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orchidyoonkook · 6 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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xhoneygirlxx · 7 months

Text

because work has been kicking my ass and i'm a wh*re for virgin Eddie, here is this small little blurb as a treat :)

virgin!eddie x reader (reader and Eddie are both in their 20s)

rated r: smut, oral receiving, swearing, mentions of sex. (18+ minors GO AWAY)

You and Eddie sit on the small couch in his trailer living room, the blue glow from the tv highlighting him in the most beautiful way. The eerie music of Halloween plays through the tinny speakers, the soundtrack of your night. Although the metal head has watched this movie more than he can count, you can’t help but notice your best friend has become instantly tense the moment Lynda’s tits appear on screen.

Eddie’s virginity wasn’t a secret in your friendship, he’d constantly asked you for advice on how to please his partner when the day finally came, but watching him squirm in his seat at glimpse of bare tits makes your heart melt. To be completely honest you had a crush on your bestie for as long as you can remember, to be fair who wouldn’t? You’ve thought about him a few times when your hands were in between your legs, fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt.

You’ve thought about offering taking Eddie’s virginity but you would hate to take something so special from him especially when it should be with someone he loves. So you kept your offer to yourself, helped him with any advice he’d asked, and remained supportive in his search of a partner.

The continuous bounce of Eddie’s knee pulls your attention from the screen, too entertained by his constant fidgeting. The scene that got him so riled up as now ended with the pretty blonde being killed but his growing length beneath his jeans continues to strain against the unforgiving material.

Even though it’s selfish and you’re dying to know what he hides beneath his pants, you give in and ask him the one thing you’ve been dying to ever since the two of you turned eighteen.

“Eds, are you good?” Leaning forward, you curl your legs underneath your bum.

His head snaps towards you, eyes bugged out and cheeks flushed. “M-me? Yeah I’m fine, m’good.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, not only trying to convince you of his words but also himself. Your face falls, mouth pulling into a straight line clearly unamused by his horrible acting.

“Okay let’s try this again but this time tell me the truth,” You say sternly, “are you good?”

Letting his head fall to the back of the couch, Eddie closed his eyes and lets out a harsh breath. “I’m just, the movie it’s,”

The nervousness in his voice won’t let him finish his sentence, every thought in his brain melting together in a bowl of mumbo jumbo.

Placing your hand on his thigh, a little higher than usual, you look up at him from under your lashes. “Her tits got you all hot and bothered, is that it?”

Snapping his eyes open down at you, he stares at you as you spoke in a completely different language. Having too much fun with his blush intensifying, you lean forward just a bit more putting your cleavage on display.

“It hurts, huh? Feels like you’re gonna burst at any moment.” Your voice is sweet like sugar, dripping with an intoxicating amount of intensity that Eddie’s never heard.

His hands that sit by his sides clench and unclench, jitters pouring through him at an alarming rate. Too dumb to speak he nods, curls bouncing with every motion.

“Awe baby, s’okay,” you coo as you hook your legs over his thighs, “if you want I can make it all better. Want me to kiss it better?”

Eddie stares at you unblinkingly, mouth parted slightly in awe. Again he nods but this time you tsk at him, shaking your head back and forth in disapproval.

“I asked you a question, honey, I need your words. Do you want me to make it better?” You pout your lips at him and he swallows harshly.

“Please make it better, hurts s’bad.” He slurs, already drunk off your touch without even really feeling it just yet.

“Such a good boy begging me so nicely.”

Slowly you move forward, capturing his soft lips into a needy kiss. Despite being a virgin Eddie does a good job kissing you, not going overboard with too much tongue or sloppy movements.

Taking a chance and wanting to take care of the growing pulse that grows in between your thighs, you begin to rock hesitantly over his hard length. The intense spark you feel jolting through your veins is verbalized with the wanton moan that rips from Eddie’s throat and vibrates into your mouth.

Picking up your momentum you can’t help but roll your eyes into the back of your head, the rough material of his jeans adding extra intensity to your pulsing bundle of nerves. Eddie isn't any better, his face is flushed red, bangs sticking to his forehead due to the amount of sweat that beads from his hairline, and his chest rattles from all the moaning sobs that leave his open mouth.

Opening your eyes you can't help but snort at Eddie's awkward hand placement. They hang in the air, itching to grasp at something but too nervous to give into the temptation.

Letting your hips come to a complete stop, you gently cup his cheeks in the palm of your hand. Hazy eyes open and look right at you, a thousand tiny specks of glitter shimmer in the big brown pools, sweeping you right into his vortex.

"Eddie honey, do you want to touch me?" Despite the dryness that lingers in your mouth, your words drip and saturate the boy beneath you in love and care.

"If that's okay with you, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. So like if you don't want me to I won't-" You stop his rambles with a quick kiss to his lips.

Pulling away with a small giggle you look at him the same way he's looking at you, disgustingly in awe.

"I want you to touch me, Eddie. Bet your hands would feel so nice on me, so big and strong."

With the thought of it makes your underwear even wetter, so wet that you know when you get off his lap there will be a big wet stain. Not wanting to wait any longer you pull your shirt over your head, revealing the pretty white lace bra that holds your breast into place.

Eddie looks something like a fish, opening and closing his mouth with unspoken words that get caught in his throat. Although it's funny watching your best friend so speechless, you can't help but adore his childlike wonder.

Gripping his wrists in your hand and pull them towards you placing them on your tits, squeezing his fingers around the doughy flesh causing you to hiss in satisfaction.

"F-fuck you're so hot." It's breathless when it comes out.

Eddie follows your lead, fondling your round breasts in the palms of his big hands. The feeling of his grip causes you to resume your motions, grinding harder on his lap trying to relieve the hammering thump in between your legs.

You remember in the fog of your lust that this wasn't about you, it was in fact about your best friend who is currently trying to hold himself together.

Again you stop your movements, pulling his hands from your lace covered chest, and move from his lap.

"W-wait, what's- what are you doing?" Eddie is more than frantic, he's completely distraught with the absence of your weight on his legs.

Pinching his cheek sweetly, you push his legs apart to create enough room for yourself. Sinking to your knees, you move into the space you've created for yourself.

"I'm doing what I said I was going to do, I'm going to kiss it better." You drag your nails up his jean covered thighs, gazing up at him with doe eyes acting as if you aren't making one of his dreams come true.

"Yeah yeah, fuck okay." Babbling like an idiot, Eddie stares at you completely shocked as if you didn't promise this to him earlier.

Raising your eyebrows at him, you wait for him to catch on to what you're waiting for. It doesn't hit him until you clear your throat and point at the handcuff belt that hold his jeans in place.

"Oh shit, right. Let me just get these off." Going as fast as his shaking hands will allow him, he goes to undo his belt and push his pants just below his balls.

His cock bounces from their confines, hitting his tee shirt covered navel with a small thud. You can't help but gawk at the sight of him. Eddie's packing more than you ever imagined, long and thick with a prominent vein running along the underside. The tip is a pretty pink shade that shines from the pearls of precum that dripples from the slit.

Your mouth fills with saliva just from the sight alone. The dark brown thatch of curls that sit at the base match the hair on his heavy balls. You weren't someone who found genitalia appetizing but man oh man was did your best friend's look good enough to eat.

The small silence that settled between you two has clearly made Eddie anxious. His chocolate brown eyes look anywhere but you and the thick chunky rings that sit on his fingers have become his clear fascination, twisting them around and around his thick digits.

Not wanting him to sit with his thoughts any longer, you lean up enough to capture his kiss bitten lips in a passionate kiss. This time it's all teeth and tongue, spit swapping between the two of you.

When you both pull away you wish you could continue kissing him, fuck the oxygen that you need all you want is Eddie.

Sitting back down on your knees, you let spit dripple down onto his stiff shaft. Clasping your hand around him you begin to jerk him off slowly, not wanting the moment to be over fast.

Eddie on the other hand is fighting for his life, lip pulled between his teeth and his eyebrows pinching together. You drink it up like a plant in the middle of a drought.

"You're s'pretty, Eds and your cock, fuck it's so pretty too." You coo, to prove your point you press kisses up and down his length.

"Mmm s-shit, your ha- your hand feels so good." Eddie's voice is completely strained, his jugular vein pocking out every once and a while.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that Eddie's nearing the end, the shaking and tensing of his thighs a clear sign. Wanting him to experience it all, you envelope the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and licking along the slit to collect the salty bead of pre that beads out of it.

Moving your mouth lower, you take him halfway into your mouth and allow your hand to jerk off whatever you can't take. The hand that braces itself on his thigh snakes its way to the heavy sack that sits just below his cock, kneading it in the palm of your hand gently.

