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zephyrchama · 4 months

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Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)

Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.

Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.

Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.

You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.

Lucifer

Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.

He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.

There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.

“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”

You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.

Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”

To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.

Mammon

Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.

“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”

He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.

After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.

It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”

“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.

Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.

He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”

Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”

He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.

Leviathan

It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.

He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.

He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.

That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.

When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.

Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.

“Lev-”

You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.

“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”

“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.  ”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”

 ”I… thought we were friends?” ”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”

All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.

“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.

He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”

“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.

Satan

Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.

You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?

Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.  ”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.

“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.

A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”

Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.

“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.

“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”

“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”

Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.

“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?” ”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?” 

“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.

After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”

“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”

Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”

“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.

“Well, I never said you had to let go.”

Belphegor

Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.

Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.

“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”

“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”

“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.

After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”

“Yep!”

“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.

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spaghettiposts · 1 month

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Picture to Burn

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summery: You should've known better than to fall for Cairo, your friend who seemed to have no interest in you, but it only takes one drink to mess things up and get you into her bed.

Warnings: Attempts at writing, angst, miscommunication, slight sexual content, underage drinking, Miller being an inconvenience, and heartbreak

Word count: 3.3k yikes

A/n: Hm, not sure how I feel about this one but its been sitting in my drafts long enough, might need a part 2...

“What do you look for in an ideal partner?” Cairo furrowed her eyebrows, her pencil caught between her lips. Your question threw her off track, and she grumbled softly as she erased a mistake. She glanced up at you, annoyed by your upside-down gaze and the way your lips quirked.

“Someone who doesn’t have a camera hanging around their neck all the time.” She retorted, eyes drifting back down to her notes.

You perked up, grasping the camera that was indeed resting on your neck. “Seriously?” You scoffed, settling back into the blanket.

Cairo smirked behind her pages, taking full satisfaction in your crestfallen demeanor. “Oh, and people who aren’t into Marvel.” She added, chuckling at your deadpan reaction.

Assuming the conversation was over, she resumed writing, scribbling random thoughts only to look away and meet your raised brow, tied with an expectant look. God you had to be needy. With a heavy sigh, she shut her book. Typical, you rarely gave her time to properly invest in her writing.

“Fine…I guess for them to make a good income? You know, enough to support me and my writing. Or at least put up with it.” Cairo explained with a shrug, nose scrunching at the way your eyes softened. Ignoring it, she pointed to you with her pen, hitting your nose, “And you are ten grand in debt, unfortunately missing the cut, so sorry.” She said with a faux pout.

Once again, you scoffed, pushing her away and murmuring about how unserious she could be. Cairo fell back on the blanket with a laugh, feeling anything but apologetic, though your smile gave you away.

As you reached into your bag for your notebook, Cairo assumed she might finally get some writing done. Quiet time was her favorite time with you - if you had to be there, which she preferred if you weren’t, totally. Either way, the sound of you fiddling with your camera grounded her; enough so she could focus on her work again.

Initially, Cairo found certain quirks about you irritating, but as she spent more time with you, she began to see them in a new light. The small curses that left your lips when your camera wasn’t working properly, the spontaneous photos you snapped of Cairo - they became endearing rather than bothersome. And above all, your unwavering support and genuine admiration for her writing. Something Cairo needed more than she’d ever admit.

With each word of encouragement and every heartfelt compliment, Cairo's heart swelled, in a dreadful way. It was more than admiration or appreciation; it was something more, a feeling she couldn't deny, no matter how hard she tried.

Though she continued to brush off your advances and maintain a facade of indifference, yet Cairo couldn't ignore you whenever your eyes met hers, the way your smile seemed reserved for her alone.

Yes, you were her friend, but that was all. Nothing was worth the risk of ruining things now. Especially if you didn’t truly mean what you spoke.

“Have you read anything new lately?” You asked, your back hunched over as you picked with the old thing. Honestly, Cairo couldn’t see why you still put up with it, the damn thing broke all the time. But still, it was a classic model from the 50s, an heirloom from your grandfather, which she could respect.

Her hand reached over and shoved at your back, smiling in satisfaction when you straighten your back, shooting a glare in her direction.

“I finished Lolita, it was on Miller's list for its themes of controversy. I wouldn’t read it again though.” She mumbled, “I did pick up this new book called Rebecca, it’s allegedly a psychological thriller but what’s so dark about being haunted by your partner's ex?”

You scoffed, doodling some part of the camera in your journal, “A lot.”

“Doesn’t seem too bad, I mean they’re dead right? Can’t do anything.”

“I wouldn’t risk crossing a paranormal creature like that.” You commented, with a shrug of your shoulders. Cairo hummed, watching you work. When you made no further comments she returned back to her notebook, spending the hour before class working separately.

—

Despite Mr. Miller's evident excitement towards writings of controversy, apparently, that wasn’t the case with Cairo. It was a mistake, a stupid mistake but a mistake she assumed a man like him would love. How wrong was she?

A student longing for their middle-aged professor was where the line was drawn. The hypocrisy of it all made Cairo want to laugh, who was he to dismiss her paper that way? She knows the other students, the other students who wrote worse. The book Miller had them read was even worse.

But no, what was done was done. And now she was convinced Miller thought she was coming onto her, just what she needed. Cairo wouldn’t be surprised if he reported her and there was suddenly a new switch in teachers. As annoying as that’d be, she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Instead of a clear schedule, there was now an overdue assignment, dragging her grade down that she had to redo. All. Over. Again.

Oh how she wanted to scream at that, a relaxing week gone.

“Stupid fucking Miller…” Cairo muttered, walking with haste to her car. Once inside she slammed the door, pressing her head against the wheel. A knock on her window startled the girl, causing her to look up with a huff, her eyes widening once she realizes who it is.

“Are you alright?” You ask, waiting for her to roll down the window. She does just that, wiping her face with her arm. Was she crying? “You look…off.” Typically your way of saying she looked like shit. Mascara smeared and all she couldn’t blame you.

Deciding not to answer your question, Cairo motions to the passenger seat, tossing her bag carelessly into the back seat. “Get in.”

“But I already have a ride-“

“And I’m offering…just come inside.” She grits between her teeth, letting out an impatient sigh. She doesn’t know why she needs you in the car with her but doesn’t give herself time to dwell on it, when you’re slipping into the seat next to her.

Your posture is tense and that bothers her. She didn’t mean to come off…abrasive. Taking her eyes off yours, she starts the car, preparing herself for the upcoming conversation. You quickly buckle yourself in without another word.

The car ride could’ve been more comfortable, which usually it was but your consistent nervous tapping was starting to bother the brunette. Wordlessly she threw her stapled papers in your lap, you opened your mouth to speak but Cairo beat you to it, mumbling a small ‘read it’.

You flipped through her work carefully and Cairo didn’t have the heart to look at your reaction, not this time. It was different with you judging her work, not that you judged, words of compliments spilled out of your lips every time you did read something of hers, tugging those same old heartstrings Cairo was starting to get sick of. Unlike those other moments, this time, it was different as you flipped silently through her work. Did she really screw it up this bad?

She heard a hiss leave your lips and if she weren’t driving the car her head would’ve snapped in an instant. Turns out you were only focusing on the grade and notes Miller left, better yet lack of.

You bit the inside of your cheek, slowly sliding the papers back to her, pursing your lips. Cairo huffed, removing one hand from the steering wheel to snatch them back, throwing them harshly towards the back.

So, she was in a bad mood. You thought, hands clutching at your knees, swallowing dryly.

“So?” Cairo asks, her voice on the verge of a shout.

“Well, it was interesting. I mean I skimmed through it so I don’t know, your writing was good- like always.” You spoke rapidly, a nervous trait.

“God Y/n, if you thought it was bad you could’ve just said so!” She blurted exasperatedly.

“I don’t! Cairo you know I adore everything you write, this just caught me off guard. Doesn’t mean I like it any less, I promise.”

A silence loomed over the car, and you shrank into your seat even further if that was even possible. Cairo let out a sigh, losing her grip on the steering wheel.

“Sorry, I'm just feeling…” Cairo's voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right words. She didn’t want to fight, not again. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest every time she saw that deflated look on your face. She couldn’t keep pushing you away, that wasn’t fair. But she also couldn’t shake that feeling of uncertainty she felt around you, about what she wanted, when you were what she wanted, “frustrated with this assignment.”

“And that’s okay,” You reassured her, your voice as gentle as ever, as you reached out to take her hand. Cairo’s gaze flickered down to your hands, feeling a mix of comfort and apprehension, before reluctantly allowing them to intertwine, giving you a small squeeze. “I’m here for you if you need me, anytime.”

Suddenly, the car felt much tighter than before, the lump in her throat growing heavier. She wasn’t sure when her eyes started to water or why your touch felt like a burden, but she knew she couldn’t hold it any longer. It all felt too intimate too quickly. Silently, she withdrew her hand, placing it back in her lap oblivious to the hurt expression on your face.

Yet, she couldn’t ignore the own ache in her chest.

—

A bright white light blurred endlessly in Cairo's eyes, slow and unresponsive to everything else that wasn’t her assignment. She fought tirelessly at the screen in front of her, the now blank page mocking her to no end. In the midst of it all Cairo recalled how easy her first essay had been to create, only to be dismissed.

With a huff and slam at her laptop, she tossed the thing aside, landing back on her bed with a grunt. She separates herself from her work, wiping at her burning eyes with her hands. To say Cairo was frustrated was an understatement. After driving around with you for a while she let you go, dropping you off.

A decision Cairo started to regret.

Once again, her parents were out of town doing who knows what. It was something Cairo was used to, but it still bothered her more than she’d admit. Some company would be nice, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take rewriting that assignment anyway.

After mulling it over in her head, she lifted herself up, to open her phone. Her eyes remained locked on your contact, holding a photo of you and Cairo at the library. While Cairo had her nose stuck in a book, you looked at her like she was everything and more. The picture only made her stomach gnaw uneasily, but still, with much hesitance she dialed your number, listening to it ring.

“Hey, can you come over?”

An astonishing ten minutes was all it took for you to appear at her door. Cairo smiled at you, tugging you in. She noticed you carrying a small plastic bag but didn’t comment on it, dragging you up to her room.

“I brought you something.” You said, softly closing the door behind you. Cairo sat herself on the bed, tilting her head curiously. “A lot of things actually.”

How Cairo managed to miss the balloon you had brought in with you, reading in big bold letters: ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ was totally behind her. Cairo raised a questioning eyebrow and you explained for her writing losses, and Cairo didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or punch you.

Fortunately, you reached into the bag before she could consider the latter, pulling out a familiar bottle of scotch that had Cairo’s lips contorted into one of mischief and pleasure. “And I figured you could use a drink, or two.” You muttered thoughtfully, tossing the bottle on her lap. Cairo traced the bottle with her fingers before twisting it open with a ‘pop’.

You moved around the room, searching for glasses you could use. Spotting two clean ones on the dresser you grabbed them, and settled down next to Cairo, leaving a respectable distance between you. Cairo already had her lips on the bottle by the time you poured the drinks and you raised an amused eyebrow, handing her the whiskey-filled shot. She downed it impressively and you attempted to do the same, failing quite miserably when the burn settled.

Cairo laughed and you settled further into her bed, grumbling embarrassedly. And it had only taken two more shots for you to really feel the effects, and you could tell Cairo was starting to feel them too, a giddy smile plastered on her face that never seemed to leave. Your shoulders untensed noticeably from how serene the air felt, wishing that every moment with Cairo didn’t feel like walking a tightrope.

Yet there was still something there – a lingering tension of sorts that no matter how hard you tried wouldn’t leave. You assumed Cairo felt the same when you met her eye and a soft smile tugged on her lips, one that you couldn’t help but return.

Time seemed to blur with the buzz of alcohol in your body, everything having been so peacefully quiet till Cairo shifted against the headboard, lips lingering on the bottle. Her gaze met yours and your stomach stirred. Not knowing why, foolishly, you looked away. Never had Cairo looked in your direction with so much fervor, and you’d be damned if she started now, under the influence when she didn’t mean it–couldn’t mean it.

But your heart would always betray you, now more than ever. So when she took another swing, you knew you were a goner by the way her eyes darkened and her teeth shone. Your own eyes remained locked to her lips and you swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race because she was staring back the same way.

Cairo didn’t seem bothered, chuckling under her breath as she tucked the bottle away, then swiftly advancing on you the next second, giving into what you both so desperately wanted.

She stumbles into your lap messily, thighs encircling your waist and you groan when she squeezes, placing your hands on her thighs to anchor yourself. Cairo took the opportunity to trail kisses down your collarbone, her lips moving frantically, eager to kiss every inch of you. You let yourself get lost in the sensation, trying to block out that part of your mind that tells you, this is wrong.

Cairo stifles a moan when your nails dig into her hips, grounding her and you both shiver at the contact. Your hand slides along her side, encouraging her, and she does just that, moving slowly against your thigh. Then the room changes completely when her noises become louder, and the pit in your stomach grows hotter. And you have to take a moment to separate yourselves, breathing out of sync.

“What are we doing, Cairo?” You whisper affectedly, rubbing your hands along her inner thighs and Cairo sighs.

“Whatever you want me to do.” She whispers back in the same tone, bringing your foreheads together. “Guide me.”

Despite her words, she’s the one to bring your mouths together first. It’s hesitant and slow, and you both sigh. Her hips press harder against you, and you break the kiss with a grunt. “More.” And that’s enough for you to kiss her again, in a much more heated kiss than before.

Your head is spinning in pleasure as Cairo’s hips grind against yours. With shaky hands you squeeze her skin, taking control of her movements and slowing them down. Cairo whines against your lips, begging and you realize you’re completely weak against her and give her what she needs, meeting her thrusts.

She comes undone on your thighs next, hips spasming, and gasping against your lips as she comes down from her high. Her body goes limp and she falls on your shoulder for support. You press a kiss into her hair, rubbing her back with your hand to soothe her, not really caring if the act is more intimate for whatever this is.

You switch your positions to lay her to rest on the bed, pressing soft lingering kisses on her face as you do, and she curls in beside you blissfully ignorant to what had happened, and you wonder if she’d still be like this with you if this never did occur.

Still, you hold her tighter, blinking as the past minutes replayed in your head, trying to make sense of the situation. Your thoughts only come to a halt when Cairo’s lips are back on your neck, and you shake away the goosebumps because you know you can’t do this again without truly knowing.

“Cairo—what, what did we do? What was this?” Your voice cracks through the silence, a lump forming in your throat.

“Sex,” Cairo states matter-of-factly, continuing to kiss your neck, but it has your heart dropping to your stomach and suddenly you feel sick. Maybe it was just the alcohol or the heartbreak, or both. Either way, it had you pulling away.

“But did it mean anything?” You ask hesitantly, sitting up next to take her hands off you. Cairo huffs in frustration but doesn’t stray her eyes away from you, the action only making it all the more difficult to ask. “At all—did you feel something?”

“Baby I felt many things,” She chuckles incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “What's with all the questions?”

Her wandering hands make it hard to focus on your words, each touch just a reminder of what you had done just a moment ago. You tentatively take her hands into your own, catching her by surprise. “I just mean- well you’ve never…shown or said you’ve wanted to be with me this way.”

“Just because I had sex with you doesn’t mean I want to be with you. It’s just sex, Y/n.”

You choke in disbelief, feeling a wave of soberness wash over and you let go of her hands, similarly to how Cairo did earlier.

Not really knowing what to do or say, you shuffle away from her, noticing her torn expression. It hurts you to look at her, so you don’t, choosing to face anything—the ceiling, her vanity. But everything ties back to her, and you hated yourself for allowing this to happen.

A wave of silence passes you before you have the strength to repeat something, “Right”. You manage to utter, your voice trembling.

When you make a move to leave, Cairo touches your wrist to stop you and you freeze. “It’s late, and you’re drunk. Stay the night.”

You take a shallow breath, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t think I should.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Of course not.” You mutter, sitting back against the headboard. Cairo doesn’t question the attitude, only sparing a concerned glance before moving off the bed. Her movements are sloppy as she makes her way to the bathroom, holding a new pair of clothes.

You don’t register when she returns, but it’s long afterward. Neither of you says a word, choosing to settle in silence. There’s a palpable tension when she places a pillow between you, a silent barrier.

You want to scream, to say something, to remind her who initiated it. Tell her that if anything, you should be uncomfortable with her. But that would be a lie. Your head continues to pound throughout the night, and you decide it’s better to sleep it off, unaware of how deeply affected both of you are.

The next day, Cairo wakes up to an empty bed.

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #millers girl

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sky-is-the-limit · 7 months

Text

"It's what friends do."

P:F!Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

CW: Afab Reader,Infedelity,

NSFW,Oral(recieving)

Song Rec: Friends by Chase Atlantic

WC: 2,560 words

Notes: @chai-isms had this lovely idea and I just had to extend it.. :)

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer!

____________________________________

"Okay, okay, I get it. You missed me." He murmures softly, a wide grin spreading across his face. You can hear his heartbeat as you hug, a soothing rhythm that calmes your nerves, one hand cupping the back of your head gently. His leather jacket is cold against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath against your temple. You barely had time to brush your hair and hastily put on your pj's before answering the door, excitement washing over you knowing who's behind it.

"Damn right I did, you idiot." I still do, you wanted to admit. You always do. Saudade is difficult to deal with, it deepens when there’s nothing you can do to bring a person back to you and especially when death can easily fall into the equation. It always takes a few days for you to calm your restless heart down, sooth it that he's safe back home, where Sergeant Garrick is put to rest and Kyle gets to breathe again, alive once more.

You'd think that repetition makes it easier with time until you remember that your hug is a foreshadowing of the goodbye that would later tear you apart. It always does and there's nothing to fill the immeasurable emptiness until you can see kind amber eyes staring back into yours.

"Hey, I'm right here, all in one piece. I'm here." Now his lively cheekiness turns into reassuring whispers, as though he can sense your worried thoughts. You can feel his grip tighten, hearts thumping in unison to the sound of gentle rain landing on the ground outside.

