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#you know what makes me insane is everyone who meets him saying it was the best experience ever and that he’s so sweet etc etc like ??
rreids · 2 days
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hey, i was wondering if you'd be able to write smth with Spencer in a relationship with someone with bpd? it's totally okay if you're not comfy with that, but I've just been suspecting i may have it, and ppl with bpd are always portrayed so negatively in relationships. it would be just rly nice to read ur take on how Spencer would handle that and just see some positive representation! (my mental health has also been shit so it would be p comforting lol) thank u 🫶
hi love 🫶 i don't know a ton about bpd, so i hope i did this justice! i researched the diagnosis and how healthy relationships help with regulation and in what ways they do (both accounts from experts and from those who are diagnosed). and i hope you feel better soon <3 it sucks when your mind fights against you.
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PROMISES • S. REID X READER
reader has bpd (written by an author without, ideally will be comforting rather than hurtful. please let me know if it is offensive in any way); gn!reader; spencer has to break a small promise but makes others; talks of therapy; teasing; fluff; ~500 words
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“Hey, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers into the phone, voice a little strained. “I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t make lunch today. We’re on the way to a case in Omaha. It’s a really bad one.”
Your heart sinks. “Oh.”
“You know I want to be there more than anything, right?” He’s shuffling papers in the background, and you know they’re in the middle of getting ready on the jet and that he’s still making time for you, but it still makes your mind race with worry and upset. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. And I promise I’ll take you out as soon as we’re back.”
You frown, fiddling with the promise ring on your finger. “Will you still talk to me?”
Spencer chuckles. “I think I go insane when I go too long without hearing your voice. As long as you don’t mind calls when it’s two a.m. there, I’m calling before bed every night I have enough time.”
You sigh.
“I know, honey. When’s your next meeting with your therapist?”
“Tomorrow,” you mumble, gnawing on your lip.
“Well, you have permission to talk about how much I suck,” Spencer teases lightly. “As long as you know it’s not by choice that I’m being a bad boyfriend.”
“You’re not a bad boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re the best boyfriend. You understand me.” He does. He’s looked into BPD extensively — he knows even more than you do, rattling off statistics, assumed causes and connections, coping methods, everything. He knows how to break you out of the spirals and to calm your impulsivities.
“You have other boyfriends?” Spencer sighs dramatically, and you laugh.
“Why would I have them? You’re more than enough.”
Spencer hums. “I am, aren’t I?” 
You groan.
“I’m messing with you,” his voice is fond and soft. “I gotta hang up, everyone’s coming and we need all our focus on this case. Message me if you need anything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t do anything,” you know you’re exaggerating, but it’s hard to stop the words.
“I do, just nothing out of our normal,” he’s nudging you gently, reminding you to think things through before acting impulsively. “I give you permission to watch our show without me if it’ll keep you entertained.”
You laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll be good,” you draw it out.
Spencer snorts. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Spence.”
A beat.
“I’m not actually going to talk shit about you to my therapist, just so you know. I do talk about you though.”
And then you hang up. 
He sends you a ‘???’ and a ‘I wanted to say something still.’ right after. When you tell him to say it, he sends a ‘Do what you need to feel regulated. I don’t take it to heart, you know I don’t.’
And he doesn’t. He’s so sweet, so achingly perfect, understanding of when your moods swing, or when you feel empty, or whenever anything changes and you can’t tell why. 
And he always helps you down, kissing scars and tears and whispering praise as he gets you to feel right again.
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mingtinysworld · 2 days
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Adrenaline Rush
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Pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader
Genre: smut, fluff
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: Jongho needs to blow off some steam after he's not satisfied with a performance, and you happen to be there for his assistance. Not that you mind.
Warnings: MDNI, rough, mean jongho, one face slap, throatfucking, hair pulling, degradation kink, use of names like (fucktoy, cumslut), cum swallowing
A/n: I SWEAR I did NOT plan to make Jongho this mean??? But it's ok because he's all cute and sweet at the end. I do love me a mean jongho though. Enjoyyyy please like, comment, and reblog!! - J<3
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You nervously wait backstage, eyes on the monitor as staff put up the intricate set pieces for Ateez's stage. You know how hard the boys have worked for this insanely monumental opportunity. Especially Jongho, who has been nonstop belting his voice to perfect the high notes.
A few hours prior, Jongho had started feeling pain in his throat. He was afraid of letting down the group when he's known to be the powerhouse vocal that he is. You knew that no matter what, he would do an amazing job, but you were nervous on his behalf due to his harshness to himself.
You let out a stuttered breath and bounce your leg as they go on stage. They look majestic, and everyone in the crowd seems to absolutely love them. They perform almost their whole set, everything being more than perfect. You feel like crying from how proud you are, of each and every member. Then it's time for Wonderland.
This is the song that Jongho has been nervously dreading. The intense belt of 4 octaves leaves him to dread it every time. But you know that he kills it every single time, and you're certain he will today as well.
He steps forward, takes a deep steady breath, and goes for it. It's as if angels have come down to make you ascend with them. You're convinced that Jongho is not a real human being, he's an angel. No one could be that perfect, that talented, that beautiful. Your jaw is wide open with amazement, and you feel like you could cry.
They take their bows as the crowd erupts with so much love and appreciation for Ateez. They start walking offstage and you go to meet and congratulate them. You scream and clap as they emerge one by one, making them look at you with exhausted adoration. As soon as you see Jongho you lunge towards him, looping your arms around his neck and squealing with excitement.
"Babyyyy oh my god that was amazing. I'm so so proud of you!!" You give him countless pecks across his cheeks as he holds you loosely. You pull back to see his face is pulled taut and jaw clenched, and you tilt your head in confusion.
"Love? What's wrong?" You ask with a pout.
He closes his eyes for a few seconds and takes a deep breath. He leans closer to your face and speaks with a barely recognizable voice.
"If I don't fuck your face right now I think I might explode." He says intensely.
Your eyes widen at his admission and you feel like you're hit with lightning from head to toe. You swallow thickly and attempt to speak but all that comes out is a jumble of words.
"Jongho w-why are you so intense?" All you feel at the moment is pure arousal, slick coating your thin underwear. He groans dramatically and hangs his head.
"I messed up and I'm so goddamn angry right now I can barely speak." He manages with gritted teeth.
"But you did-" Before you can finish your encouraging sentence he grabs your wrist and spins you around, holding it behind your back. He leads you towards an empty costume room and you can feel his solid body walking right behind you.
"Shut the fuck up and let me use your mouth. The only good use for it apparently." You comply immediately and let him handle you like a rag doll, enjoying every second of it. As soon as he locks the door, he throws you down to the floor and you look up at him with a wide eyed expression that is screaming "ruin me."
It would truly be a shame if he didn't complete your request, so really he's only being the generous and giving boyfriend that he is. You take fluttery breaths in anticipation and sit there looking so pretty and pliant for him.
He steps forward and with one hand caresses your cheek gently. You close your eyes in bliss and lean into his touch like an obedient kitten. That is until he delivers a harsh slap to the same worshipped cheek. You jolt in surprise and hiss at the sting his palm left, but you stay as still as possible to be a good girl for Jongho.
He smiles like he just won a reward. Maybe he did because the sight of you in front of him is enough to make him burst. He pulls down his pants low enough to pull his aching cock out, but still being mostly dressed. He's leaking so much precum that it's threatening to spill onto the floor and you have to resist the urge to just lick him clean immediately.
He hooks a thumb into your mouth, lifting your head backwards to a point of almost discomfort. The light bounces off of your glazed eyes, making them look like pools of desire and helplessness. He pushes down on your tongue and you don't waste any time wrapping your lips around his digit and giving him a preview of what's to come.
Patience running thin, he pulls his finger out of your soft mouth with a pop, and gathers your hair into one fist. With the other hand he guides his leaking member into your awaiting mouth. You instantly choke around him, somehow forgetting how thick he really is. You try to breathe calmly through your nose to control your gag reflex.
He slides in farther, reaching to the entrance of your throat. He gives an experimental thrust and goes through the restrictive barrier between your mouth and throat. You instinctively swallow around him, resulting in him throwing his head back and groaning. He loses all self control and starts using your throat according to his needs.
He sets a wild pace instantly, hips never stuttering. He hits the back of your throat so sharply that you're sure you'll have giant bruises leftover. Jongho seems to have ascended to a completely different world, with his eyes closed like he's enjoying a nice yoga session. You dig your fingernails into your palms, leaving crescent indents. You want to do your best for Jongho, be a stress reliever, be the best fucktoy he's ever had. It's as if he's read your mind, because in the next second he starts to degrade you to the point your head feels cloudy.
"Who's a good fucktoy? Yeah that's right, you are. Forever my little cumslut aren't you? God I love the way your mouth feels, I could fuck it forever." The only thing you can do is let out pathetic whimpers to confirm his words. You love being used by him, being his toy. As he nears his orgasm he goes even harder. He's now using your hair to pull you back and forth along his length, sending pleasurable sharp pain to your abused scalp.
Your nose meets his stomach and you're held there while Jongho's shooting his load into your throat. You sputter and gargle around him, releasing droplets around the side of your mouth. His stomach clenches in and out as he empties everything into you. As soon as he pulls you off of him you start to cough intensely. He immediately locates a water bottle to soothe your sore throat. You gulp it down greedily, savoring every precious drop.
He helps pull you up, and supports your wobbly form. Even if he treats you so roughly, you're always his princess first and foremost. He runs a gentle hand down your back, rubbing soothingly.
"Did I do too much, my love?" He whispers worriedly.
You shake your head assuredly. "No baby, you were perfect. You were perfect on stage too you know." You croak with a raised eyebrow. He laughs at your expression and softens up.
"Oh what did I do to deserve you? I just think the world of you sweetheart." He rests his head against your forehead, breathing deeply. Your heart beats loudly, feeling the flutter of a thousand butterflies inside. You break apart and give him a cheeky grin.
"I demand a bath and a massage." You raise your head defiantly, daring him to disagree. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief.
"You don't ever change oh my god. How about I do you one better? I'll give you a bath and massage while singing you your favorite songs. Followed up by some very cuddly cuddles. What do you think?" He asks.
"I think you have yourself a deal mister Choi best singer and performer Jongho." You give him a bow and he playfully smacks you.
"Alright alright, get it together." He pretends to grumble grumpily.
"Okayyy mister bear." You retort while running away.
"HEY.” He says while chasing after you.
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bobluvbot · 1 day
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birthday blues
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pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: first time godfather sirius goes shopping to find the perfect first birthday gift (jily + baby harry ♥️) wc: 5k a/n: me tryna heal canon trauma ❤️ because in my world everyone lives happily ever after !!! my lil celebration piece for hitting 200 followers! thank u all <3 not proofread, english is not my first language so plz be nice heheh
“What’s the store called again, sweets?”
even as a young kid, one of your biggest pet peeves is repeating yourself for more than four times. three is pushing it. your parents told you its a bad habit to take to adulthood because you’re bound to meet people who just don’t get what you’re saying the first or second time around. But one Wednesday morning, when you asked from upstairs where your favorite periwinkle socks were and your parents downstairs said something that the loud dishwasher and vacuum covered up, you asked them to repeat it again (still can’t hear), and again when you moved closer to the staircase down (barely heard any), then you heard your father’s heavy footsteps up, personally shoving in your waiting hand the said pair of socks.. only damp. “Honey, I said three times already, that they were still in the dryer,” your dad had huffed before heading back downstairs. That’s when you knew it was genetic. 
But, you love Sirius Black. It’s gotten to the point where in the honest, sensitive hours past midnight, while there was nothing much to do as you let sleep creep up from your tired limbs to your fluttering eyelids, but to watch peace settle on the raven-haired boy’s sharp features, ethereal and glowing like an angel even in the dark of the night; that you realize he may be the love of your life. It’s a scary thought, with fears of being too eager, too soon, too much—- so you tuck it in a little pocket and give it a nudge when you need a reminder of how big and true its growing with each second spent together. 
You love him, so you breathe out the snarky irritation away in slow heavy puffs and inhale peace, choosing to exercise patience because you know Sirius is nervous. 
“It’s Spintwitches Sporting Needs, love. ‘s right across Ollivanders if I’m not mistaken,” you say, taking his free hand in yours and rubbing small circles on his knuckles to calm some of his nerves down, while he drives through busy muggle London streets to park by the Leaky Cauldron. He throws you a soft smile and gives your hand a quick squeeze as thanks, grateful to the heavens that you’re here to keep him from going insane.
You know him enough that, while the day in question is not about him, or you, or your relationship, it meant a great deal to Sirius. 
He had one chance (even if you’d argue otherwise) to make things right, do things the right way the first time around with Harry. James knew this fact by heart, which is why he and Lily agreed in a heartbeat that Sirius should be little Harry’s godfather, as it was meant to be. He would do anything, go beyond means, hell, even against Merlin himself just to ensure the safety and happiness of his godson. 
No one, however, was expecting it to backfire and it caught you and Sirius off guard. Once the tears dried and elation diffused, the anxiety kicked in for Sirius, and in turn you. He knew what the opposite was, parents who robbed their own sons of happy childhoods and disowned him when he got brave enough to find happiness and protect it, he had lived it. And now that he has a chance to save an innocent soul from a similar fate, he was determined, but this fact scared him shitless.
He wanted everything to be perfect (who wouldn’t?) and gave everything he physically could to make James and Lily’s Harry’s life easy and happy. Seeing Sirius buy ‘How to Dad?’ books and pour over them at night or on his free time at work was undoubtedly an attractive and loving sight. In a span of a week, he knew which is the best formula to supplement with breastfeeding, toys to pick that stimulate early brain development, even clothes made with hypoallergenic materials that won’t irritate the sensitive newborn skin. It came to a point where James would ask him for advice when Lily’s at work, and Sirius would put on his trusty reading glasses and point at a specific passage of ‘How to Dad?’ that answers James’ question perfectly. 
Eventually, you did have to put your foot down when you found Sirius writing a howler to a baby food company when rumors started going around that their baby snack puffs (which Harry was obsessed with) had harmful chemicals in it. In typical Sirius fashion, he wasn’t convinced that easily. You’d bet that what pushed him off the howler letter route (and in turn protect the statute of wizarding secrecy) was seeing you spend lots of time in the kitchen to perfect making banana and strawberry baby snack puffs from scratch until the recall was over and the food was deemed safe to be consumed again by experts and Sirius himself. 
Hearing many iterations of how the newborn days and months go by so fast was difficult to believe at times, especially when you and Sirius were babysitting to let the exhausted parents get some sort of reprieve multiple times a month. It was almost always the same. Harry would sleep for four hours straight during the night, and almost hourly right after; and while you and sirius had gotten pretty good at dividing up the tasks like bottle feeding and nappy changes equally, the shrill cry of a hungry baby is difficult to ignore and sleep through. 
So despite of Sirius’s best efforts to crawl out of bed and tip-toe to the bassinet quietly not to wake your sleeping form, he gets sad but unsurprised to see you pad towards him and the baby, yawning soundlessly as you squeeze yourself between the soft armrest and Sirius’s side, head resting on his shoulder. It was his idea to get a spacious, soft recliner in the bedroom and it came in handy for situations like these, where getting back to bed once Harry sleeps is too risky as the boy would just wake up with the slightest movement, so the next best option was to try getting rest wherever you ended up in. The cries that once overpowered Sirius’s hushed whispers and cooing finally quiets down. A sigh of relief leaves both your lips, basking in the comfortable silence and bodies finding solace in each other’s warmth. 
You want to say so many things to your lovely boyfriend, things he just has to hear: that he’s doing such a great job, that you see him and all the extra steps he has to take to become and do better than what he was raised for, that you love him for every single bit of it— but the right words don’t come easy when sleep-deprived and exhausted at 4:25am in the morning. So you lift your lips up to meet his temple, the side of his mouth, then his lips; hoping it’d convey what words couldn’t at the moment. 
But time is an experienced thief. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May and it was warm enough for you to whip out the frilly spring dresses that had been pushed to the back of your closet by the thick woolen coats from colder months. The boys had gone on a day trip to help Peter move into his first solo apartment, assembling furniture and stocking up on necessities to ensure he could survive on his own. Without the booming voices and bumbling energy of his father and godfather, little Harry had no choice but to match the calm and peaceful ambiance that you and Lily curated inside the Potter house. While it’s certainly different from what his everyday looks like (living with the likes of James), he seems to enjoy it. Gentle breeze from the windows Lily left open while she baked carry the smell of lemons and vanilla throughout the entire house, making it smell heavenly. You’d been sat on the floor by the dining table, surrounded by toy trains and colorful blocks, watching the ten-month-old munch on a toy graphorn adoringly. Recently, he’s been on a phase where he has to run anything he could get his hands on with his mouth. Some secret test or screening must be up there or something because that’s how Harry decides which toys are deserving of his attention for the day.
You’d picked up a toy set of magical creatures after work yesterday, and it won the almost toddler’s attention for the whole day. James had to snatch the toy niffler away from Harry’s grasp so he could say goodbye to his son and ask for a kiss. Safe to say there were no kisses exchanged because the little boy was too busy wailing and screaming at his father’s face. Lily had to create physical distance between her two boys so the younger one can calm down while the older got mopey. Sirius had to whisk his best friend away from the scene of the crime so that they can get on with the day, but not without leaving you a kiss. 
The said niffler had soon been replaced with the hippogriff, then now the graphorn, and it’s been sitting on your lap since. Harry suddenly pulls the toy graphorn out of his mouth with a resounding pop. You both share a second or two of shocked eye contact and silence, his bright green eyes wide with surprise, before triggering a belly flipping laughing fit. This child could shock himself with a sudden burp or an unexpected sound of hitting random things with a fork, and you’d laugh every single time like its the funniest cutest thing you’ve seen in your life. It’s likewise for the rest of the marauders. Being the first baby of the group had all the adults wrapped in his pudgy fingers and he has no idea. 
Harry’s eyes drop from your smiling face to the Niffler on your lap, and makes grabby hands. You almost, almost give in, but you decide to encourage him to go get it himself. Maybe today’s the day he starts to walk. You move to him a bit closer, probably a good seven baby steps in between. 
“You want the Niffler, bud? You have to go get it from me!” You make a show out of grabbing the toy from your lap multiple times, hoping it’d make sense to the little boy. 
He whines something sounding like your name and does more impatient grabby hands. But you weren’t giving up without a fight. “C’mon, Haz! You can do it,” you say enthusiastically. 
Harry did know how to stand and good thing you were both sat near the dining table chairs, so to alleviate some of your aunt guilt you tuck the niffler away and out of Harry’s reach, before helping him up to his feet and urging him to grab one of the chair legs for support. 
