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spdrvyn · 11 months

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TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*

love, your best friend Dre <3

i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))

"Lyla, arrange this mess."

Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.

To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.

"What's the magic word, Miguel?"

He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.

"...Please."

Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"

"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."

"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."

The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.

Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.

However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.

"Lyla, what's that?"

Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"

"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"

"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."

Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.

Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.

Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.

"Whatcha' got there?"

The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.

'They got me a gift.'

'That's the third one this week.'

His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.

'...I know.'

A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.

'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'

Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.

'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'

Another bite.

'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'

'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'

Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.

'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'

"Miguel?"

That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.

He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.

Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.

"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"

"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.

Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.

"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."

You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."

"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."

He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.

"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."

Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #fluff #romance #lyla spiderverse #lyla atsv

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dirtydixonsgirl · 10 months

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Want it?

rick grimes x daryl dixon x fem!reader

A/N: dude???? i think i just fell in love with rickyl recently i apologize for the smut ur ab to read but i seriously enjoyed writing this lol. lmk what y’all think???

WARNINGS: cream pie, begging, threesum, rickyl, overestimation, drunk sex etc 18+

“you like how daryl’s making you feel baby?” ricks deep quiet voice whispers in your ear, kissing and biting at your earlobe earning a soft whimper from you. “what’s that, sweet girl? I don’t think we’ve heard you enough tonight.”

it was hard formulating a coherent thought with daryls big arms caging you in, absolutely railing you into oblivion. your senses were weak, maybe from all the alcohol you had consumed earlier, this being your punishment for teasing them all night.

“y-yes.” you koan. “feels s-so good-ah!- dar…i’m gonna cum!”

both the guys chuckle at your state, all worn out, wasted, squirming underneath daryls cock. what a sight it was. rick grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb forcing your half lidded pleasure filled eyes to look at him.

“uh, uh, baby doll.” He denies you. “no cuming, not till we say so, right daryl?”

daryl grunts in agreement. one of his hands was holding onto your hips while the other one was rubbing delicious circles onto your clit making the heat pool to your belly. you whine in response, holding onto ricks forearm tightly.

“maybe if ya didn’t tease us the way ya did tonight, you’d be gettin’ whatever you wanted, princess.” daryl smirks.

they were absolutely enjoying this, a little too much. you were now whining, your orgasm threatening to release as you clench around daryl, making him moan and his grip your hips a little tighter.

“i-i can’t,” you cry. “p-please!”

“please what?” rick leans forward rubbing his nose softly against your cheek. “what do you need?”

your head flies back, tears threatening to escape. this was torture. daryl was hitting that delicate spot over and over with every thrust, stretching you out, filling you. it was overwhelming.

“daryl,” you whimper, head shooting back up, only to have your back arch.

“don’t do it.” daryl growls, through clenched teeth feeling his own orgasm build up. “rick ain’t gonna be as soft as I am on ya.”

and he was absolutely right.

but you couldn’t handle it anymore.

you clenched around him one last time, your hands flying to his shoulders, your nails digging into them. your eyes closed, letting whimpers and moans fall from your mouth as you released on him, following by his own a few seconds later, filling you up.

you catch your breath as your mind begins to spin, drunkly mixed with pleasure. your eyes open to find rick shaking his head at you and daryl giving you a disapproving look. you felt shy under their gaze, your cheeks turning red. but those weren’t the only cheeks that were about to turn red.

“look at the mess you’ve made, princess.” rick says disapproval lacing his voice. “what are we gonna do about you?”

daryl pulls out leaving you feeling empty, squirming with anticipation suddenly regretting your orgasm. he steps off the bed, rick standing up, coming to lean over you, you inhale his manly scent filling your nostrils. you knew this was gonna be rough.

“looks like we’re gonna have to teach this little brat how to listen.”

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #twd #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #twd imagine #rick grimes #smut #rick grimes smut #rick twd #twd rick #twd smut #andrew lincoln #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader

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faraway-archive · 4 days

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Favorite Secretary

Yan!CEO x GN (secretary) Reader

Tw: yandere behavior, smut, mind corruption

AN; Sorry for any mistakes, and no plot- smut :p

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Gasping for air as you grasp his desk as he keeps fucking you. Trying to keep your moans down as his cock fits perfectly into your hole, as if it was made for him and that just made him more feral. He wants to hear more of you, if only you didn't have to be quite while he fucks you brainless. Every time both of you have sex he is very happy about ruining your career, he did everything in his power to make sure you only work with him. That you are under his control. He made sure you got rejected and blacklisted from working anywhere else but his company. Even better that you are his secretary, it helps to make sure you are closer to him than before.

He keeps ramming into you and grabs your waist tightly, making sure you don't fall onto his desk. He wants to make sure you feel his dick inside of you, at some point he pulls you up and makes you sit on his dick. Opening up your legs and just starts ramming his dick into your hole, you lost it and moaned loudly. You can't help it, his dick feels good as he keeps going in and out, it doesn't help that he is taller and buffer to. He has all that muscle and it wasn't for show, it's something that he can use to his advantage.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good. You love taking my cock right? Panting like crazy, grabbing my arm as if that can stop me from being in your tight hole."

You couldn't say anything but moan. His dick is too good, too good for you to mumble anything but a slight 'yes'. Grabbing his arms as he goes into you, begging to cum. You can't help it- his dick is too good for you to keep it in longer and you just need to let it go. You can't think straight anymore besides his dick. You hate it, you wish that you didn't have to come to this life. If only you didn't get blacklisted from the job site, you could have been anywhere else. But on the other hand you can't deny, this job is good and it helps keep you afloat in the current world. If only your CEO wasn't so.... obsessed with you, but I guess that comes with the job.

"I will only cum if you beg for it." "Please let me cum! Let me, please please," You kept blabbing, unable to make coherent sentences or thoughts. His dick is too much for you. "Cum then, since you're desperate enough for my dick."

As soon as you came, he still kept going. At this point you felt overwhelmed and your legs shake violently. Soon after he came inside of you- no warning as you feel his cum inside of you. Gasping as he slowly pulls his dick out, watching his cum drip out of your hole.

"Good.. you did so well. I'm proud of my little secretary, taking my dick well. But you did moan loudly... ah well that's another time. Good job." Smiling as he helps clean you up, dressing you in your outfit and watching you struggle to leave his office as if nothing happened.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Below this is old writing, I didn't like the way it was heading so yeah, didn't feel like deleted it LOL

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ You always kept quiet and did your own things. Wondering why the CEO would make you be his own secretary, didn't he have one before? You wonder what happened to them. Shaking your head you continued your job, scheduling meetings, responding to emails, all sorts of boring but important tasks. While in the mists of your task, Lux, the CEO called you to his office. That's weird, he never called you to his office unless it was an emergency. Aka you fucked up. Gulping, you finished up sending the last email and began to walk up to his office.

While you were walking up to his office, Lux was eagerly waiting for you. He has done so much to get you to be this close, just a bit more and you will be his. He was able to mess up your life to the point to where you now depend on this job to survive. He was getting tired of his old sectary anyways, but you. You were appealing to him. Something about you appealed to his taste, you were someone so pure, kind-hearted, something that he mostly lacked. You touched his heart when he first saw you in that small café. He was going to pass that until he heard your voice, and than he saw you. You captivated his attention. He just had to have you. To make you his. He smiles as he eagerly waited for you, he just can't wait to make you his. No matter what.