You and Kyle are like magnets. Always finding your way back to each other no matter what. It's rare to find a friendship like yours, even more complex to describe it. You met five years ago when your dearest cousin started dating one of his closest friends, mutual gatherings bringing you closer together until you became inseparable. It wasn't abnormal for people to assume that there was something more between the two of you.

You won't lie to yourself that thoughts as such never creeped in. Thinking of all the late nights you'd spent covertly admiring his profile, he had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. A smile bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the room along with unusually sharp canines in contrast with his soft features.

He is striking, as if angels had carved his looks and you'd be a horrendous liar if you dared to say otherwise.

''I missed you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear.'' He finally untangles his arms from your body, hesitantly at first, then stands a foot apart, unwilling to completely let go. A sense of completeness washed over you, as if the hug had filled a void only he could create and make disappear. Kyle's eyes twinkle, accompanying the familiar playful tone in his voice before his gaze flicker past you, giving his attention elsewhere.

''Is he coming tonight?'' Oh. Him. You don't even have to match his gaze's direction to know he's staring at one of the photos on the wall. With Kyle's return, you forgot that the rest of the world existed, even your own boyfriend. The bitterness in his voice crystal clear matching the subtle frown on his lips.

They never liked each other, really. Always competing for the number one spot in your heart as if that question wasn't already answered with the way you look at solely one of them.

It hasn't been long since you've started dating Eric, a timid, gentle soul with strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He is handsome, no doubt. Always treating you with kindness and respect, giving you his undivided attention and time like every proper boyfriend should. Yet every time you look at him, you get reminded of the awful motive hiding behind the start of your relationship. He is Kyle's polar opposite.

It's fucked up, you know it. The moment cold realization washed over you like a thousand crushing waves that you might feel more for Kyle, you immediately said yes to the first person who showed interest in you. Someone who reminded you nothing of the man who offered you sleepless nights, wondering if he's still breathing under the same sky. A deluded solution to a problem that cannot be resolved.

"Uh, no. He's stuck at work, so he'll probably stay at his place tonight." The growing smirk that was plastered all over his face the second you mumbled those words was transparently clear, no ounce of shame behind filthy thoughts forming in his mind.

"Good, I deserve some time alone with you." He leers at you, eyebrow arching.

"Kyle-" You try to look away, eyes darting around the kitchen but inevitably drawn back to his.

"Obviously, you needed someone to fill the time now that I was gone." His forwardness doesn't surprise you one bit. Though you attempt to keep a cool demeanour, your body is practically vibrating with anticipation. You keep your eyes locked in his, arms over your chest as though to keep your trembling heart from jumping out.

"What makes you think he's not enough?" Your playful provocation works wonders. He looks at you with his mismatched gaze, daring. A fainted gasp escapes your lips, eyes widening as he suddenly closes the distance between you with a purposeful stride.

"You want proof now, Y/N?" Kyle murmurs, thumbs tracing your abdomen over your soft cotton shirt, teasing at the waistband of your shorts. He took a step closer, leading you to press your lower back against the kitchen table whilst holding your gaze, completely still, clearly just torturing you at this point. Suddenly, you feel Kyle's cool fingers smooth over your bare thigh, and you instinctively jerk your leg away. You don't mean to, your skin is warm, and his hands are frigid.

"How about the countless nights of you calling me after he leaves so I can finish what he couldn't?" His fingers gently touch the side of your neck, caressing it softly as the words melt into your system, bringing back the agreement you so desperately missed while he was away. You had initially brushed it off as sexual frustration mixed with alcohol and your disoriented brain when it first happened. Oh, how naive you were.

A New year's eve party, a drunken kiss and a soft whispered 'I want you' brought both of you back to your cold apartment, flaming skins and shameless moans disturbing the deafening silence of the night. It started happening more frequently, as if your body was subconsciously begging for his touch and he was always aware. Perhaps it was the deep rooted loneliness that led to this, Kyle with his isolated job and you with your self -destructive tendencies.

How utterly wrong you were. You desperately told yourself that once you get a proper boyfriend, you'd put an end to this. Your body had a different reaction to your plans, rejecting your boyfriend's touch as if Kyle engraved his name onto it and it will accept no other.

"Fuck, this is so wrong-" You admit, a little breathless as if the words have no meaning behind them. The guilt vanished the moment you saw him again.

"It's what friends do, right?" Goosebumps slither down your spine as he whispers in your ear, lips gently grazing your lobe and your hips buck slightly, desperately at the lightest touch. To your surprise, his erection is readily felt on your thigh through the thick layer of his jeans, making you quiver instinctively.

"Help one another when one's in need, hm?" A surge of arousal hits your body instantly, feeling the near instant reaction between your thighs arising by the second. You can't help but shudder as he runs his thumb over your clothed nipple, your breasts heaving as you breathe rapidly. You ache for him like a starved animal locked in a cage for far too long.

"And I'm gonna show you, what a good fucking friend I am." Kyle informs you, his lips descending hungrily upon yours. Before you can respond, he scoops you up in one swift sweep, wrapping your legs around his waist. You catch yourself wanting to curse your reflection out for ever complaining that he needs to spend less time at the gym whilst he carries you like nothing, setting you down on the table without ever so much as lessening the strength of his kiss. His tongue dances around yours, stopping only to bite and pull at your lower lip.

It didn't take long for him to start trailing sloppy kisses from your jaw to your pulse, biting the place at the base of your neck where it connected your shoulder, then sucking the skin and licking over the freshly formed bruise. The thought of the mess awaiting for you tomorrow when your mind is clear from his intoxication, briefly creeps in and disappears with the same pace, every muscle in your body clenching to his mercy.

''Fuck, I missed you.'' He breathes, voice thick and gravelly with need and desire, before tucking his head into the base of your neck to take a long, shuddering breath in, his hands scurrying hungrily over your hips, thighs, and stomach, as if he's trying to remember your perfume, your body all over again.

''Show me.'' Please, you want to add but the words are lodged in your throat and get swallowed down the moment he brings his gaze back up to meet yours, lips brushing your own softly. You'd ruin yourself for him, turn your life upside down, all he had to do was say the word.

''You want me to take care of you, love?'' He asks breathlessly, his nose nuzzling against yours gently, sending blood up to redden your cheeks furiously to the sound of the sweet endearment. The words were soft like a blanket, pulling at your heart.

''Yes, please.'' A soft whine escapes your parted lips softly, your hips arcing upwards desperately to try and meet his. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, screaming for him and him alone.

''You know I will.'' He murmurs, eyes darkening proportionally with each new inch of skin exposed as his fingertips slid underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. ''I always do.'' No doubt ever crossed your mind when it comes to him, yet it's never needless to have him say it, voice oozing with desire.

''Beautiful.'" He whispers, tugging your bra cups down so your breasts were over the fabric of your shirt, making you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development. Gasping at his touch, you grind yourself against him, desperate for contact while he immediately begins sucking, biting, and licking your nipple while grabbing the other breast with his right hand, massaging it firmly.

''I need more- please Kyle!'' Your nails drag down his forearms, creating red lines impatiently and you're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, skin on fire contradicting the cold sweat slipping down your spine.

“That bad, hm?” He asks, slyly grinning against your burning skin. Even in these circumstances, he’s a cocky bastard, knowing exactly how lonely it felt without him, even with a warm body sleeping beside you. He quickly moves down so your thighs are on his shoulders, stretching between them, his cheek caressing against familiar softness. Your black laced undergarments slip off your body with ease, and you’re left bare under his hungry gaze.

He turns his attention to your soaked cunt, folds glistening with your overflowing slick. Without hesitation, he presses his lips against your slit, licking painfully slow your arousal and groaning at the taste of you.

Oh, if he only knew how many sleepless nights you spent with your own hand right where his mouth currently savors you, wishing it was him instead.

''Kyle-'' You moan his name like a desperate prayer, voice feeble and croaky to his touch. If your neighbors weren't already aware of his return, they are now. He shoots you a quick, sly smirk from between your legs before turning his focus to the task at hand, zeroing in on your clit, sucking tenderly as your legs clip down automatically around his ears, trembling.

His tongue is painfully, awfully delicate and torturously slow as it circles your sweet spot. In need to feel more pressure, you try to lift your hips into the pleasure as his grasp tightens on your thighs, promising blue shaded marks to appear so to hold you into place.

''I'll make up for the time I spent away from you.'' He drawles between tongue flicks, amber eyes fixed up at your face, not wanting to miss a second. Both of your hands were now gripping the table edge as you arch your back to the sensation, your core throbbing with pleasure.

''Your fingers-'' Before you could even finish your request, his plump lips rested against your clit, sucking it with need as he inserts two fingers inside of you with ease, curling them upwards to hit your spot instantly. His fingers fuck into you slowly, agonizing, matching the pace of his tongue flickering every inch of you. You jolt as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you grip the wooden edges so tight, your fingernails might leave marks underneath.

''All yours, baby.'' His voice sounds so broken and wrecked, he craves this as much as you, if not more. Your fingers tug at his hair, desperate for something to keep yourself grounded. The sound that escapes his lips is so feral, almost like a growl. His pace is brutal, and your eyes blur with stars as he hits the deepest parts inside of you with his long fingers over and over.

You can feel the orgasm building inside of you with each thrust of his fingers, threatening to leave you shaking and breathless in a way no man could ever quite manage.

Kyle humms softly, and your toes curl as the sound washes over you like a heated wave.

"You taste so good, fuck-" He whispers breathlessly before licking you again, slower and more deliberately than before. The action draws a sharp cry from your lips which is quickly stifled as you bite down on them, squirming under the flickers of sensation. It never fails to surprise you how easily he can read your body language, as though you're connected and so he quickens his pace, working in broad strokes, sliding against the sides of your labia.

You can no longer control the moans and whimpers that leave you as he laps at your cunt, white dots your vision as the orgasm hits you hard, your whole body shaking with the sudden release of tension. When Kyle finally tugs his fingers out, your walls clench around them, almost like your body was trying to keep them inside for as long as possible. It was heady, intoxicating and you couldn't get enough.

Speechless, your hand reaches down to his face, tracing the outline of it with your fingertips.

''Don't mention it.'' Kyle chuckles at your loss of words, raising himself up so he can press a soft kiss on your cheek, before bringing his hand to his lips, allowing himself to taste your arousal soaking his fingertips.

''It's what friends do.''

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thedevilspearl · 9 months

Text

author’s note ʚɞ i’m testing the waters with this one so please be kind about it. please also excuse the pet name sugar tits, i think it’s hot don’t judge me >_<

tags ʚɞ 5.6k words, dark content, mammon x female reader, bully!mammon, dubcon (forced consent), non–consensual photo taking, semi–public sex, (public) groping, blowjob, degradation, name calling, praise, pet names, humiliation kink, breeding kink, dacryphillia. minors do not interact!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ and his antics. it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. never did you imagine becoming his target but when you think about it long enough, you realise your whole existence in the devildom was set up to be a laughing stock from the beginning.

back when you had just arrived, he acted as your tour guide but then forced you to cover his dinner duties at home. he helped you with your homework since you were new to the subjects but demanded you pay him back with all of your saved grimm. he even lent you some of his friends to help curb your homesickness only to have them report back every little detail so he could blackmail you later on.

and those kind of things happen when he’s being nice; unfortunately for you, mammon is very rarely nice. not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to make your life hell.

mammon, the avatar of greed, the second eldest of the powerful demon brothers, and as he likes to call himself, your first man, rarely shows kindness towards you unless he can gain something from it.

even if he gets nothing in return, he will go out of his way. from tripping you up in hallways to stealing your possessions, and forcing you to complete his homework to treating you like his lackey. anything and everything he does is in some way or another intended to bring you misery.

you’ve grown accustomed to being pushed around and laughed at for the sake of some demon’s entertainment, but there’s something else you’ve also grown used to.

the fact is, mammon gives you more attention than he gives anyone, even himself. and it’s a delusional way to think but it helps you cope with your sorrowful life in the devildom.

you’ve considered confiding in someone; surely the bullying would cease if diavolo found out mammon was harming the student exchange programme like this. but at the end of the day, mammon held more power over you than diavolo himself.

each and every decision you make, reluctantly or otherwise, gives him more power as the days go by. because you have no other choice but to go along with it; and if you don’t want to, he’ll simply blackmail you.

a while ago, you became incredibly close to knocking on lucifer’s door and confessing everything after mammon snapped pictures of you showering and threatened to post them if you didn’t do what he said. lamentably, you gave up on the effort.

if lucifer found out, he would have punished mammon. and after that, you have no doubt mammon would come after you with those big threats again. and you’ve never been in a position strong enough to fight back against him.

the pathetic little human, the bane of his life. yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. demons are inherently evil creatures, that is a known fact. but after coming to the devildom, you learned demons are, in fact, not all monster.

they have bodies that look human and thoughts and feelings which may be questionable at time but still similar enough to the people in your own world to make you think wait a minute, they’re not all bad.

but that was before mammon revealed his irrational hatred for you. it has nothing to do with him hating humans or those weaker than him and everything to do with his dark, twisted infatuation with you. he’s the definition of cruel and demonic and you feel his animosity deep in your bones, now more than ever.

you don’t know how he did it, but staring at an empty locker where your rad uniform should be sitting boils your blood.

filled with fury, you storm out of the changing rooms in search of the demon.

mammon had already shrunk your sports kit by turning up the temperature when they were getting washed so your usually loose–fitting shorts cling to your thighs and butt. and after getting caught in the rain five minutes ago, you rushed inside to change your sodden white shirt.

but you were foolish to think things would go your way and now you’re storming through rad’s hallways with shorts riding up your ass and your bra fully visible under the wet shirt clinging to you. you’re overflowing with so much rage that you don’t care about the demons eyeing you in the tight clothes or licking their lips as you rush past them.

you spot your nemesis at the end of the hallway and for a moment, your heart stops beating. inhaling deeply, you build the courage to storm up to the white–haired demon.

he’s surrounded by his cronies, laughing at some sleazy joke that came out of his mouth and he refuses to look at you despite you standing in front of him. you know he knows you’re there. but in mammon fashion, he publicly humiliates you once again by completely ignoring you.

meanwhile, a small crowd of hungry demons gathers around you and your heart patters, shying under their interested eyes. but now is not a time to show weakness. now is the time to finally put mammon in his place, which is rather ironic since his place is among the strongest beings in all three realms and you are but a measly human.

“hey!” you shout and he rolls his eyes before finally turning to look at you.

just the sight of him infuriates you, but you’re not sure if the heat growing in your core is rooted from fury or from the way his eyes rake up and down your body. he blue orbs fall to your feet and slowly rise, taking in every detail of your frame.

little do you know, the shape of your body has him salivating. his eyes linger at your thighs, so thick and plush; your hips, so curvaceous and delicious; your tits, so tempting with your perky nipples poking through and your lacey bra visible under the wet shirt.

the tip of his tongue runs under his fangs before wetting his lips as they inch up one side of his face. as attractive as his smirk is, you want to slap it right off his face.

“what’s up, sugar tits?” he quirks his brows, nodding his head to notion the attention he has for the state of your chest, hence the nickname.

you follow his gaze downwards, fully grasping how much of your breasts were on display. you gasp, covering them but it does nothing to hide your entire ass also being showcased.

damn, mammon thinks. you might as well not be wearing any underwear with how tightly your shorts are pressed against your pussy. he can see everything.

“i knew ya were a desperate little thing,” mammon taunts. “but i didn’t think you’d be so dumb to come beg for me in front of everyone.”

“i didn’t come to beg!” you yell, cowering as the crowd fills with laughs and jeers.

“then what did ya come for?” mammon rolls his eyes.

“i came here to…”

“….to what?” mammon steps closer. his scent is intoxicating as it surrounds you. “ya came here to yell at me, the great mammon?”

“n-no….” you mutter, suddenly afraid of his close proximity. with ever step forward he makes, you take one back which ends with your back against the wall and his big frame caging you against it.

he creates a little cave between your bodies that holds barely enough air for you to breathe. just like always, he controls you in any situation. if he doesn’t want you to breathe, he will simply steal all the air you could possibly breathe. and that means locking you tightly between his body and the wall will suffocate you as much as he wants it to, regardless of your pleas for forgiveness.

“i’m sorry....i–i shouldn’t have yelled at you....i didn’t mean to.”

whatever flattery you have in your tone fails to do the job as he closes in, the space between you negligent while you try to figure out a way to escape.

but as your body heats up from mammon forcing proximity, his hands begin to roam your body and you lose the ability to think straight.

“aww, the little human’s blushing. ya like me being this close?” you whimper against him, but he leans in to your ear and whispers, “want me to touch you?”

a quiet but still audible gasp drifts to his ears and he reigns in the delicacy of the sound. such a sweet, pretty sound. he simply needs to hear it again.

“you do, don’t you?” he chuckles lowly. “just say the words and i’ll do it.”

despite every cell in your brain rooting against you, you quietly whisper back to him, “please.... please touch me.”

a rumble sounds in his chest, growling from the pleasure of you inviting him to touch you. the heat radiates from your body, your desperation oozing from your pores. and there’s something else coming from your body, something you’re so ashamed to admit.

mammon’s teasing alone is enough to create wetness between your legs and succumbing to his dominance has your pussy producing more arousal with each throb of your lips.

“ah!” you gasp as a large hand cups your breast. you push his arm away but it only tightens his grip on it. “mammon....”

“these are some sweet tits, mc. shame ya hid ’m from me for so long.”

you have no chance to protest as he moves onto the next, grabbing both your breasts and squeazing hard. you cry out, hoping it would signal for help but it comes out as a moan instead, arousing the audience further.

every demon wants a piece of you, but mammon lays his claim on your body by roaming every inch of it, grabbing every bit of flesh as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane, which might well be true.

with the way he kneads your ass between his rough fingers, you’re just about ready to submit to him completely, to sacrifice your entire body to him so he can have his way and be satisfied.

“fuck,” mammon grumbles as his hands slide lower; you moan and whimper, embarrassed by your helpless position. there’s no way you can come back from this, not when mammon’s hand cups your pussy, rubbing up and down to bring you the relief you so desperately needed. and to his surprise, he finds more than what he expected. “look at that! she soaked through her panties and her shorts.”

“it’s your fault they’re so tight on me....”