He stays upright, eyes still on the toy that you place again on your lap as you return to your original spot, and you clap with glee. “Great job, buddy! Okay, only a few steps to me and you’ll get the toy!”
Lily, curious to see the commotion happening on her kitchen floor, leans against the counter for a better view. Harry sees this and does the same thing, he looks at her pleadingly while making grabby hands and pointing to the niffler on your lap. You can tell the redhead’s fighting the mom urge to make her child’s life easier, but thank the heavens when she gives your same answer. She even moves to kneel beside you, waving to get her son’s attention and pointing at the niffler on your lap.
“C’mon, my sweet boy,” Lily says. “Mama knows you can do it!”
Motivated by frustration as his aunt and own mother won’t just hand him his goddamn toy, Harry whines angrily but makes a sideways step closer, death grip still on one of the chair legs. You and Lily squeal and clap in delight, urging the boy to do it again.
He makes a move for another step, but realizes that there’s no more legs to grab onto. Reluctantly, his right hand lets go and in turn faces you and Lily. This results in another round of applause, which serves like a drug to these little babies. 
An anxious expression fleetingly appears on his face as he looks to you both, but the encouragement and cooing seemed to scare those big feelings away. Determined, Harry makes an unsure step forward without support, which then makes both yours and Lily’s heartbeat jump. It all happened so quick, the fear of losing balance triggered Harry’s other leg catch him on impulse, then the same on the other leg, then the other. Harry’d made four successful steps on his own before his mom catches him in her embrace before he topples over to the floor.
You and Lily were a sobbing, exultant mess. Harry, clearly confused about the commotion, whines for the niffler while Lily kisses him all over his face. You hand it to his waiting palms like a trophy before ruffling his unruly hair.  An attempt for words has been made, but all that came from your mouth are garbled phrases about the miracle that just happened. Lily nods in agreement and you hug them both back. 
This ten-month old just walked. This is the same baby that kept you and Sirius up at night for his feedings. The same baby responsible for the drool and spit up marks on your shirts. The same baby that  laughs and babbles with you like he understands when you tell him random stories. The same baby that squeals in delight when you blow raspberries on his belly. 
It felt like he had just been born a few days ago, memories of changing hundreds of nappies and preparing bottles of milk still vivid in your mind. But it’s earth shattering to consider that he’s closer to being a one year old than to the little bundle handed to you by James in the hospital room. 
Time is unrelenting, stealing mundane moments behind your back and when you realize the loss, poof! The newborn you held in your arms is now a walking toddler. Soon, he’ll be the one talking your ears off, going to Hogwarts, driving a car.. You shiver at the thought. He was growing up so fast that blinking felt like cheating, afraid that you’ll miss a precious moment that you’ll never get back. 
His first birthday came in the same manner— too fast for both yours and Sirius’s liking, but the wistful feelings came with excitement as Harry being a toddler opened up lots more opportunities to play and discover the world around him. James and Lily had spent the whole month planning a big birthday bash to celebrate the kiddo’s life, inviting all their loved ones to share the special day with them. And with that, the pressure was on for Sirius, as the self-proclaimed best godfather to get the perfect first birthday gift.
It’s like the heavens knew it was a special day for you both that it made sure to put out the best shopping weather one could ever ask for—- not too warm or too cold. It was a Tuesday afternoon, which meant the adults were kept in workplaces and children sent to Hogwarts or in homeschooling, leaving Diagon Alley nearly deserted, minus the occasional stray shoppers entering and leaving shops here and there. Clad in color coordinated couples outfits (that was your thing recently, Sirius more than happy to oblige) and hand in hand, you begin the mission to locate Spintwitches Sporting Needs. 
Nostalgia always finds a way to seep into your bones whenever you find yourself in Diagon Alley. One blink and suddenly you’re ten again, both hands tucked in each parent’s as your mom pours over the list of school supplies you’ll need again for your first year at Hogwarts. You and Sirius see Ollivanders at a short distance and hear the entrance bell chime, the very same sound you heard when entering the shop for the first time, the shopkeeper taking one good look at you before immediately rummaging around the store, grabbing a specific box located on a random shelf four stories up. The look of confidence when he says it’s made just for you, a magical glow enveloping your tiny frame while opening the magenta box. That same magic guided you to a world where you truly belonged in, a castle that felt so much like home, and friends that soon became found family and lifelong partners. The thought of Harry soon experiencing these moments leaves a giddy feeling in your chest. 
The smoky sweet scent of freshly roasted chestnuts catches your attention and you discreetly look for the source of your favorite warm snack. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sirius (hardly nothing ever does, even the things you wish he’d miss or forget), and he gives your hand a small tug. You try to be aloof as you return his waiting gaze, complete with a quirk of your eyebrow, to which he responds with an impish smirk towards your bad acting.
“You’re not fooling anyone with that look, sweets.” The amusement in his voice is palpable as he steers you away from the main walkway and towards the small chestnut stall tucked in an alleyway, almost hidden by the bigger shops surrounding it.
“But, the store’s right there, Siri,” you try to protest. He had been anxious and stressed out about this day in particular, you knew if you were in his shoes, you’d be beelining to the store as soon as you get off the car. But he just shakes his head like its the obvious choice and nods towards the cart. “Can’t have my girl hungry now.” 
After a failed attempt of trying to pay for the warm brown bag (you were no match for Sirius’s lithe, agile fingers in basically everything), you accept it with a sigh, giving yourself a few seconds to sulk before starting on the chestnuts. You weren’t the best at accepting things from other people just because, it always felt like you had to do something in return for them just to deserve it. Maybe that’s why the universe conspired to have you meet and fall for Sirius, who is a very enthusiastic giver, teaching you hard lessons on the daily.
As you begin the journey back to the shop, you carefully crack open one and hold it up to Sirius’s mouth, to which he happily obliged. “Mm, somehow chestnuts taste better when you handfeed me, dove. Do it again.”
You roll your eyes in response, but you find your fingers starting to peel another. “You’re lucky you’re good looking, Black,” you mutter to save some face, that you weren’t head over heels for this man and he to you. That’s a conversation to be had in another, less stressful day. 
The shop, painted electric blue and orange, wasn’t hard to miss. One step in and the welcoming aroma of broom polish, rubber, and smoky wood brings you right back to the Quidditch locker rooms; memories of frantically lacing up your boots a minute or two after James called you as backup for an injured beater, helping Marlene comb out the tail end to fix the broom alignment after practice, and getting pinned to the cool lockers during post-win celebratory makeout sessions with Sirius, replaying vividly in your head. 
It looked deceivingly small on the outside; aside from the expansive selection of different broomstick models, they had books and magazines about Quidditch strategies and featured famous matches, repair and maintenance kits for maintaining broomstick qualities, complete Quidditch gear for all shapes and sizes, and tiny practice snitches flying around the room. Squint and it’ll just be like how each Hogwarts common room would be decorated when there’s a big Quidditch match between houses or international ones in the world cup: streamers and accessories like horns and banners representing each team, posters of Chudley Cannons and Holyhead Harpies (in opposing corners to prevent unsolicited fights) accompanied by autographs of famous players and collectibles littering almost every surface of the walls. It was Quidditch dreamland. 
Still in awe admiring the displays as you both walk through aisles hand in hand, Sirius breaks the silence first. “What do you think Harry will play as in Quidditch?”
You hum in response and he continues, running his hands through the bat display they had for little kids.  “I bet he’d be a beater like me. You remember how that punk hit me straight on the face last week?” 
You nod in amusement. Sirius had played it cool as he gently laid Harry back in his playpen, still laughing and cooing, then as soon as little Harry turned his back on his uncle, Sirius ran to you for first aid and whined the whole time you were healing the already forming bruise. But not a few hours later, he’s bouncing the baby in his arms again as he gave him a tour of the backyard. 
“Yeah, those little fists definitely pack a punch.”
“How about you, love?”
Sifting through a year’s worth of memories, it was surprisingly easy to find your answer. “I think he’ll follow James’s footsteps and be a seeker.” 
Sirius’s pout becomes evident, making you giggle and tug on his arm in efforts to cheer him up. “Think about it. Ever since prongslet got those glasses, it’s harder to hide anything from him now because his eyes are so quick. Poor Crookshanks too, that cat can’t catch a break now when Haz wants to play because he tracks its movements.” 
Sirius lets out a soft chuckle and slings his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer. “Good point, good point,” he repeats, seemingly deep in thought as his fingers run up and down the small of your arm. “We shall see, whatever he decides to play as, or if he even plays at all, I’ll be proud of him.”
You look up to him as he absentmindedly stares at the Quidditch gear sets for little kids, a light, wistful smile on his handsome features. He might not say it out loud, but the love he has for his godson reverberates through his being, and its a warming sight to see. 
Before you confess your love for your boyfriend in the middle of a Quidditch store, you whisk him away and towards the toy broom display, the only thing you were both here for. Only the big bright signs directed you to the right place, which didn’t prepare you at all for the heart exploding sight.
You’re about to burst into tears seeing how cute and tiny the little toy brooms were, and how they came in complete with tiny versions of the headlights, seats, and bag compartments the usual adult broom comes with. Both you and Sirius stood with mouths agape for a solid minute as you took in the expansive display, before your lovely boyfriend proceeds to pick out the most expensive one with the most features on it from the batch.
Surprisingly, it was you who reminded him to grab a helmet before running off to purchase the toy broom, the giddiness and excitement spreading between the two of you. The cashier gives both of you a knowing look as you and Sirius both mellowed down from full giggles to bashful smiles, examines the broom to be purchased, and asks, “For your little one?”
Now, you were no stranger to conversations like these with former lovers in the past, and you could almost hear the typical response of denial that comes swiftly with the question. It used to hurt, even if you knew by heart that that person didn’t have the fifth date potential or that it just wouldn’t last. It’s that unexplainable feeling of shame and rejection when they’d realize that it won’t work with you before you would, or if they answer with a laugh, as if having a future with you is an appalling thought. You’ve gotten better with it throughout the years, but for some reason your skin crawls with the thought of Sirius saying the same things. Years of desensitization down the drain, you find yourself bearing your entire soul to the man beside you the entire relationship, and he can easily break you into two with his response. You cross your fingers that he won’t.
He was already looking when your gaze met his, a look of softness and tenderness from him so profound you wondered if you were deserving of it. The surge of butterflies in your belly was all consuming. 
Sirius shifts uneasily and shakes his head, you prepare for the worst. “For our nephew, not for our own child..,” he pauses, glancing back at you for a quick second. “Yet. But if all goes according to my sneaky plan, we might be back sooner than she thinks.”
The cashier chuckles at your stunned reaction as you shift your focus between him and your boyfriend who was both furiously blushing and actively avoiding your stare. Did you just get a marriage proposal? 
Taking advantage of your confusion, Sirius pays for everything including the gift wrapping, which you had previously argued about who was responsible paying (you won, not that that matters now). You let him tug your arm and guide you out of the store, saying a quick thank you to the amused cashier. The influx of butterflies were back, tickling your insides and spreading warmth in each crevice. Just seeing Sirius handle the rambunctious mini James with care and glee, makes it so easy for you to imagine a life with him, and eventually have a little bean that’s equal parts of you and him. You hope they’d get the best parts of both.
No one brings it up as you began your journey back to the car and you’re grateful. Gift bag swinging on your arm, you drag Sirius to go get ice cream to which he happily obliges. 
A gentle quiet settles on accomplished shoulders like a warm blanket as you settle in the car. Strawberry and vanilla fudge ice cream sticky sweet on each other’s lips as you exchange cones every once in a while. It would be enough to lull you to sleep, if not for Sirius’s deep breaths and sighs, the thundering of his heart that he tries to quell by discreetly scratching a small part of the steering wheel where his thumb usually lay. 
He breaks the silence first, an uneasy tone making his voice seem small. “Do you think he’ll like it, dove?”
“Yes, Siri. I know he’ll love it.” You try your best to enunciate the right words, but a conflicted expression marrs his handsome features, sending a twinge to your heart. 
It comes to you before he speaks. This was something that had been plaguing Sirius’s mind for a while, occupying his dreams and thoughts, embedding itself to his mind and causing unwarranted amounts of stress. You resist the urge to fill in the blanks for him because it has to come from him and him only. 
But after everything he’s been through, what seems easy for most sometimes is the hardest to muster. “Siri,” you pause, waiting until he looks up at you and you keep his gaze. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
His gray orbs still before the dam breaks. “I’m sorry, love.” He chokes. “If I’m being so difficult, irky, irritated, anxious, everything.”
Hot tears run down his cheeks and it’s a painful watch. wanting nothing but to wipe it off and tuck him in your embrace and promise him he won’t be hurt as long as you’re there, but you can’t. The best thing you could do for him is to let it all out and finally feel.
He stares ahead on the city road with fingers trembling on the wheel. “I’m just so scared. So scared. James and Lily have been amazing parents, I can’t say same thing for myself but I try my best. Sometimes I still feel like he deserves someone better to be his godfather,” he sobs. “I just love him so much. I want only the best for him. I just want him to be happy and healthy all the time.”
After a while, you say with a bittersweet tone. “You know we can’t promise that, Siri,” you sigh. “Storms will come and will do damage and hurt and things that we can’t undo,” you pause, sniffling as you take your right hand to guide him to face you again, vulnerable gray eyes meeting yours. “But you know what?”
You give him an assuring smile, speaking the truth. “He’s gonna be alright because little as he is right now, he is so loved and adored by so many people, so loved by his parents. And so loved by his godfather.”
It wasn’t said aloud, it doesn’t need to. Loud as it could be, Sirius knows what you’re about to say; that his ability to love despite of everything he’s been through, despite of his own family ruthlessly trying to rob him of the ability to do so. That’s the type of love that Sirius gives, a love that withstands rain and abandonment; a love that stays after a rough storm, offering a home always open to go to when times are rough and feelings are still hurt; a love that tells the truth even when its hardest to hear. 
You know all this as an easy fact because you’re at the receiving end. Even if you hadn’t heard it from his lips yet.
“Have I told you I love you?”
A watery smile spreads on your face as you shake your head. “No, but i feel it everyday.”
“I love you, Y/N.” It leaves his lips like breaths, naturally and easily. 
It’s the same thing for you, too. “I love you too, Siri.” 
And it ends with sticky kisses that taste of vanilla fudge and berries.
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ickypuppi3 · 1 year
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oh !!
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franeridan · 7 months
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focusing on that one panel of apoo being downright shocked and offended about the fact that law would help luffy since law's known for being ruthless and luffy's gonna be trouble for all supernovas in the future anyway to avoid thinking about the horrors
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obaex · 2 months
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(not) my girl - rafe cameron
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summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.
word count: 3.4k
a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡
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You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.
You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.
Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.
Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.
“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”
You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?
“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.
“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.
“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.
He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.
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You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.
You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?
You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.
You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.
If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.
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The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.
Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.
“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.
You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.
You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.
“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.
Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.
“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.
You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…
You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.
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As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.
You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.
“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.
He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.
Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.
Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.
Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.
For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.
Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.
He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.
“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.
You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.
“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”
JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.
“Rafe we were just—” you started.
“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.
“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.
And that was the very last straw for him.
“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.
At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.
“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.
You held out a hand to stop him.
“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.
His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.
“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.
You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.
You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.
You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.
“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.
“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.
“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.
You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.
He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”
You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.
His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.
“Deal” you replied sweetly.
You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.
“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”
He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”
You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.
“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”
He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.
“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”
You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.
He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.
“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.
“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.
“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.
You sighed, relenting.
“Olivia” you said.
He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.
“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.
You shook your head at him.
“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.
You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.
He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”
He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.
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taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
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saetoru · 6 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
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suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.
“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”
“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”
“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”
“you had a cult too.”
“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”
“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”
“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”
“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”
“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”
“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”
“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”
you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.
“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”
“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”
“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.
“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”
“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”
“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”
“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”
“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”
“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”
“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”
“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.
it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”
“you took the kids too,” you remind him.
“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”
“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.
“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”
“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”
“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”
“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”
he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”
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hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
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scuderiahoney · 4 months
Text
After All
Charles Leclerc x bestfriend!reader
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Masterlist
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, tooth rotting fluff
Charles is a lot of things. He’s determined, hardworking, a bit of a self sacrificing dumbass. He’s kind, talented, humble, confident, soft. He’s your best friend, your closest confidant, the person you would trust with your life.
And, according to everyone who’s ever seen the two of you together, he’s madly in love with you.
…..
Pierre’s the first one to say it. He’s known both of you the longest, he’s one of Charles’ best friends. He sidles up next to you on a warm afternoon. You’re both on Charles’ yacht, leaning against the railing and watching as he does a backflip off the deck and into the water.
“He’s going to hurt himself,” you point out, “and Ferrari will not be happy.”
Pierre snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “He is showing off.”
You give him a look of disbelief. “For who?”
Before he can answer, you’re drawn to look at Charles again when he calls your name. You watch and wave at him, and then he lines himself up for another stupid trick dive that makes your stomach lurch. He makes a splash when he lands, sinking deeper and deeper till you can’t see him through the bubbles. Just when you start to worry, just when you feel like he’s been under too long, he resurfaces. He kicks himself to the surface, hair plastered to his forehead, laughing raucously. He’s suddenly the boy you met at 13, big dreams and big plans and a big personality to get him there.
“You,” Pierre says, jarring you out of your staring. “He is showing off for you.”
You roll your eyes and elbow your friend. “What? He is not. Why would he be trying to impress me?”
“Because he is in love with you,” Pierre states, so matter of fact you almost don’t realize what he’s saying. “Come on, it’s obvious.”
“He is not!” You laugh, shoving at his shoulder lightly. “Jesus, Pierre, the fumes from those engines must really be getting to you.”
Pierre opens his mouth to speak, probably to rebut with some insane theory he’ll present as fact. He’s interrupted by Charles calling your name again. This time he’s waving you down to the back deck, eyes sparkling. He’s going to want you to jump in. You have a fear of heights, a fear of falling, a fear of deep, open water. Despite it all, you head down to meet him anyways. Charles could talk you into anything, could make even the scariest things seem easy.
“You have to hold my hand, though,” you say, when he urges you to jump in with him. “The whole way, no letting go.”
“The whole way,” he promises, knitting your fingers together.
…..
It’s a bit of fate that you end up in Suzuka for the race. You hadn’t been planning on going, but there’d been cheap flights available when you looked the week before, and suddenly you’re off to Japan. Charles is thrilled about it, always happy to have you there, even when he’s busy and barely gets to see you. He says there’s something comforting about knowing you’re in the garage or the stands.
He takes you with him to as many things as he can, including the pre race media days. The second you meet up with him after you get to Japan, he’s talking non stop about Sebastian’s Buzzin Corner project, and your heart melts at the excitement in his eyes. He’s been missing Seb lately, having a tough go of things and searching for guidance.