You made it to his office, standing in front of it you softly knocked. Hearing a muffled 'come in' you opened the door. Lux. The CEO sitting in his desk, smiling at you and gesturing to come closer to his desk. You do, very shakily. When you arrived at his desk, he stands up and walks towards you, Lux towering over you as he slowly leans in to your face. You slowly back away from him until your back hits his desk.

Glancing up at him he smirks, one of his hands holds the back of your hair and yanks it. Making you look at his ceiling and felt his breath on your neck. Kissing your neck as his other hand travels down into your pants. Gasping as he quickly unbottles your pants and watching it slide down.

#✒ fx's writing #my ocs #gn reader #male yandere #smut #x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere ceo #yandere lemons #tw yandere #yandere boss #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere smut #yandere nsft

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causeilikelix · 3 months

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always thinking abt thigh riding with (dom)felix 😭 like his deep ass voice saying degrading and teasing things omg 🧎‍♀️

UGHH yes please I need. He's got such great thighs dlsfkjsdljk

Like it would probably start off innocently enough. He's a sweetheart, as we all know, but that's definitely NOT what he's like when he gets horny.

SMUT under the cut. Minors DNI!

WARNINGS: Hard!Dom Felix (I think?), afab reader, thigh riding, one ass slap, name calling (slut, princess, baby, things of that nature), dacryphilia (?), orgasm denial (?), teeny bit over overstimulation, actions take place in a public place but no one gets caught

Like, maybe you came to visit him at the studio one night because he's practicing late. He's got a concert coming up and he has to practice his solo stage! But he works so hard.

You'd bring him coffee and a snack and you'd just stare at him while he ate. He's all sweaty and his hair is sticking to his face and it's just... so hot (I'm a Black Hair Felix supremacist so that's what I'm imaging lol)

Before you know it, you're crawling over to him and capturing his lips in a kiss. You don't even care that he tastes like coffee and sweat. He grunts into the kiss but kisses you back before you know it.

"Missed me much?" Felix chuckles

"So much." you press warm kisses down his neck.

"Why don't you show me then?" Felix's deep, tired voice made you throb.

You crawl into his lap and he spreads his legs to accommodate you. Your knees on either side of his slim waist, his hands on your ass, the heavy breathing while you make out. It's not long before you're grinding down on his clothed cock.

He shouldn't be so surprised that you want him, he's basically wearing lingerie. Gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Fuck, you want to stain them so that he's reminded of you every time he looks at them for the rest of the night.

"Get on my thigh, princess," Felix commands as if he can hear your thoughts. You follow his wishes and straddle one of his thighs. He pushes your skirt up and tsks at you. "You didn't come here just to bring me food, did you? What kind of slut wears this sorry excuse for underwear to the studio?"

Felix tugs at the flimsy thong that does almost nothing to cover you. you moan when the elastic snaps against your skin.

"Ride my thigh, princess. Prove that your slutty hole deserves my cock." Felix grips your hips and shoves your core onto his thigh.

You start moving instantly. The fabric of his sweatpants creates a warm friction that shoots up into your core. You moan as you work your core along his thigh. He grips your hips tightly and leans his head back to watch you lose yourself.

"Fuck, baby, this must have been what you wanted the whole time. Can't go a single night without thinking about my cock in you?" Felix chides. You shake your head, barely able to form a coherent thought. Pleasure sparks through your body with every grind. Your core clenches around nothing.

You whine and work yourself harder against him.

"There's absolutely nothing in your little brain right now except wanting to cum. You must want my cock that badly, huh?" Felix muses. His eyes are dark and hooded as he watches you shake above him.

"Want your cock!" you cry, burying your face in his neck as you get closer and closer to your high.

"Make yourself cum on my thigh first, princess, then maybe I'll consider giving your slutty hole what it wants, yeah? Gotta make sure my cocksleeve is wet enough to take me." Felix rasps in your ear. He palms himself through his sweats in order to get a little more worked up.

"W-wet enough! Want your cock now!" You beg wetly against his ear, pressing kisses on his favorite spot to try and entice him.

"You sure are soaking through my sweatpants, babe," Felix chuckles darkly, "Maybe I should make you stop. Keep you empty and desperate while I practice a little more."

"No!" Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of stopping. You worked yourself harder against him to urge your high to come quicker. "Please! Need you, baby, need to cum for you."

"Need me? Desperate slut." Felix landed a stinging slap to your ass. He rubbed his palm over the red mark soothingly. "Should I make you stop? Dance a little more and watch you touch yourself? Do you think you could cum without me?"

"No! No I can't cum without you." You sobbed into his neck. He gripped your hips to work you against him harder. "Wanna come for you, just you! Want you to fill my holes all the time."

"That's right, princess, you can only cum with my help. Your little brain is just waiting for me to tell you to cum, that's why you can't now." Felix chides.

It's true. You can taste your orgasm in the back of your throat. Your stomach senses it approaching. Your thighs shudder with anticipation. But you can't fall over the edge. There's something holding you back.

"Please, please can I cum!"

"Fine. Cum on my thigh, princess, make a mess."

That's all it takes. Your thighs clamp around his and you let out a keening moan. Felix forces you to keep grinding on his thigh despite the bite of overstimulation. Your high washes over your body, making you shake in Felix's hold.

After a few minutes, your high wanes and you slump against his chest. Your breath heaves as you try to get some much needed oxygen from your pussy to your brain. Felix gently rubs your back and pulls your skirt back down to offer you some decency. He presses soft kisses on your cheek and neck wherever he can reach.

"Feel better?"

"Still want your cock," you mumble into his neck.

"Yeah? Then ride me, baby."

#felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #lee yongbok smut #felix lee smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #smut #kpop smut #an ask!#ellie writes #ugh i need him

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

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What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.

#vash imagines #vash imagine #vash x you #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x you #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nicholas wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader

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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months

Text

> Mercury Aspects <

and why you sound like a Dumb Fuck

Mercury Aspecting Sun - Your voice is authoritative and you love to flex on people with your loud appeal. However, your voice being the centre of attention (usually) can create an atmosphere where you're very controlling of the conversation. This is not so bad because others do like to listen to you, but the problem is others may not always feel heard. You are gifted at speaking, and gaining recognition from that, but a good conversation isn't formed from a fkn monologue, or outwitting the other, its about conversing - not speaking AT someone. But you speak clearly and its easy for others to call you smart Mercury Aspecting Moon - Nervous speakers who's tone is so dependent on how they are feeling, you literally have to give them a pat on the back to get a coherent answer out of them. These people are very thoughtful, but since they have been thinking about what they want to say for so long, they find themselves stuttering, and word vomiting; because they want to be careful with what they say hence the overthinking tendencies. They speak softly and it can make others relax around them. But people like to ask them to speak up a lot, so not so relaxing for them I guess Mercury Aspecting Venus - Pretty voices, and they always say the right thing. People love to talk to them cause they have a very receptive ear, but also a willingness to share their own ideas, and this duality makes it so others cannot help but be completely enamoured by their talking. They can sell water to a well, a fire to a lighter, a Samsung to a Apple store; they really can convince you anything just because you got lost in their language.