Without needing instruction Eddie's hand finds it's way to your head, gripping your hair at the scalp and pulling out it with vigor. The pain and arousal that sparks within you causes you to moan around him, making him sob out in ecstasy.

"F-uh, oh don't stop I'm gonna- shit I'm gonna cum!"

Moving your head as fast as you can, you move to the tip to avoid chocking on the salty release. Still pumping your hand up and down on his cock you collect his warm seed in your mouth, letting it pool on your tongue.

Above you Eddie is a screaming mess, blabbing nonsense and groaning loudly. To no one's surprise Eddie cums and he cums a lot, so much so that it starts to dripple out the sides of your mouth with the string of your spit.

Once his breath returns to his lungs and his grip loosens on your hair, you let him fall out of your mouth with a lewd pop. When your eyes make eye contact with his own, you open your mouth to show him the pearly white of his release that sits on your pink tongue. Closing your mouth and swallowing it with a loud hum, you open your eyes to see Eddie completely gobsmack.

"Jesus sweetheart, you can't do shit like that unless you want me to get hard again." He says with an airy laugh.

You take his words as a threat, one that you'd be stupid not to take with the way your pussy flutters in need.

"Who said I was done, Munson?"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

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the-oblivious-writer · 8 months

Text

All Too Well

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-Shot

Summary: You develop a big crush on your friend's older sister, Sam. Will you get your fairytale ending? Or will it blow up in your face?

Warning(s): ANGST, swearing, age gap (not specified age gap but R's legal), a little fluff if you squint, insecure Sammy :(

Notes: I re-wrote this soooo many times but I FINALLY got it done. I listened to All Too Well (taylor's version ofc duh) on repeat while writing this and I'm still not sick of it. Also, quick shoutout to @celiastjamesoscar for being an inspiration with her wonderful Sam fics!

You met her younger sister, Tara, at a party and ended up spending the rest of the night talking about horror movies. After that you two became friends and she started inviting you over to her place to hangout.

When you first saw Sam you could feel your heartbeat pick up in your chest as you gave her a warm smile. You didn’t even mind the blatant glare she gave you. She didn’t say anything to you, only walking to her room. But even if she did you’re convinced you wouldn’t have heard because of how distracted by her beauty you were. Sam had you entranced from the moment you saw her and you weren’t sure if you would ever snap out of it.

The more you came over, the more you would see of Sam. One night you, Tara, Mindy and Anika decided to have a movie night followed along with a sleep over. You weren’t opposed to the idea; agreeing instantly. You would get to hang out with your friends and possibly see more of your dream woman even if it was only for a few moments.

“What are you wearing?” Tara asked with a chuckle. She had opened the front door to find you in Batman pajamas. “Um, ever seen Batman pajamas? Don’t hate on the drip Tara,” you responded while carrying the snacks you brought under your arm.

She playfully rolled her eyes as you both walked inside. “I’m not hating, it looks good.” Tara said before closing the door and sitting on the couch. You placed the snacks down on the coffee table, Mindy and Anika were cuddled up on the loveseat nearby. “Sweet pajamas, Y/N,” Mindy complimented and Anika agreed. You thanked them before sitting down on the couch.

The four of you spent the rest of the night watching a mixture of horror and action movies. Laughter, gasps and the occasionals screams could be heard from the apartment. By the time it was one, you were the only one up. You slowly got up, as to not wake up Tara who fell asleep with her legs over your lap, and walked over to the bathroom. You emptied your bladder and washed your hands before leaving. But as soon as you left the bathroom you were met with a familiar face. A familiar pretty face.

“Hi,” you said nervously. You wondered if Sam could tell you heart was racing. “Hi.” Sam responded back dryly before looking you up and down. “Nice…Batman pajamas,” she commented.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks. You looked down at what you were wearing before looking back up at Sam. “Yeah, it’s um Batman. Which you…obviously know.” You silently gulped at how stupid you acted in front of her.

She awkwardly nodded at you and looked you up and down one more time before walking away to her bedroom. As soon as you heard her bedroom door shut you scolded yourself. “Stupid!” You shouted in a whisper, hitting your forehead with the bottom of your palm.

The next time you saw Sam, you found her in a more vulnerable state. You had been avoiding her after your interaction at the sleepover. Every time you saw her the memory replayed and the embarrassment you felt only sunk deeper. You were worried you would make yourself look even more ridiculous in front of her so you made the decision to avoid talking to her unless absolutely necessary.

Lil Guy (5:53 pm) can you come over?

Simp (5:54 pm) uhhh can’t tn

Lil Guy (5:54 pm) why?? 🤨

Simp (5:55 pm) school stuff yk

Lil Guy (5:55 pm) cut the bullshit. this is obviously about Sam

Simp (5:56 pm) what does she gotta do with this?

Lil Guy (5:56 pm) you know exactly what. I unfortunately had to wake up during your

awkward ass interaction with her. heard everything

Simp (5: 57 pm) if I come over will you stop talking about this?

Lil Guy (5:57 pm) no promises. see you soooon

Simp (5:58 pm) yeah yeah cya

You sighed and got up to put on your shoes. Of course Tara would find out about your big crush on her sister eventually.

You were walking past Sam’s room but stopped in your tracks when you heard sniffling from behind the door. You lightly knocked on her door saying, “Sam?” In the gentlest voice you could muster. Shuffling could be heard behind the door before it opened.

“What?” She asked in an annoyed tone. Her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying for hours. “It’s just that I thought I heard somebody crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” It pained you to see her like this and you swore to do everything in your power to make everything better.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just–” she sighed, “go back to whatever it was you were doing.” You nodded but stopped her as she was closing the door. “But one more thing. If you need to, like, talk about anything or get some stuff off your chest I’m here, okay?”

She looked at you almost skeptically. Surely you didn’t mean that. Nobody actually means that. But when Sam looked at you, all she saw was a genuine person offering an ear. She could feel her heart warm at the thought.

That scared the shit out of her.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam thanked you. No glare. No attitude. She meant it. You gave her a warm smile, one she’s noticed she started to look forward to seeing, before telling her it was no problem and walking back to Tara’s room.

Ever since that night you and Sam have been secretly hanging out more and more. It was nothing romantic but she did enjoy talking to you. So, whenever you got the chance to sneak over to her room you would take it. There would be some nights you and Sam stayed up for hours just talking and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sam was falling while you had already fallen.

One night, you and Tara spent the night watching Gilmore Girls while you drew in your sketchbook. As you continued to draw you suddenly heard the locks starting to turn on the front door. Before you had time to react, the door opened and Sam walked through it. She was about to say ‘Hi’ to Tara before she saw you and instead let out an, “Oh.” She furrowed her eyebrows before looking you up and down. Once again, your heart was racing and you could feel butterflies in your stomach. Just looking at her always had you weak in the knees.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. Sam still chose to act slightly cold toward you around people as not to draw suspicion but she assured you it was just for show. The fact that she wanted to assure you about that, made you give her a lovestruck smile while she told you.

Tara rolled her eyes at her sister’s attitude and answered for you. “I invited her here, we’ve just been watching TV. Wanna join?” She asked and Sam looked over to the television before nodding.

You were sandwiched between the two sisters; your sketchbook long forgotten and you blushing madly from the amount of contact you were holding with Sam. Fifteen minutes go by and Tara reaches over to the bowl for some popcorn, only to find it empty. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” she tells you and Sam before grabbing the bowl and going to the kitchen.

You and Sam were now left alone, sitting on the couch. Her left hand was so close to your right that you would barely have to move in order to hold it. As if Sam felt your hesitancy, she brushed her pink against yours without looking at you. It sent a jolt of electricity through the both of you. Your eyes moved down to your pinkies before you turned them back to the television.

In a moment of confidence, you decide to lock your pinky with hers. You expected her to pull away, shove you off, or even tell you to fuck off but she did neither of those things. Unexpectedly, she kept it there. That was until Tara came back. When the younger Carpenter came back you both pulled away; both sparing a glance while the other wasn’t looking.

Later that night, you were getting ready to leave until suddenly you were pulled into Sam’s room. When Sam fully pulled you into her room, she shut the door and time stopped around you as you felt her soft lips on yours.

By the time you two pulled away, your hands were gently gripping her hips and she had a hand softly holding onto the back of your neck while you were pinned to the door. “What took you so long?” You finally asked with a lovestruck smile. Sam couldn’t help but reciprocate that smile.

—

Your relationship with Sam was often complicated. Her mixed singles were not always easy to identify but you pushed through for her.