You watch from behind the scenes, behind the cameras, as the entire grid arrives to make pollinator hotels and decorate canvases. You smile when Sebastian spots Charles and runs over to give him a hug, and you smile even bigger when Charles follows Sebastian around like a lost puppy. Sebastian seems just as happy to be near Charles again, stopping by to check on Ferrari’s progress frequently.
Charles turns during a lull in the event, when the cameras are on another team and Sebastian is distracted, too. He waves you over, eyes bright, smile wide. You can’t help but be drawn towards him. Any time he wants you nearby, you go willingly, eagerly.
He has paint on his fingers, speckles of it on his shirt. Charles is creative, too. He doesn’t get nearly enough chances to show it, in your opinion. He’s stifled by brand deals and the public eye and overbearing management. You stand next to him, eyeing his and Carlos’ artwork with a soft smile. The pollinator hotel is filled with supplies, the roof is decorated, and Charles tells you excitedly that they’ve already had their first “guest”. He hands you a paintbrush when nobody is paying attention.
“You should add something, chéri,” he says, nudging you lightly.
You look up at him, twist your face into an unsure smile. “Am I allowed to?”
“Of course,” Sebastian says, having made his way back around to the Ferrari team. You smile at Charles’ old teammate as he pays your shoulder lightly. “It’s not exclusive, you know.”
You laugh, reaching out with the paintbrush and adding a small heart next to the stripes and stamps the guys have painted on. “A little love for the the pollinators and bugs.”
“You weren’t saying that about that spider last week,” Charles teases.
“It was in my hair,” you say through gritted teeth, looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t slander me in front of Seb.”
Carlos is giggling, watching the two of you. Sebastian is doing the same, his eyes lit up reminding you of years ago when he and Charles had been teammates. He’d joked about the two of you exhausting him, with your boundless energy and constant flip flopping between bickering and affection. You’d insisted you were the ones keeping Sebastian young.
Someone calls Charles and Carlos over for a photo op. You peruse the bee hotel while you stand next to Sebastian. There’s a lot of people’s artwork on there, but somehow you think you know which brushstrokes belong to Charles.
“I see not much has changed,” Sebastian says, nodding his head towards Charles. “He calls you darling and then teases you in the same minute.”
You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “He is my best friend, both of those things are his job.”
“Ah, to be young and oblivious,” Sebastian says in a lilting tone.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughs, tilts his head at you. “Just that my wife was my best friend, once.”
You narrow your eyes at him. The glare has no effect if the grin on his face says anything. Sebastian is older, wiser, and Charles trusts his judgement on nearly everything, but you know he’s wrong about this. There’s no way Charles sees you as anything more than a friend. You’ve come to terms with that. You can live with that. You have to live with that.
Charles makes his way back over to the two of you, hands in his pockets. You plaster a sunny smile back on your face and try to ignore the way Sebastian is watching the two of you. Charles is telling you to paint something else, pointing out the empty space left on the canvas and the bee hotel.
He takes your hand, still wrapped around the paintbrush, in his own. He dips it in the black paint, leads you over to the wooden structure, and adds another heart.
“More love,” he says, singsongy, squeezing your hand. Behind you, Sebastian barely muffles an affectionate laugh. “More love for the bugs.”
…..
“This is my favorite song!” You yell over the booming bass.
You have a drink in your hand, your… 6th? of the night? You’re not sure, you’ve lost count. Charles keeps handing them to you every time your gets low. It’s always tequila and soda, always with two limes.
Charles laughs, shaking his head. “You have said that about every song in the past hour.”
“I mean it this time,” you say, eyes wide. You’re standing up from the table, pulling on his arm. “C’mon, we should dance, Charlie!”
He groans lightheartedly. Really, all of this should be your sign to cut yourself off. You don’t like dancing, and you rarely call him Charlie. Everyone calls him Charles, so you’d let the nickname go years ago. You’d worried it made you sound childish, made you sound like you were holding onto years past. He doesn’t budge from his spot in the booth, watching you warily.
“Amour, I don’t like this song as much as you apparently do,” he says, shaking his head. “And I like dancing even less.”
“Fine,” you say with a pout. “I will find someone else, then.”
You melt into the crowd before he can pull you back into the booth and down to earth. You’re at that pleasant stage of drunk where everything is funny and fuzzy and floaty. You spot Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, at the bar, and she needs much less convincing to join you on the dance floor. She abandons Alex with George and follows you eagerly. It’s Las Vegas, you’re here to have fun. This is fun. The two of you squeeze through the swirling mass of people till you find a good spot.
You don’t know how long it’s been when Charles finds you there- you just know you’re sweaty, a few drinks deeper, and past the point of no return. The song that’s playing now is your actual favorite song, a fact that you tell Charles when he steps in front of you, his hands on your waist to steady you.
“I know,” he says, because of course he knows. Nobody knows you better than him. “I also know you are drunk.”
“M’having a good time,” you tell him, wrapping an arm around his neck. It’s just to keep you steady, you tell yourself. “Vegas, baby!”
Charles laughs, shaking his head, but he starts to sway to the music with you. One hand stays on your hip, but the other comes around to your back and pulls you closer. You like being pressed against him, like being able to feel the warmth of him even through the fabric of your clothing. You don’t think before you spin in his grip, press your back to his front, keep your arm around his neck behind your head. Tomorrow morning, or rather, later today, you can blame it on the alcohol.
Charles wraps his arm around your waist in response, and you swear you feel his lips on the back of your neck as he pulls you in again. You’ll blame that on the alcohol too.
It’s like you blink, and then you’re standing out on the sidewalk, surrounded by the lights of the Las Vegas strip. The night air is cold, and you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the talk of a night race in the desert and the temperature.
“What’s so funny?” Max asks.
You’re surprised to find him standing next to you, and you blink at him.
“S’cold,” you say, unable to explain the rest of it. You just giggle again. “Where’s Charlie?”
Max raises his brows. “He went inside to get your jacket. You left it in the booth. Remember, five minutes ago, when you said it was cold?”
Huh. You don’t remember, but Max is probably telling the truth. He and Charles are more of friendly rivals than enemies now, despite their formative years. Max is definitely not trying to kidnap you as revenge. He has nothing to get revenge for- he won the race. Maybe he’s bitter that a Grand Prix he talked about so negatively had ended up being one of the best of the season, you suppose. Though you’re not sure that would give him a reason to kidnap you-
“I called him that once,” Max says, and you tilt your head at him. “Charlie. He didn’t like it.”
You remember. It was in Brazil, when they’d all been gathered in a garage. You’d seen it in a video. You can’t admit that, though, without admitting you watch tiktoks of your best friend, so you stay quiet on that subject.
“He thinks it’s childish,” you say with a shrug, scuffing the toe of your shoe on the ground. “I… forget, sometimes.”
You forget that Charles isn’t just your thirteen year old friend, the guy you’d never expected to even tolerate you. You can’t remember how it even happened, how you went from barely saying hi in the halls at school to dinners with his family, homework at their kitchen table. You’re not sure it matters now. What matters is keeping him a part of your life.
You’ve adapted. You’ve let pieces of him go, like childhood nicknames and any hope he’ll ever look at you the same way you look at him. Charles is larger than life, now. You’re still small. You’re still thirteen sometimes, still sitting at the table, begging Charlie to help you with your math problems.
“That’s the thing,” Max says, nudging your side lightly. “He doesn’t seem to mind when it’s you that says it.”
You frown. “Oh, he definitely minds.”
Max shrugs. “He doesn’t show it, then. Probably because he loves you.”
You nod solemnly. “I am his best friend.”
“Right,” Max laughs. “Sure. Friend.”
Charles reappears shortly after that, your jacket in hand. It turns out Max isn’t even leaving- he’d just been tasked with keeping an eye on you while Charles went back inside. He says goodbye and goes back into the club, while Charles is checking his phone, telling you the car should be there any minute. The night has gone from fuzzy to blurry, and you lean heavily on Charles’ shoulder, blinking repeatedly and trying to stay awake. He pours you into the backseat of the car, drags you out of it ten minutes later when you get to the hotel.
“You are so drunk,” he says, standing in the elevator, your head against his chest.
“I know you are but whatamI?” You slur, tugging on his jacket.
Charles just laughs. Even if he could understand you, he wouldn’t get the reference. His hand is resting on your shoulder, fingers squeezing your bare skin softly. You’d taken your jacket off as soon as you got inside, complaining about being hot. Charles had just taken it from your hands with an exasperated smile.
“I think you should sleep in my room,” he suggests when the elevator dings and the doors begin to open. “So I can keep an eye on you.”
You’re not that drunk, but you’re not going to argue. “Yeah, okay.”
When you wake up in his bed in the morning, Charles is asleep on the couch. He’s stretched out, one arm hanging off the edge, one foot on the armrest. His blanket is tangled in his limbs, and you feel guilty, suddenly. It was his night to celebrate, and he’d ended up taking care of you, ended up sacrificing his hotel bed and sleeping on the sofa. You sit up, feeling sick to your stomach, and not from the hangover.
“Lay down,” Charles says, not even opening his eyes. “S’too early. You need more sleep.”
“I should go to my room,” you whisper, and he opens one eye and looks at you warily. “That couch cannot be comfortable.”
“It’s not,” he admits, and the guilt lurches in your gut again. He’s smiling, though. “You tried to insist on sharing the bed, but you were very drunk.”
That’s not surprising. Drunk you always wants Charles close. You direct your eyes to the comforter and muster up all the courage you have left.
“I’m sober now,” you tell him. “So either we share the bed, or I go to my room. You look so uncomfortable.”
Charles hesitates for only a second. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, if you’ve crossed the line. But then he’d shifting, untangling himself from the blankets and tumbling off the couch. He crawls into the bed next to you, sighing happily as he sinks into the mattress. Seemingly almost without thinking, he reaches out, slips his arm around your waist, and hauls you against his chest. You let it happen.
There’s something sacred about the time between morning and night. The sky is a purple hue outside the hotel room window. The halls are quiet. Charles’ heart thuds in your ear, steady and beating out a soothing rhythm, and nothing about this feels out of place. It’s like this is where you’re meant to be, tucked against him, slotted together like puzzle pieces. You wrap your arm around his upper arm, and he pulls the blankets over the two of you.
“G’night, Charlie,” you mumble.
He laughs, and it’s a sweet sound. There’s no hostility behind it. “Goodnight, amour.”
…..
There’s something to be said about your inability to see something as it is until it’s staring you in the face. You’re stubborn as a mule, and maybe blind as a bat, too. It’s not till the holiday break that it all clicks into place.
Charles is sitting next to you at your kitchen counter, decorating cookies. You’ve been baking all weekend. It’s your grandmother’s recipe, now your responsibility to keep up the tradition. There are batches set aside for your family to decorate later, another set for the cookie party you’re holding with some of your friends from university. But Charles had whined and begged about wanting to decorate cookies, about wanting to be a part of the tradition, and you’d given in oh so easily.
He has a heart shaped one in his hand, a knife with red frosting in the other hand. He’s being so delicate, so particular, like it means so much to him. It’s just a cookie, you want to say to him. You hold my actual heart in your hands every day without a care, but you’re so delicate with a cookie?
Except, then, you’re thinking about it, and maybe that’s not true. Charles is brash and bold and confident, but he’s never anything other than gentle with you. He cares deeply, throws himself headfirst into things, he’s all or nothing. But when he’s around you he lets his guard down, takes the time to think. He’s cautious, heartfelt, kind. He takes his time.
“Max asked me to play padel today,” he says casually. “To make up for him missing our match.”
You laugh, though it feels a bit forced. You’re watching his hands, watching as he takes the white icing and writes something on the cookie. “Oh? You didn’t go?”
Charles shakes his head. “He wasn’t free till 11:00. I told you I’d be here at 10:30.”
You frown, blinking at him. He’s so focused on the cookie he doesn’t even notice you staring. He hasn’t spent this much time on a single cookie since he got to your apartment that morning.
“You could have come over later,” you say.
He shakes his head. “This was more important. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
It shouldn’t be the moment, is the thing. Nothing spectacular happens. It’s not like he’s made some big confession, not like anything drastic has changed. Somehow, you just know. He looks up at you, a soft smile on his face, and it’s so, so obvious. You wonder if this is what he sees when you look at him. You wonder if this is what everyone else has seen and told you about. There’s so much love in his gaze that it makes your heart skip a beat, makes your skin feel hot, makes your fingertips go numb. You set your cookie down on the table.
He holds his in his own hand, peering down at it as if he’s judging it in a competition. He turns it between his fingers, leaving a red thumbprint on the underside of it. He has icing on his fingers, all the colors of the rainbow. It’ll probably stain his skin.
“You are always more important,” he breathes, and you can’t breathe at all. “The most important.”
He turns the cookie towards you, but you already know what it’ll say. His initials and yours, in white icing on a red backdrop. He’s been saying it all along, really. The whole way. More love. I know. Somehow it has still caught you off guard, stolen the air from your lungs and the words from your lips. All this time pining after him and you had never actually considered he might be feeling it, too. But it’s there, written on the cookie, and it’s written on his face, too.
You lean in to kiss him. He tastes like frosting and feels like love, and you wonder how you didn’t see it sooner.
…..
A week later, Pierre spots the matching hickeys on yours and Charles’ necks and laughs his ass off.
“I told you,” he says, through peals of laughter, shaking his head. “You are both so blind.”
Charles wraps his arm around your waist, and you shrug. You stare up at your boyfriend, happier than you’ve ever been, the weight of his hand on your hip grounding you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, dismissing Pierre even as he continues to laugh. “We figured it out. That’s all that matters.”
Charles leans close, presses his lips to your forehead. You feel it all. The years of waiting, wondering, wishing. Pierre is congratulating the two of you and saying something about calling Carlos about a bet they’d apparently had. You can’t bring yourself to care. In the end, you suppose, Pierre deserves to gloat. All your friends do.
They were right, after all.
thanks for reading! you can check out my other fics here!
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randomgurl2326 · 2 months
Text
Adam Relationship Headcannons
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SFW
You two met after the whole Lilith and Eve debacle
You were sent to be his Guardian Angel down in the Garden of Eden. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about Eve when he first saw you
He was in the middle of the garden, talking to Eve and then you show up… man’s whipped. Simp I tell you
(Actually wished that you were made to be his wife instead of the baddie Lilith or the goodie-two-shoes Eve)
Again. Whipped.
Now, tho is guy… whewww. He may seem incredibly misogynistic to practically everyone around him. But he can be a total sweetheart
He would—if you didn’t know how to already—teach you how to shred on the guitar
Speaking of guitars, that gold strat that he had during the battle in the last episode is only used during a special occasion (case and point, when you two have a date night or after sex)
He also serenades you every chance he gets
After dinner
After a meeting
After sex
After just walking the goddamn promenade
I also think he would be heavenly (ha! See what i did there? No? Okay…) in the kitchen. Especially for date night. Adam knows how to make the best prime rib in heaven
(Lute totally hasn’t tried to blackmail the recipe out of him)
Adam is also very insecure about how he looks under his mask
Especially after having two wives ditch him for Lucifer
He definitely needs to be praised on a daily basis, even if it seems like he’s an egotistical asshole
Every day you tell him how handsome he is and he doesn’t believe you (c’mon have you seen him fuckin’ hot)
You two sometimes don’t see each other days on end because you both work so much. You being a high-ranking Angel/seraphim and him being well… the first man on Earth
If you guys go especially long for not seeing each other, you guys hole up a few days in your shared home spending time with each other among other things…
By the way, you and Lute are best friends, probably more than her and Adam
Like, seriously, if you’re not with him, you’re with her. Gossiping or fucking around, it’s heaven, there’s infinite things to do
You two are also very lovey dovey with each other
One time Sera had cover Emily’s eyes with her wings because you two were making out and feeling each other up in the middle of the Heavenly Court Room
Despite all of his faults, he’s a good husband to you, a great one actually. And if you two were to ever have kids, he’d definitely be the dad who everyone loves
He would introduce them to rock, punk, metal.
Definitely plays his guitar to get them to sleep every night
NSFW
Okay… he want lying about being the Dick Master. He can pleasure women, that is not a problem for him
Also, it might not seem like it, but he loves going down on you. Probably one of his favorite pass times actually
I swear, this man could make you scream his name within minutes. No joke
Don’t get me wrong, he loves receiving head
But just not as much as he loves eating pussy (Lilith and Eve missed out on that one for sure)
He also has a bigger dick than average
Probably 6-7.5 inches in length and hella girthy. Uncircumcised (duh), and a vein that runs up the bottom of it
Definitely knows how to use it
Every one within a five mile radius of your guys’ house… let’s just say I feel really bad for them
No joke, he is insane about pleasuring you
This probably also feeds into his insecurity about you leaving him (you won’t)
He for sure has a praise kink. Seriously, tell him he’s a good boy and he’s unraveling under your touch instantly
His favorite position is cowgirl (what can he say, he loves powerful women)
But he’s down for whatever position you want; missionary, warrior, against a wall, whatever
Speaking of wall sex, Lute has definitely caught you two more than once
The first time she did was when you two were in Adam’s office while he was supposed to be planning the next extermination. She came to ask him a question about it and there you two were. Goin’ at it like rabbits on the wall next to his desk
She couldn’t look you guys in the eye for three weeks. It was terrible
Adam also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to have sex toys or feel the need to use them
But, again, he’s whipped. So he’s willing to do whatever you want to do
Wont admit this to anyone but you, but he likes to sub every once in a while. Especially with all the ‘first man’ stuff weighing down on him he needs a way to get away from all that stress
Despite him making crude jokes about sex, he’s a very giving partner in bed
He had to make sure you cum at least twice before he gets his dick wet
Also, have I mentioned how good he is at eating pussy? Oh, I have? Yeah, well, he is (especially with that tiny bit of stubble on his chin… gahhh)
Just needed to get it out there
All in all, Adam is a very giving person in bed, can be selfish at times but will make up for it. He loves you too much for you to feel mad or upset (especially with him)
A/N: this was my first time writing for Adam and Hazbin in general. I hope you liked it. I love you all💚💜
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crheativity · 2 months
Note
This is my first time requesting here, so...
Hi! Mind if I send in a request? Hear me out: the track club bois, the basketball club bois and the spelldrive club bois getting a kiss on the cheek from the reader after a successful game/track meet
A KISS FOR THE VICTOR
SUMMARY: After a successful club meet, you give them a kiss on the cheek! How do they react?
WARNINGS: Some of these may be out of character (I’m sorry I still have no clue how to write Jack, Leona and Floyd)
COMMENTS: Hi! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this request, there were a lot of boys hehe! I hope you don’t mind but since there are a lot I did shorter headcanons instead of a full thing for each boy. Also, since I have no experience writing kisses yet, I just did their reactions. I hope that’s okay! This is such a cute prompt though, thank you so much for requesting it!!
