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#love him a lot but why does he have lines for eyebrows?!?
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party monster || fred weasley
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SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. TW: partying, drug usage (cocaine guys), fred’s ooc sorry not sorry, paranoia, etc. just overall v mature themes. OBVIOUSLY DO NOT DO COCAINE. this has a lot of plot ;)
Fred Weasley was never one to turn down an invitation to a party. Especially not one from Mattheo Riddle, to a Slytherin party.
Fred had felt like he had seen it all. He had watched the Hufflepuffs get giggly over champagne, Gryffindors try muggle grass for the first time, and Ravenclaws make tame mixed drinks that sent their minds into oblivion.
Slytherin’s on the other hand, went as hard as Fred liked. Of course muggle grass and alcohol was provided. The usual sex addicts were on the prowl for someone new to warm their bed. But what Fred enjoyed about the Slytherins the most, was their lack of fear to try muggle substances.
The most recent substance the most fearless had been trying was cocaine.
George refused to attend Slytherin parties, frowning upon the houses entirety. Truthfully Fred used to be the same way, until Mattheo offered him his first joint. The dark lords son had introduced him to an entire new world of highs, ones that Fred couldn’t find anywhere else.
For the past year the core Slytherins had been trying different pills, ones Theodore had been smuggling from a muggle born Hufflepuff who was naive enough to think they were being used for medical purposes. Fred had been to enough of these parties to where no one questioned his presence. If anything, he was often greeted and offered a cigarette at the very least.
It was highly unusual for other houses to venture into the Slytherins events, old superstitions still highly believed in. Fred would’ve been the same way, if it weren’t for Mattheo. It was an unlikely friendship, one no one could understand. Not George, Not Draco, no one. The ginger scanned the room, excited to find his friend. Word on the street about cocaine being smuggled into Hogwarts was spreading like wildfire. Fred knew he had to be one of the first ones to try it.
Strolling up confidently to the couch Mattheo always sat, the ginger waved. One of Penelope Clearwaters friends sat in Mattheo’s lap, her blue uniform making her stick out like a sore thumb. Mattheo grinned at the sight of Fred, gently pushing the girl away from sucking more hickies onto his neck. “Why don’t you go take a few shots with Pansy and i’ll meet you over there in a second?” He suggested. The girl glanced at Fred, taking the hint and starting her journey of finding Pansy.
Theodore Nott sat on the other side of the couch, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. “My favorite Gryffindor, welcome to another rager,” Mattheo chuckled, gesturing to the party that was occurring around them. Fred took a seat beside the brunette, greeting Theodore as well. “So Riddle, what do you have for me? You know I love to try whatever new hits the market,” Fred asked. Mattheo reached into his pocket, holding up a small plastic baggy of white powder.
Fred’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Previously he was under the impression that all muggle party substances were in the form of small pills. “That looks like it’s going to taste like shit,” Fred pointed out. A genuine chuckle escaped Mattheo’s lips as he grabbed a small metal tray. “Thats because it does, you don’t swallow it, you snort it,” He explained. Fred watched curiously as he poured the powder onto the tray. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand.
Mattheo used the tip to slice it into three tiny lines, the small amount only furthering his curiosity. “How many milligrams is that per line?” Fred asked, trying to get a better grasp on the drug in front of him. Once Mattheo made sure the lines looked even, he set his wand aside. “Doesnt work like that. Nott, wanna lead by example?” He asked, gesturing the tray to him.
Theodore didn’t seem to hesitate at all, his nose hovering over one of the lines and inhaling it without a second thought. His lack of hesitance made Fred more confident. “Alright alright let me see what all of this hype is about,” The ginger interjected. Fred was determined to ‘one up’ Theo, the potions master always a bit too cocky for his liking. (Even if he thoroughly enjoyed spending hangovers with him.)
Fred mimicked Theo’s actions, holding one side of his nose as he inhaled the first line. Flames seem to spread through his nostril, the ginger deciding to ignore it and to snort the other line as well. Sharp pain washed over Fred’s senses, the feeling of the powder sliding down the back of his throat making him cough. “Look at that! Atta boy,” Mattheo said encouragingly, patting Fred on the back. As the brunette took a cigarette out of the box Theo gestured to him, he gestured to the party.
“Let’s get out there, shall we?”
Fred had never felt more talkative in his life. From Pansy, to Blaise, to Slytherins he didn’t know, he could not stop talking. Sober, Fred was a very social person. But he knew when to let the conversation fizzle out. But as of right now? That concept didn’t exist. He felt utterly invincible, as if the world itself existed around him for his pleasure and his only. His throat had gone numb, unable to feel the shots he downed repeatedly.
As he was talking to Blaise about his latest prank, his eyes briefly flickered to you. You were mesmerizing, a girl he had never seen before. Fred ensured to keep track of girls in his year, knowing which ones were taken and what not. But you looked to be the same age as him and he had never seen you a day in his life. You stood by the alcohol table, pouring raw tequila down your throat. Without excusing himself Fred left, abandoning his conversation with a way too drunk Blaise.
Fred knew he had to meet you, something about you calling to him. Even as you downed the liquor your hips swayed to the music, your curves intriguing Fred even more. The ginger didn’t feel one ounce of nervousness, the coke having imbedded in his mind. “Hey there, mind if I have a swig?” Fred asked. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, before handing him the bottle. “Thanks,” He said, taking a drink. Fred’s throat was completely numb, the firey liquid not affecting him at all.
He handed the bottle back to you, giving you a sly grin. Your lips were painted a dark red, your beautiful eyes accompanied by flattering dark makeup. The kind Fred could only imagine a Slytherin could pull off. “You have something right here,” You replied, pointing to your upper lip. In a sudden movement you stepped forward, wiping the very top of Fred’s lip. You held up your thumb, the faintest sprinkle of white powder coating the pad of your thumb.
“Thanks, been a wild night. When new muggle stuff comes in it’s always exciting to try it,” Fred said, unscathed by your action. If anything he was into it, thrilled that you were so touchy. “It always is, isn’t it?” You say, taking another swig of the bottle. Fred couldn’t help but grin, thrilled that a girl as hot as you understood his enthusiasm. It was difficult finding another student so adventurous, yet here you stood.
A girl behind you waved at Fred, a friend of Pansy’s. Fred waved back, making a mental note to talk to her later. “So, a lion playing with snakes?” You ask, creating conversation. He hadn’t realized he had just been standing there, his eyes flickering in every direction. Soaking in the party, the music, you, the lights, Pansy’s friend-
“I’m a good friend of Riddle’s, great isn’t he?” Fred said. He gestured to the brunette who was currently dancing on top of a table, his tie loose and hanging around his shoulders. A cigarette hung on his lips, his hips occupied by grinding on the Hufflepuff in front of him. You nodded in agreement, shrugging. After tonight Fred made another mental note to ask Mattheo about you. You were awfully quiet for a Slytherin.
“A real charmer, that’s for sure,” You replied, your words laced with sarcasm. Your eyes flickered to Fred, shooting him a playful smile. “As are you. I see where he learns it from,” You continue, biting your lower lip. Flattery was the gingers weakness, a cocky smile creeping across his lips. “Hey, you wanna get out of here? My dorms gonna be empty. Roommates crashing with one of the boys,” You ask, pointing to the dungeons. Fred knew about the girls rooms being in the dungeons all too well, his visits down there frequent.
“Sure, lead the way little witch,” Fred purred. You grabbed his large hand, your skin cold to the touch. You led him through the hot swaying bodies, your hand gripping his his. As you both approached the staircase to go down further Fred looked over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Mattheo. The brunettes eyebrows were furrowed as he watched him, mouthing a clear question: ‘you good?’
Fred smiled and nodded, shooting him a thumbs up as he followed you down the dungeons. If there was anything Fred knew about Slytherins, without stereotyping them too much, was that they cared about appearances. They kept precise upkeep about their looks, (maybe not including Mattheo), that it teetered towards an unhealthy amount. In Fred’s opinion anyway. He didn’t have to deal with strict parents with pureblood ideologies, so he didn’t feel like he had room to judge.
As you led him further down the staircase he noticed several mirrors in between portraits, for students to use while heading up to the common room. Fred’s focus mainly was on himself, noticing how large his pupils were. You both reached towards the end of the staircase, Fred’s eyes still focused on the mirror. For a split second he squinted, noticing he didn’t see you. His hand was being held in mid air, your fingers not entangled around his palm like he saw before him.
Questioning was on the tip of his tongue, your abrupt words cutting him off. “My dorm is further down and I need you, now,” You say urgently, palming at Fred’s shirt. His eyes flickered to yours, unsure. “Did you see that? You weren’t in the reflection,” Fred asked, completely ignoring your statement. You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the girls bathroom on the right side of the hall. “You’re paranoid, do you want to fuck or not?” You asked.
Fred shook his head, trying to rationalize with himself. He had a hot witch standing in front of him and he was about to fuck up a one night stand because of some muggle drug. “Absolutely,” Fred agreed, allowing you to lead him into the bathroom. Admittedly this was one place Fred hadn’t been, his knowledge of the room little to none. He was surprised that a velvet green couch sat almost in the center of the room. Would that have been his style choice? Absolutely not. Do witches tend to take their time in the restrooms gossiping? Fred believed so.
Your lips were on him before he could process it, his back hitting the couch. You tasted like raw alcohol, his tastebuds flooded with the sensation as you got on top of him. Fred was typically dominant, but he never minded a Slytherin topping him. You were so confident, tugging your shirt over your heard before reattaching your lips to his. Your touch made Fred want to immediately submit, his cock growing harder by the minute as you straddled him.
“Hard already? Naughty naughty gryffindor,” You teased, biting his bottom lip. Fred groaned, his hands flying to your waist. He guided you to grind against him, his cock growing achingly hard. You kissed down the side of his face to his neck, sucking at his sweet spot. Fred squeezed your thighs, whimpering as your lips littered his skin with marks. You kissed down his clothed chest, all the way down to his aching cock.
You teasingly kissed his hard on, maintaining eye contact as you did so. The ginger bucked his hips towards, throwing his head back as you unbuckled his belt. “If you want me to suck your cock you’re going to have to beg Freddie,” You say, unbuttoning his jeans. Spews of pleas left his lips faster than he would like to admit, “Fuck, please, touch me, please.”
A brief concern of how you knew his name crossed his mind, the worry fading as you shoved his boxers and jeans down his thighs. Fred was decently known, maybe you had known him for an infamous prank or-
His spinning thoughts came to a screeching halt as you took him into your mouth. Fred couldn’t control his noises, you taking control of him and his pleasure one of the hottest things he had ever seen. As you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, Fred chopped up his previous mental ramble to paranoia. Most likely he was coming down from his high, his body adjusting his mind back to normal.
Fred didn’t even know your name, but the moans he was making made it sound like he did. He was pure putty at your hands, willingly and merciless at your disposal. His tip brushed against the back of your throat, expectancy of the sound of gagging ensuing. Except it didn’t. Fred looked down at you in awe, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t have a gag reflex? What kind of magic was this?
He roughly grabbed the back of your head, pushing you down further onto his cock. You took his length with ease, saliva pooling to the base of his shaft. “Merlin, you’re a goddess right? Sent to me from above?” Fred panted, his mind trying to wrap around you. You pulled off of his cock, his hands not affecting your movement. He thought he had applied a decent amount of pressure, even if it was involuntary. What were you? Were you some kind of-
“Maybe, maybe you’re just my personal pet. My babies get the best treatment you know,” You purred. The ginger had no idea what you were rambling about, but what he did know, was that he wanted you to fuck him. “Ride me, fuck, please ride me,” He whined. Most girls would’ve asked for foreplay, head, or something along those lines. But you didn’t ask for either, instead lifting up your skirt and shoving your panties to the side. You guided his tip up and down your drenched folds, the feeling of your warm slick enough to make Fred groan.
He couldn’t understand why he felt so sensitive, his body on cloud nine just from your simple touch. You sank down onto his cock with ease, your walls clenching around him. Fred threw his head back, unable to formulate coherent words as you began to ride him. You seemed unfazed by his size, riding him like you had been doing so for years. Fred was not only unable to speak, but completely and utterly speechless.
You didn’t seem real, his unrealistic expectations for a hookup playing out in front of him. You leaned forward, one hand placed on his throat while the other tugged at his hair. “You like that huh? Feel good Freddie?” You asked. Fred groaned an agreement, his cock brushing against your g spot with every roll of your hips. Most witches would tire out by now, opting to switch positions. Yet you didn’t, your body not seeming to tire as you squeezed at the sides of his throat.
“So good, Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me,” Fred moaned as you licked up the side of his neck. He felt his orgasm approaching, the ginger flustered by the feeling. Was it the coke that was going to make him bust quick? Or was it how well you were riding him? His eyes wondered over your shoulder, landing on a large full length mirror. The presence of the mirror wasn’t surprising, but what was, was your absence. You weren’t present in the reflection, Fred’s head beginning to spin.
“Uh, you’re not in the m-mirror, I-” Fred stuttered, his high approaching faster than he wanted it to. He wanted to go all night with you, but why weren’t you showing up in the mirror? You sat up, your breast bouncing as you continued to ride him.
“You’re being paranoid Freddie, now why don’t you go ahead and cum for me?”