“but it’s your fault that you’re this fucking wet,” he reminds you, and you back down with a heavy blush. “you’re the one getting turned on by this, sicko.”

he continues groping you, fondling your tits and squeezing your ass before his hand moves to your front and cups your tight pussy over and over again. you find what energy you have in you to hide your moans but it’s a failed attempt. as quiet as they are, he still hears them.

“fuck,” he groans into your ear, and whispers so no one else can hear his filthy voice. “wanna fuck this pussy so bad.”

“d-don’t….” you whimper, but your resistance earns a harsh grip on your ass. his fingers dig deep into your flesh, sure to leave behind bruises. “stop....”

“hah? you’re telling me, the great mammon, no? darlin’, ya already know how that’s gonna turn out.”

your gaze is blurred by tears — from embarrassment, from shame, from arousal. you can barely understand the plethora of sensations in your body but you do know that mammon touching you is so wrong even if it feels so right.

it confuses you so much that you can’t stop your hand from rising and colliding with his face. at least your gut instincts are still working. you push him away in the moment he is stunned and your palm stings from the slap.

the entire right side of his face burns red as he holds it.

“the fuck?!” he growls, bearing his fangs at you. “you fucking hit me?”

the crowd gasps and mutters as he dives towards you with his fists raised. you brace for impact, ready to be slammed into the wall. he’s never hurt you so badly before, but today just happens to be the day where all lines are crossed.

you gasp, holding up your hands to protect your face but as if time has frozen, you don’t feel the impact coming. when you finally breathe and look up, mammon looks down at you with raging eyes and a contorted face — as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to do.

before you can even think to question why he stopped himself, the two demons you least expect to see appear, parting the crowd as they arrive: lucifer, with diavolo trailing behind him.

“what is the meaning of this?” diavolo bellows, his eyes draping down your form.

lucifer’s cheeks burn, not from blushing but rather, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. “what on earth are you wearing?”

regret floods you as you remember your position in their household. and you’ve brought shame onto the brothers for flaunting yourself around rad dressed in what might as well be underwear.

diavolo’s voice is a bit more kind towards you, but he’s definitely pissed. “i’m going to assume you aren’t aware of the dress code within these walls, mc. might i remind you that dressing inappropriately will result in punishment. as will attacking another student. you will both receive detention effective immediately.”

“it was mammon—”

“stop your sputtering,” lucifer snaps. “go change this instant.”

“but….my uniform was stolen.”

“by who?”

you glance slyly to the white–haired demon beside you and your heart hammers. you could tell lucifer now, tell him everything that mammon has ever done to you. but mammon’s death glare scares you. not because of what he might do to you if you snitch, but how you’ll feel if he is ordered to never interact with you again.

you’re sure diavolo would put a stop to the bullying straight away, maybe even move you out of the house of lamentation. but that means you’ll see less of mammon and despite how much you hate him, you’ll feel lonely without his constant unwarranted attention.

“never mind,” you mutter. “i’ll find it.”

you arrived to detention on time, not wanting to anger lucifer any further. thankfully, the eldest had figured out it was mammon who stole your uniform and had him return it. the classroom is empty save for your sorrowful soul.

you hope mammon doesn’t come. he skips detentions just like he skips classes so you’re happy to have some time alone to calm down before heading home.

but as your luck would have it, the demon struts in, spotting you in your seat before striding over to sit beside you.

“you can sit anywhere in the room but you choose to sit next to me?” you scoff. “i thought you were supposed to hate me.”

“i do.”

“then why are you sitting next to me?”

mammon won’t allow that, though. he’s in control. whatever fantasies you have of him being soft and affectionate with you are over the seconds he decides them to be and right now, he puts an end to them by slipping his hand under your blazer and cupping your breast.

“so i can do this.” mammon raises his hand, slowly but it’s still concerning. his fingers brush your hair away from your face and your mind spins from the action. his thumb creeps closer, brushing the soft, sensitive skin of your lips.

you’re afraid to look at him, to see the gentleness hidden beneath his mean facade knowing that you’d fall for it in an instant.

you were beginning to feel the phantom of his touches from earlier, which is nothing if not the biggest red flag. but having his hand places on them again, fondling them eagerly is infinitely better than the memories of his corroding touch.

every second which passes with his hands on you, another part of you is corrupted by him and those few sacred, untouched parts rebel against all odds and finally give you some self–restraint and control.

“don’t touch me!” you whack his arm away and scoot over to the next chair, embarrassed that you almost fell for him again. every single time he teases you with niceties and gentle gestures that border flirtation, you find yourself hoping that it might be real.

but he’s just playing with you like he always has. he wants nothing more than to make you feel like a fool under his charms. your humiliation is food to him.

“come on, you said it was fine earlier. let me do it again.”

“no,” you say firmly. “i don’t want you to touch me anymore.”

mammon huffs. “suit yourself.”

hopefully with a seat between you, he’ll put an end to his interest in you and ignore you just like you’re ignoring him.

but choosing to ignore him would be your biggest mistake because when you glance over, in the corner of your eye you see on his ddd a photo of you naked in the shower. your body jolts at the sight of it.

“what the hell, mammon?!” you scream. “what are you doing?”

“gonna post it on devilgram, duh.”

“wait, mammon! don’t!” you try grabbing for his phone but he yanks your arm away from it and pushes you away.

“come on,” he whistles. “show me your tits.”

“what....”

he threatens you by holding his thumb over the post button. “didn’t want me to touch you, well now you gotta do what i say or i’ll post ’em”

“please, mammon. don’t do this.”

“nuh-uh. you should be on your knees begging me if you want me to stop.”

an inhumane noise releases from your throat. you’re not quite sure what it was — a growl of frustration, a beg for help? you’ll bever know because you’re too busy sinking to your knees pleading for mercy.

“not yet,” mammon stops you before your knees graze the ground. “get your tits out first.”

“what?”

“fuck, how many times do i need to say it?” he stares at you, demanding your obedience and you slowly rise, shamefully removing your blazer. “that’s better.”

his demonic blue–gold eyes cut through your skin and you unbutton your shirt one button at a time, shrugging it off so it falls down your shoulders but still hooked on your elbows. mammon salivates at the sight of your pretty chest.

he’s been waiting to see them since he saw you earlier, but fuck. this is the real deal. your breasts sit nicely in their lacey cups and just like a few hours ago, your slutty nipples poke through.

his hand immediately goes to his crotch and palms himself. you feel sick, disgusted but the way his hand moves against himself and his reddening cheeks turns you on. you try to look away from him, but you simply cannot do so.

“c’mere,” mammon mutters and with the phone in his hand ready to post your nude pictures, you do as he says. “get on your knees.”

when they touch the ground, your body shudders and you settle in front of him. there are no words to describe the way he looks down at you. you almost feel like it’s a blessing to be looked at by him at all.

“take my dick outta my pants.”

“what?”

“are ya dumb or something? take my fucking dick out of my pants.”

you can tell his patience is running thin and you don’t dare to test him further when he waves his ddd in front of your face. you reach up with shaky hands to unzip his pants but he stops you again.

“do it with your mouth.”

what kind of fantasies must he be having to order you to do such a thing? well, they’re the fantasies you play a part in and you’ll play them out exactly as he desires for your own wellbeing, lest the entire devildom see pictures of you naked.

taking the metal zip between your teeth, you pull it down. the button is more difficult to undo but you get there in the end despite mammon cackling at your struggle. next, you bite the fabric before dragging it down his thighs.

the sheer size of his cock amazes you and the ghost of it fills you up just by looking at it. your body is begging for him to be inside you, and you pray he’ll never find out. he ushers you to keep going and in the same way, you pull down his boxers, looking him dead in the eyes as you drag them down with your teeth.

he hisses as his cock is freed, letting it bounce as it twitches to life. cum oozes from his tip and you mindlessly lick your lips.

“suck it.” he says and reluctantly, you inch forward, taking his tip between your lips. your tongue swipes over it, tasting his cum that you can only describe as the only substance you’ll need to survive on from now on.

“fuck,” he groans. “your slutty mouth feels so fucking good.”

your pussy throbs each and every time he calls you a slut no matter how much you hate it and he inspires you to take him deeper in your mouth in hopes of him calling you it again. his fat cock fills your cheeks and you move back and forth, tongue running along his shaft.

he’s thick and hard, too big to fit in your mouth and you can only imagine the size of it tearing your pussy walls apart when he finally finds his home in there.

“ya looked so fucking hot in those shorts,” he grunts. “bet ya loved every minute of it, strutting around like a slut.”

“i’m not,” you mumble around his cock. “i’m not a slut.”

mammon scoffs, somehow able to understand your muffled words while his cock sits heavy in your mouth. he tuts as you pull back, drenching his cock in your saliva. “don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know what a dirty little slut ya.”

“no…”

“every demon in that hallway was looking at ya and all i could smell was your sweet pussy leaking for me. bet they could all smell it too. bet they wanted ya as bad as i do.”

mammon….wants you?

now, that’s not something you ever thought of being a possibility. but as the words slip from his lips, your lower body heats up even more. there is so much desperation growing between your legs and you can’t hold back.

your nimble fingers find their way between your legs and mammon uses his foot to lift up your skirt and peek at the dirty things you do to yourself underneath it. god, your eyes are just so needy for him as he watches your fingers push in and out of your pussy.

the only thing blocking his view are the panties you pulled to the side and he orders you to take them off. it pains you to obey him again but the ache in your belly hurts so much more. if you listen to him well enough, maybe he’ll fill you up and finally put your body at ease.

after all that’s happened, the only thing you want right now is his fat cock stuffing you to the hilt instead of your amateur fingers which do not dare to match the level of pleasure mammon’s cock can give you.

swallowing bitterly, you gently place your soaked panties in the hand he holds out, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs already.

“you’re such a naughty girl, getting wet like this,” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the soggy patch on your panties. “so fucking bad.”

“i’m not!” you move away from him completely and plead on your knees. “i’m good, i’ve been nothing but good to you and you treat me so horribly!”

mammon supposes he should feel bad seeing you cry, but your cute little sniffles and the way your teary eyes look up at him through sodden lashes, well, it does make him feel bad….for what he’s about to do to you.

“aww, baby,” his hand snakes his hand under your chin. your skin burns from the way his fingers feel so right around your neck. his touch is gentle, guiding you up onto your feet and your knees are so weak that you begrudgingly lean on him for support. “i didn’t mean to make ya cry.”

his voice is soft as he feigns a pout while spouting such a lie. making you cry is a reward for mammon. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting off on this.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you whimper.

“oh darlin’” he kisses your cheek, nuzzling into your neck. the softness in his voice is foreign, and the gentle graze of his lips teasing your skin is addicting. “do you want me to stop?”

“huh?”

“want me to stop being mean to ya?”

freeing himself from the intoxicating scent of your pulse, he holds his face close to you with a hand on either side of yours, thumbs stroking your hot cheeks and wiping away tears. a sick feeling builds in your stomach, but a desperate, needy ache grows faster and stronger.

and as loud as they both are, you can only listen to one bodily instinct at a time.

nodding slowly, you don’t tear your eyes away from his hoping he will see how pathetic and miserable and desperate you are. you’d do anything if it means he’ll stop harassing you.

mammon’s wide smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he leans in, surprising you when his lips touch yours. your eyes grow to an abstractly large size and you don’t dare to move as he glides his lips against yours.

one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him and his cock presses into your tummy while the other snakes around your shoulders, grabbing your scalp and holding your head in place. despite your best efforts to push him away, you remain with your lips locked onto his.

they’re both hot and cold at the same time, both gentle and destructive. all of your walls break down as he pries your sorry lips apart, swiping his tongue along them before devouring your mouth whole.

you moan and gasp against him, beating his chest with your fists but he refuses to let you go and to your dismay — or delight, you can’t quite tell — his hips begin moving. he grinds into your body, rubbing his bare cock along your tummy and leaving cum stains on your clothes.

every alarm in your body rings loudly and you lose the ability to breathe. your mind fogs up from the lack of air but you’re sure he’s doing this on purpose, not allowing you a single ounce of it and if one manages to slip past your lips, he steals it right away.

you know how he works. what mammon wants, mammon gets and while he deprives you of oxygen, he’s waiting for you to give in.

he forces his tongue deep in your mouth but the feel of it is new and draws out a deeper beast within you, greed and excitement growing in your core. while his cock ruts against you, your hands find it and you slowly stroke him, spreading his pre–cum along his length.

“that’s it. keep doing that,” he groans, lips only inches apart. “good girl.”

a whimper escapes you as the words roll of his tongue and your pussy erupts in sparks.

“what’s that, huh? you like it when i call you good girl?” biting your lip, you nod eagerly, earning another proud smile from him. “hm, maybe i should keep calling ya it. but then again, you’re nothing but a worthless slut.”

mammon grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you to the cold, hard ground. before you can wiggle away, he has you locked in place with your arms pinned down at the sides and your legs stretched on either side of his hips.

“mammon!” you yelp. “please, no….”

“dontcha ya want me to stop being mean to ya?” he questions, eyes filled with madness as he yanks down your bra and gropes your breasts. holding you in place as you writhe against him, mammon leans down and takes your nipple between his lips. “i’ll stop if you let me fuck your sweet little pussy. it’s a good deal, ain’t it?”

it’s the most horrific deal you’ve ever heard but you’re beyond reasoning at this point. the two things you desire most — for him to fuck you dumb on his cock and for him to stop bullying you — he can give to you right now. there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone, right? if he’s going to be mean about it, you’ve no choice but to take it given it’s the only chance you’ll ever have to free yourself from him.

“fuck, your tits are so sweet.” he can’t stop playing with them, squeezing them, slapping them and marvelling at the way they jiggle, then pinching your nipples and pulling them taught before releasing them and taking them in his mouth again.

“ah!” you moan. “mammon, don’t…” but the warmth of his lips is welcomed by your body and you arch into him.

burying his face into your breasts, he sucks and bites for what feels like hours, covering your mounds with bruises and when he rises with a gasp, his lips are covered in his saliva. his mini–makeout session with your breasts makes every hair on your body stand tall, all the while, your pussy leaks onto the ground beneath you.

mammon grabs both of your breasts, blessing each of his hands with their softness and rubs his cock head over your puffy lips.

“fucking sugar tits, alright,” he jokes. “ya like it when i call ya that?”

you shake your head violently but the truth is, you haven’t stopped thinking about it since he called you it earlier. it’s such a ridiculous name, so degrading and obscene. yet, your hole clenches over nothing when he calls you it.

“that’s right, sugar tits. i can feel your pussy throbbing against me.” mammon warns. “you’re gonna cum while i call ya sugar tits, ain’t ya?”

shaking your head again, you cry no’s and stop’s but each of them fly past his ears. but a guttural feeling deep down knows you’re glad he won’t listen. your pussy aches for his cock to fill you up, for your name to roll off his lips while he fucks his cum far into your pussy.

“you want this, don’t ya?”

“no,” you sob.

“don’t lie to me, bitch. you know you want it.”

“i don’t!”

oh, but you do.

you want this more than anything but you’d rather him not know because it would only give him more fuel to ruin you with.

“yes, you fucking do,” he forces the answer for you. his grabs his cock and prods it against your hole. it’s so wet and slippery that he almost falls deep inside but he’s using the last remainders of his control to hear you say the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. “you fucking want this. tell me you want this.”

you whine. struggling against him but he pushes you down with his ungodly strength.

“say it or i’ll post the fucking pictures.”

“i want it!” you yelp, the words blurting out against your will. “please, mammon. i want it!”

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

and with that, mammon pushes himself past your hole, his leaking tip digging its way into your pussy. your legs fly in the air as you feel him stretch your walls unbelievably wide.

“fuck! mammon!”

“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby,” he grunts with each thrust. “i knew ya wanted my cock this bad.”

with each rock of his hips, your body drags against the ground and he pins you down in place again, arms at your side and body spread wide for him. his eyes latch onto your tits bouncing with every thrust.

they mesmerise him, the way they knock up and down with each hard thrust acting as hypnosis for the demon and he grows desperate for release.

“fuck, sugar tits,” you clench at the pet name. it’s so humiliating but it feels so fucking good, as good as his cock battering your insides. “such a fucking slut enjoying my cock like this.”

he spits insult after insult, mocking you for your weakness against him. “nothin’ but a dirty little human desperate for some demon cock, huh? bet that’s why ya let me fuck around with ya for so long, because ya wanted this to happen, wanted me to fill your tiny little hole with my cum. isn’t that right?”

“no,” you shake your head, but you’re quickly met with his hands gripping your face harshly. “i mean, yes! yes i wanted this!”

“keep going….” he ruts harder, knocking your insides in the right way.

“i wanted this for so long, mammon!” you cry. “wanted your cock so bad i let you treat me like dirt all this time!”

“that’s right,” mammon groans. “i’m always fucking right about ya. nothin’ but a slutty little hole for me. gonna fucking breed ya with all of my cum, and no one’s ever gonna touch ya but me.”

“oh!” you moan, relishing in the words spilling from his lips. you know he doesn’t mean anything special by it, but you’re so blissed out from his cock that for a moment, it feels real. you’re his and his only in the empty classroom and you feel….special. “mammon, it’s so good!”

“yeah? my cock’s making ya feel good?”

“yes!”

“fucking hell, sugar tits loves my cock,” he yells for the whole school to hear, laughing at your the way your pussy tightens when he says it. “go on, you say it too.”

“huh?” you whine.

“fucking say it, scream it. need the whole fucking devildom to here ya being a slut for me.”

“but—”

“say it, angel. or ya don’t get to cum,” he grins seeing the desperation in your eyes, so obedient to him just for an orgasm. how much more pathetic can you get? “go on, be a good girl and say it.”

“i….i love mammon’s cock….”

“louder.”

“i love mammon’s cock,” you repeat but he still isn’t satisfied. he thrusts into you particularly harshly, a yelp escaping your lips and you hear his message loud and clear, screaming, “i love the great mammon’s cock!”

“that’s right, sugar tits,” he leans down. “ya gonna cum now?”

you nod fervently, desperate for release. his cock drags along your clenching walls, awakening the hidden sweet spots as your nectar leaks around him. “wanna cum! please!”

