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fairyysoup · 3 months ago

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the devil i know

chapter one: god you've got the blackest eyes

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire… and the demon’s.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn’t know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

a/n: Hi folks, for the month of October this year I'm going to be reuploading all the chapters of this fic onto tumblr, this time hopefully for good. I apologize for the time that it's been taken down. Genuinely, this fic has garnered so much kindness and support and I think of it as one of my biggest accomplishments. I hope you all enjoy it just as much the second time around as the first.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Through me you pass into the city of woe, Through me you pass into eternal pain, Through me you pass among forsaken people. Justice moved my exalted creator; I was wrought by divine power, Supreme wisdom, and primal love. Before me all things created were eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Inferno, Canto III

The book you’ve used for ages now, since late in your junior year of high school, has only one page in it that you haven’t utilized. You don’t know how much faith to put in it– you’re a little short on faith, these days– but, the spellbook lays it out simply, so you follow its directions to the letter.

To summon a demon at a crossroads, go to a place where two paths meet on the dark moon. You find peace and quiet in the woods, deep where you know no one walks at night but two paths cross in a small clearing banked with trees. It’s your favorite place to go when you want to do a spell– ritual– and you don’t want to be bothered. The whole thing can’t be more than twenty feet across. Above the overhang of trees, there’s no moon in the sky, only stars.

Cast a circle of protection. That took more research than just the book in your hands, but years of collecting information have given you learned knowledge– there are a million ways to cast a circle, and different circles for different purposes. You do your best to create one for protection. You draw a literal circle in the dirt with a stick, fill it with salt, and walk around the circle three times clockwise to cast it. You light candles to give yourself some light, and to free up your hands of the flashlight you carried to see your way through the woods.

Make an offering of copper. Your hand pauses on the copper dog tag in your hand. You’d thought of just offering a penny, but you remembered reading somewhere that pennies barely contain copper anymore, and you didn’t have anything else that was entirely made of the one metal.

You run your finger over the embossed name on it. Lacey. Your pet’s old collar feels heavy in your hand as you remove the tag from the leather strap and bury it in the earth, you guess, to reach the… Underworld? Hell? You can’t honestly say, considering the text you’re referencing only calls it the Otherworld.

It’s a big sacrifice. It’s personal. But, you guess, that gives it more meaning. Making a deal is personal business, and you have your reasons.

Recite the summoning incantation. A stanza of words you don’t understand. You don’t think it’s in Latin, but you try your best, all the same. You read them from the book before you, and feel your blood rushing in your veins as you do.

State your desire out loud in a clear voice. Well, that’s a little more difficult. What is it that you want?

You take a breath, go to speak, and then stop. You don’t know how to start. You don’t know exactly how to describe your pain. You don’t know how to voice your anger well enough, you just know you need to… you need to get it out, somehow. This is a very crucial step in the ritual, you have to do it.

“I came here to make a deal,” you speak frankly, clearly. “I’m prepared to do anything. I’ve run out of options. I’ve been hurt too many times, by too many people who didn’t care what they did to me. I’ve lost everything I genuinely loved. I’m�� I’m angry, and desperate, and I’m frightened. And I feel so alone. It’s eating me alive, and I just… I just want the ability to make things go my way, for once.” Good enough, you hope.

Wait for an answer.

You do. You listen intently, to the song of the leaves in the trees rustling in the slight breeze, to the crickets chirping in the grass. You wait long enough that you start to rethink your approach.

It could be that things will turn around if you just wait another month, or another month after that. Maybe you’ll get the car back. Maybe you’ll get the promotion that was given to the newbie that you trained. Maybe your ex will stop coming around your work to intimidate you. Maybe you’ll get a new dog to take the place of the one that he killed. Maybe the evangelical town you live in will stop shunning you and calling you a witch, like something out of the middle ages.

Unlikely, that last one.

Just when you swear it’s a failure, that you should just pack up and leave, that’s when a strong gust of wind rips through the clearing out of nowhere. The candles blow out– and then, oddly enough, relight themselves. There’s a slight scent of smoke on the breeze, and you look around to make sure none of the candles fell over in the wind.

They’re all perfectly fine. There’s nothing amiss, it seems, until you hear a cough and movement across the clearing. You look forward, and see a pair of black combat boots in the stream of light from your flashlight. You follow the boots up to a pair of legs, clad in dark jeans, and then further up, to a torso, and a head, and a pair of sparkling eyes.

“Hi.”

You stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes. You’d fully expected the traditional scary depiction of a demon– maybe horns, goat hooves, et cetera. But the man that answered your call is… just a man. A pretty one. He has long, curly hair, which falls over his broad shoulders and stirs in the wind. His plush lips curve up in a relaxed, cocky smile, as he takes in the sight of you in return.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“Sorry, hi. Hello.” You shake your head. “Can you believe I honestly thought I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?”

“I can believe a lot of things. You know, there’s a reason why the demon summoning ritual is first in that book.” His voice is soft and resonant. You get a mental image of heat waves radiating from tar-black and glowing magma, rolling slowly over lava beds. The image disappears just as soon as it flashes into your mind.

“Well, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about making a deal with a demon first thing,” you explain, looking away shyly. “But I’ve tried all the spells in this book and not a single one of them worked. Just seems like everything is getting worse all the time.”

He doesn’t look away– rather, he keeps staring at you, unblinkingly. Like you’re the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He leans up against the tree that he appeared beside, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a shirt with a demon’s head on it. Fitting. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.

“So, now you wanna make a deal with little ol’ me, huh?” He grins, a gorgeous smile that flashes bright, sharp teeth at you. He lifts a cigarette to his mouth and bites it gently between his teeth. He doesn’t pull out a lighter. Instead, you watch him light up with a small flame that erupts from the tip of his thumb.

“Depends on who you are,” you retort, eyes following the movement of his hands. They’re weighed down by large, silver rings that reflect the light of the flame before it snuffs out. “What’s your name?”

He makes a short noise in his throat, shaking his head abruptly. He doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as you feel he should– more like he’s trying to warn you against something you don’t want. He peers at you from beneath his wavy bangs as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point at you. “Names are really powerful things where I come from, babydoll. Best not to bite off more than you can chew yet. Once we cut a deal– that’s when you get my name.”

You make a face as you mull that over. “So what do I call you, in the meantime? Demon daddy?”

“You could,” he chuckles. The demon rocks to the side, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If you really wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, it’s flattering.”

You grunt. “I think I’ll pass on that, actually.” He tilts his head with a sicker, watching you with an amused smile while you shift in place. “So, do I– I mean, you need to know what I want, right? Is that how this starts?”

“No, I know what you want.” He exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils. “You want power. To get a fair shake, find your place, change your life. Defend yourself against the assholes making that life, well. A living hell.” As he spits out the words, his voice rings sharp through the trees, like the strike of a hammer on glowing metal, shooting sparks off into the air.

“I want to take all this pain and just… return to sender. Give it back to them, y’know? I never wanted any of it,” you justify. Your voice is too small in comparison with his. “Maybe then I’ll be able to fucking breathe.”

For how little space you allow yourself to take up, he seems to consume the rest of it. He nods slowly. “That’s a fair request, sweetheart.”

“It’s selfish, I know.”

“Making a deal for power is inherently a selfish thing,” he shrugs. “Own it. I’m certainly not judging.”

You let out a shaky breath. You’re still so nervous, being so near him– ten feet away and growing closer every second, it seems, even though neither of you have moved. You feel like, no matter how far you pull back, the flow of fiery lava he seems to embody will keep creeping towards you until you’re burned alive.

His dark eyes glow like coals in the night as he looks you up and down, and then he quickly pushes himself away from the tree. You startle at the abrupt movement, and watch as he swings around it like Gene Kelly on a lamp post.

When he rounds the tree, he uses the momentum to throw himself toward your circle. You flinch, and he frowns, but continues moving toward you at a slower pace, holding his hands out innocently. “Wanna know a secret? About how all this,” he twirls a finger in the air, indicating the ritual you’re in the middle of, “works?”

You nod, gazing up at him shyly. If you felt at all powerful while casting the circle and starting the ritual, he’s managed to take the wind out of your sails. You can feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He smirks at you. “You make your petition– when you say the words in that little book,” he points at the volume at your feet, “and that petition is answered by whichever demon caters most to that desire.” He points at himself emphatically, his eyebrows raised. “Me? Infernal majesty of freaks and misfits. I’m your demon daddy.”

You finally giggle, and it makes him smile fondly, like that’s what he’d been gunning for all along. He backs up a step and puffs his cigarette.

“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.” He regards you for a second, like he’s thinking things over. “That is, as long as you agree to my terms.”

“Terms?” You echo, but you were sort of expecting that. Nothing for nothing, right? “What are the terms?”

“Ah, they’re simple. Very traditional,” he waves his hand like it’s frivolous. He holds his hand out in midair, and just like how he’d conjured the flames, he produces a weathered book. It looks like a composition book that has scribbles and doodles all over the front of it– the same demon head that adorns his shirt. “You sign your name with your blood in my little black book, you hop on one foot with your hand on your head and pledge your undying fealty to the dark lord Kthulu, and then you meet me on the sabbath to kill a child and make them into soup.”

He smiles, fluttering his eyelashes at you innocently.

“Are you fucking serious?” You blurt.

“Of course I’m not fucking serious– what is this, the dark ages?” He snorts as he lowers the composition book. “Nah, we don’t do human sacrifice on the sabbath anymore, it was getting too difficult to evade the witch hunters.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He flashes you a disarming grin. You can feel yourself halfway smirking as well, incredulous but somehow enjoying his humor. Then he shakes his head and says, seriously, “No, you do have to sign my book, though. And then meet me back here on the full moon to fuck.”

You blink at him, reeling from the whiplash of that. “You… I’m sorry?”

“I find it best not to sugarcoat it, y’know.” He shrugs, “Think of this as a marriage, of sorts. I give you the power to smite thine enemies, live deliciously, blah blah blah, and then you meet me at the crossroads every full moon to be my whore and we fuck like bunnies all night. Simple as that.”

“That’s far from simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be monogamous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continues frankly, “except on the full moon. I won’t compromise about that– you’ll be all mine, and I’m all yours. No takesies backsies.”

“No– that’s not–” You exhale, holding your hands over your eyes. “I’m just… not promiscuous like that…”

“Sweetheart.” He waits until you’ve lowered your hands to look at him, and he hums, with a saccharine smile that reminds you of the power you’d felt sweep through the clearing when he arrived. “You won’t be the first good girl I’ve broken, and you won’t be the last. If you’re worried about promiscuity, well… I answered your petition. I know what goes on in that pretty head, and it barely scratches the surface of what I’ve seen and done.”

The toe of his boot barely nudges the edge of your circle, and a spark crackles in the dark from the impact. The light dances in his eyes longer than it remains in the air, like they caught the spark and ignited.

“Trust me,” he says, drawing you in with the low register of his voice. “I can give you more than power. I can give you protection. I can give you real happiness. Karma’s a fucking bitch, so I can be, too. This is just such a little thing in return. And who knows… you may even like it.”

You shiver at that, even though his presence feels hot, like his stream of lava is surrounding you, crowding you in, boiling you where you stand. He’s right– you absolutely might like it.

Because there’s just something magnetic between you, isn’t there? You can sense it, more than any heat and any sort of primal fear you might have instinctively at his presence. There’s a certain pull you feel toward him, emanating even through the salt barrier on the ground.

You want to wrap yourself in him. Boil you alive, burn you to a crisp, destroy you– you don’t care.

“Or… is it that you don’t like this body?” He wonders aloud, striding backward two steps. He turns, his hand lifting his seemingly ever-burning cigarette to his lips. “Figures– y’know, I can be anything you want me to be, babydoll.”

Confused, you watch as he transforms in front of you. In the length of two steps while he paces across the clearing, his face and body stretches and contorts, until you’re not staring at the same visage anymore. He stops, and he turns to you with his palms up, like he’s waiting for your approval.

You’re looking at Tom fucking Cruise.

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” you shake your head vehemently, scowling. You wave your hands demandingly, “Put it back. You were so hot before– please, please go back to the way you were.”

The demon grins and turns his head, throwing the cigarette away. His hair grows back to its previous length, his face morphing as if made of clay until you meet the same pretty smile you’ve come to enjoy looking at.

He chuckles, grabbing a lock of his hair and drawing it across his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course,” you murmur, but you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can hear it. His eyes are embers, blazing at you from beneath his bangs. “Is that what you normally look like? Is that your true form?”

He makes an iffy sound. “It’s what I looked like when I was human. My true form has more horns and unhinged jaws and claws and all that. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I thought you said you could read my mind. Do you know how much monster porn I’ve consumed? That’s hot as shit to me,” you argue, and he snaps his head towards you in surprise. You point at yourself. “Freak and misfit.”

He laughs, and it sounds like the roaring of an out of control fire, burning up everything in its path. He kicks his heel on the ground and steps up to your circle again. “I like you, baby. I really do. What do you say?”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, an annoying lump forming in your throat with the question. You’ve been burned before by people far less powerful than this demon, yet who still hold so much power over you. However much they have.

“You can’t,” he answers, more honestly than most would. He tilts his head with a crooked smile. “Not to get all preachy on you, but even if I wasn’t a demon… trust is built, not a given. ‘The devil you know,’ right? Better than the one that you don’t.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice coming out breathy and winded the longer you gaze up into his eyes.

“Trust me to be… intense, I guess,” he shrugs. “And probably impulsive. But I’ll always deliver on our deal. Be my witch, my wife, my whore– whatever you want to call it, but be mine. I think we’ll have so much fun together.”

“Yeah, I think– I think I will.” You’re nodding, and his smile grows with yours. “I want to.”

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

Your toe scuffs the boundary on the ground, breaking the circle. Immediately, your senses are assaulted by smoke, not just the tobacco he’s been smoking but the scent of a wildfire, of cities burned to ashes, of desolation and destruction and pyroclastic flow and roaring, exploding volcanoes.

Your demon crosses the line you’d drawn on the ground with ease, producing the worn composition book in his hand again. The cover reads Hellfire Club in chicken scratch handwriting.

“Are there others?” You ask, prompted by the word Club on the front as he flips open the book to a middle page. An agreement is already written out in red ink. “Do you have more than one, um…”

“Consort?” He whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your stomach flutters. “Not for a long time. I’m very picky about my partners. They have to be just as much of a freak as I am.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, although the admission makes you feel… better, in a way. You squint in the dark, but with the exception of the candles around your circle, there’s nothing to allow you to properly read what’s written on the page.

He sighs, shifting on his feet beside you. “Are you one of those people who’ll read the whole contract?”

“Absolutely I am,” you hum. The book feels heavier in your hands than it should. “Can you give me a light?”

“Jesus Christ.” He produces a flame from his forefinger just as you turn to give him a confused look.

“Shouldn’t you, like… evaporate after saying that?”

In the yellow glow of the flame, he just blinks at you, looking amused. “Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are, believe me.”

You snatch his wrist and yank his arm closer to the page. His body collides with yours, and he grunts in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, embracing you from behind. You’re engulfed in the scent of smoke and the heat of his flames, impossibly hot and comforting all the same.

His hair brushes your shoulder as you read his contract. It’s just a few lines, but the weight they hold will seal your fate.

The agreement made this night of the dark moon shall henceforth be enacted from the signing of this document, that hereby renders the human party’s soul bound to the infernal party. Witness that the first party must appear before the second party each full moon to lay in matrimonial fashion, and that in return the first party shall be protected and given the powers of the second from here until the human’s mortal passing.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” you coo, tracing the red ink with your fingers.

The demon over your shoulder rolls his eyes. “It’s a fucking pre-nup.”

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though, does it?” You murmur. “I mean, I get the power to change my circumstances and you get– what– sex once a month?”

His hand tightens on your waist, and you pause. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously, so close to yours. They aren’t just glowing coals- this close, you can see the small details. You can see the swirling, the churning of lava within them.

“It’s not just sex, is it?”

“What do you think making a deal with a demon entails, sweetheart? Read the fine print.”

You look back at the page. There are no other words on it, save for the ones you’ve already read. “I don’t…?”

“It’s your soul, honey,” he mutters, pointing at the word. His mouth is muffled against your shoulder as he peers over it. “I won’t ask anything of you other than the sex, as long as you live. But right now, you’re offering up your soul. And once your life is up, you get to be just like me. Understand?”

“I… yeah. I understand.” You let go of his wrist, but pause over the pages of the book. “I don’t have anything to sign with.”

Wordlessly, the demon takes your hand. You let him caress your wrist, feeling your pulse with his thumb. Then, before you realize what’s happening, a sharp sting makes you yelp as he cuts your skin with his pointed thumbnail.

He shushes you, letting the blood well up on your skin. “I did say you needed to sign with blood.”

Your voice shakes when you hold your dripping wrist over the page. “I thought you said you were joking.”

“Not about the book. Rules of the trade, I can’t change it.” Your blood splatters the notebook, dripping into the crease of the page. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts your wrist to his mouth and closes his lips around the small wound. It heals in a heartbeat.

“Is that it, then?” You ask, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t you have to sign?”

Your demon kisses your wrist gently, his lips soft, inviting. “This is going to hurt,” he warns, and you nod. The heat of his breath makes your skin tingle, all your nerves on high alert.

But then that tingling turns into a burn, that turns into a searing pain. You feel like your skin is on fire, an invisible hot brand held against your wrist. You cry out as he holds you close, letting you bury your face into his neck, holding you up as your knees threaten to buckle.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs to you as you whimper. He holds your arm as the pain fades into a throbbing ache, cradles your hand against his cheek as he coos into your hair. “You’re so strong. Not many people can handle my mark, you know. Fate works in funny ways.”

Your demon holds you until you can stand on your own, until your breathing evens out and you can compose yourself. He shushes you quietly, rocking you from side-to-side with a soothing hand stroking your head. Then he holds your face, and kisses your tear stained cheeks. The touch of his lips stokes at flames beneath your skin.

“I’ll look forward to our time together, little witch,” he whispers. And with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he disappears entirely.

You stay in the circle for a while, clutching your throbbing wrist and crying frustrated tears. You wonder if you made the right decision, and yet, you don’t understand why you just want him to come back. You miss the comfort of his presence, even if you don’t know enough about him to justify it. All he did was hurt your arm and take your blood and kiss away your tears and make you a witch.