Fred’s hips stuttered as he came inside of your cunt, his head rolling back onto the couch. His ears were ringing, any sounds of you or the party dulling out into nothingness. He began seeing stars, his vision fading out completely. His senses had seemed to given up, Fred’s body unable to sustain itself, passing out.
\/
Fred had woken up a lot of strange places after a party. Most times he woke up beside a witch whose name he didn’t know. Other times he would wake up in random places, one time including the whomping willow. (To this day, no one has any idea how he survived OR got a good nights sleep.) Where Fred had never been woken up before, was in the male Slytherin dorms. Nor, had he ever been violently shaken awake by someone. Faintly he could hear a familiar voice calling out to him, but the words were incoherent.
“Fred! Wake the fuck up!”
He jolted awake, his heart pounding out of his chest as he sat up. Scattered,he looked around, unaware of where he was. His eyes landed on Mattheo and Draco, both of which seemed extremely concerned. “W-what..?” Fred stumbled out. His head was pounding with a rager headache, his body felt drained and spent. “Pansy found you uh-” Draco began, before shooting Mattheo a look that he should speak instead. Mattheo sighed, handing Fred a glass of water.
“She found you in the girls bathroom passed out with your pants pulled down and you uh, came all over yourself,” Mattheo informed him. Fred could feel himself turning red, clutching the water in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief, becoming dizzy again as he rested his hand on his forehead to keep himself propped up.
“Do you have any idea how you ended up like that dude?” Mattheo asked, keeping his voice even. Bags hung under his eyes, his knee bouncing anxiously. It was rare Fred ever saw Mattheo sober, but he could definitely tell he was. You raced through the gingers mind, embarrassment flooding over him. You weren’t real? None of it was real?
A knock on the door alerted the trio, the Slytherins eyes landing on the new comer. “Well shit I see the party monsters awake,” Theodore said, waltzing in. His confidence made Fred uneasy, his stomach churning. “Do you happen to remember what happened last night?” He asked him, his voice breaking. Theo nodded, taking a seat. “Why don’t you drink some water and i’ll tell you all about it?”
Theo didn’t know Fred well by any means. Sometimes he questioned what Mattheo saw in the ginger, the prankster a bit too full of himself. It was a coincidence he saw him by the alcohol table, talking to himself. At first Theo assumed he was yelling to someone, or even on a muggle phone a lot of Gryffinors used. Cautiously Theo rounded the table, raising his eyebrows as Fred offered the bottle of tequila he had been cuddling to the air in front of him.
The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes, watching dumbfounded as Astoria Greengrass gave him a wave. Briefly his eyes flickered upwards at the Slytherin, before returning to the void in front of him. With a confused expression Theo decided it was none of his business, returning back to Mattheo with new drinks in hand. He figured he was just high, anyways. Unknowingly Mattheo had recommended Fred to Astoria, who was looking for a quick hook up to help her get over her ex.
A dumbfounded Astoria had beat Theo to Mattheo, her lips moving a mile a minute. She was weirded out by Fred’s behavior, the ginger confirmed to be talking to the air. Mattheo’s eyes flickered upwards, watching as Fred was heading towards the stairs. His hand was held out in front of him, a goofy smile spread across his lips. He made eye contact with Mattheo, who managed to communicate through all the noise and ask if he was good.
Fred seemed more than good, excitedly nodding and heading down to the dungeons. It wasn’t until the next morning Pansy came running, trying to get the boys to help her carry Fred before anyone saw him.
As the group sat in Mattheo’s room you watched from the shadows, invisible to everyone around you. You had died from a cocaine overdose in 1970, the curse of your afterlife being that no one could see you. The only time anyone did, was when they had done the drug themselves. You didn’t quite understand the logistics of it, other ghost able to see you, but no being with a beating heart could.
You had been shocked Fred had seen you at the alcohol table, after being used to being unseen for so long. As cocky and mischievous as you knew Fred to be from watching, you liked him. So much so that you knew scaring the ever loving fuck out of him was going to be the only way he would never touch the horrid stuff again. Party monsters like Fred, often times danced on the line between life and death. Their bodies, from what you could understand, would be into overdrive. That crossover allowed him to see you.
You thoroughly enjoyed fucking Fred, even if the ginger now regretted it. And as much as you wished you could see him again, you knew he deserved a better chance at life. “Bloody hell, i’m never touching that stuff again,” Fred groaned, cupping his pounding head. You smiled at his confession, walking up to Draco’s side. You stood beside him, the blonde unaware of your presence. Your mission was complete, Fred would be on a better path now. You smiled to yourself, watching as the ginger lifted his head.
His eyes widened, centered on you.
“What the actual fuck are you doing here?!”
He can see you?
a/n: can yall tell im into plot twist rn? lol. might do a part two if yall want it >:)
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hiiiii i'm here to give you a big hug and request a 1k prompt 🙌
1. a biiiiiig hug
2. as for the (hehe smutty) prompt!
i think i would LOVE to see ed feeling vulnerable and safe enough to share with stede that a lot of things don't work for him in bed because of his knee and at first he is cautious and worries stede will get angry or frustrated with him, but of course stede showers him with love and care and thinks of a hundred ways to have sex that are not painful or uncomfortable for him 🫶
Ooh I really loved this one, thanks so much for sending it in (and sending you a hug right back)! Get absolutely adored and cherished Ed!!
Under the cut since this one's a bit nsfw! I'd put it at a strong M rating, no explicit sexual content but obviously it's about sex.
Ed had never really owned up to how fucking inconvenient the knee could make things, not before.
See, there are certain things that are mood- killers, and then there are things that are straight-up dangerous to admit, and Ed’s little problem was both. The hookups Ed was used to wouldn’t just laugh at him for being in pain during sex, they would’ve taken it as a sign of weakness. A sign that Ed was vulnerable, weak, easy to exploit and to harm. 
So, usually, he just put up with it. If it was awful, like if a guy pushed his legs back, forcing the knee to bend at a harsh angle, he might find some excuse to change it up, but usually he just closed his eyes and hoped his grunts of discomfort sounded pleasured instead of pained. He would close his eyes, after, breathing through the pain, vowing that he’d never have sex in a painful position again for the rest of his life, cautiously listening to make sure whatever guy he’d taken to bed wasn’t trying to pull any shit. Rinse and repeat a few weeks later.
Stede, though. Talk about a hell of a difference.
He’d figured out that Ed didn’t like some things, Ed thought. He never held down Ed’s bad leg, never forced the knee to bend. Rubbed the joint so tenderly after sex. And that maybe should’ve made it easier to admit to his problem, but Stede made Ed feel so good, and he wanted to return the favor, and…
“Ed, honey, you’re somewhere else tonight.”
Ed sniffed, shifted. They’d been breaking in their new bed (still called it that, even though they’d been breaking it in for a couple months now), and he was half in Stede’s lap, legs flung across Stede’s thighs. He should’ve felt perfect.
“Sorry,” he whispered, and when Stede’s light, appraising touches traveled down his leg, rubbing lightly at his knee, he hissed, the pain making him flinch involuntarily.
Stede kissed his fingertips, then touched them feather-light to Ed’s knee. “Does it hurt?”
“Just stiff,” Ed said dismissively.
Stede just hummed. Ed knew he wouldn’t force the issue.
“I, uh…” Ed cleared his throat. “What would you say if I said I didn’t think I should ride you anymore?”
He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anger on Stede’s face -
“I’d say that was fine,” Stede said easily. “Why? Does it make your knee hurt when we do that?”
“Maybe a little,” Ed admitted softly.
“Okay,” Stede said, and he positioned his hands around Ed’s knee, rubbing his thumbs gently along the sore, tender joint, working out the stiffness of exertion. Ed hissed, his face scrunching up at the sensation, and Stede just cooed soft apologies.
That was - that was it, though, wasn’t it? Ed knew he was safe to let Stede see him in pain. Stede hadn’t ever gotten angry or frustrated with him for being in pain or needing help with his knee before, why would this be any different?
“Um,” Ed started haltingly, “I actually think maybe we might need to be a little more careful. During intercourse. With my knee. If that sounds alright to you. Maybe.”
When he opened his eyes, Stede was getting that pinched line between his eyebrows.
“Ed?” Stede pulled Ed a bit more securely into his arms, and Ed sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of Stede’s arms around his waist. “Have you been hurting? While we have sex? Have I been hurting you?”
“Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, I’m just…” Stede let his breath out in a long sigh. “I don’t want to ever do anything that hurts you. Not ever. Especially not when we’re trying to do something that’ll make us both feel good. How can I help keep you comfortable?”
“Well…” Ed grimaced. “Bending my knee is what hurts the most.”
“Alright,” Stede said thoughtfully, and Ed could see the wheels turning in his head. Taking out positions that required Ed to bend his knee took so much off the table. Riding, giving blowjobs, even fucking missionary, and Ed was a bit terrified he’d just ruined their sex life.
Clearly, he’d underestimated Stede Bonnet’s creativity. 
Ed should’ve known he was in for a treat when he caught Stede woodworking in the backyard and was given a full presentation about all the features of the “blowjob stool” he was building, a seat designed to cushion and support Ed’s knee while putting him at perfect dick-sucking height. 
Stede was endlessly thoughtful when adapting positions they already liked, too. Ed liked being taken from behind; they discovered that a pillow under his hips kept him comfortable and allowed him to keep his legs straight. When Ed missed looking into Stede’s eyes during sex, they experimented with variously supporting his knee with pillows or propping his ankle on Stede’s shoulder. Spooning, bent over a desk, the good ol’ 69… not all of Stede’s ideas or little inventions worked, but the ideas he had for supports to keep Ed comfortable meant it was the best sex Ed had ever had, full stop. It was really damn nice to be able to enjoy himself without worrying about being in pain.
The best parts, though, weren’t just the sex itself.
They’d found that Ed’s knee was least painful when his muscles were relaxed and when he was feeling good, so they often had a warm bath first. It was fun foreplay, and relaxing together while Stede rubbed tiger balm into the joint in the afterglow was the perfect way to snuggle and talk about what they’d enjoyed.
“I’m glad I told you,” Ed whispered one night, tracing their initials over Stede’s heart as they cuddled, Ed’s bad leg slung over Stede’s hip to keep it propped up.
“Me, too,” Stede said, kissing Ed’s cheek.
Ed was learning, still, that he’d never have to just put up with pain again. And it was soft, soft, as smooth and sweet as honey.
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ink-ami · 3 months
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Wanted to do a piece with the BB elite 4 once Kieran (and by extension, Carmine) comes back after the epilogue. I think they were nice about it, even if Drayton still rubs salt into the wound. Also the occasion to draw them all because I fear I won't do it again...
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svuguru · 2 months
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Naoya using his step sister ??
"Hold still," Naoya grunts, his fingers digging into your thighs as he bends your legs against your chest. You whine and bat your wet lashes at him, lips stuck out into a pout.
"Naoya, mom and dad would be mad," you tell him with clear hesitance in your voice, only to be met with a groan and a light pat on your cheek.
"No, they wouldn't," he mutters, "and anyways, who'd tell them? You're not gonna be a little tattle tale, hm?" A mocking grin crosses his features, to which you pout at.
"No, promise I won't!" You bring your thumb up to your lips and press it against the soft flesh, shaking your head frantically, earning a condescending scoff from him.
"There we go," and with that, Naoya thrusts his hips forward, eliciting a loud gasp from you. You squeeze your eyes shut, your jaw going slack as you feel his tip tease that gummy spot in you. "Now keep quiet." And you do - or, you try to. Your hand covers your mouth to quiet your voice, and though it doesn't completely silence your sounds, it does muffle them enough.
"Naoya, you're too big!" You whimper and open your eyes again, tits bouncing from the impact of his hips.
"Shh, I told you to keep it down, remember?" Naoya grunts into your ear, "it'd be mean to not listen to big brother." Eager to please, you nod your head and dig your teeth into your lower lip.
"m sorry..." you mumble, turning your head to the side, your cheek sinking into the supple pillow. Again, you moan when another sharp thrust of Naoya's hips fuck his fat cock into your tight cunt.
It's clear that Naoya is trying to keep you quiet, so in an attempt to finally shut you up, he presses his lips against yours. Your eyebrows furrow, tears falling from your lash line down your red plump cheeks.
You can feel his veins slide against your warm walls, which has you squeezing him tight. After not even a few minutes, a knot ties in your tummy. Naoya feels you pulsing around him, which is why his thrusts have became clearly harder, stronger, pushing you closer to release.
He pulls away from your lips though a strand of saliva connects you to him before it inevitably dissipates.
"Mh, gonna cum, Naoya," your voice is whiny and borderline desperate, how could he possibly resist.
"Yeah? Hold on," so you do, with excitement to please your dear stepbrother. Your legs find themselves wrapped around Naoya's waist, pushing him deeper into your little pussy absentmindedly.
The stretch is a lot, almost too much, but you keep down your whines. Your throat is tight, your tummy is in knots, and your cheeks are tear-stained. His hips are brutal and relentless, his dick hitting all the right spots.
"Lemme cum, Naoya!" You pout.
"Okay, okay, don't fucking cry," he huffs, "cum, pretty girl," With those three words alone, you're releasing all over his length. Your juices coat his cock, pretty sounds just spilling from your lips like an overflowing sink. Pleads of nothing fall from your mouth.