Also, if you enjoy this, please consider checking out my 200 followers event!
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TRACK CLUB
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Jack froze, his eyes going wide. He coughed into his fist and looked away, desperately trying to regain his composure. A herculean feat, considering how adorable you looked gazing up at him like that. He smiles at you hesitantly - a small, wavering smile, before his cheeks go pink and he turns away to talk to his teammates. Although it seems he does not care, a keen eye will notice how his ears won’t stop twitching and his tail keeps wagging. 
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Poor boy stopped responding immediately. He tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell over, he got so flustered. He can’t concentrate on anything now. He’s really sorry, he’s trying his best to listen to what you have to say, but his mind is replaying that kiss over and over… He can’t look you in the eye for the next few days. The moment he gets to crash in his room, he calls his mum. He briefly talked about his match, but mostly talked about you. How does he talk to you again after that?? He might be a little awkward over the next couple of days, but know that you’re constantly on his mind and in his heart.
BASKETBALL CLUB
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Oh? You’re gonna give him a kiss? Well tough luck, he expects one every match from now on! So what if he doesn’t win? He wants one anyway! That’s how you can cheer him up after a match from now on!  But in the moment, he’s picking you up and spinning you around. His face is very red - whether from the exercise or from you, it’s hard to tell, but the bright red ears are a dead giveaway. He’s not gonna forget what you did, and loves to remind you - in the hopes that you’ll do it again.
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Time stops for him and he stares at you, dumbfounded. His face heats up and boy does he wish he had his hood right now. He can’t talk to you or face you for the next hour as he struggles to figure out what to say. He does however feel really smug. Everyone in the match did super well, but he was the only one who got a kiss! From you! Ha! …wait. He was the only one who got a kiss. From you. He’s confused and flustered all over again. Please confess to him before he goes insane.
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Ehhh~? Shrimpy’s giving him a kiss? Only one on the cheek? Screw that, he’s gonna give you an actual kiss! And a squeeze to boot. The moment you give him a kiss he registers that kisses are okay in whatever relationship you and he have and boy is he gonna abuse that. What are the two of you? He doesn’t care as long as you don’t, but if he makes you uncomfortable then he wants to know. Like Ace, he’s going to be expecting one for every match now, but if you don’t give him a kiss for some reason that won’t stop him giving you one~!
SPELLDRIVE CLUB
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You thought Ace was bad? Leona’s gonna be so much worse. He doesn’t tease you quite as much, but he’s going to be incredibly smug, both after the track meeting and for the next couple of weeks after. Please be prepared for suddenly more Leona in your life, as the moment you press a kiss to his cheek he’s going to take that as a rite of passage to be almost constantly around you. He will encourage you to ditch class with him as much as possible. He just wants to spend more time with you now, and after that kiss, surely that means you want that too, right?
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Ruggie nervously laughs it off, his cheeks going bright pink as he fumbles for something to say. He honestly, genuinely wasn’t expecting it - you managed to catch him so off guard that he doesn’t quite know how to act. Ah, but he’s not upset! He’s exactly the opposite of that, if anything. Elated, maybe? Who cares, his crush just kissed him! He is going to be bragging so hard to Leona and anyone who’ll listen afterwards. Maybe he’ll start giving you a couple more snacks - with a kiss as payment of course! Shishishi.
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LET’S FREAKING GOOO. wait. Did you just kiss me-? Epel was in such a good mood after his match that his brain didn’t fully register that you just kissed him. He takes a break from celebrating for a moment to double check. When you confirm that yes, in fact, you did kiss him, his cheeks go apple red and he starts celebrating way harder. Calm down? He can’t calm down, this is the best day of his life! He won a match and got a kiss from a cutie to boot! The only thing that makes him calm down a little is Vil threatening to smack him with his shoe.
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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orionlain · 1 year
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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 note: I came back from 2 month hiatus go me! anyways ur gonna see me post more on diff fandoms other than horror. sorry bout that guys love u all tho
𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧
Your window was open for everyone to see, the curtains being put aside, and with that he could easily take a peek at you.
The mirror light bulb shined upon your skin as you were carefully putting your highlighter around the corner of your eyes. The little specks of glitter and your rosy lip balm complimented your looks, and your hair was put in a tidy style. People would assume you were going on a date. A hookup, a party or the bar. But instead, you were staying home tonight. Why? For your job, which was to open the camera and say hello to your followers.
As you finished your foundation and last touch ups, you started setting up the camera in your computer. Browsing from each web page, and quickly announcing that you were going live for all your fans to flock to your stream. You were grateful for your followers, for the money, but as well as them giving the new found confidence you have nowadays. Your outfits had become more flashier, bold and a bit more risque, and he didn’t like that. Your smile lingered on more, and you received more texts than usual, and he didn’t like that. Your new height of fame and laughter was making you less alert. And that was the only thing he liked, knowing that one day you’ll meet your number one fan, which was him.
He couldn’t lie though, the outfits weren’t so bad, he just wished you wouldn’t have to flaunt it to others. Or that pretty gasp you have on camera when you play a horror game, he wished that you were doing that as he put his knife into you instead. He wished, for everything that you were doing, to those stupid men in the same doormat as you, to those girls who were forcing you to party, to those pesky followers who abide by you no matter what you say; was for him instead. And he wanted so much of you. Even if you didn’t know him, and he was there in front of your house right now as you stream, he wanted you to smile for him as well.
It's been months he's been watching you, he knows what coffee you like, what route you take to go to your lecture, what you order in that nearby bakery. He knows who you interact with in real life, your study friends and your family members, he knows which albums you loved when you went to the vinyl store. And he knows what you do at home. You yell and shout at the game, you make niche jokes about your interests to chat. You scroll down in your constant approvals from the masses, you converse to other creators from an entirely different place of the world.
He knows your two lives. And he found it endearing, found it to be so different from all the other victims he had. When nobody knows what you say and what you are in real life, he does. When nobody on the internet knows what location you were at and what you were studying, he does. He found it so special. Of course, he came into the conclusion he was truly your biggest fan. Whether you put that stupid mask on and off, and you become insane from your two lives blurring into another, he’ll have front row seats to such an event. How sweet.
Ghost_F: Nice shirt cupcake.
“Oh Ghostie! You’re too sweet.” You responded in a flush state. To be honest, you always laughed at the nickname you gave to this fan. You gave this name after he became such a vital follower in the past four months. You can say he was rapidly coming close to being your most noticeable one, after he constantly catches up with your streams daily. He was also giving a hectic amount of money, where you had no clue coming from. Well, he didn’t want you to know that money came from the victims he murdered with cold blood. Maybe next time.
Ghost_F: Whatcha doin’?
“Mhm? I don’t know Ghostie. I believe I’m just gonna talk today. How bout it, chat?” That shirt on you was slowly hanging more down as you face more to the screen, he could see that bra he saw a week ago on a night. It looked good on you. Although, it would’ve been better if there weren't eighty people seeing this as well.
And to his annoyance, your followers agreed to the idea. You were just gonna sit there and stay pretty, which he didn’t mind, but he would rather hear your screams again as you play a game. But, you don’t need a horror game for today. He’ll find a way to help you yelp and cry later.
“Alright chat, let's check the timeline for today- Uh.” You turn your head.
There was a knock on the door. Package delivery? You didn’t order anything. You stand up out of your seat and open your door. There was nothing on the ground. Probably one of those annoying college dudes who prank dorms.
“Sorry, chat! There was a knock on the door. But it was nothing! God, my neighbors are assholes.”
You continued to your stream and shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. You casually just scrolled down onto your posts and saw what was happening to the latest news of your favorite games and movies. Small comments back and forth, making you chuckle, but nothing out of the ordinary. Until one viewer sent out a message in chat.
“Don’t you get scared at night? There's like a killer running around in the streets of your state.”
A fan warned. You heard about the murders happening around the state, especially in your town. But you didn’t seem to be phased by it, knowing how much serial maniacs plague this country with states such as Illinois and Ohio, you became desensitized. Though, you didn’t know so much about the recent papers about this prolific guy.
“Well, I don’t know much about him.” Your chat quickly was then filled with information and rumors. Some say he came from the deep levels of hell, sadistic and twisted. Others told how he looked, how he was covered with a ghastly mask and a dark cloak hiding his figure. More talked about the victims, how they were left in a bloody gruesome mess. Word around the street, he goes by the name Ghostface, because of his uncanny mask. All in all, it freaked you out a little. This man is out free swinging his knife and no police were able to catch him. You started getting paranoid.
Ghost_F: You guys are scaring her. Sweets, don’t listen to them.
“Yeah, chat! I don’t even go out at night, I stay home and talk to you guys. And the likely chance of me getting snatched, is pretty low” You giggle it off.
“Anyways, I’m probably not his type.” You were so wrong.
As you were facing the screen and fidgeting around your hair, you swore you something in the corner of your eye. It stopped you in your tracks. You froze in front of the camera. All of your followers were concerned, asking if you were okay.
“Ah, it’s nothing guys. I’m probably just being paranoid after you guys scare me like that!” You resumed your cool facade. You didn’t want them to know that your legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation for what's next. But you soon finally let yourself calm down, telling your brain it's probably some silly animal or neighbor.
You heard a thump. What was that?
Now you were fully freaked out. You jump out of your setup and slowly walk to the kitchen, to get a pan. You tiptoed to your door, and waited for the figure to come here. The thumping of your heartbeat was all you could hear in your ears, and your breath became anxious as you feared for an intruder coming in. No, no not like this.
In a countdown, you open the door once more. It was bare. Nothing, but you could see a hint of a footprint. Dirt? Blood? You couldn’t tell as it was mixed within the colors of the hallways carpet. But something was going on. And yet you close the entrance to your home, shrugging it off to keep up with your stream. You come back to where you reside, and update your followers. Telling them constantly there was nothing wrong. You brush it off, hoping for them to stop trying to interrogate what had happened. You didn’t wanna think about it too much.
Soon, minutes passed and you finally had your fans stop nagging and continued with the next topic. The nerves in your body were finally going down, and you could see yourself sinking into the chair with relaxation. Nevermind what had happened, it wasn’t your problem anyways.
You received a message.
Who was it? The notification went on your screen, and you check on your account on who it was. Hoping it isn’t a scammer or some creep.
It was revealed to be your follower, Ghostie. Hello, it said.
You message him, asking what’s up. No response. You waited for some sort of confirmation or reply after he said a simple hello. Ominous and a little worrying. You sat there, furrowing your brows as you stood by. The stream was finally coming to a close, and there was still no updated news from the man. You sighed, you’re going to leave it be.
Ghost_F donated 2000 dollars.
“Holy shit! Ghostie, what the hell?” He was toying you at this point. This mysterious user was playing mind games with you, and you had no clue why. Just a pitiful gut in your feelings, waiting and responding with surprises. The night was getting even stranger.
Everybody in the chat was shocked. Praising the guy for the huge donation and telling you deserved it. You felt lost of what to say, how do you even reply to such a generous amount of money? If he keeps it up, your entire debt would be gone by the end of the month. And you couldn’t help but feel shameful, thinking about how you didn’t really do that much. You sat around and played games, there was nothing honorable or worth spending a gold bar on.
“Jesus Christ! That’s the biggest donation I-I ever received.” You look at the camera with your face feeling a little flustered.
“How can I make it up to you?” This will bite you in the ass later.
The man privately messaged you. It says;
Go on a call with me, sweets. Stay on live.
Sketchy, but you didn’t wanna ruin this generous deal. You obliged, and you tell your following that you’ll go on a call with him, expressing your happiness and thanks. None of them opposed the idea, they probably wanted to interact with this unknown user who came into the community out of nowhere. Joking about how this bizarre online stranger was going to make you end up like those victims. And you were curious too, who was this guy? Who was Ghost?
His profile was just a default one, no bio, no additional excerpts, just a username. Hesitating at first, the unknown user startled you, it made you draw back and doubt. But you ignored your gut screaming at you to stop. You wanted to make your number one supporter happy, nothing bad right?
You started the phone call. Sitting there, anticipating for him to join.
“Hello?”
“Hey doll.” Wow. His voice was smooth and raspy. You blushed at the sound of his words, it was all rugged and yet deep. It was attractive, especially with that name he called you, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising on your cheeks. And chat wasn’t helping either, spamming in with comments of how nice he sounded, teasing with your sudden reaction, you could feel embarrassment furrowing into your body.
“Um- well I want to say a huge thanks to you man. Thanks Ghostie!”
He chuckled. Don’t do that!
“No problem sweet’s. You can make it up to me.” His comment piqued your interest. What can you do in return for his huge donation? Play a game? Do a silly prank? Or wear a costume? You didn’t know, but as much as bad as it sounded, it made you curious. The deal was so lucrative. It weighed like a mouse leading to a trap, and you were still wanting to know more. About him. About this mysterious man. About this fan that you couldn’t help but have your eyes on. You needed to know more.
“Pfft- Do I have to wear a cute dress or something?” You tease.
“Oh no doll, I wish though,” Huh? “Just a question would do.”
A question? This guy was really strange. Out of all the things he could’ve told you to do, he wanted to just ask you a question. Hell, you would’ve actually worn something for him if you really had to. He disregarded that option though. Something more he had in mind it seems.
“What’s your favourite horror movie?”
Strange, but nonetheless intriguing. You look back into your memory, thinking of the multiple movies you have watched. You always loved the horror genre, so it would be harder to pick out which ones you loved the most. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Texas Chain Massacre, the list goes on, and you didn’t want to pick such a basic answer. Thinking back to your recent watches, you reminded yourself that you watched Halloween. And you enjoyed that movie, so you’ll use that as an answer.
“Mhm, Halloween. The guy with a white mask and blue outfit.”
“Good pick, cupcake. Why though?”
“Well it was a really good movie, it had a lot of scares and had me tense for a little bit and- chat don’t say that!” Oh god. Chat was telling your real honest opinion of the movie, and said you were lying. Laughing and spreading emotes, and told Ghostie that you liked the movie because of the killer. In a drunken state of mind in one of your past streams, you mentioned that you had the hots for Myers. It haunted you ever since, and you forgot that people remember that little fact of yours. You were punching yourself in the inside, dying from all the humiliation.
“You have a crush on Myers?” He asked, chuckling on the side. He was happy knowing he was your type.
“Yeah. God that’s so bad. I-I don’t know how to explain it, I mean he’s a killer!” You giggled in response. Admitting to how hilarious and humbling it is. All the while, the other side of the phone is smiling underneath the mask. Smirking with your cute answer, he can’t help but to awe at your little face cringing from chat nagging on to you. He couldn’t wait for you to realize that he was one too. A dirty, murderous, criminal, who has eyes on you. He couldn’t wait for you to look at him and see your adorable face.
“It’s not that bad, sweets. People love bad boys.” You could hear his grin even if you didn’t see his face.
“Ok, ok, just ask me a different question!”
“Alright, alright. Hm. You got a guy?” Oh christ! You stood aghast, a little shocked from the boldness. In front of viewers too, he didn’t care that you had fanboys or loyal people loving you. Yet, you played along, wanting to tease around as if you were interacting with a beast. You were too curious to give up.
“No, I’m too busy with streaming and school. Are you hitting on me or something?” His laughter ensued, it sounded mischievous.
“I don’t know, am I? Tell me doll, do you think I am?” He was playing with you. Taunting you. You didn’t know how to respond, it made you stutter with your words. You hated it so much. But, god, was it attractive.
“I mean- I don’t know! I think you are!” His laugh became even more boisterous. You were just so fun to tease. He never had a victim like this in a while. Never had a girl like you being so eager and yet so hesitant. It amuses him, your defiance brings him entertainment like never before.
“Oh cupcake! You’re making me laugh.” You giggle back to him. “I just have one more question.”
“Ok, ok. What Ghostie?”
“Where do you live?”
What?
You froze. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating what he just said, but the silence told you otherwise. He means it. Chat became quiet. They were just sending messages with emojis seconds ago, and now becoming fearful as you were. Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your throat perk up.
“I can’t, can’t say that.” Your eyes well up, what do you do?
His breath was becoming noticeable. And his voice changed into a more sinister tone.
“That’s okay. I already know anyway.”
He immediately left. And you look to chat. They were just as puzzled and terrified as you were. Shaken to your core, you end the stream. What just happened? It was supposed to be a joke, but now it ended up as something much more threatening and dark. Due to this, you jumped out of your seat, and ran to the door for the third time.
Checking the peephole, hoping to not see a single being outside your unit. Your hands were shaking. Nervous and petrified, you get away from the entrance again. Your brain was playing tricks with you, or there really was someone else playing with you.
Though, you could hear notifications going off in the background. Your fans were concerned for you. Asking if you were okay, if you were safe, and all you could respond with was a yes. It was a troll you assume. A terrible, scary one to be exact. Until a message popped up onto the top of your screen.
Ghost_F: See you soon.
Alarmed, you press onto the profile. It was deleted. Content unavailable. You were fucking freaked out. You called your friends, hoping to be comforted and gain help. But no response avails.
You sat there on your chair instead. Heart beating to the extreme lengths to the point where you could hear it ringing in your ears. Staring at the screen, looking at the message, trying to see if you can decipher its cryptic tone. Hoping to think positively, you put it aside and think it’s a joke. All streamers go through it, having a creepy encounter with viewers, and this is the same thing. Nothing dangerous is going to happen, it’s just some weirdo freaking you out. Right? Yeah it is. It’s just an offhand interaction.
Sighing, you closed the computer and went to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up and pondering to yourself, if that was really true. And coming back to your bed, relaxing as you scroll on your phone to remind people that it’s just a troll. Mentioning you thousand of times with concern, and telling you it was a real threat. Although, you ignored it. Was it actually a threat? Probably not, because it’s been hours since the incident, and you were laying down on the bed. Nothing was going to happen.
You rest your eyes, and think ahead of the stupid troll. The creep with a sultry voice. You didn’t wanna mind it. It was just a fake threat after all.
You woke up. You heard a thump within the walls. Probably the neighbor's cat is acting up again. With your foggy brain and eyelids, you travel to your hallway and press the light switch to check what was there. You couldn’t tell if there was something black in your eyes, but you presumed it was nothing. You finally ended up in the kitchen from your hazed walk, and glanced at what was ahead of you.
The kitchen was empty. No creepy dude, it was fake!
You walked and got a glass in your cupboards. Your shorts were slowly sliding up as you tried to stretch to get a cup in the back of your cutlery. Feeling your shirt also slowly lifting up as you grabbed the object. Your feet finally face the ground when you are done getting the glass, and you turn your back around. Incline to having it be filled with water.
“Boo.”
The glass dropped. Forget water. You shrieked in horror. It was a man covered in a mask, cloaked with a black hood. The mask was detailed with a look of horror, eyes piercing hollow black, and wrinkles to enhance the uncanniness.
