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alastorthirsty · 2 days ago

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Alastor Hands You the Aux Cord - Alastor x f!reader

Anon asked for: Hello! Love ur work :) Alastor x f!reader fluff & heavy smut inspired by the song “soaked” by shy smith???

Honey, you got a lot more than you bargained for, and even then I¨m not quite sure that I did it correctly. Alas! I hope you enjoy it either way. So sorry this took so long, it was an undertaking.

Summary: I suck at these so just be patient and kind. Reader was a radio/sound engineer in life and begins to work with Alastor rather closely.

Dividers by @konatasoup

Warnings: Listen, we all know Alastor is a Bad Man(tm). In this story and many, many others, Fucked Up Alastor is going to say Fucked Up Things. Alastor is a sentient red flag. I would like to kindly remind you that you need to carefully decide whether or not that's too much for you before you begin to read. I'd hate it if you read and got triggered by some possessive or otherwise red flag dialogue/prose! If it’s not for you you can simply block me and avoid my other fanfiction. You're responsible for your own reading experience! If smut is not for you, this is not for you. Other warnings include briskets, sandwiches, p in v intercourse, I don't know, standard fare, Alastor is a deeply jealous and possessive man, colleagues to lovers, Alastor’s fluffy, fluffy ears are an erogenous zone I don’t care lalalalala

Words: 9521

Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open and the guidelines are in my pinned post! I

It would be VERY helpful for your reading experience if you listen to the provided music! If the response is good there will be a part two :)

SMUT

Masterlist

It was the sensible thing to do, and took surprisingly little effort to get him to agree. All you said was that radio lived on in your lifespan, nearly one hundred years after his death. You asked if, in life, he would have happily adjusted to innovations in radio technology, and you remember the way he looked down at his claws, all tightened into fists that slowly unfurled. He begrudgingly admitted that he would have.

“That type of microphone you’ve got there wasn’t invented until after you died,” you pointed out.

Radio had been your life’s passion in the living world just as it had been for Alastor. You began in university as a DJ, then changed your major to reflect your newfound love. You started off with communications engineering in undergraduate studies and moved on to wireless communications engineering. Twelve years of your life, you had dedicated to radio.

You were the perfect candidate, and best of all you could make yourself obsolete by teaching him what he needed to know, so it was a win all-around. Kinda. It remains to be seen what he would do with you once you became obsolete.

You did, however, strike up a friendship. Alastor would admit readily that you were a good sound engineer and constantly upgraded his equipment. He would also admit, not quite as readily, that speaking to you was pleasant. You never batted an eye while he ripped apart souls, which he found surprising at first, but when you pulled out a sandwich to eat whilst he did so it elevated to…cute. He typically hates things that are cute.

Okay, fine, you’re cute.

As time passed, you grew more comfortable with each other. Sometimes you even offer him pre-soul breaking sandwiches, and Alastor eats them simply because they were offered by you. He has no idea what a “PB&J” is, only that whoever created it must surely be living amongst you all in hell. He always eats them, though. Every last morsel.

Then something quite remarkable happened. Alastor sat you down after an unusually long broadcast, took the pistachios that you offered him, and gave you the best gift you had ever received.

“Only one,” he said, poking your chest several times. “One song of your choosing at the end of my broadcast. Do you understand?”

You remember nodding so hard it almost hurt.

You had tried not to seem too enthused, so as not to betray your true excitement to your finicky friend, but shouted joyfully into a pillow when you got to your hotel room. You rolled all over your bed, still screaming into the pillow, and spent the rest of the night curating various playlists for the post-show tunes.

The two of you became inseparable. When you weren’t on air, you were still working together on scripts, advertising campaigns, marketing strategies, even merchandising, a pencil stuck through your hair, sandwich wrappers discarded haphazardly.

‘I got my soul ripped apart by the Radio Demon and all I got was this fucking shirt’.

You’re more excited about this than him by far, but it was becoming harder and harder to deny you a thing. He’s always criticised Vox’s use of petty merchandise to belittle him, but this was different. Entirely.

It had been a rather destructive day in the radio tower the first time you played a song. There were three soul rendings today, so everything but you was covered in blood and viscera. Alastor, with a small smile, offered you his staff, and explained all you had to do was play a song on your phone while holding it.

It felt special. It almost made your cheeks warm, but that crisis was thankfully averted and you chose a tribute to radio itself as your first ever post-show track.

‘Radio, someone still loves you.’

Alastor didn’t look particularly happy with what he’d heard, but he did give you an amused little pat on the head before taking his staff and leaving the radio tower, still covered in blood.

You remember all of that fondly and take a bite of your sandwich. Alastor takes one bite of his and goes feral.

“Calm down over there,” you chastise. “It’s just pastrami.”

He swallows. “You know my feelings about brisket, darling.”

“Well, I’ll bring you more pastrami in the future, then. Maybe I’ll even make you a brisket someday.”

“Yes, you should,” he almost snaps. “And I’ll have no more ‘peanut butter’, by the way.”

“Do you like the almond butter better?” you ask, offering him another sandwich from the basket you brought with you

“…I prefer the pistachio and cashew one.”

“Okay, I’ll find more of that,” you say before passing him a napkin. You sigh and grab the clipboard set to the wayside. “No souls today.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he says.

“Isn’t that less fun for you?”

Alastor ponders over his answer for a moment. “It is more fun to murder. However, not having one or more to murder also means that no one has challenged or crossed me. That is better in the long run.”

“I can see that logic.” You nod, then go back to the clipboard. “Oh, I can’t be here on Saturday.”

His expression sours and his eyes narrow. “And why is that, darling?”

You smile at him, arms up. “I’m going to Lu Lu World!”

“What in the world is that, darling? Wait a moment.” His eyes narrow anymore. “It has nothing to do with that circus freak does it?”

You purse your lips and tilt your head, staring at him. “You’ve lost me.”

“The hell I have. I find it absolutely unacceptable that you would leave work behind in order to prance around in an amusement park.”

“I don’t plan on prancing, so we’re good,” you say. You wrinkle your nose and chuckle a little at his steadily souring expression. “Tell you what. I’ll make you that brisket.”

“Two briskets,” he’s quick to demand. “No, three. Three briskets, and I’m not sharing with the others like you made me do on Beignet Day.”

“That was never meant to be just for your enjoyment!”

“Well, it should have been!” he snaps.

You laugh again and fold your hands over the clipboard. “I will miss work on Saturday to be escorted around Lu Lu World by its namesake and you will receive three briskets at a time of your choosing. You’re in for a treat, I make the best brisket. My husband loved it.”

A pregnant silence fills the radio tower.

“I find it equally unacceptable for you to have a husband. No, no more of that,” he says finally.

“I’d like to think I’ll find love again someday!” you say, laughing.

He huffs. “Is it a date?”

“Is what a date?”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Your petty little outing to the amusement park with the circus freak!”

“He’s the King of Hell, not a circus freak!” you exclaim.

“If he doesn’t want to be called a circus freak he should dress like an adult male,” he says.

At that, you sit up straight, arms folded, and stare at him. “Do you really want to go there? Making fun of how he dresses?”

“My manner of dress is unimpeachable! Everything is just so!” Alastor gestures at his suit, then narrows his eyes again. “You will not marry him.”

“Marriage isn’t on the table, I’m just visiting his park with him. It’s closed for the day, no one but us! Oh, but also you can’t tell me who I can and can’t marry,” you say.

“There will be no marriages at all! We have work to do, important work!” He closes his eyes, touches his forehead, and growls. “Do not sass me.”

You take another bite out of your sandwich. “So I won’t be here Saturday.”

“…Fine. I can go back to the Stone Age for one damn day.”

You groan. “I’m glad no one else knows of your flair for the dramatic.”

“And you’d do well to keep it that way,” he says. He holds up three fingers. “Three briskets. I want them all at once.”

“I don’t have the time to do them today, as you said, we have important-ish work to do,” you say.

He eyes you again. “Three. Briskets.”

You throw your hands up. “Fine! I hope you get a tummy ache!”

“I will not! I will enjoy the briskets and be fine!” Alastor adjusts his butterfly tie and stands up from his chair. “And you will make up for lost time from your Saturday outing.”

“No I won’t,” you say. “I’m under no such obligation to work every single day with no breaks. I just haven’t had anything better to do in a while.”

Alastor’s hand smacks against a panel. “No! You’re to work with me every day, that is the arrangement! Good god, woman, you are so insolent today. All of hell listens to these broadcasts. I do not know how to do what you do. You have made yourself necessary and now you want to cut and run so you can have intercourse with that circus freak in a hall of mirrors.”

You tilt your head back and laugh.

He looks unamused by this. “What? What is it? Why are you laughing?”

“I suppose I’d better fuck him in the hall of mirrors, then, if you think the opportunity presents itself.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and put everything else in the garbage for Niffty to collect.

Alastor’s ears flatten. “I do not like you today.”

“Nah, you adore me.” You look closer at the agenda for today and begin warming up the necessary equipment. You pull on your headphones “Thirty seconds, Al.”

He nods and repeats it back to you. “Thirty seconds, Al.”

By the end of the show, you’ve already got your topical track selection queued up. Alastor stands up and stretches before giving the staff to you and rifling around for more sandwiches in the basket.

‘They come running just as fast as they can ‘cause every girl crazy bout a sharp-dressed man’

You lip sync along, not realising you’re being watched. Alastor smiles to himself and waits for his staff to be given back to him. When it is, he almost remarks about your Saturday outing. Almost.

In your bedroom, you stretch and yawn. It’s late and you need to be with Alastor relatively early, so you go about your nightly routine. Brushed teeth, silky pyjamas, all lotioned up, feeling amazing. That is, until you walk back to the area with the bed. You scream and jump, but your surprise is quickly replaced by anger. Alastor laughs from his comfy position against your pillows.

He points at you. “You are the chicken in this relationship.”

You get in beside him and try to shove him out of the bed, chuckling as he easily resisted. “What are you doing in here?”

He’s still laughing. “I came to collect you! Emergency broadcast.”

You groan loudly. “Absolutely fucking not!”

“Yes!” He wraps an arm around you and drags you up from the bed. “It won’t take too long.”

“Who the hell pissed you off this much that you have to do this right now, at two in the morning?” you asked.

The answer makes your stomach drop.

“Husker!” he says excitedly.

You flail. “No. No! No, Alastor, you can’t do that!”

“I assure you that I can,” he says, now picking you up and carrying you towards the radio tower. “Husker’s soul is mine to do what I want with it, and he knew that before he started making trouble tonight.”

“Alastor!” you shout. “Put me down!”

He looks confused, but carefully sets you down. There are tears on your face that confound him. “What is the matter, my dear?”

“You can’t kill Husk.” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “You can’t. I know you can in the literal sense of the word. I know that you can, but you can’t, please, I am begging you not to do this. Please, Alastor.”

“Do not mourn for him,” Alastor says. “No one mourned him in life.”

“I think that’s not true,” you say, but take his hands, squeezing them. “Just, just tell me what he did. I’ll fix it. I swear, I’ll fix it.”

Alastor looks down at your hands, so much smaller than his, trying to calm him down. “You really care, hm?”

“Alastor, please, please,” you whisper, squeezing his hands again. “Alastor, don’t do it. I have never asked you for a thing and I never will again if you just please don’t do this. Please don’t kill him, he’s my friend. He’s a soul in the bank for you, but he’s my friend.”

He’s quiet for a very long time, watching your breakdown. You know how it looks. He hates weakness, he hates vulnerability—

Alastor puts his hand on the side of your face and pushes hair away. “Okay, darling. If you want Husker to keep dusting bottles and consuming their entire contents, then that you shall have.”

You feel embarrassed all of a sudden and wipe your eyes. “How about I make you a brisket instead?”

“No brisket is required,” he says. “If you want it then you will have it. I am a man of my word. I will find other means to discipline Husker.”

“Don’t hurt Angel,” you say immediately. “Please. They’re all afraid of you already, you don’t have to do anything to keep them in line. I don’t know what Husk did, but I don’t believe it warrants his death and it definitely doesn’t mean you can do something bad to the only thing he loves more than booze or gambling.”

“Okay,” Alastor agrees.

You blink. “I know it’s not that simple. What do you want?”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” he asks.

“Me? Personally?” You think for a moment before shaking your head. “No. But—“

“I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me,” Alastor says. “I have worked with you closely for months now. I do what I say I will do. If you want that damned cat and his spider to live and be unharmed then I will give you that.”

“What do you want in exchange? Don’t say my soul, I’m not giving it.”

“No, not your soul,” he says. “A simple deal.”

You stand up straighter. “A deal? What?”

“I let Husker and the spider go unharmed and you will in exchange never have intercourse with the circus freak.”

Your arms cross. “Alastor, that’s fucked up.”

“I know!” he says warmly.

After a moment, you reach your hand out towards him. He takes it in his and squeezes it, gentle and warm. You’ve seen his power, the green flashes of light.

But there are no green lights. His tentacles remain hidden. The floor doesn’t shake.

It wasn’t a real deal, but you said nothing about that. This was all very strange, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Taking his hand, you give it a pull.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go on air anyway. Come.”

He tuts at you. “Rather bossy tonight, my dear.”

“I’ll make sandwiches,” you offer, and he nods.

“Yes, you will make sandwiches—pastrami.”

‘I am just living to be lying by your side but I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road’

Once Alastor takes the staff from you, he notices that you’ve fallen asleep in your chair. He rides the dark with you in his arms, depositing you safely into your bed.

The next night, for some reason, Husk makes sure your dirty martinis come with two olives and no complaints.

“You will go away from the hotel.”

You look up from your phone, your feet up on one of the panels you’ve been working on. “Excuse me?”

Alastor is stern, serious. His eyes betray no laughter, not a single joke. “You will leave the hotel.”

“No,” you say immediately.

“The Extermination is exactly one week from now, and you will leave the hotel. You will go someplace safe.”

“No,” you say again. “No, hell no, I’m not leaving you all by yourselves.”

“You would be more of a hindrance than help,” Alastor says, and ooph, that one hurt.

“You don’t even know how to defend yourself,” he continues.

“I’ve been doing my best,” you say.

“And that is not good enough, darling.”

Your chest falls and rises. “So you think I have nothing to offer to protect my friends and this hotel?”

Alastor pauses for a moment. “No. I know for a fact that you do.”

“Then what?” you ask. “Why do you want me to leave?”

Again, a few moments pass in silence before Alastor sits beside you. “You would trade something very precious to save this hotel and all of the fools who reside in it.”

”What? What is it? What am I going to give up that’s so special?”

“Your life,” he says. “If you are here, you will sacrifice your life in a trice just as soon as you see someone else is in danger. And I cannot have that. You will leave, this is not a request.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No. This is my home. This is where I work. This is my family—“

“You will listen to me now and you will listen good,” he says gravely. “I can protect this hotel and kill Adam or I can protect you. Those are the choices. I trust you will not make the selfish one.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep breath. You feel a cry coming on, but head it off at the pass. “What about you?”

“What about me, darling?” Alastor asks. “There is no way for you to help me. You know that.”

“I’m going to look like a coward,” you say.

“I do not care,” he says. “And you shouldn’t either. My priorities are to kill Adam and to protect you. Therefore, you will leave to someplace safe and you will wait for me to come for you.”

You scoff. “Where’s safe? Where’s safe during an Extermination?”

“They are coming to the hotel first and we will not allow them to go any further. You will be safe where I send you and you will stay there.”

Then he does something he’s never done before. Alastor pulls you into his embrace. “You have no idea what I would do to save you. No idea, you stupid, silly girl. You must go. You must.”

“Okay, okay,” you say finally.

“I could give or take almost anyone else in this boring little hovel of a hotel, but I can’t give you. I won’t. It’s very likely this radio tower will need some manner of repair. Who else would do it but you?” He holds you a little tighter.

You close your eyes and lean against him. “I really don’t want to leave you.”

“Because you are an idiot.”

At that, you start hitting him anywhere you can, but the two of you dissolve into laughter.

Eventually, you sigh. “When am I leaving?”

Alastor hums. “Tonight.”

“What?” you look at him again. “Why tonight?”

“I will have time to prepare. I won’t spend days worrying about getting you to leave. It is better that I have this time to focus,” he says. “I will take care of everything. Think of it as more of a vacation than anything else.”

“I won’t, but thank you,” you say. “What will you tell everyone?”

Alastor tilts his head. “About what?”

“About forcing me to leave the hotel because I’m apparently too weak and stupid to fight for it,” you say.

He tsks and shakes his head. “I do not care. Neither should you. But I suppose I will just tell them approximately one-quarter of the truth.”

“Which is what?” you ask.

“That I put my foot down and wouldn’t allow you to die for any of them.” Alastor rubs his face against yours. A confusing gesture, but not altogether out of place, given the tenor of the rest of the interaction.

“I don’t want to die, but—“

“But nothing,” he says. He gives you his staff. “Play one last song.”

You wince. “Okay, grim. No. I’m not playing a ‘last song’.”

He huffs. “The last song until next week, when all of this is over.”

“When all of this is over…” You lean back in your seat, tapping the staff as you think. “Can you…can we hop on the broadcast? For a while? Make it my last proper show until all of this is over?”

You swallow, your throat feeling tight.

“No, darling,” he says. “Not this time. Pick a good song.”

‘Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!’

Alastor stares at you strangely throughout the entire song. He never once tries to take the staff away from you, not even during the repeated profanity—something that was forbidden. He says nothing of it when the song is done and he takes his staff back into his possession.