"I love you, Naoya," you murmur drowsily as he pulls out.
"Mhmm," Naoya hums and leans down to plant a kiss to your forehead.
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
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word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
1K notes · View notes
lxkeee · 1 month
Text
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART NINE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: family trauma/lore
Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!
PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION
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Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.
Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.
Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.
Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.
“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.
“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.
“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.
Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.
“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.
Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”
[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”
“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.
It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.
With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”
Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.
“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”
Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.
Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.
Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.
“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”
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After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.
Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.
It created cracks in their relationship.
Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.
And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.
[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.
But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.
Does she?
No, she doesn't.
Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.
Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.
With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.
Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.
Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.
Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.
‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’
[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.
‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.
Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.
Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.
Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.
Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.
Tired, dull, and swollen.
No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.
[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.
Something she didn't experience from him lately.
“You're so beautiful.”
She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.
Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.
A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.
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She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.
Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.
Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.
‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.
Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.
“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”
She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.
‘That is... If he comes home...’
She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face,  framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.
‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’
She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.
She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.
“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.
She felt like a walking corpse.
Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.
She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.
She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.
‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.
She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.
‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.
Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.
[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.
Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.
Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.
[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.
“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.
‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’
She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’
‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’
She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.
He never came home that day.
She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.
Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.
Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.
“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.
They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.
“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.
Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”
She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”
“I love you too, darling.”
She cried herself to sleep that night.
She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.
Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.
Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.
“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.
Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.
He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.
“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.
“It's part of my job, love—”
“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”
“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.
“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?
He doesn't know the answer to that.
“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.
Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.
“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.
[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?
“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.
“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”
[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.
“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”
“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.
“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.
The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.
Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.
Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.
She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.
‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’
She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.
She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.
Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.
[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.
“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.
‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.
She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.
She passed out.
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She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.
And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.
She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.
Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.
“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.
He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...
“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.
“What is it...?”
“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.
“What...?”
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[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.
She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?
Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.
‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’
Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.
“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.
The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.
“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.
[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.
Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.
“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.
“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.
“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.
She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.
Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.
“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.
Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”
“I know.”
Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.
“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.
He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.
She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.
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[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.
Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.
She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.
And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.
Even after all these years, she can't forget.
[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.
Knock, knock, knock.
Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”
Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.
“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.
“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”
Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.
“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.
[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”
Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”
Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.
“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.
Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”
“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.
“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.
“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.
“Am I?”
[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.
“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.
[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.
“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.
“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.
He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.
[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.
“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”
“Shush.”
“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”
“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.
“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.
[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.
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cinnamoneve · 2 months
Text
𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚.
atelophobia \ əˌtɛləˈfəʊbɪə \ (n.) - the fear of imperfection of not being good enough.
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❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru's been valued only what he could offer others, until he met you. ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: more of a self indulgent character study to get back into the swing of writing !!! pls enjoy <3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :3
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satoru gojo held many roles and titles in his life. he was a son, a sorcerer, teacher, role model, a special grade, the honored one, the strongest. the strongest. whatever that was supposed to mean.
he knew what it meant, sure, but the lines were blurred a bit around the parameters of what exactly his role was. he was satoru, gojo-san, gojo-sensei, and whatever sweet term of endearment you thought up for him. between that, satoru’s identity and purpose got muddled as the titles and meaning were ever-changing.
he didn’t feel a certain way about any of it, really. or so he thought. the one accolade satoru couldn't claim was being totally indifferent.
you almost admired that aspect of him. how his nose scrunched up when something he eats tastes off, how he played with his blindfold when he needed to get something off his chest. or maybe, it was the way his eyebrow twitched ever-so-slightly if you pronounce a word in a funny way. there is no subtle, subdued, or nonchalant bone in your boyfriend’s body. everything on his mind was said before his mouth even opened.
because of that, you knew satoru was happy to be home by the way he refused to leave your side. it’s rare he gets a decent break like this; his students had a week-long retreat in kyoto that he’d meet them at eventually. for now, he had some small ends to tie up on the homefront that he was dragging out so he could stay a bit longer with you.
satoru sat on the edge of the empty bath, admiring you as you did your skincare at the vanity. if his legs weren’t long enough to touch the ground, you imagined he’d be swinging them back and forth as he gushed about his students.
“...and maki beat mai in a one-on-one. again.”
you rolled your eyes as you clipped hair away from your forehead, “even i could’ve predicted that.”
“i don’t know why those two always find each other if they’ve got such a grudge,” 
you patted your face dry.
“it must be a sister thing,” you chuckled.
“something like that, i guess,”
“you’re not upset you’re missing it?”
satoru studied you in silence as he let the question linger a bit more. part of him was. maybe more than just part of him. he let out a hum as he thought about it.
“not really,” he concluded, “i want to be here,”
you smiled at him through the mirror as you caught his eyes. 
“it’s okay to be both, babe. be as selfish as you want,”
was it really okay for him to be selfish? nobody had ever told him before that the choice was his. even if it always was.
satoru had spent a lot of time being what other people said he should be. unfortunately, most aspects of his personality and day-to-day life were not decided by him. maybe it was atonement for the way he acts. could it be his fault? is it punishment for the gift he didn’t ask for? it’d be rich to still call it a gift. it was more like a plague, or a curse. something he had to bear and live with, master and hone. 
it was admired, it was hated. it controlled him, he controlled it.
everything he was, fundamentally, came from what he could provide.
satoru didn’t realize how exhausting it was until you came along and shared the burden with him. silently, lovingly, and effortlessly. maybe he was a little selfish. was it selfish to miss his kids in kyoto while having the love of his life in front of him? or maybe it was selfish to relish in the time at home and drag it out for one more minute with you.
being in between is lonely. 
but the loneliness will pass, just like time always does anyway. and being lonely with you is still being with you in the first place.
satoru sank into the empty bath, letting his body fold as he lay across the width of it. he sighs heavily and smiles, closing his eyes. his drama was unsurprising–all you can do is shake your head and take his place on the edge of the bath.
he peers up at you.
“selfish, huh?” 
you place your hand on his knee, thumbing over where it bends as a way to soothe him.
“mhm, why not?”
satoru tilted his head back, just barely, looking up at the bathroom fan as he tried to think about what to say next.
“i’d like to stay like this for a bit longer,”
you smile warmly at him.
“in the bath? clothed like this?”
it wasn’t about the empty bath. or the clothes he was wearing. just like how it wasn’t about him learning about your skincare routine. it was never about the stories of his students, or the way you always checked in on megumi. nor was it about how you took all of his clothes when you were cold, knew how he liked his coffee in the morning, or the way he made sure the bed was nice and warm before you joined him there.
it was so much more in so much less. in his worst moments, he was in a warm bed with you, hearing you talk about your refreshingly mundane day as you drew a nonsensical pattern on his chest.
everything he was came from what he could provide, right? that’s how it always was.
what he inherited preceded his name, his personality, and everything nuanced about him. nearly everyone in his life cared more about his ability than anything else about him. he’s convinced people knew his technique more than they knew his favorite color. the music he liked. his favorite food. trivial things overshadowed by what he could provide. 
but the only thing he had to provide to you was love.
to you, who he was came from what he could provide. and that was pure, warm love.
he was matching pajamas, two cups of coffee waiting to be filled, two toothbrushes sitting together on the counter. he was the seat warmer that he always turned on for you when you rode in the passenger seat, along with the playlist he made with songs you listened to together.
it was refreshing. 
with you, he wasn’t satoru gojo. not the strongest, not gojo-sensei, not a special grade sorcerer. 
he was him. and it was always enough for you. 
satoru when you were doubled over from another lame joke he told, begging him to stop making you laugh so hard.
baby when he had a particularly hard day at work, holding onto your body on the couch like detaching from it would kill him.
sweetie when he was being ridiculous, dramatic, and over-the-top, watching a smile tug at your lips as he intentionally got on your nerves when you tried to hide it.
honey when you didn’t feel well, and he got to spoil you more than you’d ever let him before.
among a million other things. but never what you expected of him. 
most importantly, and his favorite, was when you called him love. is that what you really saw him as? it made him melt. the jujutsu world hardened him, but you turned a blind eye to that. it was enough to make him fall in love every day all over again.
what a privilege, he thought, to be so calloused and still love.
“yeah, in the bath like this,” he muttered.
you slid in next to him, folding your body too so the two of you were sitting in the cold, empty bath with your legs sticking out of the side.
“well, i’ll join you then, love”
there it was. he hummed contently. 
satoru felt like for a majority of his life, he felt like he had to search for his other half. seemingly, he was whole all along.
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all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.
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cinnamostar · 5 months
Text
seven dates to fall in love
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part two. part three. part four.
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 4.3k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, they;re each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!
a/n : this is part one of a possible mini series! not sure how many parts this will be, but let me know what you think <33!! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated. this is supposed to be an uncomfortable read so i hope i got the vibe down LMAO this is also more to set the scene/story so not much going on in this part...
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Tears rolled down your cheeks as Hyunjin cupped your face, lips trembling as your doe eyes looked into Hyunjin’s. His hands gently rested on your cheek, his palms cool to the touch in contrast to your warm tears. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as his thumb gently caressed your cheek in an attempt to soothe your broken heart, yet his eyes lacked any emotions, no love to be found behind his cold, dark eyes. His body was stiff and uncomfortable, his movements almost robotic as he tried to lean closer to your face, yet all you could do was roll your eyes and sigh, as you braced yourself for what was next.
“Cut!” yelled the director furiously, a frown painted on his face, “This is ridiculous! We are never going to finish filming if you two can’t act out a simple kiss scene with each other.”
Hyunjin and you instantly jumped away from each other, not missing the chance to glare at the other as the director chastised you both.
“You two are amazing actors, that’s why I picked you both for these roles, I’ve seen you both act these kinds of scenes before, but my god, do you two lack chemistry,” ranted the director, his face reddening in frustration, “I get you two don’t like each other, but your entire job is to act like it for a bit. If you guys can’t solve this, then one of you is getting kicked off the project and being replaced.”
The last sentence caused you both to snap your heads towards him, eyes widened in disbelief as you scoffed, “It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to fucking act properly! He’s the one who is messing up the scenes,” pointing your finger accusingly towards Hyunjin.
Hyunjin crossed his arms defensively, venom lacing his words as he spat with incredulity, “Me? Please, I should be getting paid more for having to pretend to be in love with that face of yours.”
You turned to Hyunjin once more, your hands balling into a fist as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were quickly cut off, “Save it, I don’t have time to listen to your childish arguments anymore. I will give you guys one week to figure this out, and if you are not able to get through this scene, consider it over for one of you,” promptly spoke the director before turning to the crew, “Everyone, go home. We’ll come back in a week from now and hopefully we will have something to work with.”
As everyone began to shuffle off set, you stomped your way to the dressing room, wanting nothing more to get away from Hyunjin at that moment as a rageful fire burned inside of you. You slammed the door open as you slumped in your seat, seething as you remembered Hyunjin’s words and how unlucky you were that he had to be your costar. You sighed as your manager entered right after you, a serious look taking over his features, “Y/N…”
“I know, I know!” you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands out of frustration, “I know a lot rides on this project and I promise I am trying my best to work with him, but he makes it so difficult too!”
Your manager, Chan, gave you a sympathetic look while shaking his head, “Well, you two are going to need to get over your differences somehow. This will look really bad for you if you get kicked off and you will be less likely to get any other roles in the future,” he murmured, “I will… talk to Hyunjin’s manager and see if we can figure something out, okay?”
You removed your hands from your face, your apologetic eyes meeting Chan’s, “I’m sorry, he just really knows how to get under my skin.”
“It’s alright, we’ll work something out. I’m not letting you lose this opportunity,” he promised before stepping out of the room, presumably to meet Hyunjin’s manager.
Sighing once more, you recalled the day you met Hyunjin on the set of another project two years ago. Initially, you both seemed to get along really well with each other and had great chemistry on camera, as you each were playing two side characters that had a small romance flourishing in the film. Yet, somewhere along the line, your relationship with Hyunjin soured out of nowhere, him suddenly being cold with you and making snide remarks every chance he had. It created such an uncomfortable work environment, you almost considered dropping acting altogether, afraid to encounter other similar characters like him. Luckily, Chan had convinced you otherwise, reassuring you he would do everything in his power to avoid any projects with him in it and also insisting your talents would go to waste if you let one guy ruin it all. Besides, you loved acting and you were slowly making your dreams come true. Why would you ever let Hyunjin of all people ruin it for you?
Ever since then, you despised Hyunjin due to his treatment of you and whenever you did have the misfortune of running into him, you did your best to keep it curt and cordial, never lingering around too long. He seemed to be on the same page as you, but the look on his face spoke of every nasty thought he was holding back on, and you hated him for it.
And while Chan did hold up on his end of his promise, it all came crashing down at this latest project. This was an offer neither you or Hyunjin could resist, especially when the writers, producers, and director personally approached both your managers and offered the role to you directly, plopping the opportunity right in your lap. The writers really wanted you both to be the leads, believing you two were perfect for the roles and had even seen that one film project you and Hyunjin did years ago, which unfortunately set their expectations extremely high, which led to the disaster you two are currently in.
It was impossible to say no to them, especially when they went out their way to contact you, and the script was great, it seemed like something you would have so much fun filming it, yet Hyunjin was quick to suck out all the joy from it.