“You’re even cuter in real life.” No. No. No.
It was the killer your chat was talking about. It was the mysterious man who sent you the donation. And it was the user who threatened you on call. It all added up. You could feel you chastise your brain for being so foolish, for being so damn stupid. For being so curious.
“I-Is that you?” Your voice shakes in fear. He responds by caressing your face, and pining you closer to the counter beneath the cupboards you were just rummaging into. You feel your back slowly leaning back into the furniture, as he goes closer to you.
“Uh huh, it’s me baby.” His pet names made your stomach churn.
“Are you happy to see me, hm? I think you should be. I mean, I saw you blushing just by the sound of my voice, sweets.” He cackles at the end of his sentence. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, pleading for his mercy. It was better than he imagined.
“You’re- you’re the killer? You’re, you’re-“
“Ghostface. That’s right baby. Awh, don’t tell me you’re terrified? Earlier, you said you had a little crush on Michael. I’m exactly your type. Maybe a little more talkative, but you get the idea sweetheart!”
He was snarky, condescending and overall, fucking with you. You didn’t know what else to muster but a little placid gasp as he leaned into you. He was built entirely different from yours, toppling your body. His hold backed you into a corner, defenseless and armless. It was a recipe for the end of your life.
“Look at you. Trying so hard to look away from me-“ His sharp blade went to your throat. Forcing you to stare at his blank dark eyes. You still resisted. “Don’t be such a bitch. I gave a generous donation, didn't I? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy killing all of the guys crushing on you and stealing their money.”
“The fuck! You freak-“
“Freak? Rich coming from you. Babe, I’ve seen your search results.” He chuckled harshly. Oh god.
“It’s filled with some of the sickest shit. You love a killer. You know it’s so, so, so bad to like a man like me?”
“And your kinks. Oh sweet girl, you’re just asking to be gutted. And not in a bloody way either.” Even if he was covered behind a whole costume, you can practically hear his maniac smile. You can hear the tone of voice being clouded with figments of lust, and you hated it. But you proved his point, you could feel yourself squeezing your thighs, for some sort of stimulation, friction or movement.
“Mhm, I know what you’re doing sweetie. So needy.” His words were going to kill you before he ever could. It made your heart thump and filled your belly with butterflies. The attention was getting to you. You had to start thinking fast, to defend yourself in some sort of way. But his body and twisted words held you back from doing so. Although, that unwashed pan in the sink may be the trick. With no thought, you swiftly grabbed the cooking instrument, and swung into his head.
“FUCK! You goddamn whore, you’re going to fucking get it!”
You ran. Ran as fast as you could like those final girls in the movies you watch. Ran towards your bedroom, hoping to escape by jumping out of a window. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but breaking your leg out of survival, seems to be so much better than being a news headline. As you hastily open the glass window, sliding it in a painful slow motion, you put your whole body to ensure you flee. Outside was waiting for you, and you could see yourself escape from the monster. Just as you were so close to getting out of the building, you felt the hem of your shirt being tugged.
You tumbled down, hitting the floor. He grabbed you away from freedom.
“That was close. Ha, cupcake, you gotta be the feistiest one yet,”
“Makes you all the more of a treat to me.”
He puts his boot onto your back, stepping on your laying body. He tied you up with scattered ropes and brandished you like a present. You could feel your lungs giving up as he put more pressure into your figure, and your eyes started to tear up out of pain. Whines could be heard out of your mouth and you forced curses to be thrown towards your intruder.
“I warned you, didn’t I bitch?” He took a fist full of your hair, making you have to kneel and look at him. Putting you in a position that was very revealing. Right in front of his crotch. It was embarrassing, and yet your body was heating up.
“Just get on with it. Kill me.” Your comment was then returned with laughter. As if you were the one that’s insane.
“No, no, no way sweets. I have so much more to do with you, y’know?” He lowered his body, titling his head as he was now in your eye range. With his movement mocking you, as if you were a little puppy. “I’m doing a favor for you, baby.” His hands traced onto your legs, dangerously reaching down into inner thighs.
“You wanted a sick man to fuck you, right? I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream, making up for all the times that I saw you touching yourself, thinking about a slasher like me fucking you. I’m going to make you cry, making up for all those men who didn’t pound you right.” His gloved hands were now placed upon your pussy. Rubbing you up and down on your clothed slit, eliciting sweet sounds from you. You cried out to him, and he responded by making his fingers go faster.
“I’m going to make you mine. The only fucking thing you’ll think about is me, a murderer.” His touch was fucking you stupid, drool slowly dripped out of your mouth. He took notice of that and giggles ensued from his mouth. You were being so obedient, in such little time.
“Good girl. Look at you! I’m just rubbing your cunt, and you’re whimpering like a bitch. Fuck, baby.” There he finally stopped teasing you, and swiftly plunged his fingers within your shorts. A yelp escaped out of your throat, and he laughed even more. Panting, your hand grabbed his wrist, hoping for him to stop going so rough. It was immediately shut down, by his arm pinning your palms down. Showing how much more power he had over you. Manhandling you like a little toy.
“Ha- Ghos- Ghost-“
“You can’t even form a sentence. Fucking slut.” In a second, he stopped moving. He took his fingers out of your insides and you whined loudly. No no no! You were so close!
“You don’t deserve to cum. Not fucking yet. You will when you’re done your part, sweets.” He stood up, and towered over you. His hands were now fidgeting with the zipper of his pants, rushing for his erection to breathe. His ache lasted for hours, even before he came to visit you. When he was calling with you, he was so fucking close to just whipping his cock out and fisting it up and down with the sound of your voice. His obsession with you was that bad. It made him even more insane, seeing you afar and in hearing you, your flesh drove him crazy. With your ass around, he couldn’t focus on writing reports of his own victims, since his attention was all to you. He hated it. He hated how much he needed to fuck you, or kill you, it didn’t matter either way, he just had to have you. To make up for all the times he was too distracted to kill or report on news.
His dick finally came out of his slacks and hooded cloak. You were a little entranced. It’s been fucking ages since you took one in your mouth, probably because of him killing all of your suitors, and you felt unprepared.
“Suck. And don’t even fucking think of putting your teeth onto me.” You obliged. With your hands out of the questions, you made sure your mouth was able to take it. Slowly, you teased upon the tip and quickly made your way down his length. And with that, he responded with grunts.
“Fuckk, god. You’re so fucking good at this cupcake.” His hands fondled the top of your head. Resulting into him tugging the strands of your hair.
“Your mouth is so tight. Expected from a bitch like you. I can’t wait to fucking gut your pussy.” He rasped out, and soon his hands had moved to his rhythm onto your skull. Forcing you to bob up and down his dick. Your throat was now filled to the brim, and you started choking. He could hear you struggle, you mouthing that you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He kept on going, and your oxygen was dying out.
But he finally stopped when he realized you were going to actually pass out. Controlling himself from throatfucking you to unconsciousness, mainly because he wanted to hear more of your whimpers, but he considered you lucky. “Breathe babe, breathe.”
Taking a fresh gasp of air, away from the penetrating taste, he held your hair to the back. This probably was the only time he was ‘kind’ to you. And then you quickly went back.
Thrust after thrust, he was coming close. It was noticeable as his hands were becoming more frantic. Craving for a release. All the while you were squirming your legs for some sort of stimulation. The wet pooling onto your panties was driving you insane. You needed to be filled up, bad.
Finally he came into your mouth. The tangy substance filling up the space. Little drops were slowly falling down but he quickly wiped it from your face, looking proud of his work.
“Swallow it for me babe.”
You obeyed.
“Atta girl.”
You got up. But he quickly deflected your action.
“Ah ah. I’m not done yet.”
You looked at him with a furrow. As horny as you were, you still hoped this would be done shortly. But he still continues. Fuck.
“What- I thought-“
“Mr. Ghostface, please don’t tell me you’re gonna fuck me!” He mocked. “C’mon, I like my toys stupid, but you can’t be that fucking dumb babe.”
He pushed you into the bed. You lay upon your sheets catching your breath, and your cute top had a little peak of your breasts. Your face was filled with slob, and your shorts were absolutely drenched. A beautiful sight indeed.
“Wait, before I ruin you, let me just-“
He whipped out a camera from his back pocket.
Click!
“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He constantly rubbed on your thigh as he did a whole photoshoot of your body. Your back arches little by little as he continues to stimulate your skin. And his hand slowly takes something out of the backsides of his pants. A knife. You yelped out of surprise.
“Oh baby, don’t worry. I’m just going to remove your clothes. I’m not going to hurt you,” He snickered. Putting the blade upon the fabrics and ripping it apart to give a pathway. But he intentionally cuts a little part of your skin as he forcefully parts your pants. Allowing him to brand you. “Yet.”
Finally, you were bare. Fully naked and vulnerable in front of this clothed intruder.
“You look even better up close, y’know? Fuck. I just knew you were perfect for me.” His dick was caressing your folds, making you scrunch your eyes in response to control your whimpers. You were so sensitive, that little tears started forming from your eyes. “Maybe I should just fucking take you away. Maybe I should just keep you in some basement, naked and shivering, huh? But knowing from you, you’d probably fucking like it.”
“You’re a whore, you know that?” All you could respond was cute little grunts to his stimulation and comments, “Mhm, but you're my whore.”
He inserts it with no warning. You gasp out of shock. His dick was really caressing the corners of your insides. And you could feel contraction from the penetration. It felt like it couldn’t fit at all.
“Sh-shit! So god damn tight! God-“ Ghostface was spasming from the way you tightened around him. Even with the slow pace, it felt agonizingly strained and painful. But you didn’t mind at all, because of how much it was stretching you so well. Filling up the need and wants in every right direction.
“So- so much!” You whined. You didn’t know if you were pleading him to take it slow, or go rapidly fast, but you definitely wanted him to keep going. To keep pushing you to the brim until you can’t think anymore, fucked with no words left to speak. To keep rubbing up and down till you start screaming, babbling with no thoughts to fill in your head. You needed this so bad.
“I know, I know- fuck, christ doll.” The masked man shuddered upon his words. He was as smitten as you were. The way your hole pulsed and tightened as he went further. The way your face is all flushed and cute as he rammed into you. The way your breasts move up and down as he makes you spasm and moan. Your cute little eyes, struggling to keep wide open from the hazy sex. He really couldn’t get enough of you. He really wanted to you fuck you up more and more.
“Ha- I knew you would fucking like this. You love being a sick freak taking in a murderer's cock. You love it, don’t you, don’t you baby?” His hands were caressing your skin as you whimpered. The latex stimulating you as your mind runs wild on the touches and senses you were feeling. At this rate, you were going to finish, and it couldn’t help when you were contracting more and more.
“Yeah that’s right. I could feel your fucking cunt clenching me, you gonna cum? Hm?”
You gave no response, too dazed to comprehend what he said. He slapped your face for you to snap out of your drunken phase.
“I said, whore. Are you gonna cum around my cock?”
“Y-yes!” He started going faster. Abusing your cunt even more and more. You started gasping for air with the amount of assault he was doing to you. Bringing you to the edge. “Mr. Ghostface I-Im going to-“
“Aww, it’s so much isn’t it? Well too fucking bad. You can only cum when I say so, so fucking take it. Or i’ll fucking slice your throat into two.” He maliciously spat.
“Or are you that desperate that you would rather have me fucking gut you, just so you can cum? I wouldn’t even be surprised.” Laughing ensued after he remarked how pathetic and dumb you look. You were all mindless, continuously just taking in and out like a toy. And the worst part, you enjoyed it, loved it and wanted more and more.
“I’ll be nice this time. Beg for me.”
“Huh?” You muttered, confused and not knowing what he just ordered.
“I said beg. Are you fucking stupid? Beg. Beg for you to fucking cum. I know how much you fucking need it.”
You swallowed your pride. It’s too late to do anything more to save your face. Look at the state you were in. Sweat, back arching and drool slowly forming from your mouth. Nothing is reputable with this. You looked like a whore. And he knew damn well he made you into one.
“Ple-please.?”
“Is that all you got? Beg. Beg fucking harder!” He slapped your cunt in order to elicit a reaction out of you.
“I- fuck- fuck! Please, pleasee! Please let me cum! Please, Mr. Ghostface! Please, I need it! I fucking need it! I need it so bad! I need you to fucking fill me! Just- let me- me cum!” You were babbling at this point. Saying all of this under his will.
“I need it so bad! I need it. I need you! I need you!” You reached for his mask. Showing how terribly desperate you wanted for some kind of release.
“Atta fucking girl.” He put his mask to the side. “Come here.”
He penetrated with his tongue inside your mouth. You whisper and moan, faltering around his body. Your arms were frenzied all over his shoulders. You were needy. And most of all, so fucking horny.
“You wanna cum? Yeah?”
“Uh huh!”
“Go ahead, sweets. Cum around my cock. I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” There it went, his pace going harder and harder. Louder and more frantic.
“Cum for me. Cum for me, pretty. Cum for your fucking killer.”
And you did. With a loud whine you came around everywhere. A load filling you up as you spasm with his dick still in you. Your body automatically faltered on the bed, tired and so fucking full. He pulled out, having your cunt leak out all the fluids. You were absolutely fucking gutted.
Click!
You heard a camera snap. You would’ve protested but your legs would have probably given up if you tried.
“I’m keeping that one baby. Displaying it on the top of my fridge.”
“Here.” As his last ‘gift’ to you, he marked your neck. A purple bruise, prominent and easily noticeable.
“Stream tomorrow, cupcake. And show my fucking mark on you proudly.”
He wanted to make sure he was definitely your favorite follower. Wanted to show everyone one of your fans that you’re his now. And it was completely obvious with how much he had made you into his.
Next time, he’ll do it live. And maybe, he’ll bring some other fans he knows of.
Maybe that son of a bitch, Michael would join in.
“I’m your biggest fan, sweets. Don’t forget that.” He said, leaving you in your bed, while he left your house.
And he believed that you already knew.
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Text
╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗
clone - a - willy
╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝
ʚ Gojo Satoru x Chubby Fem Reader ɞ
❥ Summary: You've been paired up with Gojo Satoru for a class and you've developed a crush on him. After his fraternity holds a "Clone-a-Willy" fundraiser, and your friend buys you a dildo of his dick, your feelings grow stronger. You just hope he never finds out...
❥ Word Count: 4.2k
❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, female masturbation, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex (penis in vagina), petnames (princess, pretty), biting
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Smart. Handsome. Rich. Gojo Satoru was all these things, and now he was your lab partner.
You were shocked when you were given the assigned seat next to him and told that you would be partners for the semester. He was so polite too, nothing like the usual frat boys you met in your other classes.
“I’m Gojo Satoru! Nice to meet you! Let’s work hard this semester!”
God, his cheerfulness was intoxicating. No wonder you developed a crush on him during your first meeting.
It was just a little crush, nothing to sneeze over, but your roommate noticed how your disposition changed in just a couple weeks. She teased you endlessly, asking for details about the infamous Gojo Satoru of Alpha Phi. She’d heard rumors, just like you, of how he was a playboy and a huge flirt, but you hadn’t experienced that in class yet, much to your roommate’s disappointment.
“Damn, I was really hoping he was an ass like everyone said, you know, just so you could say the rumors are true about frat boys.”
You shrugged it off, just grateful that Gojo was kind to you and helpful during your labs together.
But things changed when Alpha Phi held a fundraiser.
You didn’t hear much about it until you got back to your dorm after the day’s classes and had to listen to your roommate gush about the event.
“You would not believe what they did this year!” You sighed, taking off your shoes by the door.
“What did they do?”
Your roommate didn’t reply. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out… a dildo?
“What—”
“They did a Clone-A-Willy fundraiser!”
You stared, shocked at the tan silicone toy, blinking rapidly.
“They… sold dildos?”
“That are copies of their own dicks!”
You kept staring, shocked, unsure of what to say.
“This is Geto Suguru’s dick. Isn’t it big? God, I can’t wait to use it.”
“I—”
“But don’t worry!” she interrupted, going back into her bag and pulling out yet another large dildo. “I got one for you too! Guess whose it is.”
Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.
“No—”
“Yes! It’s the Gojo Satoru’s dick in dildo form! Surprise! Happy birthday, happy New Year’s, happy whatever holiday you wanna celebrate!”
Your hand went to your mouth, trying to cover your expression.
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I totally did. Gojo was out there selling em too, flirting with all the girls who bought his toy. And there were a lot of them too, I actually got one of the last ones just for you!”
“Ashley… This is insane. I can’t accept this.”
“What? Why not? I got it just for you. You don’t have to worry about the cost, I’m not gonna make you pay me back—”
“No! No, I… Ashley, he’s my lab partner. This is so inappropriate.” She rolled her eyes.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s nothing to worry about. You have a crush on him, we both know that, but unless you’re gonna start coming out of your shell and actively flirt with him, you’re never gonna get that dick. This will give you the chance to experience his dick without committing to the guy.” You rubbed your hand over your face.
“Ashley… This is so wrong…”
“Oh, Y/N, please calm down. Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just some harmless fun. If Gojo didn’t want people to use these dildos, he wouldn’t have made them in the first place. He’s okay with it.”
“But—”
“Look,” she started, opening your nightstand drawer, “you don’t have to use it if it really makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t take it back so you might as well keep it just in case.”
You couldn’t fight her on this, not when she gave those pathetic puppy dog eyes, pleading for forgiveness.
“Alright, fine. But I’m not going to use it!”
That’s what you told her. That’s what you told yourself. But you found yourself drawn to the girthy toy in your nightstand. The next time you had the dorm to yourself, you took it out and examined it in detail. It was thick, your hand barely able to wrap around it, and it was long too, long enough to reach deep inside you, hit all those spots that your stubby fingers would never be able to reach…
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you used the toy that same day, fucking yourself vigorously with it, making yourself whine. It felt so fucking good, filling you up so nicely, making you cum over and over again.
You cleaned and hid the toy before your roommate came back, and you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again.
You were very good at lying to yourself. Every chance you got alone, you were grabbing that toy, fucking yourself nice and deep in between your classes. You’d started imagining Gojo there with you, fucking you good, praising you all the while for taking his fat cock. You felt guilty for it, but you couldn’t help but moan his name quietly, wishing he was there to treat you right. Would he be slow and sweet? Or hard and fast? Would he call you a good girl or his precious little slut? Would he make you cream or squirt? Your thoughts swirled endlessly as you came on the toy once again, pulling it out and panting hard.
This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t be developing feelings for your lab partner like this. He even began to notice a change in you.
“Is something wrong?” he asked one day in the library while you were working on your project together. You cleared your throat, shying away when he leaned in closer towards you. God, his cologne smelled so good—
“I’m fine,” you lied, swallowing hard. You couldn’t look at him after what you had done the day before, after you had ridden his dildo for close to half an hour, cumming almost a dozen times. You couldn’t stop wondering if he would ever try to make you feel that good.