“Come.” He holds his arm out for you and you take it. You let him lead you out of the radio tower and you become unsettled as you descend the steps.

“Alastor, I don’t like this,” you say nervously.

“And neither do I,” he says as he guides you to your hotel room.

“Where are you sending me?”

He suddenly stops you once you’re inside the room, his clawed hand coming down to grip your shoulder. Hard.

“Alastor,” you chastise.

His grip only tightens. “I made a bargain for this and you will not piss it away.”

The night crashes down on you in the quiet of your bedroom.

“But where? You made a deal?”

“No, not a deal. More of a…trade which does not benefit me at all, save for it keeping you safe.”

“Alastor, where?” you ask, softly yet firmly.

“In an underground bunker beneath Rosie’s Emporium,” Alastor says finally. “No one would ever think to look there, not with all of Cannibal Town at the hotel, stupidly giving their own lives. Those lives mean nothing to me, nothing at all, but yours is something precious.”

“I’m just your engineer, you know.”

Alastor huffs. “No, you’re not.”

You lift a brow. “I’m not?”

“No.” He pauses. “You also make sandwiches.”

With a little laugh, you nod. “Pastrami.”

“Indeed. Pastrami. Now, pack up, darling. I’ll escort you to Cannibal Town. No, no one will try to eat you. You’ll be with my dearest friend, Rosie. You will be safe with her. If I had any doubts I would send you elsewhere.”

“Okay,” you say softly. “It’s going to be boring without you.”

“I, on the other hand, will finally know peace after six months.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”

You laugh far too hard for it to be so late at night, but Alastor is smiling genuinely.

For a tenth of a second something changes. The way you look at each other…

“So,” he says, sitting at the foot of your bed, one ankle over his knee. “Have you been abiding by our agreement?”

You pull a suitcase from underneath the bed. “Which one? There are new ‘agreements’ every day.”

“Intercourse with Lucifer,” he says flatly.

“Oh Alastor, come on. What if he and I were in love?”

He just glares at you, darkness in his eyes.

“I haven’t seen the man in weeks!”

“Aha!” He points at you. “You would do it if given the chance, wouldn’t you?”

You tilt your head. “Why do you care so much, Al?”

“Because I want to separate him from all possible joy,” he says. “There’s no chance of doing that with Charlie, but I will deny him you.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“Shut up and pack.”

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”

Alastor picks up one of your pillows and throws it at you.

The extended visit with Rosie would be nice if every moment didn’t bring you anxiety so crippling that it cramped your stomach. She was kind, a gracious hostess, and she didn’t ask any prying questions, so neither did you. You were curious about the ‘trade’ Alastor had made for you—for you…

You leave every day for food, because you just cannot trust the provenance of anything in Cannibal Town, no matter how kind Rosie is. You listen to Alastor’s sporadic broadcasts and feel vindicated in how shitty it is without you. Gives you a smile. It sustains you to know that this man still needs you.

On your third day of going out for burritos, you receive a text message that makes you grin, fills you with joy you haven’t felt since you were yeeted from the hotel.

‘New ducks, want to see?’

The second you text back yes, a glowing portal opens and a hand yanks you inside.

“Lucifer!” you cry out happily, hugging him close.

He returns the embrace readily, arms tight around you. “I’m so glad you agreed! Here, let me show you the duck workshop.”

You smile and let him guide you. You and Lucifer just..mesh. It’s always been easier to talk to him than virtually anyone else. For as much as you listen to him about ducks, he listens to you about radio, as long as you don’t mention Alastor. That’s always been an unspoken understanding.

Lucifer rambles happily all the way to the workshop and you happily listen. Once inside, he gives you a little tour. The place is quite literally filled with rubber ducks of all different kinds—there was even a set of KISS ducks.

“This is my latest work,” Lucifer says, showing you a row of little ducks. He picks up one. “This one has wings just like mine! Well, you can’t currently see my wings, but that’s what they look like. There’s six, they’re red, that’s…pretty much it…”

He sounds strangely nervous.

“And this one’s Charlie…”

Yes, nervous.

“Maggie,” he says.

“Actually, her name is Vaggie,” you correct him.

“Oh, golly!” He covers his eyes with his hands, his face turning red. “I’ve been calling her Maggie every time and Charlie never corrected me.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine. Don’t worry about that.”

He peeks at you from between his fingers. “You really think it’s okay?”

“Charlie probably just felt too awkward to correct you. You know how she is.”

“I hope so,” Lucifer says. “This one is the porn star. He shoots webs!”

You laugh when he demonstrates. “That’s so cool!”

“And this one,” he picks up one of the ducks gingerly, “this one is you!”

You gasp at the attention to detail and laugh joyfully. “That’s so cute, a little me!”

“She has a little radio and everything. And—“ Lucifer presses a button on the underside of the duck and the radio starts to play from its mouth. He looks at you with a wide grin and elbows you gently a few times. “Ah? Ah?”

You laugh again and clap. “Bravo, you outdid yourself. I never thought you would outdo the back-flipping rubber ducky that spits fire.”

“I surprise myself all the time,” Lucifer says happily, placing your duck back down beside his. “Do you have time for a drink?”

You laugh. “Honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Good!” He takes your hand and guides you out of the workshop and through the halls until you arrive at a lavish lounge. He gestures for you to take a seat. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh, whatever you’re having, please.”

Lucifer pours two whiskeys and sits in the chair across from yours beside a fire that emits a cool breeze.

“Thank you so much,” you say when he hands yours to you.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “Charlie told me…you left the hotel.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I did. I’ve been staying in Cannibal Town.”

“Why did you go?” he asks softly.

Now you sigh, hoping to keep all emotion from your voice. “Alastor thinks I’m more of a hindrance than a help and wants me to stay away.”

His diamond pupils constrict. “What an asshole.”

“He needs me to help repair the radio tower, when all is said and done.”

“You’re too good for this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

Lucifer takes a drink. “I mean you’re too good to work on a show that’s just screams and crappy puns. That guy is a clown. You should host your own show.”

“Oh, I haven’t been on air in like…fourteen years. I don’t even know what I would talk about or play. I like being an engineer. It’s cathartic to me. Alastor might not have the most exciting show around, and he’s absolutely horrible, but it’s…hm, I’ve made it sound really bad, haven’t I?”

“Why do you give that guy your loyalty? Why do you feel so beholden to him?” he asks.

Your focus softens. “I…we have a good time together. I think. He likes the sandwiches that I make him.”

“I can almost guarantee that this loyalty means nothing to him,” Lucifer says. “I’m not saying that to hurt you.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know Luci.”

“Why do you stay, then? Is he paying you?”

“Actually yeah, in a way he does.”

Lucifer cocks a brow and motions for you to continue.

“Oh, he just gives me things, not money. He doesn’t, uh, properly believe that hell should have a currency system. In his opinion it should all be bartering, like soul deals. Therefore, he barters with me. I give him sandwiches and briskets and engineering services, he gives me…just about anything. Last week he gave me a ruby necklace that must be worth a few thousand dollars.”

“You give him briskets?”

You nod. “Oh yeah, there’s always some brisket action going on. He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s a venison brisket in the works.”

“So you work together, you make him food, he gives you expensive jewellery?”

“Other things too, but yes.” You nod again. “That’s the gist. We have a good back-and-forth, but my favourite is getting to play music at the end of his broadcasts.”

Lucifer smiles softly at you. “Those are the only parts worth tuning in for.”

Your face lights up., a big grin and bright eyes. “You’ve heard?”

He nods. “Yeah. I try to catch it. The last one said fuck a lot.”

You laugh, head back against the chair. “Yeah, it did.”

“I’ll give you a radio station of your own. Be his competition,” he said.

Now you sigh. “I actually do like to work with him a lot. He’s…he’s not all bad. He’s always done right by me.”

Lucifer scoffs. “That won’t last. You can’t seriously rely on that to stay stable. Just as soon as he decides he doesn’t need you, he’ll get rid of you. Somehow or another. He’s just…one of the worst sorts of sinners, and he’s proud to be the way that he is. And you? You’re hardly like a sinner at all. I always seem to forget it.”

It’s hard to hear those things about Alastor, even harder because you know they’re probably in some way true.

You’re lost in thought until you hear him repeating your name. “Oh! So sorry, million miles away.”

“Let me get you another drink. Do you want something other than whiskey, maybe?” he asks, sounding somewhat insecure, a little tremor in his voice. “W-what do you normally take?”

You play with a rubber duck on the table and hope it doesn’t spit fire at you. “Dirty martini, two olives. Sounds weird, giving the king of hell a drink order.”

“Nonsense!” Lucifer comes over with a little drink tray, all cheerful. Sweet. He looks so happy that it warms you.

“I should see you more,” you say. “You’re fun to be around and I love ducks.”

He gives a nervous laugh and sits down, passes your drink to you. “You should definitely see me more! Gosh, that would be terrific. I can make you so many ducks!”

“What are you going to work on next?” you ask.

He winks. “I’ll keep you apprised.”

You wink back, smiling. “I’ll be waiting.”

God, there was nothing you wouldn’t give to be on air with Alastor right now. It hits you, causes a slight tremor in your body.

Lucifer gasps. “Are you okay? Is it the drink? I don’t actually know what a dirty martini is so I…May have poisoned you?”

“No! No!” You laugh and shake your head. “No, the drink is fine. To make a martini dirty you just put a bit of olive brine in.”

“Let me try again,” he says, but you stand and stop him.

“Luci, no, really, it’s okay,” you say. “Promise. See?” You drain the contents of the wine glass he had served the ‘martini’ in. Your lower eyelid gives you away, though.

“Oh God,” Lucifer says, hand covering his eyes.

You pull it away gently. “It’s okay, Luci.”

You stay that way, eyes on each other, for a moment that stretches indefinitely.

By the end of it, Lucifer kisses you. Hesitant, gentle. His hand reaches the back of your neck and by now you’re kissing back. Things are happening quickly. Somehow you wind up on one of the couches together, your back to the cushion, him on top of you…

Oh, no.

You break the kiss and sit up. “Sorry. Sorry, Luci. Sorry.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks in rushed voice, a slight shake to it.

“No.” You rub your eyes and smack your forehead.

All you could think of was Alastor. The little promise you made in exchange for Husk’s life. You doubted that he would actually kill Husk if he found out…but you couldn’t handle how…he would react.

“Lucifer, I…” But you couldn’t tell him that Alastor was the one keeping him from getting laid.

“I don’t understand,” Lucifer says. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “I can’t help but notice you’re still wearing your ring.”

“Oh, is that why…? Oh, no, sweetheart, no, I just…Lilith isn’t going to come back to me. I can take it off, it’s just hard to when it’s been…such a long time, being married. I can take it off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

You squeeze his hand again, gently. “It’s time for me to leave.”

“Oh…Okay,” he says softly. “Yes, of course. You don’t have to stay, just…I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

You smile at him, trying your best to instill confidence. “You’ll see me again. Show me to the door?”

“No, absolutely not,” he says. “It’s dangerous! I’ll take you back to Cannibal Town. That’s also…pretty dangerous, you know.”

“Not for me.” That you can say with confidence of your own.

“Come on.” Lucifer reaches for your hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do it again. Just take my hand and I’ll bring you back. You don’t even know where you are right now.”

Well, he’s got you beat there. You squeeze his hand one more time. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You close your eyes for this part.

When you hear a whispered goodbye, you open your eyes and you’re standing before the Cannibal Town gates, alone.

“Do you think that you walk freely all throughout hell, not a care in the world, for no reason?”

Your whole body tightens at the sound of his voice. “Have you just been standing there waiting for me to show up?”

“Not quite,” Alastor says. “Answer my question.”

You sigh, eyes rolling hard. “I’m sure it’s because of you.”

“Correct! So you’re at least that smart.”

You trudge out a path set to finally get you the illusive burrito. “Alastor, I’m not in the mood. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and my absence is definitely noticed at the hotel.”

He appears in front of you. “And how do you know that? Who told you, hm?”

You sigh. “You know who I was with?”

Alastor’s claws grab your arm and then you’re in the radio tower. It nearly knocks the breath out of you and you collide with one of the panels.

“God!” You wince as your knee crashes against a sharp corner. “Hey asshole, I thought I wasn’t allowed to be here! I am so sick of being yanked around today! All I wanted—“

“I ask so little of you,” he interrupts.

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious? You? Ask me? For little?”

“The only commitment I have ever asked of you is not to have sex with that fucking man!”

“And I didn’t!” you shout before pulling out your phone. “Here, see? He just wanted to show me new rubber ducks that he made. And you know what? Mine was adorable, and she played radio when you pressed her button.”

“Am I supposed to understand this innuendo?” he asks, his voice rising.

“I didn’t sleep with him, Alastor! I don’t know what else you want me to say! I almost did, I would have, and it’s all your fucking fault that I didn’t. Someone expressed interest in me and I couldn’t act on it because I made some fake pact with you over it. I should have, God knows I need it.”

“Oh do you?” Alastor steps closer, but you don’t back down.

“Yes!” you yell. “Yes I do, but the only fucking thing I ever do is go on the goddamn radio with you!”

“Such a horrible fate!”

You cover your face with curling fingers. “Take me back to Rosie’s. Take me back to Rosie’s, Alastor. You don’t want me here, remember?”

“Of course I want you here, you fucking imbecile!”

Your anger ebbs slightly. “You do?”

“Yes! I want all of the things you do and I want them all the time! I tried to make my own sandwiches and everything! I was self-sufficient before you, you know. I never needed anyone for anything, then you walked into this hotel and insisted your way into my life, wrecking it up as you went!” Alastor takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself, trying to calm himself. “So now that I need you and go to great pains to keep you safe, you tell me that you want to sleep with that little blond gremlin?”

“How were the sandwiches?”

“Dry and uninteresting!” Alastor grabs you by your arms. “God damn you!”

“What? What?” you yell. “What do you want, Alastor? As far as I can tell, you got me out of the hotel, out of your way, right where you wanted me to be. I was going out for a fucking burrito because I can’t trust the food in Cannibal Town!”

“I advised Rosie very carefully about your dietary preferences,” he says.

“Well, hell, thanks,” you say in a much quieter tone. After a moment, you go sit in your usual spot. “Why did you bring me here, Alastor? My name must be mud around here.”

“No, it isn’t.” Alastor sits across from you. “They just blame me, and that is fine.”

“I really think you two should put all this behind you,” you say.

“The two of us? We won’t be putting anything behind us, darling.”

“Actually!” You point at him. “I was talking about you and him. The guy you call a circus freak, a blond gremlin.”

“Ha! No. Try again, dearest.”

You just roll your eyes and rub your temples. “I’m seriously so hungry and so tired. What do you want to hear?”

“I—.” Alastor cuts himself off. “You. And I…it’s your fault, all of this is your fault!”

“Okay! Fine! It’s my fault. Now what do you want to do?” you ask.

Alastor jerks you up from your seat and kisses you, hard. You feel his fingertips fan over the tops of your shoulders, drumming once before holding tight.

It’s so absolutely stunning that it takes a moment to respond at all, but that doesn’t seem to slow him down. Your heart beats so hard in your chest that you can almost hear it, and, oh, damn, this is what had been missing, fulfilling a craving that you had never known. This was what blood was for, what hands were for, why breath existed.

His hands move lower down your body as the quick seconds pass like butterflies all down your skin and to your bones.

You pull away just to catch a breath and his whole body tenses.

“What?” you ask, panting.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, Al, not even a little bit. Just couldn’t breathe, blood’s all rushing.”

Alastor’s fingertips trail deliciously above your belly. “Do you know what I want?”

You swallow, lips pressing together. “Tell me.”

His thumb traces down your throat now. “I want to possess you so completely that you forget all but my name.”

His lips follow the path of his hands, surprisingly soft and warm against your neck. “Everything about you was made for me. Everything. I am never letting you go, do you understand me?” His tone was gravely serious, but with an undercurrent of…love. Yes, it was love, yearning and…maybe a bit of uncertainty. He could not hide that, not from you.

“Let’s go to my room,” you say quietly when he pulls away, and in an instant you’re there. Everything looks the same, thankfully. You go to the bed and sit at the foot of it, leaning back on your elbows.

Alastor comes and stands before you, just looking down, watching. When he finally moves, it’s to put both hands underneath your shirt and push it up, every bit of skin revealed covered in goosebumps. He slowly pushes the shirt up and up until your arms lift and it comes over your head.

“Why are you choosing to do this now?” you ask as he works on your bra.

“Because you said that you needed it and I take your needs very seriously,” he responds.

“Whoa.” You grab at my hands. “No, it’s not just me, you have to be into it too.”

Alastor laughs suddenly. “How about I show you how ‘into it’ I am? Kind of you to make certain, darling.”

“I don’t ever want to make you feel like you have to, because you’re…”

He plays with one of your exposed breasts thoughtfully. “You are kind for that, too. Perfect, really. Darling, I do whatever feels good, in all things that I do. This is good, I have simply never felt that way before you and your goddamn radio expertise and your fucking sandwiches and, oh, the briskets.”

Alastor sighs and moves on to the other one. “I have never wanted this before, and that is meaningful to me. It isn’t all I want, but I want you in all other ways so much that it makes me crave you. My hands on your body, your hands on mine. I’ve waited long enough to know that I am certain. Are you?”

“You are a discovery,” you say. “You unlocked things I didn’t realise were there. I want you badly.”

“It’s not just what the spider calls ‘general horniness’?”