“go ahead, baby,” he ruts with a deep groan, coming close to the edge himself. “i’m gonna finish inside your filthy little pussy.”

“hhm,” you moan. “you shouldn’t!”

“but i’m gonna anyway.”

all it takes as one more thrust to feel ropes of mammon’s hot cum spurting out into your pussy. his thumb finds your clit and pinches it, pulls it, then circles it roughly while pushing his cum deeper inside you with his cock. seconds later, ecstasy washes over you and your body loses control, spasming against his cock as you arch deeper into it. your walls are painted white with his cum and his cocks remains sheathed in your pussy as you writhe through your prolonged orgasm.

“fuck!” you squeal. “it feels so fucking good!”

“holy shit,” mammon groans, hissing when he finally pulls out from your hot mess of a pussy. “that was fucking amazing, huh?”

he falls back, watching your body twitch and tremble and his cum pours out from between your legs, giving him the perfect idea. he reaches for his ddd and opens the camera, facing it towards your blissed the fuck out body.

“hey, sugar tits,” you look at him, haunted by the sick grin on his face. “smile for the camera.”

“wait, mammon—”

“shaddup,” he mumbles and seconds later, several snaps of his camera sound. you yelp, covering your chest and closing your legs in a weak attempt. but mammon’s strength is far to superior to yours and he yanks your legs back open. “i gotcha now, angel.”

“what…?”

he snaps several more pictures and even a short film of his cum gushing out of your pussy. “fuck, i could sell these for some real grimm.”

the way his eyes light up terrifies you and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cease to exist. if he did, your life in the devildom would truly be over. you’d have no dignity remaining from what little of it was left anyway.

“you said you’s stop!” you cry. “you promised you wouldn’t mess with me anymore if i let you fuck me!”

“ya didn’t actually believe that, did ya?”

the world comes crashing down on your heavy, aching body and you’re overcome with violent sobbing. all hope is lost; there’s nothing good left for you now. mammon has made sure of that.

“why? why are you doing this to me?”

“because you’re nothing but a worthless slut. but you’re fun to play with, i’ll give ya that.”

every nerve on your body aches with humiliation. and what’s worse is knowing mammon gets off to it every single time.

how could you ever think you would mean something to him? you know your place full and well yet you still strived to be something more to him, when in reality, all you are is a toy for him to play with, a pathetic human designed for him to ruin in every way.

“p-please….” you sob. “please don’t tell anyone.

“that’s right, angel. you better do everything i say from now on, or else the entire fucking devildom is gonna know how much of a greedy slut ya are. fuck, ya were so fucking desperate for me to breed ya.”

your heart collapses into your stomach; you were a fool to ever believe him. his words and his touches twisted their way into your core and you gave into your sickly attraction to him. but what’s done is done and the best you can do now is some damage control.

“y–you won’t show the pictures to anyone….right?”

mammon scoffs with his devilish grin refusing to leave his face. your skin tingles as he glares at you. despite his terrible attention span and low grades, mammon is smart when he wants to be and smart he is by hacking away at all of your strength, leaving you with nothing but weakness and in the position he’s been wanting you in since the beginning.

“i won’t….for a price,” he grins. “what are ya willing to do to stop me from showing ‘em?”

with one question spilling from his lips, your mind shatters upon the realisation that your existence is now in his hands. you swallow, giving up on all of your pride and courage and hoping desperation will help you. and you really hope it will because that’s all you have left.

“anything. i’ll do anything.”

“good,” his eyes are dark like deep water as he leans over you again, engulfing your pitiful body in his scent. your heart races, tears soaking your eyes as you officially sign away your life to him. “because from now on, you’re the great mammon’s personal slut.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me smut #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon smut #obey me x reader smut #obey me x female reader #tw: dark content

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pulisicsgirl · 8 months

Text

not going anywhere - christian pulisic

summary: after Christian (and several others) notice how Y/N hasn't been herself for the last few weeks, he finally decides to confront her about how she's feeling

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings/tags: established relationship, angst, discussions of mental health and illness, mentions of meds, supportive Christian, hastily proofread

requested: no

notes: Hey there!! This has been sitting in my draft for probably 6 months and I wanted to put something out, so I tried to finish it and make it at least decent for y'all! I promise I'm trying to work on your requests and I have several halfway written, but I've just been struggling in the writing department all summer. Thanks for being patient with me! If this fic is a steaming pile of garbage... pretend you didn't read it

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Christian that you hadn’t been yourself lately.

Your relationship was fairly new, having only been together for a few months, but as attentive as Christian was, he recognized the little things that had shifted in your personality.

He noticed how when you smiled at someone, it never quite reached your eyes—the little wrinkles that usually appeared in the corners were absent. He noticed how when you laughed, as soon as you thought no one was looking, the grin on your face quickly faded, replaced by the absent and distant look that adorned your face so often recently.

He noticed that you would zone out far more often than usual, eyes unfocused as you stared at a distant point. When he caught you in this state, Christian would tangle his fingers with yours or gently place his hand on your thigh, drumming his fingers in an attempt to pull you back from wherever it was that you would drift off to.

He was concerned, to say the very least, but each time he tried to bring it up to you, you dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand, chalking it up to being tired or overworked.

It didn’t take long for others to notice the change, too. As a prominent member of the media department at Chelsea, you had a friendly relationship with many of the players. You were often on the training pitch or on the sidelines at games, snapping photos of the boys as they played. Often, you would mess around with them, cracking jokes and laughing along with them, but not recently.

The joking had been cut to a bare minimum, and you rarely interacted with them at all. You spent just enough time on the training fields to get the content you needed before leaving to work in your office, unseen for the rest of the day. Several of the boys had asked Christian about you. They missed you. But Christian didn’t know what to tell them.

Finally, Christian decided enough was enough. He would have to “corner” you in some way and get you to talk to him. He had wanted to let you have your space and respect your desire to not talk about the matter, but he could see the whole situation physically weighing on you, and he knew that if he continued to let you bottle it up inside, you were going to explode. He resolved that by the end of the day, he’d talk to you.

That night, you had come over so that the two of you could have dinner together. Most of the dinner was spent in silence, you lost in your own thoughts, and Christian trying to work up the nerve to ask what he needed to. He wasn’t sure how to approach this kind of conversation with you—the two of you hadn’t dealt with a situation like this yet in your relationship.

Once your plates were cleared, you stood in his kitchen, washing the dishes, despite Christian’s protest that he could do it later that night. He sat on the counter, wanting to still be in close proximity with you. His heart broke a little when he noticed that you weren’t humming like you always did when you cleaned.

You rinsed off the last dish, placing it on the drying rack with the others, and you were rinsing the leftover suds from the sink when you felt Christian’s arms slide around your waist. He pressed his chest to your back and rested his chin on your shoulder as you turned the sink off, drying your hands on a towel.

“Can we talk?” He spoke softly and placed a kiss onto your shoulder.

You felt your heart sink in your chest. You knew this conversation was coming, but you were hoping to postpone it as long as you possibly could. “Yeah, what’s up?” you tried to speak casually, downplaying the nervous feeling that had settled in your stomach.

“C’mere,” he whispered. You dropped the towel on the counter next to the sink as Christian pulled you to the side where he had been sitting before and turned you around in his arms. He placed his hand on your hips, lifting you to sit on the countertop.

For a moment, the two of you remained in silence. Christian stood between your legs, unsure of what to say first. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing the bare skin below your shorts soothingly. Your heart pounded so quickly in your chest that you swore he could hear it as he stood in front of you. You desperately tried to calm yourself, still determined to play things off if you could manage it.

“So… um, you… you haven’t really been yourself lately,” he stumbled over his words and mentally cursed himself for starting so poorly. “I just… I’ve noticed a lot of little things that seem different, and you don’t really seem… happy.” He glanced up at your face, trying to gauge your response. He felt a little guilty for being so direct with the situation, but he didn’t want to keep dancing around the problem.

You drew in a breath, but Christian spoke again before you could. “And please don’t tell me that you’ve been tired, because you keep saying that, but I think it goes beyond that.” The nervousness you felt only intensified, and now you felt slightly nauseous, knowing there was no easy way out of this conversation.

You brought one of your hands up to your mouth, biting at the skin by your nails. Christian recognized the nervous habit of yours and he saw how you used it to try to put space between you and him as a form of defense. He reached up and took your hand in his. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled your hand back into your lap and looked at your face with earnest concern.

You hesitated a moment longer, looking anywhere but at his face. Sitting in front of him, your hands held in his, resting on your thighs, you had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. He stroked his thumb over your knuckles, squeezing your fingers in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts and back to him.

The silence between the two of you was long and overwhelming as your head spun with wild thoughts. Did you continue trying to put a wall between you and tell him nothing was actually wrong? Or did you open up to him, tell him what was really happening, and run the risk of scaring him off?

“Come on, I can practically see you getting lost in there.” He poked your forehead gently with his free hand, laughing softly to try to relieve some of the tension in the air.

You glanced up at Christian’s face, and his gentle, reassuring smile brought tears to your eyes instantly. Looking back down at your lap so he couldn’t see you beginning to cry, you settled on trying your best to explain the thoughts that had been swimming around in your mind for the last couple of weeks.

“I don’t know, Christian, I just… kinda get this way sometimes.” You shrugged your shoulders. It didn’t make sense to most people, but it was the reality. “Nothing really happened. Everything is fine. You didn’t do anything. I just… I feel kinda hollow.”

Christian was relieved to hear that your pain hadn’t been cause by something he had done, having toyed with the idea as he wracked his brain for the last weeks, trying to think of what could have gone wrong to make you feel this way. But he still wasn’t sure he understood exactly what you were saying.

“I used to take meds for it, but I stopped taking them a little while after I graduated high school. They made me feel like I wasn’t really myself, and I didn’t want that anymore.” Your still fidgeted nervously as you opened up to him, but at the same time, the weight on your shoulders felt the tiniest bit lighter as you let Christian bear some of it with you.

Christian remained silent for a moment after you stopped talking, processing the things you had just told him He thought he was beginning to understand what you were saying, though your vague description left several questions swirling in his mind. He was happy, though, that you finally felt comfortable opening up to him, and he figured the finer details could wait until another day.

His silence, however, did nothing to calm your racing heart.

“So, I guess this is the part where you leave?” you whispered before you could even think about it, uneasy with how quiet the room had gotten. Your eyes were glued to your lap, and Christian’s hands froze at your words, where they had been smoothing over your knuckles, trying to soothe you.

“W-what?” he stuttered in surprise, heart sinking at the thought that you might be breaking up with him. When you finally looked up to his face, his eyes were wide, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked so hurt that you almost felt bad for saying it in the first place.

You took your hands from his as you began to pull away from him, picking at the edges of your fingernails, fixing your gaze downward again. “I’ve done this before, Christian,” you mumbled. “I get weird, you ask about it, and then once you find out that I can’t be fixed… you leave.” You sigh, having resigned yourself to the outcome that had played out in your life before. You sat there, feeling defeated, with your shoulders slumped.

A sniffle coming from him causes you to dart your eyes up to his face, and his eyes are misty as he fights back the tears that he can feel welling up in them.

“You really think that?” his voice quivers.

All you can muster is shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what everyone else did. I’m not worth the trouble.”

Your words shatter his heart into a million pieces. The pain of thinking you were ending your relationship vanished quickly, replaced with a new kind of pain at the realization of how you had been treated in your past.

As the first tears slipped down his cheeks, Christian pulled you into a tight hug, holing you as close to his body as he could muster as he buried his face in your neck. You felt the warm tears against your skin as you slowly returned the hug, caught off-guard by his actions.

Christian felt a bit silly. Here he was, crying on your shoulder after the things that you had just revealed to him, experiences that you’d had in your own life. He just couldn’t fathom that anyone could possibly treat you in such a way. You were the kindest, most gentle and caring woman he had ever known, and he truly believed that you deserved the world. Sure, it had been hard to see you in the state you had been in for the last few weeks, but he knew what he was feeling was nothing compared to what you were. And it never would have even occurred to him to think of you as burdensome—to think that he needed to “fix” you in some way.

Christian drew back from the embrace, quickly wiping his eyes while he still held onto your waist with the other. You were caught a bit off-guard by his behavior, never having experienced this reaction before, and you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Christian breathed a soft “I’m sorry” before he looked back up at you, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, and you couldn’t help but lean into his comforting touch.

“Y/N, you are absolutely worth everything. It’s not a burden to be with you. You know that right?”

Tears quickly sprung to your own eyes at his words, and you cast your eyes back down to your lap. In an honest answer, you shook your head ‘no’. This was how you had always thought of yourself, and you constantly felt like you needed to be compensating your partner in some way for the things they had to put up with for your sake.

Christian’s other hand came to your cheek, holding your face gently so that you would look him in the eye.

“You’re not a burden Y/N,” he spoke softly, his eyes flicking over your face. His expression held a sort of desperation—aching to show you that he truly believed what he was saying. “You’re not, I promise. And I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life telling you that until you believe it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

‘…every day for the rest of my life…’

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you?

Marriage wasn’t something the two of you had really talked about yet, because your relationship was so new. But any time you thought about your future, you knew you wanted Christian to be in it. And knowing he felt the same way meant the world.

You felt Christian’s thumb brush across your cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. You could only stare at him, wondering to yourself how you had managed to find someone as perfect as him.

“I’ll always be here for you. Anything you need,” he smiled at you, feeling that he was finally getting through to you.

The only response you could muster was a soft, “okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

The relief Christian felt that he finally had some understanding of why you hadn’t been yourself over the last few weeks was nearly overwhelming. He pulled you toward him, pressing a firm kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Never doubt that.”

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fics #footballer fic #footballer imagine #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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jaegeraether · 5 months

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 30)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (28) & Alexia Putellas x Character (4)

Masterlist (other parts here)

It was MD-1 for Barca and they were notorious for training hard on those days. Long days.

Lucy arrived alone, feeling almost naked without her phone, but she was also a little relieved to not have it, so she wouldn’t be seeing anymore photos of YFN and Leah online. After she’d shattered her iPad, Alexia had helped her find one of the medical staff who were still onsite to remove any shards of glass and wrap her hand. It wasn’t ideal, and she was angry with herself for losing her temper, but Alexia had helped her calm down and convince her that she needed to keep that space, out of respect for her girlfriend. It was media, after all, who were notorious for starting drama where there was none. Lucy knew better. She knew where Leah and Jordan’s hearts were, and if she put aside her insecurities, she knew where YFN’s was also. With Lucy. Lucy just hoped she hadn’t scared her away.

“Lucia! There you are!” One of the security guards rushed over as she arrived. “Your phone.. one of the fans found it.”

Lucy felt a sense of relief. Her need for YFN to be able to contact her trumped her jealousy of seeing photos of her stunning Australian with Leah. “Do you have it?”

“No.. they said they will bring it to the game tomorrow for you. I’ll find them and bring you to them tomorrow.”

Great. Another full day without it. “Thanks for letting me know.. I’ll look out for you tomorrow.”

Lucy walked onto the field and over to their exercise room, giving the camera a small acknowledgement that was a lot less than her usual grin. She just couldn’t pretend she was happy today when she wasn’t. The aching inside her, the unresolved discussions they had yet to have. Without her phone, she couldn’t even look up photos of the game YFN was at today, hoping she’d see her in the background of Jordan’s game. She dropped her boots outside and walked into the training room, the last to arrive. Ona was immediately on her.

“Lucia! Your hand!” She almost shouted, worried as she took Lucy’s hand. Lucy pulled it away a little too harshly.

“It’s fine.”

Alexia caught her eye and gave her a look. Lucy must have given a terrible response because Alexia came over then before Ona could try to talk to Lucy further.

“We did too much boxing last night.” Was all she said, as she stood between the two and crossed her arms, looking at Jonatan. That was the end of that. Ona still seemed slightly worried for Lucy and her mood. She rarely took things to heart, and always felt what other people felt deeply. A true empath.

The players were in groups or pairs most of the day, Alexia ensuring she kept Lucy close. They were rough with each other all day, not noticing the other players giving them wide berths and worried looks from afar.

“Okay, Lucia, enough.” Alexia said as they collapsed onto the grass, the soccer ball landing somewhere nearby.

They took their time to get their breath back, and Alexia was the first to sit up.

“What do you need, Lucia?” Alexia asked. She was asking as a Captain, because she didn’t really understand her needs.

Lucy was still on her back, staring up at the clouds. The sun was getting low, and she wanted to see the sunset. “I need your phone.”

She paused before she responded. “Okay.”

As easy as that? Lucy sat up and watched as Alexia collected her phone from the sidelines and came back over to sit on the grass near Lucy. Lucy took the phone gratefully, but perhaps also a little too eagerly as she looked for photos of the Aston Villa game. It had already ended, and Chelsea had completed dominated them, but she wasn’t looking at that. She was looking for her girlfriend who she found in several photos on the sidelines.

There she was, shivering in the rain with her purple beanie on as she smiled from the sidelines, those little dimples excited to see Jordan play. She was in the perfect spot to be caught in several photos and videos, talking to her work mates, talking to players, taking some photos of the players herself. Lucy watched one video several times where she raised the camera up to her eye, paused, clicked the perfect shot and then lowered the camera to look proudly at her work, exposing her pink nose that Lucy just knew was freezing cold. She saw her talking to Millie and Erin Cuthbert from Chelsea, and then with her arms wrapped around Jordan as they caught up after the match. She looked so happy, and Lucy’s heart missed that. It longed for her. Even more so when she realised that she was wearing Lucy’s hoodie. That was enough proof for her that she hadn’t scared her away just yet. Still, the need to have a proper conversation with her Australian weighed on her heavily.

She was staring at one photo in particular of her and Jordan cuddled together, warming each other in the rain when Alexia spoke.

“She’s pretty.”

Lucy gave a small acknowledgement at that, still staring and taking in all of her. Butterflies appeared in her stomach like she was a teenager in high school with a crush.

“You don’t want to call her?”

Lucy sighed and looked up then. “I don’t know her number. I smashed my iPad. My MacBook is at home..”