“You sure? You’ve been acting off the last few classes, and you’re not talking as much as usual.” He leaned forward into your line of sight, smiling softly, speaking quietly. “Look, if something’s wrong, we can reschedule. Maybe we could go someplace less stressful and not as packed? Maybe the lobby of the physics building? Or we can go to your dorm if that makes you comfortable?”
Here he was, being so sweet and considerate, and all the while you were masturbating to the thought of him using a dildo that was a literal copy of his dick. You felt so ashamed, and yet the thought alone was currently turning you on, making your legs clench.
“It’s okay. I can keep working.” He gave an unsure frown but nodded.
“Alright, if you say so, but I’m serious about working somewhere quieter next time. Maybe it’d be easier to finish this at your dorm. That way you’re comfortable and not as stressed about finishing this.” You smiled at him genuinely.
“Thank you, Gojo. We can go to my place tomorrow. My roommate has classes till five, so maybe we could meet right after lunch? That should give us enough time to finish what we don’t get done today.” Gojo smiled back at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.
“Sounds good. We could meet up for lunch if you want. I have a class at ten but then I’m free the rest of the day.”
You felt your heart pound, and you nodded a bit too enthusiastically.
“Yeah, that sounds great.”
So, that’s what you did. You met at your chemistry building before walking to an on-campus cafe. You had a quick lunch, mostly talking about your project and your respective classes before you made your way to your dorm.
“Here it is,” you said after you unlocked the door, opening it wide and walking inside. You both discarded your shoes by the door before locking it and heading farther into your room.
“Nice place,” Gojo stated, looking around at the posters you had on the wall. “You like this band too?”
“Oh, them? Yeah, I’ve been a fan for a few years.”
“Really? That’s crazy. I haven’t met anyone on campus yet who likes em. What a coincidence,” he said with a toothy grin. You felt your heart flutter, but you shook your head and took out your laptop, plugging it in and sitting at your desk.
“Yeah, what a coincidence…”
The two of you started working quickly, you at your desk, Gojo on your bed with his own laptop. You were pretty quiet, making the occasional comment about your work before going back to silence. It was about an hour later when Gojo pushed his laptop to the side, lying back and stretching.
“Man, I’m beat! Thank God this project is pretty much done. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
You hummed, glancing over at him, just to find him on his phone.
“Damn, I’m at 20%. Do you have a charger I could borrow?”
“Uh, yeah. Check the drawer on my nightstand.”
You didn’t realize what you said until the nightstand drawer opened.
“W-Wait—”
It was too late. Gojo had already pulled out the toy and proceeded to stare at it. You could feel your face burn as you stood up.
“I-It’s not what you think! My roommate got it for me as a joke!” He kept staring as he sat up, making you panic. “I-I haven’t even used it! It’s just been sitting in there collecting dust, ha ha!” Gojo hummed, scraping his nail along the toy.
“Something weird is dried on it…”
Fuck, you must not have cleaned it well. You rushed to his side, pulling the dildo away from him and hiding it behind your back.
“Look, I know this is weird, and I’m super sorry, but I promise it’s just a joke! Nothing’s happened, we can just go back to studying and—”
“Y/N,” he said low, standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “Be honest with me. Have you used that toy before?”
You felt like you were backed into a corner. Your stomach was flipping like crazy, making you sweat. You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t do anything but look down at the floor.
“Have you… thought about me while you did it?”
You still couldn’t answer, but you felt yourself shrink in on yourself. You could see his fists clench and unclench in your line of sight. Fuck, he was mad, he must’ve been. Why else would he be so quiet? Maybe he was disgusted with you. Maybe he would yell at you and stomp out. Shit, what if he told your secret to all his friends? What if you became the laughing stock of your university?
“Y/N. Look at me.”
You hesitantly looked up, meeting his icy blue gaze. You were about to apologize, beg him not to say anything to anyone, promise to do all the work the rest of the semester if he would just keep quiet. But you didn’t have the chance to.
Before you could blink, Gojo leaned forward and kissed you.
Your eyes widened, hands dropping the dildo behind you as his lips moved against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his chest—you could feel his muscles through his shirt—nails digging into the fabric. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, hips pressed together. You pulled away when he licked at your lip, staring up at him, cheeks burning.
“I… I don’t understand,” you whispered, eyes searching his face. He was blushing, glowing when he smiled down at you.
“I got a confession to make, Y/N.” His arms circled your waist, keeping you flush to him. “I’ve kinda been crushing on you all semester.”
Your eyes widened, jaw going slack.
“You… what?”
“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “You’re just so sweet and nice and smart and pretty! I’m sorry for throwing this on you, really I am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
You shook your head, taking a step back.
“This isn’t funny, Gojo. Don’t play with my feelings.”
“I’m not, I swear! Here, look at me,” he said, taking your hands and looking deep into your eyes. “I really like you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t say it till now, but I’m telling the truth.”
“You… you mean it? You’re not joking around?”
“No, Y/N. I would never joke about this. I swear to God, I like you so much that it’s keeping me up at night.”
You couldn’t believe it. The Gojo Satoru was confessing to you. Not even in your best dreams did you think this would be happening to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you closer, leaning towards you. “Is it okay if I prove how much I like you?”
“P-Prove?” you stuttered, picking up on his flirting. He nodded, pulling you to his chest again, arms flying around your waist.
“Wanna show you how much I like you.”
You hesitated, feeling your skin burn, your cunt clenching in anticipation.
“O-Okay… you can sh-show me.”
“Yeah? Pretty girl wants me to show her how crazy she makes me?” You stifled a whine, nodding quickly, only making his smirk grow. “Good. How about you get on the bed for me?”
You found yourself complying with his demands, inching towards the bed and sitting on top, waiting for his next move. He stood between your legs, staring down at you for a good long while before his hands went down to your hips.
“Can I take these off?”
You nodded, letting him unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so he could slide them off. Your jeans and panties were discarded onto the floor, and Gojo fell to his knees.
“Your thighs are so warm and soft,” he muttered, kneading your legs, making you leak. “I love seeing how they squish when you sit down. I’ve thought about laying my head on them way too much.”
With that, he rest his forehead against your thighs, nuzzling into you, humming to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, making you inhale sharply, squeezing your legs shut tighter. He clicked his tongue, weaving his hand between your legs.
“Don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna show you how I feel.”
He pulled apart your thighs, spreading them wide, revealing your chubby pussy to him. He sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your upper pussy, nosing his way down between your legs. He kissed your pudgy pussy lips, flicking his tongue against them, making you tremble. His slender hands trailed up your thighs, peeling apart your pussy lips, revealing yourself to him.
“Oh God… your pussy… it’s so pretty,” he spoke in disbelief, staring at you. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, squirming under his gaze.
“Please… don’t—hah!”
His tongue darted out, flicking your clit with the tip. His blue eyes stared up at you, watching your expression contort as his tongue flattened against your clit, licking it fully. He moved it up and down languidly, blinking slowly as he gained a rhythm. After a minute, he began drawing patterns—circles and figure eights. At one point you wondered if he was spelling his name because you could’ve sworn he was writing in cursive with his tongue.
You soon became a moaning mess, resting back on your elbows, hips twitching into his mouth. You gasped when you felt his finger prod at your entrance, circling it, dipping in just the tip before pushing in down to the knuckle.
“God, you’re so tight, too. How in the world did you fit my dildo inside? Fuck, just thinking about you masturbating with it turns me on like crazy.”
“I-I’m sorry f-for using the t-toy!” you whined, voice pitching when he curled his finger, hitting your g-spot.
“Don’t apologize, princess. I think it’s so fucking hot. I was hoping you would show up that day to get one, but I must’ve missed you.”
“It-It was from my f-friend.”
“Ahh, nice friend, getting you such a nice toy to play with. Shit, if I had known you were using my dildo, I would’ve confessed a lot fucking sooner. So much time wasted.”
He added a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out at a steady pace. You could hear how wet you were, your cunt clenching around his fingers as he thrust them into you. You fell back on the bed, back arching as you felt pressure build inside you.
“Oh my God… you’re pulsing around me. You gonna cum? Ya gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, I want you to, please, I want it so bad.”
His mouth went back to your clit, forming an ‘O’ shape around it, sucking harshly. The action made you squeal, hands finding his hair, tugging at the white strands. You only made him moan against you, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. His combined efforts were putting you through a whirlwind of sensations, hurtling you towards your peak.
“G-Gojo, please, I-I-I—”
“Go on, pretty. Let go for me. Wanna see you cum on my fingers.”
That was it. That was enough to send you over the edge. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open as you came. You gushed around his fingers, back hurting from how hard it was arching off the bed, thighs clenching next to his cheeks. The moment passed, and you could feel yourself coming down from your high.
But he didn’t stop.
You cried out, begging him to let up, to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. He kept sucking at your clit, fingers pumping quickly, making you climb towards another climax far too quickly.
“Gojo, Gojo! Please, stop, I-I can’t! Please, I—ah!”
It was too late. You were cumming again, trembling under his hold. His mouth and fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak, guiding you back to Earth. He released your clit, pulling away, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.
“Holy shit. That was good. Do you always cum like that or was it because of me? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t know if my ego can take it.”
You giggled, breathless, eyes traveling from the ceiling to between your legs where Gojo was sucking your slick off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.
“God, and you taste good too. Not fair!”
You both laughed. You sat up, reaching for him. He got up, complaining for a moment about his knees hurting before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his tongue prodding into your mouth. You opened up for him, deepening the kiss, moaning into him. You felt good, really good, and you wanted to keep things going.
You pulled away, staring up at him lustfully.
“Do you wanna keep going?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He blushed, huffing out a laugh.
“God, I do, I really fucking do, but…” He sighed, hanging his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”
“That’s okay,” you replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”
His head whipped up, almost busting your lip in the process.
“Really?! And you’re okay with having sex without a condom?” You nodded, making him smile. “Jeez, and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect.”
He stood up, pulling his shirt off, revealing his chiseled physique. He undid his belt, eyeing you the whole time he pulled down his zipper and pushed his pants down. It was all very sexy until he tried to kick off his pants, tripping over them and stumbling to the side, catching himself on your nightstand. You covered your mouth, stifling your laughter. He chuckled as well, brushing himself off even though he was blushing hard.
Gojo joined you on the bed, helping you out of your shirt and bra, letting you lie down and relax against your pillow. He massaged your thighs as he spread them open.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” You nodded, humming in confirmation. He nodded back at you, holding the base of his cock and directing it towards your cunt. “Okay… I’m gonna put it in.”
He pushed the head of his cock into you, hissing quietly at the tight fit. He stopped once the head was in, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. When you nodded at him, he pushed in further, moving slow, steadily, purposefully. Once he bottomed out, he let out a shaky sigh, laughing lightly.
“You’re… you’re tighter than I thought,” he huffed, already out of breath as he met your gaze. “I-I’m gonna move now.”
He pulled back, leaving in just the tip before pushing back in slow, savoring every ribbed inch of your cunt. He pulled out again, pushing in faster, beginning a steady pace.
“Oh… Oh wow. You feel… so much better than I thought you would.”
“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, voice small and sweet.
“Mm-hm. Never thought I’d get to do this, ya know. I thought you’d reject me if I confessed to you.”
“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. He nodded, moving a little faster, making you moan. “I… I had a crush on you from the first moment we met…”
“You did?” You nodded, making him huff. “No way… no fucking way. You liked me all this time? You didn’t just wanna fuck me?”
“N-No… You’re so sweet and nice… I thought you were so cool, Gojo, too cool for me.”
“What? No way… If anything, you’re too cool for me.” He moved faster, making you bounce along the bed. “You’re so fucking smart. I don’t have a clue what’s happening in class half the time, but you do. And you’re so pretty too. You’re way out of my league.”
Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, moving from his hands down to his forearms, leaning closer towards you. You moved forward and kissed him gently, making him moan in your mouth, tongues dancing as he slowed his pace just a bit. He savored feeling your lips against his, petting your hair, marveling at its texture. He pulled away to stare down at you as he started moving faster again, pumping his cock in and out of you, making you gasp.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, glancing over your figure. “I love your body. I love your curves. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”
“G-Gojo—”
“Please, call me Satoru. Wanna hear you say my name.” You swallowed, cupping his cheeks.
“S-Satoru… It f-feels good!”
“Yeah? Feels good? What feels good, baby?”
“Your cock… It feels so good inside me…”
“Yeah? Better than that silly dildo, right? Do I fuck you better than that little toy?”
“Mm-hm! So much better!”
His eyes rolled back and he thrust faster, hands traveling over your form. He palmed at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple, making you whine. His mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, making you perk up in his mouth. His tongue rolled around your nipple, mouth slobbering on it. He moved his mouth to your other nipple next, his hands moving to your belly, squeezing and molding it.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispered in disbelief. “How are you so fucking soft?”
“I mean… I-I moisturize…”
“But still… I’ve never felt skin as soft as yours. I kind of envy you,” he said with a laugh, making you laugh as well. “God, and your giggle. It’s so fucking cute. I just wanna bite you.” You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently.
“You… you can bite me… if you want…” His eyes widened.
“Fuck, say less.”
He dipped down towards your neck, kissing and licking at it before digging his teeth into you, biting down. You moaned at the feeling, his cock pumping even faster now that he was latched onto your neck. He sucked hard, hands rubbing your plush tummy as he fucked you harder. He pulled back with a loud ‘pop’, admiring the mark he left behind.
“Fuck, I… shit, I think I’m gonna cum. Can I cum in you, pretty thing? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t fucking stand it.” You nodded quickly, moving your hand between your legs to rub your clit.
“Y-Yeah… you can cum in me.”
Satoru groaned, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, moving his fingers quickly to get you to the edge. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, hips bucking up to meet his. You rocked against each other, moaning each other’s names, begging and pleading for God knows what as you simultaneously reached your highs. His hips lost their rhythm, moving faster, more erratically. The unpredictable rhythm made you climax, nails digging into Satoru’s pale back as you came. He followed right after, groaning low as he released inside you. He almost collapsed on top of you as he came, bracing himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you. His hips twitched, the last bit of cum spilling from his cock and filling you up.
The two of you were panting, rubbing your noses against each other as you came down from your highs. He eventually pulled out, watching his cum leak from your abused cunt, smiling softly. He fell to your side, sighing, pulling you towards him and kissing your cheek.
“So,” he started, smiling at you, “guess you won’t be needing that dildo anymore, huh?”
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1K notes · View notes
authorhjk1 · 3 months
Text
The Roman Goddess (part II)
Sana X Male Reader
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The taxi ride to her hotel feels like it's taking hours. Her white top still shows hints of your last moment alone. Since then, the two of you met not a lot of people. Only a couple of oblivious visitors and the taxi driver.
The later was staring at her for a couple of moments as the two of you got in. It wasn't your place to say something, she is married after all. But you can't really blame him.
Even after you just had her kneeling half naked in front of you, you still glance at her every two seconds.
You still feel like you are dreaming. How you managed to pull it off still remains a mystery to you. Or maybe she was looking for someone anyway? And you were just the first guy to hit on her?
Maybe. And even if that's the case, you don't really care. As long as she is taking you to her hotel room, you don't care why she is doing this.
"What's your name by the way?"
The taxi driver's radio is too loud for him to understand what the two of you are saying. Italian words echo through the car.
The young woman raises an eyebrow.
"Now you are curious? After you came on me?"
You feel your cheeks heating up, but you see how the left corner of her mouth moves upwards a little.
"Y-You asked me to."
She tilts her head as if she is trying to recall the scene in the museum.
"You sound like I forced you to do that."
Somehow she did. Or at least her body. Who wouldn't want to cum on her chest? Especially if she says she wants it?
"So?"
You brake the silence after a couple of moments. Although it's anything but quiet in the car. As far as you can tell, the driver is listening to a soccer game.
"I'm not sure if I should tell you."
"I just came on your chest. Shouldn't you trust me by now?"
You see her smirking, intrigued by the way you used her words against her.
"I won't tell you my name. Just in case."
She finally turns her head towards you, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"Just call me Venus."
"Venus?"
You can't help but chuckle.
"Didn't we already establish that you are like Aphrodite?"
'Venus' shrugs her shoulders. An elegant gesture coming from her.
"You said that Venus was more important."
You nod quietly.
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You feel out of place. You've never been to such a hotel before. Everything looks expensive. The white marble floor, the cedar wooden reception desk, the golden elevator doors with pretty engravings.
The lobby just looks insane to you. But Venus just walks through the big hall, her head raised high, her confident stride makes her heels klick on the floor.
Trailing behind her, you see how well dressed everyone is. It's not like your outfit sucks, a simple white shirt and jeans, but the other guests are wearing suits and dresses.
"Mrs. Minatozaki."
The receptionist greets her, handing her the key for her room. Her name sounds Japanese.
"And this is a package that just arrived. It's for you."
"Thank you."
Venus, or Mrs. Minatozaki, takes the small box and walks towards the elevator. You follow her, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself.
As soon as she throws the package on the bed, she turns around. You tried to see what her room looked like, or rather suite, but her intense gaze makes you focus on her.
"Come here."
She whispers, slinging her arms around your neck. You lean down, meeting her halfway as the two of you start to indulge into each other's lips.
You realize that your hands once again are exploring her body. As if you can't get enough. Her curves feel so good underneath the fabric.
"Fuck, your lips taste so good,-"
You catch her pause.
"I need a name for you too."
Her lips leave yours, before they kiss your cheek, moving towards your neck.
"Any suggestions? It should fit mine."
It's hard to concentrate, when you have a woman like Venus kissing your neck. Impossible even. But you luckily know your way around Roman mythology.
"Mars."
You feel one of her hands slide down your back.
"Mars fits the theme."
"And who is that?"
You don't know if she is pretending or not, but you feel her hand reaching your crotch. Yours are on her waist. Still amazed by how small it is, you try your best to explain.
"The Roman god of war. And agriculture."
You feel her chuckle into your neck.
"That's an interesting combination."
"Well,.. "
You can't stop it. Your history nerd side comes back to life. Despite the fact that Venus is slowly letting her fingers glide over your jeans.
"That combination is a characteristic of early Rome. Military and farming both have their peak during the summer. It makes sense to me."
You feel her bite you skin slightly.
"Are you gonna keep talking? Or do you want to fuck?"
"T-The second one."
"Me too. Mars."
She whispers, before backing away.
It feels weird to be called by a name of a god.
"Give me just a minute."
Venus takes the package and disappears into the bathroom.
Standing alone, you are not quite sure what to do. Take your clothes off? Stand in place? Get on the bed?