You and Sam have been dating for seven months now. It was the same routine every time; Tara would invite you over, you would hang out with her for a bit until Sam chose she wanted you around and signaled for you to follow her when nobody else was looking.

For the first few months the sneaking around was fun and all but recently you have found yourself wanting more. But every time these thoughts crossed your mind you chose to shove them down. You didn’t want to ruin what you had with Sam. You were with her and that’s all that mattered.

When Sam invited you over for Christmas you did not hesitate to agree. You felt like your relationship was growing, and this would be one step closer until you could be more than just her little secret.

You walked through the door with Sam, the air was cold but something about it felt like home somehow. You placed your scarf down on the hanger, along with your coat and hat. Tara and the others came to greet you and Sam before the questions ensued.

“I didn’t realize you two were coming together,” Tara remarked. You and Sam gave each other discreet glances at each other before Sam opened her mouth to reply.

“Her car isn’t working right, so I offered her a ride.” They all nodded to this before moving on. It was not long before board games were being played and hot coco was being sipped. The setting was warm and comforting, and when you felt Sam’s hand grab a hold of yours under the table it only got warmer.

Tara rushed back from one of the rooms with a scrapbook in her hand as she wore a giddy smile. “Guess what I got,” she said while holding it up. Sam mentally groaned as you shot up and made your way to Tara. “Is that–”

“Yup.”

“Well what are we doing just standing here? Let’s go see what little Sammy looked like.” You and Tara ran to her room. Sam got up and rushed over to you both; not wanting her girlfriend seeing any of her awkward phases.

By the time she got there, it was too late. Tara was already showing you pictures of younger Sam, braces and all. Sam let out a sigh as she saw you look down at the pictures. You look up at her with an opened mouth smile. “Sammy! Well aren’t you just adorable,” you tell your blushing girlfriend.

She walked over and sat down beside you. “You just had to pick when I had braces, Tar?” She asked her sister. Tara gave her a smirk before flipping through the pages.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got more,” Tara responded and flipped to a page that had pictures of when Sam was just a toddler. You let out another dramatic gasp when you see them.

“Absolutely adorable!” You exclaimed. Sam bit back a smirk as she rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I think that’s enough for tonight. We’re about to put on Die Hard; you coming?” She asked you and the younger Carpenter.

“Yeah just a second,” Tara told her before Sam left the room. “Okay. Seriously, when were you gonna tell me about you and my sister?” She suddenly asked, catching you off guard.

Your eyes widened at the accusation. “What– what do you mean?” You stammered. Tara sighed, closing the scrapbook and placing it on her nightstand. “It’s obvious something’s going on. Not to mention you disappearing whenever we hang out and Sam wearing a brand new hickey everytime you re-emerge. Seriously, you guys do a shit job at hiding it.”

You sighed and contemplated your next words. “You can’t tell anyone though, okay?” Tara looked at you and could tell you were being serious. She holds up her pinky to you before responding, “I won’t tell a soul.” You give her a small smile before hooking your pinky with hers.

By the time you and her leave, the movie’s already playing and you plop down beside Chad, and Tara joining you on your right side. You felt your eyelids growing heavy and eventually fell asleep on Chad’s shoulder, which he didn’t mind. By the time you woke up, a fresh set of snacks were put out and a new movie was on in the background as everyone spoke.

“Oh good, Y/N you’re up just in time for truth or dare,” you heard Mindy say. “What is this, fifth grade?” You joked before joining them on the ground. Tara sent you a smirk when she saw you immediately go to Sam’s side.

“Okay, we were just about to ask Sam if she’s still with cute boy,” Quinn said and felt yourself grow a little small.

“Cute boy?” You echoed and Quinn nodded before continuing her interrogation.

“So, how about it Sam?” Sam felt your eyes on her; only sparing you a single glance before answering.

“No, we broke up awhile ago actually,” she answered and everybody else moved on except for you. As they continued to play truth or dare you silently thought to yourself. Who was ‘cute boy?’ And why did it seem their relationship was far more public than their own.

It wasn’t until you heard your name get called when you snapped out of your spiral. “Y/N, truth or dare?” You heard Chad ask you. You thought for a moment before answering him. “Truth.”

“Well, I gotta know Y/N…are you and Sam dating?” The room went silent, at least for you it did. You knew Tara would never give your secret out like that. Especially when you literally pinky swore on it. You just did not realize the group would catch on so quickly.

“Uh–” before you could think of a lie or some lame excuse, you were quickly cut off by Sam. “No no, we’re not dating. I mean come on guys. Could you imagine us together? That’s ridiculous,” she said defensively as you felt your heart ache.

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” you muttered. “Wait– Y/N I didn’t mean–” Sam started but this time you were the one who cut her off. “I know what you meant.”

You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom, locking yourself inside. You felt like a complete idiot as you silently cried. The voices in your head continued to say the same things, You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson.

You were growing tired of putting in ninety nine percent of the effort in your relationships. It hadn’t been the first time you were in this position. Most of your past relationships were you being the only one who cared enough to put in the effort.

As these memories flooded back to you, you felt naïve for letting it happen again. You scolded yourself for it. To make matters worse, you had just embarrassed yourself in front of everybody and probably ruined everything you had with Sam.

You suddenly heard three soft knocks on the door. “Who is it?” You sniffled. When you heard it was Sam you instantly debated whether or not you should open the door. Sam patiently waited on the other side until you opened the door.

Her heart ached for you as she saw your tear stained face. She had done this to you. She had caused you pain. “Hey,” Sam said in a small voice. “Hey,” you echoed back with a cracking voice.

“Can we talk?” She asked you. All you did was nod before she led you to her bedroom. She deeply inhaled as she tried to muster up what she was about to say.

“Listen, Y/N I’m sorry I never told you about Danny.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her before responding.

“Sam, it’s not about that. Of course you’re going to have past relationships. I just don’t understand why I have to be a secret while he obviously got to be pretty public. I just– I just don’t know what I did wrong,” You told her honestly.

“What? No, you did nothing wrong okay? It’s just…easier this way,” Sam said and you felt yourself growing more irritated by her vagueness.

“How? How is this easier? Cause’ it feels a hell of a lot harder to me. Especially when my own girlfriend seems so disgusted by the thought of dating me.”

You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Sam kneeled in front of you and took your hands in hers. “I wasn’t disgusted. It was all an act. You know that mi amor.” Her right hand moved up to cup your cheek, her thumb wiping away a tear.

“Do I?” You challenged. Sam looked up at you with her big brown eyes before answering. “You’re my world. Nothing could ever change that,” she reassured you.

You took a moment to think to yourself. You felt Sam’s thumb brush against your bottom lip, causing you to look down at her.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she told you. You sighed in defeat; you knew Sam had gotten away with something once again. You loved Sam deeply but there were times you doubted she felt the same. The thought brought you pain, both physically and emotionally. But for now you would just lay in her arms and try to forget about the world around you and your problem along with it.

Christmas and New years came and went faster than you thought it would. You had enjoyed your time at the Carpenter–Bailey residence despite what had gone down your first night, but you and Sam were good now. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Sam and you hit the road at around nine in the morning. You lived half an hour away from them so the ride wouldn’t be long but it wouldn’t be short either. Cruel Summer was playing while Sam drove. Luckily you had a girlfriend who didn’t mind you picking the songs.

“I love the ‘Fuck The Patriachry’ keychain, Tara got you,” you said as you examined said keychain. Sam chuckled a little before looking at you.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing compared to that skirt she got you,” she said with a smirk while eyeing you. You couldn’t help but blush at your girlfriend’s attempt at flirting with you.

You looked ahead to see the light turning red. “Red, Sam–”

“Shit!” Sam slammed her foot on the break before looking back at you. “Maybe you should pay more attention to the road instead of eye fu–”

Sam cut you off, “Yeah yeah, whatever.” She playfully rolled her eyes before moving the car again once the light turned green.

It did not take long before you went back to your typical routine with Sam; you would come over, hang out with your friends for a bit before Sam pulled you into her room when nobody was looking. You felt stupid for letting the incident at Christmas almost ruin your relationship with Sam.

Any time now, she’s gonna say it’s love. You had not exactly said the four special words to Sam just yet; you were afraid of scaring her off. But there were little things that Sam did that showed she felt the same toward you even if she was not the best at displaying her feelings.

You truly believed she loved you back and tonight would be the night you told her you loved her. If only you knew what would transpire.

Sam held you close to her chest as her chin rested on top of your head. “Sam..” You softly said as you played with the hem of her shirt. She hummed before you continued. “I…I wanna tell you something.” Sam started sitting up while you sat up with her. You lifted yourself up by your arms and looked at her.