It’s too late to go back on your decision now. There’s an all-encompassing fire you can feel burning in your veins, emitting from the pulsating wound on your wrist. His power. His fire.

You pull your hand away from your wrist to finally inspect the mark that he branded you with, declaring you his in the same chicken scratch that had been on the cover of his book. It’s small enough that a well placed bracelet would cover it, but you don’t know that you’ll want to.

Eddie.

Your demon’s name is Eddie.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #tdik!fic #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie #demon!eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #roses*

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quicktimeeventfull · 17 days ago

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how to make your fic easily findable

okay hello everyone! here is my somewhat solicited guide on how to make your fics easier for interested readers to find.

please note that this is a guide to help you make your fics discoverable, not to make them popular(tm.) it’s also not a guide as to the best way to post fic. you do not need to do these things. doing these things will not make people like your fic more or less than they would otherwise. i do not do all these things, either. my aim here is purely to provide suggestions that will make your fic easier to search for and share.

where to post your fic

post it on ao3 as an individual fic. authors are often hesitant to post short fic on ao3, but readers simply cannot find it if it’s not there. multi-chapter drabble collections are a matter of preference and are absolutely fine to use, but in terms of findability they’re really hard for readers to pass around or put on rec lists.

you can also post your fic on tumblr. ime fic posted in full is way more likely to be reblogged than an outward link. long fic posted on tumblr should use a read more cut, but at least a paragraph should be above the cut.

should i make a promo post?

yes. ao3 does not have any features that facilitate promoting fic -- if you don't make a promo post, people will only see your fic if they regularly browse through newest fics or actively search for one of its tags.

what should i put in a tumblr promo post?

a tumblr promo post should generally contain:

title

pairing

name of the fandom

summary of fic

link to fic

your tags should contain

pairing

name of all major characters

name of fandom

the word ‘fic’ (so people who hate fic in the tags can filter it out. be polite!)

other optional inclusions:

rating (explicit, teen, etc)

word count

major tropes

graphics (don’t forget alt text!)

a sample of your writing (it’s common to grab a ‘best-of’ passage from within your fic, but personally i’ve found you get a way better response if you paste the first couple paragraphs then add a ‘continue’ link at the end.)

tumblr does remove posts with certain keywords from the tags, but honestly these keywords are very minimal. if you’re worried your post might not be added, double-check ‘latest’ and find an alternative phrase if necessary. don’t censor the word. you do not need to repost — tumblr will pop it back in as soon as you’ve removed the word. (it won’t push it back to the top, though, so it’s best to correct this asap.)

a further note on tags

use the most commonly used tag. look at other people’s posts to find the fandom norms. it is fine to add multiple variations of the same tag.

this is especially important if the tag is ambiguous. for example: ‘near’ is the most commonly used name for the death note character, but the full name ‘nate river’ should be included as well. take into account that a lot of people use plain searches rather than tag searches. an ambiguous name might be usable as a tag but not as a plain search. top vs latest searches will also give dramatically different results — ‘top’ searches tend to retrieve appropriate results with ambiguous names, but ‘latest’ results won’t.

what should i not put in my tumblr promo post?

self-deprecating statements. this isn’t a moral statement. people just don’t like to read things if the author is telling them it’s bad

criticism of other people’s work, even if it’s really general. ‘i usually hate hurt/comfort but i wrote this anyway’ is obviously going to alienate the vast majority of your readerbase

anything unrelated to the fic. if people can’t tell whether or not something is a personal post, they’ll be hesitant to reblog. if you want to add commentary, put it in a second reblog.

what should i include in my ao3 summary?

this is a bit of a moving target. some readers like fairly detailed summaries. other readers look to tags for content information and prefer abstract vibes-based summaries. my suggestion would be to include the main selling points of your work — the characters, the tropes, and whatever factors make it unique.

at the end of the day, though, basically anything other than ‘i suck at summaries’ is fine.

what ao3 tags should i include?

any major pairings, any major characters, any major tropes. imagine your fic from a reader’s perspective — what tags would they look under if they were searching for something like it?

also pay attention to whether or not an ao3 tag is canonical. only canonical tags can be filtered on. if it autocompletes, it’s canonical.

for more information on a specific tag, click into the tag to reach the ‘x works in TAG’ screen, then click it again. tags are often made synonyms of specific canonical tags, in which case filters will treat them as if they’re that tag. you can get pretty granular with all of this but basically if you use tags that autocomplete you’re good to go.

you can also use tags to clarify content. (ex. ‘this trope is only a minor aspect of the story.) ao3 used to ask people not to do this, but it’s now explicitly permitted.

does posting time matter?

yes. sorry. it does. quite a bit, frankly. people often overthink this — there are so many variables trying to find the exact perfect time is a losing game — but it is absolutely worth taking into account.

when should i post?

on ao3: do NOT post between 12AM and 5AM UTC. ao3 has a longstanding posting glitch that will backdate your work if it’s posted between these times. in general: broadly speaking fic tends to do best on sundays and worst on friday. posting on a holiday dramatically drives down traffic. fic should be posted on ao3 when most people would likely have time to read (ex. after the standard workday) and promo posts should be posted when people would likely be looking for fic (ex. commuting hours aka slightly before 9AM and at 5PM.) the majority of tumblr users operate in EST.

the university semester also makes a massive difference to how much engagement a fic gets — views always shoot up during breaks and plummet during exams. honestly working around this would require delaying your fic so frequently that i can’t see it being worth it, but it’s good to be aware of in terms of the response you’re expecting.

also the ‘best’ posting time does vary a lot genre by genre so you’ll have to experiment a bit. (personally i’ve found h/c tends to do better midweek, for example.) imagine your fic from a reader’s perspective: when would you likely be looking for this sort of thing?

anyway don’t drive yourself crazy with this but also don’t shoot yourself in the foot by posting at 2AM EST on christmas morning. do you have a random piece of advice about posting on ao3? please be aware that if you write your fic as a draft, ao3 will backdate the fic to the day you saved the draft and index it accordingly -- it won't show up in the newest fics. multichapters initially posted as drafts will sometimes glitch and backdate every single new chapter. you can correct this by checking the 'set a different publication date' box and manually inputting it.

should i reblog my own promo posts? yes. do this. do it multiple times. make sure you do at least one reblog in the morning, one in the night, and one on the weekend.

i feel like authors are often embarrassed to reblog their own work because it feels self-important but the fact is most people are not reading your blog start to finish. no one will see all your reblogs. tbh you may lose followers for this but this is is a guide on fic visibility, not tumblr popularity.

please conclude your post now

anyway!! i hope some of this is helpful. again, you don't need to do any or all of this, but i hope it can provide a bit of a framework and some suggestions.

#ao3 #fic

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the-scarlet-witch-22 · 2 months ago

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Love & Liabilities: Chapter 5 (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: While you prided yourself on your ability to always put your work above everything else, what happens when you find yourself haunted by a ghost from the past? (A ghost who brings baked goods, waters plants, and enjoys reminding you of what you’ve been missing)

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage! Mommy Kink, degradation kink, light choking, dirty talk, blow job, strap-on sex

A/N: Lawyer!Agatha is back! Finally returning to this fic and planning on updating as regularly as my schedule will allow. If you'd like to be added to my tag-list, feel free to let me know! (if you changed your handle or aren't on here but were previously please lemme know and I'll add you back) Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy- would love to hear what you think!

Tag-List: @chiar4anna @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @ris-ris-mind @tr333sus @sabstance-blog

Previous Chapter

Present Day

If there was one thing you had learned from practicing law, it was that the world was filled with misconceptions. For many, misconceptions were nothing more than what the word suggests; small errors. However, as a prosecutor you found yourself unable to revel in that life of luxury.

In your line of work, a misconception could result in something as trivial as having difficulty filling a jury due to anyone with a beating heart finding an excuse to be sent home. Or to the more extreme case of a criminal being able to walk with no consequences.

However, occasionally the opposite would occur, where the details of a case become so warped and misconstrued that someone innocent is found to be guilty.

But, you weren’t supposed to worry if a defendant was innocent when your entire job revolved around proving why they were guilty.

That’s what made the past few days so confusing.

You had looked over the files Agatha accidentally left behind, and found they held more questions than answers. As crazy as it sounded, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was an accident, as any normal person would never compromise such sensitive details to their opponent.

But then again, most people weren’t Agatha Harkness.

To your knowledge, one set of the hospital records, Wanda Maximoff’s records, were previously sealed, and you didn’t want to imagine what the attorney had done to acquire them.

You did wonder if perhaps this was some sort of trap that Agatha was hoping you’d fall into in order to incriminate you, because if there was one thing your former lover prided herself on it was always being ten steps ahead of her opponent before obliterating them in court.

But that was surely just your paranoia talking.

A few days after Agatha’s impromptu break in you finally finished combing over every last possible piece of information you could gather from the hospital records. The two patients, one of them being Wanda Maximoff, had been involved in a car wreck. Wanda had been eight months pregnant at the time.

The second patient, Victor Shade, died shortly after being rushed into emergency surgery.

You had scanned and searched the records for more information, perhaps on Wanda’s pregnancy, or even the severity of her injuries. But, and you were nearly certain this wasn’t a coincidence, the majority of the pages were missing.

It didn’t take you long to guess who most likely had a perfectly manicured hand in that.

Agatha Harkness was single-handedly the most pompous, deceitful, domineering individual you had ever encountered, but she was also the most intentional. Every movement she made was calculated, and you knew she had these papers for a reason.

You weren’t Agatha, nor would you wish that particular curse on your worst enemy, but you knew her better than anyone. Or at least you did, for a time.

Closing your eyes as you rested at your desk, you briefly recollected how intimately acquainted you once were, before remembering how much had changed in the time since.

As you opened your eyes, they landed on the files and a small voice in the back of your head suggested you try calling Agatha. Just to give them back to her.

You did already get all the useful information that was available, you reasoned. Knowing Agatha, she’d likely question why you had waited so long, but you already had an excuse for that.

You were fairly busy after all, and your paralegal was on vacation, so your normally clear desk now had a mountain-sized pile of papers that made your head spin if you stared at it for too long. If Agatha complained you’d just lie and say they had gotten lost until you sorted through everything.

Besides, you thought bitterly, Agatha lied to you plenty, about things of far greater importance than this.

Checking the time on your phone, you wondered if nine pm on a Friday night was too late for a phone call, but Agatha had always been nocturnal, often working until the early hours of the morning. You used to find her passed out, slumped over her desk in the home office of the apartment you shared, and you’d drag her back to bed.

Your cheeks grew hot at the reminder of how you’d convinced her to follow you.

Clearing those thoughts from your mind you scrolled through your contact list until you landed on her name. There were a handful of times over the years where you considered deleting it, or blocking her number. But there was this unyielding force within you, prohibiting you from ever following through with it.

Knowing Agatha you wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow cursed you.

Your stomach did sickening flip flops as your index finger trembled, hovering over her name. This is ridiculous, you reasoned, finally pressing down, turning on the speaker setting as you set your phone on the edge of your desk.

Unfortunately, instead of a familiar ringing noise, you were alarmed to hear an automated message, telling you that the number had been disconnected, before the line went dead.

She changed her number?

Your heart sank as you stared at the bright glow of your phone screen, the contact seeming to mock you. Letting out an agitated sigh, you snatched the device, holding it in your palm. Your hands were unsteady, and you hesitated for a moment, eyes locked on her name. The purple heart that accompanied it had been your idea, her signature color. It felt fitting at the time.

Without another thought, you swiped your finger to the right, permanently deleting the contact before shutting your phone off and tossing it in your bag, leaving your office without another thought.

She changed her number.

You’d like to say you spent your weekend with your work laptop and phone shut off, enjoying your two days away from the office. But that would be a bold faced lie. You wouldn’t call yourself a workaholic, on the contrary your hours weren’t nearly as intense as when you were still in corporate law.

Billable hours were a gift from the devil herself, truly.

You weren’t a workaholic, but you were a perfectionist. It was a matter of pride to be detail oriented, to be willing to go the extra mile and find the smallest flaw in a case. It’s what drew you over to the litigation side of things to begin with. Contracts, as thrilling as they could be, didn’t provide the rush of adrenaline being in court granted you.

It was ironic, you swore up and down this side of law could never interest you, but now you couldn’t imagine practicing anything else.

Well, you could, at times, as brief flashes of conversations with the one person you’d felt safe enough to share them with replayed in your brain. But that was a dream you’d given up on a long time ago, among other things.

As it turned out, time could change a lot.

When Monday morning came rolling around, you repeatedly hit snooze on your alarm, not quite feeling rested from your weekend. You took your time for once, even making yourself breakfast. With your paralegal still on vacation you realized how dependent you had become on her for the smallest of things, meals included.

You should really talk about getting her a raise.

Despite your leisurely start to your morning, you were still out the door before most of the city was awake. You loved the chaos of Manhattan, the crowds of people and thralls of traffic were a warm contrast to the environment you had grown up in. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy a morning commute that took under a half hour, as your Lyft zoomed through the relatively light traffic for a Monday morning.

Since you worked all weekend your email inbox was manageable, and you marked a few messages to reply to later that morning. You were thankful for the lighter workload, as it allowed you to solely concentrate on your case.

The ticking time bomb of the one month continuance wasn’t something you wanted to worry about just yet.

Strolling into your building, you were unsurprised to find you were the first person to arrive for the morning. Walking past some of the potted plants near your office door, you frowned, stopping in front of them and examining tiny droplets of water on the leaves.

Did someone water them recently?

Maybe one of the janitorial staff did it, you concluded, shaking the thought from your mind as you fumbled around for your keys. Pulling them out from your pocket, you went to unlock the door, but were alarmed to find the door was already unlocked.

You didn’t have to open the door fully to know she was there, but you did anyway.

Swinging the door open, you found Agatha already in your office. Only this time she was sitting at your desk, her feet perched up on the edge, her shiny black loafers reflected by the light. She was engrossed in reading something, her thick black rimmed glasses hanging low on her nose.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” you hissed, slamming the door shut behind you.

Agatha didn’t look up from whatever she was reading, but you watched her lip curl upwards, forming a cruel smirk. “Good morning to you too, dear. Muffin?”

It was then you noticed the box of baked goods on the edge of your desk. The sweet aroma of pumpkin and chocolate wafted through the room, they were always your favorite.

No. You knew what she was doing.

“I already ate, thanks,” you coolly replied, dropping your work bag near the door, before locking it. “You can’t keep breaking into my office. Do you have any idea what my colleagues would say if they saw you coming and going?”

Agatha hummed, dramatically flipping the page, and you felt a wave of anger rush through you.

“That sounds more like your problem than mine,” Agatha unhelpfully pointed out, finally setting her papers down to look up at you, and removing her glasses. “Although to be fair, it’s almost insulting how easy it is to get in here. You should really talk to someone about investing in more advanced security measures.”

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, folding your arms across your chest.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Agatha asked, fake pouting as she put her arms behind her head, the bottom of her dress shirt riding up, exposing her toned stomach.

Agatha gave you a sly grin, and you quickly averted your eyes. She was unbelievable, really.

You don’t know what you ever saw in her.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath.

“What are you doing here, Agatha?”

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Agatha explained, kicking her feet off your desk, standing up. She pulled what she was reading up from a stack of papers, waving it in front of you. “You had something of mine.”

The file she had left behind.

You fell quiet, and Agatha took the opportunity to approach you, tilting her head to the side.

“What a naughty girl, keeping something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Ignoring the embarrassing rush of heat that threatened to pool between your thighs, you glowered at her.

“Save it, Agatha. You left those here and I had no way of getting in touch with you,” you spat out, quickly losing whatever patience you had attempted to hold onto. “Who the hell changes their number nowadays?”

You froze, and Agatha’s eyes widened for a brief moment, before taking a step closer to you, stroking her chin with her thumb.

“I should feel flattered you saved my number all these years later,” Agatha teased, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You tensed at her change of tone, her words having too strong of an impact on you.

“Is everything a joke to you?”

Agatha paused, thinking over your words, a calculated grin forming as her blue eyes gleamed. “No, actually. The spousal support I owe my ex wife, for example? Not funny at all, although I’m sure she gets quite the kick out of it.”

You found it rather unsurprising that Agatha managed to marry someone even more deranged than she was, but the difference being you actually liked the ex wife more than the attorney in question.

You’d probably have gone mad as well if you had ended up marrying her.

“You have your papers, get the hell out of my office,” you ordered, not in the mood to continue arguing with her.

Frowning, Agatha set the file on your desk, coming closer to you as she brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in, breath hot against your skin.

“Do you really want me to leave? If I recall, you used to enjoy our little games.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the pleasurable sensation of her voice echoing in your ear, as you rubbed your thighs together, wishing she didn’t cause this strong of a reaction anytime she spoke to you.

“I want nothing to do with you,” you reminded her, stifling a gasp as the attorney blew in your ear.

“Are you sure?” Agatha mocked, her fingers playfully tugging on your blazer. “You’re so stressed, not that I blame you. Imminent doom tends to leave one feeling tightly wound.”

“I hate you,” you breathed out, but your words held no weight as you didn’t move away from her touch.

“Yes, good,” Agatha cooed, pushing you backwards until your back hit the desk, towering over you. “More of that.”

This needed to stop, you knew it needed to stop. Each time you let her back in it did more harm than good. She was parasitic, infecting you with the need to be consumed by her and her alone.

“Agatha,” you protested, shifting your weight around, unintentional brushing against her pelvis, and your eyes widened, shooting her an incredulous look. “You didn’t.”

Agatha feigned innocence, pressing her hips flush against yours, and you moaned at the direct contact, feeling the strap she was packing under her pants. “I didn't do what, dear?”

Your body betrayed you as you craved more friction, and Agatha leered, situating her hands on your hips to help you grind against her. Each roll of your hips made you lose whatever sense of self control you were barely grasping onto. The reminders of why this was dangerous territory slipping away as Agatha’s grip on your hip tightened.

The attorney raised one of her hands to roughly grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at her.

Gasping, you closed your eyes, not wanting to look at her. “You seriously put that thing on to come over here?”

“Bold of you to assume I wore this for you,” Agatha murmured in your ear and your eyes shot open, glowering at her.

Your taste in women was truly questionable.

“I hate you,” you said, choking back a whine as Agatha’s lips latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking on your exposed skin.