Your eyes roam the big room as you realize how much this must cost. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand a night or something.
Even the bed looks like the best you've ever seen. It's almost three times as big as yours. Golden ornaments are decorating its wooden bed frame.
You decide to get rid off your clothes. A moment later you are lying on the soft mattress, only in your underwear. Then, the door opens. You feel your jaw dropping in amazement.
Venus leans against the white doorframe.
Her black lace bra shows her porcelain like skin underneath. Her tits look a little bigger than before. Her panties match her bra. Black lace. It shows of how small her waist is. Her toned stomach really makes her look like a goddess. The black straps that connect her stockings with her panties each have a golden ring in the middle. The heels she is wearing complete her all black outfit
"I see you like it?"
You look down at your crotch. That's a very clear yes.
Watching her walk over to you almost makes you drool. Her hips sway from left to right, her hair, now lose, follows the same rhythm.
"I don't even remember the last time my pussy was filled."
She crashes down on you, not giving you time to react, when she reaches the bed. Landing on top of you, you feel her center rub against yours. Her hands in your hair. Her lips on yours once again.
The two of you exchange a passionate kiss, her hands slowly going through your hair. Yours are traveling down her back, until they reach their destination. You squeeze her cheeks, making Venus moan into your mouth.
"Naughty boy."
She coos, before she slides down your body. Her tits graze your covered crotch in the process. Once her face is on the right hight, she pulls your boxers off.
"I've already missed this so much."
She sighs, before diving in. Without a word of warning, you feel how Venus swallows your cock. Her warm mouth makes you groan as you sink into the cushions.
Reaching down, you hold her hair back as her head bobs up and down. Her blowjob is messy. Her saliva is starting to get everywhere. Your cock, your balls, your thighs, the mattress.
The only thing you can do is watch. Her eyes lock onto yours, trying to stare into your soul.
"Fuck."
You groan, unable to withstand her attack.
"So delicious."
She murmurs as she let's her tongue dance along your shaft, before taking you back into her mouth.
You can feel how impatient she is. Her blowjob is gaining in pace, her hands moving along your thighs. She starts to fuck her face onto your cock.
With a load groan, you almost cum right there. She pulls away early enough. Your disappointment is quickly replaced by heart pounding excitement.
"Eat me, please."
She gets on her knees, pulling her panties to the side. The mouth watering view almost gives you goosebumps. Her folds are wet, her pussy cleanly shaven.
You pull her hips towards you, making Venus sit on your face. Her pussy tastes even better than it looks. You can't get enough after only one lick. Her hands are in your hair again, forcing you to bury yourself even deeper into her core.
"Yes, baby."
She sighs, her head rolling back. Your pace quickens as you insert a finger into her wet core, while you lick her clit. Her velvet walls clench around you, dying for any friction at all.
"More. More!"
Her moans become louder, her whines needier.
At one point, she starts to ride your face. Your finger is still inside of her, egging her on.
"So close. The museum made me so wet."
You can feel her orgasm slowly approaching. Her pussy clenches around your finger even harder.
"Fuck!"
She almost shouts as she cums on your face.
Her sweet nectar tastes like peaches as you are forced to drink it, her hands keeping you in place.
"That was so good."
She sighs, her body visibly relaxing on top of you.
"I don't even remember the last time..."
She trails off, glancing down at you.
"I need you inside of me, Mars. Fuck me hard."
You tighten the grip on her waist, suddenly sitting up. It makes her fall off you and she lands on her back. You are now kneeling in front of her wet core, your cock grazing her folds.
"Give it to me."
She watches with a satisfied look on her face as you start to penetrate her pussy. Her tightness makes it hard to fit all of your cock inside of her in one go. You have to slowly ease in and out a couple of times, until you finally bottom out.
"Fuck, you are big."
She sighs as she feels how you fill her. Her pussy hugs your cock as tight as it can.
Her hands grab the sheets as you start to fuck Venus. Her body rocks back and forth on the mattress. Your hands are placed on her hips as you enjoy her pussy. It almost feels like she is made for you.
"More!"
Her head sinks into the sheets as you start to fuck her harder. Her legs wrap around you, trapping you, not allowing you to go anywhere but deeper. Not that you mind. If you could only stay inside of her forever...
Your body moves on its own, driven by your carnal desires. Every thrust makes her breasts jiggle slightly, despite the fact that they are still secure inside her bra. Her eyes are staring up at you, tracing the drops of sweat that form on your forehead, before they fall onto your chest or her tummy.
"Gosh, your cock..."
You see how her eyes become smaller, until they finally close. Her mouth is slightly open, moan after moan escaping her pretty lips.
"How are you so tight?"
You can't help but wonder. How is she this perfect? That face of hers would already be enough for every man to fall for her. But her body turns you into a slave to your animalistic instincts. And her pussy.. You can't describe it with words.
It feels like you are in paradise. And at the same time, you feel something like guilt. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be fucking her. She is a married woman. And yet, that fact somehow turns you on even more.
Venus should be off limits to you. Because she is way out of your league. And because she is married. But here you are. Fucking her, while she whines and mewls, asking you to go faster.
For a moment, you wonder if she is alone in Rome. Or is her husband with her? You haven't thought about this possibility yet. That he and her might have spent the night right here. In this bed. In the bed you are fucking his wife on.
"Fuck!"
Her loud moan brings you back to reality.
"I need it rougher! More!"
It's starting to feel like she just can't get enough.
You start to slow down, wanting to try another position. Maybe you can fuck her even deeper that way.
"Get up and turn around."
Venus seems to like the idea. She gets on all fours her ass facing you.
"Put it back in."
She smiles as she looks over her shoulder.
You let your hands run along her beautifully shaped cheeks. You knead them a couple of times, before you aling yourself with her wet cavern once again.
"Fuck me hard."
It's a mixture of plea and command.
Venus moans when you thrust forward, impaling her with your cock.
"Oh god!"
You lean over her, grabbing both of her arms. Pulling them back, you make her kneel. Only your hands on her arms keep her upright.
Fucking her from behind feels better than missionary. You are able to penetrate her deeper. You are able to rock her body back and forth properly. And you can really pull her onto your cock.
But as you keep pounding into her, her hair starts to fall, swinging from left to right. It hits her face, whenever you pull at her arms and thrust into her. She has to close her mouth, letting out needy whimpers. But she can't hold it in for very long. And soon, she has some of her own hair in her mouth as she moans for more.
The only downside is, you can't see her face. Her gorgeous features must be twisted in pleasure, but you are missing out on seeing them. Her hair starts to have a life on its own as the pace and force of your thursts increase. It starts to cover parts of her face, while most of it is still resting against her back.
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You focus on the rhythm of your thrusts as you feel how deep you are inside of her. It feels like her pussy is getting better and better by the second. Your own pleasure increases, the harder you fuck her.
"Fuck!"
Venus suddenly cums around your cock. You missed the fact that she has been dead silent for the last couple of moments. Now, she is letting it all out again. Lewd words spill from her lips, just like her juices spill out of her pussy. She starts to stain the sheets underneath, almost slipping because of her own liquids.
Her orgasm overwhelms you, bringing you closer towards your own edge. You have been holding on for now, but the sight of Venus cuming right in front of you eventually proves too much.
You feel how you are growing tired, her pussy contracting around you with every thrust into it.
"I think I'm gonna cum!"
You groan, trying to warn Venus.
"Paint me! Stain me with your cum!"
She mewls as she feels you picking up the pace one last time. Her hair is still in her face, but she is unable to put it back. Her arms still behind her.
"Fuck."
You sigh as you finally pull out. You let go of her arms, letting Venus fall face first into the mattress. You hold your cock in your hand as you start to climax. Your cum hits her back. Rope after rope starts to stain her skin. Just like she wanted. Some of it gets onto the bra wire, the white globes visible on the black fabric.
"Fuck, I needed that."
You hear her mumble into the sheets, her voice muffled by the white cotton.
You still can't fully grasp what you just did. As soon as she came out of the bathroom it felt like someone else was controlling your body. It felt incredible nonetheless.
As you see Venus lying on her stomach in front of you, your cum on her back, you wonder what else there is to do. There is so much. There is so much the two of you could do. You whish you could explore even more of her body. To feel every inch of her skin.
When Venus finally turns her head to look up at you, you see her smile. Her eyes tell you that she is thinking the same thing.
"How do you want to fuck me next?"
934 notes · View notes
rninies · 11 days
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✮ math problems
౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, annoying ass ratio — wc: 711
notes. IM FINALLY BACK HI EVERYONE WHO MISSED ME (probably no one)
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veritas ratio is known to be the math expert in your university. not only was he the top student in your class, but the first-place champion in the mathematics olympians last year. sure, most girls are after him for his intelligence, but he is also insanely good-looking. lucky for you, veritas has had his eyes on you ever since your first day in university. it wasn’t a necessarily admirable first meet, but you came in late for your first class, and the only seat available was right next to veritas (you are sure every single girl in your class was looking at you with jealousy).
ever since that day, veritas has made it his goal in life to annoy you with his stupidly smart use of vocabulary and math knowledge. While he is basically flying as free as a bird during math class, you are suffering, not understanding a single meaning on your worksheet.
veritas, seeing you looking down on your paper confused, laughs mockingly. “are you seriously stumped over a math question? you know that’s the first question, right?” he places a hand under his chin, using it as a support to look at you. “do you need help?”
“no!” you immediately decline his offer, wanting to prove that you did not need his help. but, after five minutes of looking over the formulas and back to the worksheet, you sighed in despair, forehead coming into contact with the table. “okay, fine. Help.”
veritas raises his eyebrows. “ask nicely, then i will consider.”
you groaned. “please help me.” 
veritas smiles, satisfied. “okay, you need to use this formula instead of the formula you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes. that formula is only needed in the later questions.” he points at the formula you’ve written on the first page of your notebook.
“why didn’t you tell me before?!” you exclaim. “you must have thought i am an idiot for staring at the wrong formula.” you chewed the inside of your cheek, avoiding eye contact from veritas.
“you didn’t ask.” veritas shrugs. “besides, it is kind of funny seeing your struggle to correlate the wrong formula to the equation.” you slap his forearm, and he dramatically holds his arm, face scrunching in pain. “ow! that hurts!”
“oh come on, don’t be dramatic. besides, you’re way stronger than me.” you point out. “now help me solve the rest of the questions.” you give veritas the sweetest smile you can muster. “please.”
veritas scoffs at the fakeness of your smile but helps you regardless. he won’t admit it out loud, but seeing you smile at him makes his heart flutter — the way you smile at him, how you give him a proud look after solving a math question without his help, anything that you do makes his heart flutter.
as you solve the next questions, finally understanding what each means, you don’t notice the way veritas looks at you, eyes softening as he sees you concentrate on the questions.
the bell rings, snapping veritas out of his daze. he clears his throat and starts packing his bags. But, before he gets to do so, you slam your worksheet on his table. “look! everything’s correct, right?” he looks up and sees your eyes filled with hope. as he checks your worksheet, a warm feeling embraces him, finding out that everything is indeed correct.
“mhm. perfect score.” veritas messily drew a smiley face on top of your worksheet and you smiled happily, squealing. unable to contain your happiness, you hug him tightly. “woah-!”
“thank you, thank you, thank you!” before you know it, you plant a kiss on his cheek. shocked by your own actions, you immediately pull away, embarrassed. “i-i’m so sorry! that-”
“no, i don’t mind.” veritas mumbles, his cheeks turning red. “that was… nice.”
you blinked and burst out laughing. “nice? that's your first response to someone kissing you?”
“what else do you want me to say?” veritas huffs, crossing his arms. “oh, your kiss has saved me from the pain and suffering of math class?” he says sarcastically.
“now you’re exaggerating it.” you sigh. “since when did you ever suffer during math class?” instead of answering you, veritas just winks at you.
“so,” he starts. “when's our first date?”
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xlatiwritesx · 2 months
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Serious, serious | CL16
A/N: an F1 imagine 🏎️ !!! Yes, yes, I’m into F1 finally, so I of course had to write something and who else would it be than THE Charles Leclerc. Ngl, this isn’t my best work but I just had to get this idea out of my system 😵‍💫. Hope you guys enjoy it !!
Words: 1.6K
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: after your first serious scare being an F1 girlfriend, you’re rewarded with a new found emotion.
Time is a funny thing. Humorous, at times. It goes fast or slow as it pleases. Chooses its pace to get on your weakest nerve.
For instance, the past three months flew by. Meeting him, texting for the first time, your first date, your first kiss, attending his first race, getting to know his friends.
It felt as fast as blinking an eye. Or as fast as you were falling for him.
"A Ferrari car is off the track!" The commentator's voice boomed through the TV speakers. You jumped to your feet from the leather couch you were sat on.
"Oh no" the commentator said soon after. Soon after Charles' car crashed into the concrete wall alongside the track.
Your heart fell, your breath quickening at a dangerous rate. You shut your eyes, reminding yourself of what Charles always said to you.
"Crashes happen. All the time. These cars, though, they're meant to protect us. So, crashes aren’t as dangerous as they seem in F1"
"He's okay" you whispered to yourself. However, when you opened your eyes, everyone's face didn't confirm that, though.
"Right?" You asked, looking around the Ferrari unit. Everyone was frozen, eyes glued on the screen that showed smoke coming out of the crashed Ferrari car.
Charles' car.
Your legs moved before you even decided. You ran so fast. Faster than any car still racing out there even though the world seemed to crumble and break into pieces.
You gasped for air, the wind making it colder than usual. You reached a half empty Ferrari station. All those screens deserted. You barely held yourself up. You wondered how bad was it that half the team had to go to the scene.
"Crashes are normal in Formula One. Almost inevitable"
Not when it's the guy that you were realizing meant much more to you than you thought. The thought terrified you. So much terrified you all of a sudden.
"How do I get there?" You didn't realize how panicked you were until you heard yourself speak. The man stared at you in confusion.
"How do I get to the crash?" You urged. You couldn't believe you were saying that.
"Ma'am, you can't just go-“
"No, no! I have to!" You could feel your eyes well with tears.
"It's Charles Leclerc! Hurry!" A group of paramedics ran to their veichle. You ran after them.
"Ma'am this is not allowed-"
"Please!" You begged them.
"I'm sorry, this is for authorized-"
"Y/n!" You turned around, desperate to believe what you were hearing.
"Carlos! Carlos, please tell me he's okay" you ran to the only person that you felt would care enough to tend to your worries.
"They're taking him to the hospital" he sighed, bowing his head, his fingertips barely holding his helmet.
"W-why?" You stuttered. He finally looked at you.
"Let's just go"
You silently followed Carlos to his car after he quickly changed out of his suit. The drive to the hospital drove you insane. So many questions. Wondering about so much, too much at once.
As soon as Carlos parked outside the emergencies, you ran out of the car and through the glass doors, not caring about all the chaos going just outside of them.
"How serious is it?!"
"Do you think Leclerc will be able to go back to racing?!"
"Will he be there for the next race?!"
It was a lot. Too much, even. You wanted to scream them away. Tell them that this wasn't the time to ask all those questions with bright cameras and microphones everywhere. To respect the other patients' and their families' privacy. But you care more about Charles right now. So you kept running until your hands hit the edge of the counter.
"Charles Leclerc just came in" you breathed. The nurse widened her eyes at your state and just pointed to where he was.
You got to his bed in no time, him just lying there, unconscious. You immediately held his hand and the waterworks began. Carlos walked into the curtain closed space and stood in front of the bed, leaning on the edge.
"Hey" he called so quietly. You just kept crying.
"I don't recommend dating a Formula One driver if you'll cry this hard every time he crashes" he said casually. You stopped sobbing and looked up and to your left. You glared. Carlos shrugged.
"Just saying" he said, looking away.
"Carlos!" You whined. He looked at you, but you just went back to looking at Charles.
You noticed some bruises already forming on his hands. You held it tighter. You felt like time was not moving. It just dragged on and on. Carlos stood there. You sat there. Charles laid there. Just like that. For eternity.
"You didn't eat anything. What do you want?" Carlos' voice reminded you of his existence. You slowly turned to look at him, your tears barely dried on your face.
"How can you be so…chill?" You asked. Not in annoyance. Just out of pure curiosity. Carlos frowned at you for a second, before breaking into a fit of laughter. You stared at him blankly, your hand still holding Charles' tightly.
"I'm telling you! This sport is not for the faint of heart!" He waved a warning finger at you and you frowned at him. This time in annoyance.
"We just" he sighed when he stopped laughing, only a smile left behind from it.
"We get used to this. To seeing it. To being victims of it" he said ever so casually that it terrified you. It was terrifying the things passion makes a person do. How far people would go for what they love.
"I'm getting food and you will eat it. Charles would kill me if he woke up to a starving you while I was just hanging here. Deal?" He raised a brow at you. You hesitated, but Carlos kept his gaze. You finally nodded.
"Good. I'll be back in a bit" he said before leaving. You watched him go and something warm filled you. Gratitude.
You were grateful for him staying with you. With Charles. Not all drivers care enough to do that, unfortunately. You didn't notice the smile on your face until a few minutes later. When Charles spoke.
"What's so funny?" He mumbled. Your eyes shot to his and you stood up in an instant.
"Charles?!" You exclaimed, tears filling your eyes for the millionth time today. He just blinked, wincing.
“Who won the race?” He asked, still trying to find his voice.
"Oh my god" you covered your face, walking away from his bed in disbelief.
“Seriously?!” You spun around, crying. You wanted to fight even harder when a smile slowly took form on his tired face.
“Charles do you know how terrified I was?! And all you’re worried about is who won that race?!” You kept scolding. He placed one arm behind his head, still watching you in amusement. You breathed heavily, not bothering to wipe your tears as you crossed your arms over your chest.
You watched him laying there, smiling with his arm under his head, giving him better view of your tear-stained face.
“You know what?” He spoke. You had to walk a step closer so you could hear him clearly.
“I don’t want to know who won the race. I want to know how on earth did I get this lucky” he started.
“Yeah! I’m so glad it just cane down to some bruises. And, and, you’re awake, and you’re talking, and you seem okay!” You rambled, now sitting by his side on the edge of the bed. He chuckled softly at you missing what he meant, raising a hand to wipe your tears, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Right when I realized what was happening, there was one thought that kept echoing in my mind” he whispered, suddenly all serious. Your heartbeat quickened, not enjoying the memory of watching him crash and not knowing what he was feeling or if he was going to be okay.
“I just kept thinking ‘fuck. I didn’t get to tell her I love her’” he confessed. You raised your brows slightly, surprised at the sudden confession. You’ve been together for three months now and neither of you had said it, yet.
But there it was. And it felt like the world that crumbled after the race was patched and stitched back to perfect, pristine condition.
You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. Charles smiled as well, his heart monitor exposing how important this moment was to him.