You now had her full attention and you were not going to waste it. “I love you, Sammy.” Sam’s breath immediately caught in her throat. “You…what?” She asked, although she heard you just fine.

“I love you,” you repeated, growing nervous.

“Oh..” Was all she said before getting up. You watched her movements as she walked over to gather her things.

“Oh?” You repeated nervously. “Yeah um, hey I’ve been thinking,” she started as you sat there on your bed. “This isn’t really working. I think we should stop–” she gestured to you and her, “–this.”

All you could do was sit there as you tried to process the woman you loved deeply, shattering your heart as if it were glass. “Sam, what the hell are you talking about?” Your voice was soft yet demanding. You wanted answers.

“We can’t see each other anymore, Y/N.” Sam’s voice left no room for bargaining. When she saw you lightly flinch at her tone she had to resist reaching out to comfort you.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I just think it’s better for both of us.” Bullshit, you thought.

“Tell me a reason. You at least owe me that.” You ignored the tear that fell from your eye as you spoke.

“You deserve more than me…”

Sam spent a lot of her days thinking about you. From the moment you walked into the apartment she had her eye on you. Kissing you for the first time was both her best and worst decision she had ever made. None of this was your fault. She knew what she was getting herself into that night she chose to press her lips onto yours. Risks would ensue and she was aware of that.

Sam felt like a fool for thinking she could have something to herself; something that has not touched the darkness from her past. But that’s just it; you were too good for her. She didn’t feel like she deserved you in any way shape or form. You were too good for her and this world.

That’s why breaking up with you hurts even more. Sam knew in the process of protecting you, she would have to break your heart.

“Sam, please don’t do this.” You were more than familiar with the older woman’s habit to overthink and get lost in her head.

“Please, just let yourself be happy for once,” you practically pleaded as you got up.

Sam averted her stare and swallowed a lump in her throat as she lightly shook her head. “You know I can’t…”

Samantha Carpenter would never allow herself to be happy. The realization of this set in as you look at her. “That’s disappointing,” you choked out.

“So, what was the point of all this?” The question had been on the tip of your tongue. Sam looks over to you with furrowed eyebrows before you elaborate. “Us. Was I just a hookup to you?” Sam hated that she made you question what you meant to her.

“Y/N…you will always be more than just a hookup. But we both knew how this was going to end,” Sam answered. If you bit your cheek any harder you could draw blood.

“No, actually. I didn’t. But I guess–” you let out a dry chuckle, “–you did Samantha. From the start, right? That, one of these nights you were gonna call me up again just to break me like a promise? Fuck I’m so stupid,” you mumbled the last part.

“Y/N that’s not what I meant–” She reached over to you but you pulled back as if she had burned you; in a way she did. She had just confessed to leading you on during your entire relationship with her. Sam never called it what it was.

“I know what you meant…” Memories of the incident at Christmas flicker in your mind when you say this.

“I’m sorry,” Sam mutters as she reaches for the door knob but not before giving you one last glance.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

“Goodbye Sam.”

Later that night, Sam was in her room holding your scarf closely as she cried more than she had ever cried before.

The memories of you flooded her mind, the moments you both shared before she lost the one real thing she’s ever known.

As soon as she left you broke down; letting everything you were holding in, out. Maybe you both got lost in translation, maybe you asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece til’ she tore it all up. You would forever remember this day all too well.

-----------

A/N: And did the twin flame bruise paint you blue? Just between us did the love affair maim you too?

#sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi

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griseldagimpel · 6 months

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How to Punish Democrats in the United States for Being Pro-Genocide

I've seen a lot of posts about abandoning the Democratic party. (Because, really, is Be Anti-Genocide really that much of a fucking ask??)

And I've seen a lot of posts about how not voting Democrat means the Republicans will win, which means we'll end up with politicians that are both pro-genocide and a bunch of other awful shit. (Yep. This is true.)

But I haven't seen a lot of posts going around about other things people could do, especially with primaries literally being next year in which the entire House of Representatives and a third of the Senate are up for re-election.

For those not familiar with primaries, they are elections that take place before the general election and are the mechanism for how the general election candidate for a political party is selected. So a primary won't be Democrat vs Republican, it'll be Democrat vs Democrat or Republican vs Republican.

To start, yes, a lot of the below require a lot of time and effort. Yeah, the reality is is that the world's a shitty place because people who want to change it are struggling to exist under late stage capitalism. If there's something on this list you can't do, that's fine. What can you do?

This post is mostly not going to focus on Biden. He's not the sum total of the Democratic party, and if more of the party was against him, he'd have a harder time getting traction. That said, if you do have a presidential primary with him on the ballot, you should absolutely vote against him, just on principle.

Depending on the state, you may need to be a registered member of the Democratic Party to vote in the Democratic Party Primary. And, look, registering as a Democrat doesn't mean you have a legal obligation to vote for a Democratic candidate in the general election. There's no loyalty pledge you have to sign that says you agree with every single position the Democratic Party holds. There's not a membership fee. Literally, all it does is mean that your little voting card says you're a Democrat, which establishes that you want to have a say in how the Democratic Party is run. That's it.

Alright, first step. Who are your two Senators and one House Representative? Here's a link to find that information: https://www.usa.gov/elected-officials

Second step: Are your elected officials Democrats? (Or Independents that caucus with the Democrats?) And are they pro-Genocide?

If they're a Republican, than your goal is to elect an anti-Genocide Democrat. (Or anti-Genocide Independent who'll caucus with the Democrats. Same difference. I'm just going to use "Democrat" from here on out, and you can substitute in "Independent" if it applies.) You still care about primaries, though. It's just that in the General election, the Republican candidate will be incumbent rather than the challenger.

If they're a anti-Genocide Democrat, send them a letter telling them you appreciate their position, and most of the rest of this post doesn't apply to you.

If they're a pro-Genocide Democrat, is there someone running against them in the primary? https://ballotpedia.org/ is a great resource here.

If they've got a primary challenger, is their primary challenger anti-Genocide? If they are, write them and tell them you appreciate their position. Then write to the incumbent and tell them that them being pro-Genocide is why you aren't voting for them in the primary. If the primary challenger is pro-Genocide or doesn't have a stated position, write to them and try to get them to adopt an anti-Genocide position. Pay attention to town hall events, and don't hesitate to contact the campaign. Primaries don't get a lot of attention, so if you can get a primary challenger to switch positions, there's not a big risk of blow back for them doing so. (In a general election, switching positions can get a candidate labeled a flip-flop, so keep that in mind.)

If there's not a primary challenger or if you need a better primary challenger, who in your community can run as one? Check with your local leftist organizations. Check deadlines and requirements to get a candidate on the ballot. It usually requires getting a certain number of signatures on a petition from people in your area.

Now that you've got an anti-Genocide primary challenger, consider volunteering for their campaign. And, something to keep in mind, turn out for primaries tends to be low, and the smaller the population size of the district, the lower that number will be. It may only take a few hundred votes to swing a primary election, if you've got a smaller district.

While all this is going on, you will no doubt be flooded with messages from Democratic candidates begging for money. For each, check their position. If they're pro-Genocide, don't give them money and then call, email, or write them telling them that their pro-Genocide position is why they aren't getting money. If they're anti-Genocide, and you can afford it, give them a bit of money. Yeah, in the bigger elections, there's ridiculous amounts of money in play, but a primary challenger might not necessarily be rolling in it.

Finally, vote in the primaries.

#politics #elections #primary elections #long post #israel palestine conflict #vote these fuckers out

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 3 months

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I need a oral F! Reader receiving hanma mini smut so bad😭❤

Nonnyyyy I just discovered my obsession for this asshole (but in the best way???). I hope you like this. Thanks for dropping by & come back anytime!

C/W ::: Hanma x F.reader, M->F oral, M->masturbating, language and overuse of italics, google translate because I'm one of those people (if I botched it in ANY way, please tell me and I'll fix it) "Watashi no hana" = my blossom, "hana" = blossom.

WC ::: less than 600

The slurping sounds Hanma was making between your legs was overly dramatic. Overly dramatic and so deliciously sinful. He wasn't just going down on you. Oh, no. No no no. He was savoring you. He was going above and beyond, devouring every inch of your cunt like if he stopped, you would disappear from his life forever.

He had you on your belly. Face down. Ass straight up in the air. His face planted firmly between your sticky thighs. You made the mistake (kinda?!) of looking back at him and the look in his eyes was nothing short of completely glazed over. He was totally pussy drunk. You had to giggle at how he had the fucked out face. His honey-colored orbs practically crossed in his head.