“I know you do,” Agatha said mockingly, the hand she had on your hip, moving to the front of your dress slacks, skillfully unbuttoning them. “That’s why I can smell you, isn’t it?”

“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, wriggling out of your pants as they fell around your knees, letting out a pathetic whine as Agatha ran two fingers over your underwear.

“Soaking through your panties like a whore,” Agatha growled, moving the thin fabric aside to touch your aching cunt, feeling how soaked you were. “Is all of this for me?”

“Fuck,” you moaned, head falling back as you gave in to her once more. “Agatha, please.”

Agatha moved her fingers through your slick, finding your clit with ease as she rubbed, kissing the sensitive spot under your jaw. “Please what?”

Bucking your hips up you tried to indicate what you needed, and Agatha seemed to take the hint, teasing your entrance and you let out a guttural moan, trying to fuck yourself on her fingers.

Letting out a disapproving hum, Agatha removed her fingers, smirking when you cried out in disappointment. She raised her hand, her fingers dripping as they circled your mouth as you parted your lips.

“Suck,” Agatha whispered, forcing you to take her fingers in your mouth. “Show mommy that you deserve her cock.”

Your cunt clenched at that, the ache becoming more unbearable every second you were left empty. Greedily taking her fingers you sucked them clean, whining at the taste of yourself on your tongue. Agatha let out a low groan as she forced them deeper down your throat, fucking your mouth.

“Such a good slut,” Agatha praised pulling her fingers out, lightly slapping your cheek. “So obedient when your mouth is full. You just want something to suck on, don’t you honey?”

Breathless, you barely recognized the sound of the whimper that escaped your lips. Agatha released you from her grasp, moving to settle into your high-backed leather office chair, index finger curling in a come hither motion, beckoning you to join her.

“On your knees,” Agatha ordered, removing her slacks to reveal her strap-on.

The dark purple cock was thick, and bigger than what you had grown accustomed to taking in the past few years, and you felt your cunt clench at the thought of having it inside you, stretching you out. Mouth watering you dropped to your knees, and Agatha leaned back in the chair, wrapping her hands around your hair to position where she wanted to.

“Desperate fucking whore,” Agatha degraded you, each word making you drip more than the last. “Make mommy come and I’ll consider fucking that greedy pussy.”

Wasting no time you eagerly leaned forward, tongue swiping out to lick at the head of the toy. Patience had never been the attorney’s strong suit, and she tugged on your hair, forcing you to take more of the cock down your throat.

“Fuck, good girl,” Agatha moaned, eyes locked on your own as she watched you struggle to take so much at once. “So pretty for mommy when you struggle.”

Her words served as encouragement for you to put on a show, forcing yourself to take her to the hilt. Choking around the strap you felt tears begin to swell in your eyes as you breathed through your nose, and Agatha groaned louder than before.

“That’s it baby. Swallow me,” Agatha hissed, fucking your face as her hips thrusted harder than before, getting off on using you as her own personal sex toy.

Swearing, Agatha’s hips stilled, face contorted in pleasure as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head, fingers intertwined in your hair as she tugged on the strands to the point where you let out a muffled moan. Panting, the older woman released her grip on your hair, signaling you were allowed to remove your mouth.

Her strap was covered in your saliva as you caught your breath, but Agatha didn’t allow you much time to recover, a feral look in her eyes as she rose from her chair, yanking you up by the hair to face her. The attorney’s blue eyes were clouded with lust as she impatiently spun you around, bending you over your desk.

The humiliation of being exposed this way was too much, and came to the conclusion you could get off like this alone. You didn’t have to look at Agatha to know she was smirking, pulling on your hair again to make you arch your back.

“Tell me you missed this,” Agatha murmured into your ear, hands groping every inch of your body she could reach. “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You were almost too far gone to fully think about the implication of what she was saying, but not enough to give in so easily.

“You wish,” you threw out, moaning louder at Agatha’s responding slap against your ass.

“Tell me,” Agatha growled, spanking you again, harder than before, cackling at the way your body reacted to it. “So fucking pathetic, no one else can fuck you like this, can they? ”

You remained silent, trying to restrain yourself from climaxing before you felt her inside you again. Agatha spanked you a third time, the slapping sound echoing throughout your office.

“I’ll give you one more chance,” Agatha threatened, and you could tell she was just as far gone as you. “Tell me you missed this.”

“I…I missed this,” you breathed out, the unsaid words hanging heavy in the room, as both you and Agatha knew what you really meant. What she was really asking.

You missed her.

Agatha rubbed the tip of the strap up and down your cunt, and you whined. She had been torturing you with the teasing, all you wanted was for her to be inside you.

“Mommy, please,” you said, nearly crying.

Without warning Agatha pushed inside your entrance in one thrust, making you take her to the hilt. You nearly screamed, her strap almost painfully deep and your walls fluttered around it. You were so full, the only thought on your mind was how you wanted her to stay inside you forever.

Giving you a moment to adjust to her size, Agatha tugged on your hair again, kissing your neck as her hips rested flush against yours. After a few moments she began to move, thrusting slow but deep, staying buried in your cunt.

“That’s it baby, squeeze my cock,” Agatha moaned, making you feel every inch of her. “Good fucking girl.”

“Mommy,” you whimpered, listening to the obscene sound of your hips thrusting against each other, the noise filling the office.

“No one else knows what a slut you are, do they?” Agatha mocked, increasing her pace as she fucked you even harder. “You’re just mommy’s little cocksleeve.”

“Fuck yes,” you moaned, feeling a familiar tightening as your cunt pulsed around the attorney’s cock.

“Say it,” Agatha grunted out, moving at an erratic pace. “Say you’re mommy’s cocksleeve.”

“I’m mommy’s cocksleeve,” you said obediently, relishing in the deep groan that left Agatha’s lips, the sound causing you to clench.

You were so close, you could feel it.

Agatha could tell you were nearing your peak, as she wrapped an arm around your waist, lithe fingers finding your clit and rubbing in time with her unwavering thrusts. Every second teetering you closer to falling off the edge of pleasure.

“Do you want something?” Agatha teased, as you were left breathless after a particularly hard thrust.

“Please,” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded. “Please I need to…”

“You need what, slut?” Agatha jeered, removing her fingers from your clit, bringing her hand to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “What do you want?”

“Mommy, please,” you pleaded, gasping as the attorney choked you, the delicious burn nearly causing you to finish.

“Come for mommy, baby,” Agatha said, voice hoarse as she kept her hand wrapped around your throat. “Soak my cock.”

You felt yourself let go, body rippling in pleasure as you came, sporadically moving your hips to meet Agatha’s thrusts as she helped you through your orgasm. The attorney grunted before her hips stilled against yours with one final deep stroke, staying inside you as you came down from your high.

Removing her hand from your throat, Agatha stroked your cheek, a stark contrast to how roughly she just fucked you. You let out a deep sigh, collapsing against your desk. It was unclear how long she stayed inside you before she pulled out, chuckling at your little whimpers from being left empty.

“I never understood why you enjoyed running so much,” Agatha said suddenly, body still pressed against yours as she left kisses on every inch of bare skin she could find. “I’ve always found this to be a much more…pleasurable form of cardio.”

You laughed, the sound echoing throughout the room as you felt your heart rate begin to go back to normal. “Funny, Agatha. Very funny.”

Peeling herself off of you, the attorney gently turned you around before settling back in your chair, allowing you to rest on her lap.

“That was…” Agatha trailed off, brushing your damp hair out of your face.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. Agatha didn’t have to finish her thoughts, you knew what she was implying.

You wish this could be easier, this gravitational pull you had towards one another; that things weren’t so majorly twisted between the two of you that you could invite Agatha to dinner and try again. Or to even just have a conversation that didn’t start with an argument and end with both of you naked.

But that wasn’t the reality of the situation, which finally came back to you as you finally caught your breath.

This couldn’t keep happening.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on,” you said suddenly, clearing your throat as you got off the attorney’s lap. “Um, thanks for…”

“For the muffins?” Agatha jested, avoiding your eyes as she stood up, helping you find your clothes. “Your sweet tooth is hard to forget.”

You smiled for a moment, a bittersweet feeling overtaking you as you let her words hit you.

“Yeah, for the muffins.”

Agatha finished redressing, her brown hair splayed messily over her shoulders as she unsuccessfully attempted to tame it. You grabbed a spare hair tie from a drawer in your desk, and held it up to her. Agatha nodded, turning around, allowing you to gather her hair and pull it back. You swore you heard her sigh as your fingers combed through the tousled locks, but you quickly secured it, taking a step back.

The attorney turned back around, an uncertain expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed, her frown line becoming more prominent as she stared at you, deep blue eyes boring into your own.

“You read the hospital records,” Agatha stated, in a tone so certain you questioned why she chose to say it at all.

“Of course not,” you lied, but Agatha’s piercing gaze saw right through you as she arched an eyebrow. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did.”

“And?” Agatha prompted, looking expectantly at you.

“And what?” You questioned, motioning to where the file lay abandoned on the opposite side of your desk. “The majority of the pages are missing. There’s nothing useful there.”

Agatha’s eyes shifted, looking to the ground for just a second, and when she looked back up her signature smirk had returned. “Of course, right as always, dear. I’ll see you in court.”

She snatched the file in her hands before leaving your office, slamming the door shut, leaving you alone, and wondering what the hell just happened. A sinking feeling in your gut was suggesting this case was far more complicated than you had been led to believe.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha harkness x fem!reader

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bakugoushotwife · 10 months ago

Text

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

↪↪↪ cw: minors dni, dark content ahead. each chapter will come with its own set of specific warnings. true form sukuna, yuujikuna, timeskip/reincarnation themed. heian era into the modern storyline. gore, murder, cannibalism, weapons, blood, slight blood/knife play, reader is lowkey crazy, made up technique for you, very selfship coded at that, pregnancy, death of characters including reader but we come back, miscarriage/infant loss, i'm just making up sukuna lore, smut, uh he's sukuna please be serious, proceed with caution!

↪↪↪ summary: you welcome the feared sorcerer ryomen sukuna into your settlement, hoping he'll spare your village from his conquering streak. what you—and he—did not expect was a wedding two weeks later. sukuna never does anything halfway, and marrying you is no exception. he is a doting husband and then expecting father, until you unexpectedly pass away...the grief turns him from a raging sorcerer into a scheming and scorned widower. he can't stand the idea of anyone living if he doesn't have you. he comes up with the idea of turning himself into a curse on his war for revenge, and patiently waits for his time to return—to burn the world down forever. one thousand years later, his energy sings to life again, in a miserable excuse of a sorcerer—a boy named yuuji itadori. sukuna is ready to enact his plan, to exterminate everyone and hopefully find you somewhere on the other side of things when it's all over. what he didn't account for was you; again. he doesn't believe it at first—but yuuji's best friend was...you?

↪↪↪ notes from the author: hi hi!! i have been dreaming this dream for a while now, and i get to live it every day thanks to my beautiful and amazing roleplay partner and overall wifey extraordinaire, @suguru-getos . we've played with this idea when we wanted to figure out a way to give sukuna and myself something to stand on because in all reality he'd likely squash me like a gnat if he met me so this was something fun we came up with. i love the idea of sukuna the human having some redeeming moments and knowing love and pure happiness and for that to be a driving force for him to become a curse! once again this will have dark content so proceed at your own risks and read the individualized content warnings for each chapter!!

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖗𝖆

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓 𝖊𝖗𝖆

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

⇝ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖝: 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...

↯↯↯ comment to be tagged!! banners are by @/cafekitsune

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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Friendcation (m) | myg | series masterlist

Going camping with your best friends seemed like a brilliant idea when you initially made the plans. But when you harbor secret feelings for one of them, what will become of you being close confined for three months? Trouble, that’s what.

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Trope: friends to best friends with benefits to lovers (they be messy and confused, lol) → AUs: non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!au (Yoongi is a mechanic) → Genre: humor, (slight) angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 131.6K (things got out of hand, lol and it's mainly smut 💀) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Warnings/tags: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain smut, almost in every chapter (not the first though). → Taglist: Closed. → Status: Completed! (I'm still doing some extras for it now and then)

🍃 Chapter 1 Summary: As exhaustion and stress threaten to consume you and your friends at work, Yoongi comes to the rescue with an enticing proposal: a collective vacation—a friendcation. Amid the backdrop of breathtaking landscapes and shared adventures, your feelings for him only deepens more. Yet, his lingering gaze holds secrets you can't ignore, leaving you to wonder if it conceals something deeper—an unspoken connection that may forever alter your friendship. Word count: 11,9K | Read → chapter one 🍃Chapter 2 Summary: When you get a flat tire, you think it’s bad luck, but when you fall flat on your ass and Yoongi offers to massage the pain away, has your luck finally turned? 😜 Word count: 12.7K | Read → chapter two 🍃Chapter 3 Summary: When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits? Word count: 11.9K | Read → chapter three 🍃Chapter 4 Summary: It’s the last weeks of the vacation being just you and Yoongi, and you’re going to savor every last bit of it. You do some hiking, relaxing and discover new sides to yourself that you didn’t know existed. Word count: 17.7K | Read → chapter four 🍃Chapter 5 Summary: Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin have finally joined you on your trip and it’s going great; you have a tremendous amount of fun (some at your expense), laughter and talks about life. Namjoon suddenly asks you where you think this thing with Yoongi is heading, and to be honest you don’t really know yourself – you just know that you love him. Word count: 23K | Read → chapter five 🍃Chapter 6 Summary: Your vacation is coming to an end but your thoughts are spiraling and filled with anxiety as a tiny mishap makes you question your future with Yoongi. Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter six 🍃Chapter 7 [finale] Summary: Melancholy shrouds you and Yoongi in your last days of vacation – time to get back home to the daily grind. But when you can visit Yoongi in his garage, is it really so bad? Word count: 11.3K | Read → chapter seven

🍃Extras🍃

🍃Wedding special Summary: Yoongi has done everything in his power to make your wedding truly special, what he couldn’t plan for was the rain. But fret not, a bit of rain will not make your day less special when it’s surrounded by friends and family. And your wedding night? Well, being pushed down into the sheets by Yoongi is easily one of your favorite things. Word count: 12.2k | Read → the wedding special

🍃Honeymoon special Summary: You and Yoongi travel to Scandinavia for your honeymoon, well more like babymoon. You camp, fish, hike and enjoy nature as you always do, and you even go surfing! Word count: 8.7k | Read → the honeymoon special

🍃Pregnancy special Summary: You and Yoongi try to get pregnant, but it doesn’t go as planned, as the road isn’t easy. But he’s your rock, and he’ll stand with you through thick and thin 💜 Word count: 7.5k | Read → the pregnancy special

🍃Winter special Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives? OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car. Word count: 10.3k | Read → the winter special

🍃Baby special Summary: Yoongi spends time with your daughter. Word count: 3.5k | Read → the baby special

→ Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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meownotgood · 10 months ago

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under the influence / hayakawa aki

When Aki gets dragged to the most popular strip club in Tokyo in hopes it'll help him "de-stress", against all odds, you help him do just that. In return, he finally cures your itch for something more.

CHAPTER TWO — PINK LEMONADE MIMOSA

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 75.3k

tags (for this chapter): 18+, aki is a virgin, reader is a stripper, strangers to lovers, literally so much smut, semi-public sex, body worship, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms (from both parties), orgasm control, fingering, creampie, virginity loss / virgin kink, cumplay, overstimulation, riding, doggy style, missionary, reader is shorter than aki, reader has nipple piercings, reader has a bit of experience, lots of praise + teasing + dirty talk (giving and receiving), switchy aki, reader is touch-starved and has had shitty relationships in the past, the smallest hint of coercion (reader convinces aki to do it without a condom, he's into it tho), the smallest hint of bloodplay (reader bites aki's lip so hard it bleeds, he's also very into it)

masterlist.

read on ao3

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

You're finally starting to realize just how far you've come since this night first began.

Aki Hayakawa has grown from a stranger who's name you fortunately happened to catch on his ID, to a man you've grown closer to than you ever could've expected. In between it all, your relationship has morphed into something you can't even begin to put your finger on. It's something more — much more — than what you were to each other at the start, that's all you know.

In the short time you've spent together, after everything you've both been through and after everywhere this has gone, what your heart holds for him is nothing you've ever felt before, not for anyone. You aren't used to a softness this genuine. You know he isn't, either. This could blossom into more, for the both of you, if you're foolish enough to let it.

Maybe that's exactly what you're hoping for.

Truthfully, this scares you, almost. There's an ache in his shape gnawing at your chest and begging for more, for a closeness and a sweetness you didn't know you could crave. For the deliberate tenderness he's already given you a taste of, and the spark in your system you've felt since minute one; the kind you only get when you know you're alive.

And really, as crazy and unpredictable as this night has been, it's not like you didn't see this coming. You did, and you didn't.

Of course you knew most of what you'd be getting into, no matter how innocent you tried to play. You can't drag a handsome devil hunter to the club's private bedrooms and still expect nothing to happen. You knew he'd be inexperienced, and when it comes to this, you figured he'd be timid to the point where you'd have to show him the ropes. You knew that, but if it meant getting closer to him, you were fine with it. More than fine with it. The only thing you didn't know was the true extent of his naivete.

You're not upset, not disappointed. Not mad or disgusted. Not any of the things he might've assumed you would be if he'd worked up the guts to tell you himself. After all, it's just sex.

No, if anything, you're amused. You're excited. You might be wrong. Maybe you're jumping the gun. Either way, you can't get your heart to stop pounding. Fluttery and eager and incessant in your ears, your chest feels hot and your head is light. When you place your palm onto his cheek, he's burning up, as warm to the touch as you are. The intensity you've felt in the minutes past comes rushing back to you in waves.

He must have the wrong impression of you. He's wrong, if he really thinks whatever amount of inexperience he has would make you care about him any less.

Perhaps Aki is far from what you first expected out of him, too. If anything, you could have never predicted this night to turn out this way with him, not one bit. The sex, maybe you saw that coming. But the feelings you have towards Aki as you've come to know him? Never.

He needs this. For once, you want him to let go, to forget. You're going to give him a gentle taste of love, of a world more divine. Now that you think about it, you've needed this too.

You're greedy for neglecting everything else to be with him, common sense and the rest of your job. You shouldn't, not when you know once you have him, you aren't going to be able to let him go. But who is going to blame you?