“You can buy a new phone? I can give you leave early..” Not quite the right English wording, but she was trying.

“Security says a fan found my phone and they’ll give it to me tomorrow at the game.” She had thought about buying a new phone, she really didn’t care about the money, however she though it would be better to wait until game day tomorrow rather than waiting for her phone company to activate a new sim.

Alexia nodded, and Lucy gave her phone back.

“Alexia… thank you. For today, and yesterday, and for everything. Just… thank you. I appreciate it.”

“That’s okay, Lucia Roberta,” she said and cheekily nudged her shoulder with her own. This was the real Alexia. “We stick together, si?”

“We do.. so enough about me. Why do you seem even more grumpy today than you were yesterday?”

Alexia was in her vulnerable, non-Captain state, but still paused to think about how open she would be with the right back. Apparently she needed to vent to someone, and Lucy had chosen the right moment. “I… dream about her.”

“Bad dream?”

“No.. good dream. But then it’s a…bad dream.”

“Ah.” Lucy understood her hesitation now. Her best guess? A sex dream which potentially ended with her leaving for months on end. Lucy usually teased people, it was her thing, but she knew it was the wrong time, especially when Alexia finally seemed to be opening up to her after knowing her for a few years. “And going to the bar tonight would be a bad idea..”

Alexia nodded as if she’d already had the same thought. No point stirring that beehive before the game. “Today… was good.” She looked at Lucy; thoughtful hazel eyes meeting empathetic green ones.

“I needed today.” Lucy agreed.

When Lucy arrived home, her attention first went to greeting Narla, followed closely by her opening up her MacBook to multiple messages, emails, notifications. She found the one she wanted; a message from YFN that morning. She must have sent it just after Lucy had closed her laptop.

YFN: I’m sorry for taking so long.. I’m really not used to this, Luce. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a few beats. She couldn’t stop thinking about her. Was that why she wore her hoodie? And she was sorry, after seeing all of those photos?! She took a deep breath to control herself. She couldn’t start a conversation over text, she didn’t want to risk any miscommunication. Lucy wanted to do everything right by her little Australian from now on.

Lucy: Sorry, little one. Just got home from training. Lost my phone yesterday.

YFN replied almost immediately and she wondered where she was and what she was doing.

YFN: How are you texting me..?

Lucy: MacBook.

YFN: I was starting to worry.. can we talk?

She was worrying? Lucy guaranteed YFN hadn’t been as worried as she had been all day. The past few days. Okay.. since she’d last seen YFN. She worded her next text carefully.

Lucy: We need to talk, but not over text. I’m not a good texter. Security said a fan found my phone so I’ll get it tomorrow at the game and call you after it, okay?

There was a pause for a minute or so before she replied.

YFN: Okay Luce.

Okay! Good. She wanted to talk. Lucy worked out the time.. her game started at 3pm London time, it would finish at 5pm, and she could escape early by 5:30pm if she asked Alexia.

Lucy: I’ll call you about five-thirty your time. Will you be free?

Please be free.

YFN: Okay, I’ll be driving to Crawley then.

Crawley that late? She did the math in her head. She’d be in Crawley very late at night. She was worried.

Lucy: You’ll be staying in the London apartment overnight, I hope?

Another pause.

YFN: Is that still okay?

She was worried Lucy wouldn’t be okay with it? Her heart sank a little as she thought about YFN feeling like she shouldn’t use the keychain she’d given her. She would never regret that.

Lucy: I’d be upset if you didn’t. I meant it when I gave you that keychain.

YFN: I love it, Luce. How’s your hand?

Lucy let out a breath. Okay, she’s going to stay in London. She’ll be safe and have somewhere to sleep. Perfect. And worrying about her hand meant she’d also been following Lucy’s day online, but she didn’t want to stress her with the real story just yet.

Lucy: It’s okay. Stupid accident. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, okay?

YFN: Yes, please. Have a good game tomorrow, Luce.

Lucy would have given anything for her to be at that game tomorrow, or vice versa.

Match day. Lucy arrived early, again finding an excuse to not go with Ona. She knew she’d have to explain eventually, but that would be for later, when YFN was in Spain perhaps. She dropped her things off in the changing room, surprised she wasn’t the first there, and wandered until she found the security guard from yesterday. Disappointingly, he hadn’t seen the fan yet.. they hadn’t arrived. He had their phone number and texted them and they said they’d meet after the game, asking that they get to meet Lucy as repayment for finding her phone. With gritted teeth, she agreed. She did love her fans... the good ones… but she didn’t like being forced into situations like the one she was currently in.

Frustrated about her phone, she decided to take it out on the pitch rather than bottle it up. To be fair, she didn’t see how she could have stopped herself if she wanted to. She just felt so… angry. Annoyed. Needy. This unresolved matter putting more and more strain on this new relationship she had. One that, until she had left for Spain, had been absolutely perfect in every way.

The opposition eventually worked out not to pass down through right back as Lucy was being so fucking aggressive, though just before this, she’d managed to pass a perfect little lob assist to Salma for a goal. It was the most relaxed move she’d made all game. Most of her just wanted to launch the ball towards goal as hard as she could and break the fucking net.

Unfortunately for Sevilla, they also couldn’t go through the midfield either, because Alexia was on a mission. She’d gotten away with so many trips and late tackles that even Lucy was surprised.

Half time was a much needed break, and both Alexia and Lucy were pulled aside, away from the team. Jonatan didn’t ask what the problem was, his only concern was that they didn’t get red cards. Alexia and Lucy looked at each other as if they each thought each other was the bigger issue. Jonatan rolled his eyes at that, giving up his attempt to talk down the two most stubborn and independent women in the team.

After half time it took three minutes for Lucy to get her yellow card. The player marking her had been trying to shove back all game and Lucy was sick of the disrespect and hip and shouldered her over the boundary line for the ball. Unfortunately, she took the ball with her and Lucy knew she was lucky to get a yellow. Two minutes after that, and perhaps a little inspired by Lucy, Alexia received a yellow for a very late tackle of Sevilla’s best player in the midfield. Lucy heard her yelling at the girl to “Get up!” and couldn’t help but chuckle. It was so unlike Alexia.

The game ended in domination 7-0 to Barca, though Lucy watched the final whistle blow from the bench as she’d been subbed off not too long after her yellow. She hated being subbed off or not playing but in this instance, she understood.

After the game, she immediately found the security guard again and he led her to the boundary where the fans with her phone were apparently sitting. She had to step on an esky to reach them, however. The security guard pointed at three girls then, and Lucy froze as she stared at the ‘fans’ directly in front of her.

Her body locked with her jaw, as she stopped her immediate reaction, which would have been to drag her over the fence.

“Hey Lucy.” Kristie smiled brightly, as if it were their first-time meeting.

Lucy didn’t reply. She just stared at the woman who seemed early to mid 20s.

Kristie blushed. “I… I have your phone.”

So it was her she saw in the crowd the other day. Why the fuck was she in Spain? And wearing her Barca Bronze jersey? She wanted to rip it away from her. Lucy opened her mouth to speak but was cut off as Kristie leaned closer to her.

“Lucy.. we’re surrounded by fans right now who can hear everything you say.. so maybe just think about that, hm?” She gestured to the photographers watching them interact. “I know you’re great with fans, so we also don’t want a picture misinterpreted either.”

Then she gave a bright smile, and Lucy struggled to believe how manipulative she was. She still didn’t speak until Kristie took Lucy’s phone from her pocket and waved it in front of her. Lucy went to grab it but she pulled it back.

“What. Do. You want.” She asked through gritted teeth.

She leant closer to Lucy, resting her weight on the barrier between them and locking eyes with her. Blue, determined eyes.

“I want a date with you.”

Lucy scoffed.

“I’m being serious,” she said with an innocent expression. “I know you, Luce-”

“Don’t call me that.” She said harshly and flinched as she saw that someone close by had heard her snapping.

“I do, though. I know you. Better than her… maybe even better than yourself. I think we could have a great time getting to know each other.”

Lucy didn’t speak. Did she really think she would accept that?

“Look, Lucy, I know things haven’t gone well between us lately..”

Was she kidding? Lucy didn’t even know the woman.

“…but I think everything had been misinterpreted and just blown up too much. I’m sorry about my friends.. they know I like you and they’ve been the ones sending the photos and with the window incident…” She gave a sheepish look that make Lucy feel sick. The manipulation. Anyone listening could have actually believed her. And Lucy didn’t for one second believe that all of it wasn’t her doing. “So I want to apologise for them. They went way too far, so I’m here to say sorry to you.”

Lucy looked at her ‘friends’ either side of her and scoffed again. Why had they agreed to this?

“What you’ve done is unforgiveable. Give me my phone.”

“So you can text her?” She asked with audacity and jealousy.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Lucy, please! She doesn’t even know who you are. She doesn’t even like football. She’s just here to use you and drive your car and get work through you. That’s it. I’m really sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but that’s all she wants from you, and I can’t stand by and watch her abuse you like that. I care about you too much.”

Lucy took a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Think about how you met her.. I mean.. I bet if you take a moment to think about it, it’ll be suspicious as hell. She’s purposely wormed her way in and used you. I’d never do that to you, Luce..” Lucy flinched. “Like I said… I know you. You care a lot, especially about your family. You work hard. You love to have fun and tease. And… I wouldn’t do what she’s done. I wouldn’t shut you out because someone sent me photos of you with a friend.”

Lucy’s gaze shot up and met hers. She pulled back slightly, realising what she’d just admitted. So the photos of Lucy and Ona had been from her. Of course they had.

“I was doing it for you.. to show you that she doesn’t know you and doesn’t deserve you, Lucy. I know you’d never cheat.”

Lucy stared blankly, almost conflicted.

“So go on a date with me tonight… and I’ll give your phone back at the end. Who knows, you might be surprised at just how well we get on. I can be pretty entertaining.” She flashed her smile again, and if Lucy was being honest with herself, it was pretty.

So that was the crux of it all. A date for her phone. She looked at the time showing on the screen. Five twenty-eight pm. She realised then that she would miss her phone call with YFN.

“She can go another night without hearing from you.” Kristie cooed, as if reading her thoughts and wiggled her phone in front of her. “It’s your choice.”

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #alexia putellas #fc barcelona #fc barca #culers #woso x reader #barcelona femeni

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fuxuannie · 1 year

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↳ pairing(s) : various hsr men x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : "I know that I'd be lying if I didn't want you here" - LDR by Shoti ♡ (stream btw)

↳ authors note : ITS MY BIRTHDAYY WOOHOOOOOO i cant pull an i'm 14 card anymore <\3 (ill keep doing it with 15) i dont know why i chose this specific prompt as a birthday post but um.. yipee?

☆☆ YOU'RE ALWAYS ON MY MIND, THATS HOW MUCH I CARE

DAN HENG sighs as he lays in bed, his arm covering his eyes as his mind is clouded with thoughts of only one person. He lifts his right arm up slightly to check his phone in his other hand, a photo of you and him as the lock screen while a soft smile appears onto his features.

Whenever he missed you, which was often, he found himself listening to various of your voice notes and scrolling through the hundreds of photos you two would take together in the rare occasions that he'd visit the Space Station. "Let's make as many memories as possible, okay?" He remembers you always saying, holding his hand and giving him that oh so adorable smile he can't help but adore.

☆☆ I CANT THINK OF A TIME THAT YOU WEREN'T THERE

Ever since you left, JING YUAN's longing for your presence worsened everyday, the ache in his heart as he no longer woke up to see you during his morning stroll would bring his mood down tremendously. You were apart of his every day life, during his mornings, during his afternoons and if he was lucky enough you'd be there at night too. So his minds gone mad wondering for your safety and the day you'd return, if that would ever happen.

He has so much to say and to do, but as you told him, he'll wait for the right time. When you and him are ready, ready to call you his and him as yours.

☆☆ I KNOW THAT I'D BE LYING IF I DIDN'T WANT YOU HERE

GEPARD handled the distance between you a little.. differently, to say the least. Lying to himself that he didn't miss you wasn't exactly working the way he wanted it to. "I dont miss them." He says, as he buys your favorite drink to get that feeling of you being around. "I don't miss them." He'll say, holding onto your jacket at night as it still somehow smelled like you. So many things he'd do conciously or subconciously just because he couldn't handle a life without you.

☆☆ CAUSE BABY, IM INLOVE AND WHY CANT YOU JUST LIVE NEAR?

CAELUS smiles as he sees your excitement over the phone, the 3 hour mark on your videocall just passed and you were talking about the latest discovery you made on your research. "Don't you miss it?" He'll ask, watching your expression change to a bit of confusion as you blinked. "Miss what?"

"Y'know, being with me?"

He sees how you chuckle in disbelief and shake your head, "Of course I do." you answered softly. "But.. I can see you love what you do, right? I want you to be happy. And I can settle for this."

There's an ache to his heart, he dramatically clutched his chest and groaned. Earning a giggle from you on the other end, and that ache disappears at the mere sound of your laughter. "But.. I love you too, shouldn't that mean you should be right here in my arms?"

You playfully scoff. "Corny."

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #jing yuan x reader #dan heng hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #caelus x reader #caelus hsr x reader

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fortunekookie07 · 10 days

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Before you start reading this one, I'd just like you to know that Chryssikyu is 100% responsible for this one. All it took was one thought and I had to write something. Also I'm not capable of writing smut, it's beyond my capabilities. This is as far as I can go. So sorry. Without further ado I present to you

Call Me

You huff looking down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Rafayel has once again ignored your phone calls. Answered text messages? Keep dreaming!

This is the same man who got super pissy and dramatic when you didn't answer his call right away. It was always something like, "I guess I'm not important enough for you to take my calls." Or something of the like. Yet somehow, you managed to find his dramatic pouty self adorable.

Today, though? Not so much, you were sorely tempted to let a cat lose in his studio for not taking your calls all afternoon. He'd know it was you, though. You were the only one he'd admitted to of his extreme dislike (read fear) of the furry creature. Revenge would be had. Thus, you just didn't have the heart.

After another hour and still no response, you decided to pay him a visit. So you take the twenty minute trip over to his private art studio/home.

Walking up the path, you see nothing out of the ordinary, the same plants and pathway as always. Just as you reach the door, you hear music. You pause, Rafayel certainly liked music. He'd recommend some artists to you before. It's just that he'd never played any in his studio before. It was usually quiet. That was how he preferred it.

Hesitantly, you turn the knob slowly and carefully so as not to make a sound. Thank god Rafayel had regular maintenance done on his doors. They never squeaked or creaked. He detested that sound.

You remove your shoes and leave them in the doorway. Something just telling you not to make any sounds. Carefully searching the downstairs studio reveals that he's not here, but the further you venture in the louder, the music is.

You realize you hear two voices, one coming from a female and the other, definitely male. You freeze, oh my god, is Rafayel singing?!? The male voice is amazing. You've never heard anything like it, so you keep going almost as if his voice is luring you in.

At the top of the stairs, the living room is situated, a wide space. Rafayel had personally designed the room, and it reflected him greatly. The huge wall to the back was his own painting of the sea. One of his greatest works. Sadly, not many would ever see it. He rarely had company over, and even fewer of them were invited up to his living quarters upstairs. You were one of two people to be given that privilege.

This wasn't the most amazing thing, though. There, in front of the large sofa, was Rafayel singing and dancing using his paintbrush as a microphone. He was completely oblivious to your presence.

You quickly took out your phone and snapped a few photos before recording. The song ended then, and he turned around, seeing you holding your phone and trying not to laugh.

His ears instantly went red as a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. "How long have you been standing there? It's rude not to announce your presence." He partially covered his face, his eyes darting away. Then he saw that you were holding your phone camera pointed at him. "Are, are you recoding me?!?!?" He asked Incredulously his blush, deepening as he made to grab your phone.

"Delete it!" He swiped for the sleek device, but you managed to dodge his frantic hands. "Nope! This is all mine now. " You wagged the phone in his face before stuffing it down your shirt. Rafayel would never be so bold to get it now. You poked his cheeks, and he swiped at you again.

"Do that again, and I'll spit bubbles at you." He said, rubbing his face and trying to hide his red face. "What have you been doing? I've been trying to call you all day." You put your hands on your hips and raise a brow.

"I was trying to get inspiration and then decided to listen to some music. You know the rest." He crossed his arms and turned away from you in a humph motion. Still embaressed at having been caught.

When you asked what song and he gave the title, you frowned. "That song is like twenty years old. Why are you listening to that?" You'd heard the song before, just not in a long time. "It came in the station I was listening to." He defended.

"Next time, don't ignore my calls. Did you forget you wanted me to go with you to buy supplies for your painting?" Rafayel's face brightened, and his eyes were almost twinkling. You thought you had him until realization hit him.

"Hand over your phone first. You took pictures. If they aren't perfect, I'll delete them." He held his hand out expectantly.

"Nope! These are all mine." You grinned at the pout on his face, certain he would not venture to get it. You were about to find out how wrong you were

He reached towards you going for your shirt. Swatting his hands away, you "No touchy!" He only grinned in response. "Oh, I'm going to touch alright." The wicked glint in his eyes sent your heart racing. "Rafayel!" You say in warning backing up. The only escape is the stairs behind you.

You turn to dash down them to another room below. We'll that was your intention anyways. Right behind you is that blue fish. You stop short. That was all the time he needed. His arms snake around, you pulling you into his firm chest and holding you tight.

One of his hands plays with the bottom of your shirt, his fingers tapping your bare stomach underneath. His head burries into your shoulder, and he whispers your name against the bare skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A groan escapes your lips.

"I've got you now." He says, and you feel his grin before he is kissing your neck and making you squirm. You through your head back and sigh, leaving your mouth at his attention. His fingers are drawing patterns lightly on your stomach, and shivers shoot down your spine.

"This will end if you give me the phone." His voice is low and husky against your neck. "No-o." Your rebuttal is more of a moan at this point. Your brain is hazy as Rafayel starts on your buttons. The first one comes open with a pop, and his fingers are quick to trace more patterns on your stomach.