Mercury Aspecting Mars - Harsher voices that love to get aggressive on da mic. They love to swear but more than that, they love to talk shit, and well they are good at it because they don't really put so much thought into what they are saying, they just say it. And others have to remind these natives that they said some fucked up shit, and that they should calm down lol. But they perform very well in arguments, and its because they thrive in da art of da comeback Mercury Aspecting Jupiter - Naturally bold in what they say, and always have something interesting to talk about, and they are interesting, but they are always in the mood to teach you something and its kinda exhausting. Jim carry has this conjunct and well he is interesting... But he is also always trying to teach you something, but unfortunately for him we don't really care we just want him to make us laugh. And I guess thats why this combo can be a little unfortunate, because most people feel educated enough and don't want to be further educated. They so badly want to teach others, but unfortunately for them its a hard thing to teach in tongues > people learn from experience more, and they'd rather be the master of their own destiny (not owe it to yoi) > ik ur trying to help but you have to understand we are a stubborn species Mercury Aspecting Saturn - They speak with so much nonchalance, and its a great way to make others listen to them; because they acting like the answer is simple. But it's actually because they >think< they figured out all the possible answers; since they have studied/researched a lot just so they feel some semblance of control on the topic. And if they don't speak on a subject, its because they don't know the answer, and this decisiveness in when and when not to speak makes others respect their opinion more often than not.

Mercury Aspecting Uranus - You guys jump from subject to subject with such little foresight of what the fuck was happening in the conversation, I frankly get a headache talking to you. You are def interesting to talk to, but your lack of direction in communication, can get on my nerves and I hate your lack of care about it. You talk about anything under the sun, and this makes you someone almost perfect to speak to. Until the other person realizes the conversation as a whole was utterly meaningless. But these guys lowkey geniuses and their voices are 'unique' Mercury Aspecting Neptune - These people are um. hard to say. they really go all over the place. I've seen these natives go from speaking like a retard > to a professor > to barking like a dog > then speaking like the president; and its just a normal conversation for them. I think its because they pick up on the energy of what the conversation needs most and they shapeshift into whatever that need is; so you really don't know what your gonna get. You really can never can tell what they are going to say next, and they are a master at confusing yo brain. Also high-key the best person to talk about life with; very sensitive and genuine when need to be. Mercury Aspecting Pluto - These guys love to get deep n emotionally invest in any conversation they can. They have extremely piercing minds, and cannot be bothered talking about a 'nothing', so they always probe your brain, and swerve the conversation into something deeply uncomfortable for the both of you. Hey its more interesting than a boring conversation, and well if they never brought it up, lets be honest; you never would have thought about it in the unique perspective that they gave you. Also they are so blunt and forceful, you literally have to stop everything because of the audacity of what the fuck came out they mouth. They speak intensely and put all focus onto you/subject at hand, its low key uncomfortable; but always interesting

#mercury aspects #astrology blog #astro community #astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astrology placements #astro observations

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bigbadvoxbox · 1 month

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Helllooo! I'm back with another ask

I was thinking a vox getting jealous because Valentino was being Valentino and flirting with (fem) reader and vox marking her up or something like that to just prove that reader is only his- sorry if this sounds confusing lol if it ain't coherent feel free to delete, hope u have a nice day tho!!

-🎶

I love this! I wish bad violent things on Valentino so getting to write him getting rejected and shit will be fun!

warnings: nsfw. possessive sex. also unprotected sex, which u shouldn't do. semi-public/public sex (in a limo). also valentino exists in this. i hate valentino, so im gonna warn u that he's even here. fuck u valentino. marking + biting. vox has kinda like an ownership (?) kink idk what the word is but he likes the concept of you belonging to him. also warning for valentino being a gross pervy scumbag who flirts with anything with a hole.

- It was meant to just be a quick drop by with Vox, as he had to quickly stop by Valentino's studio for a quick discussion. This was your first time actually meeting the infamous Valentino. Vox had never really wanted you to meet him, for reasons unknown, but today he had no choice but to bring you along to his brief meeting.

- It went exactly like he was dreading it would.

- "Where you been hiding this little chula, huh?" Valentino asked, taking the back of your hand, and planting what started off as a light kiss, but very quickly became a long lick, leaving you feeling confused, as well as a bit mortified.

- Vox was very quick to take a step between the two of you, his eye twitching as he tried his best to keep that smile on his face, needing to keep up his stupid little act of respect so that this obnoxious bastard of a man wouldn't throw a tantrum. Valentino has power that Vox can use, so he can't just yet show just how much he dislikes the moth-demon.

- The rest of that quick little chat felt like eternity, and Vox could not WAIT to get the fuck out of those studios. Hell, he was considering fucking the shit out of you right then and there just to show Valentino that he needs to fuck off. He wouldn't outright say anything, but he sure as shit would show Valentino who you belong to.

- You barely got out of the studio and back into Vox's limo when he pounced on you.

- "That prick. He needs to learn to keep his hands off what isn't his." he grumbled to himself as he made quick work of laying you back against the seat, hovering over you. Within no time, your neck was littered with marks and bites, Vox making an effort to make them as visible as possible. Bright and clear enough for even Valentino's blind ass to see.

- Pure jealousy was fuelling him at that moment, as well as possessiveness. He was gonna make sure no other lowlife fucker ever DARED to even think about touching you ever again. That was his job alone. You were HIS girl.

- Part of him considered leaving his name on you somewhere, somehow, but no. That could wait. It would be too rash a decision right now, he should wait until you could both decide on such a thing together when you were thinking clearly. He didn't know if you'd be okay with that, so he decided against it, but the thought definitely lingered in the back of his mind.

- While his hands trailed all over your body, touching and groping everywhere, feeling what's HIS, he revelled in the feeling of your hands on his body too. He knew you only had eyes for him, and that you were just as irritated by Valentino's actions as he was. That only spurred him on, and next thing you knew, the two of you were barely even clothed in the back of his limo.

- Vox had you practically in every position in the back of that limo. At first, he was hovering over you, and it was sweet, close, passionate, then, he turned you two around so he was drilling into you from behind, rough, sinful, and messy. He liked this position, it gave him the perfect view of your bodies joining together as he gripped your hips, while you gripped the car door for stability, your shared heavy breaths fogging up the windows.

- Finally, he had you in his lap, riding him. He sat up, your chests pressing together as he took this opportunity, so close to you, to leave deeper bites and marks, now extending from your neck to your jaw and shoulders, even low enough to your tits.

- The limo was definitely shaking.

- After a couple rounds, you both decided you had made enough of a mess for one day, and had successfully gotten both of your frustrations out of your systems.

- A knock at the limo window caught Vox's attention, and he rolled the tinted windows down a tad, quickly covering you with his shirt. It was Valentino on the other side.

- "You've been parked out here for a while. Thought you were busy?" he said in a snarky tone. Vox couldn't help but smirk slightly, quickly looking for your approval, before rolling the window down a tad more, exposing the mess you two had made, as well as you, now only covered by Vox's shirt, which thankfully covered enough, only leaving you exposed from the collarbones up and the thighs down, but left just enough on display for Valentino to very clearly see the art gallery of hickeys and bite marks that littered your body.

- "We were busy."

#hazbin hotel #voxbox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel smut #vox #i hate valentino #vox smut

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GUARDIAN ANGEL! GOJO x FEM READER

Kneeling by your bed, rosary wrapped around your knuckles, lips pressed to the burnished rosewood, you pray.

God, please send me another guardian angel.

A blast of static from the TV behind you.

The one you sent me-

“Hey, how does the thing work?” Gojo says, accompanied by loud thumps. You cringe in silence.