This is the most entertained, the most relaxed and comfortable you've ever been in the entirety of your time working here. Aki is a tenderness worth holding close, he isn't calm or collected at all, he isn't what he shows on the surface. He's soft and he's scared, he might seem composed but he's no more experienced than any of the strip club's regulars, he's sweet and kind and perfect and he's so —

"You're so dramatic."

"What?"

A pin drops; Aki's expression turns to confusion, his brows knit up with a slight yet unmistakable tinge of annoyance. You're starting to laugh and he stares up at you expectantly, wide-eyed.

The grin you give him nearly takes his breath away. Playful and purely ecstatic, tugging at the strings of his heart without even trying. You aren't taking him seriously, but that's alright. That's a relief.

"Stop," You half-heartedly push at his chest, "You don't have to be so embarrassed. It's not like I'm judging or anything. I wouldn't do that."

His voice has already regained its usual steeliness. It feels good to hear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never had sex before?"

"I…"

Ah, you've got him. And you aren't wasting any time, you're ripping the bandaid off right away; whether it was the brazenness of your words, or whether it was because he didn't expect you'd find him out so soon, your question takes him off guard. His shoulders stiffen up, a telling heat blossoms from under his cheeks. Everything caught in his throat, thick and blistering, he can't speak. He glances up towards you, and even without a proper answer, the look on his face tells you all you need to know.

So, you were right.

"Aki, what's wrong?"

He's really starting to lose his composure. Aki's face is red from his cheeks to his ears and even though he can't see it, he can feel the way the flush travels even further, across his chest and beneath his collar. He tries to sit up but it's no use; he's blocked by your firm palm on his chest and your weight in his lap.

Aki groans, flopping back, covering his face with both hands. "This is stupid."

You carefully grab his wrists and guide his hands away, and he keeps them limp, moving them without a fight.

"You're the only one who's stupid." You counter.

Aki visibly pouts. "Let me up."

You won't. You think you'll do the exact opposite, actually. Aki opens his mouth — to spout another protest is your best guess — but you shut him up with your lips on his, before either of you can find out.

Immediately, he chokes out a surprised sort of noise, vibrations muffled by your mouth, but then he's relaxing, tilting his head to the tune of your own. Thumb and forefinger grasping his chin, you kiss him softly, intensely. Aki lets himself melt into it, his eyes closing, fingertips grazing your cheek as he kisses back. The world stops turning for a few fleeting seconds. When you pull away, he's calm, his eyes are deep, hazed over. He scans your face, he waits for you to say something.

"You're way too serious."

Aki blinks, eyelids heavy. He wishes you'd quit the embarrassing talk, and simply kiss him again.

Your tone is quieter this time when you tell him, "None of that is a big deal to me, you know? Quit acting like it is."

Your gaze is difficult to keep meeting. Aki looks past where you sit on top of him. He glances down towards the end of the bed, where the sheets have grown untucked and messy from what he can only assume is yours and his fault. A couple seconds go by, and then a few seconds more. Your finger taps his cheek. He doesn't reply.

You scoff, but it's unconvincing. This time, your fingers drift down, skating either side of his neck. The rosy-purple marks flushing the surface of his skin look prettiest when they're underneath your fingertips.

"What do you want me to do?" Earnest and tender, your words recapture his attention. "I promised you I'd give you whatever you wanted, right? So tell me the truth."

Aki glances towards your gaze, finally. He answers without skipping a beat, "Whatever you want to do."

"Dumbass, I'm asking you." When your fingers start to trace underneath his collar you resist the urge to grab a fistful and shake him by it. To your disappointment, he looks away again, seemingly unfazed, but you don't miss how the bridge of his nose subtly crinkles.

You sigh. "I just want you to be honest with me. Can't you do that?"

"I don't… I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with doing."

"Stop it. I want this, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't. And I want to do whatever's gonna make you happy. Whatever will make you forget about all those stupid little stresses you've got swirling around in your head."

Aki's lips purse into a thin, taut line.

His weight shifts as you fling your arms around him, elbows resting on his shoulders. You're continuing, "I want you to enjoy yourself. You deserve to enjoy yourself. Do you not think so?"

Now, it's Aki's turn to sigh. He looks back towards you, expression softer than before. He watches with his breath caught in his lungs as you lean in, fingers toying with his hair but refusing to give him the satisfaction of running through.

You're quiet. So quiet, so alluring it makes his head spin; "Tell me what you want Aki, tell me, and I'll give it to you. Anything at all."

Anything.

Oh, there's so much he wants, he's longed for more from you in this past hour than he's ever wanted for himself in his whole pathetic life. He hates this feeling and loves it at the same time: adores the addicting river of desire flowing through his veins, despises how it itches and claws at his chest until it aches. A desperate sense of need chokes up his throat, goading him to beg for things he never thought he'd be begging for. He hates that he wants to be cherished, hates how badly he needs to feel like he's sitting right in your soft spot.

The feeling of want is a lot to contend with for someone who's barely ever wanted anything. When he was younger, he wanted his brother to get better, wanted his family to be happy. When he got older, he believed he didn't deserve to want for them to come back.

"I- I think I…"

This isn't as simple as you, or even as he first made it out to be. It could have been, but he's gone and made feelings for himself he can't chase away. Because as much as he's tried to be strong and composed and resistant, ultimately, he's weak. Weak and lonely, relying on you to fill in the blanks. Weak enough to fall for you when he knows he shouldn't, for your kind touches and even kinder words. Enough to crave more, more than he believes he deserves.

Maybe that's alright. He can quell his shaking heart, he can pretend things are simple. Just for tonight, he supposes.

You told him you wished for him not to think about work, or devils, or hardships. Or anything outside of this room and what's happening right now. He's always been the type to look towards the past and the future, never focus on the present. But for tonight, he thinks he should. He'll have regrets if he doesn't. And he's been through enough to know regrets are always worse than whatever comes before them.

He promised himself he wouldn't hesitate. A half-hearted promise, really. It might be time to make good on that.

Breath sharply quickening, Aki finally concedes, "I want to… Think I want to keep going. Like you said."

"Yeah? You want more?"

Your voice tickles the shell of his ear, you're right, but it's more than humiliating to have his own words deciphered and tossed back in his face. His eyelids are getting heavy. His chest tingles like fireworks about to explode, and his limbs go limp.

"Yeah. I do."

"We can take it slow. Take our time." Right against his ear, you whisper such sweet words, your fingers curl in the roots of his hair and the sensation is oh-so pleasant, "I want to make this about you. We can do whatever you're comfortable with, and stop when you've had enough. How does that sound?"

"Good. That sounds good." Aki swallows, nodding.

The mattress dips slightly as you shift, pushing back up again, palms flat on his chest to steady yourself. "Then I promise I'll take care of you. Okay?"

When you look at his face, Aki's got his lips pursed up into something of a pout, he's clearly unsure or nervous or embarrassed, maybe a combination of the three. But regardless, he doesn't falter, he nods again.

"Okay."

"Don't look so nervous." You're sliding down slowly to give yourself more room, moving to straddle his thighs, "All you need to worry about is making sure you enjoy yourself. And if there's anything you're scared of, just tell me. I'll show you what to do."

Aki exhales a steady puff of air. "Got it."

Reaching up, you start by unbuttoning his shirt. You stretch forwards to pop the top-most button, then the second one down, then the one after that. Aki's thighs squirm slightly as your weight repositions on top of them. His gaze darts from your face to your hands, his vision going blurry at the edges, and he breathes in deep to keep it refocused.

Already, you're tugging his shirt from his shoulders and he's following along before he has a chance to think about it, pulling his arms from each sleeve. He sits up, allowing you to yank the dress shirt free from his back. You gently toss it aside on the bed once you're finished.

You waste no time pressing your palms flat to his bare stomach. He flinches instinctually from the contact, but soon, he's melting into it. Your hands are surprisingly warm, even warmer as you start to glide them up, bringing them to his chest, causing him to relax and sink further into the mattress. Your thumbs brush over the faint muscles in his abdomen. You feel out the ridges of his ribs when he breathes in, the expanse of his chest, needy fingertips dip into the curve of his collarbones — Your touch spreads warmth and flickering sparks in its wake.

Aki swallows the thick lump forming in his throat. His heartbeat rings in his ears like a church bell; you trace your fingers along a deep scar traveling the length of his shoulder. Your fingernails tickle the surface, and he's expelling a nice, deep sigh, closing his eyes as he gives himself up to you.

That's it. You're whispering, voice quiet, only a figment, See? No reason to be anxious. I've got you.

It's your job to make people relax, isn't it? Yet Aki still finds himself wondering how you got to be so damn good at it.

You trace his arms in the same way you did once before, palms traveling up each one. You squeeze his shoulders, massage them a little until he's sighing, going down further to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing the faintest circles into his skin. His figure is as handsome as you were expecting: thin and stronger than he looks, muscle in his back and his shoulders, pale skin scattered with long, faded scars. Aki looks down — You're shifting back, leaning in. He sucks in a breath of anticipation, he sees you press your lips to his stomach, and feels you kiss right above his waist line.

Again, you kiss closer to his side, you go upwards to place one over where his sternum would be, and then a kiss on his shoulder, one onto his throat — he's shivering, his eyes are closing. You press one on the shell of his ear, one over a mismatched scar on his chest. Each touch is rippling water: trembling, echoing.

He can hardly handle this; you're leaving kisses over all the places no-one has ever touched before, no-one but you. No-one but blood and bruises and devils. There's never been room for anything this soft.

He feels like he's dying. Dying and coming back to life. Or perhaps both, simultaneously. It would be nice if he could feel exactly like this when he dies.

You're so pretty, Aki.

One hand rising to cup his cheek and tilt his head upward, the other dips lower, fingertips snaking underneath his slacks to barely brush the waistband of his briefs. Aki almost doesn't hear you. His eyes go misty, and he thinks for a second he just might cry.

You really are so soft, treating him softer, safer than anything he's ever known. He was supposed to be keeping things simple, but when it's this easy for you to tug at him, he finds it impossible to keep his brain from scrambling into a complicated, wound-up knot.

You're still going, dragging your hands down his sides. His skin tingles, your fingertips caress every one or his scars, each of his little insecurities. How long has he waited, needed to feel this, without even knowing? How long has his heart eaten away at itself, desperate for something just like this?

"You okay?"

Your hands have frozen, he realizes. The familiar sound of your voice, louder than before, brings him back to reality.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

You part his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes and tucking them behind his ears. You prop yourself up and lean your elbows onto his chest until they're close to digging in.

"You know," You're saying, the faintest tinge of a smile tugging at your cheeks, "I feel special, getting to see you like this."

Aki blinks, doesn't answer.

"I wanna make you happy. You're important to me. I want to make you feel special too, Aki." Fingertips drumming a rhythm on his shoulder, your lips ghost the space between the corner of his jaw and his ear, "You'll let me, won't you?"

You already have.

With a dull sort of laugh, you double over, you wrap your arms around him; you understand you're getting cheesy, a bit too sentimental for your own liking. Your voice comes out as a deep mutter, breathed right against his skin, "I bet you've never felt like that before, huh? So special."

Like this? Like the world's stopped, instead of mercilessly spinning around? No, he hasn't. This is the first time it's felt as if everything finally makes sense.

He knows it's fleeting. Aki doesn't want to think about what's going to happen when this is all over. He wants to think even less about how he probably won't see you again after tonight, how he won't be able to forget the things you've said to him, how he'll feel your touch linger on his skin for the rest of his time alive, and he'll end up cursing himself for not stretching out this moment with you for a few moments more.

Returning to his same old job, the same old nightmare, only to feel that familiar lingering pain will be even harder to bear knowing the taste he's had of something softer.

He takes a deep breath in, an even deeper breath out, and somehow manages not to tear up. He answers, "Not until now."

"I must be doing something right then, huh?"

Aki can practically feel your smile against his skin, swears he can almost hear it in your voice. You sit up, and that intoxicating grin is proven true on your face. Your hand cups his cheek and Aki, ever so pliant, finds himself leaning into your touch.

"So-"

The moment's short-lived, because you're already tearing your hand away and breaking the silence; you scooch further back, and Aki watches, complacent. His heart skips to a steady rhythm in his chest. The ghost of your touch still lingers on his cheek, tingling and warm.

"...You've really never done this before, or anything like this. Right?"

Aki doesn't answer, figures it's rhetorical. By now, you've settled on his thighs, you're reaching down for his belt. He hardly notices. He stares at the shadows — yours, his — on the ceiling and allows his mind to spin.

He's important to you. His head keeps coming back to those words in particular. Through your eyes, he'd like to see himself. Perhaps then, he'd come to treat his own well-being much kinder, gentler.

You're already fiddling with the buckle. "Why though, why haven't you?"

He merely shrugs, not having an answer. The gentle clink of metal on metal rings in his ears, and he tries not to pay too much attention.

"You ever had a girlfriend? A boyfriend?"

Aki freezes up at that: stone cold. Though it's not like he has a reason to lie.

"No. I haven't."

Cute. God, he's cute. The professional little topknot devil hunter you found yourself so intrigued by is an innocent, goody two-shoes virgin.

Carefully, you pull the metal pin from the hole in the leather, working it free. The buckle makes a satisfying jingle as you smoothly tug his belt from the loops in his slacks. Gaze focused down, you're talking while you work, "Ever been asked on a date? You're handsome, I can't imagine you never have. Do you always say no to that kind of thing?"

Aki's voice is level. "I've had a few people ask me before. But I turned them down."

"Why's that? Not interested?"

Tilting his head, eyes narrowing, he fixates on the streaky paint job adorning the adjacent wall.

"I guess not. I don't want to burden anyone. And I don't have time to go on dates, anyways."

His belt is gathered in your hands and neatly set aside onto the edge of the bed. You hook your fingers in the empty loops of his slacks, you take a moment to feel the smooth fabric beneath your palms. No reaction. Then, you're toying with the shiny silver button on the front, you're popping it — and that gets Aki to suck in a nice, sharp breath.

"A burden… How could you be a burden to anyone?" You ask him honestly. As you're pulling down his zipper, he props himself up on his elbows, and you're glancing up at his face; his brows are slightly knotted, he's looking away, he's still fronting his composure. His slacks go loose around his hips, and he presses his thighs together instinctively, holding them in place.

Matter-of-factly, like he's reading off a script rehearsed a thousand times over, he answers, "I'm not good with relationships. And either way, I'm a devil hunter. Devil hunters die on missions often. It'd be irresponsible to get involved with someone. If I die, I'd only be burdening whoever I leave behind."

"Lift your hips for me."

At the murmur of your command, Aki does so, slowly lifting his hips off the bed, enough to allow you to pull his pants past the divots of his hips, down his thighs and his bruised knees, all the way until they're left pooling at his ankles. Your thumbs hook around his waistband, touch warm on his bare skin. He doesn't notice the way you're smiling to yourself; his boxers are a soft, blue and black plaid, so fitting for him. You're barely able to resist making a comment about how cute they are.

"So you'll burden yourself, make yourself lonely to avoid hurting someone else," You meet his eyes, but for only half of a second before the creeping heat on his spine forces him to look away. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more self-sacrificing."

Trying to hide his growing nerves, Aki flexes his sweaty hands, "It's what I have to do. You'd understand more if you were in my position. If you were a devil hunter."

What he has to do. There he goes again. All of the sudden, it's like you're back at square one, remembering how you felt when you first sat beside him. How you watched him shake and wanted more than anything to hold him until he was breathing again.

You'll have him change his mind by the end of tonight, no matter what it takes.

You scoff, "Is that so?"

Your head tilts, fingertips drumming on his side, touch so faint he can hardly feel it. Aki steals a glance towards you. The hint of a smile on your face is indecipherable.

"You aren't a burden to me."

This time, he holds his gaze on you, he keeps it there. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to. His heart shouldn't skip in the way it does, instantly pounding and throttling inside his chest. You've barely said anything, but those simple, stupid words alone send him spiraling a mile a minute.

Throat dry, hands clammy, he's about to muster up the courage to ask you if you really mean that when you're sitting up, sliding off of him, smiling warmly and laughing even warmer. "And for the record, I think you'd do pretty well on a date."

He wants to, because boy does he feel awkward letting you ramble on while he stays silent, but Aki can't seem to figure out how he's supposed to respond to that, either.

'Til now, a date seemed like such a foreign concept. The kind of thing his coworkers blabber about to pass the time. The kind of thing he'd only see in movies where the world isn't as complicated, and afterwards be left to wonder if it's anything like real life.

Probably not. Life is never so simple. He shouldn't get his hopes up. A date with you might be nice, though. Your arm outstretches, your hand tightly grasps his wrist before Aki can mull over the rest of those thoughts.

"Look, c'mere." You instruct, tugging him forwards, he follows along and you pull him until he sits up the rest of the way. "Sit on the end of the bed. Make yourself comfortable."

So, Aki does. The mattress shifts as he shuffles to position at the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over. You let go of his wrist and you carelessly push his clothes onto the floor in a heavy heap to make more room for him. Your eyes lock with his, you're sinking down in front of him and — Oh. You're sinking down in front of him.

The realization alone hits him nearly as hard as the sight of you below him. When you're down on your knees, you're forced to tilt your head, peering up at him through your lashes. Aki takes deep, steady breaths, they're shakier than he expected. He can't stop his heart from beating out of his chest, his gut from stirring with warmth.

Just like that, he's finally out of his head. He was almost starting to forget what the plan was in the first place.

You're giving him no time to rest either, already messing with the waistband of his briefs, hooking your fingers around while your other hand rests on his thigh and pushes them apart. He can hardly handle this; he's red in the face, he can feel beads of sweat prickle at the back of his neck and his forehead. You drag your fingers away, his waistband gently snaps against his skin, and as your palms work their way downward, smoothly gliding across his thighs, Aki shudders from the familiar, eager pang between his legs.

It isn't even all that dirty. Aki covers his mouth with his palm, surmises he's the dirty one for already getting so worked up when the only thing you've done is get down on your knees in front of him.

You rest your cheek on his inner thigh, you stare up at him with big, soft, wide eyes; you're so pretty like this, and he's so much taller compared to you, so much larger — You're the one beneath him but God, you're still the one with all the power.

Aki is the one who's waiting with bated breath for you to give him something, anything. You've got him in the palm of your hands, and he's the one who would so easily turn the situation around at a single word from you. He'd kneel and beg for it if it's what you wanted, what you asked for him to do.