"Wh- fffuckkk, watashi no hana, you taste ... like ... like fuckin' heaven. He forgot all about you giggling at him and dove back into your slit. Hanma kissed your clit, tending to it so gently you thought you were going to scream.

"God, Hanma." You gasped when he sucked on your clit. "That feels so good."

He hummed against you, the vibrations of his voice only adding to your pleasure. "You expected less from me? Y'know I'm good at eatin' your pussy, hana. Why would I ever deny you the pleasure? Unless you're being a brat. Then you're the one who's gonna choke on my dick, not the other way around. Not - no, you don't have a dick. Never mind. Shut up."

You laughed at him, but he just growled and went back to languidly stroking his tongue on your slit and your clit. "No more talking. Just feel." Hanma pulled back from you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He flipped you over so you were on your back.

At some point, he'd pulled his cock out. He stroked it slowly, watching you get comfortable on the bed.

"Don't you want to fuck me?" You asked, pouting.

"Mm. Yes. But first, I want you to cum on my face." Hanma laid down a ways from you, pushing your legs apart. He put his mouth on you again, one arm hooked around your thigh to keep you in place. His other hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off. You were so turned on by the sight of him laying there, face buried in your cunt. He was so desperate for your pleasure that he was getting off on it.

Your orgasm came on quickly. You grabbed a fistful of his black and blond hair, tugging as you felt the waves of pleasure crash over you.

He moaned into your twitching pussy, cumming all over his hand the same time you soaked his face.

"Oh Han, that's ok. It's ok. We can wait a bit." You waved for him to come up and lay with you.

Hanma wiped his face off with his shirt and crawled up the bed, collapsing on top of you. "Sorry?" He said, kissing your neck.

"It's fine. I don't mind waiting." You smiled.

"Wait for what, hana?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Um, re-refractory ... period?" Saying that, you hoped you didn't embarrass him.

"Refractory period? What the actual fuck is that?" He said, grabbing your arms, pinning them above your head and grinning down at you.

You giggled. "Well, you know, the time it takes to, you know ... get it up again."

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard anyone say." You looked down, and it appeared to be the dumbest shit you've ever said

Taglist ::: @viburnt @arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @darkstarlight82

#hanma shuji #hanma x reader #shuji hanma #shuji hanma x reader #tokyo revengers hanma #tokyo rev smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma smut #shuji hanma smut #asked and answered #thank you nonnie #tokrev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers smut

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ssentimentals · 2 years

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dating wonwoo feels like...

being wrapped in your favorite blanket on a chilly summer night. it's a bit windy on the rooftop and you cuddle close to him for the warmth; the sky is so clear and it seems like you can touch the stars if you just reach out - all of it fills your chest with the feeling of rightness. wonwoo makes you feel like you’re in the right place at the right time, exactly where you’re supposed to be - with him.

('do you believe in the theory of multiverse?' you ask in a whisper, staring up at the sky. 'just think of it! there are many, many dimensions, whole universes besides ours. we might not even be together in some of them, might not even know each other!'

wonwoo smiles, turning to look at you. he tucks your hair behind your ear and does it so gently, caressing the skin behind your ear in the process and that makes brightest blush burn your cheeks. 'i think it doesn't exist,' he answers back in a whisper and when you look at him questioningly, he elaborates: 'i mean, universe in which we are not together. it doesn't exist.')

wonwoo looks. he looks and looks and looks and tucks away every single piece of information about you into his heart to the point that he knows what you want better than you do. he is handing you your glasses before you start looking for them, your favorite drink is in his hand before you open your mouth to ask for it, he quietly excuses you both from the party before you turn to him to say that you're tired - he knows you, all of you. you are his favorite book, the good kind, the one that he comes back to re-read again and again, finding new meanings in the same old pages.

(you yawn and open your eyes, immediately finding his already looking back at you. it used to unnerve you a little - this solid focus that wonwoo has on you, the way his eyes never stray away from you - but now you're used to it, you ravel in this undivided attention. 'i think i'm getting sleepy,' you mutter, stretching your legs out and laying on top of him again. 'but i don't wanna move until we finish this chapter.'

wonwoo shakes his head, amused smile playing on his lips as he smoothes down your t-shirt that ranked up high on your back. 'we read this book three times, we both know how this chapter ends. let's move to the bed?'

'no, i's comfy here,' you whine petulantly and his heart squeezes in his chest with a dangerous emotion. you look up and his breath hitches, although not a muscle on his face moved. 'let's stay here, please? you can continue reading. and if i fall asleep you'll wake me up, yeah?'

he nods, knowing very well that you're about to fall asleep in next five minutes and knowing that he won't move, won't wake you up - he'll stay in this position even if it's a bit uncomfortable for him, just so he could savor you like this, unguarded and soft, all for him to treasure.)

dating wonwoo is knowing that it's okay not be okay. emotions can be overwhelming at times and he's here to give you all you need - a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear to rant to, a silent and comforting presence to fall to. he is always respectful of your wishes and boundaries and if it's space that you need then he'll give you one. it's never embarrassing to show your true self because he accepts it with gratefulness.

('how can i help you?' he asks quietly, voice strained. you are sitting at the opposite end of the couch and he hates this distance between you two, but he won't breach it unless you let him. there are tears in your eyes and his fingers itch with a desire to wipe them off and kiss your eyelids-

'just hold me, please.' you whisper and in the next second you're wrapped in his arms, pulled closer to his solid frame that engulfs you in safety and protection.

'you can cry, it's okay to cry,' he says, stroking your back. he places small kiss on top of your head and bites back his own tears. 'it will be alright.')

wonwoo is all about actions and not words. he helps you clean the house, sits next to you on purpose when you're feeling nervous, picks you up at any time and insists on you never walking alone when it's dark, he leaves small notes on the books at the places he knows you'll love. wonwoo is a quiet drive home with a soft tune playing in the background and your fingers interlaced, he is a forehead kiss that leaves you tingling with warmth, he is a companionable silence that never feels awkward.

dating wonwoo is like coming back home, where your favorite dish is waiting for you on the table and a set of clean clothes is set up in the bathroom just for you. it's full of coziness, familiarity and this oh so needed sense of belongingness.

('is it too wishful to think that you belong with me?' he asks and gasps, realizing he said it out loud. this thought's been bothering him for a while now and he usually lets his guard down with you, doesn't filter his thoughts but this? the intensity of what he feels for you scares him and you were not meant to learn this. 'i-'

you shush him by placing your finger against his lips. wonwoo frowns, seeing how your eyes well up with tears. he's ready to apologize but then you kiss him and any other thoughts leave his mind. you pull back, smiling. next words that leave your mouth make his head spin and heart jump out of his chest: 'i think i belong with you too.')

a/n: check out vernon part here and let me know what you think of this one <3

#wonwoo fluff #seventeen reaction #wonwoo x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen #svt #seventeen wonu #wonwoo imagine

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 months

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I can see the inconsistency of Felix character is because he actually a character for there "Fans demand" :

Sooo you prefer 2D-Catnoir/Felix rather than our angel Adrien ? Here Felix ! He official debut in "Felix" ! He is Adrien cousin and a big jerk ! Hate him just like how I hate him too !

Wh- What ? You like him ? Fuck ! So you feel he is more competent that our pure evulz bitch teenagers ? Fine ! Here's Felix who manage to trick Gabriel in "Gabriel Agreste" ! Now He is as dangerous as Gabe

Oh Fuck ! You still like him and feel he is more "relevant" than our angel Adrien and my sweetie Marinette ? Here's I present YOU Felix join Miracuclass as "Dog Hero" and then sell all the Miraclouses to Gabe ! He is Evil ! EVil ! EVIIIIL !

What ? You asking me why he want Peacock Miraculous so much ?! Here I present you Felix as Argos ! He wiped humanity out-of-spite and try to create the Utopia for his own freedom ! He is misanthrope !

What A second ? Why... You... STILL.... EXPECTED... CHLOE... TO BE REDEEMED.... why she already... has many traits... to be put in "Complete Monster" territory ? Why YOU keep want her to be redeem like Zuzu and Pacifica just because having shitty parents ? FINE ! Here's Felix to be our Zuzu ! He is tragic little peacock... has tragic backstory.... shitty dad... and a handsome teenager.... pretty much like Zuzu right ? Now shut up and Go simp on him and Feligami already !

Proper redemption arc ? Who hell need redemption arc as long as he is "tragic and handsome" ? Don't worry... we will make Kagami as "senti" out-of-nowhere aside she wear different ring as excuse and a "horny possessive girl" who still can't move on from Adrien and make her Simp felix because he smell and looks like Adrien RIIIIIIIIIIIGHHT LOL

Honestly, it is pretty hilarious that Felix was meant to be seen as the actual character who went through a serious redemption arc compared to Chloe, when the writers pretty much speedran through every major part of it in time for the finale.