He’s strange.

wc — 3.7k

tags — religion, Gojo has to reckon with the consequences of being the strongest, domesticity, attempted (failed) mugging/attack, Gojo kills a man for you (non graphic), Shoko’s a good friend, bs angel lore, I think of this like a prequel to reader’s villain arc lol, title from closer by nine inch nails

You wake up to a man standing over your bed. Understandably, you scramble backwards, hands over knees over legs over feet, all your limbs tangled together, until you bump into your headboard.

“Hi!” He says cheerily. “Wow, haven’t gotten that reaction in a while, not since- Anyways. I’m Gojo Satoru, your guardian angel. Please make breakfast, it’s 12 pm already and I’m starving. Your sleep habits are terrible.”

You shake, terrified. Nothing he said has gone through your brain.

“Um, hello? Deep breaths now. It’s really not that serious, can you stop that? Hellooooo,” he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face, trying to get through to you.

You panic and bat his hand away, but if you can touch him, that means he’s real. You’re not dreaming. There’s a strange man in your house calling himself your guardian angel. You try to pull yourself together enough to make a coherent sentence. What comes out is:

“Um. Guardian angel. What?”

“You don’t believe me,” he says.

You’ve heard it can be dangerous for people suffering from delusions to be forcefully brought out of their dreams. “No,” you say carefully. “I’m sure this is all a big understanding.”

“No, that’s okay,” he laughs. “I love getting to do this.”

Massive wings unfurl from his back. It’s a strange sight. The air seems to ripple around them, iridescent ebbs and flows of the universe to make space for the impossible. They seem to sprout right out of his shoulder blades.

It’s undeniable, irrefutable proof. Your brain can’t process this. It goes back to sleep.

You wake up to the smell of bacon burning in the kitchen.

Gojo hums as he cooks, his wings out. You’re almost worried they’ll get caught in the flames when suddenly you have something much more real to worry about.

“Ow!” He’s about to stick his finger into his mouth when you intervene, scolding him without even thinking about it.

“That’s dangerous! Don’t put your hands in your mouth, especially not if you’ve been cooking. Come here,” you tug him over to run his hands under the faucet.

“Who's the guardian angel again?” He teases, amused.

You answer him with another question. “Why are you cooking, anyways?”

“You’re starving me! It’s so late and you haven’t made breakfast yet - you know I could report you to the authorities for angel abuse, right?”

Somehow, you don’t believe him. There may very well be a division in heaven’s bureaucracy dedicated to looking after angels, but something about Gojo is just on the edge of unbelievable, like if you blink too hard, it might disappear without a trace. It’s the wings, probably.

You’re good at compartmentalizing, so you ignore all of the normal reactions someone would have to an angel randomly appearing in your apartment to instead make breakfast. Gojo already burned your favorite pan, so you stick it in the sink to soak while you rummage around for your second best set. Then you check the fridge. You’re out of butter and eggs. There are just two pieces of bacon left. Is it presumptuous to ask your angel to run errands with you?

You poke your head out of the fridge to look at Gojo, staring remorsefully at the burnt remains of his once-was-an-egg. He’s nursing the cut on his finger.

“Do you want to go grocery shopping?”

He smiles at you, slow and syrupy and-

He can’t do that. He’s beautiful as it is, as if God took extra time crafting him. Smiling only makes his beauty all the more painful, tugging at the strings of your heart. His snow white hair curls against the nape of his neck, a ruthlessly cute detail you notice when he tilts his head at you.

“I would love to. What’s grocery shopping?”

Introducing Gojo to the modern world is an exercise in both patience and childish wonder. There’s so much he doesn’t know. He tells you the last time he’s been on Earth was somewhere back in the 90’s.

“Like 1990? That’s pretty recent,” you remark.

“Like 90 CE.”

He’s delighted by everything, even the simplest of snacks, and begs you to add them to your cart. Ramune impresses him to no end. He’s enthralled by the taste of ice cream after the nice worker gives him a sample. You might really be reported to the Bureau of Angel Abuse at this point - all he’s interested in is junk food. It takes a while to finally wrangle him away from everything. In a way, it’s your fault because you hesitate to refuse an angel anything, and Gojo wants it all. You only manage to get him to agree to go home once you’ve tired him out.

There was a sense of reverence, at first.

There’s an angel living in your home. It’s hard to imagine getting used to that. Walking into the bathroom to the sight of Gojo brushing his teeth shirtless, his wings out, is a sight that will never get old. He manages to transform even the mundane into the divine. The sunlight strikes his hair at just the right angle to glow, giving him a faux-halo.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I think I used up all your toothpaste.”

By day seven, you’ve wised up to Gojo’s tactics. If you don’t say no to anything, he’ll steamroll right over you, so you have to grow a backbone.

“Oh, Christ? Yeah, we’re old pals. We go wayyyyy back.”

“Please be quiet while I’m trying to pray.”

“We’re in the same therapy group, actually. He texts me all the time for advice-“

“Gojo. Shut. Up.”

He’s silent for all of a minute before he pipes up again. “I don’t think capital G up there would appreciate that.”

You have never missed a day of prayer in your life. No temptation has been able to sway you from your duties. Hunger, thirst, and pain all were swept away in the face of your faith. Were you seriously about to start now, being annoyed to death by a particularly useless angel?

The best solution to Gojo is always to ignore him. He needs attention like flowers need water.

Without it, he stalks off to sulk.

It’s night by the time he returns. He’s flying, which you usually don’t allow him to do, but you’ve driven out to a more remote, private church to pray. It’s owned by an old family friend, who handed you the keys without question. Half of this is for you, to experience god in the sanctity of nature, and half is for Gojo. You hate seeing him cooped up. Part of you feels like you’ve chained him down. You’re a trap in the form of a human, made to keep him grounded.

He touches down next to you, hair slicked to his forehead in sweat. When he stretches his arms, his wings move simultaneously. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look more alive. He loves nothing like he loves flying, and you’re inclined to agree.

Maybe you’ll let him take you for another ride tonight. You love the feeling of the wind against your face, the sight of the landscape beneath you when he takes you up, the feeling in your stomach when he tucks his wings in and free-falls for fun. You’re not scared. Gojo would never let anything happen to you.

You might ask, later. Now, you send him off to the car ahead of you while you lock up. He’s cheerful as he heads off, whistling merrily. You’re glad flying has improved his mood. It’s equally painful for you whenever he’s upset with you. Perhaps it's simply a side effect of being a guardian angel .

The key is in the door when you feel the first hint of danger.

“All the money in your pockets, ma’am.”

Polite, for a thief.

“You’re not from around these parts.” He says as you spin around. “Should’ve known better than to go wandering around these woods alone. Whatever happens next is on you, sweetheart. If only you’d been a little more careful.”

He has a knife.

“What do you want? Money? You can have it.” It doesn’t matter much to you. As long as he leaves before Gojo comes back.

“Sometimes, ma’am, men don’t want anything but a thrill.”

Then he lunges at you, presses you against the wall, and pins you with a knife to your throat.

“Don’t scream now. No one would hear you anyways.”

He’s wrong about that part.

You hear him coming up the path before you see him.

“What’s taking you so long?” Gojo whines. “I wanna go home and watch Love Island already-oh.”

“Run!” Gojo might be an angel, but you’ve seen him cut himself making toast. He can bleed like any other man, gold ichor, yes, but blood still. You don’t want to see him hurt.

Instead, he sizes up your assailant, unfurls those beautiful wings - they always take your breath away - and in one swift move, simply tears you from his grasp. It’s faster than you can blink.