Hopeless, he's always so hopeless when it comes to you, and every little thing you do to him only makes that clearer and clearer.

"Nervous?" You coo, and Aki's quick to answer with a hasty shake of his head, denying. Your eyebrow cocks, "Yeah? You look nervous."

"I'm not." Deep and weighty, Aki inhales, letting cold, sharp air enter his lungs. You keep your eyes locked onto his and he fights every urge in his system to tear his gaze away.

"It's okay if you are."

"I'm- I'm fine. Really."

Sure, he might say that, but in the short time you've known him, you've come to learn Aki is the easiest man in the world to see through. He's more honest than he tries to be, you bet he isn't even trying to lie, more-so attempting to keep himself convinced. He isn't nervous, he can handle this. He'll be fine. All he has to do is trust you.

"Are you sure you're ready?" You're asking, tone genuine, a flash of concern in the back of your eyes, "We can keep relaxing some more instead, if you want to. I wouldn't mind."

And he does, he trusts you, he really, really does. That's why when you're asking him, even though his heart is in his throat, he's giving you a hesitant nod, he's answering with a quiet voice, "Yes. I don't want to stop."

"Promise?"

Aki swallows. "Promise."

An ambient buzz fills the room when the air conditioner kicks on. The familiar smile returns to your face, now. Your fingertip trails nonchalantly up his inner thigh, it dips under his briefs, leaving goosebumps on his leg when it dances across his bare skin.

"You aren't used to this, I know."

You stretch that last syllable out until it makes him dizzy. Your bottom lip is pouty, tone sweet but pitying, "You've never had anything like this happen to you, huh?"

Your thumbs brush his waistband again. This time, it really seems as if you're going to grab it and start to take off his briefs, in the slow, teasing way he's found fitting of you, but your hands drift right away. Aki lets go of his held breath and can't decide if he feels disappointment or relief.

He grunts softly, he shifts. He stares down at your pretty hands as they softly squeeze his thighs, and he spreads them open a little wider on impulse. Quietly, he answers you simply, "Mhmm."

"You're pretty smart though. I bet you knew this would happen all along."

"It… Maybe. Maybe it could have. I wasn't sure what the hell you were planning."

Despite your teasing, or perhaps because of it, he's still all tense, still shifting with unrest. He reaches up and presses a palm to his forehead, he feels the heat that's builded there, pushing the messy strands of hair away from his eyes. The slightest outline is tenting his boxers, fabric darkened around where it's damp. Aki breathes a long, shaky sigh, his eyelids flutter. He leans back on the heels of his palms and swallows, his throat dry, gasping from the effort.

You murmur, "Never had anyone jerk you off before?"

"Ah-"

Instantly caught off guard, Aki feels his whole face get set on fire, his cheeks burn and his head goes woozy; blood rushes between his legs and he can't say anything, he can barely even manage the hurried shake of his head. It isn't the question, not you asking what he's done. It's the insinuation of what you're about to do.

He stammers over his own tongue, trying to rush a response, "No, no that's- No."

Leaning back a bit, he forces his posture to relax, his shoulders slumping. He stares down at you and doesn't care to fix his bangs when they fall in a sweaty mess around his eyes.

Your slight grin turns into something more akin to a smirk. You've just gotta do a little dirty talking to get him into it.

"Oh, yeah?" You tilt your head, your voice lilts in a giggly, far too innocent sort of way, "You're so sweet, I can't wait to touch you. You gonna let me make you cum?"

Aki breathes an airy gasp, almost chokes, doesn't answer. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? His wrist pops when he flexes his hand too hard, he starts trying to speak but everything comes out in a stuttery mix of ah's and uhm's and eh's. He was red in the face from the very start, but now, it's so much worse; the tips of his ears almost hurt from how hot they've been burning.

Thankfully, it doesn't seem like you were expecting an answer, because you're already peering up at him and continuing on.

"I can touch you, can't I?"

Voice as sweet and as smooth as spun silk, hands delicate and light as they skate the apex of his thighs, rubbing, then squeezing — If there was no hope of denying you before, Aki stares into your sparkling eyes and knows at this point, he's utterly done for. Not like he was ever planning on stopping in the first place.

He gulps, Adam's apple heavy and bobbing in his throat. He gives you the go-ahead with a simple nod. His hips squirm and his body weight shifts back and forth as he tries to get more comfortable, ignoring the growing tension gnawing at his gut and aching in his lap. Carefully, your fingertips drag from his thigh to his waistband. Then, across to the other side, and then back again, ever-so teasingly circling where you know he wants you to touch, dancing around where he's starting to get fatter and needier beneath his briefs.

The anticipation is worse than anything. Prickling at his neck, it bites down harder and harder with each passing second.

Your voice chimes out louder than the perpetual ringing in his ears. "Tell me I can, Aki."

Aki. His name sounded nicer that time than any of the other times you've said it before. Or maybe he's losing his mind.

He is, isn't he? He knows he is, damn well. But he needs this, you're so sweet, he's been alone and he can't handle being strong anymore — So it's okay, right? It's okay to indulge, just this once?

"You can," He says, he's breathless when he tries to speak, "Please, I need you to."

He knows you can tell how badly he needs more, knows the way you're toying with him is on purpose. Your eyes never leaving his, the air trapped right in his lungs, you let the heel of your palm brush over him slightly, just barely. Almost like you did so by accident.

But Aki knows; he gasps louder than he was trying to, even the smallest graze of contact has his head heavy, has him feeling himself pulse — and he's never felt that, never felt it ache so fucking badly before. He's a mess underneath his briefs already, and you've hardly touched him, hardly done anything more than tease. Yet still, he's dizzy, wound up and panting. You can tell how desperate he is, he's sure of it, but it's clear playing this game with him is your only concern.

Each echo of his loud, staggered breathing is music to your ears. Your fingertips brush closer, closer. He fists his hands in the sheets, he grips them firm to try and establish some form of composure. The thick fabric of his boxers is impossibly tight around him, so wet and constricting, he'd go ahead and tear them right off if he had less self-control.

But he's better than that. A little better, at least. Aki can play. He can be good, patient, compliant. He's put together enough to survive through your teasing, to keep meeting your eyes with the same eager, lust-filled flicker present in the back of his gaze as what's reflected in yours.

He isn't good enough to keep himself from getting hard, though. He's insatiable, sitting heavy on his thigh. And once you bring your hand to him again, soft expression caught between amusement and adoration, once you're more deliberate — Your hand rubs the stiff outline of his cock through the fabric, he's warm and he's perfect, you love the way his breath shakes. Love how his lips part and his pretty blue eyes go glossy, like water frozen-over.

Right then, Aki doesn't have enough strength to stop himself from gasping, from bucking his hips up into your touch to get closer. He huffs in disappointment the moment your palm travels away.

His head slightly tossed back, he shuts his eyes tight, he inhales harshly and his knuckles protrude out from his hand when his grip tightens on the sheets. His hair is a mess in his face, every inch of his skin is tinged rosy, warm to the touch. You've barely started, you've barely touched him, and already, he's falling apart.

And it's Aki, it's Aki who you're touching, who you've got falling apart at the seams from a few simple touches — It's him, everything about him and no-one else that has you so hooked. Those same broad shoulders tense up, skin slick with beads of sweat. His shiny black earrings glint when they catch the light. It's his tone of voice when your hand grips him again, his soft gasps that turn into even softer moans. Your touch melts his normally so smooth, so stern voice into high-pitched whimpers and whines, shy noises he has to keep muffled with the palm of his hand.

Your head is spinning. You squeeze him harder, toying with his thickening cock through his briefs, and Aki groans into his palm, his own breath hot on his skin. Pleasure racks through his body in waves. He needs your touch more, closer, his bottom lip won't stop quivering, and he thinks he'll die if you stroke him any harder, but he couldn't take it if you stopped.

With your thumb, you press down, applying the slightest pressure, you rub up the length of him and you swear when you reach the tip you can feel his dick throb.

You smirk, nearly chuckle, instead huffing contently out through your nose. Your gaze fixates on his lap, where his shape's grown more prominent now. "Sensitive, huh?"

Aki replies with a shallow, barely-there nod you almost don't manage to catch.

Almost.

"Yeah?" You place your whole palm over his covered cock, you admire the way he barely fits in your hand, "You must be, look at you. So hard. So needy already."

Aki's voice goes shaky, breathy. He spreads his thighs wider. His dick's twitching, leaking wet and sticky precum onto his leg, and the better you make him feel the more difficult it gets to keep playing along. "Mhmm…"

Your hand slowly drifts away with him, he follows your movement with his gaze as you take it up, up, up, until your fingers are wrapping around his waistband, and Aki's heaving a forceful sigh at the thought of you tugging it down.

"You want these off?"

You're clearly looking right at him, clearly asking for his answer, but he can't. His chest heaves, and Aki stares back at you dumbfoundedly, like a deer caught right in your headlights.

Your head tilts, "You gonna answer?"

Perhaps you're being a slight bit cruel to him, you're aware. But when his eyelids promptly flutter, when his expression starts to soften as you bring your hand back down, when you grab him and squeeze his dick through the fabric hard, his thighs tremor. He utters something pretty, something between a hitched breath and a whine, and you just can't help yourself.

He grits his teeth, jaw tense as he grinds them. His hips shift and threaten to roll up into your touch, but you stop him, holding him still with a firm hand on his thigh.

"C'mon," You scoff through a smile, "Talk to me."

"I- I'm- Give me a minute." Aki manages. You can't help but be impressed by how smooth his voice still sounds, how level he can keep it, despite how desperate he clearly is.

Your smile half-drops, and you let your tone go rigid for a moment, nice and genuine. "You alright? Is it too much?"

"No, no, keep- Keep touching." Aki huffs softly, neediness more present in his voice this time. He glances down, meets your gaze with big, round pupils, full moons of black swallowing the ocean blue of his iris. "But don't take anything off yet."

Oh. You like this. The desperation is more than evident in his eyes, in his voice, but that was stern, he's commanding. You can't deny how much you like it when he's selfish, when he takes some initiative. You could get used to him being bossy. It makes you wonder what else you'd see if you could bring out more of this side of him. Maybe in time.

So, without protest, you oblige; your hand finds the thick curve of his dick through his briefs, you give it a nice firm squeeze and Aki tosses his head backward, he swears under his breath. Sparks run through his veins again, his heart beats against his chest and fuck, he can feel himself dripping. He's making a damp, sticky mess of his cotton boxers. You grip him firm, give him a few half-hearted strokes, you fist his cock as best you can with the fabric in the way.

Aki shudders from his legs to his shoulders. His cock leaks steady dribbles of precum into his briefs, and he's certain you can feel the growing dampness of the fabric with the palm of your hand.

You're groping him so softly, and he's starting to throb, pulsing incessantly until he's squirming, his head spinning, his dick commanding all his attention. He can't even think, let alone speak. The softer you touch him, the more everything melts; his throat's dry, his heart aches from pounding so fast, so hard.

He wants to ask you to strip him of his briefs already. You won't make it easy, he's sure. Could he even handle any more than this? Briefly, when you stop touching for a moment, his head begins to clear, and Aki debates with himself whether he should start begging. He's sitting up, he's peering down at you with a quivering bottom lip, sorting through his options as he thinks of what to say.

And then, before he has the chance to make up his mind, and right when he thinks things couldn't get any worse, you start leaning in.

Staring up at him through your eyelashes, never breaking eye-contact, your hands on his thighs, your face between his legs, Aki watches as you kiss the shape of his cock through his boxers. Your lips are plush enough to feel, breath warm enough to give him a head rush.

He thought he'd be able to regain his composure if you gave him some time. But he was wrong, so wrong.

His breathing comes out a thousand times faster. The room is small, he's getting dizzy. He can fucking feel the outline of your lips like they're right there, with nothing inbetween, and he can't, not anymore, he can't take it.

"Stop… stop… stop…" Oh, he's whining now, so much for being assertive — He's practically blubbering over his words as he tries to speak them.

You freeze, hand hovering in the air. "You had enough?"

Aki gulps, hard enough to make his throat ache, to cause his Adam's apple to bob up and down solidly. Sweat forces his bangs to stick to his forehead and tickle his vision.

"Please." He begs that word and that word alone, voice fraying at the edges, soft and barely audible. It's difficult to speak, but he's trying.

"Please what?" Your palm rubs smooth circles into his thigh, your head tilts, "What is it?"

You're ridiculous.

Aki huffs. He throws his head back in annoyance and grumbles, but with a stern tone, he answers anyways, "Please touch me."

"You want these off?" Repeating the same motion, hooking your fingers around his waistband for the hundredth time, you peer up at him, to where his hand's come to cover his eyes, "Look at me."

Sweat glistens on the edges of his frame. Aki breathes in slowly, deeply. His lungs hurt. He clenches his jaw so tight it nearly starts to sting.

"C'mon, you can do it," Your hands drift up to meet his hips, thumbs nudging at his hip bones. Your words are much sharper than your touch, "I can keep teasing you, is that what you want? I'll gladly keep these on, keep touching you just like this."

Aki can't see it, but he can feel how your palms leave and then appear further down. They dance over his cock and give a tentative squeeze, and then one hand is gripping his thigh as the other squeezes him harder, firmer. He groans, breath catching, the sound of your voice laced with laughter resounds in his ears — "You wanna cum like this? God, that'd be so cute. Cute little virgin devil hunter cumming in his briefs."

"Stop, stop-"

His last few syllables come out like a choke. Aki opens his eyes slowly, he sits up more, he looks at you through a gap between his fingers. That small hint of his gaze, dew forming at his lash line, pleads infinitely harder than his words ever could, "Take it off. Please."

You follow along.

You follow before he's even got his plea halfway out of his mouth, fingers tugging at his briefs, committing the desperate tinge to his voice to memory and letting it run rampant in your heart. You want to hear more, and you'll give more, to get that taste of the side he only shows to you. You lean in, press another faint kiss to him — he shivers, swallows thickly — your eyes catch his for half a second longer than they should and he's flustered, his gaze is quick to flicker away.

The anticipation is palpable. Aki feels the way it bubbles up in his veins, swiftly boiling over. He shifts, he tries not to look as your hands around his waistband expose the messy patch of dark hair around his pelvis. He closes his eyes, and he sucks in a breath loud enough to hear when you finally free his hard cock; it springs up, taps gently against his stomach.

Fuck, he's pretty. Thick and pretty and long, the head's flushed a rosy shade of red, wet and glistening. You lean in a bit, not touching yet. You sigh and breathe warm air onto the weeping tip, and you swear you catch the way his dick twitches.

You're staring up at him, he can feel your gaze, but he can't even look at you. Aki leans back further, his weight resting on the heels of his palms. He overestimated how much of this he could handle, possibly. He'll go insane by the end of this, surely. You're not touching, you haven't touched yet. But he's still so hard and he just knows you're smiling, waiting for him to glance down at you so he can see it.

Steady droplets of precum drip down the length of him. His mind's a mess, he's so dizzy he can't think. You're cooing something he can hardly hear over the ringing in his ears, under your breath — Oh, sweetheart. — and suddenly the air gets so much thicker. The end of your thumb presses to the tip of his cock, rubbing right over the soaked slit, echoing soft, wet noises, sending needy pangs of pleasure straight through his system, and it's all too much.

Your voice is warm, soft around the edges. "Look at you. You're so thick, I got you so hard, huh? Look at how pretty you are."

"G-God…" Aki mumbles. The mattress bounces as he flops back-first onto the bed, an arm tossed over his face; this time, you gently squeeze the tip between your thumb and your index. You're coaxing more precum to coat your knuckles and your fingers, slick and shiny when it drips down and gets his dick nice and wet — "Don't, I- oh f-fuck…"

You're fisting the tip, gripping it in your palm and gently stroking — You grind it hard against your hand, squeeze and massage it between your fingers. Up and down, jerking him off by the tip, just the tip. A little faster, then. 'Til he can't only feel your touch, but hear it, too.

Wetness clings to your hand, slick on the head of his cock and sticky on your skin. Aki can't breathe. You're going faster, he's panting harder, louder. His back arches, clumsily bucking him into your touch, he tenses up and he feels so good, so amazing.

He could cum if you don't stop, just from this. He thinks by now, you probably know.

Having him at your mercy is as perfect as you could have ever expected it to be. He's so goddamn needy, terribly touch starved, he's longed for this for so long, and you want to give him everything. Everything he can handle, whatever he needs. Aki moans, desperate and guttural, he runs a clumsy hand through his hair. The hitches in his breath, the gasps and the whines belong to you and you alone.

If you could tease him for the rest of the night, watch him squirm and beg, see him cry from something other than his usual strife for a change, you'd be completely, utterly content.

Your palm pumps the head of his cock to a steady, eager rhythm. His breathing is shaky, it's over and over and over as he pants, desperate for air. Desperate for anything.

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum already, all over your hand and the sheets and his own dick —

But despite how toying you can be, you are merciful.

You abruptly take your hand away, his length falls against his stomach. And Aki swears, he grunts a disgruntled-sounding fuck and takes loud, heavy breaths, his brows knotted, his jaw tensed.

"There," You say softly, though your spine still tingles at the sound of his voice, "I'll stop. Take a breather."

Aki lets out a sigh so heavy and long his lungs shake with the weight of it. He swallows, his voice sore. "I was close."

Merciful, no; you'd be merciful if you let him finish, but you haven't. And something tells him you won't, not until you're satisfied.

You tut, wiping your hand off onto the bedspread, "Uh-huh, I thought so. That's why I stopped. Come here, sit up again."

Aki stays still for a few moments longer, chest heaving. When he's mustered up the energy, he pushes himself up with a quiet grunt, fingers rubbing circles on his temple, pushing messy strands of hair away from his face. He shifts to sit onto the end of the bed again, squirming to get his briefs off and stepping out of them when they pool at his ankles. You snatch them up so they'll at least be off the floor, tossing them to the other end of the bed. Palm to his forehead, he feels how hot his face has gotten. Heat burns under his shoulders when he stretches and rolls them backward.

Elbows coming to rest on either of his thighs, you ask, "You alright?"

He's gonna have to be. Aki nods, glancing down towards you. "Yeah."

"You wanna keep going?"

Again, he answers, "Yes."