Like, say what you will about Chloe and whether or not you think she deserved to be redeemed, but at least the arc leading to her betrayal was spread across three seasons. Felix's redemption arc only lasted three episodes.

Because of the poor pacing, this is the character journey Felix goes through during the latter half of Season 5.

Emotion: "I'm going to wipe out all of humanity and create a better world! Wait, you think I'm insane for erasing your friends and family from existance while essentially committing mass genocide? WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

Pretension: "Even though I've spent almost no time with you, I think I'm falling in love with you because you may be a Sentimonster person with strict parents like me. Of course, I don't love you enough to break my new moral code against using Sentimonsters or even answering for my betrayal of Ladybug."

Representation: "I'm finally going to do something to help Ladybug because her arch-enemy is getting in the way with my week-old relationship, and that moral code against Sentimonsters? I don't want to use Sentimonsters to fight, but using Sentimonsters to put on a play to convey information I could easily tell Ladybug myself, since my new girlfriend conviently learned her identity over ten episodes ago? Perfectly okay. And since I have a personal stake by wanting to protect both my cousin and girlfriend, surely, this means I'll get to play a big part in the season finale instead of just letting Ladybug do all the work, right?"

Conformation and Re-Creation:

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #felix graham de vanily #argos #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b

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nonbinaryspy · 7 months

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Meta: Elincia's Trolley Problems

Elincia's arc comes into sharpest relief when you consider both PoR and RD together. From living a sheltered life as a secret princess, to watching her parents get killed as her country is invaded, to eventually rising to the challenge of her unexpected role as queen, she has to deal with important decisions at every turn. Every action she takes is out of love for Crimea's people and a desire to secure them safe and happy lives. But what happens when she has to choose between the life of a loved one and the future of the overall populace? Both PoR and RD test this with narrative beats that form a perfect mirror, ultimately reflecting Elincia's development.

Path of Radiance

Throughout PoR, Elincia has been separated from her usual support network, particularly her retainers. After returning to Crimea, she finally finds them—however, in chapter 24, before she is able to reunite with Geoffrey, he is left behind to fend off Daein troupes so that Elincia can escape. Elincia is naturally horrified.

Bastian: Geoffrey's acting as a decoy. You must continue on this road to the southwest. Lucia: So the enemy's found us, eh? Lucia: Nothing to do about it but change course. I'll lead you to another hiding place. Elincia: Wh-what are you saying, Lucia? We must help Geoffrey! Bastian? Lucia: Luck was not with us, Princess. We have no choice. We'll have to abandon our companions in Castle Delbray. Elincia: No!! We will not!! Geoffrey and the others have survived so much already... I will not abandon them! Lucia: Princess, please understand. If we could do so without danger to you, we would gladly risk our lives to go back. Elincia: We cannot do this! Please, Lucia! We must go to the castle! ...Bastian! You must not do this thing! Bastian: Geoffrey is a knight. In the name of our friend's honor, Princess, you must escape. Elincia: No... No! They've survived this long! They're alive! NO!!!

When Ike gives her the chance to instead save Geoffrey, she affirms that this is what she wants.

Elincia: Yes. I don't want... I don't want anyone else to be sacrificed.

Lucia and Bastian respect her wishes and agree to help Geoffrey, at which point she is able to get her feelings across.

Elincia: Because the two of you think to put me above all else, you say you will sacrifice your lives for me. Yet... Even if I'm able to borrow of Ike's strength and win back Crimea... If the cost of that victory is the lives of the two of you, I shall never smile again. And joy? Never again would that emotion fill my heart...

Elincia is a leader, but she's also a person—one who never asked for this role. Until recently, she has not had to make decisions that would affect the future of a whole country, as opposed to only living within her personal sphere. In fact, the main political decision made re: her life—the decision to keep her birth secret—was made for her. She has already lost her parents and, as far as she knows, her beloved uncle.

Since then, her choices have all been for the sake of Crimea. In reality, she has had little choice in how to go about that goal, considering she has been fleeing for her life while at the whims of Begnion politics. Being able to return to Crimea and reunite with her retainers is the first time she has been running toward, rather than away, from something, and still part of that goal is being held from her reach. Nothing will stop her from working hard for Crimea, but individual losses will still give her permanent grief. So here, she finally takes a stand against the choices other people try to make for her, and insists on protecting her loved ones and regaining some of what she lost.

What happens next depends on the player, but considering her retainers are alive in RD, the duology's canon here is that they all survive this fight. Due to Elincia getting her feelings across, her loved ones are saved, and the campaign continues.

After this experience, the cost of individual lives in war is hammered home, and Elincia decides it's not enough to order others to keep her retainers safe. Regaining her inherited pegasus and sword, she takes to the field despite the mixed feelings of her retainers.

Elincia: Even though I'm dressed like this, I have no experience, and do not expect to fight as well as the rest of you. But…this constant waiting behind and doing nothing…it sets my heart beating with such unease I fear it may burst. Even if I cannot fight, I could use a staff to heal the wounded. If I could save just one soldier, it would mean so much to me.

This quote shows her resolve and compassion, but it also shows that she still lacks experience and confidence, especially when it comes to conflict. Despite being trained in swordplay, she instead emphasizes her ability to heal, and sets a fairly low bar for what her contribution will mean. Although, given that this plot demonstrates the importance of saving an individual life, maybe I shouldn't call it a low bar. Either way, at this point, there is still plenty of room for her to grow and change, and RD will challenge her to due so.

Radiant Dawn

Part two of Radiant Dawn focuses on Ludveck attempting to usurp Elincia's throne by stirring up reactionary attitudes toward her policies, specifically with regards to her alliance with Gallia, to threaten civil war and pressure her into giving up her throne. Because she fears the conflict that could come out of taking direct action against a noble, and because his followers are also citizens of Crimea for whom she feels responsible, she approaches the situation carefully. Ludveck takes advantage of this hesitance to eventually kidnap Lucia.

Once again, one of the Delbray siblings is in peril, and this time, as Crimea's queen, Elincia does not need to convince anyone to save her. Instead, she takes to the field herself. As with PoR, she had not immediately done so—in this case, because of the delicacy the situation called for. But with Lucia's life at risk and Ludveck's forces at Elincia's door, she decides the time for delicacy is past.

Elincia: “Lucia… Lucia, I’m sorry. Somehow, I promise you… I will save you!” ... Elincia: “…Very well. I must prepare as well. I had hoped this day would never come… Amiti, the treasured blade of House Crimea, will awaken from its long slumber.”

Unlike in PoR, rather than focusing on her healing ability, she mentions Amiti. She no longer needs to make disclaimers or doubt the importance of her role commanding the field. The wording of "I had hoped this day would never come" and "awaken from its long slumber" emphasize that she has already been through the horrors of war once, and never wanted to again. She despises violence, but she is resigned to doing what she must.

Despite holding out against Ludveck's forces and throwing him in the dungeon, she is not able to do anything about his trump card. With Lucia as hostage, he tries to use her life as a bargaining chip for his release, as well as the country. After the incident in PoR, where her retainers saw their own lives as disposable, she convinced them to realize how valuable they were to her. So with the Delbray siblings' situations reversed, Geoffrey now asks Elincia to save Lucia.

Geoffrey: “…Your Majesty, you can’t… You have to let me do something about this.” Elincia: “…” Geoffrey: “Lucia would willingly die fighting for her country, I know… But you have to help her, Elincia. If you were in her position, she would surely do the same. Please, just give the word.”

Again, Elincia is at the point where she is taking action herself instead of entreating others. Rather than order him to do anything, Elincia visits Ludveck in what is one of the most defining scenes of her arc. The non-extended version is below as I think it gets the point across quite well, but there are more dialogue beats in the extended version.

Ludveck: “Queen Elincia, you’re so naive. Cold and callous decisions are sometimes required of a nation’s ruler. …I was testing you. We all wanted to know if our queen would have the power to stop a civil war.” Ludveck: “But, no, you were too hesitant and too concerned about harming the people… Now look what has happened. The rule of Crimea cannot be kept in your hands! Please, Your Majesty! You must abdicate and cede the crown to me!” Ludveck: “And considering Lady Lucia’s life is on the line, you haven’t much choice. Now, let’s have you free me from this prison cell, and then we can discuss any further details…” Elincia: “I don’t think so.” Ludveck: “What?! Are you truly willing to sacrifice Lady Lucia?!” Elincia: “…Lord Ludveck, all your dissatisfaction and misgivings about me are well founded. However, do you realize how many lives you’ve simply thrown away?! Strength without compassion does not a ruler make. You care nothing for the people, sir. You cloak your desire to rule with pretty speeches, but it is petty avarice nonetheless!” Ludveck: “…So this is how it shall be? Very well… But Lady Lucia cannot be spared without my order.” Elincia: “Allowing you to plant the seeds of rebellion and play havoc with the lives of my people is a failure for which I must answer. But I will see Crimea through this trial. I will give my people the future they deserve, no matter the cost.”