The man makes a muffled sound of fear and shock as Gojo seems to blink back into existence. You know he’s only moving too fast for your brains to comprehend.

“Stay here,” he deposits you on the grass behind him. It’s scorched, burned black from the temperature of his wings.

He turns up the heat. You didn’t think it was possible, but he was clearly holding back. The air seems to melt around him, heat waves shimmering off his skin, his white feathers. They glow with an otherworldly light, radiating heat.

You didn’t know true glory until this moment, and it frightens you. All other versions of blue fade in favor of Gojo’s eyes - a single, unyielding truth. He is a piece of heaven on earth, burning up. His anger is righteous. Holy. His true nature melts away his human appearance.

He’s a seraph, one of the highest order of angels.

You’ve never seen him fight before, don’t know how he gets his weapons or where he puts them. It just appears out of thin air. He carries a flaming sword in one hand, its pommel is white marble, its blade glass. Contrary to common belief, his voice doesn’t boom. In fact it’s all the more threatening because it is soft, a whisper so clearly heard it defies the laws of the world just because it can.

He raises the sword like an executioner and judge all in one.

You barely have time to close your eyes in horror when you realize what he’s about to do.

Real angels are not like the watered down, commercialized ones you can find today in any young adult TV show. Real angels are bloody. Real angels are the hand of God, ruthless and violent.

Real angels have no mercy.

You open your eyes again when you feel the now familiar heat on your skin.

He’s standing before you, beaming. It’s clear he expects praise. In heaven, it might’ve been given to him.

You can only stare at him in fear, not awe.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He steps closer, his burning wings flapping. “It’s okay. I got rid of him. You’re safe now.”

You’re ashamed a split second after it happens because it’s so pathetic, but you can’t help it. Your animal instincts react instinctively to the threat, sending you skittering back on your palms and ass away from him.

He freezes. His wings remain moving. Perhaps, like a shark and its gills, he simply can’t stop.

“You’re afraid of me,” he says, stunned. “Why are you afraid of me?”

The heat from his wings is baking your face. You’re afraid if you speak, your skin will crack. Still, Gojo shows no signs of leaving you alone. If anything, he’s about to get closer.

“Stop,” you squeak. You throw out your hands in front of you like the world’s most useless shield. Your eyes are watering from looking into his radiance.

Helpless, Gojo does something he hasn’t done since he was just a newborn angel.

He asks for help.

Shoko Ieri looks nothing like him, so that answers one question you’ve always had. Gojo tells you she’s another angel, although you don’t see her wings past the first minute you’ve met. After Gojo summons her to the scene and she catches the way you look at him, she keeps them carefully folded in.

She helps you into the passenger seat when you can’t make your legs move to walk back to your car. You won’t let Gojo touch you, feeling torn at the look on his face when you flinch back from him.

He’s sitting on a stool at the island while Shoko checks you over for injuries in the kitchen. There’s no major damage, just the after effects of shock and adrenaline working through your system.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” He says, hurt and confused.

“You fucking idiot. You colossal blockhead. You-“ Shoko pauses, not because she’s run out of things to say, but because she has too many. “It’s not about you, right now, okay? I know it’s hard for you to get your head out of your ass, but can you at least try to be supportive?”

Gojo makes a noise like he wants to protest, but you shift your weight and that draws his attention back to you. The look on your face makes him fall silent.

Shoko leaves after she’s completed her examination, though she doesn’t leave you helpless.

“Do you want to come with me?” She says, carefully. “I understand if you don’t want to be left alone with him right now.”

You shake your head.

“Listen, I know Gojo scared you. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have. He’s always been too reckless - ugh. The stories I could tell you. But I promise you, he will never hurt you - not just because he cares about you, but because he’s literally not allowed to. He’s your guardian angel.”

“I know,” you say, and that’s the end of that.

There’s an uncomfortable silence after Shoko leaves. You’re not sure how to navigate the once easy relationship between you and Gojo now. Always unable to keep still, he breaks the silence first.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” He says softly. Everything about him is dulled, even the gleam of his brilliant hair. He’s back within his human skin, even more modestly than before, as if he has taken care to seal up every crack that his true nature could spill out of.

You choose your first question carefully. “Why has the lord sent a seraph to watch over me?”

Seraphs are the highest level of the hierarchy of angels. They maintain the order of the world, fulfilling God’s will. For one to have come to you-

True horror is sinking in. You love your saints. You worship them devoutly, knowing each story by heart. You could trace a path through the church library of all the books you’ve read on them, giving the history of each spine.

You do not want to be one of your saints.

Joan of Arc died at 19. Saint Agatha was canonized for being tortured violently.

By sending you such a strong protector, your lord may be condemning you to die young, but that’s not why you cry. You cry because you are too weak to fulfill his command.

Life is sweet. You don’t want to give up the taste of tart oranges on your tongue, the feeling of the babbling creek over your feet, the songs of the birds in the morning. You don’t want to give up Gojo’s wake up calls, or the feeling of flying.

All these selfish, worldly pleasures should mean nothing to you when faced with the lord’s call, and yet-

You resent it still.

You’re so confused by it all. Why were you given such a burden and told nothing about it? What does any of it mean?

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. We don’t get told anything but who we were assigned to.”

“Okay,” you say.

“That’s it? Okay? I scare the shit out of you, and all you have to say is okay?”

“Gojo, I don’t want to fight anymore. Let me just go to bed, please.”

You’re woken up not by the light of Gojo’s halo, as you’ve gotten used to when he comes to your room demanding breakfast, but by the sun. The curtains are open, and sunbeams stream in over your pillow.

Gojo is in the kitchen making - not burning - breakfast. He doesn’t turn when you pad into the kitchen on slippered feet, but you know he knows you’re there. You’re feeling much better. Sleep has refreshed you from the major shock to your system last night, and now you feel almost half bad for your reaction to him. He only wanted to help you, after all.

It’s not his fault he’s strong. At the end of the day, he’s just another gear in the universe, like you. Neither of you are important enough to be privy to the greater, divine plan, not even a seraph. You shouldn’t have snapped at him. You’re in this together.

You stand on tiptoe behind him to peer over his shoulder into the pan.

“I’m making you breakfast,” he says. Is it just you, or does he seem almost shy?

What an impact you’ve had on him. Your heart breaks. You’ve only known him to be bold and uncaring of human customs like politeness. You didn’t think it would upset you to see him learn manners, and yet-

It’s a consequence of your rejection last night, as if he’s worried you’ll pull away again. This isn’t what you wanted, ever.

“We should talk,” you say.

“Yeah. We should.” He still won’t turn around, avoiding eye contact.

Before you can speak, he blurts out, “ Do you not want me to be your angel anymore?”

“Of course not,” you say, reaching out for him. He’s hesitant to let you pull him closer, take his hands in yours. “Gojo, why would you think that?”

“You’re scared of me,” he says, almost petulantly, like a sulking child. “You don’t like me anymore.”

“Gojo,” you can think of nothing to say but his name. Sweet Gojo. Selfish Gojo. Gojo, who you’ve gotten used to having around. Gojo, who has infiltrated your life and now thinks to leave like you can kick him out like that. Like you would. Gojo, who you’re fond of in a way you can’t articulate, despite the way he takes and takes from you. Gojo, who you’re willing to keep, despite everything.

Gojo, who you care about, enough to want him to stay.

Gojo, who cares about you, enough to want to leave.

He takes this like a rebuff and wrenches his hands out of yours.