"Are you going to give me your phone?" He asks, nibbling on your ear. "Ahhhn," is all you manage to get out. The second button is popped, his fingers part your shirt, and the cool air makes you shiver against his heat. "How about now?" You manage to shake your head. The third button is undone. His fingers are just below your bra now. "Rafa...!" Your voice is breathless as he takes the last three buttons in one go.

His seeking fingers quickly pull your shirt open, exposing your chest and the stashed phone. "I'm taking it now." His voice is low and husky as he nips your ear again. His hands slide up your sides slowly. He's definitely teasing you now.

With your mind in a daze, you try to grab your phone, but his nimble fingers are faster. He grabs your wrist and then laces your fingers together. He kisses each of your fingers and the back of your hand before turning your head towards him and pinning you with a piercing stare.

Rafayel's blue-pink eyes are so heated and deep, you're about to fall in. Like you are looking at a quietly raging sea. He slowly leans in, dragging the moment out, and you let out an impatient whine. With your free hand, you wrap it around the back of his neck and draw him in closer. He brings your joined hands down lower, wrapping them around your waist and drawing you closer back. And then finally, finally, his lips press against yours.

You're so lost in his kiss that you don't even notice him delicately drawing your phone out of its hiding place in your bra and slipping it into his pants pocket. He lets go of your arm and then turns you around before hooking his hands around your knees and hoisting you up to his height. Your legs go around his waist, and then he's kissing you again as he walks to his bedroom.

****************************************************

As you lay in the bed with only a thin sheet covering you and Rafayel's arm for a pillow, you finally remember what started all this. "My phone! Rafayel, where is my phone?" He hums not fully paying attention. Just laying beside you with his eyes closed. You pink his arm as you sit up. "You stole my phone!" You can't even be mad at him. You fell for his distraction.

Sitting up, you look around the room for clothes. Spying his black pants, you leap off the bed and dash over to it. Sure enough, your phone is in his pocket. As fast as you can, you email a copy of the video you took and the pictures to yourself before looking at him triumphantly.

He's just sitting up resting an elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his hand, watching you. "Do you want a picture of me so badly?" He asks in a provoking tone. Deciding that you've had enough of his games, you walk over and grab his face with both hands. "I prefer the real thing." You say stealing a kiss before slipping away again.

"I've got to go now, I have a mission. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't forget to call me this time!" You hurriedly dress yourself and turn to leave the bedroom before he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back. "Come straight here when you're done." He says a serious look in his eyes. "I miss you when you're gone." You turn and hug him. "I'm just a phone call away." You kiss him again and then head out the door.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fic #@chryssikyu

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cowgurrrl · 23 days

Text

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good.

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session.

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles.

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it.

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..."

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy."

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it.

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you.

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there.

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint.

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older.

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike."

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together."

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought.

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel."

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious."

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans.

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then."

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs.

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it.

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints.

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting."

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk.

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face.

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey."

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh.

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes.

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail.

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push.

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?"

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight.

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

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myobmaya · 2 years

Text

Reading Glasses

Description: Rainy days and Steve Harrington. You love your boyfriend but your boyfriend in glasses? Enough said.

Who: Steve Harrington x AFAB! Reader

Warning: Smut, fluff, feelings (?), breeding kink. hand job. P in V sex. Cursing. Did I mention Steve is wearing glasses bc got damn

Lyrics in photo: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

—————-

It started raining last night. An overcast head that turned into a light drizzle. You remember falling asleep to the sound of the rain just outside and Steve’s heartbeat just below your ear as you laid on his bare chest.

Now waking up to the soft tumbling rain drops against the window you feel content that it wasn’t the bright sunny morning waking you up for a change. You didn’t have to turn to know Steve was already up for the day. He was the early riser. Taking on a manager role and having to be the one to get the day started you grew accustomed to the empty side of the bed in the mornings.

Yet, it still didn’t ever fill the ever needing void of you wanting to wake up with him beside you and in you.

Trailing out of bed you automatically picked up his shirt from last night and covered your body with it. Undergarments weren’t necessarily as you opted out of them heading straight to the bathroom to brush your teeth. As if the slight limp in your walk wasn’t enough, the marks on your neck were a clear reminder of the long night you had with Steve. You didn’t mind as you pulled the shirt down far enough to see his love assault continued down to your chest. Looks like you’ll be wearing turtle necks to work again this week.

Steve sat in the living room at his desk that was pushed against the corner of the wall. The morning sun didn’t give him much to work with so the small lamp that set upon the desk was in use. It gave him just enough light to see his work in the darkened room. He studied the numbers in front of him as you finished waking up in the bedroom. Since his promotion he prided himself in having work ready the Sunday before his weekly shift began. For once in his career life he felt like he was right where he needed to be and he wanted to keep that feeling for as long as it could be held.

His fingers worked along the paper before flipping a page to make sure things were adding up correctly. Unfortunately for him, they weren’t. Taking the lenses that rested in his nose, Steve took them off to run a frustrated hand through his hair before setting them back on his face. As Steve aged, his sight did as well and a couple years after graduating high school he found himself with glasses.

The man didn’t wear them when he didn’t have too. In fact he only wore them when he was home and doing his reports. It’s not like he needed it when he was on the floor at work sealing new deals, nor did he need them to drive. He never did his end of week reports at the office so he found it more sensible to keep them at his home desk where he knew he could always find them in the same spot every time.

You stood by the doorway just in time to catch him taking what would be his final “look through” from his work. A smile instantly on your face and butterflies erupting in your stomach seeing Steve. He always looked so handsome.

You knew about the rare occasions that he wore them. Something about the way it made him look so domesticated. So soft. How it added something more to him. You openly stated to him how you wished he’d wear them more on more than one occasion that would just lead him to laugh it off.

A few moments passed by and you watched as his eyebrows furrowed before Steve closed the binder pushing it away. An aggravated sigh left him as his hands ran up his face and under his glasses before settling down. He let out a yawn and leaned back with arms outstretched. He looked around the room, doing a double take seeing you.

Happiness replaced his annoyance as he swiveled his chair to face you, keeping his arms open. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he lifted his hand towards you, inviting you over. On que he took a hand into yours and guided you to sit on his lap. Your legs sat behind the back of the chair as he leaned back gazing at you causing a faint shade of red to paint your cheeks. It didn’t matter how long you’ve been together he always managed to make you feel so loved and beautiful by a simple look.

“Sleep okay, sleepyhead?”

“Would have been better to have woken up with you beside me, boss man” You grinned leaning in to give him a quick kiss. Steve sighed nodding in agreement. His eyes glanced over to the paperwork on his desk and you could see the aggravation behind his eyes. You shrugged letting him know you knew what he was doing the whole time you slept in.

“Did you at least get everything figured out? The sales matched up correctly?” Steve hummed out a small reply as you smoothed his hair back. You knew his mannerisms well enough to know he wouldn’t stop going over his work until he felt it was correct.

“You work too hard.”

Steve only shrugged as he looked up at you. A ghost of a smile on his face as he took in the hickies on your neck knowing he left a trail that was hidden under the shirt. You worked to fix the part in his hair back in place. He looked down at your bare legs and could see where he sucked a few hickies on your thighs making his mind remember the noises he got out of you.

You graze your fingertips across his forehead sweeping the hair out of his eyes. He doesn’t say a word as you trail them down his face and right over the side of his glasses until they’re resting on the back of his head. Giving him a few light scratches that cause a smile to grace his face.

You didn’t pay too much attention to the way his fingers began to run up and your thighs. One of Steve’s love languages was touch so it was almost second nature for you to constantly feel him. Steve stared down at your legs aimlessly tracing the marks he left, “I work to provide a future for you. For me. For our family”

The family talk was one you and Steve have had. You knew he wanted children so the topic wasn’t a stranger to you. Still, every time he brought it up it was always a reminder to you that you both were growing older and the time would be getting closer. You took the opportunity seeing his focus still on your lap kissed his forehead. “Family you say?“

Steve’s eyes were now focused on where his shirt ended on your upper thigh. He had his suspicions you weren’t wearing panties but when he casually flipped the material up and saw your bare mane his question was answered. The intention to have a repeat of the night prior wasn’t initially there. Yet, Steve could never get enough of you.

“Yeah I want nothing more than to come home,” he looked up at you and kissed you lightly. “See you with a swollen bump,” his nose trailed down to your neck and peppered kisses down it. “Knowing everyone that sees you,” he made his way to your ear and his tongue took the lobe into his mouth. “Knows it’s was me,” he released it and turned your head over so he could suck on the back of your ear. “That filled you up.”

You both know where this is heading and you happily continue it on as he grows confident in his assault across your neck. You grip his sweater in your hands and take it off of him meeting your cold hands with his warm chest.

“I think you did enough of that last night, Mr. Harrington,” you bite your lip leaning forward and placing a kiss on his chest. His hands move from the back of your waist to your hips as he adjusts himself below you. His legs spread wider causing you to feel the effect you have on him against your bare core as you tighten your hold on him.

“Mhmmm,” Steve groaned out. “I think filling you up with my cum one more time will really get my point a across.”

Your hands find the waistband of his sweats and grip him. He feels you smile against his collarbone when he lets out a groan. His grip tightens and you’re sure a bruise will be there by morning but you don’t care. Your thumb sweeps over his tip and you pull him out of pants. Steve breathes heavily as you look up at him through your lashes keeping him in your hand.

Your eyes never leave as you give him a smile. Steve swears you could be a glimpse into Heaven from the way his desk light shines from behind you giving you an innocent shadow despite the sinful things you’re about to him. Gathering saliva from your mouth you keep eye contact as you spit on his cock. Steve’s eyes scrunch up and his head rolls back as you pump him gathering your spit to spread across his hard on.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve moans out. He runs a hand through already messy hair pulling on the ends as he watches your hand on him. Your thumb runs across the dribble of precum leaking down his tip, slicking him up. After a few more pumps you lift your hips and run the head of his cock up and down your slit making him feel how wet you are

Keeping the base of his cock steady you fill yourself up with him and settle back down hearing Steve let out a stream of curses. “Feel s’good,” he mumbles out lifting the shirt up to your hips to see you taking him fully. You stay like that for a few moments knowing just how much he loves to see you stuffed full of him.

“I want you to put a baby in me, Steve,” you give him a longing kiss making sure to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip. You move your hips forward and Steve gives you a whiney moan. His hands guide you up and you’re back down on him setting a pace that makes you both cry at the pleasure.

He takes the shirt off your body and throws it across the room. Something falls in the distance but neither of you care to give any attention to it the moment his mouth is on your chest. You grind yourself down on him relieving some pressure your clit was aching for. His tongue circles around your nipple. He sucks on it then releases it with a blow of his mouth causing yo hot let out a delicious moan.

Steve hears the hiccup of your breath and the way your stomach starts to contort in the way that lets him know you’re close. He sucks his fingers in his mouth getting them nice and wet and places them right beneath where you meet.

“Fuck,” you stutter out as his finger moves your clit. Steve groans feeling himself about to lose it just watching the way you fuck yourself down on him.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Milk this cock. It’s all for you.”

He encourages you taking your nipple back in his mouth nodding his head. You close your eyes feeling your body catch up to all the sensations overtaking you.

Steve keeps his hand on your core and takes his other hand to smack your ass. Your fingertips dig into his shoulder and leaving angry red crescent marks. You don’t care. Steve doesn’t care. All that he wants is for you to come all over him.

“I need you to come, sweetheart,” Steve is practically begging now. “Cream this fucking cock so I can cum in you.” Steve watches as your jaw goes slack and your head tosses back. You don’t get a chance to lose your pace because Steve’s hands are right there to continue it so your pleasure can hit you full force. “Let me come inside that pretty pussy.” The coil in your stomach snaps and you’re crying out as he helps you ride through your orgasm.

Watching you in such a beautiful messy state Steve feels himself contract and as you’re coming down from your high he’s reaching his. You feel him paint your walls white and take the opportunity to help him ride our his finish.

“Fuck, honey,” Steve whimpers out as he fights to catch his breath. You both let out one final moan as you grind down on him one last time and crash against his chest. His arms wrap around you as you feel the sweat of him against your cheek but you don’t care.

He stays inside of you as he lazily traces circles on your back as you both come down to earth. Your eyes search the room and fall on some newspapers scattered on the floor. A giggle leaves you and Steve lets out a hiss feeling you tighten around him. It causes you to laugh harder and he’s laughing now knowing you know what you’re doing.

“You threw my shirt like a baseball,” you tease him nudging towards the papers on the floor. Steve kisses the top of your head and rolls his eyes.

“Wasn’t a problem when I had-“

You raise your head and smack his chest preventing him from finishing that sentence. He’s laughing again and so are you. After a few moment the laughter stops and all that’s heard is the gloomy weather outside. Steve quietly says your name and you look at him. He has a guilty look on his face and before you can even question him he gives you a sad smile.

“I’ll do better.” You give him a confused look but he just kisses you. “I want to wake up with you. I’m sorry I don’t. I’ll work on it, sweetheart. I promise.”

You only nod and give him a hopeful smile knowing that Steve Harrington is a man of his word. Wordlessly, you gently take the glasses from his eyes and set them on his desk. Happiness spreads throughout your chest seeing his bare eyes. You loved him in glasses, but his bare face was always a win. He presses your head against his neck as you watch the rain continue it’s mark on the windows. Before you know it your eyes are heavy and you fall asleep there with him still inside of you.

When you wake up again a few hours later you’re in your bed. Marks are on your body. The phantom feeling of your lover is still inside of you. And the rain is still falling. It’s almost as if it’s deja vu. Except this time, the other side of the bed is filled and Steve Harrington is sound asleep beside you.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington x y/n smut #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble

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bykshre · 8 months

Text

STILL WITH YOU ll JJK - 001

CHAPTER 001 ll 2.05K words (song - I Feel It Coming, The Weeknd)

Pairing - CEO Jungkook x Head Of Department Y/N

Synopsis - 7 years ago, you and jungkook broke up after a long-term relationship in high school and college. Never have you ever thought that one day, you would reunite with your ex-lover or the guy you once believed was the love of your life. What does fate hold for the both of you?

Genre/tropes - exes to lovers, angst, slow burn, grumpyxsunshine, a second chance.

Rating - M

Warnings- panic attacks, crying, flirty prologue, alcohol, break up mentions, insomnia. All are mild mentions. Not too severe.

Masterpost | Next

prologue

21st August

I had no classes today, and Y/N did. I took the opportunity to decorate the living room with balloons and many of our pictures together. And when I say many, I mean all of them. Be it selfies, cuddle pictures, date pictures or the randomest pictures Y/N and I took of each other in weird situations. I managed to include every single one of them. I live and breathe to see her happy. She matters a lot to me.

After pouring my heart into the house adornments, I plopped myself on the couch and reflected on the pictures I hung on the walls. One of the pictures caught my attention, the first picture Y/N and I took on our date. We were so young and full of love. Nothing changed anyway.

I permanently kept that picture of us in my wallet. It was so special to me. Our very first date. A cliche photo booth picture. It was so unadorned, but it was unforgettable at the same time. Who wouldn't want to relive that?

.......

4.20 p.m.

I stood in front of our apartment door. Holding a bouquet of roses in my hands.

Shock was graced on Y/Ns face. She looked so happy. I could even see tears welling up in her eyes. Y/N was never a fussy lady or a spoilt brat. She was simple. She never sought for extravagance. She loved the most diminutive things I did. That's what I cherished about her - her unwavering simplicity. She's a gem, rare to find.

"I love you!" I saw Y/N running towards me and hugging me. Lone gone was the flower bouquet. Our kisses and giggles filled the room's ambience. "Happy 5th Anniversary, love." She peppered tender kisses onto my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Y/Niee, that's enough of the kisses. I chucked. "Y/N, how about we start getting ready? We have a date tonight. Plus, I bought a dress for you, which I think you'll adore. You'll be looking like a diva in it." Y/N frowned for a moment. I giggled at her state. She gets upset often when I spoil her with luxurious items. "Just for tonight, love, you deserve it today." I leaned into her and gave her a tender yet aggressive kiss on her ravishingly tempting reddish lips.

......

"What do you think?" Y/N said while leaning on the kitchen counter. I scanned her from head to toe. She looked gorgeous in that red dress accompanied by the long slit at her legs. The crimson fabric drapes softly over her form, embracing her contours with a tailored precision that accentuates her every curve. The richness of the red hue not only complements her skin's natural glow but also exudes an air of confidence and charisma. She looked like a goddess.

"I could have you as main course, mi amour," I said in a flirty tone. She blushed. I saw her cheeks turning crimson red. I love how only I could make her a blushing mess. She was always mine.

"Jungkook!!" She said in a flustered manner. "We're getting late!"

"Don't say that love. I know you enjoyed it." I winked at her. She was a blushing mess.

"Love, you are looking like a Greek god yourself! You are so handsome!" She said while checking me out, not giving an absolute fuck that I noticed she was drooling over my attire and looks tonight. "Your tux perfectly addresses your body shape." She said while pulling me into a hungry, aggressive kiss. Glad to know we're on the same page.

"Are you ready? Let's go." We interlocked our hands, creating a connection that felt unbreakable. "Ready!" I chuckled at her behaviour. She's carefree and happy. She drives me insane but in the most enchanting manner.

"You better be love. We have the whole night awaiting. You'll see stars tonight." I winked again, igniting a spark of intimacy between us.

We laughed, savouring each moment of the day. That's something I treasured about our relationship. We love hard.

"Love you". "I love you too".

Present

JK pov.

"I love you, Y/N, I always will. That's a promise I'll never leave you. Ever."

"I love you too, Jungkook. You will forever be the love of my life. Nothing will be able to make us apart."

One. Two. Three. My eyes opened. I felt a salty bead of water slipping from my eyes. Trailing down my cheeks. I was crying. Again. At this point, it had just become a routine for me. Ever since that day, I have never been able to sleep properly. And even if I would, it was because of the help of alcohol. I miss her and crave her touch. But what she has done has created a massive hatred for her. All those promises and words were false.

I opened my phone to check the time. It was 4.32 a.m. I definitely won't be able to sleep after this. But I needed it desperately. After mulling for a few minutes, I opened my Spotify playlist and clicked 'play' on a playlist she made for us. It was titled "Midnight Love". It would always help me to calm down. These are the traces of items she left with me. And I would never let them go.