You pull him down and kiss him several times before responding. “No, it isn’t. If it wasn’t specific to you, I could just as well bedded Luci. I had every opportunity earlier tonight. But I was always going to turn him down. I did so because I thought of how disappointed and angry you would have been.”

“You’re goddamn right I would have been,” he says as he climbs over you. “So perfect, just for me…”

You like the weight of him on top of you. He’s careful not to squish you, but it feels so warm and solid. There’s a shiver up your spine as he touches you, as this coat and shirt brush against your breasts. You go to card your fingers through his hair and accidentally brush against the base of one of his ears and you can see the physical reaction, the little tremors of pleasure, the moan of an ecstasy promised.

“Okay?” you ask gently, doing it again.

Alastor nods quickly. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

You played with his ear while his tongue, lips, and teeth made their way across your throat and neck. The higher you went, the more aggressive he got, leaving little nips and bites everywhere.

You push him when you decide more clothes have to come off—his in particular. He looks confused for a half-second before you’re carefully removing his coat. You place it carefully on a chair near the bed, but almost rip the shirt off of him.

He gives a little huff of laughter. “Eager, are we darling?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you say, hauling him in to kiss him again.

You love the feeling of your bare chests pressed together. Alastor’s breathing starts to come more quickly than before.

It’s you going after his neck, this time. You can hear something strangled in his throat, the vibrations of it against your lips. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“Forgive me, darling. I am new to this.”

“Is it the very first time?”

He hums. “Technically no. Once, when I was a teenager, a very long time ago. I barely remember it at all, but I know it was nothing like this.”

You smile against his neck and nuzzle softly. “Doesn’t matter, you’ll know what to do.”

“I have every confidence in us both. We know each other on a professional and emotional level of intimacy, I doubt physical intimacy will be the thing that does us in.”

“It may be a bit early days, but I hope nothing ever does,” you say.

He cradles the back of your head to keep your lips close to his neck. He huffs. “Early days, my ass. If I was not sure about you I would not have started anything. If any part of you is unsure, I will make it sure. I promise that I won’t be a regret.”

You kiss your way down the side of his neck. “Lucifer would have been a regret. You will not be.”

He huffs. “As gratifying as that is to hear, please do not mention the circus freak during physical intimacy ever again. Or ever again in general, if possible.”

You laugh softly and hold him close. “I’ll never mention him in this context ever again, I promise.”

“I am much obliged, my love.” Alastor tugs at the jeans you’re wearing, but, having no experience with such garments, he doesn’t seem to realise they have to be unzipped first.

You reach between your bodies to help him out.

“Such complicated garments,” he says beneath his breath.

“No more complicated than yours! Your trousers unzip too, don’t they?” you ask.

“It is called a double standard, darling, and as per usual, unfortunately for you, it works out in my favour.” Alastor gets you down to your underwear and plays with the elastic waistband. “I would like to make something abundantly clear to you, darling. I will give you this one last chance.”

“For what?” you ask, kissing down his neck, the tip of his ear between your fingers. You feel it twitch.

“No, no, stop that for a moment, darling,” he says, so you do. When you’ve stopped and he’s got you looking at him again, he continues. “For just a moment, while you listen to this. I am telling you right now that you are reaching the point of no return. Once I have taken you, you will belong to me for eternity. That is not a hyperbole, it is reality. I will never allow you to leave me. Along with that promise, I promise to keep you safe, always, just as I am now, even if it means temporarily being away from me. I promise to love you. I promise you will want for nothing; everything that is in my power to give you, which is exhaustive and far-reaching, any little want or need you have, I will give it to you.”

You smile at him. “I don’t have as much to offer, but I’ll be the best damn radio engineer, the best damn brisket-maker, the best damn friend, and the best damn…”

“Mate,” he supplies.

“The best damn mate, I’ll be that,” you promise.

“You accept?” Alastor asks, and when you nod, he kisses you hard. “You are perfect. So good. And you understand? Completely? You have no doubts? Because there will be no other appropriate time to feel them. This is a permanent arrangement that you should not take lightly.”

“Trying to talk me out of it?”

“Trying not to be a regret,” he says, and it makes your expression warm.

“You aren’t and you won’t be,” you promise. “You were the answer to all the questions I didn’t know I was asking of myself from the moment I met you. I didn’t know, but it was always there, and now, like…I don’t know how to describe it. There’s not a lot of blood flowing to my brain, you know.”

He chuckles once and nods. “Then I will not ask you again. It is settled now, is it?”

“It is.”

“Good.” Alastor hooks his thumb into the elastic of your underwear indelicately and pulls them down and off your body.

You don’t even know how many naked people Alastor has seen. It’s possible he hasn’t seen another person naked since the first time with someone, so many years ago. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, though.

“Well, now that the matter is settled.” Alastor lifts you up and places your head on a pillow. “There is something I have wanted to do since I met you. It was a strange craving, something that should have warned me of what was to come.”

“What’s the strange craving?” you ask, but rather than answer verbally he rolls his tongue between your leg, right against your clit, and you moan rather loudly with surprise.

Alastor laughs quietly to himself. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”

“Ohhhh God,” was all you could manage.

He licks your clit again before his tongue dips inside you, and when it does, Alastor elongates it—this shocks you, causes a gasp and a full-body shiver. You never thought such a thing was possible, and it’s certainly…a new experience. He rubs at your clit with his thumb while his tongue works inside you. He keeps your legs apart with his broad shoulders, tongue massaging against your walls until he reaches a spot that makes you scream. He laughs softly against your flesh and you’re panting now.

“Alastor…” Your legs tense up around him, muscles straining. He’s moaning against you as he works your body like he owns it, and maybe he does now. Your thighs tense around him and you…you’re getting louder.

“Is there something you can do about the noise?” you ask, even though you hate stopping him.

He keeps rubbing your clit while he speaks. “I can. But I will not. Louder.”

Alastor goes right back to it, his tongue working you hard, and he forces you to get louder just from the way his tongue moves against your walls.

“Oh, fuck…Oh, Al, don’t stop, please don’t stop…yeah…yeah, like that, like that…” Your breath comes in harder and harder, faster and faster, until you’re screaming, until your thighs are aching, until your pussy is so overstimulated that he pulls back with an enormous grin on his face.

He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, but mercifully only briefly. “Tell me when I can take you.”

“Just a moment,” you pant. “Not a long wait, just a few minutes.”

“Very good,” Alastor says. “I’ll take other pleasure from other parts of your body in the meantime then, darling.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You do that, Al. Fucking hell.”

His tongue swirls along your nipple. “Yes darling?”

“You really took that one from the soul,” you say with a soft, shaky laugh. You nudge his shoulder. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“You’re sure?”

You nod a few times. “Yeah, yeah. Ready to go.”

You press your back down against the blankets, your head flat against the pillow. Alastor kneels between your knees and shoves them far apart, making plenty of room for himself. You’re silently grateful that he still seems to know exactly what to do—you’d gladly teach him if you had to, but it was so much better this way. He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock from your clit and down, watches your muscles involuntarily jump slightly, a wide smirk on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his shadow cast upon the wall, the elongated horns, that starving grin.

“I see you’ve noticed him,” Alastor says, entering you all at once. “Keep your eyes on me, dear. Pay him no mind.”

“You consider him separate from you?” you ask, your body adjusting to the size of him easily.

Alastor, however, does not seem to be having such an easy go of things. There is a look of concentration on his face, his lip between his teeth. It takes a moment for him to reply. “I consider him an echo of me. I’ll warn you now, I do not know how conversational I will be from this point on.”

“All the same,” you wink at him. “It’s not your conversation I’m after at the moment.”

It takes almost no time at all to get loud for him again, but this time it wasn’t just you being pleasured. This was a new world for Alastor and he was lost in it, captive to it. His hands grip at your hips as he fucks you harder and harder, the mattress shaking beneath you. Soon the headboard smacks against the wall and you thank God there’s no one on the other side.

“Al!” You hook one knee around his waist. “Al, please, deeper.”

He grabs your other knee and pulls it around him so he can get a better angle. He moves to whisper in your ear. “You feel so soft inside, like velvet. So warm, so hot…like that little pop of heat when you stand with your back to a fireplace…”

You moan loudly, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter around him, the sound slick and obscene. You can hear him curse, how his hips snap faster and faster until he finally spills his seed in you, fucking you through it.

Alastor’s damp forehead connects with your shoulder and you can feel his breath coming harsh against it. His hands soften their hard grip on your thighs and fall away, moving up to your waist, your ribs, one thumb against your nipple.

You play with his hair, with one of his ears, but it doesn’t seem to rile him up again, which was good, because you didn’t want to be told to stop. You turn your head against his and kiss his hair.

“Okay?” you ask after a while.

Upon hearing your voice, he lifts his head and then himself off of you. He crashes on his back beside you, his arm coming up around you, pulling you to him.

“I am so…so grateful that it was you,” he says. “I am grateful to have you. Forever. You and I will create a home next week, here at the hotel. It is well within my power to do. It can be any way you like. You should jot down ideas while you’re at Rosie’s.”

You groan. “I have to go back to Rosie’s, don’t I?”

“Yes, my lovely,” he says. “You will still reside at Rosie’s for the duration of this week until the Extermination is through and we are free to do as we please. We do not have to go straight back into radio. Maybe…we take some time to ourselves. It will be well-earned.”

“You’re going to need a break in general,” you say, pushing sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes. “You’re doing so much for all of us. I can’t believe you’re going to kill Adam.”

“Believe it, my love,” he says softly. “Believe me. This is our future.”

“I do believe you. I trust you,” you say. “And I’m sorry for being so bratty about being sent away. I am effectively useless in any type of fight scenario. I would hold everyone back.”

“You would sacrifice yourself too easily. I never said those things to hurt you, I said them because I feared what would happen to you.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor smut #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagines

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biteyoubiteme · 2 days ago

Text

I'll be quick

huening kai x fem!reader

synopsis: dress shopping with your boyfriend.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight exhibitionism, chubby reader implied, no protection, creampie mention, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.9k

an: thank you so much for requesting hp! im so nervous for you to read this lol I hope you like it if you don’t just put me down nicely :)) <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

“How about this one?” you ask, smoothing your hands down the front of the silk dress you wore. It was the kind of material that should not be worn with this type of underwear; your pantie line clearly visible. Your hands went sliding down over your ass as if that would make the buckled fabric disappear. “Ignore the fact I'm wearing the wrong panties,”

You give a slow spin in the fluorescent lights, the semicircle of mirrors reflecting every angle of your dress-clad figure at you. But all you can see is the damned line from your underwear. “Actually don't answer that, I hate it,”

“I love it,” Kai speaks up from his spot opposite the mirrors. He's leaning back with your purse in his lap, eyes tracing up and down your body as he watches the way the material clings to you. He can imagine the way it would feel under his fingers, sliding over the expanse of your thighs.

“You always say that,” you mutter, turning your cheek to look at the dress from the back. You can see Huening watching, eyes tacked right to the outline of your underwear. “Kai,”

“What?” he blinks up at you like he was caught. Cheeks flushed as he pulled your bag closer to his lap.

“Is it that bad?” It was late in the day, and your usual trip to the mall was fun. Both of you could spend hours going from shop to shop, no need to buy anything but to spend time together looking at all the new things in store. It was one of your favorite things to do.

Kai would follow you around like a little puppy, letting you pick out things for him to try on. Pulling him into dressing rooms so that he could get something new to wear. Spending too much time at the sunglasses wrack, spinning the display around and around, trying on each pair, first on you then on him, giggling over the silly reflective wraparound pairs. He loved when you picked out the different things for him to put on, especially jeans, your hands sliding into the back pockets to check their depth was always his favorite part.

You had your favorite spots at the food court, always picking the same little table every time you sat down, knees bumping as you picked over each other's meals. Kai would carry your drink while you tried on shoes, hold your bag when you tried on clothes. And most of the time having him along with you made shopping less overstimulating, you could have fun without rushing to just get the shopping over with.

Only now that you needed a dress for an event it felt like everything was crashing down at that very moment. Nothing felt right, every dress you tried on made it feel like you wouldn't find the one. The lights now make everything look too oversaturated, the dressing room is now cold enough to make goosebumps rise along your arms, and now the stupid panty line.

You didn't even know why you were so focused on finding the right outfit, it was a last minute decision to even go to the little dinner your friends were hosting. you didn't need something new but you wanted something new.

“Just take them off,” Kai suggests, sweet face glowing in the lights, every little mole dotting his skin easily seen.

The fitting rooms were in the back of the store, the long hallway sectioned off with several doors before ending right at the little platform with the mirrors you stood now. Although a few people milled around in the shop just past the corner no one was in the other changing rooms. He was suggesting an easy fix to the only problem you were having with the dress and so you took it. Even though the door to the room where you kept all your other clothes was open and waiting for you to go back inside, you just bent right there hands going up under your dress and hooking in the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down and off without lifting the dress to expose yourself.

Kai feels all the blood rush to his face, the prickling heat slinking through his bones. It was enough to already be thinking about undressing you, but now seeing you do most of the work for him, at his suggestion, was taking him out. You tossed the fabric into the dressing room, aiming for your pile of clothes but missing, the corner of the fabric still seen from where Kai's sitting.

“That's so much better,” you're back to sliding your hands down the silky fabric, flattening out any bumps to make sure it's lying right. You love the way it hugs your thighs, outlines the shape of your hips, the curves of your stomach, and lays against the swell of your chest. “Okay now just imagine it without a bra, I'll have to find something without straps,”

“It's uh- it's really nice,” you look over at him in his hesitation to find that he wasn't saying it just to appease you but was finding it hard to swallow back what he really wanted to say. He was doing exactly what you asked, picturing you naked under all that silk, he could see it falling to the floor, how easy it would be to slip right off of you. He pushed your purse closer to his growing bulge, cheeks flushing deeper when you asked, “Huening, are you blushing?”

He loved it when you used that slightly teasing tone on him, it was as if your fingers were brushing up his neck with each word. “I think that's the one,” he was avoiding directly drawing attention to your question, not needing to think about exactly why he’s red so that he can try and wish away his erection before you guys walk out of here.

“Okay, perfect. I don't think I want to even try on anymore ,anyways,” you step down from the little platform, “oh, do you think we could stop at the little candy store on the corner and get the gummies we shared last time?”

“Umhum,” he gives his usual hum in response as you close the door behind you.

It's only then that you realize that you can't undo the zipper by yourself, he had helped you do up the back with no problem and there was no way for you to reach up to grab the zipper on your own. “Kai? Could you help me take this off?”

It's the last thing he should be doing, he knows it as soon as he's in the dressing room with you, hand placed on your hip as he steadies you. You're just as soft as he expected, his free hand not even making it to the zipper. You watch him in the mirror in front of you, his eyes following his fingers as they make their way down gripping the outside of your thighs.“God, I love your body,” he groans, his head falling to your shoulder, lips dusting over your shoulder when you finally feel how hard he is. “You really like the dress huh?”

“No I just love you and need you, please I'll be quick,” he whines right at the back of your ear.

“Anyone could hear-”

“I'll be quiet, I promise, please,” and your slight nod is all he needs to push up the back of your dress, his hand pushing between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your fold, swirling over your clit to build up your arousal. You fall forward, hands bracing yourself on the mirror, kai readjusts so that one hand is splayed across your tummy, silk spilling through his fingers.

He’s quick to free himself from his jeans, pushing them down just enough so that he can line himself up with you, dragging his tip through your folds, catching at your entrance. You know yourself well enough to cover your mouth when he pushes in, the overwhelming stretch of him always making you whine. He's no better, his pretty face reflecting at you as his mouth opens in a silent moan when he fully seats himself inside you. His head falls into your shoulder so that he can muffle any sound that wants to escape, your back arching as his hold on your plushie hip tightens, fingers digging into the soft skin of your tummy.

Kais intoxicatingly deep inside you, his first thrust pulls a throaty whimper for you that you can't hold back. “This was a bad idea-” you try to whisper, cutting yourself off by clamping your hand back on your mouth when he slams his hips against your ass. His breath fanning over your ear when he whispers, “You feel fucking amazing,” his trapped whimpers rumbling his chest, all the vibrations pressed to your back. He peeks in the mirror, biting his lip when he watches the way your tits bounce, hanging perfectly in view for him, “fuck- look at you,”

His cock slides so effortlessly in and out of your needy cunt, warm fluttering walls drawing him in until he's forgetting he needs to be silent, that he shouldn't be pounding this hard, changing his orgasm so intensely that someone might hear him.

It's the soft clapping of skin that reminds you where you are, “slow down kai- we could- we could-,” but it's then that he uses the hand on your hip to slide under the bunched fabric of your dress, to draw circles on your clit. It was an instant shock that had your knees shaking.

“Who cares,” he's muttering, head shaking as he picks up his pace, “If anyone saw you dressed like this they would want to be right where I am, fuck, but they could never fuck you like I can, never,” his last word caught on the end of a whimper drawn out and pulled from him as he came.

It's the look on his face, brows tightening, eyes squeezing shut as he falls apart, mixed with his steady pressure on your clit that has you tumbling over the edge after him. Your whole body flexes as he pulls you in tight to him, hand leaving your stomach to clamp over your mouth.

Both of you are struggling to catch your breath in the now stuffy room, mirror fogged up from your hands, skin once chilled now inflamed with your post-sex afterglow. His cock still jerked even when he pulled out of you, his hand moving to try and stop the spill of your combined release. Your thighs try to close around the feeling of him brushing your sensitive clit while he leans down to pick up your discarded underwear, using them to clean you up.