You tried, you really tried to be as professional as possible with Hyunjin, and filming went pretty well the first few days. In fact, it may have gone a little too well that you both left the entire staff speechless after filming an argument scene between the two main characters. So much so, that the director applauded at how real you two were able to portray the scene, even bringing him to tears as he beamed proudly at you two, assuring him that he had made the perfect casting decision. Little did anyone know, you and Hyunjin’s scripted argument was not acting at all, but was a reflection of how you felt about each other. The rageful yelling, the resentful expressions, the improvised insults, and emotions were all entirely real - there was no need for acting when you both loathed one another.
Once it was time to finally start filming the romantic elements, the prospects of this being the next greatest show was squandered instantaneously by the painful awkwardness between you and Hyunjin. And to be honest, it was mostly Hyunjin who was tripping up during these scenes, making anyone who witnessed his weak attempts of being romantic with you cringed due to how much he struggled to even look at you and treat you like a person. Every now and then, you’d find yourself breaking character, but for the most part you were able to get through your lines pretty convincingly. Although, for some reason, Hyunjin was having an incredibly difficult time completing most of his lines and struggled keeping that abhorrent scowl off his face. Yet, even though you had managed to do quite well, you were also being punished by Hyunjin’s ineptitude. 
How on Earth was this supposed to all be resolved in one week? This was a two year long feud that was not simply going to disappear over the course of the week, but you knew both of you were too competitive to let this project go. Somehow, it would just have to work out, but it was a matter of how. As you lost yourself in thought, the door to the room opened once more with a nervous Chan standing at the entrance.
You raised your eyebrows in concern as you examined Chan’s anxious body language, “What happened?”
He gently closed the door behind me, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “So… I talked to the producers and Hyunjin’s manager…”
You nodded your head, encouraging him to continue, “Okay, go on. What did they say?”
“They’re really upset and disappointed, as they had really high expectations and now they've decided that they’ll just replace both of you if next week doesn’t go well.”
“What?!” You jumped from your seat in shock, no longer having the possible safety of remaining on the project to back you up.
“And I don’t think I need to tell you how much worse this will be for both your public images,” Chan spoke nervously, almost as if he was dreading to share the rest of the conversation with you, “So, Changbin and I spoke, and as both your managers, we think you two need to do something to get over this bump.”
Your eyes narrowed as you tried to decode Chan’s words, “Uh huh, which means what exactly…?”
“You’re really not going to like this, I’m really sorry, I tried to think of other solutions, b-”
“Please, Chan, just spit it out already.”
Chan sighed, “Well, Changbin and I think the best way you guys can learn to recreate that kind of romantic chemistry is by, well… going on dates this next week? You know, learn to get used to being romantic with each other so it's easier to act it out on camera.”
Your jaw dropped as your eyes bored into Chan’s as annoyance made its way into your body, “No, absolutely not! I want nothing to do with that man, that sounds like a terrible idea!” you exclaimed, your face contorting into a frown as your voice grew louder.
Chan lifted his hands before him in an attempt to fan the flames of your anger, “Y/N, I know, I know, but this is the best we got for now! Do you have any other better ideas?”
Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you shook your head, “No, but… That just sounds like a week of pure torture!” you whined, Chan’s face dropping into an apologetic expression.
“Just promise me you will try your best? It’s only for a week, and then all you will have to do is get through the rest of filming.”
“I guess,” you grumbled, turning your back to Chan as you ran your hands through your hair, “Let’s just hope Hyunjin isn’t too much of a pain in the ass.”
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The next day rolled around as you waited outside of your apartment building with a miffed expression on your face, tapping your feet impatiently as you pulled out your phone to check the time. 
7:10pm.
Great, Hyunjin was now ten minutes late to pick you up for your first oh-so practice dates. You felt yourself grow angrier as the minutes passed, your veins burning hot as you contemplated going back inside and calling Chan to yell at him how this idea was never going to work, but before you could, a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to you. The window on the passenger side rolled down, revealing an upset Hyunjin in the driver’s side who called out to you, “Wow, don’t look too happy to see me. Get in.”
This only made your frown deepen as you rolled your eyes, opening the car door to take a seat, “Whatever. Couldn’t even open the car door for me, huh?” you slammed the door shut, crossing your arms as you looked ahead, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze.
He scoffed while putting the car in drive, “Now why the hell would I do that?”
“Aren’t you supposed to learn how to be all gentlemanly and shit? Isn’t this why we’re doing this?” you snapped, nails digging into your hands as you clenched them in an attempt to hold your anger in.
Hyunjin only shrugged, “Funny you think you deserve that treatment. Just shut up and let's get this over with.”
You held your tongue, resisting the urge to start another quarrel with him in this car ride to whatever restaurant Changbin reserved for you two. It was a 20 minute drive and you refused to waste your breath on some argumentative asshole, and reminded yourself that at the very least you’d be eating something delicious soon enough.The car ride was tense as neither of you dared to speak, especially after Hyunjin turned the music up to hide the deafening silence that hung in the air. As soon as you both arrived at the restaurant, you exited the car in a hurry, desperate for a breath of fresh air and some reprieve from the tension you just sat in. Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin strolled right ahead of you, not making any sort of effort to acknowledge your existence as he marched through the restaurant's front doors as soon as he exited the car, causing you to chase after him just to keep up with his long strides. Truthfully, it felt like Hyunjin was just trying to piss you off, and it was working.
Upon entering the building, you realized Changbin had definitely booked you guys an extremely upscale restaurant, which explains why he was so insistent on making sure you both dress formally. Everyone in here reeked of affluence, and while you and Hyunjin were able to afford these luxuries due to the success of your careers, you still couldn’t help but feel out of place. The other patrons were dressed similarly to you, but there was this extra layer of otherworldly riches radiating off of them. Perhaps it was their mannerism or the snobby, fake, business smiles exchanged amongst them, but something about this place was extremely unsettling.
Hyunjin approached the host with a polite smile, “Reservation for Hwang.”
The host nodded, retrieving two menus before standing in front of both of you, bowing “Mister and Mx. Hwang, please follow me this way.”
Your body physically recoiled with disgust and shock when you heard the host refer to you as Mx. Hwang, wanting to immediately correct him, yet you reminded yourself you were here on a date, so it would be best to try to immerse yourself into the role as much as you can for the sake of your career and the future of this current project. The host led you to your table, which was thankfully located in a more secluded corner of the restaurant, a small candle in the middle of it to help set the romantic mood.
You thank the host as you sat down, graciously taking the menu from his hand with a smile, which dropped into a glower as soon as the host left, “Are you not taking any of this seriously?”
Hyunjin pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the menu in his hand, “You expect me to take you seriously?”
Your jaw dropped, completely flabbergasted at his lack of concern over the situation he put you both in, “What the fuck is your problem?” you growled in a syncopated whisper, trying not to draw any attention to you, “Do you not care about the possibility of both of us losing our roles?”
Hyunjin let out another exasperated sigh, as if you were inconveniencing him, “I am trying to get through his evening with you without wanting to gouge my eyes out,” he dramatically plopped the menu down on the table, “I do care, of course I fucking care.”
“Then can you at least act like it?” you whispered angrily.
“Maybe if you would shut up-”
Before Hyunjin could finish his statement, the waiter came by with an excited and hospitable smile, “Hello, Mister and Mx. Hwang! I hope you both are having a lovely evening. I’ll be your server for the night, can I interest you guys in a bottle of wine before we get started with food?”
You smiled at the server, nodding your head, “Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful. We’ll take whichever one you recommend.”
The server nodded sweetly, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two of you, “Great! I’ll bring out one of the house favorites for you two to try, I’ll be back shortly.”
As soon as the server was out of earshot, you glared down at Hyunjin once more, gripping the menu in hand as your knuckles turned white, “I am going to pretend I didn’t hear you. Do you know what you’re going to order?” you asked, trying to at least make some sort of conversation with him.
Except, Hyunjin just hums a response as his eyes return to the menu, choosing to ignore your question as the chatter of other patrons fills the silence. You let out a heavy exhale, debating on whether you should reach over the table and slap him, play along with him, or continue trying for, once again, the sake of your careers. “Well, I’m going to get the filet mignon. I think it’ll pair nicely with the wine.”
Hyunjin continued to ignore you, now scrolling through his phone which caused your anger to boil up within you as you wondered how on Earth you were going to get through the rest of the night with any sort of progress. “Seriously, Hyunjin? Are you not even going to try?”
He looked up from his phone, an unamused look painting his features, “Please just shut the fuck up. It would make this night a whole lot more bearable if you knew how to keep your mouth shut.”
“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to f-”
“Alright, here you go,” the waiter returned with a cheery smile, setting down to glass cups while popping open a bottle of wine, “Are you two ready to order?” he beamed as he poured a healthy amount of wine in each of your glasses, and lord knows you need a drink right now.
“Ah, thank you,” you forced a courteous smile, “I’ll take the filet mignon, please.”
“Alright, and what about you, sir?”
“I’ll have the whole grilled snapper, thank you.”
“Perfect, I’ll have those out as soon as they’re ready.”
You felt yourself growing incredibly frustrated as time ticked by, unable to sit still in your seat due to the roaring fury you felt inside of you. You just could not understand why Hyunjin was so hateful towards you, you had no idea what caused him to behave this way with you and you were growing sick of it. Maybe you could confront him about it, but right now, you were way too riled up to even think of having that conversation with him. Your face was stuck in a permanent scowl as Hyunjin wore a blank expression, seemingly not caring about the circumstance you both were in. It floored you that Hyunjin wasn’t taking any of this seriously. He said he cared about the fact he was at risk of losing this role, yet his actions and attitude said otherwise. 
If looks could kill, Hyunjin would’ve been dead ten times over, yet as he looked up to meet your eyes, he returned your gaze with a humorless one, “You know, staring is rude.”
It was taking an exuberant amount of self control for you to hold it together, “I just can’t understand how you’re so relaxed about this. It’s like you want us both to get dropped from this project.”
“Like I said, I do care, but this whole arrangement isn’t so easy to do,” he said sternly, “You’re not even giving me the chance to get comfortable. You can’t just expect me to be able to act like we don’t hate each other. And pressuring me isn’t helping much either, is it?”
You bit the inside of the cheek, recognizing that Hyunjin wasn’t entirely wrong in how he was feeling. “I guess so,” was all you could manage to reply, not willing to give him the satisfaction that he was right. 
Once more, an uncomfortable, tense silence loomed over as you each waited for your food. You decided it was best to deal with this rather than forcing a conversation, perhaps it was best to let Hyunjin take the lead since he was the one struggling with this disaster. Despite the heavy atmosphere, you found your muscles slowly relaxing as time went on as your focus returned to the environment around you, how decadent each detail of the restaurant was and the false laughters of businessmen filled your ears. 
The waiter returned with both your meals in hand, grinning from ear to ear, “Alright, here’s the grilled snapper for you, sir,” he carefully laid the plate in front of Hyunjin before turning to you with a sweet smile, “And here’s the filet mignon for the beautiful Mx. Hwang.”
You noticed Hyunjin trying to hold back a teasing laugh at the waiter’s comment, even going as far to add, “They’re lovely, aren’t they?” But only you could see through the fakeness Hyunjin wore as the waiter politely agreed, causing you to kick Hyunjin hard in the shin from under the table. Hyunjin’s face winced as he thanked the waiter for the food before glaring at you, “What? You want us to act like a couple, but the moment I do something, you have a problem with it?”
You grumbled, annoyance lacing your voice, “Oh, shut up. You were being sarcastic, you asshole.”
“Oh, really? I would say our server didn’t have a clue, I’d say I’m a pretty good actor,” he smirked, picking up his fork and knife, “Let’s just enjoy our food, hm?”
You returned Hyunjin’s smirk with an insincere smile, “You’re right, it’s probably the only good thing that’ll come out this evening.” 
Hyunjin only hummed in agreement, choosing to ignore your comment as he dug into his food, you doing the same as the familiar tense silence enveloped you once more. In all honesty, this felt like it was going nowhere, it felt like this whole project was doomed from the very inception of it and Hyunjin’s stubbornness was only making this more difficult than it needed to be. The idea that you had to put your full trust and the fate of your career in someone else was too much, it was ridiculous, yet here you were, with the man you loathed the most having full control on whether this project would be a success or a blemish on your career. His lack of cooperation filled you with anxiety, yet you knew you had no choice. Patience wasn’t always your strong suit, but Hyunjin never failed to test it and you weren’t sure if you were going to survive this entire week if this was how every meeting was going to be like.
You were half way through your meal when Hyunjin cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts, “So, why did you take the project knowing I was going to be the male lead?”
You snorted at his question, “Could be asking you the same thing.”
“Well, I honestly took the role thinking you wouldn’t do it knowing it was me as the lead,” mumbled Hyunjin.
“Wow,” you stared at him with disbelief in your eyes, “You really thought I’d reject a hand delivered opportunity?” you let out a surprised laugh, “Besides, the script seemed fun. Just didn’t realize you’d be so impossible to work with.”
“I see,” responded Hyunjin as he continued to eat, causing you to raise your eyebrow, fully expecting a witty response from him in return. 
The rest of dinner went on without a word, that being the only exchange throughout the night. While it was not an enjoyable time, you and Hyunjin seemed to have agreed that the silence was far more welcomed than any bickering you two would engage in, preferring the uncomfortable peace over anything else. 