♫ You don't need a lonely night

So, baby, I can make it right

You just got to let me try

To give you what you want. ♫

I mentally laughed at the lyrics. Remembering the sight of us back in the day. Sure, we were very horny. But we did have a fair share of emotional rollercoasters. The most important part was that we were there for each other. I do wonder how she's doing. Without me...

Is there someone who can actually love her? Before I could react or think anything else. My eyelids fell heavy with the weight of drowsiness. I eventually drifted off to sleep, welcoming a set of dreams.

"Y/N, you drive me insane."

Y/N pov.

4.32 a.m.

I laughed. Danced. Sang my heart out to "I Feel It Coming". Jimin and I decided to host a party at our apartment with our close friends, Taehyung, Mina and Namjoon. I was absolutely drunk. A mess, broken mess. All thanks to alcohol. We couldn't give an absolute fuck that we had work tomorrow. Emotions were uprising. We were immersed in our feelings. I rarely consented to these parties and would usually be sleeping or watching Netflix. Despite that, a part of my heart said, "Y/N, you deserve this fun, be yourself, express your emotions."

♫ You've been scared of love

And what it did to you

You don't have to run

I know what you've been through

Just a simple touch

And it can set you free

We don't have to rush

When you're alone with me ♫

Although I was super drunk and giggling the whole time, a tiny part of my heart clenched at the lyrics. It held some truth to it. I kinda miss him. No, I miss him... a lot. Whatever. The past is the past. I must move on.

"Hey! Y/N, let's dance, just us," Jimin asked. Everyone else had already left. I was so submerged in my feelings I didn't notice it. Busy reminiscing the beautiful past. "Oh yeah, Jiminiee sureee. Would your girlfriend slash whatever be fine with that?" I said while giggling because I knew that Jimin wasn't the guy who pursued relationships. Whatever interactions he had with women were just to please his sexual desires. Nothing else.

Jimin took me into his arms while I slid my hands around his waist.

The song playing at the back had turned into a faint sound playing at the back. I couldn't hear anything anymore.

♫ You've been scared of love

And what it did to you

You don't have to run

I know what you've been through♫

Oh no... my emotions are controlling me.

The alcohol is starting to get to me. I couldn't hold it back. Jimin noticed me acting weird. My head spun. I couldn't maintain my balance anymore. Jimin's grip on me tightened. I sank my head into his chest. There was it. I started crying. I rarely had meltdowns. But if something triggered them, I would easily have a breakdown. I started blabbing.

"Jiminie, do you know how much I miss him? I would run back to him in seconds? I would cuddle him at night to comfort him and keep his insomnia away? I still remember him vividly." I said shakily. "I wish I could have changed what happened that day. But I couldn't. I wish all of those things were fake. Apparently, it isn't. I should hate him. But my heart never brought me to that feeling. What is wrong with me?"

My breathing became shallow. I knew I would pass out soon.

"Y/N, Are you there with me?" I definitely passed out by the looks of it.

I could feel my back pressed on a soft, comfy mattress. The duvet, a cocoon of warmth and solace, draped over me like a protective shield, its weight a soothing embrace that banished the remnants of weariness. Jimin must have carried me to my room. He placed a glass of water, a bucket, and a strip of pills on my bedstand for tomorrow. "Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.

I mumbled, "Jungkookie, I love you." I went to my dreamland.

Jimin laughed at that. He knew how you still miss him. He whispered to himself. "Your Jungkookie must be missing you too, Y/Nie."

"Just hang in there."

The universe has a silly way of reminding you of certain people. Two ex-lovers were reminded of the same memory. Was it a coincidence or fate?

Taglist : @lovingkoalaface @jk97bam @slapmy4head @vinuhsha

Thank you lovely people ❤️

This is only a beginning chap so it will take time to develop the characters and don't worry yn and jungkook will meet... Soon.

Till then. #Stillwithyoubykshre

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #bts smut #bts ff #jeon jungkook au #jungkook x reader #reader x jeon jungkook #Jungkook jeon #Bts army #Second chance #Exes to lovers #Exes #Lovers #Jungkook au #Still with you jungkook #Still with you #Still with you bykshre

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archiveikemen · 9 months

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'Doting Love Holic' Collection Event

William Rex

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

thank you @otomefiend for providing the story because i couldn't get it in time 🤭

// I'm having some problems with attaching photos, so I'll add them later. //

Roger: That’s unfortunate, the young lady lost.

Kate: Ugh…

Alfons: You need more practice with poker, Kate.

I sighed in exasperation with poker cards in hand.

Roger and Alfons invited me to play poker with them after dinner, and I lost three rounds consecutively.

Kate: I’m just unlucky… next time I’ll…

Alfons: Fufu, you don’t need luck for poker.

Alfons: Once you reach the point in the game where your win or loss is to be decided, as long as you have a strong enough attitude that makes your opponent feel hopeless, you’ll win.

William: What was the bet?

Kate: Will…!

I instinctively straightened my back when I heard the voice that would always make my body temperature rise, and saw my lover standing there dressed in a casual shirt.

Kate: … Did you bathe?

William: Yeah. … Fufu, this is a bad hand of cards.

William: At times like this, you must know whether it’s a win or loss.

Will rested his hand on my chair and looked over my shoulder at the cards in my hand.

Kate: …

The faint smell of Will’s skin tickled my nose, making my heart race.

(Will fresh out of the bath… not good for my heart.)

Roger: Unfortunately, we didn’t bet on anything.

William: Hmm, that’s rare. Playing a game without a prize.

A drop of water fell from the edge of Will’s silver hair onto his neck and trickled down onto his collarbone.

As if invited to, my gaze couldn't help but follow the droplet…

Alfons: That’s a very perverted gaze, Kate.

Kate: Huh?

William: Hm?

The moment my eyes met Will’s, the tips of my ears instantly turned hot.

(I- I…)

(W- Was it so obvious that even the people around me noticed…!?)

I was embarrassed to the core, hurriedly shaking my head in denial.

Kate: Absolutely not, I certainly did not have such a look in my eyes…!

Thanks to being led on by Alfons’, the strange excuse I blurted out made my face turn even redder and hotter.

William: Hmm? 😏

Will placed his hand on the backrest of my chair and narrowed his eyes cheekily.

William: I don’t mind you looking at me with an obscene gaze.

Kate: Huh…

William: Am I mistaken? That’s too bad.

My mind turned blank.

My face was getting hotter and hotter, but I couldn't say a word.

Will gazed lovingly at me as I was at a loss for words, and then smiled.

William: … Actually, I think that what my little robin needs to learn more is how to keep a poker face.

William: So that she won’t show this lovely facial expression on the outside.

Kate: Nn…?

When I snapped back to my senses, my lips were stolen in a kiss.

Before I could even feel surprised, his tongue slipped into my mouth and our tongues tangled together.

Alfons: My, my.

Roger: You’re showing off.

(Doing this in front of the two of them…)

I hurriedly tried to pull away, but my face was caught between two hands.

(Will…?)

Kate: Nn… mmph…

The forceful yet sweet enough to make me drown in pleasure kiss threw my emotions into disarray.

(Why is he doing this…)

(... Could it be—)

A few days ago, Will and I watched a play together.

In order to prevent his lover from attracting other men, one of the characters drowned her in endless love.

And it led to an intense and passionate scene.

At that moment, really, at only that very moment… I thought about what if Will did that to me—

That thought caused a sweet aching in my heart.

(Back then… did he notice…?)

Will’s eyes opened slightly, as if he had heard what was in my mind. And he smiled bewitchingly as our lips met again.

Kate: Nn… nn…

(This is so embarrassing, I’m going crazy.)

(Still…)

(... What should I do… I’m so happy.)

His sweet kiss and gaze gradually melted away all the rationality left in me.

Will eventually let go of me and slowly traced my lips with his thumb.

Kate: … Haa…

A sweet sigh escaped my lips, and my shame returned.

(Oh no, I… I got too absorbed in the kiss—)

My face was so hot that I couldn't bring myself to look up, I didn't want to see the looks on Alfons and Roger’s faces at all.

William: Pardon my interruption in the middle of your game.

William: While I’m interrupting, can I steal her away?

Alfons: … I have yet to reach the level of foolishness that I’d say no after witnessing such a loving gesture between the two of you.

Roger: I fold (surrender) too.

William: That’s wonderful. Let’s go, Kate.

…

Kate: Will…

William: … Hm?

I was full of lust for Will, even the people around me could see that.

My body melted and turned limp under his caresses.

Kate: That kiss just now… was it for my sake?

I asked in between ragged breaths, and Will remained silent like he was in no rush to answer.

He patted my head affectionately and slowly answered.

William: … That’s right. It was half to satisfy your desires.

(Half…)

(The ones kissing were Will and myself.)

(If it was half for me, then the other half is for—)

My heart ached with anticipation at the thought of getting something “special”.

Kate: And the other half…?

Will narrowed his eyes, seemingly having seen through my anticipation, and spoke slowly.

William: … You’re irresistibly attractive when you're absorbed in a game, and when your emotions change between being happy and upset.

William: That itself is could be a prize for a game.

Kate: Nn…

My head went numb when he teasingly traced his fingers across my body, testing the waters.

William: Therefore… I made a move in order to prevent them from being attracted to you.

William: Just keeping things in control a little.

(...)

It wasn't only to satisfy my desires.

The kiss also contained Will’s desires.

That was enough to suffocate me with happiness.

Kate: … I’m so happy, Will.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

Like a reward, Will touched my sensitive spot with his impatient fingers.

Kate: Ahh, Will…

William: … Mm, also

Wiliam: I loved the way you lusted over me.

William: I only wanted to kiss you.

His words were sweeter than honey.

He planted kisses on my cheek, temple, and ear.

My head was overflowing with so much happiness, it felt like I was drunk on it.

Kate: Will… I…

William: … Hm?

Kate: If it’ll make you kiss me like that…

Kate: I think it's fine even if I never learn how to maintain a poker face…

William: … (surprised)

William: … Pfft, ahaha!

I muttered while feeling lightheaded from the amount of bliss I felt, and Will burst into laughter…

William: I also love how you look when you're following your desires.

He once again pressed his shapely lips against mine in a deep kiss.

This time, the kiss was not meant for anyone else to see—

It was filled with an addictive love.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil collection event #william rex

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vxqyz · 4 months

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"To the Night we Wed." TrueformSukuna x inexperienced!fem!reader Heian era AU, 4.1k words

A/N: I've never written a fic before and I've never written anything professionally on tumblr... please forgive me if it's not formatted as you're used too! I have no photos to add or how to correctly break the paragraphs/storyline up. Also, there's a part where it goes into depth abt the wedding..! Don't mind it, I added it to make it seem more legit if you get what i mean. @sukunamylovexoxo thank you for listening to me complain while I wrote this :)!

Warning: smut in detail!! minors plz dni! hateful father, and strange language, just in case you don't like either of those!

You are a girl in the Heian era who recently came of age from an honored clan of powerful sorcerers. Unfortunately for you, your cursed energy is extremely low, however not low enough for you to have gained a heavenly pact. You are extremely useless to your clan, being born a woman already ruined your chances at making it far in life. Your father and the head of the clan, your grandfather, were known for marrying off the women if they were anywhere near as useless as you. On your 19th birthday, your wedding night, a monstrous man was sitting on the bed waiting for you.

It was a day like any other day, simply learning more calligraphy and practicing your handwriting. There wasn’t much more for you to do besides clean and look pretty. you knew everyone in your clan, besides your younger and older sisters, hated you. You were a disgrace to them. Your father came from a long line of powerful sorcerers with extremely high amounts of cursed energy, your mother was an average woman with an average amount of cursed energy from a neighboring clan. It was shocking how a single child could diminish a clan’s reputation.

you heard a knock on your thin door. “Excuse me, y/n, your father wishes to speak with you…” It was one of the housemaids. Your father was coming to you? Every morning you’d greet him and receive nothing back. What could be so important? “Please, come in.” you timidly responded, putting away your calligraphy equipment. The door slid open, and your father slowly entered your room. He made a disgusted face- as if looking at you was bad for his health. It hurt. “Hello, y/n.” He coldly greeted you. You understand you’re useless to him, but he could at least pretend he loved you. “I was talking to your grandfather about you and what to do with you. He suggested that we marry you off.” He paused. “I accepted the offer,” He mentioned with indifference. “You’re getting married in two weeks.” Married? In two weeks? You could feel your heart shatter. “Ah…” you quietly let out. “Who will I be wed to?” You were trying to keep a smile on your face. You think he knew it was a front. “His name is Ryomen Sukuna. I’m surprised. Out of all your sisters, he picked you.” He scoffed as he turned around. “I expect you to start working on your appearance. I wouldn’t want to marry a pig like you.” He left your room. This was the way your conversations would usually go, however rare they were. He couldn’t help but insult you. You were left alone with your thoughts as soon as he left your room. You turned eighteen last year. In two weeks, it would be your birthday. Your father didn’t know that, of course. Out of your five sisters and two brothers, it was hard to keep track of birth dates. But you knew he never bothered to remember yours.

–

Your daily routine usually consisted of waking up at 5:00 in the morning and getting out of bed to eat the breakfast your maid had prepared for you. This week was different. You woke up at 4:50 and noticed your breakfast wasn’t at your side. You were a little bit shocked, even when you woke up as early as 4:15, there would still be breakfast ready for you. You got up and decided it would be best not to think about it, after all, you have more important things to do. Your father was so sure that no one would want you as their bride, that he refused to allow the maids to teach you how to be a proper wife. He recently ordered about five of our maids to teach you the correct way to address your soon to be husband, wifely duties, and activities such as washing clothes and cleaning. This was something you weren’t looking forward to. you were previously refused such education since your father treated you like the plague. He had no intention of allowing you to touch anything that didn’t belong to you, believing you would take away his or your siblings' cursed energy. It was a ridiculous and irrational fear that made you realize you would always be hated by him.

As you were changing out of your sleeping attire, you heard your father’s footsteps walking towards your room. You hear a slight knock. “Please wait a moment!” You blurt out, and quickly return to changing into your daily dress, a simple kimono-esque outfit. “You may come in.” you reassure him. He slowly opens the door and stays about 15 feet away from you. “Ryomen Sukuna will be visiting you today.” He said in a professional way- an uncommon tone. “Be ready in three hours. I expect you to look the best you can.” He closed your door and walked away. Your future husband? Is he truly that eager to meet his wife-to-be?

–

It was half past seven, twenty minutes before Sukuna was supposed to meet you. Your maids had dressed you in a somewhat formal kimono, more flashy than your daily clothes, but less fancy than a ceremonial outfit. Your silky hair had been done into a lovely bun with unique flowers tied into it. You looked beautiful. You patiently sat on your knees waiting in the main room of your family’s home. The open space terrified you. Large pillars holding up the roof on each side of you, beautiful paintings on each wall and tatami mats below you. You felt nauseous. It’s probably because I'm anxious about meeting Sukuna. You rationalize with yourself. You let your thoughts run wild- what type of man could he be? A stoic man with a large frame? A diligent sorcerer focused on the wellbeing of his clan? Or maybe an old man simply moving from wife to wife? Your head was starting to hurt. All of this thinking only stressed you out.

Minutes pass, and your anxiety is increasing. You could feel yourself growing tired, this waiting has made you quite bored. As you’re slowly drifting to sleep, you hear the sound of a door opening- is he here? You quickly open your eyes and sit up straight. Your father rushed to greet him- blocking Sukuna from your view. However, you could see short pink hair, sleeves, and a spear. This was confusing. Who walks around with a spear? You ask yourself, still unable to see all of Sukuna. After about thirty seconds of frantic voices, your father moves to the side of him. You’re greeted with a large man, at least seven feet tall. You quickly move your eyes around to investigate him more- and see a strange thing on his face. Is that wood..? With eyes on it? You pondered, unable to remove your gaze from him. The eyes blink. A wave of fear is shot throughout your whole body. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before you return to examine him. You see increasingly concerning things- he has four eyes. On the right side, his face consists of a strange wooden textured… second face? And on the left, a normal human face- ignoring the fourth eye. You move your eyes down to recognize he’s not wearing a shirt- that's when you notice his markings. Previously, you were too appalled by everything else to see the markings on his face. He had markings on his chest too. You noticed he was wearing baggy pants, tightened around his waist with a black ribbon. You couldn’t see his arms- they were covered by the large and loose top he was wearing.

You finally stopped inspecting him and stood up. He walked over to you where a low table sat in between the both of you, with a beautiful tea set laying in the middle. You bow as a form of respect and sit back down. He doesn’t say anything and takes a seat. Upon closer scrutiny, you notice his arms are abnormally thick. This concerned you. The more you looked at him, the more terrified you became. As you were sitting there and waiting for anyone to speak, you ascertained that he has four arms. Four arms… four… arms..? You panicked. At this point, you couldn’t stop shaking. Your whole body was having a reaction of pure terror. This man is a monster. A simple glance at him could cause anyone to convulse and pass away. “H-Hello, Ryomen Sukuna… It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say with a shaky voice, your attempt at sounding smooth proved fruitless. He slowly looked up at you. The roles were reversed. Instead of your eyes on him, his eyes were scanning you- everywhere. “The painting your father showed me wasn’t accurate.” He finally growled, sounding a bit disappointed. You could feel your heart squeeze- even your future husband doesn’t like you.

You could feel his red eyes staring at you, your face flushed from the overwhelming emotions you’re experiencing. Your father, who was in the room with you and sitting on your side of the table, decided to speak up. “So, Ryomen Sukuna, I apologize for not asking you earlier, But is there a reason you chose y/n instead of my five other daughters?” He inquired, basically rubbing it in your face that you were the worst choice. You glanced upwards with a slight smile, and noticed Sukuna was shaking his head. “I chose y/n purely because I wanted to.” He said bluntly. He was so straight forward. Your father looked like he wanted to attack him. “Any particular reason?” He prodded Sukuna. You had a feeling that wasn’t the best idea, considering how fierce he looked. Sukuna let out a sigh and stared at your father as if he was planning out your father’s murder in his head. He adjusted himself and sat in a more comfortable position. “She looked pretty in the painting.” He once again bluntly responded with a dull expression. “So does this mean she doesn’t look as beautiful as you were expecting her to?” Your father questioned, basically on the edge of his seat. He couldn’t take this anticipation. He wanted Sukuna to admit that you’re hideous. “No. Although the painting isn’t accurate to her actual appearance, she’s still beautiful.” He says with a straight face, almost like what he said was scripted. You looked over to see your father’s face. He looked extremely angry.