He peppers kisses all along your cheeks bunching up the soiled fabric in his hand before unzipping your dress. “I really do love this dress on you,”

“Oh really? I couldn't tell,” you giggle, and he helps you get dressed, carrying your bags out after you, panties shoved into his back pocket.

When you leave the store you wrap an arm around his center, going underneath his jacket to feel all his warmth. He slinks his arms around your shoulder, tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Didn't I hear you say something about getting gummies?”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you to @thetxtdevil @hmusunoo @hyukascampfire and @prince-jjae for proofreading/beta reading this for me ily all sm okay my little sweet baby angels I hope you get everything youve ever wanted in life and more

#cams!1kevent #cam!answersasks #huening kai x reader #hueningkai x reader #huening kai smut #huening kai hard hours #txt huening kai smut #txt x reader #txt smut #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun

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mapiforpresident · 3 days ago

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hi there could i please request promt 16 with leah williamson

First Fight

Leah x reader

~~~

You had been dating Leah Williamson for about six months now. It had been everything you had imagined—fun, easy, and full of laughter. Both of you were incredibly busy with Arsenal’s season, training schedules, and matches, but you always made time for each other. You’d spend evenings together, whether it was after a tough match, over dinner, or simply lying in bed talking about everything and nothing.

But today... today was different.

It started as something small—a misunderstanding. The kind of thing that could’ve been resolved with a quick conversation. But somewhere along the way, things escalated. Tensions flared, words were exchanged, and before you knew it, you were both storming out of the room, frustrated and hurt. You hated fighting. You had never fought with Leah before. You had always been on the same page, whether it was on the field or in life, but today was different.

You were sitting on your couch now, alone in your apartment, your head buried in your hands as you replayed the argument in your mind. You hated how it ended. You didn’t want to fight with Leah. You just wanted to fix things, to understand each other better.

You had barely heard the knock on the door. The sound was soft at first, but then more insistent, and it made your heart race. You stood up quickly, your mind racing with possibilities. Could it be Leah? You didn’t know if you were ready to face her yet.

When you opened the door, there she was—Leah, standing in the hallway with a nervous expression on her face, holding a bouquet of your flowers. The soft lilacs, pale pink roses, and delicate white lilies were a perfect match to her concerned expression.

“Hi,” Leah said quietly, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She shifted on her feet, the bouquet in her hands looking out of place. She didn’t seem to know whether she should step in or wait for you to say something.

You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. But the sight of her standing there, so vulnerable and sorry, made something in your chest ache.

“I’m sorry,” Leah continued, her voice growing steadier. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I never meant to hurt you.” She held out the flowers to you, her face sincere but tinged with sadness. “I wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry babe.”

You took the flowers, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. They were beautiful. Exactly what you needed—calming and gentle. You looked at Leah, seeing the slight tremble in her hands, the way her eyes searched yours for reassurance.

“I’m sorry too,” you finally said, your voice small. “I don’t know how it got so bad. I hate that we fought. I hate that I made you feel like... like you weren’t heard.” You could feel your throat tighten as you spoke, the emotions you had been holding back finally spilling out. “I didn’t mean for things to go like this.”

Leah stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Her hand gently cupped your face, and she leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. “I know you didn’t,” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your cheek. “I just... I let my frustrations get the better of me. You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t ever want us to fight like that again.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The warmth of her touch, the sincerity in her words—it all melted the tension that had been sitting in your chest. You pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug, feeling the softness of her hoodie against your skin.

“I hate fighting with you, Leah,” you said softly, your voice muffled by her shoulder. “I don’t want to argue like that again.”

Leah hugged you tighter, her fingers gently stroking your back. “Me neither,” she replied, her voice filled with emotion. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do. And I promise, I’ll work on listening better, being more patient.” She pulled back slightly, looking you in the eye. “I just want to be with you. And I want to keep making us work.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “I want that too.”

Leah’s smile softened, her eyes twinkling with that warmth you had come to love. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a moment as if to reassure both of you that everything would be okay.

“I love you,” Leah said quietly, resting her forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, the words coming easily now. “I love you too.”

You stood there for a while, just holding each other. The bouquet of flowers had been forgotten, left gently on the table, and everything felt right again. The fight, the misunderstandings—it all seemed so small now.

Finally, Leah broke the silence with a light laugh. “I’m glad you like the flowers. I was afraid I’d mess that part up.”

You laughed too, pulling away just enough to look at her. “I love them. They’re perfect.”

Leah smiled softly. “Good,” she said, taking your hand in hers. “And next time... let’s just talk things out before we get to the yelling part?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the argument lifting off your shoulders. “Deal.”

As you closed the door behind you both and went to sit on the couch, Leah rested her head on your shoulder. Everything felt right again.

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal women #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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cobaltperun · 3 days ago

Text

Jerks With Hearts of Gold - Work For It

Request: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: The first kiss should not be this difficult to get, yet nothing is ever easy for Tara Carpenter.

Masterlist / Side story of this request

Word count: 2.7k

She could no longer deny it, she could no longer fight it, and she hated every single thing about it. Except she didn't actually hate it, she absolutely loved it, only she would never admit it, especially to anyone other than herself.

Tara Carpenter was in love with a jerk.

How could this have happened? Sure, she wanted to live her life, set aside everything that's happened while being comfortably cautious about which people she let in, but she did not expect to let the biggest jerk of them all in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she took it not just a step, but a fucking marathon further by falling in love with you. So, there Tara was, lying on her bed facing the ceiling and glaring at it as if she had your face painted right on it. She might as well have it painted there, because that's all she could see when she closed her eyes. Your smiling face, that stupid grin when you prove her wrong, or when you get the upper hand in a debate, or when you just annoy the living hell out of her.

“Jerk,” she muttered as she looked through window that was somehow facing the direction you were in. Of course, you were far away, too far for her to even see your neighborhood from her window, let alone your apartment, but just the fact that she knew she would be looking in the direction of your apartment if she looked outside her window infuriated her. Why did you have to be so good to her? You stopped smoking just for her, and that really was the true start of her downfall. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? Ever since she opened up about the attacks she survived you've been crazy attentive to everything she was feeling, noticing even the minute details about her mood shifts.

Somehow, despite only knowing you for a relatively short period of time, Tara was absolutely certain you wouldn’t turn out to be a Ghostface. Maybe worse than even that was how sure Tara was that if she confessed and you returned her feelings that the two of you would just stay together. That you would never break her trust or her heart.

And that just made her afraid that one day she would do that to you. Because there was that feeling deep inside of her, that thought that maybe she did ruin everything she touched, and that she just wouldn’t know how to let you love her.

Yet at the same time, Tara knew she wanted that kind of love, that almost unconditional love, more than she wanted anything in the world. So, Tara picked up her phone and sent you a message.

~X~

You were bored beyond what you imagined was humanly possible. You were so bored you might actually consider doing schoolwork that was still far from the deadline. That's how bored you were. You weren't in the mood for a movie or some new TV show or a new book or anything that would reasonably take more than a few hours to finish, but you also weren't in the mood to go out and have fun, or go to a stupid party if Tara wasn’t there, or anything of that nature.

Luckily, just as you were about to lament on your ruined night, your phone rang and you jumped to your feet cheering loudly that there was even a smidge of distraction to be had tonight.

You placed your palms together in front of your face praying to whatever higher being that might exist. “Please be Tara, please be Tara, please let me annoy her tonight!” because you would not be that desperate to actually send the message first. Not after sending the first message four times in a row.

You plucked your phone off your charger and the screen lit up and you pumped your fist at your side. “Yes!” you exclaimed. It was Tara. “Oh, I love this girl!” your eyes widened when you said that.

Well, you did love her, and you knew that, and you knew how you loved her, how much, and how intensely. But you haven't really said it out loud and with that sudden realization the urge to annoy her faded away and you just opened the message she just sent you.

Tara: Let's meet up tomorrow

Please I'm bored

Well, that was direct and right to the point, just the way Tara always was, and you grinned like a fool because you would get to see her tomorrow instead of waiting for the next week's classes. So, you replied with a simple ‘Of course! Usual time usual place?’

It took Tara less than a minute to reply, and you've never thought a simple ‘yes’ would make you this happy.

You walked back to the bed and just fell on top of it, still grinning. You loved this girl. You loved her so damn much and she didn't even know it and maybe, just maybe you could confess tomorrow. Just see how it goes. At least you won't be painfully stuck in friendzone and things would be clear, you would know if you should give up on these feelings or if you would just have to wait for some time until she got more comfortable. You understood perfectly well just how difficult opening up would be for Tara, and all you really wanted was to know if there was even the slightest chance that she might one day reciprocate your feelings.

~X~

She must have done something right lately because all of a sudden and without even considering all of those things Tara ended up being really lucky. First of all, she didn't have classes today, Sam was working, and all of her friends had classes, so no one was free to hang out with her. Not even Chad and he was the most relaxed about classes out of all of them. At least before the exams, once the exams were going then he was the one worrying the most.

That would probably be something you and Chad could bond over. You had the same annoying nonchalant approach before the exams only to completely flip it once exams actually started. She still smiled, because somehow, despite everything, she found that endearing.

The usual spot was your code of sorts, for a small secluded spot in the park that Tara found when she first came to New York, back when she felt the need to escape from everything and pretend she was just a normal teenager. And you came to appreciate the spot as well, so instead of hanging out in a café bar or some other place, one of you would get the drinks and the other some snacks and you just go and sit at the park. And it worked well, because not only was it a nice place where she could breathe easier, but it had designated spots for picnic, so that was just another plus in its own way.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she walked through the park toward the place where you would meet up. The basket filled with your favorite food felt a lot heavier than it really was. You weren't really a flowers kind of girl, or rather Tara wasn't, she just felt that would be a bit too on the nose and she wants to be a bit subtle about everything. Although… There was nothing subtle about being twenty minutes early.

She picked a good spot for the picnic. The one with a nice shade, far enough from the people walking through the park, and light fresh breeze blowing through her hair bringing in the scent of the flowers blooming in the park.

“Guess we are both early,” Tara jumped when she heard your voice and flipped around to see you standing there sheepishly rubbing the back of your head, all the while holding a bag filled with a couple of bottles of probably juice if she had to guess. You were kind of boring like that, not really consuming alcohol, but she guessed that would make Sam like you more because you weren't some party animal.

“Damn it, you scared me!” Tara put her hand over her chest trying to calm her heart rate down. Getting scared was not one of her plans for the day!

Your eyes widened and immediately she could see the guilt on your face. “I'm sorry! I should have texted you or something, I just didn't want you to rush if you weren't here and-“ you facepalmed, you didn’t forget about anything, you just got eager to see her and she wasn’t expecting you. “God, I'm such a fool for scaring you like that!” there you were being the caring, gentle dumbass she fell in love with.

Tara smiled widely, unable to restrain her reaction. “Hey, it's fine, come on, let's just sit down and start this again, OK? Shit, look at us,” Tara laughed as you joined her, still looking at her apologetically. “We're like two teenagers trying to go on their first date instead of hanging out as friends,” she chastised herself and you to an extent because you were both nervous and she couldn't wrap her head around why you were nervous. She was the one who intended to confess her love for you… unless…

No, that couldn't be right.

The two of you knelt down on the blanket and began taking things out of the bag you brought, and the basket Tara brought. “You really went all out! And it's all homemade!” you commented, and Tara just knew you could see the blush on her face.

You only complimented her cooking, once granted she only cooked for you once, and ever since then has been practicing, wanting to impress you once more.

“I just grabbed the leftovers,” of course she wasn’t going to tell you the truth. She would die of embarrassment if that happened, but you knew, you probably knew every single time she uttered a ridiculous lie just to save face.

You snorted at that. “Of course, of course, I wouldn't dare to imply the great Tara Carpenter would prepare food for an occasion this beneath her,” you laughed and despite the joke you just said something just didn't feel right about it. It annoyed Tara more than she ever imagined it would. She just hated that there was a certain sense of self-deprecation within your voice.

So, Tara reached up, grabbed you by the chin and pulled you closer. “Don't you dare ever think that,” she leaned in, intending to kiss you and get all of this confession bullshit out of the way, and just show you how she felt instead. But then you smirked and pulled away from her and her hand was just left hanging in the air, empty, while her lips remained stuck, slightly pursed as she intended to kiss you.

“Work for it, Carpenter,” you did not just say that. You did not just deny her of the kiss she wanted for so damn long.

“What the fuck?!” Tara just stared. You actually did that to her. “Work for it? How do I- I mean- You know-“ she paused, taking a deep breath. “Was I reading this all wrong,” she gestured between the two of you. “And you actually don’t feel the same way? Y/N, I can take it if you don't feel the same way, I'm not some-“

You interrupted her by placing the tip of your finger on her lips and snickering and now she was just confused. “I do feel the same way, I love you too, Tara,” you said it so easily even if she didn't, even if she wasn't all that sure she could say those three words anytime soon, despite how genuinely she felt them. “I just want you to work for the kiss. You've been a pain in my eyes for so long, I deserve this!” you laughed and took a bite of the sandwich she so carefully prepared, choosing all the ingredients you loved, and here you were saying she had to work for the kiss.

“What do you even mean by work? How?! Tell me how?!” she demanded red in the face from the anger and the embarrassment and because she was denied of what she wanted and like a petulant child that was suddenly rejected she was just about ready to throw a tantrum.

And that wasn't like her. She was denied so many things as a child, it wasn't in her nature to throw a temper tantrum, yet with you she really felt like that. She felt like the way you were loving her, even when you were just friends, was allowing that child within her to come out for perhaps the first time in her entire life.

“Ask for it, you can’t just take it,” you winked at her. “Come on, now, Tara, all you have to do is ask,” oh, you were enjoying this. You got your victory. You knew she felt the same way that you did before you even uttered a single word and here you were eating it all up like the menace you were.

“I'm just not gonna do it,” Tara pouted and refused to look at you even if she knew you would just shrug and keep eating the sandwich.

“Whatever works for you,” you were being way too nonchalant about this and she should have been elated that you felt the same way that she did, but this was infuriating in so many ways. Of course it had to be like this with you it couldn't be just an easy, simple confession, followed by a soft kiss, followed by a passionate kiss that would threaten to consume both of you. No, it had to be this complicated and difficult because that's who you were and that's who she was. She was Tara fucking Carpenter and every single thing in her life just had to be complicated.

Well not this time.

“Let me kiss you,” she leaned in and you burst out laughing backing away once more not allowing her to claim her reward.

“That's not how you ask, dumbass,” you just laughed and sure, fine, she could play that game too.

“I want to kiss you,” you were still leaning away and she faked a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “Come on, Y/N, people are watching. They're looking at me leaning closer to you and you are not working with me here,” she was working hard for it and she had the right to her hard-earned reward.

“Not the magic word, Tara,” surely you weren't going to make her actually ask for it! You loved her back, why was this so complicated! She even licked her lips to tempt you, and she saw you looking down on her lips, she knew you wanted to kiss her as well! You just weren't giving in.

Fuck…

“Please, can I kiss you?” there. She asked. You smiled and didn't back away as she leaned in and that was all she needed to just go in and press her lips against yours for a heated, passionate kiss. And when she pulled back, she truly was rewarded by getting to see you being a stuttering, embarrassed mess. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked and stuck her own tongue at you, the tongue that was mere seconds ago inside of your mouth because of course she couldn't go for a soft kiss for the very first kiss. She had to be intense with everything that's included.

Especially with this because you deserved to be loved just as intensely as you loved her.

Safe to say you failed to construct a proper sentence for the next twenty or so minutes. Frankly she was impressed it only took you that long to get your composure back and actually start putting words together in a way that made sense.

#perunrequests #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #scream #x reader #x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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creamflix · 1 day ago

Text

IF I WAS A BAD BITCH, I'D WANNA F★CK ME TOO! ( THANKSGIVING EDITION ) ၄၃ gojo satoru x female reader x (female?!) gojo satoru

18+ content, minors and blank blogs do not interact. established relationship. threesome featuring m & f gojo. switch gojo(s), sub reader. bisexual reader. lots of crack. groping, lots of making out. voyeurism and cucking, fingering (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), use of onahole, brat taming, mindbreak, overstimulation, pegging, anal sex, riding, praise, competitive sex, creampies, use of dildo, double penetration pussy riding (go lesbians!), fem gojo calls herself "mama" #needthat,

THANKSGIVING SPECIAL!!! are you saying your thanks? either way, make sure to give your duo a kiss - and maybe something more? i wrote female gojo with @owwllly's version in mind, so please show them your love xx