Carefully, you let your hand wrap around the thick base of his cock. You're barely touching, but it still gets him to shudder. The faint patch of his dark hair tickles your skin. Aki sighs, he tries to relax, leaning back and spreading his legs more. His heart hammers in his chest but his body feels limp, like he's weightless.

"Is this alright?" You're glancing up at him through your lashes, "Should I keep going?"

"Yes." Aki answers, "Please."

Whatever was stressing you out at the beginning of the night doesn't matter. All the worries and the boredom mean nothing, they don't exist anymore. You can hardly remember how you were feeling then, what was going through your head, you've ceased to think about any of it. This moment is the only thing you care about — Aki is the only one you care about.

Nothing else matters, nothing but the pretty look that overtakes his features once your hand grips harder and starts moving, nothing but the eager sigh he breathes out as a plea. Nothing is running though your mind but how perfect he feels in your palm: hard and silky and wet.

It's clearer now than it ever was before just how sensitive he is, his dick twitches when you drag your palm up, throbs like a heartbeat when you squeeze too firmly on the first upstroke. You're as gentle as you can be to ease him into it. You keep your hand nice and loose, stroke him up, down. You wait a few moments for him to get used to the feeling, and then continue again.

Being touched by you is what makes it all the more sweeter. Aki watches your movement with his breath already ragged, gaze flickering from your face to the work of your palm. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down to keep from falling apart.

The slow pace of your hand on his cock becomes more manageable the more he gets used to it. Peering up at him, you ask him a question you're sure you already know the answer to.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?"

It's nice to hear your voice again. The sound is familiar, oddly comforting to him. Aki gasps when your palm swipes the sensitive head, he answers with a quick and barely audible no. That'd make you the first.

The first to jerk him off, probably the first to see him like this. The first person to hear the way his voice sounds when it's breaking, the first to make him feel this way, the first to touch him here besides his own hand.

Maybe you're the first to kiss him, too. God, his first kiss.

You shouldn't say anything, but you can't seem to keep your mouth shut. "Was that your first kiss too? Earlier, I mean."

It's indulgent, definitely. Possessive. Wrong of you, even. There's something certainly wrong with how your heart gets way too fucking fluttery, simply from the thought of finding yourself as Aki's first kiss; you, of all people, a total stranger. You were able to charm him enough to let his guard down, he's enamored with you to the point of no return.

You aren't the type to act this way, you swear you aren't. But Aki makes everything easy. Is it so wrong of you to want to take his firsts for yourself?

Fortunately, Aki's oblivious enough to indulge you.

"No," He snaps, his voice threatens to waver, and you hate yourself for it, but you can't help but feel a slight, sudden tinge of disappointment. You take out the ire of that feeling by stroking his cock faster.

"Hhah," Aki trembles, pleasure rushes through his veins and he can barely keep his eyes open and focused on you. "Not- not the first. But- doesn't matter. I haven't… nothing like that. I haven't done anything like that."

You're smiling to yourself. "Yeah? Nothing as good, huh? You liked kissing me, didn't you?"

If you weren't busy making him feel so good, if your touch wasn't so perfect, if he could think somewhat straight instead of nowhere near the mark at all, maybe he would have started to wonder why you're asking him such stupid questions. But he doesn't.

"Yeah, yeah." Breath weighty in his lungs, a burning warmth spreads across the back of Aki's neck as your hand pumps his aching cock harder still, "S'good, so good. I… I want to- oh- Slow down, slow down, slow down…"

His gasps turn to soft, open-mouthed whines, he muffles them with his palm, he's so loud it's shameful. Your touch disappears when you take your hand away, embarrassment is a creeping warmth on the end of his spine and Aki shuts his eyes tight. He takes in quick, choppy breaths, trying to slow them to calm down. It's no use, the burn in his lungs has him panting sharp and shaky. He leans his head back, his hair tickles his shoulders. Tapping your fingers against his thigh, running them along the wake of gooseflesh, you graciously give him a couple seconds to compose himself.

"You okay?" You ask quietly.

Aki swallows, nods. His hands are shaking. He props himself back up and watches in timid silence as you lean in, pressing a feather-light kiss to where his hip bone juts out from his side. Sighing, eyelids fluttery, Aki resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You place another kiss onto his stomach, you squeeze his thigh at the same time, and you can't resist smiling from the breathy, meager noise that leaves his lips.

"Just relax. Take it easy." Hands at your sides, you speak slowly, calmly, until Aki is starting to mirror. "There's no reason to get so worked up. We've got all the time in the world."

Steady, Aki exhales the breath he was holding. His posture straightens, he keeps his gaze fixated on you and watches as you come into focus, the knots in his brain untangling themselves.

"I'll go slower this time." You say smoothly, "You'll be fine, focus on me. Okay?"

In response, Aki nods again, harder than before, more assured. His muscles loosen when he grabs his shoulder and squeezes, rolling the tension out beneath his palm. He shifts, getting comfortable. Once he's settled, gaze rested on you in waiting, that's when you finally return to him.

The budding warmth of him in your hand is a sensation you've grown used to, the gentle way his length pulses to the tune of his thudding heart are rhythmic enough to memorize. He's thick and heavy in your palm, already firm again when you stroke up, applying a slight pressure the closer you get to the head. Slick precum wets his slit, it drips onto your knuckles.

Aki wobbles, the bridge of his nose crinkles and creases. Spots of light paint the darkness in his vision, his eyes closing. He exhales, calms, and he only now realizes the way his knuckles ache from clenching them so hard. Easing up his hands, he drums his fingers against the bed to give himself something else to do with them, he tries as best he can to keep his mind from racing.

"There you go. Now you're relaxed." Your thumb gently brushes over the tip of his cock, Aki grits his teeth hard. "You've been so pent up, haven't you?"

He tries, but he can't speak without stuttering: "I'm, ah, a little-"

"When's the last time you touched yourself?"

"I-"

There's no way he can answer that. There's no reason to, either. But —

"I… I don't know." Aki's voice comes out softer than he wanted it to, weak and airy when the words leave his throat. Your hand's stopped, his heart pounds audibly his ears. You stare at him expectantly, and Aki's eyes nervously scan you up and down.

Your head tilts. "Too shy to tell me? That's okay."

"No," Aki snaps, "I can't remember, it's been a while. Maybe a few months ago? Sorry, is that a stupid answer?"

It might be, he doesn't know, but shame fades away to pleasure the moment your hand starts moving again.

True to your word, once your rhythm's started up once more, you're much slower, much more careful. Your strokes are shallow, they're teasing, the fluid motion of your wrist keeps him panting, but right under the edge of getting overwhelmed. Your focus stays on him to will Aki to do the same, eyes on his, his own gaze cloudy with need, with anticipation. You watch the persistent rise and fall of his chest in your peripheral.

"Is it 'cause you're too busy?"

"A little, I'm, hhah," Aki stutters when your hand twists and then squeezes, "A little busy. Ever since my boss made me… s-shit," A soft grunt, "Ever since they moved in with me, I haven't had any time alone."

Ever since they moved in with me, could he mean the trouble-makers from before?

"Awe, is that so?" You coo, "Poor thing."

Aki's lips purse, his eyelids flutter, he nods his head and mutters a mix between a whine and a quiet mhmm.

Your voice is sweet, heady like liquor, "It must've been forever since you last had some alone time, you're so sensitive. All you want is to be taken care of, don't you?"

Head spinning, breath hot and sharp when it enters his lungs, Aki blinks away the blur taking over the edges of his vision. He tries not to choke at the sight of your delicate fingers wrapped right around his cock. Sensitive is exactly what he is when your palm caresses the fat head, making him gasp, his arms and his shoulders shivering, warmth in his chest and a fire underneath his veins.

Aki sighs, "Yeah." He does. He wants to be taken care of, wants to be treated softly by you.

"It's hard, huh? Hard to always have to be so strong." The heel of your palm rubs harder into his cockhead and Aki groans, tosses his head back until his hair is making a mess in his eyes. The smile on your face is deceptively innocent, "It's hard when you're a devil hunter. Even harder when you don't get all the love you deserve. You just wanna feel loved and safe and cared for. Isn't that right?"

Right. You're right. And truthfully, he's never realized how badly he needed this until now, until he met you.

It's so hard, every new day he spends slaughtering devils becomes harder and harder, and Aki wants to be weak, to let go, like you're all he has. He's spent so long in hell he didn't realize how much he craved to feel a dose of heaven. He couldn't have imagined the way he'd end up, or could have predicted where he is now, alone with you while all his senses spark alight, his heart in your waiting hands.

But he doesn't regret anything. He's stupid, really stupid, stupid and insatiable and everything he thought he couldn't be — and he loves every second of it.

Aki swallows. "Yeah, I want to." Trembling, and then steady, "But I already do. You make me- you're making me feel so…"

You think your heart might explode.

Your lips can't help but twist into a smile, you let your palms wander to give his thighs a playful squeeze. "You're such a sweetheart."

Aki opens his mouth, he realizes he doesn't know what to say half-way through.

So you continue on instead, "You think you can do something for me?"

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Sure."

You reach for his wrist, gripping it tight, dragging him closer.

"C'mere."

Your hand guides his own — much larger than yours, the difference in size between his and your palms is way more noticeable when your hands are pressed to one another — and carefully, your hand wrapping back around his waiting cock, you bring his own hand to lay on top of yours. His palm brushes over your knuckles, his fingers twitch and jitter before they settle. His glance flickers towards you, gaze expectant, his lips slightly parted; your words are the only thing to finally crush his confusion.

"Show me."

"Huh?"

"Show me how you touch yourself," You instruct, "I wanna see how you make yourself feel good."

"Ah-" Aki's voice cracks, he looks away, fights the urge to take his hand away, too, "What you were doing was fine, you don't need to- I don't-"

You interrupt when Aki starts to trail off, "Please, Aki?"

Funny how those few words are enough to make him start to forget why he ever wanted to object in the first place. Your eyes are big and pretty, practically sparkling. You tilt your head and fucking hell, he's never going to be able to resist you, is he? He exhales, letting out the biggest, longest sigh of exasperation.

"Don't take it too seriously," You're saying. You laugh a little, and it makes your nose scrunch in a way Aki finds so endearing, "It'll be fun, I swear. You'll enjoy this. Relax, alright?"

Aki scoffs, breathing a soft tsk, mostly to himself. He gives you one more glance, pleading look and all. His shoulders slump, he pushes his bangs from his face with his other hand and sighs again, in defeat this time.

"Okay," He answers, "Alright."

Warmth burns hard in the apples of his cheeks. He bites down firmly on his bottom lip to steady himself, his fingers flex as he curls his hand around yours more comfortably. He glances towards you, shyly glances back down. Slowly, his palm begins to guide yours.

And Aki moves, touching himself with your own hand.

The languid rhythm he sets isn't much different from how your own was; he takes your hand up, down, lazy and smooth. He adjusts, spreading his legs wider to get a better grip. You stay focused on him, your expression soft, intoxicating, near impossible to look away from. Aki tries to ignore his nerves when he feels them inching up his spine, he closes his eyes to make it easier, his head slightly tossed back as he concentrates on your gentle palm, on the way your pretty hand jerks him off.

The feeling is similar to before, similar to when he'd do this by himself. But at the same time, it's different — It'll always be different, because it's your hand instead of his.

Your palm is smaller, much more delicate. He'd noticed the difference between you when you first started touching him. Hell, he knew how small your hand was compared to his own when you first grabbed it all those hours ago. The thought then made his heart pound. The sensation of it now makes him ache.

You don't have the calluses he does, or the scars, the bruises. Your touch is tender. Your touch is nothing like what he thinks he deserves, everything he could have ever longed for. His body's warm when the idea of you shakes inside his feeble chest and even weaker head. The look in your eyes makes him want to say something, to tell you how you make him feel, to explain how desperately he's longed for you. He can't come up with anything worthwhile. Soft, wet sounds fill the empty space instead.

His knuckles are filthy already. He catches a steady dribble of precum when he drags your hand up, he brings your palm over the tip and makes it slicker. Gentle breaths pair with every slow pump of his arm. His brows furrow each time he strokes to the top, his expression relaxes when he takes your touch back down. A prominent vein in his wrist bulges out each time he squeezes.

Aki can feel your gaze on him, even with his eyes closed. He's tried to stay composed. Tried not to lose whatever was left of his mind, but it's no use, it's never been. Even though he's the one guiding you, even though he's setting the pace, you're the one holding all the control — You could tell him to do absolutely anything right now and he would. One last word, one more please and he'd give all of himself to you, everything that remains.

Your voice is calming, quiet. He was almost beginning to miss what it sounded like: "You're so gentle. Do you go any faster?"

"No, I usually… I start off slow." Aki answers, the heat beneath his cheeks blossoming brighter. Strong enough to burn him alive, but he forces himself to continue through, "I've gotta get… used to it," He breathes a shaky gasp, timid hand leading your palm until you swipe over the needy tip of his cock, "Shit, so sensitive."

"You think about anything when you're doing this by yourself? Maybe someone you like?"

Aki exhales, he gulps hard enough to shake his Adam's apple, dragging your hand back down to the hilt, "I don't like anyone that way."

With his eyes still closed, he hasn't been able to tell, but when your warm breath fans over his aching length, hot and fuzzy and so much but at the same time, nothing at all — He can feel how close you've leaned in.

You continue, "Do you think about having sex?"

"No. I guess not." Aki lets his eyes open, he stares up at the ceiling. His chest expands with the deep gulp of air he takes, "I focus on the feeling. Let my mind go blank. I don't really think about anything."

A coy smirk tugs at the corners of your cheeks.

Perfect. This'll be another first, then.

"You wanna try thinking about it?" Your eyes meet his own when Aki glances down, he starts to say something but interrupts himself with a sharp breath in when you give his cock a teasing squeeze, deviating from his instructions. Yet he doesn't look away.

"Think about," He grunts, playing dumb, "Think about what?"

"While I'm touching you, why don't you think about having sex with me?"

Aki's eyes go wide. His mouth falls open, lips slightly ajar. He freezes in place, his expression twists from disbelief to something apprehensive.

"I can't do that." He's matter-of-fact with his answer. Stern, surely positive. If you knew any better you'd think he was scolding you. You'll change his mind very, very quickly.

"Sure you can. Here, my turn," You bat his hand away, leaving just yours touching, and Aki awkwardly hovers it in the air for a few long seconds before hesitantly placing it back down at his side. "What, are you too nervous?"

"Somewhat."

"Well, don't be."

"That doesn't help."

"I bet it's 'cause you're one of those people, like you have a bad imagination," You chuckle, the sound bubbly and light, "I'll help you out, don't worry. Lean back, close your eyes if you have to. All you have to do is try and picture what I tell you."

Aki blinks once, twice.

"Think you can do that for me? Pleeease. Just try."

With a disgruntled, loud exhale through his nose, he finally gives in. You're smiling wider as he shifts back, relaxing, resting his weight on his palms, and allowing his eyes to flutter shut.

"You ready?"

Aki nods, "Yeah. Keep going."

His hands clench the moment your palm starts stroking him again. The tension leaves his limbs like an ebbing wave; quick, anxious beats of his heart turn into loud, thudding echoes he can feel deep in his chest and hear in his ears. Your touch is deliberate, his cock is aching and sensitive; a few pumps of your hand are enough to get him hard around your fingers already, breathing in short pants, utterly desperate.

"Think about, hm," The pad of your thumb rubs circles into his cockhead, and Aki shivers, gritting his teeth firmly to get himself to focus. You're continuing, "Think about me and you. We're at your place. In your bedroom."

Listen, focus. Aki takes a steady inhale in, out, trying as best he can manage to bring a picture to the scene.

It would be dark, the lights off. The moon would hang high in the night sky. Your figure bathed in shadow, you'd be spread out over his navy blue bed sheets, arms sprawled above you, reaching up towards the headboard. His alarm clock would tick, tick, tick. The sounds of the city fill his bedroom's empty space: the low hum of distant sirens, the rumble of the trains. The cacophony which would inevitably come from his not-a-guest-room-anymore guest room would quickly drown out everything.

He wonders if the two of you would ever get a moment alone. He'd push his dresser in front of his bedroom door because it doesn't have a lock. He'd kick the two idiots out for the day — No, no, they'd just come walking in anyways, ruining everything, because whatever Aki says not to do is exactly what they end up doing.

It's giving him a headache. His face is starting to tense up, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched. You notice. "Don't overcomplicate things."

Aki huffs. "I'm trying."

From the base to the head, your hand strokes his dick, squeezing harder the closer you get to the tip until precum is wet on his slit and he's covering his mouth to muffle the sound of a soft whine. God, how is he this fucking sensitive?

The smoothness of your voice is his only tether to reality. "Let's try something else, maybe."

"I… I'm sorry," Aki's thighs twitch, his head spins. He lets go of his held breath, his hips shift from restlessness. "Alright."

"It's okay. Relax. Just try your best."

Aki breathes in. "Okay."

"How about you think of us right here? Y'know, maybe a little while from now on." Your hand pumps his cock faster, and Aki feels his pulse thrum rampant in his throat. "I'm on top of you, your hands are on my waist. Picture me in your lap like I was before, picture me touching you, just like this."

Gulping, he answers again, "Okay. I got it."

And he tries.

This new scene is easier to imagine now. You'd be on top of him, the neon light of the room frames your silhouette from behind you. All your clothes would be off, and his, too. You're pressed close to his own body with your skin warm, shimmering from sweat. Your hair is a mess, you're taking up every corner of his vision until you're the only thing he can perceive. One of your hands lays softly on his cheek; your phantom touch feels as real and as perfect as what he's come to be familiar with.

You'd grip and stroke him, just the same as in this moment. Your delicate palms would caress his neck, the length of his shoulders, down his chest. You'd brush his messy bangs from his eyes and kiss him on the corner of his mouth, gentle, but teasing enough to make him woozy.

He'll get to that point with you tonight if he isn't careful. These ideas in his head are very much real. That only makes them all the more intoxicating.

This time, your voice comes out at barely more than a whisper: "Are you imagining it? Thinking of me touching you? I'd make you feel so good, Aki. And then, I'd offer to make you feel even better."

Every thought in his head spins in circles, never getting anywhere. Aki focuses on your touch, on each pleasurable pump of your hand on his length.