You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck carefully, holding him tightly to make up for all the fear of losing him. For all the fear of him not feeling the same way.
“I love you, too, Charles” you whispered.
You held each other for as long as it took for your flushed cheeks and racing hearts to quiet down, giving your new found feelings some sense of privacy.
Once you pulled away, your faces met, less than an inch apart. Charles leaned in. You were grateful there was no heart monitor on you, or that would’ve been the end.
“So, I didn’t know which is your favorite, so I got all flavors-“
Carlos’ voice sent you flying to your feet. Charles sat where he was and pierced his lips shut, staring at nothing in particular.
Carlos’ eyes danced between the two of you and he broke into a grin when he realized.
“I think it finally happened?” Carlos asked, hinting at what you both just confessed to one another. You glanced at Charles just to catch him glancing at you. He cleared his throat and you held back a smile.
“So now it’s serious, serious?” Carlos asked excitedly.
“Serious, serious” you both answered.
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backwardsbread · 18 days
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters:
~First I love you~
Warnings‼️: use of pet names, a dash of angst for Adam and Lucifer (I’m sorry), swearing, GN!Reader, Lucifer doesn’t really say it but it’s still cute I think.
A/N:Okay I’m VERY into fluffy scenarios with these characters rn- MY HEART- thank you guys for all the love towards these and I hope you enjoy! This is sorta rushed because I’m TIRED and working on TOO MANY THINGS.;-;
~not proofread~
Vox:
I’ve mentioned this in previous headcannons with Vox, but dating someone was most definitely not part of his plan.
He views himself as this big bad overlord who would never go soft for anyone.
Dude thinks he’s too good for anybody, even Vel and Val sometimes. He’s very proud of his work and what he does and doesn’t like anyone getting in the way of that.
You’re only a slight exception.
Who he would literally do anything for
He tries to keep your guys’ relationship very much under wraps. He understands how dangerous of a person he is to be around.
Sharing your relationship to the public would basically be an open invitation for anyone who has beef with Vox,
Including a pesky radio demon
To target you.
So while he denies your guys’ relationship to anyone and everyone, it’s understood between the two of you what you guys truly have.
However, Velvette and Val are able to see right through Vox’s bullshit when he starts getting feelings for you. They see how he reacts to your messages, your affections, and your presence.
They know Vox has a soft spot for you, but since they like their heads attached to their bodies, they keep their mouths shut.
As his feelings for you grow, it became more and more obvious to anyone with common sense what was going on.
The man literally relaxes at the mention of you.
Unbeknownst to Vox, literally EVERYONE knows about your guys’ ‘secret’ relationship.
Vox doesn’t realize how easy he is to read. He’s an impulsive liar, and a good one at that, but his actions very much contradict the lies he spits.
He could literally be screaming at one of his employees for who knows what, and if you walk into the room, his eyes soften and his attention is on you.
He’s straightening out his posture, trying to look as if he wasn’t about to murder one of his employees.
(He would deal with them later)
Despite how obvious his and your feelings are towards one another, Vox still doesn’t make anything public, letting fans and overlords alike to speculate.
It was a poorly kept secret but one the two of you mutually agreed to keep.
You are in Hell afterall. Saying you were the TV faced overlords significant other was like sticking a paper on your back that says ‘Kick me’
Vox does his best to balance his life with you and his work life. Work was all he ever knew, so when you entered his afterlife, scheduling became a huge issue.
He would love to spend every moment by your side but he’s work too hard. His empire is too important to him.
So while the two of you didn’t go out too frequently on dates or outings,
(But trust me when you do, it is luxurious. He makes the limited time you spend together worth it.)
Vox was always making a way to communicate with you.
Whether that be via phone call or through text messages, he’s always making sure to make an effort to spend time with you. Even if it was just hearing your voice and seeing your words through a screen.
On your off days, he keeps you on an ongoing call in his TV room at all times. Unless you have something planned of course, then it’s back to the texting.
He would be in and out of his screen room frequently between meetings and whatever other things he had to do. The little lair of his was where he spent a lot of his time catching up on paperwork, checking up on the latest releases, and working through the insane amount of work emails he received.
All while talking to you. Whether it was ranting about his day or yours, or if it was talking about what your guys’ next date would be or even just enjoying each other's silent, distant, company.
That brought you to now; listening to your significant other rant about his overlord associates who had sprung a last minute meeting on him.
You listen to him shuffling around his office, grumbling as he put on his suit jacket.
He rambled on grumpily while you listened with an amused smile. He swore under his breath as he looked at his watch.
"Alright doll, I'll be back in about an hour."
"Boooo."
"I know, but once this bullshit is over, I just have paperwork so I'll be all yours, I’ll talk to you later."
"Alright, see you in a bit, I love you.”
“Mhm, Love you too.”
Vox hurries out of his media room without a second thought, zapping into a nearby security camera and appearing into the meeting room in a bolt of electricity.
He begrudgingly sat in his chair slumping into himself and mentally preparing for the chaos his coworkers were about to create.
As Velvette and Val went at each other throats, his mind drifted to the thought of you.
God, he would give anything to just be next to you instead on enduring this Hell within Hell.
He zoned out, thinking about how you were sitting on call in his office, waiting for his return. You were so loyal to him.
He thought about you, your company and your voice, the way you sounded when you said you loved him.
Realization hits him like a freight train, his screen glitching out a bit and his fans kicking into high gear as he replays the conversation the two of you had before his abrupt departure.
He kind of stays in stunned silence for a moment, in complete utter shock. Was he dreaming?? He said it back so casually! Too casually!
He whips out his phone, shooting you a quick text:
~“You said you loved me??????”
It takes a few seconds for you to respond, but it feels far too long for Vox.
~“Yeah? You said it back”
~“I didn’t realize I did.”
~“Oh. Did you not mean to?”
~“No!”
~“Fuck that came out wrong. Hold on.”
Vox went into panic mode, his screen glitching in and out. Velvette and Valentinos arguing becoming muted background noise.
He tried his best not to blue screen or shut down completely, taking a deep breath to regain composure before he texted you back.
~“I do. I love you too.”
And boy are you glad Vox can’t see your right now because you are sure he would be soaking in your embarrassment with that prideful grin on his face.
You knew you said it first and honestly it felt natural coming out.
But knowing Vox felt the same, hearing him saying it, or well, seeing him say it.
Seeing that he got over his own pride to just say it by himself meant a lot to you.
It made your chest feel warm with joy, your stomach fluttered with imaginary butterflies, and your face burned red from those words that somehow meant more coming from him.
But of course you couldn’t let him know how giddy he truly made you.
Please don’t boost his ego more-
So instead you respond with;
~“That’s pretty corny, flat screen.”
Your reaction to his admission completely catches Vox off guard. He finds himself smirking to himself, somehow feeling better with you not taking him too seriously.
He couldn’t even hear his coworkers screaming at him, wanting his input on the subject they were arguing about.
He just chuckles to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket. Giving fake hums and nods of acknowledgment. Replaying those three little words in his head over and over and over.
Adam:
Holy shit, this man is too up his own ass to realize how bad he’s got it for you.
Don’t get me wrong, the man’s stuck up. He’s selfish. But whatever you ask?
Yeah you’ve got it or it’s at least getting done by the end of the day.
He’s got it bad.
He usually denies your request at first. He’s ’above such things’.
But whatever request it may be, whether it be him stopping to get food or requesting a late night cuddle session. He’s a sucker for you.
And everyone knows it but he will deny it to no end. No way is he soft for you. Nu-uh.
Because of his status and massive ego, it stops him from acting how he wants to around you for a long time.
Like, he’d love to hold your hand, be with you 24/7 in the streets of heaven.
But deep down he’s super self conscious about getting into a relationship. Man lost not one, but TWO wives that’s were MADE for him.
You’re good at getting him to show his true colors though. Straightening him out when he’s pushed too far.
He definitely made a big show about asking you out as well. Mostly to make himself less nervous about doing it.
According to him ‘it’s an honor he’s even asking you’
Which lead to you giving him a death glare and ignoring his ask the rest of the day until he asked you genuinely.
(He then surprised you at the end of the day with chocolates, a romantic dinner, and a huge blanket fort, where you guys cuddled and watched movies until 2 am. Where he asks you again to be his partner properly this time, not letting his ego get the better of him.)
But that aside, you’re one of the few people who can see through Adam’s egotistical exterior.
I hc that he’s a big softie. So oh boy, when you utter these three little words to him, they gain so much more meaning.
I mean we already know the man loves praise. Hearing it from you is a whole different level of euphoria.
It was the morning of an extermination, and while you weren’t meant to know, Adam couldn’t keep anything from you. You ended up finding out about his yearly activities in killing sinners.
The two of you didn’t speak of it often. It’s not like Adam was supposed to speak on the matter anyways.
But when you heard about the exterminations now coming twice a year?
You couldn’t help but feel nervous for your significant other. Sure Adam was strong, but who knew what the hell spawn were capable of?
Adam had finished getting dressed, walking out of his room with his mask in hand.
He seemed like a giddy child, muttering excitedly how he ready he was. It was a way to get the adrenaline flowing and get him hyped for the big day.
Despite how gruesome it was, he did love his job and the praise he received for it.
You’re laying on the couch watching Adam, hearing only your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Adam put on his mask, looking towards you and giving a small wave.
“Alright babe! I’ll see ya later. Hey, you should order from that one kick ass pizza place tonight! Celebration dinner after I wipe out those fuckin’ hellspawn!”
You’re quick to blink out of your panicked daze, swinging your legs over the cushions and nearly tripping over yourself as you go over to him before he can get out the door.
You let out a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust off his pristine war outfit.
“Just.. don’t be stupid. Alright? Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”
“Uhh. Babe. You do realize who you’re dating right?? I’m fucking Adam! The original-.”
“Original dick, first man, yes yes I know.”
He looked at you through his mask, his grin faltering at the edges when he saw your eyes drowning in worry that you hid behind a nervous smile.
You avoid his gaze, continuing to try and find things in his outfit to straighten out before he can leave.
If you’re lucky, you’ll find something bad enough causing him to have to stay home.
Where it was safe with you.
Adam puts a hand over your own, stopping you from brushing imaginary fuzz off the front of his shirt.
You meet his gaze, and despite his mask being on, you see a genuine soft smile. One of adoration and reassurance.
One that made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.
You press a quick kiss against his mask where a projection of his lips were.
He always hated when you did that. You depriving him of your real soft lips against his own.
Just ask him to take the mask off, he would do it if it meant he could kiss you.
Before he can complain, you gently squeeze his hand, letting out a whispered voice. Almost sounding too nervous- no, too scared- to speak.
“I love you.. please be careful..”
You go to let go of his hand so he can be on his merry way. But he’s quick to process your words.
He tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you in closer to him. A look of shock is evident on his face.
He squeezes your hand, pulling you against his chest. He moves his face, almost uncomfortably close, with his mask causing forced distance between you.
“Say that again.”
Now you were a little confused.
What did you even say again?
Did Adam suddenly get cold feet with the whole extermination?
He kept your body in a sort of pose that looked like you were going to start dancing.
His one hand in your own, holding tightly while his other arm wrapped around your torso, hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close.
Your body pressed against his, it seemed he only wanted you closer, keeping a firm arm wrapped around your torso while you waited for you to repeat your words.
You look up at Adam, repeating your own words in your head. The realization of what you said and, what he wanted to hear again from you, made your face flush from light shades of pink to dark hues of red.
Adam has a smug grin on his face, keeping his tight grip on you. Refusing to let you go until you give him what he wants.
You see the look on his face and roll your eyes a bit while smiling. In a sudden rush of confidence, you kiss his mask again, wiping that smug smirk off his face.
“I love you.. be careful.”
You repeat, once again before Adam can complain about your teased kisses.
Part of Adam is glad you can’t see his face, which was burning red from your actions and words. You speaking sweetness enough to make him melt in your arms.
Those three little words that seemed so cliche before you uttered them.
He lets go of your hand so he can lift his mask off over his head. As soon as it’s off, he’s leaning in to kiss you. Just before his lips reach yours, whispering back a small:
“I love you too, babe.”
And just like that, he’s kissing you in the most soft and genuine way Adam can be. How he always was with you.
You didn’t know that would be the first and last time you would get to utter those words to your partner.
You didn’t know Adam wouldn’t be returning back to heaven after his expedition.
You didn’t know you’d only be able to hold his empty halo, whispering the lost words you never got to say to him.
Adam never planned to leave you alone questioning your faith.
You didn’t know, but at least Adam knew you loved him before it was too late.
Lucifer:
Another big sap despite his title.
Of ya know. The devil.
He met you a few months after Lillith left. So you saw him at rock bottom.
You met him at rock bottom. Wallowing in sorrows and self pity, waiting for his wife to return.
You never did pry at the king, one because he was your superior, and two because he was never in the right mind space to listen to you.
You offered an ear when he needed, an occasional shoulder to lean on when Lucifer had downed too many bottles.
You made sure the king stayed fed and physically stable. Forcing him out of bed on bad days.
(Well i wouldn’t say forcing. You’d sit beside him, rubbing his back while he lets gentle tears fall down his face. Whispering reassuring words and asking what he wants to eat so he would get up and get his desired meal you serve)
(It’s more of convincing and encouraging)
Lucifer had spent his eternity with Lillith. Having been with someone so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
He was angry. He was grief stricken. He was confused. He was sad.
Her departure tore him and the family they had made apart.
You made him feel normal again. Like he wasn’t a failure of a king, husband, and father. You made him feel okay about himself.
Slowly over the years, Lucifer was recovering. It was painfully slow, but you had patience. These things took time overall.
He would never truly be over his wife’s leaving, not really knowing the reason why she had gone, only blaming himself for it.
A part of his heart was torn out that day, but you worked to fill it with new hope.
Lucifer is completely blind to your doing for awhile. I mean he spent a couple years disassociated from everything.
You provided everything for him and he barely knew anything about you. What was your intent in the first place?
He did ask you this once, why you were helping him. Why you did what you did.
Your reason was simple but struck a chord with Lucifer.
You said he deserved to be loved.
Loved.
He had half the mind to burst out in tears right then and there
After that admission, Lucifer set a goal to become a sort of equal to you. To provide for you as you had for him.
The newfound determination to basically serve you got the king of hell up and moving again.
What the two of you had felt so domestic. Cooking and cleaning together, tending to the garden Lucifer had made with Lillith. He couldn’t bare to step foot in it after she left.
But when he saw you out there in the garden covered in dirt and mud, yanking pesky weeds from the ground.
He couldn’t help but go out there. He didn’t even know you had been tending to it.
Most life had died in the garden with Lucifer’s marriage. Painful and sad
It became a midday chore for you while Lucifer grieved indoors. You caught eye of the gardens beauty one day and thought to spruce it up a bit.
When Lucifer was on his feet again, he joined you in this chore. Trimming away dead branches, pulling weeds, picking fruit that had ripened enough.
While he could just use his angelic power to grow these things, nurturing the plants from the start and watching them thrive and bloom was something he enjoyed ever since creation started.
It was something so special to him. So pure and a reminder of home.
The two of you grew closer with this shared chore, it didn’t quite feel like a chore anymore. As it was something the two of you looked forward to now.
Lucifer could feel himself falling. It was what he was prone to doing. But he couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable again.
Everytime he had fallen it left him bruised and lost. And if he lost you, he didn’t know if anyone would come pick him up again.
He could only get so lucky so many times.
He was currently looking at an open space near the center of the extensive garden. Where several paths met up in the middle of the garden. Where large trees formed a sort of dome shape protecting anything beneath them.
Lucifer hummed to himself, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, spreading the dirt on his fingertips to his face.
He glanced at how much space there was in the center of the garden. He always thought the center was bland. Sure you could lay down and look up towards Hell’s blood skies, but after centuries of seeing nothing but red above him, the sight got boring.
Besides, his creativity was bubbling in him. Begging for something new.
With a point of his finger, golden hues shot out, a large fountain forming in the middle of the gardens. It wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the trees above, but it did challenge them.
The white cement water fountain had edges to sit comfortably, three tiers, with little ducks on the middle layer spitting out water into the pool below.
Gold accents decorated each layer of the fountain. The pool to hold the water having a ruby red color, making the water appear like blood when it sat at the bottom.
Lucifer walked around the fountain, looking over every detail of his work. Making sure it was pristine and perfect.
He enjoyed it for the smallest moment, leaning his hands against the base of the fountain, leaning in to look at his reflection.
He then grew frustrated, not able to enjoy his own creation. It wasn’t good enough, not if it was made from his hands.
He growled, slapping his hand through the water, causing it to splash out. He gripped the edge of the fountain, gritting his teeth.
“Goodness..”
Your voice made him quite frankly jump into the air, falling onto his butt. His head snapped in your directions.
Your eyes were blown wide while you stared at Lucifer’s newest creation. Hands gripping a basket of freshly picked produce from the garden.
The king sits up, stuttering over himself as you move closer to get a better look at the fountain.
“You made this?”
You ask quietly, gently running your fingertips against the designs of the sides of the fountain, feeling the smooth detailing.
“Yeah I know.. it’s uh.. it’s-..”
“It’s beautiful.”
Lucifer visibly tenses at your words, looking up at you with eyes wide in shock.
He was dumbfounded, he looked like a child sitting on the ground just staring at you like this.
You look down at him, seeing his eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging on the floor. You can’t help but chuckle, deciding to take a seat next to him.
You set the basket between the two of you. Picking up a peach from the basket.
“The produce is growing lovely this year.”
You compliment the gardens hard work. Lucifer blinks out of his daydream, looking at the basket between the two of you.
His heart swells with joy. A sense of accomplishment that his creation, something he made, you thought it was beautiful.
His eyes trail to you. The light peering through the branches above you casting perfect rays on your skin.
Your company felt like home. It felt warm and comforting.
And in this light, in the garden, you looked just like…
“I love y-..”
Lucifer starts to speak before his mind can stop him. When you meet his gaze, his voice catches in his throat.
His face flushes golden colors when he caught himself almost daring to say that to you.
He lets out a comedic laugh, awkward and loud.
“..youuurrr COMPANY! Hah! Wow what a nice day! Gee golly, can’t imagine it any other way haha!”
You stare at him for a moment. Of course you were use to Lucifer’s occasional awkwardness behavior, but often times you had to read between the lines to understand what he truly meant/wanted to say.
You kind of got at what he was trying to say, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest at the thought of it.
But it wasn’t the right time. You knew Lucifer wasn’t ready.
You offer her a small smile, handing the fruit to Lucifer. You reach a hand up to wipe the dirt off his chin.
“I love it too. Any day with you.”
Lucifer’s face flushed gold once again, shoulders relaxing. He instinctively leaned into your touch, looking up at the fountain.
Patience. So patient with him.
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