dedicated as always to my pookie daph aka @curtins , my fav bi icon @sugoroo & my lovely taglist. eternally grateful for you freaks, please enjoy. ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

— general masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ series masterlist

thanksgiving.

a time to reflect, to share warmth, and — what was it again?

oh yeah — to give thanks.

you and fem gojo are nestled on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, the quiet hum of a holiday special playing in the background. it’s a rare moment of peace, with your boyfriend out handling “very important jujutsu business,” or so he claimed before dramatically declaring that he’d return as the hero of hearts.

whatever that meant.

“y’know,” she begins, her voice soft for once, her head resting against yours. “i’ve been thinking about this whole ‘thankful’ thing.”

you glance at her, surprised by the uncharacteristic sincerity in her tone. “oh? and what are you thankful for?”

she turns, her wolfcut framing her striking features as she gazes at you with a small, genuine smile. “i’m thankful for… you.”

your heart clenches, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. it’s rare to see her like this, stripped of her usual snark and bravado. “really?” you whisper, touched.

“yeah,” she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “for your kindness, your patience, and the way you…”

she pauses, and you hold your breath, waiting for her to finish.

“the way you let me absolutely wreck your pussy —”

“oh my god!” you groan, shoving her tits with an annoyed smack.

big mistake.

“ohhh,” she purrs, a sly grin spreading across her face as she presses her hands over the spot you just smacked. “do that again.”

“no.”

“please?”

“absolutely not.”

she’s leaning closer now, her grin downright devilish. “c’mon, babe. it’s thanksgiving. give me something to be thankful for.”

you bury your face in your hands, torn between exasperation and the urge to laugh. why, why, did you think she’d stay serious for more than five minutes?

it’s not like you planned to start fondling her tits. really, it’s not.

but somehow, somewhere between her outrageous comments and your exasperated attempts to shut her up, your hands found their way there.

“emotional support,” you mutter, as if trying to convince yourself. your fingers press into her tits, and she smirks.

“oh, totally. very supportive,” she teases, biting her lip dramatically. “honestly, babe, i should start charging you for therapy.”

“therapy?” you scoff, giving her an annoyed squeeze — purely on principle, of course. “you’re the reason i need therapy.”

“aw, don’t be like that,” she says, giggling as she adjusts herself to make herself more accessible.

“i hate you,” you mutter, but the warmth bubbling in your chest betrays your words.

“no, you don’t.”

“okay, fine. i don’t.”

she grins like she just won a medal. “thought so.”

somehow, between the bickering and teasing, the two of you dissolve into giggles, your forehead pressing against hers as you share that rare, quiet moment of understanding.

“you know,” you say softly, still laughing a little, “i actually really like you.”

her breath catches for a second before she beams at you, her usual cockiness replaced by something softer. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you admit, cheeks flushing. “like, a lot. but don’t let it go to your head.”

“too late,” she teases, leaning in to nuzzle her nose against yours. “you’re not so bad yourself, baby.”

and there you are, tangled up in each other, giggling like a pair of teens in love for the first time, your hands still very much not moving from their supportive position. ah, girlhood.

⋆˙⟡ —

"oh my god," she giggles against your lips, breaking the kiss for a breath as her nose brushes yours. "you’re, like, so soft. i mean, i knew you were, but wow."

"shut up," you mutter, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrays you.

"no, seriously," she presses, her voice lilting like a girl talking about her latest crush. "you’re, like, perfect. your skin, your lips — ugh. i could eat you up."

you roll your eyes, but the way her hands slide to your waist and pull you closer has your breath hitching. "is this how you get people to fall for you? flattery and... and..."

"and this?" she finishes for you, leaning in to nip your bottom lip before slipping her tongue into your mouth.

the kiss is messy, all tongue and heat, but there’s something dizzyingly intoxicating about it. her chest presses against yours, her muscles firm under your palms in a way that’s so different from satoru but just as addicting. your hands wander — her shoulders, her back, down to her waist — feeling every curve and sharp line of her body.

"you’re drooling," she teases, her lips pulling into a smirk as she pulls back just enough to speak, her breath fanning over your kiss-swollen mouth.

"shut up," you mumble again, though your voice is weaker this time, your fingers tangling in her wolfcut as you pull her back in.

she chuckles into the kiss, her hands sliding lower, tracing circles on your hips. "this is so high school," she whispers against your lips, making you laugh despite the fire pooling low in your stomach.

"oh, totally," you quip back, your voice breathy as she kisses down your jaw, her tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin.

her lips pause at the curve of your neck, her teeth scraping ever so slightly. "you’re, like, my first kiss," she says in a mock-innocent tone, though the way her hands slide up your sides betrays her act.

"you’re such an idiot," you laugh, tangling your fingers tighter in her hair.

but any retort you might have had is swallowed by her mouth on yours again, hungrier this time, her arms wrapping around you in a way that makes you feel like you might melt right into her.

it really did feel like something ripped out of a hormone-fueled teenage fantasy — the kind where you’d lie awake in bed, giggling to yourself and imagining what it'd feel like to be on someone's lap, their hands wandering with just enough teasing to make you squirm.

only this time, it wasn't a daydream, and fem gojo’s giggles were very real.

her fingers skimmed your sides, occasionally dipping just low enough to make your breath hitch, her wolfcut brushing against your cheek as she buried her face in your neck. "you’re so cute when you try to act all tough, you know that?" she teased, nipping at the skin just below your jaw.

"oh, please," you shot back, though the way your hips shifted ever so slightly against hers told a different story. "i’m not trying anything."

"oh, no?" she asked, her tone dripping with faux innocence, her hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin.

"not at all," you countered, and then — because two can play at this game — you rolled your hips against her, slow and deliberate.

her breath caught, her giggles cutting off mid-sound. she pulled back to look at you, bright blue eyes wide with surprise, though her grin quickly returned, sharper than before. "oh, you’re bad."

"just a girl in a world," you murmured with a shrug, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

"oh, this is happening," she declared, her hands gripping your thighs as she shifted beneath you, her strength evident in the way she lifted you just enough to press you down harder against her lap. "but don’t think for a second you’re getting away with this —"

the sound of the door slamming open cut her off, and both of you froze like guilty teenagers caught in the act.

there stood gojo satoru — your satoru — his hair sticking up in all directions like he’d just rolled down a hill, his glasses askew on his nose, and his uniform rumpled in a way that screamed, rough day.

his gaze darted between the two of you — your disheveled state on fem gojo’s lap, her hands very clearly under your shirt — and his mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"what the hell is going on here?"

"uh, hey, babe," you started, voice weak as you tried to slide off fem gojo’s lap, only for her to tighten her grip on you with a smug grin.

"oh, don’t mind us," she drawled, looking far too pleased with herself as she leaned back, her hands finally moving to rest innocently on your waist. "just bonding."

"bonding my ass!" he snapped, stomping further into the room. "do you have any idea what kind of day i’ve had? and this — this is what i walk in on?"

"jealous much?" fem gojo shot back, her grin widening as she arched an eyebrow at him.

"jealous? jealous? i —" he sputtered, gesturing wildly. "you — my girlfriend — you — get off her!"

"aw, but we’re just getting started," fem gojo cooed, her fingers ghosting over your waist in a way that made your breath hitch.

"i’m gonna lose my mind," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as he slumped against the doorframe.

for all her teasing and smug little quips, fem gojo made room on the couch as your boyfriend flopped down with all the grace of a tired golden retriever. he groaned dramatically, draping an arm over his face.

"thanksgiving, of all days! and nanamin — don’t even get me started. one more complaint about efficiency, and i swear he’s gonna implode. poof. bye-bye nanamin."

you and fem gojo exchanged a glance over his head, her lips twitching with the effort to suppress a laugh. you, however, mustered up the best sympathetic nod you could manage.

"sounds rough, babe," you offered, patting his knee.

"rough?" he huffed, shifting just enough to peer at you with his usual dramatic flair. "you don’t even know. i had to chase some cursed spirit halfway across town while nanami grumbled about how it was cutting into his cooking time. his cooking time! do i look like i care about how tender his turkey is supposed to be?"

"he’s got a point, though," fem gojo interjected, the grin she’d been holding back finally breaking free. "dry turkey’s a tragedy."

your boyfriend shot her a glare, though it lacked any real heat. "don’t take his side. you’re supposed to be me, remember? support your counterpart."

"nah, i’m gonna side with the one who knows how to cook," she retorted, nudging you with her elbow.

you snorted, biting back a laugh as you tried to keep your hands to yourself. which was harder than it should’ve been, considering fem gojo’s arm was slung casually around your shoulders, her fingers occasionally brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flutter.

gojo groaned again, throwing his head back against the couch. "you two are impossible."

"you don’t mind," you teased, your hand brushing his as you squeezed it gently.

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, though the faint smile tugging at his lips gave him away. "just keep your hands off each other while i’m here, alright? i’m not emotionally stable enough for this today."

"no promises," fem gojo quipped, earning herself another glare.

gojo turned to his counterpart with an air of uncharacteristic seriousness, the weight of his gaze enough to make even fem gojo pause mid-tease. "you know," he began, his tone grave, "this thanksgiving, I’d like to give thanks to you."

fem gojo arched a snowy brow, clearly skeptical. "me? are you sure? 'cause last time you gave me ‘thanks,’ it involved that dumb fight over who gets the last mochi."

"no, no, this is different," he said, his voice steady, as though he were about to deliver the most heartfelt speech of his life. "i’m thankful for your understanding... your cooperation… and most importantly —"

he suddenly straightened, his glasses slipping just slightly down the bridge of his nose. you didn’t like where this was going.

" — for letting me borrow her."

before you could even process what was happening, his arms shot out, and you were unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"toru, what the fu —"

"don’t worry! she’ll be back later!" he called over his shoulder, already bolting toward the bedroom at top speed.

"you’re welcome!" fem gojo shouted sarcastically from the couch, though her expression quickly soured as the door slammed shut behind you two.

inside, your boyfriend wasted no time, setting you against the door with a triumphant grin.

"finally. do you know how hard it was to sit there, listening to you two flirt, without doing anything? i swear, that was torture."

"toru, you’re being —"

your sentence was cut short by the sound of fem gojo banging on the door like an unruly child. "hey! this isn’t fair! sharing is caring, you selfish bastard!"

"shut up!" gojo yelled back, clearly unfazed, as he leaned down to cage you beneath him.

the pounding on the door only grew louder. "i let you borrow her, satoru! don’t make me come in there!"

"go ahead and try!" he shouted, his focus zeroing back on you as a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. "she’s mine right now."

"both of you are insane," you muttered, burying your face in your hands as gojo chuckled, pressing a teasing kiss to your neck.

outside, the banging continued, punctuated by fem gojo’s increasingly dramatic threats. "i’m serious! open this door, or god so help me —"

"she’s not getting in," your boyfriend reassured you with a wink, leaning in so close that his breath brushed against your lips. "it’s just you and me, babe."

"for now," you muttered, shooting a wary glance at the door.

somehow, you knew this wasn’t over.

⋆˙⟡ —

fem gojo had always been an advocate for patience — something you had painstakingly taught her. waiting in line for mochi, waiting for a green light to cross the road, waiting for you to finish your work before annoying the hell out of you — it was all part of the lesson.

but when it came to you? patience flew straight out the window.

"are you serious right now?!" her voice carried through the door, muffled by the thick wood but loud enough to be heard.

inside the room, your boyfriend’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “oh, she’s getting cranky,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over your ear. “let’s give her something to really whine about.”

you barely had time to protest — if you even wanted to — before gojo spun you around, pressing you firmly against the door. your cheek met the cool wood, and his hands were already tugging at your clothes with impatience, the sound of fabric shifting making your pulse spike.

“toru, she’s right there,” you hissed, but your words were quickly muffled by his lips trailing hot kisses down the back of your neck.

“yeah, that’s the point, babe,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mischief. his hands slid over your hips, steadying you as his own body pressed against yours. “don’t you wanna make her jealous?”

on the other side, fem gojo’s foot thumped against the floor in a tantrum-like rhythm. “i can hear you, y’know! i’m not deaf!”

“good,” your boyfriend shot back, raising his voice just enough to be heard. “i hope you’re enjoying the show.”

you whimpered as his fingers slid under the waistband of your pants, and he chuckled darkly, leaning in so his lips brushed against your ear. “you hear that, baby? she’s losing it out there.”

“you’re insane,” you managed, though your words came out breathier than intended, and gojo’s answering laugh sent shivers down your spine.

outside, fem gojo groaned in frustration, pacing. “i swear to god, satoru, open this door or i’m breaking it down!”

“and interrupt us? that’d be rude,” your boyfriend called back, his hands now sliding over your bare skin, making your knees weak. “just wait your turn.”

“wait my turn?!” fem gojo’s indignant screech was almost drowned out by your involuntary moan as gojo’s lips found that sweet spot on your neck.

“oh, baby,” he cooed against your skin, clearly enjoying your reaction. “don’t hold back. let her hear how good I make you feel.”

his words had you flushing from head to toe, but it was hard to argue when his hands and mouth were working in tandem to pull every noise out of you.

outside, fem gojo let out a dramatic groan. “you two are the worst! i hope you know that!”

inside, your boyfriend just laughed, the sound low and utterly smug as he adjusted your position, making sure every sound you made carried through the door.

“guess we’re putting your vocal cords to the test today,” he teased, his tone promising no mercy.

and from the way his hands and lips continued their relentless assault, you had no doubt he meant it.

⋆˙⟡ —

fem gojo slumped against the wall outside the door, arms crossed over her chest as she scowled in the general direction of the muffled chaos.

“i cannot believe i’m this annoying,” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes at yet another high-pitched whimper from you, followed by a muffled chuckle from your boyfriend. “uggghhhh. this is unbearable.”

she wanted to stay annoyed, wanted to stomp off in indignation, but every time a particularly filthy noise escaped the room, her ears perked up, curiosity overriding her frustration.

“seriously? are you sobbing?” she whispered under her breath, her own cheeks heating up. “what the hell is he doing in there, and why isn’t it my turn?”

she leaned her head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, trying to tune it out — but with you crying out so desperately, each sound more intoxicating than the last, it was impossible to ignore the heat pooling in her stomach.

“i hate this,” she grumbled, though the way her hand started to slip under the waistband of her panties said otherwise. “i really hate this.”

inside the room, gojo was grinning like a cat that caught the canary, his fingers working expertly as he leaned down to murmur in your ear. “you’re so loud, babe. think she’s out there listening? i bet she is. you’re driving her crazy.”

“s-satoru,” you choked out, your voice a broken whimper, tears streaking your flushed cheeks as he doubled down, drawing yet another broken sob from you.

outside, fem gojo’s jaw dropped as she heard you cry out again. she dragged a hand down her face, groaning in frustration. “this is torture. actual torture. and I’m supposed to be the sadist.”

her free hand, however, betrayed her as it dipped further, her breath hitching as she let herself get swept up in the symphony of sounds coming from the other side of the door.

“damn it,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes shut. “i really am a perv.”

inside, gojo glanced at the door with a smirk, clearly knowing exactly what was happening on the other side. he leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth, his fingers not slowing for a second.

“you think she’s out there losing her mind?” he teased, nipping at your jaw. “bet she can’t help herself right now. you’re just that irresistible, baby.”

“satoru, please,” you sobbed, your voice cracked and wrecked as your body trembled against his.

outside, fem gojo let out an exasperated groan, her head thunking against the wall. “patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue,” she chanted under her breath, even as her own breathing grew uneven.

but as yet another filthy moan escaped you, her resolve shattered.

“fuck it,” she muttered, her hands moving decisively.

because hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do — even if it means being the world’s most shameless audio voyeur.

fem gojo bit down hard on her lip, eyes screwed shut as she tried to keep herself from whining too loudly. her other hand worked feverishly to rub her clit, her breath hitching every time she heard you sob or moan.

she hated this. hated how much power the two of you had over her right now, and even more, hated how much she loved it.

but then, as if to make it worse, her twin’s voice cut through the door, playful and teasing as always. “oh, you’re liking this, aren’t you? so messy for me, baby.”

“damn it, satoru,” she hissed under her breath, her hips stuttering against her own hand. she had no idea if he knew she was out here actively losing her mind, but the way his voice dropped an octave, low and sultry, made her suspect he might.

“spread her legs more,” she barked suddenly, her voice muffled but sharp enough to carry through the door. “don’t just tease her, for fuck’s sake. she likes it when you —”

her own breath caught in her throat as she accidentally let out a tiny whimper. she slapped her hand over her mouth, her cheeks burning in humiliation.

inside, gojo paused for half a second, a smug grin spreading across his face. “ohhh, i hear you out there, loud and clear,” he called back, his voice sing-song.

“shut up and do it!” she snapped, mortified but far too invested to stop now.

he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself far too much, before leaning in to murmur against your neck, his tone dripping with amusement. “hear that, babe? she’s giving orders now. should i listen to her?”

“s-satoru,” you choked out, barely coherent, your head lolling back as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.

“yes, jerkface,” his female counterpart spat from outside the door, her voice cracking slightly. “you should. unless you want me to —”

her own sentence broke off into a breathless moan, and she smacked the back of her head against the wall, cursing herself.

inside, gojo laughed outright, clearly having the time of his life. “oh, you’re really losing it out there, huh?”

“don’t make me break down this damn door,” she growled, though her voice lacked any real bite, considering she was actively falling apart on the other side.

“you’d probably trip over your own pants if you tried,” gojo shot back, his grin audible in his voice.

“god, i hate you so much,” she muttered, though her fingers quickened as yet another of your sobs reached her ears, her body arching against the wall.

this was either going to be the quickest orgasm of her life, or the most torturous marathon she’d ever endured. either way, she wasn’t stopping until she finished — or until the door opened.

preferably both.

⋆˙⟡ —

the loud crack of fem gojo’s boot against the door was enough to send your already frazzled nerves into overdrive. you barely had time to register the sound before the door flew open, a gust of air rushing in as she burst into the room, panting and disheveled, her cheeks flushed, and her shirt wrinkled beyond repair.