"Yeah, yeah," Aki sighs, breath trembling, "When I think about it, I- Oh, fuck-"

When you'd grab him by his waist and sink down on him, skin against skin once he's all the way inside, when you'd wrap your arms around his shoulders and ride his aching cock until your rhythm of sighs are a mantra in his ear; he'd follow along, gripping you tight, fucking up into you as much as it takes to get you louder — Aki groans. He covers his face with both hands, he can't stop himself from rocking his hips into your touch, grinding his cock into your palm, desperate for more friction.

He's breathless, he feels filthy, his mind can't stop conjuring the thought of you pressed close to him, your fingers running through his hair, plush lips pressed to his nape while he's buried deep inside you. God, he's terrible, he's dirty for imagining this, and yet he can't fucking stop. What the hell is he doing?

Aki pictures how you'd coo into his ear, how the tones to your voice that he's already managed to memorize would echo sweet gasps and even sweeter utterances of his name. You'd cling to each syllable like it's special as you say it for him, over and over again. Aki, Aki, Aki.

Please, Aki. I need you.

He's losing his mind. The sensible half of him tells him he needs to get a grip. But it's a little hard, impossible, even, to do so when your hand is stroking his needy cock, and when his whole body feels light, when he's gotten so hard he's practically aching. His thighs are trembling, his heart is beating wild inside his chest.

So, he decides he won't stop you. Aki grunts low in his throat, his eyes flutter open, but he closes them again when a glimpse at your pretty face staring up at him only makes the picture in his head even clearer.

He knows you're smirking now.

"Does it feel good?" You purr, and it's in that same sweet voice he was imagining, "You thinking about fucking me?"

"Y-Yes…" Aki answers, panting, hesitant and quiet, like he's almost hoping you won't end up hearing him.

But you do, "Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking of."

Your hand pumps him firmly, he's slick, silky underneath your touch; the sound it makes every time you drag upward is indecent, disgustingly wet. Precum drips from his cockhead in steady droplets. You swipe the tip with your palm and coat the rest of his length in his arousal.

Aki's words are shaky: "You're… you're on top of me. And you're kissing me, and I'm- I…"

You squeeze him harder, the rest of whatever he was trying to say catches in his throat and he nearly chokes, his shoulders tense. He can't even think anymore, and he couldn't possibly say anything to you when he cracks his eyes open and meets your gaze — for only a few moments, but enough to make pleasure boil hotter and deeper in the pit of his stomach, warmth traveling up the length of his spine.

He tries to speak, just one more time. His sentence barely starts before he's cutting himself off, gasping and sputtering, blown out pupils hidden behind fluttering eyelids. His bottom lip trembles alongside every ragged breath he takes.

You wanted for him to keep going. Wanted to hear him tell you all about how that sweet head of his imagined taking you — and you're normally patient enough to wait. Up until now, you've been unbelievably patient. You can't deny you like dragging things out with him, you enjoy watching him beg and squirm as he tries his best to keep up. You should give him time, let him have another break, and normally, you would. Normally.

Aki swallows, he pushes his hair from his face and it's clear his hand is shaking. His palm lingers, hiding the scarlet hue to his cheeks. He mumbles a muffled swear, he sighs out the softest please, and as you find yourself leaning in closer, you finally lose the last of your restraint.

He feels the tickle of your breath on his length first, warm and devilishly subtle. His fingers twitch, he swallows again to chase away the dryness in his throat, harder this time. He can't look. Then, there's the faint ghost of your lips, and as they press ever-so gently to the thick tip of his cock, kissing it softly, that's when Aki practically melts.

His shoulders slump, his head tilts back. Tingles rack his nerves, his heart pumps fast, hard. He can barely focus on anything but the feeling, too caught up with how you're starting to trail sloppy kisses down his cock; you kiss the right side, lean over and kiss the left. You admire the way his dick throbs beneath your lips, pulsing to the tune of his breathing: sharp, quick, and desperate.

There's something so tender about your touch, softness in intensity. There's a feeling budding deep in his center he can't begin to get enough of every time he sees you on your knees, between his legs, a saccharine look in the back of your eyes. When you continue to press warm kisses to his length, palm on his thigh to keep him steady, desire wells hot in his chest. He wants to touch you, hold you, keep you closer than anything he's ever had before because he needs this, needs you. God, does he need you.

Your kisses travel up the sensitive underside of his cock, and as your tongue swipes right under the head, Aki fists the sheets so hard he feels his joints ache.

"F-Fuck," The pleasure's practically overwhelming, Aki pants forcefully as if his lungs are pleading for air, "Fuck, oh God- please, I-"

Voice wobbling and fraying, he can hardly speak; the tip of your tongue flicks against his cockhead, wet and teasing, and he's done, utterly done for.

His entire body shivers, he sighs out whines too high-pitched for his usual tone. Your gaze flutters up, and Aki's sweating, quite literally dripping with sweat. Droplets cascade down his jaw, his chest shiny, skin glistening. Despite his best efforts, his hair has made a mess around his face again. His pulse is quick enough to feel, pounding feverishly in his ears.

Your hand pumps his cock fast. It's wetter now, slick from the mix of your saliva and his precum. He lets his eyes roll back, his mouth falling open. He moans at your touch, broken and feeble, loud enough that the room over would hear if the walls weren't already soundproof.

His taste is salty on your tongue when you swirl it around his tip, heady, taking over your senses. You lick his cockhead until he starts to go dizzy, quick flicks of your tongue making him twitch. You close your lips around, sucking softly when you feel him throb — and to your satisfaction, he only throbs harder. An incessant, needy pulse, he breathes deeper with the same sort of weight, gasping forcefully. He spreads his legs open as wide as they'll go, and leans further backward.

It feels so fucking good. He's shaking, his thighs and his hands trembling. You kiss him again, lips on the warm length of his cock, and his palms fly up to shyly cover his face, his stomach flexes — You know he's close.

And you were just getting started.

"Don't cum yet."

Lips hovered a centimeter away, you breathe the words onto his sensitive tip, the sensation sharper now that he's coated in your saliva. As your hand twists up the length of his cock, squeezing, he groans in a mix of pleasure and disappointment. You're quiet, and you almost think he didn't end up hearing you, but with his eyes shut tight and his temple creased, he finally answers, frantically shaking his head.

"No, no…" Aki pleads, he's full-blown whining, his voice is weak and trembles like he'll cry. When you abruptly let go of him, taking your hand away to leave him throbbing against nothing, his bottom lip quivers and he practically sobs.

"No, please, you can't… Please don't stop, I wanna- oh, please, please."

Only a few seconds without you, and he's needy already, dribbling precum while his thighs shake; his face is flushed with vibrant warmth, and his head dips to hide it, eyelids fluttering between open and closed. His hair falls around his pretty pierced ears, the ends of them burning in shades of pink and red. He pants, chest heaving, up, down.

"Awe, c'mon. You've been so good for me up 'til now." You offer him the smallest reprieve when your lips press against his cock in a faint kiss, and he can't help but whimper softly. "Try and hold out for a little bit longer."

Aki's voice sounds pathetic when it lilts, "I- I can't. I'm so close."

"I know you can, you'll do it for me, right?" You're purring, pleading, but it's less of a plea when you're already sure he'll do everything you tell him to. "Please, try?"

And you're right. There isn't a single possibility where he'd ever be able to say no to you.

Aki's mind goes foggy as all the blood rushes to his head, making him dizzy. He wants to cum on your tongue or your hand or wherever you'll let him so goddamn badly it's the only thing he can think about, and the thought of having to hold out for any longer is enough to send him reeling.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take, even if he tried. The smallest touch from you and he thinks he'll explode. Every part of his body is tense, begging for release.

But he can't say no. He couldn't. He won't, because it's you. Because you're sweet and perfect, because you promised to take care of him and he trusts that, trusts you. You know he can, and it's all he needs to hear.

Aki sighs in defeat. He meets your gaze, his eyes glossy with tears that haven't fallen yet; he blinks hastily to do away with them, and he nods his head, giving in.

You smile. You smile, and it makes everything worthwhile.

"Breathe, okay?" Your thumb rubs slow circles onto his tip, a tingly warm feeling returns to his gut, "Take deep breaths. I'm gonna take care of you. It'll feel so good when you finally finish, I promise."

Aki steadies himself, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He rolls his shoulders back, loosening them.

"Go slow," He says at last. He swallows, still slightly shaky, "Go slow or I'll cum."

Eagerly, your lips pressing to the warm head of his cock, you mutter a muffled mhmm. The noise sends pleasant vibrations down his length, and Aki groans quietly, urging you on.

Your hand grips the base of his cock to keep him situated. The promise you made to take care of him comes in the form of your wet tongue pressed flat on the underside, hand slowly pumping his length to get him ready, and your eyes closing as you start to take him into your mouth.

He's thick. He makes your throat tense up the more of him you try to swallow. You're unprepared for this, the same as he is. You shouldn't push yourself, but when he feels this perfect in your mouth, and when he's sighing, making such pretty noises already, you just aren't able to resist.

And even though tears are pricking at your lashes and your throat aches like you're going to choke, you need to hear more, give him more — You don't stop until you're at least halfway down. Until your hand is doing the rest of the work, and Aki's rewarding you with a whine, then a cute hitched gasp. He keeps his hands clenched at his sides, veins protruding from his knuckles when he fists the sheets and grips.

And God, is he hard, he must be aching. He won't stop throbbing to a rapid rhythm even once you're pulling back, sucking hard on the tip before sinking down when you're itching to feel him in your mouth again. His taste is addicting, strong, and you lick all the way up his length, drooling a mess of saliva onto his cock. You flick your tongue at his slit and breathe cool air onto him, watching the way he squirms. He'll cum soon if you aren't careful.

But Aki is pliant, despite your teasing. He's good. He can wait.

Even though he's already overwhelmed, he lets you place messy kisses all over his dick, he glances down and his gaze connects with yours as you're taking him back into your mouth — You're all droopy eyelids and soft eyes, his heart stops the moment you look at him, but now you're swallowing his cock down to the hilt and he can't look away. Can't do anything, in fact. Anything but hopelessly feel his breath come in short pants, gasping to the same tune as the lovely patter in his warm chest.

You keep your face buried in his pelvis until you start to get lightheaded. You're hollowing your cheeks, gently sucking while you pull back. And when you go down again, screwing your eyes shut and whimpering weakly around him from the pace you've set, Aki moans loud. You bob your head on his cock and his noises partially drown out your own: quiet gags, wet sputters.

Your head goes up and down, you drag upward to give yourself a break and catch your breath. Reaching for his hand, your tongue swirling around the head, your eyes half-open, you grip his wrist. You guide his palm to rest on the back of your head and sink back down at the same time. He keeps it there, shaky and hesitant at first, but when you gag on him and he suddenly needs something to hold onto, he's gripping tightly at your hair, his knuckles flexing.

This is debauched, and he knows it. You've given up on holding back, the noises you're making and the sight of you is downright disgusting, spit glistening on your lips and his shaft, your eyes shut, choking feebly as you suck him off. Your cheeks are wet with tears, and he reaches to brush them away with his thumb.

He knows, but he doesn't want you to stop, you can't stop. Holding your face in his hand, he admires you, unable to look away. You're gorgeous, your pretty eyes teary, your mouth on his cock. He's felt more in this moment than he has in forever — or perhaps he's never felt anything so intense, never been this tender-hearted. Not until you. With you, it begins and it ends, always.

You've got his dick down your throat, and all Aki can think about is how much he adores you.

Your pace increases, teetering on the edge of what you can handle. The tip of his cock rubs the soft inside of your cheek. Then, you're grabbing his thighs, coaxing them apart more and gripping them for leverage. You swirl your tongue as you take him, forgetting the need to breathe in order to lavish him as much as you want to, as much as he deserves.

The way it feels, fuck, the way it sounds — Aki is sure he could never hope to get your voice out of his mind, the hums you make when he rubs the back of your head affectionately, brushing your hair from your face with his fingers. The chokes you utter as you take him deeper, deeper. You're close to crying, but you aren't stopping, you don't stop because you're too addicted.

He's overwhelming every time he fills your throat, but you love this too much: the noises he makes through his teeth, the blissed out look on his face. You peer up at him through your lashes, your vision blurry, and Aki's gaze is heavy, locked onto yours. His bangs are a thick mess around his forehead, his chest rises and falls. The ragged melody of his breathing fills your ears; you're obsessed with his taste, with the soft touch of his hand on the back of your head.

His grip on your hair tightens. You stop for a moment, pulling back and placing a kiss to his needy cockhead, to which Aki instantly huffs a sigh of relief. Your gaze on his, you keep your tone at barely more than a whisper.

You ask him, "How's it feel?"

"Good," Aki's voice cracks like he's forgotten how to speak, "Feels good."

"Yeah? Keep talking to me."

You trail your tongue up his length, he's already soaked with your drool; you lick a stripe across the thick head and his fingers start to shake.

"Your mouth is- it's warm," He starts, already panting, swallowing thickly, his throat dry, "Pretty, you're so pretty. Can you- please, ah- yeah, that's it…"

Your lips close around him, and you take him back into your mouth, giving him just what he was hoping for. Aki feels all of his muscles tense, then relax. Working the rest of his cock with your hand, you run your tongue along his length's underside, licking and swirling, 'til he's in heaven.

"Oh, fuck- just like that," He encourages, his words shaky. Watching you try so hard to please him fills him with a bubbly warm sense of adoration, "I'm close, really close, I- oh- don't stop…"

His head tosses back, his moans are loud and desperate. Your mouth is irresistibly warm, so wet, your chokes send the most pleasant vibrations over his cock and make it impossible to try to speak. Your head bobs up and down recklessly as you focus on him and his pleasure alone. The rest of your mind is utterly blank. His grip grows stronger close to your scalp, so tight it nearly stings. He loosens his hold when he realizes he doesn't want to hurt you.

Fog in his head and a pounding in his heart, he's getting restless, impulsive, starting to move more — Aki clumsily bucks his hips up the next time you sink down, the slightest movement forcing him further down your throat, added pleasure making him moan, deep and guttural. He gasps, thighs trembling. He starts meeting the bobs of your head with gentle thrusts into your mouth, and he's so out of it you're not even sure if he realizes what he's doing.

Aki can't think, his head is spinning too fast, everything is dizzy. There's no way he can hold back any longer but he couldn't bother to care, he's so close and your pretty wet mouth feels so good and he needs to cum, God he needs to cum —

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," Aki begs in slurs of words and stuttered gasps, a roll of his hips fucking him deeper into your mouth. His vision is going white, he's struggling to keep looking at you; eyes watering, like he might cry, "Please, don't-"

You drag off of his cock with a strong suck and a pop of your lips, his pleasure wavers and wanes, but then comes back to him strong as ever once your hand twists and squeezes at the base of his cock, moving upward. Your tongue swirls over the sensitive head, your gaze flickers up to meet his own. And you have your eyes on his, tongue greedily flicking his flushed cockhead, warm soft stare the sweetest thing he's ever seen — and that's enough. You suck on the tip with a harsh, wet sound and he's melting, heat rushing his system all at once.

"I'm- I c-can't," He sounds pathetic, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"

Pleasure buds and explodes in the pit of his stomach, you hum around him in approval, soft vibrations enough to burst that final bubble; Aki whimpers, chokes on air, and then he's throwing his head back, gasping hard. His Adam's apple bobs solid in his throat, his cock twitches and his hands shake. You hold your breath and sink down on him, warmth enveloping his length as he cums in your mouth.

The feeling hits you before the taste. Thick and warm, heady on your tongue, his dick throbbing steadily through his release. Your temple knots up in your efforts not to swallow. You grip his thighs and squeeze them tightly, admiring the cracks in his voice, the lilts of his moans. Desperate ah's and quiet swears strain his normally smooth tone into a weak, high-pitched mess. If he sounds this good when he cums for you, you aren't going to be able to stop here.

How much you've teased him shows in how much he has to give you, his cum quickly fills your mouth and forces you to pull back. Even once you do, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, it's still dribbling from his cock, such a mess. His dick is slippery and soaked from your saliva, his skin caked in sweat. Your head clears slowly, it gets easier to breathe. You watch Aki pant with a placid expression on his face, an expression you've never seen on him before, lips parted and his eyes barely open. His arms quiver slightly, trembling from the aftershocks.

His head spins, his heart pounds until it calms. His cheeks blister with warmth, his chest aches from the weight of his breaths. He reaches up, running a palm over his face, rubbing his eyes — his vision goes fuzzy, then returns after he blinks — and he pushes messy strands of hair away, tucking them behind his ears. When he glances down at you, you're already looking up at him. There's a slight smile on your face, captivating as ever.

Pretty, you're so pretty.

continue reading on ao3

hello! I'm sorry to have to cut the fic off here, but unfortunately tumblr won't allow the entirety of this chapter to be posted because it's so fucking long... if you like it so far and you want to read the rest pls consider hopping over to ao3... thank you 🫂

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa smut #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you

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luvrodite · 3 months ago

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RO'S KINKTOBER 2024

welcome to my second kinktober event!!! last year was so much fun and i hope you enjoy this one even more!!

warnings. please mind the individual warnings on each fic and bear in mind that you are responsible for your own media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it! if you feel as though something is missing a tag, please let me know!

happy reading!

ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!

ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE

GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S) [3.8k]

in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it. (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, penetrative text, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, prevention of pulling out.

ᯓ★ TWO. OCTOBER 5 | COCKWARMING

SIT STILL, LOOK PRETTY [1.3k]

jason doesn’t know what’s come over you, but he’s going to finish this chapter. then, if you’re good – and only then, he’ll make you cum.

content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, dominant jason, cockwarming

ᯓ★ THREE. OCTOBER 12 | MASK KINK

HUNT YOU DOWN, EAT YOU ALIVE

"did no one ever tell you not to walk around at night by yourself? it’s not safe around these parts." the only problem with his warning is – he looks like the not safe in question.

content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, predator/prey scene, public sex. more tags to come

ᯓ★ FOUR. OCTOBER 19 | INFIDELITY

SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY, I'LL SAY, 'I GOT SOMEONE TOO'

he's patient. he knows how to play the long game, he's done it before. a new boyfriend is a hitch. that's all it is. he's always been a good problem solver.

content warnings. f!reader, cheating, obsessive jason todd. more tags to come

ᯓ★ FIVE. OCTOBER 26 | VIBRATOR

WHAT'S UP, BULLET?

in retrospect, it had been wishful thinking for you to hope your boyfriend wouldn't find out about the toy you kept hidden in a box beneath your bed. you just hadn't expected this reaction.

content warnings. f!reader, use of vibrator, minor overstim, cunnilingus, fingering. more tags to come

ᯓ★ OCTOBER 31 | SUCCUBUS

EXORCISM...

jason knows a thing or two about bad dreams, but the pretty thing that's been haunting his nights couldn't possibly be so bad, right?