The car ride home went the same, no words other than the loud music that drummed over your incessant thoughts, anxiety crawling throughout you as you began to worry that maybe you were losing out on the biggest role of your career, all thanks to Hyunjin of all people. If this didn’t work out, this would make it impossible for you to find other roles in the industry, as rumors would inevitably spread about how difficult it was to work with you and Hyunjin. You couldn’t trust him one bit, you had no faith in him that he would be able to get over his own differences with you, ones that you still had no idea where they even spawned from. 
As soon as Hyunjin pulled up in front of your apartment, you left his car without a word, not even looking back before making your way up to your unit. You pulled out your phone as you unlocked the front door, stumbling as you dialed Chan’s number.
“Oh, Y/N! How did it go?”
“Chan, this isn’t going to work. We’re fucked.”
629 notes · View notes
milaisreading · 11 days
Text
Wedding day
Pairing: Itoshi Sae x Isagi's sister!Reader
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open
⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️
"Can you please calm down, sis? Everything will be fine." Yoichi said as he walked around the room after his sister. The older Isagi was panicking a little as she thought more and more about the whole wedding that was supposed to happen in an hour.
"You think?! Yoichi, what if I am not good enough? Sae is a literal football star and I am just-"
"The best sister and future wife. Exactly!" Yoichi quickly chimed in, annoyed that she had let the recent gossip on the internet get to her. While he did have sympathy for her, marrying a high profiled person lime Sae Itoshi wasn't nothing, he was also mad that she was doubting her own worth.
"Yoichi... You of all people know how the news are. They will nitpick on the most smallest things about me." (Y/n) sighed as she went over to sit on a chair in the room, Yoichi following close behind.
"What if they are right about me not being the one for Sae?"
"That's ridiculous! He loves you!" Yoichi argued again, but he knew it was useless. He wasn't Sae. The one whose opinion mattered the most right now.
"I don't know... What if I am just hindering him? There are so many better options than I am. Did you see all those models from Madrid who talk about him? What if I am not the one?"
(Y/n) held back a few sobs as Yoichi went to comfort her. He would be lying if he said he didn't expect the news to make such a huge deal out of the wedding. He did. But, seeing the state his sister was in just broke Yoichi. She didn't deserve all this stress now. Nor did Sae deserve to be doubted.
And, while Yoichi was comforting (Y/n), he didn't notice Rin peek into the room and catching some of the conversation the were having, and catching the distressed state (Y/n) was in.
'Shit!' The younger Itoshi thought as he slowly closed the door. He didn't expect to walk into all of that. While Sae was on cloud nine in his room, (Y/n) was over here distressed over some gossip.
'Wait? What gossip? Big brother never mentioned anything about that.' Rin wondered as he took his phone out to search for anything that remotely could mention either Sae or the wedding.
Meanwhile...
Sae was happily drinking the water Rin brought him earlier. The older Itoshi never expected to be excited over anything like a wedding. Well, he never saw himself marry anyone until he met (Y/n). The love of his life.
'Ahhh~ I am all excited for our future. I can't wait for us to finally tie the knot. Maybe even a few kids down the line, but that can wait for another few years. For now, I just want to enjoy my time alone with her.' Sae smiled softly and blushed, not hearing the footsteps approaching his room.
'My sweet (Y/n). She is so clumsy and cute. So adorable and always kind to me and others. I am so lucky to have found-'
"Big brother!"
Sae snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the door as Rin walked in, looking oddly nervous.
"What's up with you? You are more nervous than I am." Sae joked but Rin ignored him as he kept on glancing between his phone and the older.
"Well..."
"Anyway, how is (Y/n) doing? How does she look? Bet as stunning as ever. She is so adorable."
Sae went on a ramble and Rin knew he had to cut it out now before he went into an endless loop with it.
"I... There is something you need to see, and I think you won't like it."
Sae stopped and raised an eyebrow at Rin.
"What do you mean?"
"It's about (Y/n). You didn't read any of the news some of the Spanish and Japanese media reported?"
"No. Why would I? They mostly say dumb stuff, anyway."
"It might be dumb, but the stuff nearly has (Y/n) crying right now."
Sae froze up for a moment and quickly took the phone away from Rin.
The younger Itoshi was used to seeing a lot of emotions on Sae, but anger, genuine anger was not one of them. The more Sae read through the articles Rin had found, the redder his face became and the more his eyebrows furrowed.
'I would pray for the reporters, but they deserve whatever happens next.' Rin thought as an eerie silence took over.
----
Once Yoichi had left the room to let his sister cool down, (Y/n) had finally realized how ridiculous it was that she was crying about these things. After all, if Sae really didn't want her, he wouldn't have asked to marry her. Right?
'I need to have more faith in him, and also be less sensitive.' She thought as she put down her phone, not noticing Sae walk inside.
"Why didn't you tell me about those articles?"
(Y/n) yelped , and turned around to see Sae walk into the room and towards her.
"Sae! You shouldn't see me before-"
"I don't care. Rin said you were distressed over what those journalists were saying. Why didn't you tell me about it?"
For the first time since they started their relationship, (Y/n) was left speechless by the anger Sae was radiating. Sure, she was used to him being angry over what Shidou would say at times, or even when he would lose a game. But, this was a different type of anger. It was more genuine than the previous ones.
"Why?" Sae's voice got softer as he grapped her hands into his, causing (Y/n) to turn red a little.
"I thought it was stupid to bother you with that. It's just me being sensitive-"
"It's not. The stuff those idiots said about you is disgusting, and I will put an end to it on my next interview." (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Sae pulled her in closer.
"I thought you don't have one yet."
"I asked my manager the schedule me one after our honeymoon. As much as I hate going on these, this is a different circumstance."
"Oh? Thank you." (Y/n) said as she grew flustered, causing Sae to finally smile again and chuckle a little.
"Don't thank me for stuff like this. And, have a little more faith in me. I have my eyes only set on you."
"You are right, I an sorry. I know you do."
She smiled as the door opened again, revealing Sae and (Y/n)'s moms.
"Sar Itoshi! What did I say about seeing (Y/n) before the wedding?! And why did you make Rin guard the entrance?" Sae flinched at his mom's yelling as Rin could be heard apologizing to him from behind her. (Y/n) laughed a little as her mom tried to calm the other woman down, finding the whole situation equally amusing.
"Well, today is an eventful day." (Y/n) laughed, and Sae smiled at her.
'At least you calmed down.'
303 notes · View notes
papercorgiworld · 2 months
Text
Quite a long night
Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo
Enzo and Mattheo x reader
You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.
Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+
Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.
A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.
Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!
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Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.
It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.
When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.
***
Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.
***
You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.
You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.
You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.
You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.
He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.
As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”
Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.
“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.
Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you’ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.
“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.
Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.
Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.
Bonus?
Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”
Word count: 3414
Picture source Mattheo
Picture source Enzo
395 notes · View notes
izvmimi · 8 months
Text
stubborn - izuku x reader
cw: infidelity as a topic, escalating mind games, jealousy, tbh toxic behavior but it’s okay cuz uwu, fem!reader, smut (oral female receiving, use of the word ‘brat’, penetrative sex). 5.6k words. summary: izuku is as good at playing games as you are, or is he? a/n: a repost!
Izuku is far too placid when in the midst of an argument, you blurt out that you’re officially done with him. 
In fact, there’s the ghost of a smile that flickers on his features, and you know that smile. It’s the same smile he gives you when he teases you, especially when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re whining about how little more you can take while he coos and reminds you that you can give him just a little more room, the same way you’ve done many times before, right? 
It’s the smile that signals that he is in no way taking you seriously, that he knows you are completely and utterly wrapped. Your teeth clench and so do your fists.
“Midoriya.”
His eyebrows raise. From his vantage point, you look as cute as usual, eyebrows knit together and lips twisted into a snarl. It reminds him somewhat of an angry prey animal, he thinks, and he’s resisting the urge to pat you on the head.
“Yes, baby?”
He makes the mistake of widening his grin as he says this and defeated, you let out a cry of frustration, blood rushing to your ears and heart thumping as you rush out of the living room. There’s a loud slam that sounds once you’ve reached the bedroom and the hero is left alone to consider his actions. 
Izuku tolerates a lot from you, he thinks. It doesn’t mean he thinks he’s always right and does manage to begrudgingly accept his shortcomings, but the jealousy, the mood swings, and the neediness can sometimes get to him, even if they’re flaws you wear cutely. Giving you a moment to simmer down and letting the argument replay in his head, he lets out a sigh and settles on the couch to take off his boots. If you were out here, you’d complain about getting his sweaty suit off your furniture, but you’re not here, are you?
Izuku doesn’t think too much of the situation until he’s fully showered and knocks on the door to change into comfortable pajamas, only to find that the door is unlocked, you are laying on your stomach with your feet kicking, positively giddy, and in deep focus on your phone. Thinking that the argument has dissipated - you’re never mad at him for more than a couple hours anyway - he lets himself approach and decides against laying his entire weight on top of you, instead choosing to lay behind you, eyes on your form. You’re pretending you don’t even notice him.
“What’s got you giggling so much?” He finally asks, curiously turning to the side and resting his head on your shoulder. You don’t move sharply, instead allowing yourself to support the weight.
“I’m finding my replacement.”
He holds in a sigh that nearly rattles his bones.
“You can’t be serious.”
At that, you turn immediately, eyes wide, classic crazy look in your eyes. He purses his lips. 
You are definitely serious.
Before he can even begin to reason you, you excitedly show your phone to him, scrolling through a list of matches you’ve already procured for him, despite the fact that you could not possibly have been working on this for more than an hour.
“You’re quite popular, Mr. Number One Hero!” you chirp.
He rolls onto his back and grabs a pillow and screams lightly into it for a moment, before turning back to face you calmly. 
“Please delete this.”
“Why? I have three dates lined up for you over the next two weeks.” You pout. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint these lovely women, would you, Mr. Midoriya?”
There’s a nervous tick in his jaw at the polite appellation but he can see the glint in your eyes. Two can play this game.
“You’re right, and I trust you, darling,” he says, lips curling into a teasing grin. He rolls over onto his belly, pulling off the small towel that wraps around his waist and tosses it to the side, a motion that engages the muscles of his back just enough that you can pretend you don’t see them ripple. You try not to look at his ass because you’re angry. You are so, so angry.
“Give me the schedule and I’ll go. I don’t think they’ll manage to be as lovely as you, but I’ll try my best.” His green eyes twinkle as he watches you not look, then places a hand on the small of your back, and the contact almost shocks through your spine. 
You get up immediately and leave the room, ignoring his low chuckle as you hide the warmth blooming in your face.
Midoriya cannot believe he’s actually seated at a mom and pop restaurant at the end of the week with a woman he’s never met in his entire life. You had actually called his bluff at calling your bluff, and had even gone so far as to lay out his clothes in the morning and adjust the collar of his shirt.
“Can we not do this?” He had asked right before leaving the house. You’d simply smiled sweetly, venomously. 
“Real love awaits, sir!” You flashed him a thumbs up and the genuine way in which your teeth gleamed almost struck fear in his heart. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”
His entire way to the location, he had been considering what manner of trap this was. Would there be cameras? Kirishima, who was like an older brother to you waiting to beat his ass (even though he wasn’t completely sure what he did wrong and arguably may have done nothing wrong aside from being extraordinarily busy for the past two weeks)?
But alas, rather than a trap, or you in a different outfit, there was an admittedly beautiful young woman who smiled shyly back at him as he took his seat.
The first thing he does is tell the truth.
“Hi, um, yeah so…” he scratches his head. “Let me explain a couple things first before there’s any misunderstanding…” 
His voice trails off as he notices the slight distress in her features, but decides it’s better to hurt her feelings now than later.
“I was not the one managing my Tinder profile. Whatever may have been said to you was not said by me and-”
She nods emphatically and he stops. “Wait, you know what I’m about to say?”
“Yeah, your profile says it’s managed by your ex-girlfriend and we chatted a bit through messages.”
There’s a little bit of heat that reaches his ears, not pleasant heat at all, but mild irritation. He presses his lips together as she continues.
“She said something about wanting to make sure she set you up with someone better than her since you won’t accept your breakup.”
Izuku’s eye twitches but he smiles peacefully and takes a sip of his coffee.
“She said you were a very sweet guy though so I’m assuming you’re on good terms?” The young lady laughs coyly, a hand covering her mouth as she does. Coquettish, he thinks, then he remembers how you literally said you’d set him up with someone cute and coquettish and his heart starts to race.
“We’re on excellent terms,” he says finally, breathing through his nose, then takes a look at the menu. 
She giggles a bit and it annoys him because none of this is funny. Not for a second.
“She chose really good pictures,” the woman says softly, who Izuku recalls from the schedule you had the nerve to send him is named Sachiko, reaching for her glass of water. Izuku mirrors the action because his throat is suddenly terribly dry.
He clears his throat. You’ve gone too far.
“What would you like to order?” Izuku asks in his most charming voice.
“You didn’t take her home?” You ask, voice dripping of malice, curled up into the bedsheets of your California King. He considers shooting you a dirty look but he doesn’t; rather he strips painfully slowly and again you avert your eyes. This time he doesn’t laugh at your ridiculous attempt to pretend you don’t find him attractive, and instead, he stands stark naked in his underwear, arms crossed and feet squared as though you are an actual adversary. Maybe you enjoy being the villain in his story for once. 