you yelped, curling closer to your boyfriend, who, to his credit, didn’t even flinch. instead, gojo just sighed, his face plastered with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “really, her breaking down the door? so predictable,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock disappointment.

“you think i was gonna wait any longer, asshole?” fem gojo snapped, brushing her wolfcut out of her eyes as she glared at him. her voice still carried a hint of breathlessness, and she was clearly still coming down from her own orgasm.

you, on the other hand, were very much still recovering from whatever absolute hell (or heaven, let’s be real) you’d just been through. your voice cracked as you managed to wheeze, “couldn’t you have just waited like two seconds?”

“waited?” fem gojo scoffed, stepping over the splintered remains of the door like a feral, wild-eyed animal. “do you know how hard it is to hear that through a door and not go absolutely insane?!”

“sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” gojo quipped, pulling you closer to him as if to shield you from his rampaging twin.

“you’re insufferable,” she growled, stalking over to the bed. “both of you.”

“yeah, yeah,” he waved her off lazily, but his smirk didn’t falter for even a second. “you’re welcome to join us, but if you break the bed next, i’m billing you for it.”

her lips twitched as if she were about to fire back with another snarky remark, but instead, her gaze landed on you, still trembling and flushed from everything that had just transpired. her expression softened, only slightly, but it was enough to make your heart stutter in your chest.

“you okay?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

you opened your mouth to respond, but gojo cut in with a grin, “oh, she’s more than okay. aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“satoru,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands as both of them laughed, their identical voices melding together in a way that only made you want to sink further into the mattress.

“okay, fun’s over,” fem gojo declared, climbing onto the bed with a glint in her eye that made your stomach flip. “now move over, you big oaf. i’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

gojo sighed dramatically but shifted just enough to let her slide in next to you, her warmth immediately engulfing you as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“great,” you muttered, your voice muffled against the pillows as both of them sandwiched you between them. “now i’ve got two of you to deal with.”

“lucky you,” fem gojo teased, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck as gojo’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh.

“girlhood’s a bitch,” you mumbled, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos was about to unfold next.

⋆˙⟡ —

fem gojo’s face was the epitome of smug satisfaction as she toyed with gojo’s trademark eye mask, her fingers deftly looping it into an impromptu restraint around his wrists. "look who’s sitting out now,” she quipped, her grin wide enough to rival the crescent moon outside the busted door.

gojo tugged at the fabric half-heartedly, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him. "seriously? me? tied up like this? you’re just mad you missed out.”

“oh, you think this is about missing out?” fem gojo snapped, crawling toward you with a predator's grace. “this is about justice, dumbass. justice.”

“you don’t even know the meaning of the word,” he fired back, rolling his eyes — well, he tried to. hard to make the expression work with a blindfold tied around your hands.

you, meanwhile, were caught in the crossfire of their ridiculousness, though a not-so-small part of you was trembling with anticipation. the way fem gojo’s fingers were grazing your waist, her nails scraping lightly against your skin, was enough to send a fresh wave of heat pooling in your gut.

"don’t worry, sweetheart,” she cooed, her tone deceptively soft as she leaned in to nuzzle your neck. “this isn’t about you. it’s about making him suffer. you, on the other hand? you’re about to have the time of your life.”

“what else is new?” gojo drawled, shifting against the headboard with an exaggerated pout. “i’m always the one who suffers.”

“boohoo, cry about it,” fem gojo shot back before pressing her lips to yours, her kiss firm and possessive.

you melted into her touch, your body already aching with anticipation as her hands roamed freely, her confidence unmatched. the muffled sound of gojo grumbling something under his breath only added fuel to her fire.

“don’t worry, lover boy,” she said sweetly, turning to flash him a devilish grin. “i’ll make sure you hear every little sound she makes. you deserve it for locking me out.”

gojo, for all his bravado and his self-proclaimed title of the strongest, looked utterly pitiful tied up against the headboard. his pants were visibly strained, the fabric damp in spots from the sheer torment of being forced to sit out while you and fem gojo put on a show that would put the raunchiest romance novels to shame.

“oh, what’s the matter, satoru?” fem gojo teased, pausing her relentless worship of your body to glance over her shoulder at him, her lips glistening in a way that made you shiver. “you’re awfully quiet for someone who loves to run their mouth.”

gojo groaned, his head falling back dramatically as his fingers twitched against the silk of his own blindfold. “this is cruel and unusual punishment,” he whined. “i’m a man! i have needs!”

“needs?” you managed to choke out between gasps, your voice breathy and dripping with faux innocence as fem gojo’s tongue worked you into a frenzy. “like what? watching? or maybe just being a good boy and waiting your turn?”

“god, you’re both evil,” he muttered, his hips bucking helplessly against nothing.

“evil?” fem gojo repeated with a laugh, her fingers tightening on your thighs as she angled herself for better access. “sweetheart, you don’t even know what evil is. yet.”

her words sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through you, and you couldn’t resist the urge to lean into her touch, your nails digging into her toned shoulders. you moaned louder this time, purposefully exaggerated, knowing damn well what it would do to your poor, restrained boyfriend.

“oh, fuccckk,” he hissed, his head snapping up as he strained against his makeshift bonds. “you’re doing this on purpose!”

“obviously,” you and fem gojo said in unison, the synchronization only making him groan louder.

“she’s so smart, isn’t she?” fem gojo murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your hip before sliding her tongue up your thigh. “my smart, pretty little thing.”

“mine,” gojo snapped, his voice dipping lower in frustration. “don’t forget that.”

“sounds like someone’s jealous,” you teased, casting him a mischievous smile that only made him squirm harder.

“jealous doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he muttered, his tone dark with frustration and arousal. “just wait. when it’s my turn, she won’t be able to walk for days.”

“promises, promises,” fem gojo said, rolling her eyes as she slid her fingers between your thighs. “but for now? she’s mine.”

“fuck,” gojo muttered again, his voice cracking slightly as he shifted again, clearly trying — and failing — to find any kind of relief. “you’re both killing me here.”

“good,” fem gojo quipped, her grin wicked as she leaned back in. “die mad about it.”

gojo looked like a man on the edge of ruin, his composure unraveling faster than his best-laid plans ever did. his head snapped between the two of you, his wide, pleading eyes following every obscene motion fem gojo made.

“okay, okay, listen,” he started, his voice pitching slightly as fem gojo tilted her head and spat on your pussy again, the slick sound almost louder than your breathy whimpers. “we can come to some kind of agreement, right? like, uh... a time share or something?”

fem gojo didn’t even bother looking up, too busy lapping at you like her life depended on it. your head lolled back, fingers trembling as they threaded through her wolfcut, tugging sharply enough to make her groan against you.

“are you seriously ignoring me?” gojo’s voice cracked, his hands jerking futilely against the silk blindfold binding his wrists. “i’m right here! i’m dying! dying, do you hear me?”

“not my problem, satoru,” fem gojo said against your skin, her words muffled but dripping with amusement. she licked a long stripe up your thigh before glancing at him with a smug smile. “besides, isn’t this your favorite thing? watching?”

“not when i’m left out like some damn extra,” he snapped, his tone bordering on petulant.

“sounds like a you problem,” she teased, her hands sliding up your trembling thighs to grip your hips. “why don’t you just sit there and, oh, i don’t know... reflect on your life choices?”

“reflect?” gojo repeated incredulously, his voice pitching higher as he watched her spit on you again, your body jolting at the sensation. “are you kidding me right now?”

“do i look like i’m kidding?” she quipped, her grin wicked as she dipped her head again, pulling a broken sob from your lips.

gojo groaned, his head thudding against the headboard in frustration. “babe,” he tried, his voice softening as he addressed you. “sweetheart, angel, just tell her to untie me. please.”

you barely registered his words, too far gone, babbling incoherent nonsense as your body writhed under fem gojo’s relentless attention.

“awwww,” fem gojo cooed, her tone mockingly sweet as she nipped at your thigh. “looks like she’s a little busy right now, satoru. maybe later.”

“later?” gojo practically shrieked, his hips jerking against nothing as he tugged uselessly at his bindings. “you’re killing me! you’re both killing me!”

“good,” fem gojo said with a smirk, her tongue sliding back to your pussy as your trembling hands tugged harder at her hair. “cope.”

⋆˙⟡ —

the juxtaposition of it all was almost too much to handle.

you, still trembling and barely coherent after your orgasm, were being pulled into a firm handshake by fem gojo, her wolfish grin only slightly dampened by the disheveled state of her hair.

“good teamwork out there, champ,” she said, nodding at you like you’d just scored the winning goal in a soccer match, not just survived her borderline predatory focus.

meanwhile, satoru — sweet, dramatic, absolutely unhinged satoru — was in the corner, wringing his bound hands as best as he could against his knees and glaring daggers. his lower lip trembled with indignation, and his wild, slightly tear-glazed eyes were a comedic blend of frustration and despair.

“you absolute villain!” he screeched, his voice cracking as he gestured with his shoulders toward his ruined pants. “my tailored, imported, custom-made trousers! do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“relax,” fem gojo drawled, finally leaning back against the pillows like a cat after a long nap. “your cum is just another layer of fabric softener at this point.”

“fabric softener?” gojo gasped like he’d been personally slapped by fate itself. “you — you wrench! you witch! unhand me this instant, you fiend, and face me like a man — or woman — or, or whatever!”

fem gojo raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she slowly extended her arm toward him, flipping him off with deliberate precision.

“is this facing you like a woman, sweetheart?” she teased, snickering when his expression morphed into one of utter offense.

for all his flamboyant theatrics, gojo was undeniably unraveling at the seams. the man who stood undefeated as the strongest sorcerer now looked like a petulant child being denied dessert at dinner, his icy blue eyes darting between you and fem gojo with desperation simmering just beneath the surface.

"i'm right here," he whined, voice cracking on the last syllable. "hello? strongest sorcerer in the room? shouldn’t i get a little more respect — or attention, maybe?”

"did you hear something?" fem gojo mused, her voice dripping with mock curiosity as she tilted her head.

"nothing important," you replied, trying to hide your grin as you leaned into her shoulder.

gojo groaned, tugging fruitlessly against his bindings as he pouted at the two of you. "seriously? you're both evil! i’m literally about to combust over here, and you’re talking like i don’t even exist!”

his dramatic plea was met with a snicker from fem gojo, who lazily turned her gaze toward him. "oh, poor baby. are you finally learning what it's like to feel left out?"

“left out?” he nearly shrieked. “i’m suffering! do you know how long it’s been since i —”

"shut up already," fem gojo cut him off, her smirk sharp as she slid off the bed and crouched in front of him. gojo froze, his breath hitching as she reached for his waistband.

“wait — what are you —”

with a quick tug, fem gojo yanked his pants down, utterly ignoring his indignant sputtering about the sanctity of custom-made trousers.

"oh, quit whining," she drawled, digging into a nearby drawer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "you should be thanking your girlfriend for being so considerate."

“considerate?” he echoed, his confusion melting into mortification as she pulled out an onahole.

his face turned a vivid shade of red, his earlier bravado crumbling like a house of cards. “wait, wait, wait — i’m not thanking anyone for this —”

"you will," she quipped, already lubing up the toy with a casualness that made his head spin.

"oh my god," he muttered, his hands twitching in their bindings as his gaze darted to you. "baby, you're gonna let her do this to me?”

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “what’s wrong, ‘toru? i thought you said you were suffering.”

before he could protest further, fem gojo slid the toy down his dick, her free hand pressing against his thigh to keep him steady. his breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as his head tipped back against the wall.

"oh, he’s already squirming," she teased, her tone laced with mockery. "guess he wasn’t lying about being pent up."

“shut — shut up,” he stammered, his voice wavering as she began to move the toy with deliberate precision, her grip firm but unhurried.

you couldn’t help but giggle as gojo let out a strangled moan, his earlier indignation dissolving into a series of helpless whimpers.

“poor thing,” you cooed, reaching out to brush his bangs from his forehead. “guess even the strongest needs a little help sometimes.”

gojo’s cheeks flushed even darker, his gaze flickering between you and fem gojo as if he couldn’t decide whether to curse you both or beg for mercy.

"just... don't stop," he finally muttered, his voice cracking as his hips bucked against the toy.

"wasn't planning on it," fem gojo replied, her grin wicked as she picked up the pace.

for all his protests, gojo was utterly at their mercy

and, judging by the look in fem gojo's eyes, she was nowhere near done making him squirm.

⋆˙⟡ —

it really was something, wasn’t it? girlhood in all its beautiful glory. here you were, lounging back as fem gojo sat cross-legged beside you, casually fiddling with her nails and adjusting her wolfcut while gojo — your boyfriend, the strongest sorcerer alive — was reduced to a moaning mess on the floor.

“honestly, i don’t even know how you deal with him on a daily basis,” fem gojo mused, inspecting a chipped nail like she wasn’t the one who had just turned his world upside down.

“patience,” you replied with a smirk, gripping the onahole a little tighter as gojo let out a strangled groan.

“i’m right herree,” he whined, though his voice cracked halfway through, his chest heaving as you twisted the toy just so.

“we know,” you shot back, not sparing him a glance as your pace quickened. “you’re loud enough to remind us.”

“so ungrateful,” fem gojo teased, leaning back on her hands and watching him through half-lidded eyes. “you’d think he’d be a little more appreciative, considering what he’s getting right now.”

gojo’s head lolled back, his cheeks flushed a deep red as his hips bucked uselessly against the toy. “i am appreciative,” he panted, his voice barely above a whimper. “just — please —”

“please, what?” you interrupted, your tone sharp enough to make him flinch. “is that how you ask nicely, ‘toru?”

his lips parted, but no coherent words came out, just a series of broken, needy sounds that filled the room alongside the obscene squelch of the onahole.

“that’s what i thought,” you said, your voice dripping with mock pity. “maybe if you behaved better, you’d get to feel something real.”

fem gojo snickered, ruffling her wolfcut as she leaned closer to you. “god, you’re good at this. he’s lucky he has you, y’know.”

“oh, i know,” you replied with a grin, sparing her a quick glance before focusing back on your boyfriend.

gojo whimpered, his head jerking forward as his eyes locked onto yours. “baby, please, i’ll — i’ll be good, i promise, just —”

“you’ll be good?” you repeated, arching a brow. “after you’ve been nothing but a brat this whole time?”

his chest heaved as he struggled to form a response, his nipples perked and glistening with sweat as his entire body trembled beneath your control.

“god, look at him,” fem gojo drawled, nudging your shoulder. “you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger. it’s almost pathetic.”

“almost?” you quipped, smirking as gojo let out another desperate moan.

“okay, fine, entirely pathetic,” she conceded with a laugh.

gojo whimpered again, his head dropping forward as his hips bucked one last time. “please,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he teetered on the edge.

you sighed, pretending to mull it over as you slowed the pace of the toy. “hmm, i don’t know… do you think he’s earned it yet?”

fem gojo hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin like she was considering a complex problem. “eh, let him finish. i wanna see how much of a mess he makes.”

and oh, did he ever.

the moment gojo came, it was like the entire world tilted on its axis. his body jerked violently, muscles spasming uncontrollably as the aftermath of his orgasm hit him like a freight train. his head lolled back against the headboard, silver hair clinging to his sweat-slicked forehead, and his chest heaved with each ragged breath he took.

the onahole in your hand was overflowing, thick and sticky, with a puddle forming beneath it on the sheets. you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine as you stared at the mess he’d made, but it was impossible not to be affected.

“damn,” fem gojo drawled from the side, her lips curling into a smirk as she leaned closer to take a better look. “didn’t know he had that much in him. maybe i should’ve gone easier on him earlier.”

you shot her a glare, though it lacked any real bite. “yeah, thanks for that,” you muttered, your own arousal now at an unbearable high as you let the ruined toy fall to the side.

gojo’s glazed-over eyes finally fluttered open, his cerulean irises locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. despite how wrecked he looked, a lazy grin spread across his flushed face.

“baby,” he rasped, his voice rough yet laced with warmth. “you’re so good to me.”

the tenderness in his words sent a jolt straight to your core, and before you could second-guess yourself, you were undoing the bindings around his wrists. the moment his hands were free, they shot up to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his lap with surprising strength given his current state.

“my turn,” you whispered, your voice low and needy as you positioned yourself over him.

“oh, yes,” he breathed, his large hands settling firmly on your waist. “wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

the first slide of him inside you was enough to make your eyes roll back, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he filled you to the brim. his earlier orgasm only made the stretch slicker, hotter, and all the more sinful.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as he helped you set a rhythm. “so tight, so beautiful — god, i love you so much.”

the sweetness of his words was a stark contrast to the filthy, desperate way he moved you on top of him. every roll of your hips had him groaning, his praise interspersed with dirty whispers that made heat pool in your belly.

“look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe as his gaze roamed over your flushed face and heaving chest. “taking me so well. my good girl — so fucking perfect for me.”

your head fell forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whimpered, “harder.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. his grip on your hips became bruising, and his thrusts grew more forceful, each one sending shockwaves through your body that made your toes curl.

“that’s it,” he growled, his teeth grazing your jawline. “take it, baby. take everything i give you.”

“jesus christ,” fem gojo muttered from the sidelines, though her tone was tinged with amusement. “you two are something else.”

but you couldn’t care less about her commentary. not when gojo was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, not when every filthy praise and touch from him had your body hurtling toward its breaking point.

as you and gojo clung to each other like your lives depended on it, fem gojo sat off to the side, arms crossed and lips pursed in a pout so exaggerated it could’ve been in a cartoon. the wet sounds of your bodies moving together echoed through the room, punctuated by your moans and gojo’s filthy praises. it was enough to make anyone blush — well, anyone but her.

“wow,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she watched you with a raised brow. “so glad i could be here for this. really feeling the thanksgiving spirit, you know?”

neither of you acknowledged her, too lost in your own world to pay her any mind. gojo’s hands were on your hips, guiding you up and down his dick with a fervor that had your legs trembling, and you were clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“seriously?” fem gojo scoffed, standing up and walking over to the dresser. “i’m the one who started this whole thing, and now i’m getting sidelined? unreal.”

when she turned back around, you barely noticed the telltale gleam of the strap-on in her hands until she was right behind you.

“guess i’ll have to remind you who’s really in charge here,” she said, her voice low and teasing as she adjusted the straps around her hips.