You grab his face and forcefully drag his attention back to you. His eyes are wild like a trapped animal, but there’s no sign of fire. He’s carefully dampened any kind of godliness in him.

“Oh, Gojo. Please don’t. I want you with me, I promise. I would never ask you to leave.”

“You don’t have to,” he says grimly. A soldier to the end. He knows how to do the hard things. Sometimes, you have to cut the rot out before the wound festers.

“I am scared of you - please don’t make that face. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Your heart? What about mine?” He bristles.

“I trust you. Let me prove it. Take your wings out again. Show me your true self.”

“After seeing how you reacted?” He scoffs, turning defensive. You’ve exhausted his goodness, and now his emotions are getting the better of him, making the situation ugly. But you knew this would happen.

You know him.

And you know how to deal with him.

“Come on,” you say. “Think of it like exposure therapy.”

“I don’t want to see you look at me like that again,” he admits.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you say. “Please. Do you trust me?”

He ends up on the ground cross legged, his wings spread, back to you. His wings are fiery, but carefully controlled. He won’t burn you.

You start small, running your hands all over his wings. They rustle underneath your touch like startled animals. When you tug gently at the ends, extending them to their full length, you realize how monstrous his wingspan truly is. From tip to tip, they’re larger than a grown man is tall. Your fingers creep along the thin ridge of his radius, deceptively thin beneath your fingers. If you didn’t know better, it would snap easily with just the barest hint of pressure.

He makes a small noise. You jerk back, worried you’ve actually bent the bone, but he’s fine. He pushes his wings back under your hands like a puppy seeking attention.

From the radius, you trail along the top edge to his metacarpus, then down to his feathers, all the way back to his scapula. From there, it’s only a few inches over to his actual shoulder blades. He shudders when you touch him there, your fingertips lightly grazing over the bone. You press down gently. His muscles flex under your skin, tense and wound up.

You realize that he's been suspiciously quiet for a while. He’s too still, as if he’s purposely holding himself in place. Have you hurt him without knowing? Would he tell you if you had?

“Gojo?” You pull your hands away from his wings and he shudders as if he’s been burned. “Look at me.”

He won’t turn, so you grab him by the chin and force his head up so you can look him in the face. Even down on the floor like this, he’s tall. His face is pink, his eyes wide like he’s been stunned. He looks almost like he’s in pain.

“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you say anything? Does it hurt?” You fret over him.

“Doesn’t,” he says hoarsely. “Feels too good.”

You freeze. It’s this sight of an angel in all his celestial grace wrecked by your touch, brought down by just the brush of your fingers, that makes you realize it.

It feels good to have an angel at your feet.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader

583 notes · View notes

behoright · 1 year

Text

ultraviolet disguise l s. crosby

don’t be so naive / you know that you are all I see

summary: Sid makes you apologize after you give him attitude all night.

wordcount: i literally don’t know how to word count on my iPad please someone tell me I swear it’s not too long maybe 4k

song: tonight you are mine - the technicolors

warnings: minors dni! Contains a whole lot of cursing and smut. Quite degrading and rough as well, so please read at your own discretion.

a/n: plotless, plotless smut. poor proofreading lol. When I say I would let this man do anything to me, I mean it. Feel free to fill my inbox with your thots. Love you always.

(＞。☆) ✒️ ˚‧ ⌗ ⌗ ⌗ ⺌

“Where is she?”

“Can someone go find her?”

Your group of friends was currently shivering on the sidewalk, in the Nova Scotia winter, as they drunkenly waited for their rides to take them home. All necessary interactions exchanged, and many waiting to happen behind closed doors, only a couple of people were sober enough to round up everyone and finally call it a night.

Sidney being one of them, noticed instantly they had left you behind.

In all honesty, he was cranky and tired, the frustration having built up from babysitting a bunch of wasted people.

“Isn’t she a grown ass woman or whatever. She can figure it out on her own.” someone slurred.

“Alright, I’m not missing our Uber because of this.” Sidney said, making his way back inside the bar with a huff. No one was coherent enough to go back in there anyways.

The place was packed, people happily mingling at every corner; thankfully, Sid had a great height advantage to almost everyone, so was able to spot you effortlessly through the chattering crowd.

As he walked over to you, thoughts and memories of the messiness that constituted your friendship plagued him, his heart quickening pace inside him.

“Are you done or what?” he spoke loudly above the music and chaos.

“Almost.” you said as you barely turned around to acknowledge him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you, let’s go.” He replied impatiently.

“I’m waiting for this guy to gi-”

“I really don’t care. We’re leaving.” he said, strictly, inching his body towards you and the exit.

Sidney used his physical edge to push you through the crowd, hurrying you with his haste steps right behind you.

“I don’t need you to do this, you know? I’m an adult.” you hissed as you kept walking.

“Well, then maybe start acting like one.”

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” you exclaimed, turning around and bumping into his chest. Despite your size difference, Sidney felt like he ran into a brick wall.

He sighed, grabbing your arm harshly and pulling you into the nearby bathroom.

“What is your problem?” he said, raising his voice while locking the door behind him.

No one was going to use the bathroom until he figured out where your attitude was coming from.

“I haven’t done anything to you, Sidney.” you muttered.

“Oh yeah? You’ve been acting like a bitch the whole night.”

“Woah. What would the press say about hometown superstar Sidney Crosby using this kinda language?” you snickered, crossing your arms.

“Why are you being so… mean?” Sidney’s eyes narrowed at you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just, fucking, pushing me away all night, like I don’t even exist.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t kiss your ass like everyone around here does.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“That’s NOT what it is and you know it.” he yapped.

“I thought you said I needed to stay away from you. I’m too young or whatever.”

Sidney hadn’t rejected you per se, but at that moment, you both recalled the conversation from a while ago.

The conversation that was supposed to put all flirting to a half.

From both of you.

Supposed to.

“It’s not only that, Y/N. You’re Mike’s niece, it’s not right.” he replied, running his hands through his dark hair.

“Fine! Then why are you so mad when I ignore you?” you prompted, throwing your hands up.

“Not only did you mostly ignore me, you, were fucking rude the rest of the time, and I mean, you’re obviously so fucking desperate too.” Sidney almost word vomited, clearly ignoring most of what you said.

“How, Sidney? Literally, how?”

“I mean, look at what you’re wearing!”

“I meant how was I rude.” you said, making him blush at the miscommunication, too embarrassed to even respond. “Why are you worried about my dress so much?” you teased.

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking annoying.”

You knew what this was.

Like a child, throwing a tantrum to get their mother’s attention, basically.

It was obvious to you that bowing down to his ridiculous comments wasn’t an option.

Not yet.

“You like it?” you said, running your hands down the cheap fabric that sat tightly against your body.

“No, I did not say that. I don’t like it.” he muttered, slightly looking away from you.

There was something quite entertaining about rendering a huge, masculine man down to this blubbering of a mess.

“Why not? Is it too slutty for you?” you laughed.

Sidney’s eyes were burning into you, now quite differently than before, as he turned his attention back to you fully.

Nevertheless, he remained silent.

“You holding back, Sid? Why? You don’t want to call me a slut to my face?”

“I would never do that.” he hit back, his low voice echoing in the tiled bathroom.

Looking out of the small window for a second, you sighed. It was too late, and everyone was waiting anyways.

Perhaps tonight you’d throw in the towel. He obviously already had.

“Whatever. We need to go anyways.” you said, walking towards the door.