After your first meeting with Sukuna, the next week was extremely dull. You were constantly learning new things about being a wife, and the possibilities of copulation. Since you were always kept in the house, never being allowed to leave the courtyard, you didn’t know much about relationships. Besides familial connections, you haven’t been exposed to much else. You never got to see what marriage is like due to your mother’s death shortly after giving birth to you. Even then, none of your siblings got married off as quickly as you did, so you were too young to understand what marriage was anyway. Your maids were kind enough to share their experiences with their husbands, letting you know what each of them liked. You felt happy that they were teaching you all of this important information, but you didn’t think they knew you were getting married to an anomaly like Sukuna. One week away from your wedding day.

–

Each day was passing slower than the next. The sun rose at 4:00 in the morning and you awoke an hour later. You would space out during your lessons, only thinking about Sukuna. You hated to admit it but- he was attractive. Albeit his second set of everything, he still had qualities that made him extremely handsome. His eyes, on the left side of his face, were stunning. They were a lovely red, not too saturated that they looked like rubies, but not too dark that they looked dark brown. They were a perfect mix of light and dark- like the color of blood. Each time he stared at you at your first interaction was filled with a certain type of yearning. You couldn’t understand what he wanted, but you could tell he wanted something. His muscles were chiseled and firm, as if he had no body fat whatsoever, and his tall frame made you feel a certain emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You loved his beautiful hair, a lovely pink that could only be found on tulips. And his markings, his lovely markings. Those are what intrigued you the most- after his four arms, four eyes and two faces, you just couldn’t understand how they were on him. Were they ink? Was he born with them? He drove you crazy, there were so many things you didn’t know about him.

Days passed and your birthday finally arrived. You feel you’ve learned enough, and you’re prepared to be a dutiful wife. Maids are all around you, getting you dressed in an intricate and traditional gown. It was strikingly red- just like his eyes. You felt a strange sensation in your lower stomach, a fluttering phenomenon. This has been happening to you recently whenever you thought of Sukuna, and it confused you. But it made you feel warm inside, a comforting sensation, so you were fine with the occasional flutter-feeling. While in your room, you could hear the chaos outside. Your younger siblings were eagerly awaiting to see you in your gown, and your two older sisters were helping you. This was the one time your father allowed your siblings to be near you. You considered this to be the happiest and most eventful day of your life. Although your siblings were excited, your father wasn’t. He was making sure that your wedding wasn’t as extravagant as your other siblings’ weddings were. Despite the fact you were marrying Ryomen Sukuna, a rumored mass murderer, which you had no idea about, your father only cared about making your life a little bit worse each second.

After going through all of the formalities of a wedding, such as greeting guests, paintings, and feasting, it was time for the actual ceremony. You were sitting in a room with Sukuna in your extremely beautiful kimono, while he was wearing a black kimono- however, nothing was covering his chest. You were observing your family walk onto the isle on the left side, each of them taking a seat on the left side. At the same time, you noticed no one was walking on the left side- the side Sukuna’s family was supposed to walk on. You were confused, and wanted to ask him, but decided it’d be best if you didn’t question it. Once your family is finally sitting down, a lovely shinto maiden comes into the room. “Y/n, Sukuna, please follow me and allow me to lead you in.” She said with a polite smile and a bow. You get up and slowly follow her, with Sukuna to the right of you. Once you’ve reached the entrance, a priest calls upon the benevolent spirits to bless and purify you and Sukuna. Sukuna makes a faint scoff and ignores the priest's actions. After the priest purifies both of you, he starts a ritual prayer to announce to the deities that he seeks protection and blessing for the both of you. Your family stands and bows. After everyone is seated, you and Sukuna complete the sankon-no-gi, despite his reluctance. A shinto maiden enters the room and performs a dance as an offering to the gods. Once she’s completed the dance, you and Sukuna make your way to the altar where you will read your vows. His vows sound fake and heartless, but you add your name to the end to show that your vows are both ‘heartfelt’. After offering the Tamagushi to the gods, you and Sukuna exchange rings. Your ring is a lovely silver with diamonds encased in it, and a dazzling ruby right in the middle. Sukuna’s ring is a normal silver ring with streaks of ruby. It’s hard to imagine how these were made. Finally, you complete the last few steps of the ceremony. Your father and Sukuna both pushed for no after party, no sort of casual party, since the only attendees would be your family. At this point, the wedding is over, you and Sukuna are ushered to your room. You couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

–

Sukuna walks into your room first, his arms crossed. You slowly follow him and shut the door behind you. Once you turn around, you see Sukuna sitting on your bed. It’s that feeling again. After hearing all of your maids’ stories with their husbands, you couldn’t help but imagine such actions with Sukuna. You felt an unfamiliar throbbing in between your thighs. You couldn’t understand what was happening to you. Sukuna just stared at you for a while. “Come here.” He said with a bit of a commanding tone. You practically waddle over to him- not only is the Kimono difficult to walk in, this strange sensation makes you want to avoid rubbing your legs together. Sukuna easily slips off his kimono, revealing his four arms and his magnificent markings that make your heart race. He leans over and wraps you in his arms. It’s warm. He looks up at you. You recognize that look. He wants something, and you think you know what that something is. You slowly embrace his hug and sit there for an uncomfortable amount of time. Your mind is racing about what to say. You can’t properly convey what you’re feeling, and nor can you act on your desires. The most you can do is hug him at this very moment. Eventually, he lets go. You’re confused for a split second until he easily throws you onto the bed. You were still in your kimono, so movement was difficult for you. Sukuna didn’t care, he tore it off of you, thankfully without actually ripping it. You were exposed. Your makeshift bra that didn’t look too fancy, only functional, and your panties, average and nothing too extraordinary, were the only things left covering you. You hid your face with your hands out of pure embarrassment. You didn’t know how to react.

Despite your relatively useless attempts at self defense against humiliation, Sukuna grabs your hands and puts them over your head. His hands were abnormally large, just like everything else about him. He was scanning you all over, your slim figure, your hips, your covered but obviously perfect breasts. He still had three arms he could use. This time, he actually tore off your bra and panties. You were laying on your bed, fully exposed to a man you just met two weeks ago and just got married to. You could see the sweat forming everywhere on Sukuna. Neither of you spoke any words. Not only were you too afraid, you just didn’t know what to say. Sukuna, on the other hand, was too focused on trying not to hurt your much smaller body. He kept biting his lower lip, most likely as a way to keep himself in check. Watching him like this made the throbbing return again. You could feel some sort of liquid seeping out of you ever so slowly. You noticed an unfamiliar bulge on the lower half of Sukuna. Out of pure curiosity you picked up your leg and poked it with your foot. His face changed with little delay. It looked a bit like he was in pain… You didn’t understand. You didn’t have much time to react before he dove his face onto yours, his mouth on your mouth. Is this kissing? One of the maids mentioned it. You didn’t know why, but… it filled you with a sort of satisfaction you’ve never felt before. You tried reciprocating the kiss, only for you to be an absolute amateur. Sukuna pulls away and takes a few deep breaths. “You’re horrible at this.” He whispered with a whine, regretting the fact that he pulled away from you. He instantly went back to kissing you, despite your lack of experience. Your hands were still above your head, so you had nothing you could do to defend yourself from any possible moves Sukuna might make. He started to softly grope your breasts, eventually evolving into him using two more hands to play with your nipples. You couldn’t think properly, this was too much stimulation for you. You’ve never experienced anything like this before, so to you, Sukuna was extremely skilled. He still had one free hand just resting on your hips. While he was greedily kissing you, as if you’d run away, his hand slithered closer between your thighs. He starts to rub where the throbbing originated. You practically started melting. You didn’t know how Sukuna was holding up, but you assumed he wasn’t feeling anywhere near as good as you were. And your assumption was correct. Along with the greedy face chewing, he was hard, and he could barely stand it anymore.

He pulled away and quit rubbing you, using that hand to pull out- something you’ve never seen in your life. It was sort of scary, but before you could oppose anything, he shoved it inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan of pain and.. Pleasure? Your ears start to ring ever so slightly, and Sukuna starts mumbling, intermittently interrupted with panting. You maneuver your head around to see what he was doing, and noticed- there were two? Two of those ungodly things? Your head was spinning, but for some ridiculous reason, it made you want him even more. All of the stories your maids told you were running through your head right now. But you were confused about one thing- why he wasn’t moving. You were concerned for him, this monster, but you needed to know if he was ok. “S-Sukuna..” You cautiously address. You could barely talk, you felt.. full. “Are you ok..?” you asked with a concerned look on your face. He doesn’t answer you. He just stares at you, heavily breathing with eyes he could barely keep open. He lets go of your wrists and puts two hands underneath your back, pulling you to his chest. He was still inside of you, this time slowly moving. You could feel it hit as deep as when he shoved it in. Each thrust of his made your mind go blank. You could hear him praising you, something along the lines of: “You’re holding up so well for being a virgin..” That was an unfamiliar word. He continued to thrust into you, each thrust getting more and more frantic as time went by. He let go of you and put your back on the bed once more, allowing him to move much more easily. He was going in a relatively rhythmic way, increasing his speed over time. “Fuck…” He moaned, pushing his dick deeper inside you with each movement. He was desperate for you. He’s acting like he’s been abstaining from doing such acts with a concubine for months, preparing for you. Could that be the case? Could he have wanted you for that long? You shake away the thought and focus only on the current events. His breathing was sporadic, you could tell he couldn’t handle these feelings for much longer. Though you could barely keep your eyes open, his powerful movements prevented you from properly looking at him, you got glances of his face. It was contorted in a way, but you could tell he was enjoying himself. Two of his hands were tightly gripping your hips as he thrusted into you. He continued to babble incoherent nonsense. You could tell he was close to this epitome of pleasure- something you could feel yourself. Every passing second you felt the build up, only for you to reach the climax when Sukuna allowed you to. Moments later Sukuna’s movements became less and less rhythmic. You could feel a warm sensation inside of you- your body slightly seizing up from the intense feeling you were receiving. Throughout that pure sensation of ecstasy, you felt a hot liquid shoot inside of you. You were slightly puzzled but had a more important thing to focus on. You slowly opened your eyes to Sukuna leaning over you, just staring at you… again. I suppose he doesn’t have a way with words… you thought to yourself. “...Good.” Sukuna muttered, still catching his breath from the rigorous activity you were both performing earlier. “R-Repeat that, please?” You calmly asked, tilting your head to the side to represent your confusion. “You did good.” verbatim, just this time audible. He pulled himself out of you and got up from the bed. He grabbed his ‘kimono’ and his pants, got dressed, and left. You laid there on the mattress, sweaty and uncomfortable. You felt dirty.

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #heian era #true form sukuna

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cumikering · 7 months

Text

Friend’s brother Rudy x reader

1.4k | fluff

Meeting your BFF’s older brother for the first time

For @glitterypirateduck’s Fall4Rudy <3 (Surprise, first one to make a noise loses)

Crouching, Rudy stifled a cackle as keys clinked outside. The door swung open, and as the lights came on, he jumped out from behind the couch.

“¡Sorpresa!” he exclaimed with his hands thrown up before his grin dropped.

“Holy shit!” Your brows shot up, hand frozen on the light switch. “Who- Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Mierda,” he muttered, reaching for the cake he’d set on the dining table. “I’m sorry, I thought this was my sister’s.”

“Uh… Rudy?”

He frowned. “How do you know my name?”

“I’m Dani’s friend. It is her place. I was going to surprise her.” You tilted the pan of warm cinnamon rolls towards him. You were glad you didn’t drop them earlier.

He let out a relieved laugh as he sat down. “For a second I thought I came to the wrong apartment. Come in, come in.”

You closed the door and made your way to the table with your gaze casted down, unwrapping the pan beside Rudy’s cake.

“Hey, I remember you. Are you her friend from university? You moved here recently, no?”

Daniela had shown you plenty of her family photos with the accompanying stories throughout your years of friendship. Even if you never told her, she picked up (too fast) that you found Rudy handsome and teased you about it.

Him recognising you made your cheeks even hotter. You wondered what else she told him.

“Yes,” you mumbled, pulling out the chair across him.

“You have any idea what time she’s coming home? I waited over an hour in the dark. It was getting really boring.”

You chuckled, looking up at him. He had a light stubble with scars on his face the photos never picked up. His loose white shirt hung perfectly from his figure as he leaned back, a shadow of his chest hair peeking over the neckline. He was much more attractive up close.

“She texted me she was heading home. Should be here in 5, 10 minutes.”

“I need payback for waiting so long.” He smiled devilishly and eyed the cinnamon rolls. He leaned in and cocked an eyebrow. “I know just how to annoy her.”

You laughed. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He nodded in approval. “You’re a good friend. I like you.” He grabbed two forks from the kitchen drawer before carving a roll out. “Did you know she had this phase when we were teenagers? She got every kind of cinnamon soap, candle, essential oil... I hated the smell, didn’t want to go to her room for months.”

“She’s still got those candles in her room.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh Lord.” He handed you one half on the fork.

You couldn’t wipe the delight off your face as you chewed. He smiled too, the warm gaze of his caramel eyes melted you. You looked away, heart racing. Was it from sharing a little treat or the thrill of being mischievous?

You gestured at the Yoda cake. Old you are, it said on the bottom.

“She, uh, doesn't like Star Wars... At all.”

“Exactly.” He smirked.

“You really love pranking her, huh.”

“She told you?”

“Of course. Told me when she broke your action figure one time, you took the training wheels off her bike.”

“I remember. I took them to school so she couldn't find them, but I lost them instead. Our parents got so mad at me.” He barked out a laugh. “But she ended up learning how to ride a bike properly, so I guess I didn't totally mess up.”

You smiled, finding their relationship endearing. “She misses you a lot, you know. Says she doesn't see you enough even that your base is here.”

“She does?” He sighed. “I do too. Unfortunately my deployments can get unpredictable.”

“I mean siblings are rarely as close as you both. Sometimes I even wish the same for myself,” you said wistfully.

His gaze softened. “That's true. Thanks for telling me, I'll-“

The sound of a car’s locking beep made you tear your eyes off his. “That’s her!”

“Quick, help me turn the lights off.” He stood, chucking the dirty spoons in the sink.

You did, and he guided you to the back of the couch with his phone. Crouching next to each other in the dark, you couldn’t deny his alluring presence, his warmth radiating off him. He smelt clean and fresh of soap, and you itched to lean in a touch closer.

“I hope to see you again soon," he breathed. The light from outside illuminated his sincere smile just enough. "Maybe I can show you around town.”

You bit your lip, averting your gaze. "I'd like that," you muttered.

On the floor, his fingers brushed over yours. “First one to make a noise loses,” he teased. “Then you’ll have to take the fall for the missing cinnamon roll.”

Despite the warning, you let out a chuckle, your heart thumping.

"Shhh," he said as footsteps approached, still smiling.

The door unlocked, and the both of you stood as the lights flicked on.

"Surprise!" "¡Sorpresa!"

Daniela yelped but soon grinned from ear to ear. "Oh my God, you guys!"

Rudy took his cake, wrapping his arm around her at the door. “Happy birthday to my favourite sister.”

She glanced at the cake and gave him an unamused look, shaking her head.

“Happy birthday, Dani!” You pulled her into a hug and presented your gift.

She threw her head back in laughter. "I don't need to ask who did this." She smacked Rudy's arm. "You took my favourite piece!"

He looked way too pleased with himself.

Daniela suggested the three of you go out for dinner. The Parras spoke in English to include you, but they couldn’t help slipping into Spanish here and there. You could only smile in amusement watching them tease each other, Rudy glancing over ever so often as if to ensure if you were having a good time too.

When Rudy excused himself to the bathroom, Daniela shot you a knowing look. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

“Never would have guessed this is how you were going to meet him, but I hope you enjoyed dinner.”

You gave her a bashful smile. “I did, he’s really nice.” And handsome.

“I’m happy you both finally met. Judging by the way he kept looking, I think you might have a date soon.” She raised an eyebrow, and it occurred to you who she probably picked up the habit from.

You couldn’t help stealing a glance when Rudy walked back to the table. His snug jeans accentuated the way his hips moved as he strode casually. His well-defined arms were on display with his hands in his pockets. He had no right looking so good in such a simple outfit.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” Daniela announced. “Rudy, would you be so kind to walk her home?”

His eyes locked with yours. “It would be my pleasure.”

After exchanging your goodbyes, Daniela left after giving you one last satisfied smile. She couldn’t be more obvious in setting the both of you up. You had to bake her more cinnamon rolls.

During the walk, Rudy slowed down to your pace when he realised he was walking too fast. Like the gentleman he was, he also offered you his arm which you took with joy. He even made sure to have you walk on the inside of the pavement, keeping you away from traffic. Along the way, he told you of the few places he’d been in the area, adding that he was open to discovering more since he wasn’t very familiar with it yet.

Your feet grew heavier the closer you were to home. You enjoyed clinging onto him a little too much as you chatted. Satisfaction bubbled in your chest whenever you got him to laugh, watching the little crinkles by his kind eyes. You adored the calming silkiness of his voice and how his R’s curled.

At your door, you reluctantly let go of his arm, turning to him.

“I meant it when I said I hope to see you again.”

You beamed at him. You hesitated, but braved yourself to step in for a hug.

He gave you a squeeze and you squealed into his shoulder, making him chuckle. When he pulled away, you hoped your blush wasn’t too apparent.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?”

My fellow Rudy simp: @sofasoap

#fall4rudy #rodolfo parra #rudy parra #rudy x reader #rodolfo rudy parra #call of duty #cod #rudy fluff #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #rudy cod #cod x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty fluff #cod fluff #rudy parra x reader

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