you barely had time to process her words before her hands were on you, pulling you back slightly so she could press her lips to your ear.

“don’t worry, sweetheart,” she cooed, her tone both saccharine and sinful. “i’ll make sure you’re thoroughly thankful by the end of this.”

gojo groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he glanced over your shoulder at his female counterpart. “seriously? now?”

“what?” she shot back, smirking as she lubed up the strap. “can’t handle a little competition, big guy?”

“it’s not competition when i’m winning,” he retorted, though the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed his bravado.

“yeah, yeah,” she said dismissively, positioning the strap against your entrance. “just try not to cry too hard when she screams my name, okay?”

your breath hitched as you felt the cool silicone press against you, and gojo’s eyes darkened as he watched your reaction.

“you okay, baby?” he asked softly, his hands caressing your sides.

you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you said, “yeah. just...go slow.”

“oh, i’ll go slow,” fem gojo murmured, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she began to push the strap inside. “at first.”

the stretch was intense, but the sensation of being filled in both places was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. your body trembled as you tried to adjust, and gojo was quick to kiss away the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride and adoration. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“she really is,” fem gojo added, her hands gripping your waist as she began to move. “and she’s gonna look even better when i make her scream.”

the two of them worked together seamlessly, their movements perfectly coordinated as they took you apart piece by piece. every thrust, every touch, every whispered word of praise sent you spiraling further into bliss, and you quickly lost track of where one ended and the other began.

gojo’s lips were everywhere — your neck, your shoulders, your chest — while fem gojo’s hands explored every inch of your body, her touch both firm and gentle in all the right ways.

“look at her,” fem gojo said, her voice thick with arousal as she watched you writhe between them. “so beautiful, so fucking needy. you love this, don’t you, sweetheart?”

you could only nod, your voice breaking as you tried to form a coherent response.

“she loves it,” gojo confirmed, his own voice strained as he watched you come undone. “she fucking loves it.”

it was a sensory overload, plain and simple. between gojo’s hands gripping your hips like a lifeline and fem gojo’s unrelenting pace behind you, you were sure your body was going to give out.

but of course, these two were more focused on their ongoing battle of who could out-praise, out-dirty talk, or out-insult the other than on your well-being — not that you were complaining.

“god, she’s so tight,” fem gojo groaned, her fingers digging into your waist as she snapped her hips forward. “guess she likes me more than you, huh?”

gojo scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. “oh, please. you’re just riding my coattails, loser. she’s dripping all over me.”

you wanted to protest, to tell them both to shut up and focus, but all that came out was a high-pitched moan as they found a rhythm that had your toes curling.

“ya hear that?” gojo teased, his grin smug as he looked over your shoulder. “she’s screaming for me. guess you’re not all that after all.”

fem gojo rolled her eyes, her pace quickening as she leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “don’t listen to him, baby. i’m the one making you see stars, aren’t i?”

you opened your mouth to answer, but all that came out was a broken sob of pleasure, and they both laughed — one soft and teasing, the other loud and boisterous.

“what’s the matter?” gojo asked, his tone faux-concerned as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “can’t handle it? too much for my pretty girl?”

“your pretty girl?” fem gojo shot back, her tone incredulous. “hate to break it to you, but she’s — fuck — she’s clenching around me like she doesn’t want me to stop. isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

you tried to nod, but the movement sent a shiver down your spine, and fem gojo chuckled.

“see?” she said smugly. “told you.”

gojo groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as he thrust up into you. “yeah, well, she’s making a mess all over my cock, so — shit — who’s really winning here?”

“winning?” fem gojo gasped, her rhythm stuttering for a moment as she tightened her grip on your hips. “you’re such a — goddamn, baby, you’re perfect — such a sore loser.”

“you’re just mad i’m the one she’s kissing,” gojo retorted, his hands pulling you impossibly closer. “bet you’d kill to have her lips on yours right now.”

“oh, like you wouldn’t,” fem gojo snapped, her voice breaking as you whimpered and clenched around them both. “you’re just lucky she’s too busy — fuck — to realize you don’t deserve her.”

“and you do?” gojo shot back, his thrusts growing sharper as he glared at his counterpart.

“goddamn it, both of you —” you tried to cut in, your voice hoarse from the onslaught of pleasure, but another wave hit you, and your words dissolved into a moan.

“see?” gojo said smugly, his grin widening as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “she can’t even talk. that’s my girl.”

“keep dreaming,” fem gojo muttered, her pace quickening as she leaned forward to press her lips to your neck, her teeth grazing your skin.

⋆˙⟡ —

thanksgiving, truly the season of giving, and boy, was gojo in a giving mood tonight.

the man was shaking beneath you, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon. his hands, trembling but firm, clung to your thighs, his nails digging into your skin as he let out a downright pitiful whimper, his head tipping back with a dazed, glassy-eyed expression.

“that’s it,” he babbled, his voice slurred and broken as he bucked up weakly into you. “t-take it, sweetheart... take all of me — fuck, you’re gonna look so good, all round ‘n glowing —”

his breath caught in his throat, and with a drawn-out moan that bordered on wailing, he came in you, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you squealed at the sudden warmth. your own body clenched down on him, the sticky sensation of him filling you tipping you over the edge.

“oh my god,” you choked, your nails raking down his chest as your orgasm hit, leaving you trembling and gasping.

fem gojo, ever the opportunist, finally withdrew from behind you with a satisfied hum, the slick sheen on her strap glinting under the low light.

“awwwww, look at you two,” she teased, her tone dripping with mock sweetness as she unfastened the harness. “such a cute little mess. now, if you’ll excuse me…”

without missing a beat, she sank down onto the still-attached dildo, a low, satisfied groan escaping her lips as she rolled her hips. the obscene squelch of her movements made your already oversensitive body shudder, and you couldn’t help but turn your attention to her.

“c’mon, baby,” she teased, her grin wicked as she met your gaze. “don’t let me do all the work here. cheer me on, yeah?”

through the haze of pleasure and exhaustion, you managed a breathy laugh, your voice weak but teasing. “you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

she threw her head back with a laugh of her own, her pace quickening as she dug her nails into her thighs. “damn right, i am.”

meanwhile, gojo looked like he was on the brink of passing out beneath you, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused as he muttered incoherent praises. whether it was the aftershock of his release or the dawning realization of what he’d just done — shooting his load into you with the enthusiasm of a man on a mission to give you a baby — you weren’t sure.

“you okay down there?” you asked, your voice soft and teasing as you brushed a damp strand of hair from his face.

“mmph,” he groaned, his arms weakly wrapping around your waist. “so good… so fucking good… gonna put a baby in you…”

fem gojo let out a loud, incredulous laugh, her movements stuttering for a moment as she caught her breath. “you really think one round’s enough for that, big guy?”

gojo groaned in protest, his grip tightening on you as he glared half-heartedly at her. “shut up… it only takes one…”

“sure, sure,” she said with a smirk, her hips picking up speed again as she threw you a wink. “guess we’ll just have to see, huh?”

and with that, thanksgiving turned into a whole new kind of holiday tradition. ah, the season of giving.

⋆˙⟡ —

patience might be a virtue, but fem gojo was clearly not in the mood for any virtuous behavior tonight. she had already tried being "respectful" by letting you and her male counterpart have your moment, but who was she kidding? the real deal — you — was right in front of her.

and, well, when life gives you a stunning girlfriend covered in sweat and looking like sin itself, you don’t waste time fiddling with plastic.

“alright, babe,” fem gojo grinned, flipping her wolfcut back as she effortlessly scooped you off her passed-out counterpart. gojo was out cold, muttering something about “diapers” and “college funds,” his limbs splayed like a starfish on the bed.

he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“don’t worry about him,” she said, tossing a glance at his unconscious form as she positioned you on top of her. “this is girl talk now. and mama’s gonna take real good care of you.”

your cheeks burned, and you instinctively clung to her shoulders, your thighs trembling as they straddled her. “you sure about this?” you whispered, voice laced with anticipation and a hint of shyness.

fem gojo’s grin widened, her hands steady as they guided your hips against hers. “baby, the only thing i’m not sure about is how the hell you’ve gone this long without letting me show you how girls really do it.”

she didn’t wait for a response, rolling her hips up against yours in one fluid motion. the friction sent a spark shooting through your body, and you gasped, your nails digging into her toned shoulders.

“see?” she cooed, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “told ya. mama’s got you.”

her hands gripped your waist, firm but gentle, as she took the lead, her movements slow and deliberate, teasing every whimper and moan out of you. your legs shook, but she held you steady, her grin never faltering.

“look at you,” she teased, leaning in to nip at your jawline. “already so sensitive. didn’t know my girl could get this worked up so quick. guess he’s not doing his job right, huh?”

“oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in her neck to hide your embarrassment.

she chuckled, her hands slipping lower to grab a handful of your ass as she pushed you down harder against her. “nah, babe. i’m your god tonight.”

meanwhile, gojo snored in the background, blissfully unaware that his girlfriend and clone were having the time of their lives just a few feet away.

ah, girlhood. lesbians, 1. gojo, 0.

⋆˙⟡ —

“sedimentation,” fem gojo mumbled, her cheek squished against your sweat-slick shoulder, arms wrapped around you like a clingy octopus. her legs tangled with yours, and despite how sticky and gross you felt, she showed no signs of letting go. “it’s important. gotta let things settle.”

you groaned, attempting to wiggle free, but she tightened her grip, pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. “settle what, exactly? i’m not some science experiment.”

“nah, you’re better than that,” she muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion. “you’re my cute little petri dish.”

“that’s not better!” you whined, half-laughing despite yourself.

fem gojo grinned against your skin, clearly pleased with her terrible analogy. but when she shifted slightly, the embarrassing squelch between your legs was impossible to ignore. you buried your face in your hands, heat rushing to your cheeks as you groaned in mortification.

“don’t even start,” you grumbled, glaring at her as she snickered.

“babe, that sound?” she teased, tapping her temple like she just had a galaxy-brain moment. “it’s gonna live rent-free in my head for years.”

“i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

you sighed, glancing over at satoru, who was still snoring like a freight train, completely oblivious to the chaos you’d all caused tonight. he looked oddly peaceful, sprawled out like some kind of overgrown child, his hair sticking up in all directions.

“we should clean up,” you muttered, trying to untangle yourself from fem gojo’s hold.

“nooooo,” she whined, tightening her grip and pulling you back down against her chest. “cleaning’s for losers. let’s just sleep. thanksgiving’s over anyway.”

“and satoru?” you asked, nodding toward his drooling form.

she waved a dismissive hand. “damage control can wait. he’s fine. probably dreaming about the best baby stroller to buy.”

you snorted, letting yourself relax against her. maybe she had a point. thanksgiving was chaotic, messy, and embarrassing beyond belief, but at least it ended with some semblance of peace.

“fine,” you relented, closing your eyes as sleep finally started to pull you under. “but next year? we’re doing thanksgiving normal.”

“sure thing, babe,” she mumbled, already half-asleep herself. “whatever you say.”

you had a sneaking suspicion that next year’s thanksgiving was going to be anything but normal. but for now, sleep. thank god for sleep.

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lnfours · 11 hours ago

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focal point ☆ chapter 2 | l.n

summary: you’re running out of time to start your project and lando’s really trying to get you to agree to his ultimatum, despite your constant disagreeing.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy!lando x sunshine!reader, banter per usual, kind of shitty writing, and some more setting the scene.

series masterlist

the sunlight shone in through the tall windows of the library as you scribbled in your notebook. highlighters and pens scattered across the table, laptop sitting in front of you with a list of assignments you needed to get done this week.

the headphones on your head helped block out any noise from the outside world, free of any distractions from the other students in the upstairs portion of the large building. however, they also drowned out the noise of footsteps approaching behind you.

a tap on your shoulder almost sent you flying out of your seat, turning around and tugging an ear cuff off to be met with green eyes and brown, floppy, messy curls that clearly had endured the wind outside. you immediately sighed, “what do you want, norris?”

“well beings you left me on read,” he wore that stupid, signature smirk that you really just wanted to wipe off his face, “i figured i’d come to you with the proposal in person.”

“has anyone told you how insufferable you are?”

he pulled the chair out from across the table, dropping his backpack to the floor before leaning back in the wooden chair, “no, they’re usually telling me i’m irresistible,”

“their standards must be pretty low.”

he shrugged, watching as you closed the lid of your laptop, placing the pen that once had been in your hand down on the lined paper. if there was one thing you knew about lando norris, other than the fact that he was undoubtedly annoying, he was also stubborn as fuck.

“let me get this right,” you started, “you want to be my model for my project so that in return i help you in econ, right?”

“yeah,” he said, “you scratch-“

“‘i scratch your back, you scratch mine’, yeah, whatever,” you said, “here’s my question, why don’t you just go to the tutoring center for help? like everyone else?”

“because i know you,” he said, “and because there’s a long ass waitlist for a tutor.”

“maybe you should’ve went earlier in the semester,” you shrugged.

“wasn’t failing the course til now,” he had an answer for everything, didn’t he?

“look, you’re running out of time to find someone for your little painting, and i’m one test score away from having to take the class again and miss graduation in the spring. why don’t we just be civil for the next month or so, help each other out, and then we can go back to hating each other as much as you’d like.”

maybe he had a point. you were running out of time to get started and despite your best efforts in not trying to feel bad for him, you kind of did. econ was a hard course, even you had struggled with it last semester. and you really didn’t want to be the reason why he misses graduation if you didn’t help him.

it wasn’t really that bad of an ultimatum, surely it could’ve been worse. it’s not like you were going to fall in love with him or anything.

“alright, fine,” you said, making him smile and cheer silently, “but, we‘re doing things my way.”

he put his hands up in fake surrender, “whatever you say,”

you began packing your things into your bag, “can we start tonight?”

“yeah, my last class ends at six. ‘m free after,”

“sounds good,” you said, “i’ll text you which building and floor is mine.”

he nodded, that stupid smirk popping up on his face again, “it’s a date then.”

you scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder before calling over your shoulder, “definitely not!”

you got back to your apartment, throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter before spotting your roommate, lily, on the couch. an episode of the show she had been trying to convince you to watch on the tv, but her head leaned back to smile at you softly.

“how was the library?”

you hummed, rummaging in the fridge before grabbing a water bottle from it, “it was fine until the devil showed up.”

she laughed softly, “‘the devil?’”

“yeah,” you plopped down next to her, “remember the guy i was telling you about the other day? oscar’s roommate who asked me to tutor him in exchange for being my model for the project?”

she hummed, “yeah, what did he just show up?”

“unfortunately. i think oscar must’ve mentioned to him that i go to the library on fridays to work on assignments. the guy literally tracked me down to convince me to agree to his plan in person because i left him on read the other night.”

she laughed softly, “gotta give it to him, at least he’s committed,”

“to getting on my nerves? oh, one hundred percent.”

“i mean, at least he’s offering to help you too,” she said, “plus, is he really all that bad?”

“just wait til you meet him,” you mumbled, “what’re your plans for tonight?”

she looked at the time on her phone, “after this episode i’m gonna start getting ready to head to the cafe. promised someone i’d meet them tonight,”

you wiggled your eyebrows, bumping her shoulder, “ooh, is it that cute guy from your chemistry class who you won’t shut up about?”

“one, i do shut up about him,” she sent you a pointed look but her face broke out into a small smile shortly after, “and two, maybe, who knows?”

“lils this is great!” you smiled, “i told you, he’s definitely into you!”

“i hope so. part of me wants to believe you, but the other part is telling me he just said ‘yes’ out of pity.”

“well then he clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing out on if he did,” you stood from the couch, “wear that black long sleeve you have, you look hot in it.”

“i hate you,” she laughed as you ventured to your room, heading to start setting up the things you needed for tonight.

“no you don’t!” you giggled back.

you made your way into your room and gathered all the supplies you were going to need in order to start your project tonight. humming along to a tune that was stuck in your head, you glanced at the clock and realized that time had passed a little quicker than you had thought.

lando should be here any minute.

and as if right on queue, you heard lily’s voice through the apartment, “y/n, lando’s here!”

you made your way to the living room where he was standing talking to lily, backpack still on his shoulders. he sported a backwards cap over his curls with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants to match. little curls peeked out from underneath the hat and-

why were you subtly checking him out?

“okay well you guys have fun,” lily smiled softly, “i’m heading out. it was nice meeting you, lando! i’ll see you guys later!”

her voice brought you back to the present tense, lando bidding her a soft smile and a wave, “nice meeting you, too!”

“bye! good luck!” you called back, causing her to let out a chuckle and a playful eye-roll as she’ll as she headed out the door.

“so,” he said after a beat of silence, following as you led him to your room, “what is it that you need me to do?”

you grabbed your sketchbook from your desk as he sat at the edge of the bed, “you can do whatever you want as long as you’re still enough for me to be able to come up with a draft.”

“sounds good,”

“good, let’s get this whole thing over with, yeah?”

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kittymizuki · 3 days ago

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thinking about the kamikou festival event again and how it conveys the tone and atmosphere of the school while showing the constant transmisogyny microaggressions mizuki lives with every day so well, and this phone call with an drives me insane bc even though an is genuinely well-meaning and is trying to ensure that mizuki knows that today is a safe day for her to come to school due to the circumstances of the festival, the way she words this is very discomforting bc she's basically saying "nobody is going to notice that you're dressed as a girl today bc everyone is wearing wacky outfits!" which carries the unfortunate implication that the way mizuki presents herself is equally wacky in a way that reinforces everything ppl say about her, but this isn't easy for her to push back against bc she doesn't have a good enough 'excuse' to do so when this is one of the few ppl who go out of their way to accommodate her even if they don't fully get it? it's thoughtful of an to want to reassure her but also it's another little thing that others fail to understand. she's trying to be kind but even then mizuki feels somewhat pushed into a corner. she's very bad at actively saying No. and an has removed her ability to misdirect here bc an is speaking with ambiguity.