You look up from your book, noticing his stillness in your peripheral vision. He looks good when he’s angry, you think, his face twisted into a scowl and breathing a little heavier than usual. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, then bid him to speak.
“What?” 
He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s really saying what he has to say next.
“First of all, I don’t fuck on the first date.” You tilt your head ever so slightly with a mock inquisitive look that bids him to go on.
“Don’t look at me like that, if I did, we absolutely would have,” he replies flippantly. You pretend to disregard that sentence. Then it hits you. We, as in you and him or we as in, he and her?
“Second of all, you’re going to regret this. Good night,” he insists before finding his way beside you in bed. You dramatically scoot over to the very edge of the bed, but he’s annoyed enough that his back is turned to you. 
Good, you think, and turn the page in your book. The plot thickens deliciously.
Izuku doesn’t bother explaining himself on the date the following week. Rather, he treats it like a business meeting and speaks politely, diverting any flirty comments to other topics. He wishes you hadn’t picked such an expensive restaurant but the truth was, the food was good enough to match the price. 
The woman today is not Sachiko - while Sachiko was petite and sold the moe angle quite well, Natsumi was a bit more direct and businesslike. Still, not quite like you and frankly a little bit too talkative. According to you, who were having the time of your life swiping right and left with his likeness, Sachiko had wanted a second date, but any time you broached the subject, he simply refused to respond and you, despite all of your ability to push buttons know when to stop. Now faced with Natsumi who was giving him his life story and testing his patience while he was trying to get through his Hamburg steak, he realized Sachiko might have been better.
“So why did you and your ex break up?”
Izuku swallowed another piece of meat quickly.
“We did not.”
Natsumi gave him a quizzical look.
“So why are you on a date with me?”
“To indulge her.”
Natsumi leans back in her chair then picks at her fingernails.
“Wow, you really are in denial, like she said.”
In Izuku’s eyes, this date is even more over than it was when it began.
When he comes home this time, you are talking and laughing animatedly on the phone to your mother as you cook a late dinner for yourself and rather than interrupt your conversation, he slips past you and puts the entrée he’d gotten for you in the front of the fridge.
You give him a glance then look away. Your mouth twists to the side, now that you realize you’re testing more than a little of his patience.
When you finally hang up the phone and put away your hot food to reheat the one he’s brought back for you, you ask in a small voice:
“Did you enjoy the food?”
He’s staring at the TV, looking without looking, and you can see that muscle in his jaw again tense before he turns to face you.
“It was delicious.”
You poke at the plate in front of you and concur. The food really is heavenly. Maybe you should pull back. It’s very clear that this man has no intention on breaking up with you and you can’t even remember what you were even mad about. There’s still a date left but canceling it with a 5 days notice isn’t the worst thing you can do. Your boyfriend has clearly learned his lesson, you think.
Then he says,
“Hey, can you arrange a second date for Sachiko? I’d like to see her again.”
And then rage consumes you again.
“Of course,” you say sweetly.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again!” Sachiko exclaims. Izuku had watched her run towards him, beaming smile accentuated by the bright winter sun’s rays reflected by the snow. Her cheeks are red and she looks as though she is blowing smoke, huffing and puffing as she catches her breath. She’s dressed for the weather, and so is he, and he notices the thick gloves that she’s wearing. His own hands are bare.
An ice skating date.
You must actually be prepared to lose him at this point.
Sachiko grins widely and Izuku, looking down at her again now that she is right next to him, realizes she really is cute. Not cuter than you, he wouldn’t go that far, but cute enough.
She doesn’t know how to ice skate and stays very close, and Izuku lets her cling onto his sleeve, then eventually hold his hand.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
The phrase ran through your head over and over again, and had been the first thing you thought of when you reread her message for the third, the fourth, and the fifth time. 
Hi, I hope this isn’t weird but I just wanted to thank you.
(I hope it’s not you, Izuku, ‘cause that would be awkward! 😊)
I wanted to let you know that it must be hard to give up your partner, especially when they seem so nice! But I’m grateful. We’ll be texting privately from now on! 
Maybe we can be friends someday? I’d like to meet you in person too!
You swallow hard for a moment, reading the message again and again and again.
Texting privately. The familiar use of his name. It was two dates only. Why was she so confident? Why was she thanking you?
You found yourself thumbing through her profile again, really scrutinizing her again, taking particular care to commit her soft features to memory and the warm demeanor you could see through her many photos.
You swallowed hard again.
Did you mess up? Did you finally push too hard?
The sound of the door opening suddenly startled you enough that you ended up dropping your phone in the bowl of the bathroom sink. Izuku, appearing behind you suddenly as he turned into the bathroom to check looked you up once up and down and muttered a soft greeting. 
“You okay?”
Maybe you were imagining it, but the timbre of his voice was less Izuku and more Deku, the Hero, who asked everyone if they were okay. Who belonged to everyone. Or maybe really not everyone, just not you.
Despite your throat feeling as though it would close up, you nod. He says nothing more and suddenly you wish you could take it all back.
Two weeks have passed since your declaration of singlehood akin to a declaration of war, and just a few days since Sachiko thanked you for handing over the love of your life on a platter. Unwilling to admit that you regret your game, you resort to not speaking to him at all - at least not more than to reply to his good morning or his good night. You can feel him shift gently in the middle of the night, sometimes to face you, and you wonder if he’ll put his arm around your waist and nuzzle his chin in the crook of your shoulder, but he stops short and you’re left wanting, regretting. Now you start to make arrangements. Where will you go once you officially break up rather than theoretically? This is his apartment after all. Should you tell your mother so she’s not surprised when you turn up at her doorstep and she can’t call him her future son-in-law?
You’re not sure what your endgame was, but whatever this is, you don’t like it.
So you do what you do best. Make do with what is presented to you.
Izuku doesn’t say a word once he leaves your home just before noon, leaving you to quietly attend to work-related affairs as you type on your computer. From the calendar on the refrigerator, you’re reminded he has a midday shift 12-10pm, but still a part of you wonders if he’ll sneak off at any point to meet Sachiko. Why wouldn’t he? You’re broken up after all. 
Sachiko is so cute you would date her if you had the chance. You really did choose far too well.
You can’t focus on work anymore, you decide after staring at a blank screen for the next hour. Your head is pounding and your throat, although it no longer wants to close up, is dry and water isn’t fixing it. There’s a crick in your neck and a tenseness in your shoulders that Izuku would have massaged out for you if you weren’t locked in battle for days on end. 
So you make a profile for yourself. Is it desperation for validation now that suddenly all your inadequacies are brought to light or fear of losing? Whatever it is, you are very lucky, because you’ve arranged a date for just a few hours from now. 
You cannot, will not, spend the night in an empty house.
Izuku’s hands are fidgety, enough that his patrol partner notices the incessant tapping of his foot and the repeated running of his hands through his hair.
“You okay there, man?” 
“Yeah.”
It’s not like he can say No, actually, my girlfriend’s phone is unreachable and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s mad at me or because something actually happened to her, but if I’m wrong about danger, it will only make our already terrible relationship worse.
His partner tonight is a non-UA alum who is new to the city and initially came in excited to work with the great Midoriya only to run into someone whose naturally charismatic Hero smile now carries an undercurrent of moderate unease. The two however continue to roam the district in a predetermined path, making sure to detect any suspicious activity as it may come up. This particular area is known for its elevated nightlife and particularly rich patrons. There’s a Michelin 3-star restaurant whose reservations are hotly contested that he spots along his path as he walks, and he remembers he’d considered it among others for your eventual engagement, if you ever made it there at this point. 
The fact that Sachiko has texted him three times today grates on his nerves and he wishes he had never given her his number, even though he continues to reply politely. He looks down to mute the text thread, and as he looks up, he sees you.
And his blood runs cold. 
You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on a first date. You do remember that you’re supposed to feel somewhat jittery - you remember being this way when you first went on a date with your soon-to-be ex - but your nerves aren’t firing in all directions in a pleasant, pure sort of way.
What exactly are you trying to prove? You wonder as you stride carefully, one heeled step before the other on the cobbled street, a handsome stranger by your side. You march unevenly, and you can tell he wants to reach over and help you, but your body is sufficiently frigid that he keeps a polite distance away. 
Until you accidentally trip and he steadies you with a gentle grip of the hand.
“Hold on to me,” he asks. Yoshi’s smile is pleasant and reassuring, a little like Izuku. He’s not as tall and not as broad, but he’s pleasant to look at. 
“Thank you,” you say, gingerly allowing your hand to settle on his outstretched elbow. It doesn’t feel right but you tell yourself it’s natural to feel that way, considering you only started talking this afternoon. 
Yoshi isn’t a complete stranger though - you learn he works in another division at your company and you have mutual friends. It had just turned out that he had gotten stood up for his intended date today despite having had reservations for a month, so you might as well have taken the opportunity to go to such an exclusive eatery.
“I forgot to tell you you looked breathtaking,” he says once you’ve moved closer to him, and you can’t help but to smile first, then feel disgusted that you’re letting another man compliment you.
“You look quite nice yourself,” you reply nevertheless.
The queue to the entrance is several couples and groups long despite your reservation so you check in first before heading over to a waiting area until you get called.
You do get called from behind before you even get to sit, but it’s not by the restaurant.
“Fancy seeing you here!”
You freeze. Of course. What did you think would happen?
There are two things that run through your head. Either you can pretend you didn’t hear his voice and keep walking, and you know damn well he would not allow himself to be ignored or you could turn and risk a very public argument or-
He chooses for you.
Izuku is in front of the two of you now, grinning far too wide, far too poisonously. For once your heart is actually racing, and you remember that despite how soft he’s been with you, he’s actually quite large and obviously strong and the fact that he’s barely concealing the fact that he’s genuinely upset at you as he looks you up and down, fists clenched by his side and knuckles white as chalk, means that he could be unpredictable.
“It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” he says, with a tinny laugh. Your eyes widen as you look to him then to your date who looks genuinely confused as to why this Hero is unkindly interrupting his date out of the blue.
“Hey, um-”
Deku flashes a smile at you that doesn’t reach his eyes then looks back at Yoshi.
“The two of you look like a lovely couple! Are you waiting for this restaurant?” He says, pointing to the entrance. “It’s a great restaurant! I personally like one of their pasta dishes myself and had been meaning to take my girlfriend here for a while but we just haven’t gotten the chance to-”
Yoshi, bold enough that even you’re taken aback, has the nerve to take your wrist gently and pull you a little behind him - a move that is not lost on Izuku and your blood chills because Izuku finds himself holding back a chuckle.
“Can I help you?” Yoshi asks, clearly annoyed.
You start to move instinctively but Izuku’s placed a hand on Yoshi’s shoulder and proceeds to pat it. He leans in ever so slightly to clear the height difference between them, staring him directly in the eyes, and you hold your breath. It’s clearly a challenge and you pray that neither of them take the bait. 
You can see Yoshi move to shrug the shoulder off but he’s forced into place and now the confusion on his features is even more intense. You can nearly cut the tension in the air with a knife but then you hear the other young man approaching.
It’s Izuku’s partner who has finally caught up, and the sound of Deku’s name being called from afar as he approaches seems to snap Izuku back into the reality of the situation. Some of the pounding in his temples clears and he tries not to look at you, patting your date on the shoulder.
“Stay safe out there and don’t stay out too late,” He offers. There’s still an edge to his voice and his hand and eyes linger but eventually he lets it trail off. The warning is for you specifically. 
Your face is hot and you’re thoroughly embarrassed but that’s the least of your concerns right now. Your stomach twists into a knot.
Your table is called.
When you finally slip back into your apartment, it’s a couple minutes to midnight and you are Cinderella fleeing back home to where the magic wears off.
The lights are on and Izuku is staring holes into the front door as you come in - he almost startles you when you slip off your shoes and turn to find him sitting at the kitchen table, facing in your direction. 
A small gasp leaves your throat.
He cocks his head to the side.
“What? Do I scare you?” His voice is somewhat gruff as though he’s waking up from sleep, low, and makes your heart pound.
You open your mouth, then close it. There’s not really much you can say at this point. You literally went on a date without his knowledge. You expected a fight when you came back, especially given how obviously angry he was just a couple of hours ago. 
You push and you push and you push and you don’t really know why you’re pushing.
And then you remember why. Sachiko.
“No,” you reply, moving forward in bare feet on wooden flooring, and dropping off your apartment keys in a shared bowl on the counter. You purse your lips and try not to engage him but wonder how long he’s been waiting for you, hunched forward on his elbows, pressing his fingertips together. There’s an untouched glass of wine besides him, and he rarely drinks.
“How was your date?” he spits.
You stop for a moment, his tone sinking in, and you selectively hear anger instead of the pang of rejection. You whip around to face him, the metal on your purse strings making the action unnecessarily loud. 
“It was great, actually! How’s Sachiko?!”
You didn’t mean to raise your voice but you did nevertheless. 
“Who..,” he starts, but his eyes widen, seething. “You sent me on that date.”
“That doesn’t mean you can fuck her!”
Izuku lets out a groan but his scowl softens to a frown once he sees the tears in your eyes despite his still tightly clenched fists.