“No, we’re not leaving until I get an apology from you.” he hit back, positioning himself between you and the exit.

Or… maybe he hadn’t, you thought, seeing that spark still in his voice.

“Good fucking luck with that.” you laughed.

“Just say you’re sorry.”

“I should be asking for the same thing, I mean, you’ve been pretty rude.”

“Because you were rude first!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up.

“Do you hear yourself? I thought you were the “real” adult here.” you snickered.

He took a step closer just to have you take a step back.

There was no conceding tonight, actually.

He wasn’t getting any apology out of you anytime soon, and the more you stood your ground, the heavier his chest began to heave.

Unbeknownst to him, you knew Sidney perhaps too well.

He was simply too easy to read, always hiding under the hockey personality facade.

It might have fooled anyone else, especially, any other girl, but not you.

Throughout the months you had spent together, it had been incredibly simple to get to know him.

It was only after he distanced himself away from you that you decided to press his buttons.

He fell for it each time, his impulsiveness and real, undercover feelings exposing him and failing your tests constantly.

“You’re really, really pushing it tonight, Y/N.” he muttered.

“Fuck if I care.” you said, raising your shoulders.

Poor Sid, you thought, such masochistic tendencies he had.

If he could only burst his media trained bubble for a second, you could’ve had fun with that together.

“Fucking say sorry.” he repeated, once again.

He was slowly beginning to unravel, his feelings showing clearly through the tense muscles of his body language.

“Or what, Sidney?”

“God, you’re such a fucking brat.” he said, raising his voice, louder than ever before.

“Oh, there he is. Finally, you’re saying what you really think.” you smiled sweetly at him.

“You’re so fucking spoiled, it’s driving me insane.” he said, keeping the slow walk going towards you.

“Keep going, Sid, you’re just making this more enjoyable for me.”

“Yeah, of course this kinda of shit turns you on.”

“You’re one to talk.” you say, flicking your eyes down at the noticeable bulge in Sidney’s pants.

“We’re at a club, Y/N. Not everything is about you.” he said, rolling his eyes and yet attempting to close the space between you two.

“Then why are you here with me?”

“Because you won’t listen to me!” he exclaimed, his legs still moving towards you. “Is this what i have to do to get you to listen?”

“…Yes.” you whispered, and Sidney felt like he finally was starting to break you down.

“Drop the act, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on.” he sighed.

By now, Sidney had covered all the space in the bathroom, and found himself face to face with you against the wall, your fiery eyes looking up at him.

You had walked around in circles enough with him, literally and figuratively.

“If I could spit in your face I fucking would.” you said roughly, your eyes stuck inside his chocolate eyes.

“Do it, then.” he said, his face tilted down towards yours.

“Enough, Sidney.”

The smirk that you had so proudly sported all this time was long gone, Sid building up enough courage to now talk back to you.

“I thought you wanted to? Do it, then. Spit in my face.” he encouraged, smugly.

“You fucking wish.” you said, pushing against him with your chest.

“Woah, woah, calm down, now.” he chuckled, his fingers wrapping around your arms to keep you against the cold tiles of the bathroom.

You couldn’t hide the way his touch made you feel - you had dreamed to be in his hands for a while, and feeling him now just made you wetter.

Unfortunately for you, he noticed right away, his expression morphing into puzzlement as he took you in.

“Look at you. You like this, don’t you?” he asked, incredulous.

“Never in a million years.”

“Then what is this?”

Sidney’s eyes flickered down to your breasts, the hard nipples poking through your dress instantly giving you away.

“It’s cold, Sid.”

“I don’t know, your skin feels pretty warm under my hands.” he raised him eyebrows, moving his hands slightly up and down.

Plan foiled.

“Is this what this is all about?” he questioned, but you kept your lips zipped in frustration.

Sidney took an impossible step forward, your chests coming in contact.

“If I touch you down here, Y/N, what will I find?” he asked, trailing his fingers down your left arm gently.

“I don’t know, maybe if you ever fucked a girl before you’d know.”

“That’s a good one, baby.” he laughed. He couldn’t help it, seeing you so feisty just… for him.

That was all you wanted, apparently.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours, looking for approval as he lingered his fingers in front of your sex. As he got what he needed, he wasted no time in moving your underwear to the side.

“That’s what it is. You’re just dying to get fucked right.”

Sidney whispered a heavenly oh my god as his calloused, thick fingers rubbed your folds.

“Did raising my voice make you feel all hot inside?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re fucking soaking my fingers, Y/N. Quit lying.”

He knew he could stretch you out immensely just by using a couple of his digits; but he decided not to, taking his touch just to your entrance and circling your clit, with no added pressure, making your head painfully fall back.

“I’m barely touching you and you’re already moaning. You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he coaxed.

No witty come back spewed out of your mouth, the slight relief and building anticipation of indulgence growing deeper within you.

“You really want to be put in your place, huh? That’s all you want?”

His touch had you at a loss for words; you could barely nod in between needy whines.

“Stroke my cock, c’mon.” he said, his voice husky as ever, as he placed your hand on top of the swollen erection that was poking through his dress pants.

It was becoming hard to focus, hard to touch him right, Sidney refusing to dip his fingers at any point inside you, instead just painfully teasing you.

“Oh, you just think I’m going to fuck you like that?” he asked, dropping his hands away from you.

“Fuck no. Work for it.” he said aggressively. “Get on your knees.”

Your knees found the floor promptly, betraying your will but getting a satisfied smirk out of him.

“Look how obedient you’re being now, huh?” Sidney said, his fingers fastly undoing his pants in front of you. “Open up, baby. Let me see your tongue.”

Sidney slapped his cock on your tongue a couple of times before thrusting inside your mouth, not giving you a chance at any action but to wrap your lips around his girthy cock instantaneously, moaning in satisfaction.

“Holy fuck.” he moaned, letting his head lull forward with his bottom lip secured under his teeth. “This is what I have to do, isn’t it? I have to treat you like this, for you to-, to-, fuck, oh my god.”

You pulled Sidney’s length into your throat, your muscles tightening in a gag around his thick head, mostly in order to break him further and to stop his gloating.

“God, where did you learn how to do that, fuck.” he groaned deeply, lacing his fingers in your hair, instinctively massaging your scalp sweetly.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re choking on my dick like this.” he continued, his thighs tightening and clenching under your hands as you bobbed your head on him, thick saliva building at the back of your throat as you somehow devoured him more and more.

If he was holding back any moaning, it was hard to tell, his abs visibly clenching whenever you took him deeper and he, consequently, moaned louder.

“This is a good, good way to say sorry, baby.” he growled, his head thrown back, but stopping your motions right away.

“I’m not saying sorry, Sidney.” you said, pulling away from his cock so quickly that you were left with a trail of spit connecting you back to his glistening head.

He felt his chest fill with anger and lust, desire.

All he wanted to do was take you home and fuck you until you couldn’t talk back to him any longer. He instinctively wrapped his fist tightly around your hair, pulling you up by your locks.

“Look how messy you are.” he muttered as you came to your feet, his big eyes trailing over your shimmering chin, dripping in spit and precum. “Come here.”

Sidney shoved his tongue inside you, placing his other hand around your throat gently. He loved to keep your head steady as he overwhelmed your mouth, running his tongue over yours with no rhythm or caution, simply taking whatever he wanted.

“I guess I just have to fuck this attitude out of you.” he said against your lips as he pulled away breathless. “Face the fucking wall.”