mizuki also being too anxious about the idea of changing her clothes in school bc she's terrified of the possibility of being caught and thus having her body perceived by others... that's also another reason she'd hate being at school. gym and changing for it … i'd wager mizuki skips almost every gym class bc she can't stand the idea of being forced to change amidst boys, but she's also not allowed into the girls' locker room… literally only has the option to go to the roof if she wants to change. she's so hyper cognizant of her body and being seen … and the worst part is, she likes to be seen under her own circumstances and control (which is one of the many reasons she's very passionate abt fashion, and a lot of trans ppl in fiction tend to have an attachment to fashion and styling which makes a lot of sense bc of the element of control over one's appearance and making a self one can love). she really does. it just … happens that she knows she has so little control.

i've read the vbs main story (and a bit of their events but i need to continue whoops) and this makes me appreciate mizuki's brief interaction with kohane and an here more, bc it's obvious in this moment that kohane is just being her usual self—anxious around other ppl she's not familiar with and this is something she wants to improve upon (which as far as i can tell is the conceit of her character arc as an underdog of sorts compared to the others in her group). but mizuki assumes that she has to be uncomfortable with her specifically (presumably due to her transness) bc of her experiences, so she immediately feels bad about 'taking up space' and decides to make up an excuse to get away from the situation to give kohane the chance to comfortably hang out with her friend. and the fact that mizuki goes out of her way to say that she's going to find a place to hide alone is interesting bc the way it's framed it doesn't sound like it means much, but it feels deliberate on her part, like she wants an to know... mizuki's internal world and where we see she has internal bias and how she blames herself or assumes she herself is the problem if she can't make others comfortable, and she takes so much upon herself all the time bc she's used to constant microaggressions and either can't say how she truly feels or has to divest what she feels from its context to make it palatable. but of course kohane is not transphobic, she is someone who has trouble socializing with strangers bc of her own anxiety that has nothing to do with mizuki herself, but mizuki doesn't have access to this perspective like the reader so it's easy for her to assume that she's the problem. it's paranoia but it's understandable considering how she's treated by almost everyone...

#project sekai #mizuki akiyama #gamo.txt

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srslylini · 7 hours ago

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When I read the text and it said "At the center is Piltover" I genuinely knew everything I had to know about what happened in season 2.

And then he goes and talks about Zaun and the way it's portrayed? What.

"A society of thieves, smugglers and makeshift svengalis"?

The way this immediately tells us all we need to know about his views in this kind of social conflict. Who is the reason Zaun has no other choice, Linke? Why can't they do anything but steal? Why can't they live like the rich people in Piltover, Linke?

It's almost like the people who are rich and privileged, looking down on those who have no other choice, is EXACTLY the problem????

I thought they understood that rich people making themselves feel better, for example by calling (poor) people savages, is not actually the right thing.

In season 1, by the way, they showed the council doing crimes themselves and STILL making themselves feel better than those they deem less. If you remember it, they showed Jayce who was starting to get hated because he stopped the others from doing illegal shit. If you remember, they showed the council corrupting each others votes and fucking doing crimes.

I thought, and now this is totally on me, they fully understood that the privileged people had more than double the amount of blood money than those they deem "bad". I thought they also understood that the privileged people just have all the water in the world to wash the blood off and continue to act as if nothing ever happened.

So that's on me.

"The people of Piltover need to decide: Take back control of its city's underground by violent force and risk a civil war, or let Zauns dangerous evolutionary advances go their way"

eye twitching

I'm not even going there because what the FUCK. Dangerous? Evolutionary? Advances?

But do you know what the writers themself say with this? That they agree with Caitlyn.

They agree with Caitlyn on all, that also means they agree that there is "good ones in Zaun I guess", this means the first 3 episodes weren't actually setting anything up and that also means

"Vi is one of the good ones".

#what the fuck #christian linke #at this point i don't even know why Im surprised #fuck #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane season 1 #arcane spoilers #vi #jinx #caitlyn kiramman #sevika #mel medarda #jayce talis #arcane zaun #arcane piltover #zaun and piltover

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mattsnight · 2 days ago

Text

Summary: in which Chris can’t hide his feelings for Y/N any longer.

Warnings: cursing !!

WC: 5k+++

Chris hated how he felt for you. The extreme feelings were overwhelming and it was hard keeping them together. He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live knowing you were his best friend and that nothing would ever happen with the two of you.

You were always the clingy kind of type. You couldn’t be alone for more than 24 hours and always had to be with someone who you loved. Most of the times it was Chris, which he didn’t mind at first, but when his feelings for you started, it all became a lot.

You came over to the triplets’ house today, since Chris hasn’t been answering your calls. You were really worried about him. When you walked into the house you were met with an angry Chris. He didn’t want you here at all. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt him to do this shit to you, but he needed these feelings gone. And there it was, he was bottling up all his feelings and is now taking it out on you.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you?” You say to Chris as he just ignored you when you tried giving him a simple hug. He never did this, he would always hug you even when he was annoyed. He lets out a huff, rubbing his eyes as he glances in your direction.

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. It's you, you're just always around being clingy, I can't even breathe without you being all over me. Seriously, do you have to be so clingy? Give me a break every once in a while," Chris bites back with a roll of his eyes. A small gasp leaves your mouth at his sudden anger. “What the hell happened to you, chris? At first you’re all nice and sweet to me and now you’re acting like a huge dick.”

Chris grits his teeth, turning to look you in the eyes a lot sharper than usual. "So now it's wrong that I've decided to give myself a break from your clinginess? Is that a crime now?" He quips, raising a brow at you unimpressed. "God, you're always so needy, you can't even go half a day without wanting my attention. Have you ever considered that maybe I'd want alone time?”

“I was giving you one hug, chris. I wasn’t sat on your lap touching your chest while waiting for you to fuck me!” You yell back, anger now running through your body. Chris is visibly taken aback by your words, the harsh bite of them makes his chest ache, but he can't focus on that right now. He lets out an annoyed huff, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. "You always hug me!" He points out, throwing his arms out. "Like, it's never just one hug, you're always all over me, no matter if we're alone or in public. It's like you can't stand the thought of not being attached to me or something!"

“Im not always hugging you! I was so excited to see you, is one hug that bad?” You say, running your hands through your hair. "And there it is again, the excuses!" Chris exclaims in annoyance. "You're always all over me, you've gotta touch me. You know I'm not the biggest fan of physical touch, so why are you always so clingy with me, huh, can you answer that?" He asks, raising a brow at you with an expectant expression on his face.

“Because we’re friends? Cus i enjoy being with you? Because maybe im trying to get our friendship back!” Yeah, that one hurt. It had been a while since you and Chris had hung out. At first you thought it was because he got a girlfriend, but he didn’t, Nick told you that.

"And you need to cling to me to do that? You need to be attached to me at all times to do that, is that it?" Chris asks, clearly still frustrated and a little on edge. "It's annoying. I'm allowed to want my own goddamn space every once in a while, why's that so hard for you to understand? I just want a little space to breathe, alone, without having you sticking yourself to me like glue."

Fuck, why did it have to go like this? You hated this and you knew he did too. There was hurt smashed on both of your faces, but the both of you didn’t stop. “Then tell me to shut up, leave and never come back!” You say, a voice crack slipping through. Chris's eyes widen slightly, his mouth going slightly agape at your words, his heart beating loud in his chest. He did not see that coming. "What?" He asks, a hint of surprise sneaking into his voice. “Tell me to leave, end our friendship and do whatever the fuck you want without me.” You repeat with a voice crack.

Chris's jaw clenches, his chest feels tight and his stomach sinks at your words. Every fibre of his being wanted to scream at you to shut up, to stay with him forever. He did not want you gone, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to tell you. "I don't want-" he tries to protest, swallowing hard and averting his gaze. "I don't want that."

“Then what do you want, Chris?!”

"You!" His eyes widen the moment the word escapes his mouth, he didn't mean to say that, he meant to say anything other than that. He clamps his mouth shut, staring at you with a mix of shock and frustration. “What?” You say quietly, not believing that you heard him right.

"I- nothing, I... nothing, forget I said that," he runs his fingers through his hair, cursing himself inwardly. This did not get better. "I just... I think, maybe, we should just have some time apart for a while. Take some space, I'll be fine without you glued to my side, you'll be fine without me around all the time." His voice stays the same, not even a slight change.

“You said me.. chris.. what does that mean?”

"I said nothing, alright?" Chris snaps, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue, but it was too late. He couldn't lie his way out of this now. He lets out a huff, scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you with a frustrated expression on his face. "Damnit... you weren't supposed to hear that."

You take a small step back at his snap. It wasn’t because you were scared, you wanted to give him space. His expression softens just the slightest as he sees you take a step back, his heart panging in his chest as he registers the hurt in your eyes. He shakes his head in defeat. "No, I... Damnit, I can't... Look, I can't do this right now." He runs a hand through his hair again, turning his back to you and walking a few moments. Clearly he was frustrated and upset about the whole situation. “Chris—“ you try, but he doesn’t want to talk.

"Just don’t." He bites, his voice low as he keeps his back turned to you. He clearly wasn't in the mood to keep the conversation going. He was upset, and in pain, and he knew he was hurting you as well. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew he was, and that was so much worse in his mind. “Please just talk to me, Chris. I want to understand what is going on.”

"What is there to talk about, huh?" Chris turns to look at you again, eyes sharp and his muscles coiled tight with tension. "What are we supposed to talk about? I said something I wasn't supposed to, I can't take it back, so what do you want me to say? I don't want to talk about it, not like this, not right now."

He is still staring at you, his expression pained and frustrated. It was like he was trying to hold back so many things, trying desperately to keep them all at bay and yet they were so obvious on his face. "And what was that little stunt anyway, huh? Trying to get a reaction out of me, is that it? Well great, you got one. You did what you set out to do, I screwed up. I said something I shouldn't have said. Happy?"

Your eyes start filling up with pain. It wasn’t your intention to do this. You didn’t mean any of it, you just wanted a reason why you’re losing your best friend. Chris's heart clenches within his chest at the sight of your hurt expression. The sharp pang of guilt and regret hits him hard, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. "You wanted a reaction, and you got it. I'm human. Do you think you can just prod and poke at me all the time and I won't snap back?" He bites, narrowing his eyes at you despite the panging in his heart. “Im sorry, okay?…” you say.

"You're sorry, is that it? You're sorry?” Chris snaps, taking a step closer as he towers over you. His face is a mixture of anger and pain, despite the growing guilt at the expression on your face. “You're sorry? Great, that just fixes everything, doesn't it? You didn't mean to make me snap, didn't mean to prod and poke at me until I exploded, but that's fine because you're sorry now, right?" All his anger is aimed at you when you just tried to fix something broken. You don’t dare to speak, scared you’ll ruin it even more.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," he continues, his voice still sharp and bitter. "You can apologise all you want but it's not gonna change the fact that you got exactly what you wanted out of me. You pushed me to the limit, and you got a reaction. So don't bother apologising, it's too late for that." He says, letting out a frustrated huff while scrubbing his face with his hand as anger and guilt clash together in his mind. He wants to yell at you, wants to scream at you and let it all out, but at the same time the sight of your hurt expression is killing him. "Goddamnit.." he mutters under his breath, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“I should go home.. this isn’t gonna work.” You finally say, breaking the silence. "Yeah... maybe you should," Chris responds, but the moment the words escape his mouth he wishes he could take them back. His heart is panging against his chest, his stomach clenches with guilt at the idea of you leaving. He didn't want you to go anywhere, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted you to not look so hurt and upset, but he'd gone and made it all worse in his anger.

You grab your bag quickly after his respond, ready to leave. Chris can’t take this anymore, he needs to make this right. He needs to talk to you. His heart drops to his stomach as you reach for your bag, the reality of the situation hitting him hard as he watches you get ready to leave. "Just... just wait," he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can even think about it. "Please don't go. I... shit.”

He falters, his breath catching as he tries to find the right words. "I... look, just... just sit down, alright?" He asks, his voice suddenly much softer and more vulnerable than before. He wanted you to stay. He couldn't stand the thought of you leaving right now, he needed you to stay. He swallows hard, forcing out the next words as his heart pounds in his chest. "Please just... just sit down. We need to talk, not like this. Just... just sit down and listen to me. Please."

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” You ask, sitting down on the couch to listen to him. "I don't know!" Chris exclaims, frustration and annoyance rising in his voice again. Why does it have to be so difficult? He should've just kept his mouth shut in the first place, he'd made a huge mess and he knew it. "I don't know why it has to be so... so difficult." He repeats, softer this time. "I don't... I just don't know." He scrubs his face with his hand, gritting his teeth and taking a deep, calming breath.

“What happened between us?” You ask, wanting answers. Chris's heart pang's in his chest again at your question. A million answers could've come to his mind, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he clenches his jaw, sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I don't know," he repeats again, his frustration growing. "I... I don't know, things just... changed."

He runs his fingers through his hair, raking his brain for the right words to say, the right way to explain things without saying too much. "I can't explain it. Things just... look, it's just so complicated." He glances at you, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He looks away again quickly, sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Things just aren't how they used to be. Something changed... and it's all wrong now."

“Does it have anything to do with you saying that you want.. me?”

Chris visibly tenses, his breathing catching in his chest as the memory of his earlier words comes back to him. He swallows hard and nods, his heart thudding against his ribcage. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice strained. "It has... everything to do with that." He says before looking up at you again, his expression pained and his eyes full of anguish. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he explains, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to hear that. I didn't want you to know."

“But you said it, what does it mean?”

Chris takes a deep breath, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it's all he can hear. He knew he was in too deep now, there was no backing out. "It means exactly what you think it means," he mutters, his voice low and heavy. "I... I want you. I want you." He couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but now they were out there in the open and he couldn't take them back. His eyes search your face, looking for a reaction, a response, any sign of how you felt at his words, but he couldn't find it. "I... I want you," he repeats, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I've wanted you for a long time, and it's been killing me. I... I've messed it up, I know I've messed it up and I can't take it back, but it's the truth. I want you. I need you."

“Jesus christ, Chris.. we could’ve talked about this sooner without that arguing.” You groan as waves of mixed feelings wash over you. Chris lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs his hands through his hair again. "You think I wanted to argue with you? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I didn't want to deal with this, I didn't want to admit this." He sighs deeply, his heart panging in his chest as he meets your gaze. "I'm an idiot," he mutters, his voice quiet. "I just ruined everything, didn't I?"

“No chris— god.. i am in love with you too.”

Chris's heart stops in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as your words wash over him, a rush of emotions surging through him at your confession. His eyes widen, his heart thudding so hard against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. He just stares at you for a moment, like his brain isn't quite comprehending what he's just heard. "You... what?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, chris..” you say. Those three words hit Chris like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending his heart into overdrive. He didn't think he'd ever hear those words from anyone, especially not from you. His expression softens, a mix of surprise and wonder and disbelief on his face as he takes a cautious step towards you, like he's afraid he might shatter whatever fragile dream he's suddenly found himself in. "You... you mean that?" He asks, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yes! I have for a long time, but i didn’t know how to feel when you just.. stopped talking to me.”

A wave of emotions washes over Chris at your words. Relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another step closer to you. "You... you love me?" He repeats, his voice a little shaky as he tries to process everything. "You love me?" He takes one more step towards you, his expression full of hope and awe. You look up at him, noticing he was already staring at you. His blue eyes are searching your face for any sign of dishonesty or deception. Instead, all he sees is love, and a whole lot of it. His heart is beating so hard in his chest it physically hurt, but he didn't care. All he could see was you, and the fact that you just confessed to loving him. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly putting a hand on your waist, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he moves too quickly.

And there it was, the kiss you’ve both longed for. It feels like a switch is flipped inside the two of you. Like you’re finally free. Your hands move to his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move to your ass, letting them rest there. Everything is how it’s supposed to be.

When the kiss finally breaks, Chris's expression is a mixture of wonder and shock, like he can't believe that just actually happened. His heart is pounding in his chest, his brain struggling to process what's just happened. He couldn't believe that you actually wanted him, that you loved him. He lets out a breathless laugh, his face still so close to yours that he can feel your breath on his face. “Shit that was so good.” He says, trying to get some air. Oh and it was good.

It was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

The end<3

Oh my god why is this sooo long :,) i hope yall liked it!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo blurb #chris x y/n #chris x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader

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