“I did not, first of all. I deleted her number hours ago. We literally never met after the dates YOU arranged. Meanwhile you’re prancing around, hanging off some random dude’s arm, and what am I supposed to do? Accept it? What the fuck do I look like to you,___?”
You don’t have a response to that. How easy can it be to tolerate your mood swings? You were never done with him. You don’t want to be done with him. Of course he laughed at you when you said it, because it was obviously not true.
But you just want to feel heard so badly sometimes.
There’s a bit of silence as the two of you stand across from each other, your tears streaming down your face.
“Come here,” Izuku murmurs.
“No,” you mutter. He sighs as he follows you into the bedroom you disappear to, and watches you carefully as you sit down on the edge of the bed. You’re clearly still unsettled, but by now he can tell that you are no longer angry but confused as to what to do next. What comes after this mess?
“Did you fuck him?” Izuku asks in a quiet voice.
“Obviously not,” you quip, crossing your arms not out of self-defense but for self-soothing.
“Did you kiss him?” His voice is tentative as though he dreads the answer. His palms open and he flexes his fingers but he crosses the distance towards you on the bed.
“No.”
He pauses again, then kneels down before you. There’s a hand that finds its way onto the side of your cheek tenderly, turning your face so that you face him, and him only.
“I’m done fighting with you,” he finally decides. “Open your legs.”
Your face twists into surprise, but he dives deep, pulling up the bottom of your dress to your waist. He plants several kisses on your thighs, then waits for you to part your legs for him - he’s not going to tell you twice - before pressing his nose on the wet spot forming on your panties.
He breathes in and the inhale of your scent runs through his whole body, enough that you shudder yourself.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he says and your face warms. His calloused hands grip firmly, but not roughly, on the skin of your legs and push you open even further to accommodate his broad shoulders - you lean back onto your elbows as he slips two fingers under the crotch, and tears them apart with a snap.
“‘Zuku!” You hiss. Those panties aren’t your best ones but you still liked them.
He doesn’t reply and rather hastily, penetrates you with his tongue, and you squeal his name again, relishing in the thick muscle exploring your folds and the harsh grasp of his fingertips as he keeps you still. 
“B-baby… ah!”
He’s sharp and precise, because you’ve loved him long enough and he’s loved you long enough to know exactly what you need. You don’t tip but you careen over the pleasure of his tongue working your folds and your clit and your soft center, whining as pressure builds in your lower belly. 
“S-stop, it’s…” your breath falters, “I d-don’t deserve…”
He stops briefly with a kiss, then looks up at you, mulling over the words he needs to say to this woman who causes him so much trouble. 
He decides on the following:
“You’re right. You don’t deserve it, not right now, so I’m punishing you,” he finally teases. There’s a half grin on the slick covered lower half of his face and your eyes widen at the sight of his glistening skin. He lifts your ass gently and slaps it hard enough that your breath catches, the pain searing up and down your leg. You gasp, and he grabs a handful of your ass cheek, rubbing it to mull over the sensation. 
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” He hisses. His body presses over you, pushing one of your bent legs against your chest as he continues to squeeze at the fat of your bottom. You nod and he kisses you. 
“Simply awful.”
Another spank comes and you’re nearly blinded in pain and he dips down, biting at your lip. 
“I indulge you far too much, don’t I?” His teeth tug gently and release, and then he motions for you to pull your arms up. You’re sure if you don’t hurry up, he’ll rip it to shreds. 
The dress comes off and so does your breasts out of your bra and into his cupped hands. Sucking, biting at your nipples, leaving marks - it’s desperate and possessive and you wonder what would have happened if you had really taken Yoshi or whatever his name was seriously, and really pushed your Izuku to the brink. 
“I’m s-sorry,” you choke out eventually through sighs and then sobs. Izuku rolls you onto him, clasping his arms around your waist as you straddle him, playing with your breasts as you roll against him. The rhythm is new and hasty, but some of the fundamentals are the same. You know his body and he knows yours. He sucks at your neck and you nip at his earlobes - your fingers twist into his curls and he pulls at your hair. Kiss after kiss after kiss.
“I’m sorry, too,” he murmurs into your neck. His strong arms still enclose you and you’re settled onto his cock. There’s a soft groan as he presses upwards into you and some of you collapses into him, but he rolls his hips as you cling to his chest and you’re in a rhythm yet again.
“You make me crazy but I’m sorry.”
You can only whimper something unintelligible back as you suck up every inch of him, even your walls clinging tightly and desperately to his body inside yours. Your fingers curl into fists, laying against his chest and he uses a hand to pull it before him and kiss your knuckles.
“I’m awful,” you moan, crying into his chest.
“I shouldn’t have teased you,” he insists.
He flips over and you find yourself under him, and he interlaces his fingers with yours above you. Green locks graze gently atop your forehead as he stares into your eyes.
“I love you,” you say first.
“I love you too,” Izuku replies. He stirs into you more, letting the pressure of his weight comfort you as he strokes deeply, then rises up on his elbows to pick up his pace.
“Promise you’ll never leave,” you beg him before he begins. His hands press onto yours and pin you down and he kisses at your belly, then up to your lips.
“You can’t get rid of me,” he laughs.
“Even when I’m shitty enough to try?”
He pauses, dips down to press his forehead against yours. His lips graze above yours again. 
“Even when I’m angry enough to fight back, I won’t leave you.”
Reassured, you rock your hips against his and he takes it as an invitation to speed up. His strokes are fast and deep and tender - with every plunge you fall deeper in love with him, as does he. You push back but gently, resisting every strong movement with a clench of your thighs against him.
“You feel fucking amazing,” he insists, and you can his voice lowers. “Fucking amazing, baby, fucking-”
It’s his tell - he holds on to you desperately and you can feel yourself tense up as your coil snaps and sharp jets of cum spurt at your cervix, coating you thick and full. He shudders as he comes, heavy body shrouding you in a warm comfort.
He’s never leaving and neither are you.
No matter how many games you play.
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nejiverse · 6 months
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WHAT DOES JOGO HAVE THAT I DONT?
Sukuna, Choso, Gojo
In which you ask the boys this exact title. Fem! Reader
cw: a bit suggestive in sukuna and gojo’s part
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613 words
"Sukuna, what does Jogo have that I don't?", you asked as you followed closely behind the king of curses and made sure not to trip over any rubble littered across the streets of Shibuya.
"What are you blabbering about this time woman", he rolled his eyes.
"Like do you have a thing for volcanoes or something? I mean love don't judge but I sure as hell do. That's weird Sukuna", you came up to his side, crinkling up your nose to show your disgust.
He narrowed his eyes and before you could even process what was going on, he had your cheeks squished together in his hand, his nails grazing your skin which was sure to leave crescent like indents.
"Who are you calling weird?".
You laughed and shrugged your shoulders. "Forget I said anything", your words came out muffled.
"And on that note, why d—", his hand was now over your mouth and annoyance graced his face.
"You really do talk a lot. If you have nothing better to be doing with that mouth of yours then—", another presence made Sukuna pause and turn around.
You folded your arms with a frown. "Way to ruin the mood Uraume".
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"Choso...what does Jogo have that I don't", you asked. You were currently helping him tie his hair up into those two puffs he always seemed to have.
He raised an eyebrow, puzzled by your question. "Nothing....why?", he asked cautiously.
"You two were practically breathing the same air back there, I literally thought you two were about to kiss at one point", you pouted. Choso felt your grip on his hair tighten a little.
"I think you might be overanalysing the situation", he responded, which he instantly regret. The tug on his hair was enough to let him know that you didn't like his answer.
You tilted his head up to the ceiling, you face hovering over his. "I'm not", you mumbled.
"What ever you say it is, is what it is", he nodded his head affirmatively.
You mad at him? Damn he gotta die now.
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"Toru, what does Jogo have that I don't?".
Gojo groaned and facepalmed. "Not this again!".
Last time you asked this question, was the time he fought Jogo and was practically holding hands with him.
You swung your spoon around haphazardly in his face to emphasise your point. “Babe you were literally riding his arm, that’s basically bestiality”.
“Y/N WHAT THE HELL??”, Gojo looked offended that you would even say that about him but to be honest you weren’t completely off the mark with that one.
"You're always violating him, violate me instead”, you murmured which Gojo heard loud and clear. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest.
“If that’s what you want i’ll happily oblige~”, he teased.
“Let go of me, I was joking. What I want is to eat my ice cream”, you huffed, turning around in his arms to face the counter which had the tub of ice cream perched on top.
“Mm that didn’t sound like a joke to me…”, he responded, taking your hand and dipping your finger into the tub before placing your finger in his mouth.
"Relax baby. That big headed idiot doesn't do it like you do”, he ran his fingers along the lines on your palm.
One this was for sure. Jogo was better than you cause you sure as hell would've busted right there and then.
masterlist :)
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missmeinyourbones · 1 year
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a tiny little something for you babies! barely edited or proofread. probably not good but hey here we are. soft soft soft fluff with a pain in the ass satoru
“satoru?”
your lover replies eagerly, “yes, angel?”
“what’s the point of us having a king-sized bed if we aren’t actually utilizing its space?”
the question is rhetorical, he knows this, yet satoru still finds himself smiling as he opens his mouth to let it do what it does best and bullshit.
“why would i want to spread out in bed when i could be cuddling the love of my life all night?”
the bed is huge, far too big for two people—even including satoru and his ridiculously long limbs. a california king lined with satin sheets and pillows that feel like clouds. it feels like a dream, but the weight of satoru’s body thrown across your own reminds you that this is, in fact, a grounding reality. 
he feels you sigh against his hair, “as romantic as you’re trying to make that seem, you’re on my side of the bed.”
his eyebrows furrow against your chest, and he almost laughs at how silly your statement sounds. 
“there are no sides of the bed,” he easily replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 
“what’s yours is mine baby,” he quips, before lifting his left hand to your face as proof, proudly showcasing the silver band decorating his ring finger. “i mean, that’s what we said in the vows, right?”
you swat his hand from your face and he chuckles, vibrating your entire body and making the room a whole lot warmer than it was a few moments ago. 
“i said in sickness and in health,” you stubbornly remind him, “not on my side of the bed and yours.”
at the tiredness lacing your voice and the grumpy glare you shoot him through your words, satoru decides to throw you a bone. he detangles himself from you, removing his weight and shuffling a bit further from where he priorly laid on top of you. 
now, he lays on his stomach, head turned to face your own. his large hand still makes itself comfortable flat across your soft stomach, his foot skimming your calf every now and then in an attempt to get comfortable. 
“there,” he exhales after a moment of deliberate shuffling, “i’ll let you breathe.”
his statement is so ridiculous, it makes you laugh. genuinely exhale from your nose and bubble deep from your throat. because to the eye of any stranger, the position is still extremely close. satoru is practically nuzzling into your side, glued to your hip as half of his body now slowly works its way on top of you—which is better than whole, so you take it as a win. 
you roll your eyes to hide your flush, “how kind of you.”
the moment is peaceful, but for only that—a moment. through the silence of your bedroom, satoru finds his voice once more. 
“can you rub my back?” 
he watches your face contort in the darkness as you scowl, “you’re insufferable.”
“please?” he whines like a child as his head pushes into your neck. “i’ll do yours after.”
you both know he won't, as he’ll be fast asleep in the next ten minutes, at most. you two do this same song and dance a few times a week: he asks you to run his back, you pretend to be annoyed by it, and then the gentle scratch of your nails on his skin lulls him to sleep rather quickly. it’s a routine, it feels like the two of you. 
through soft sighs of pleasure and dozing consciousness, satoru admits through a lazy grin. 
“this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”
“mhm,” you nod along at his blissed-out trance, “if i got to sprawl out and have my back rubbed til i fall asleep every night, i think it’d be my favorite part too.” 
satoru smiles with his teeth and he laughs from his belly at your quick remark. “not because of all this,” he claims through a whine, “it is a huge bonus, though.”
he slightly shivers beneath your fingertips when you whisper in return, “then why?”
satoru places a kiss on your neck, and his lips feel softer than the luxury bed you drift off in. 
“because i get to be with you,” he easily replies.
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saekkas · 10 months
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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄
summary: dates with michael kaiser are fun, more so when they turn into a three-hour sanrio shopping spree.
notes: this is my attempt at spoiling him <3 also big thanks to @mirahua for the inspo! go ahead and *grabby grabby*
[wc: 915]
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"do you really need to buy that much?" you honestly don't know what you're looking at, and you honestly don't know whether to be concerned or amused. "you're going to rob this whole store clean."
currently, it's the beginning of july, and kaiser, being the lovely boyfriend that he is, insisted on taking you out to the mall. window shopping, he called it.
more correctly, you're taking him shopping. especially with the way he's currently filling up your trolley with sanrio plushies.
"stop judging." kaiser glares, all pout and no bite. in his hand is a small cinnamoroll plush, one that looks suspiciously like him with blue eyes and blue star patterns on its ear.
he's holding it with such love and care, and you have to stop yourself from snorting when he lifts it so that they're face-to-face. "besides, how can you resist? he looks exactly like me!"
"that's exactly why i can resist."
your words catch his attention, and he scowls, playfully hitting your face with the plush toy's hand. "how dare you!"