As he turned you around, you did your best to hide the huge smirk on your face. He was finally going to give you what you both so desperately wanted; despite what he said, Sidney’s actions had always proved different than his words.

He hated that he had such a hard time resisting you, that he spent his night thinking about you with his cock throbbing in his hand, but he couldn’t wait anymore.

The rubber band had finally snapped.

Sidney squeezed your ass, your silky flesh crinkling in exquisite pain through your thin dress. He kept marking you with his fingertips as his other hand roughly pulled down your minuscule underwear, letting it trickle down your legs as he directed your ass towards him.

He tried to keep his composure as he pulled your dress up, the traces of his fingernails on your skin illuminated by the small ray of the street lamp that came through the high bathroom window.

It was hitting you perfectly, actually, so much so that he could see the glob of your wetness leaking out of your entrance, your pussy angled perfectly towards him.

“I would tell you how pretty you look like this but you don’t deserve it.” he spit out, beginning to stroke his member up and down your slit.

“You’re so fucking needy for me. I can’t believe how wet you are, God.”

Without warning, Sidney filled you up completely, ripping a gasp out of you as he gave you no time to adjust. His size made it hard to breathe or even keep your legs from wobbling already.

“Yeah, you’re not used to taking big cocks like this, aren’t you.” he questioned, readjusting the grip in your hair once again. “Well, you’re going to tonight.”

He began to fuck you, almost savagely, every mouthwatering plunge hitting your cervix and stretching you to your max. Sidney grunted deeply every time he moved. He knew that as much as he tried to keep it together, you could see the cracks within him, giving into you. But he knew he couldn’t back down without teaching you a lesson.

“Say sorry.” he groaned in your ear, but all he got in response were sweet moans.

Frustrated, Sidney picked up the pace, slamming himself harder against you and inside you. Your body rebounded against the wall harder every time, an aching starting to cover every inch of your skin, seeping within you and mixing with the unrelenting desire that he was sending through your being.

Whenever he wanted, Sid would move his right hand, squeezing and grabbing any bit of you that pleased him.

He was big enough to have access to your every part.

The back of your thigh, or the side of your tummy were covered in his fingertips, flecks of his rough handling beginning to dot all over you.

Your nipples oversensitized, having been rubbed against the freezing tiles through the fabric of your dress were the only sensation cooling you down as he kept increasing his rhythm, his heart pounding heavily against your back.

“Yeah, I bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, tilting your head so he could see you. “Look at those pretty eyes rolling back. Fuck.”

The sounds that filled up the room were filthy, he thought.

Sidney felt primal, taking you in the bathroom of a sleazy bar, not because he had let himself go, but because it pleased him to put you in your place.

The buckle of his bell dinging against his pants as he sped up.

His heavy breathing fusing with your candied moans, reverberating against the empty stalls.

The squelching of your bodies united, drops of want and longing and frustration running down both of your legs, splattering against the ground or soaking his pubic hair - it was so dirty and out of character for him.

Only you drove him to this.

Knowing that he was the only one that could hear this, all of it being covered by the muffled sounds of the raging bar outside, made him grip your hair a little tighter each time he focused on it.

This was the closest he had ever been to your face. Underneath the light sheen of makeup, he could see your skin turning a deeper shade of red; those big and thick lashes he loved so much batting irregularly. He noticed you wanted to regulate your response to him, attempting stupidly to keep your pupils focused on him instead of oscillating to the back of your head once again.

But he could see right through you.

He could see you struggle, with your telling high pitched moans, trembling underneath his touch.

It exasperated him. Delightfully.

“You want to cum so badly, don’t you? Yeah?” he asked, almost mockingly.

You nodded, the pull from his hand making the roots of your hair sting more and more, pulling your face in such a pathetic way that kept Sid’s cock covered in wetness.

“Too fucking bad. You don’t get to until you apologize.” he barked, pressing your heating cheek against the wall.

Your defiance was obvious; you decided to keep this little game going a while longer, considering it made him so mad and delirious, pushing his pelvis so forcibly against you that your ass bounced audibly on him.

“Apologize. Be good, c’mon.” he uttered in your ear, doing his best at holding back his groans as he slowed his thrusts down.

Playing was for two people, after all, and he knew the change of pace would be what you despised the most. It was immediately evident, groans of desperation pouring out of you.

Still, you could see stars of pleasure as you squeezed your eyes tightly in anguish.

“Now, Y/N.” he demanded, a hand coming down to spank you harshly.

If it was up to him, he would have kept this going forever.

He had thought about a million ways to punish you throughout the whole night.

You were lucky he only had a public bathroom available at the moment.

He could feel you on the verge of breaking, both in the cracks of your voice, the fact that you were pushing back at him slightly, your body looking for more, and of course, your cunt clamping firmly on his cock through the wetness. He made the decision to keep the thought to himself as an attempt to keep you as tamed as he had you at the moment.

All he needed was to slow down even more.

As adorable as your squeals were, and as much as they made his dick twitch noticeably inside you, he wasn’t going to let up.

“I’m sorry, Sid.”

Eureka.

For once, Sidney had the upper hand. He made you putty in his hands and you equally knew it.

“Good job.” he said, fucking you roughly again.

He went back up to max, tightening his jaw as your pussy sent waves of toe curling pleasure down his cock. He was leaking inside you, precum spilling all over and painting your insides.

“I’m so sorry, Sidney, I’m sorry.” you repeated, his eyes on your face.

“That’s okay, baby. Just once was good, love. You’re so good. So good.” he said placing his lips against your cheek.

The act of tenderness made you quiver.

If you had let up once, you could finally fully let go.

You could feel his pupils dilating in lust as your mouth was stuck open, blaring your sobs and cries as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks.

Ceaseless in his fucking, he seemed to thrust harder as he got closer too.

Sidney refrained from rubbing your clit. He wanted to, yet this was still a punishment.

“Atta girl.” he coaxed. “Keep coming for me, baby. Can you do that?”

You nodded dumbstruck, your eyes crossing deplorably as you kept shaking in bliss.

Sidney was focused on you; he noticed a silver thread of spit leave your bottom lip, your face still roughly pushed against the wall with his force, and he lost it.

“I need to cum, baby, I’m going to cum inside you, fuck.” he hastily groaned.

He growled deeply, thrusting all the way inside you and grinding into his orgasm as his cock let out hot cum within you.

“Fuck, baby, fuck.” his growls were deafening, numbing you and traveling throughout the stuffy air.

As you came down, you could feel him spasming yet inside you, his face still furrowed in a heated sweat - he had bottomed out inside ou, his strong pelvis lifting you a couple of inches off the ground, levitating under his gratification.

Soreness began to overtake you as the pleasure let down, all of Sidney’s muscles relaxing into you with a sigh; your heels clicked as he let you back off the wall slightly, pulling his cock out of you as he was still huffing.

The pain hurt so good for you both, breathing against each other as you tried to catch your breath at the same time.

“Look at me.” he said, turning you around so quickly you could have lost your balance, especially after he fucked you like that. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Seeing his usual sweetness come back made your heart swell, a smile growing on your face.

“I’m okay, Sid.” you said, biting your lip shyly.

“Now, what we’re going to do is…” he began after kissing your forehead, bending down to pull your underwear up, “put these on, keep my cum inside you, okay? Like a good girl, yeah, while we go out and grab a ride to my place. Yeah?”

You nodded, aroused that he wanted to keep this going.

“Good job.” Sidney placed his hand on your lower back, walking you to the door. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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