Ludveck patronizes Elincia for her compassion while pretending he has the citizens' best interests at heart, but Elincia doesn't bow to his demands. She maintains her compassion along with her resolve. However, no matter how caring someone is, the fact of the matter is that decisions that help even a great deal of people still come with consequences. Elincia realizes this, and is prepared to make that sacrifice while taking responsibility—even though, as she said in PoR, she "shall never smile again."

In the beginning of PoR, Elincia lost almost everything in one fell swoop. When she was finally reunited with her retainers, the thought of sacrificing even one of them was unbearable, even if it could potentially have derailed her goal to retake her country from an invading tyrant. Now, though, she is in a position of greater power, and she is fully aware of the responsibility that comes with it. Compared to PoR, where she was so often at the mercy of others, the only thing tying her hands now is the threat to Lucia. Of course, Lucia is immensely important to her, but after spending three years working to rebuild Crimea, nothing can convince her to let it again fall to ruin under another power-hungry leader.

Thankfully, Lucia's life and Elincia's smiles are saved, thanks to Bastian secretly calling in the Greil Mercenaries. Despite her resolve, Elincia's conflicting priorities are still apparent, as in the extended version (translation on Serenes Forest provided below) she expresses wonder at her decision. As for her retainers, though their feelings on how she should handle such situations have shifted over time, they don't begrudge her decision.

Elincia: “…When Lucia was captured… It was as if I lost my other half. Even now, seeing her by my side, I feel so strange… Wondering how, at that time, I could make the decision to abandon her…” Lucia: “Lady Elincia…” Elincia: “Still… If the same scenario occurred… I believe I would make the same decision. Lucia’s life is important, but it’s not on the same scale as protecting the country. As the Queen of Crimea, I must accomplish my duty to the country foremost.” Lucia: “Of course. Seeing Lady Elincia being able to make this decision, it truly makes me happy. As if I would hate you.” Geoffrey: “My thoughts exactly.” Elincia: “Lucia, Geoffrey… I value your lives more than even my own. But it’s my duty to protect this country, even if that means losing you. I’ve learned a lot from all of this. I hope to keep them out of harm’s way, and I’ll never make the same mistakes again.”

By the end of this section, the bulk of Elincia's arc is complete. She has decided what matters to her and what she will do as queen when put into high-pressure situations. She resolves the situation by deciding to be openly harsh in punishing Ludveck's followers despite the fact that it will gain ire toward her, as refusing to do so before gave him the opening he needed. She has decided to be uncompromising in the face of reactionary politics. Not everyone in Crimea will agree with her decisions, but those closest to her will never waver in their loyalty, to the extent that they are both willing to live and die for her. It's no wonder that, as her epilogue says, "Her reign was remembered as a golden age."

Conclusion

Because I touched on the topic of Elincia's agency and how she maneuvers within the limits of it, I want to give a brief shout-out to her actions in part three. She is Gallia's ally and does not want any more bloodshed in her lands. However, due to Begnion exercising its imperial power, she cannot fully stop its army from entering her lands in pursuit of the laguz alliance. The action she ultimately takes, dropping her weapon in between the opposing armies and essentially daring them to murder a queen of a country with whom they're both allied, all without betraying her own nonviolent ideals, is an unparalleled power move.

Getting back to Elincia's trolley problems, what I find interesting is that though Elincia's decisions are different in PoR and RD, neither game condemns her for her choices. She cares for both the mass of strangers that comprise her kingdom and the loved ones who she's spent her life beside. Her situation in each game is different, so she handles each situation differently in ways that make sense given her roles, pressures, and motivations.

FE in general, and Tellius in particular, asks the characters and players to care about the fates of individual lives as well as whole worlds. Both PoR and RD present the question of what someone would or should do when these personal and political goals conflict, without giving one black-and-white answer. Elincia's arc is just one impactful example of this.

As for me, I'm not gonna lie—though Elincia doesn't have the option to reset the game whenever someone dies, I probably always will.

#fire emblem #tellius #fe9 #fe10 #elincia #elincia ridell crimea #elincia fire emblem #lucia fire emblem #geoffrey fire emblem #path of radiance #radiant dawn #anyway I'm still yodeling about her finally getting a legendary. in the same year as her ascended alt even!

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fangirlfrom-hell · 6 months

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Several Missed Calls and a Sprained Ankle || Jay Halstead x Halstead Sister one shot

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly delated my blog 🫠

Also appearing Will and Connor Rhodes because I miss him.

I'm not a doctor, medical topics are vague.

Friendly reminder that Becca is Halstead sister.

☆

The Intelligence squad had just came back to the bullpen with a suspect in custody when Sergeant Platt came inside to interrupt whatever they were having.

-"Hey, Halstead! I've been receiving calls from your sister's school all day. They said they called your father, but didn't answer, so she asked them to look for you, but your phone was off".

-"I was in a UC run, I always turn the personal off...". He tried to explain himself with guilt.

-"That's what I tried to explain to them. Apparently she's injured and needs to be picked up as soon as possible".

-"Wh-what happened?" He hadn't even finished taking off his jacket and now he was hastily putting it back on.

-"They didn't elaborate on the matter, but they've been calling like crazy every half hour. I even volunteered to go and bring her here, but they did say it would be impossible if I'm not in the list". She pulled a face with that last statement. -"Can you believe that?"

Everybody settled in at the bullpen, all detectives listening to the conversation.

-"Boss..." Jay looked at Voight.

-"Sure, go. What are you waiting for?". He ordered with his arms crossed. -"We can take care of this".

Jay nodded his head as saying "thank you" and walked himself down to the parking lot trying to look chill, although on the inside he was really unsettled for whatever had happened to his little sister. He couldn't avoid being the overprotective big brother, it ran through his veins.

-"Hey, Detective. Make sure you put my name in that freakin' list!". Platt yelled before he crossed the door. -"I don't want to feel so humiliated again". She said in her usual exaggerated way. Then she muttered to herself: I'm a CPD Sergeant, who dares to say 'no' to me like that?

The long road to Becca's school in Canaryville wasn't helpful to ease Jay's mind. He was also feeling abashed for not being able to answer the call on time, although he was not responsible for attending those emergencies, therefore he was not aware of them. And where the hell was his father? Why didn't he answer those calls from school? He cursed him. This wasn't the first time something like this happened.

-"I'm here to pick my sister, Becca Halstead".

-"Oh, sure. We've been calling you for hours. Literally hours". The secretary gave him a judging look, which Jay tried to ignore. -"She's upstairs, the nurse is accompanying her. I'll notify her you're here. Follow me".

Jay followed the woman through the halls of the school until they went outside to the back yard. From the second floor of the building in front of them, he recognized Becca's ginger blonde hair. She was leaning on someone else to walk, looked like she couldn't do it by herself and there was some pain in her tiny face.

-"What happened?" Jay asked without taking his eyes off her.

-"She sprained her foot on the stairs, she didn't roll or hit her head, so there was no need to call an ambulance. It was an accident, some kids were playing around and pushed her unintentionally. We already took action on the matter, don't worry about that".

He walked upstairs to help his sister. As soon as he was able to entirely see her, he noticed how her foot was in the air, shoe untied.

-"Jay!" Becca said with relief.

-"It's all right". The secretary told the nurse. -"Her brother will handle it from here".

-"Is it your ankle? You can't put your foot down at all?"

-"No, it really hurts". Becca moved her head from one side to another.

-"It's a little bit swollen". The nurse talked. -"I applied ointment and ice for the pain, but I can't really do anything else in here. I think it's just a sprain, but she should be checked at the hospital".

-"Yes, I'll take her straight to The Med. Thank you!"

Jay took his badge and gun from his hips and placed them somewhere else in his jeans.

-"Sorry". He said, feeling the alarmed gaze of the two women. Then, he took the girl's backpack and put it on his shoulder. -"All right, Becs. Come here".

Jay hugged Becca and lifted her to carry her down the stairs. It was very easy for him, light weight, the girl was smaller than an average 10 years old. She placed her arms around her brother's shoulder.