"i'm kidding," you laugh, nudging him back with the hand that's not pushing the trolley. "but when i see headlines of you robbing a miniso, i'm totally sending them to ness."
his lips aren't the only one smiling. his eyes are bright, his shoulders seemingly light. your boyfriend looks like a child here, comfortably in his element, even with the people staring oddly at him.
it makes you happy that he's happy. it's enlightening to see the mikka that could be. the mikka that should be.
"yeah, yeah, whatever." even his words hold a sweet lilt to them, and you can't even bring yourself to complain when he throws a hello kitty themed soda can into the trolley. "i think i'm done."
you quirk an eyebrow, giggling as you survey every item he's managed to throw in. "aren't you forgetting something?"
you watch the flurry of emotions that pass through his face. confusion, confusion, and more confusion.
his eyes stray behind you, brightening as he extends a hand to show another sanrio plushy, this one modeled with him beside it.
"no," you laugh, wrestling the very cute toy out of his hand. "you've bought enough already!"
he pouts, and it's eerily similar to the toy he was holding earlier. "but don't you want a mini me at our house? a very special, limited addition mini me, part of the sanrio collaboration?"
"nice try but we should get the thing we actually came here for." you hold back a squeal when he tilts his head, looking oddly lost.
his cheeks have grown in lately, courtesy of your cooking, and now he's looking too much like baby mikka from the photos his mom showed when you came over. too cute to say no to.
"the very special, very limited addition hello kitty headband you wanted?" you watch as he perks up at the words, making a beeline to the other side of the shop right after.
you discreetly throw the plushy into the trolly as he leaves.
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you suppose bringing your big baby of a boyfriend has its perks. not only does he come with a black card, but his fans are everywhere, letting him cut through the ridiculously long line of adults holding onto stuffed sanrio dolls.
"you should do some fanservice," you hum, holding onto a bag as he holds onto another, your free hands intertwined together. "blow some kisses or something."
there's a ruckus of screams as kaiser does just that, a smug smirk on his lips as he waves to his fans, tugging you to the exit with him. "they love me."
"careful, there." the screaming doesn't stop, not until you're both out of the mall and in the parking lot.
even then, there are a group of girls following you both around, smiling and giggling shyly, trying to catch his attention. "your head's going to become so big it won't fit through our door."
"why are you so mean?" he whines, pinching your cheek when you both finally get into his car. "don't you love me too?"
"nope." the words are out of your mouth in a second and he glares, taking your hand to squeeze it tightly. he backs out of the space, a hand on the wheel and the other in yours but the pout on his lips never fade.
you sigh. "okay. fine. i love you too."
he squeezes your hand every few seconds after that, his head turning back and forth, torn between wanting to look at you and having to look at the street.
when the car meets a red light, he steps on the breaks, leaning over the console to kiss your cheek. "what are you reading?"
you quickly show him your phone, laughing when his jaw falls at the headline written on the screen.
BASTARD MUCHEN'S MICHAEL KAISER SEEN AT LOCAL STORE, HOARDING NEWEST COLLECTION OF SANRIO TO HIMSELF.
"the nerve," he grumbles, continuing to glare at the street when you take your phone back. "what's wrong with me collecting? can't people have a hobby these days?"
he stares when you show him your phone again, this time of a comment someone posted on the article.
user mirahua: can't believe i actually simp for this blue painted red flag. can't believe he looks like hello kitty too. i hate hello kitty.
kaiser can only grumble, muttering curse words under his breath as you laugh the rest of the way home.
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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“Hey. You.”
The most beat up pair of purple Chucks he’s ever seen enter his line of sight. Following them up the person they are attached to, he squints, trying to make out a face in the backdrop of the bright midday sun.
“What,” Nico says flatly.
Kayla is unbothered by his attitude. “I need your help.”
Now that is a sentence Nico does not often hear. He waits for a following because someone has died and I need you to handle it, or perhaps a more interesting because there is a ghost terrorizing camp that you need to take care of, but no explanation is forthcoming.
“Because…?” Nico prompts, eyebrows raising. Kayla huffs.
“My dumbass older brother has been working for seventy straight hours. Every time we try to drag him out he just — I dunno, talks around it. He’s fast and disorienting and none of us have managed, but if he doesn’t sleep soon he’s going to collapse. Again.”
Nico blinks. He’d wondered why he’d been having so much peace over the last couple days — there has not been, in hindsight, even one knock on his door at an obnoxious hour, nor has he been bagged about missing breakfast or lunch or dessert or whatever else. He has, for the most part, woken up well past noon and spent his time wandering the woods.
…Huh.
No wonder he’s been so bored.
“Don’t know how I’m supposed to help you with that,” he says shortly. “Knock him unconscious and drag his body back to bed.”
Kayla shakes her head. “Tried that. He has a very thick skull. Just made him mad.”
Nico was kidding, mostly, but the idea of Kayla tiptoeing behind a distracted Will and walloping him upside the head in the name of sisterly love makes him smile despite himself. Just as quickly, he twists it into a scowl, because he does not like the teasing expression that has wormed itself across the daughter of Apollo’s face.
“Well, then, pray, I guess.”
“Just talk to him,” she says, exasperated. “He listens to you.” She turns and strides off before Nico can say no, actually, Solace is a stubborn pain in the ass who delights particularly in ignoring everything I say, not sure where you got that from. And somehow, Nico feels like this is not something that’s just going to go away.
He groans, and curses at the heavens, and stomps towards the infirmary.
———
The infirmary is, when Nico walks in, surprisingly crowded.
It’s never really empty, not at camp, but it’d been a lot quieter the last time Nico had been dragged in (he got a papercut. Well, a sword gash to the artery, but nothing a square of ambrosia couldn’t fix, and definitely nothing worth a forty-straight-minute lecture from Will, that was for certain). Then, maybe a third of the cots had been occupied, and most patients where lucid enough to be complaining. Medics were either actively arguing with difficult campers, or chatting amongst themselves.
Now, not a single cot is free. The infirmary swells with pained groans and sounds of retching. Medics and medics-in-training rush from bed to bed; none of them as hurriedly as Will Solace, who might as well be a blur of movement.
“Woah,” Nico says, darting his arms out to catch the aforementioned blur of movement as he rapidly approaches the ground, having tripped on a supply cart. “Slow down, Solace, or you’re gonna end up on a cot.”
“Sounds good,” he mumbles. His eyes are bloodshot. “Gimme ten, and I’ll come check you out, okay? Unless you’re dying. Are you dying?” He frowns, concentrating. A familiar glow comes from his hands, but it’s — weak, almost. More of a flicker than anything. “No, you’re not dying. Good. Be back soon.”
Despite his parting words, he doesn’t move.
“Did my legs stop working?” he wonders, and promptly goes fully limp. Nico yelps, scrambling to keep from dropping him.
“Um, help?” he yells. “Medic down?”
“Cot!” someone yells back. “Be there soon-ish!”
Nico glances side to side, but, as he expected, everything is occupied, and every medic is busy. Several people, he is now noticing, are covered in the same, pulsating red welts, clutching bowls and buckets to their chests, faces green with nausea. Some kind of outbreak. Austin, Will’s brother, is sprinting from bed to bed, checking fevers, firing off hymns. Kayla ducks in from the back doors, throwing on a scrub shirt, and rushes to help. A few other people Nico recognises as regular volunteers are doing what they can to keep people upright and as comfortable as possible, until one of the healers can get to them.
Will is still unconscious.
Nico ducks into the nearest shadow, and disappears.
———
part two
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soov-archived · 1 year
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M𝗶LK & C𝗢𝗢K𝗶𝗘S! ── DOMESTiC ACTS.
✶ : 1.1k, txt choi line & gn!reader, fluff, humor (?), a bit of angst in beomgyu’s, estabilished relationship. ⚠ : mentions of food, lowercase intended, mentions of kissing, pet names, 1 small curse. no au set though idol!soobin is slightly implied. ੭ : bunny soob enthusiast right here Hello
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CHOi YEONJUN⠀𑁨⠀최연준
yeonjun does everything he can to keep you glued to his skin whenever you two are at home, no matter what
but sleeping next to him is the worst thing EVER
he clings to your waist and tangles your legs together so you can't escape from his deathly grip
when you wake up trying to push his weight from you, jun yawns with a quick stretch
as soon as your eyes meet, his own crinkle with a lazy beam
“hi, babe ^_^” he mumbles giddily, hands reaching up for your cheeks and lips pressed flush to your face
even though he's not the best cook, he loves to try new recipes when you're craving a specific thing for lunch
he also adores playing old jazz songs on his portable radio while doing so
and if you approach him within a radius of 3 meters, jun will find a way to make you dance with him
soon, what was supposed to be a cooking session of his turns into your personal dance class
his hands are normally laced to yours when you're having online classes, cheek on your lap while the teacher keeps rambling
fun fact but he likes your hands a lot, especially tracing the lines on your palms
sometimes you'll even catch him writing his name on them with his fingers, the tongue poking out deceiving him
one of his favorite things to do with you is his skincare routine, followed by multiple rounds of board games and snacks
he's extremely careful with your skin, you won't apply any product yourself if he's there to help you
“jun, y'know i can put on the mask myself, right?”
“but why would you when i can do it for you instead?” cue the cockiest eyebrow raise and smirk to ever exist (it soon morphs into his gentle smile, just wait for a bit)
the night ends with an intense game of monopoly and two bowls of half-burnt popcorn next to both of you
(he doesn't want a single phone near you during your quality time!!!!!!)
you're definitely cheating and yeonjun threw some tantrums because of it, but halfway through the game he gives up on trying to make you play fair
this man is so whipped he starts staring at your face with his chin resting on his propped-up knee
when you take note of this BOOM your downfall came
he takes advantage of your flustered state because of his intense, loving gaze, and manages to steal your money without you seeing it
yeonjun will most likely confess it later… but only if you confess that you also cheated
⠀ ⠀
CHOi SOOBiN⠀𑁨⠀최수빈
listen, soobin is a stress baker
one moment he's at the highest point of his life, the next he's brutally mixing a bunch of nuts into a dough while cursing his members
but since you came into his life, everything changed
not really everything, but you get the drill
now, what happens is either 1: you're forced by his sparkly eyes and pout (a grown man pouting........) to bake with him OR
2: you wake up every sunday to the aroma of freshly baked bread, fruit cakes, and biscuits
soobin has this baby pink waist apron with pearls embroidered on it, lace ribbons around, and a rabbit face in the middle
he got it from taehyun (who made it himself) right after they moved in together
teen soob was fighting for his life back then, thinking it was the most humiliating thing ever, and that taehyun had just squashed his pride
but now he uses it proudly, and it's his favorite apron to use with his white sweater, sleeves rolled up and cheeks caked with flour did you get it
he loooves when you compliment his traditional baking outfit, replying to it with an awkward grin
ties your shoelaces when you're leaving the house and unties them when you get back
and then proceeds to keep muttering the “bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree” rhyme under his breath without even noticing it <’3
this man is also a compulsive buyer and he WILL spend all his money on matching stuff for you, him, and odi
every once in a while he drops an amazon box on your bed, saying “open it.”
you comply worriedly, and there's a 98% of chance that there are two pjs with a strawberry print, and a mini strawberry hat for odi
he forces you to use it
and odi too
anime nights with him are a must!!! he lets you pick any show that you want to watch, cuddling you & stealing shy kisses throughout it
soob also asks you to help him with his japanese, even if you're not fluent in it
he grabs his jpn notebook and flashcards, asking you to read what's written in it whilst he translates it into his desired language
you get paid back with more kisses and snuggles 🫡 (and baked goods too)
⠀ ⠀
CHOi BEOMGYU⠀𑁨⠀최범규
if you thought yeonjun was bad for all the clingy stuff, beomgyu is ten times worse
constant forehead pecks, back hugs, and cheek bites are common in your relationship
such a gentle, but playful lover
lives for late-night walks with you, fingers interlocked, nonsense thrown in the air
if the weather gets chilly and you forget to grab your coat, he'll laugh so hard at your freezing form
“how could you forget your coat, seriously!” cackles from beomgyu. pause. oh god, he's taking off his hoodie. oh god, he's putting it in your hands… “i don't want you to catch a cold.”
can you guys hear me screaming!!!!!!!!!!!!
will whine sometimes, begging for a hug in the middle of the empty street because he's only wearing a t-shirt and sweats now
the passerby stray dog side eyes him
buries his cold nose on your neck and huffs when you tease him for “forgetting his hoodie at home”
gyu has this one knack for bumping his hip with yours whenever you're brushing your teeth together
awaits for your giggles with expectant eyes, them turning into crescents when you find his beam covered by foam stupidly funny
he's so awful at getting groceries by himself that he needs you on facetime with him every time so he won't get only ramyeon for all the meals
“is this the right brand of apples you always get, love?”
“what the hell do you mean by ‘brand’, beomgyu?????”
“OH my bad, i meant apple breed.”
professional clothes stealer™
has this weekly battle with you where one has to create an outfit with the other's clothes and use it for a whole day
somehow manages to pull off your clothes? he even suggests a wardrobe switch after people start complimenting him
serenades you when you're feeling down :(
his love language is already words of affirmation — and he shows it all the time — but especially when you're sad
you're curled up in your covers and he's playing your favorite love song in his guitar, switching any pet names in it to your name
it pains beomgyu a lot seeing you in such a state, so he offers any sort of comfort he can if it means that he'll see his favorite smile once again
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⠀ ⠀ © soov, 2O23.
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