-"Take care, Beckie". The nurse waved goodbye as she was taken by the detective.

-"This is so embarrassing". She said looking around to check if somebody was watching them, but the yard was empty, everyone was inside of the classrooms. Jay couldn't resist to laugh a bit. It was a cute funny scene: a big, tall, muscular man with a girly purple backpack hanging from his shoulder and a girl with an embarrassed face in his arms.

He didn't put her down until they were back to the office, where he had to sign some papers before leaving.

-"Is that all?" Jay asked.

-"Yes, you can take her now".

-"Oh! Before I forget". He said turning around one more time to the reception. -"I want to add another person to the list of people who can pick her up".

-"Sure. She does need that". She didn't miss the chance to look at him with a judgy face. -"What's the name of the one?".

-"Trudy Platt". He smirked. Becca just gave him a look.

At the truck, Jay placed her in the co-pilot seat and then opened the back door to put the backpack away.

-"What do you carry in this? Rocks?" He freed his shoulder from the weight.

Becca wasn't a talkative girl, but still she was unusually quiet during the road to the hospital. She only broke the silence to groan in pain, that's when he noticed her teary eyes.

-"Does it hurt?" Jay asked, knowing the answer.

-"Yes. I think it's getting worse".

-"We're almost there, just hang up a little bit".

He wanted to ask Becca about how she had fallen, since his detective instincts knew that it was due to something more than an accident. He opened his mouth to say something he had been holding up, but an incoming call interrupted his intentions.

-"It says Hailey Upton". Becca announced, grabbing his phone.

-"Gotta answer that". He sighed. -"Would you put it in the speaker for me, please?".

Both siblings knew each other quite well. Becca knew how Jay noticed something strange was going on, but she didn't want to be interrogated. And Jay knew how Becca was aware of that and was reluctant to speak.

-"Soooooo...Is Sergeant Platt coming to pick me now if I get sick?" She changed the conversation as soon as the call ended.

-"Is that a problem?" Jay laughed out loud.

-"Well, it's kinda scary".

-"She told me to put her name in the list, I don't know if it was true, though. The thing is that today I was on the streets working a case when all this happened. I didn't have my phone with me, that's why I didn't answer".

-"I imagined that. That's why I told them to call directly to the 21st".

-"Which was very clever of you. I'm sorry I wasn't there earlier, I should have".

-"You don't have to be sorry, I'm not blaming you for anything. You are not even supposed to be responsible for me, anyway".

She had this sort of way to make claims to his father and mother without even realizing it. That last statement made the rest of the road extremely quiet.

The moment Becca crossed the entrance door sitting in a wheelchair, she realized she had never been at The Med as a patient before. Maggie was pushing her to the ER where Will was waiting for his siblings. Due to the type of injury, Dr. Rhodes was assigned to Becca's case.

-"This is too swollen". Connor said while checking her foot. -"On a scale from 1 to 10, how much does it hurt?"

-"Uh, I don't know. Maybe 5?"

Both of her big brothers stared at her teary eyes and her sick gesture, not believing her answer. She was trying so hard not to cry.

-"6?"

-"Are you sure?" The doctor gave her a warm smile. -"I was expecting you to say 10 or maybe even beyond 10".

Becca remained silent, pressing her lips.

-"Ok. We'll do an X-Ray just to make sure it isn't more than a sprain. Meanwhile, the nurse will administer you some pain killers".

He went out of the room to order the studios and made a sign for the siblings to follow him outside, leaving their sister alone with the technicians for a few minutes.

-"What do you think?" Dr. Halstead asked.

-"I don't think she just simply twisted her ankle. For the damage, it must have been a harder impact".

-"Is it bad?" Jay asked with concern.

-"Can't tell until I see the X-Ray. What worries me the most right now is how hard she's trying to take the pain".

-"Yeah, that's something she does". Jay sighed. -"Not only with physical pain".

When the three men entered back to the room, Becca was silently crying, wiping her tears away. Jay was the one that approached to hold her. Her bruised and swollen ankle was a standout in the room.

-"Becca, you have what we call a severe grade 2 sprain and I'm pretty sure it hurts more than a lot right now. Why don't you say anything? You can complain about the pain, that's what hospitals are for".

-"I don't want to be a bother". The girl answered quietly, tears still dropping from her eyes.

-"What are you talking about?" Will walked to be close to the bed.

-"Becca...". Jay sat next to her and bent to be face to face. -"You are not a bother and you will never be".

-"It's just...I'm scared you'll stop answering the phone calls too".

In that moment, everything fell into place and Jay's heart dropped. The conversation suddenly closed to just the two of them, although everyone could hear their words.

-"Bec...I will never stop caring for you. I won't lie, sometimes it gets hard with my work, but I will do what is necessary so that something like today does not happen again. I promise".

-"But you shouldn't, like, you shouldn't be the one in charge of me. I'm a burden".

-"I know what you mean, and I know how you feel about dad, but believe me when I tell you how much it makes me happy to be here for you. I'm your big brother, it actually is my job to protect you. I love you, silly. I would never forgive myself if something happens to you. I wouldn't forgive myself if you didn't have the confidence to call me either".

With all being said and those emotions off her chest, her crying increased in tears and sound.

-"It's a 20. The pain is a 20" She managed to say in what seemed to be overacted, although it was only the natural response to having endured so much physical and emotional pain in such a short time.

-"Let's apply more pain killers". Connor talked to the nurses. -"And let's finish this up". He smiled at the little girl.

Jay found her reaction a little bit cute and couldn't resist smiling a bit when she jumped into her arms.

-"You will have to use the walking boot for at least 4 weeks". Dr. Rhodes informed when he finished. -"That if everything goes well".

-"What about dance lessons?"

-I'm sorry, Becs". -Dr. Halstead got into the conversation. -"That's going to be impossible. You need to give it a rest".

-"Not to mention the pain that would cause you".

-"Is she going to be able to be back when her ankle heals?"

-"If she listens to my recommendations in the letter, I don't see why not". Connor then turned to Becca: "I know this thing is very uncomfortable, but is necessary. You might start feeling as if you don't need it before the set time, but it is important that you do not take it off until I say so. If you trust me and you do this, You'll be fine and back to dancing soon".

Becca nodded sadly.

-"I understand this is very important to you, Becca. I can arrange to see you each week instead of two weeks to check how it is going".

-"Thank you, Connor''. His colleague said.

Becca yawned more than once on their way back to the Bullpen. She was discharged from the hospital, so she couldn't stay there and there wasn't any other place Jay could leave her. She was tired, her stressed body only wanting to rest.

-"Look at that!" Platt exclaimed when she spotted both Halsteads crossing the front door. -"It is my favorite Halstead!"

-"I'm glad to hear she's your favorite, because you are in the list now, Serge".

The Desk Sergeant smirked at the news.

-"I take this honor responsible".

-'All right, girl". Jay said, bending in front of the stairs. -"Let's do this again".

Becca hopped into her brother's back and he carried her upstairs, where all the squad greeted her with enthusiasm and good wishes. She sat in the coffee room waiting for him.

-"The punk confessed. We have enough evidence. It was an easy case, we're done for now". Voight informed Detective Halstead.

-"I'm sorry I wasn't here for interrogation, Serge. There was no one to take care of her...".

-"There's nothing to be sorry about''. Hank waved his hand from one side to another. -"Besides, you did your job, a good job capturing him. Now, you all are dismissed. You should take your sister to rest".

Detectives were able to go back home relatively early that day. The bullpen was empty when Jay went out of Hank Voight's office. There was only a blonde woman sitting at the desk in front of him.

-"Why are you still here?"

-"Your sister fell asleep on the couch. It didn't feel good to leave her alone in her condition". Hailey answered.

-"Thank you for that". He said honestly.

-"The same thing happened to me when I was a little bit older than her. I know it hurts like hell".

-"Yeah, she had a bad time. She's tired and drugged in pain killers, I should take her home".

-"Tell me if you need help with anything, I'm here. For real, partner". Detective Upton took her coat and walked herself downstairs.

-"Thanks again, Hails".

-"No problem".

It took him a while to stop staring at the stairs before going into the coffee room. There she was deeply asleep, it looked like she was melting.

-"Becca". He softly called her. -"Becca, it's time to go". But there was no answer, not even when he shaked her.

-"Well, third time's the charm. What could go wrong?" He muttered to himself and took Becca in his arms, this time as if she was a baby.

#Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x sister #Jay Halstead x Halstead sister #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfic #once chicago fanfic #trudy platt #haileyr upton #hank voight #Jay Halstead imagine

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arminsumi · 1 month

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🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

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