...SEE YOU IN YOUR DREAMS!

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent, monsterfucking, succubus reader. more tags to come

ⓘ a reminder that you alone are responsible for your media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it!

#divider by inklore #jasonsmirrorball #kinktober 2024 #jay my heart #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic

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canon-in-too-deep · 2 months ago

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Free Grimms' Fairy Tales Typeset

I am so very excited to present free typeset #33: Grimms' Fairy Tales, by, of course, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. (Apologies for this being quite a long post, but I really wanted to show pictures of what's available in these typesets!) When I saw this in my ask box, I knew I had to do a typeset for it. But there were so many individual tales, and I wanted to do something a bit unique for each of them. But I also wanted to use a lot of color. And throw in some art. And that might make the typeset not so super printer friendly for some folks, so....

I made two versions of this typeset! Two different designs and color options. Both pdfs are available for FREE here and are sized for half letter (letter folio).

Grimms' Fairy Tales typeset version one is the full color version with a lot of little details and different art/motifs for each story (most of the art I used was by Maurice Pillard Verneuil; his stuff is so pretty).

And for the second version of the typeset (which I dubbed the Black and White, Hold the Art Alt in my google drive archive--I need a shorter name for that. The Deep Drive? Drivechive? Googachive?--I went black and white printer friendly, with prominent featuring ornaments and a more simple design.

You can see the differences clearly above. Both these typesets were a lot of fun to make, and I hope they print out well for people wanting to use them. It's one I hope to be able to print out soon for myself, to have as a personal physical copy. I kept stopping in the middle of typesetting just to read a few tales. (Cat-Skin and Snow White and Rose-Red are my two favorite tales (I just love the changed appearance lover trope), though The Juniper-Tree has a a solid standing with best revenge death.) Anyway, use these typesets as you wish! If there's any issues with the files, feel free to let me know! Just please leave credit and consider tagging me if you use them, or reblog if you can! More details and interior shots of the first version are below the break!

So the black and white version has pretty much the same design across all the different chapters, while the color version has a different swatch of art featured next to each title, to give some flair to each individual story. The whole double border around the drop caps was inspired by another (much more talented than I) member on Renegade Bindery, but I added in the extra picture frame for the motifs and changed some things around to get the sort of clean, classic, elegant vibe I was hoping for (originally, I was going to use good ol' IM FELL English and go with a much more gritty, vintage-y design, but changed it after seeing how well Crimson Text worked for the fairy tales (like I've said before, Crimson Text is a special occasion sort of font). Here's some more screenshots of the chapter beginnings (albeit a bit pixelated. Dang screenshots and their low quality):

The table of contents is pretty fun as well, extending the same borders and motifs design to full three pages:

And the fun also extended to the last page with info on the Brothers Grimm:

All in all, this was one of my favorite books to work on. If you have any suggestions for future typesets, my ask box is always open! Edit: also, the borders/frames going around the dropcaps were inspired by a design I saw done by the talented @teleportbooks!

#Grimms' Fairy Tales by Jacob Grimm and Wilhelm Grimm #grimms' fairy tales #fairy tales #typesets #typesetting #book design #bookbinding #book #free to use

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basil-fronsac · 24 days ago

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WILD GEESE ♧ social media a.u.

─ · · 01. NEW BEGINNINGS

pairing: spencer agnew x reader

summary: having cleared the hurdles of your first day at smosh, things seem to be going smoothly. that is, until a few late night conversations cause a shift in your perspective.

tags: feminine pronouns / seemingly unrequited relationships / mentions of drinking / reader is an up-and-coming lifestyle + comedy youtuber

NAVIGATION | PROLOGUE | PART TWO (coming soon)

💐 yourusername

liked by spennser, filmingamanda, and others

yourusername big long day 🧺

i can safely say the first day jitters have subsided! additionally, i know this probably isn’t the ideal place, but i just wanted to take this space to express how truly grateful i am for smosh and for this opportunity. as many of you know, i desperately needed to get out of new york, and lost in a new city. these past few months have been a rollercoaster, but i feel as if i’ve finally arrived at the end. ian and anthony, thank you so so much for taking me on and allowing me to join your wonderful troup of extremely talented individuals, both on and off screen. whatever my future holds, i know working here will change me irrevocably—i’m so stoked.

view all 422 comments...

ianhecox i hope the welcome party wasn't too shabby... (liked by yourusername)

username06 smoshmouth appearance???

↳ username07 omg smosh pleasepleasepleaseplease

↳ username08 (name) and amanda in the same room 🤞

mal_myerz day was stressful but nevertheless she slayed

↳ yourusername a joint slay i fear

anthonypadilla so glad to have you here! (liked by yourusername)

username09 the scream i scrumpt

↳ username10 still can't believe she booked!!

↳ username09 or that she actually left winthrop in nyc

username10 WE HAVE CONFIRMATION

smoshgames 🔥

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | now

unknown sender

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | 12m ago

sweetheart lovey-dovey wifey 💗🍒

( 💬 ) MESSAGES | 36m ago

unknown sender

(🔔) yourusername, see what's happening on twitter!

a/n: surprised myself with how quickly i got this out!! please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and thank you so much for reading xx

would you guys like to see more longform writing in future chapters? lmk

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh x reader #social media au #spencer agnew fanfic #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew fanfiction #x reader #spencer agnew imagine #basil fronsac

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hwashotcheeto · 11 months ago

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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

This is an 18+ series. DNI if you are under 18.

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Status: On going

Summary: It's your third year of college, and Winter Break is right around the corner. Having no plans this year, you ask your best friend, Wooyoung, if you can go home with him and meet his family. You don't know anything about them, but it has to be better than spending a month alone.

And meeting his "mother" is definitely better than spending Winter Break by yourself.

General CW: Age gap (~20 years, I guess, no ages are specified, but everyone is at least 21+) smut (Mommy kink throughout), fluff, angst

Here's the Best Friend's Mother Masterlist! Individual word counts and content warnings will be listed in the chapters themselves, instead of a long ass paragraph here, forcing you to hunt for which chapter contains which act.

Since I'm doing this with a gender neutral reader, I'm going to do this in a way so no one is left out. I'll have two different versions of the smut chapters so you can choose your preferred body type (or you can read both, whatever works for you)!

When I post a new chapter, I'll make a post with the tag list and the links to the different versions of the chapter. Both links will be accessible from here, of course.

All smut chapters are also stand alone, so for those who don't want to read it, you can skip to the next chapter! The story in them will be minimal for that purpose.

Any questions, please message me!

And finally, as always, thank you to my love @malldreamprincess for help with the moodboard (it was a joint effort this time), show her some love.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆

Prologue/Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

#ateez #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez fluff #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa ff #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

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fairyysoup · 3 months ago

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the devil i know

chapter two: look here all you want

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets your car back. You're trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

cw: deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, depictions of abuse, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie makes sure that the man feels him before he sees him. It may be cruel, but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic– once a Dungeon Master, always a Dungeon Master– and what’s Hell without a little fun and debauchery?

The man smells Eddie’s sickly sweet, smoky aroma first. It’s the first thing anyone notices about him, of course. The shit follows him everywhere, alerting people of his presence like a fucking cat collar with a bell on it. The wind that he conjures always smells at least like a bonfire– at worst, he’s the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He guesses it’s some sort of infernal practical joke (he formed the hellfire club in life, so now he has to remain in it for the rest of time, or some shit. Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know all the answers, just the dumb ones).

Then the man jolts, his eyes flying all around him as he hears Eddie. Or, at least, what Eddie allows him to hear. It begins in whispers, like leviathans in the mists, murmuring and overlapping each other. It rocks slowly toward a crescendo. And then, Eddie’s voice, soft before the man realizes what’s happening to him.

“Found you.”

There’s a sickening crack, and then the windshield of the car explodes beneath the man’s spine. He barrel rolls to the ground to find Eddie looming over him, staring him down, his eyes dead black and unforgiving.

“Hi, Spencer.” The heel of Eddie’s boot crushes against the man’s chest, holding him down. Eddie’s voice is comically musical, like the crackling of brush just beginning to go up in flames. “Busy tonight, are we?”

The man, Spencer, trembles as he stares up at Eddie. Blood tinges his bottom lip, either from biting it when he hit the windshield, or from coughing up whatever blood exists in his fermented body.

He gestures at the duffel bag that he’d been holding when Eddie grabbed him, now laying on the ground. “Look, man– I dunno who you are, b-but you can have all the fuckin’ money, it’s right there–”

“I don’t want your fucking money.” Eddie squints at him, trying to gauge Spencer’s thoughts. They’re malicious, yes, but not murderous. He robbed the liquor store down the street, and then he pulled into the motel around the corner to try to check in with the money. He’s dangerous and stupid, but he’s not a killer. Yet.

Eddie didn’t have to read the guy’s mind to know that, though.

“Whose car is this?”

“What?”

“Whose–” Eddie digs his boot harder into the guy’s chest– “Car?”

“Some fuckin’ small town whore, how should I know?” Now is not the time to play coy. Spencer learns that when Eddie’s foot shoots forward, and the toe of his book connects ungraciously with his chin. Pain rockets through his jaw. “Fuck!”

“Save it.” Eddie’s temper has grown exponentially with his immortality, he thinks. He wonders sometimes if he’d always been this way, or if Hell has just made him worse. Probably both. “Do you have any idea who you’ve stolen from?”

He’s seen the memory– Spencer, drunk off his ass and running on blind adrenaline from robbing a corner store, stole your car from the parking lot of a diner; the diner where you work.

You had to walk home in the rain. Eddie’s heart practically aches, watching you come home to an empty apartment, dirty and wet and shivering. He never wants to see it happen to you again as long as you live. He’s promised you that it won’t.

He also promised they’ll get as good as they gave. And demon or not, Eddie Munson never ever goes back on a promise.

“Hell, I stole from lotsa people,” Spencer chuckles, his head sliding back and forth across the pavement as he rolls his eyes, gargling on the blood in his mouth. “F’yer here to collect, y’can just take the money and go. I ain’t got nothin’ else.”

“Oh, but you do, Spence.” Eddie grins with sharp teeth when he bends down to pick Spencer up by his throat. The flames in his eyes burst to life, roaring red and demonic. A flash of recognition crosses Spencer’s face when he realizes that Eddie is far more than he seems. “See, you stole from my girl. Now you get to suffer.”

Eddie was always intimidating. He made himself appear like that to push people away, until it started to backfire on him, and then it just got worse when he became a demon. It’s a natural instinct for humans to shrink away. He emanates danger, even when he’s not putting on a show– even when his eyes are dark and he isn’t producing fire from his hands.

That’s one of the things that sealed your fate. You didn’t shrink away from him, even when he tested you. He’s always been a show off, and he’s very egotistical, he won’t lie. He gave you a little taste of his dark side, showed you his hellfire and brimstone, and you called him hot. To his face.

Well, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Even if he wasn’t already sold on you, there was absolutely no way he was letting you go after that.

Eddie dumps Spencer on the ground. In Spencer’s head, the haunting voices seem to crash back raucously as magma boiling at the lip of a volcano. A chill sweeps through Spencer’s body as it retreats, as he feels the creeping panic rising in him, the ringing in his ears. Then, as soon as it fades, it’s again overthrown by the chorus, the cacophony of behemoth voices. Overlapping each other, humming along with the slow heartbeat of the drums.

It’s the arc toward the end of the death metal album Eddie wanted to write during his lifetime, but never got the chance to. It has to be good for something, even if Spencer is never going to appreciate Eddie’s musical genius.

Spencer doesn’t need to know that, though.

Spencer lays trembling, his hands clapped tight around his ears. Nothing will stop it, save time– and by then, Spencer will probably be wishing Eddie had just killed him and gotten it over with.

Eddie steps around Spencer’s body, sighing. If Hell has made him cruel, it’s also made him weirdly just. Great power, great responsibility… all that jazz.

Yeah, the powers are pretty fucking cool, he won’t lie about that.

The windshield of the car decompresses itself at Eddie’s touch, the glass creaking and groaning as it fits back into proper shape. From there, it glows bright orange and melts back into one solid pane of glass, back in the way that it had been before Spencer’s back played Happy New Year with it.

Eddie sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers nearly denting the steering wheel where he grips it. He just hopes that you don’t freak out when he gets your car back to you.

You freak out.

Granted, you only made the deal with Eddie yesterday, and you had a long day at work. For you, the afternoon had been painfully slow. Maybe it was a good thing that the diner doesn’t have a major rush every single lunch service, but it just means more of the shit work that your newbie manager, Colin, loves to give to you now that he has the authority to. You don’t know if it’s payback for you making him slice bread during his training, but he’s taking it a little bit too seriously.

You’re technically a waitress, so it’s really not in your fucking job description, but tonight he made you clean the men’s bathroom.

Did you know how many men will just ejaculate onto the wall of the men’s bathroom in a small town diner? No. But now you do, and the answer is too many.

You had to walk home, as per usual since your car was stolen a little less than a week ago. And then you got to your apartment complex, got to the last place on the last row of buildings, and your fucking car was there, in your parking space. Beautiful and gleaming and with fresh license plates.

You’re freaking out. You absolutely are– you didn’t think it was going to happen this quickly. You figured there must be some kind of wait period. Demons aren’t obligated to make shit happen right away, are they?

(They’re not. But this demon could care less.)

When you get inside, all it takes is a single whiff of smoke to deduce that he’s there. In your apartment. With all the lights turned off. You flick one on and find nothing.

“Eddie?” You say his name out loud for the first time, your voice muddled with awe. The faintest of murmurs, but to him you may as well have screamed it.

The lights flicker, and in a flash he’s standing before you. Across the room, leaning against the door to the bedroom like a vision. His eyes crackle with fire, a coy smirk on his face. “I like the way you say my name. It’s pretty.”

You startle, your body suddenly functioning apart from your mind. Your back hits the front door you’ve just stepped through, mirroring him.

“Whoa whoa whoa– hey! It’s okay.” He holds his hands out toward you, palms up, like you’re a frightened animal. In a way, you are. “We’ve been through this before, princess. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m just your friendly neighborhood demon.”

Eddie reminds himself to stop rewatching Spider-Man every time he gets a chance.

It has to be fake, you think. You’re exhausted, he couldn’t be here. And yet the room is filled with his fragrance, suffocating and somehow intoxicating. Like you might die from it but you’ll enjoy it all the same. It’s so magnetic that it nearly pulls you to him, taking a hesitant step forward toward the bedroom and then stopping short.

“How– you’re not– how are you here?” You ask him as softly as you can manage. “I thought you could only show up at a crossroads.”

“Not everything is literal, sweetheart.” He thumps his hand against the door behind him, giving you a dazed smile. “Points of entry and departure. Two paths meeting. Crossroads.”

“Huh.”

Eddie takes in the sight of you steadily, calmly, worried that if he moves too suddenly then you might disappear. You’re wearing a black, retro-style waitress’ dress and running shoes– muddy from your walk home. You clutch your house keys to your chest almost instinctively.

That reminds him of the reason that he’s here– not just to check you out, unfortunately. He brandishes your car keys, dangling them from one crooked finger. “Brought you your car.”

“Yeah, I, uh… I noticed.” After a heavy beat, you look away. Your voice is thick with tears– you’re crying. “Sorry. Thank you. I didn’t, um– I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Hey– You didn’t.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with your tears– he doesn’t want to see you cry, ever, but he’s spent a little too much time causing tears to know how to effectively stop them anymore. He places the keys on the counter nearest him, leading into the kitchen. “I know, it’s not what you’re used to.”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s nice.”

Eddie rocks back against the door, pressing into it. The wood creaks under his weight. “Nice,” he echoes. “Haven’t been called that in a while. It’s… nice.”

You snort, and it’s enough to have him grinning all over again. You turn away slightly, and when you turn back you smile at him sheepishly. Trying to suck back the tears that had sprung forth so quickly. “How did you get the car back?”

He squints. He thinks to remind you that he has magic, something that a normal person wouldn’t be able to use– except, he didn’t just poof it into your parking space. He drove it, like a dumbass.

He clicks his tongue. Be cool. “I had a talk with the guy who stole it. He won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

“Oh my god– you killed him?”

Not that cool. “No! No, I– I would nev–” you’re a demon– “I would seriously consider the consequences–”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Hey, I got you the car back. Without killing! Even though it took so so so much impulse control, please clap.” He tilts his head and grins at you. He figures he probably looks insane with his glowing eyes and cheshire cat smile.

You nod and take a calculated step forward. You point at the open wine bottle on your kitchen counter. “I’m getting a drink.”

He shrugs. “You own the place.”

“No, I don’t,” you scoff, approaching him. The scent of smoke grows stronger with each step, until you’re engulfed in it. “I pay rent up the ass because I can’t afford any place else.”

Eddie watches you pour a glass of wine with the interest of a collector looking at a piece of fine art. “What would you prefer?”

The air hangs thick with implication. What do you want me to do? Eddie holds the edge of the counter with his ringed fingers, watching your brow screw up in contemplation. He wants to reach forward and smooth it over with his thumb, get rid of any worries you might have.

He’s a sorry son of a bitch, is what he is.

“What I want–” you stop, your eyes falling to his hand. You stare at it for a long time. Hard knuckles that you’re sure have drawn blood, clunky rings like weapons. You wonder why he keeps them there indefinitely, why he chooses those accessories, keeps this form. He’s intimidating, dangerous-looking, and yet you feel a weird sort of comfort around him.

He’s the most dangerous thing in any room, and he’s asking what you want.

You look up into the demon’s smoldering eyes, and take a breath. “What I need is to not take home pocket change, because my shithead manager won’t stop skimming my tips. Y’know I trained the fucker?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Piece of shit won’t stop giving me crap work just because he can, and I’m– I’m–”

Eddie wordlessly nudges the wine glass towards you with the tip of his finger. You grab it and take a long gulp.

You sort of stutter and cough, trying to catch your breath when your tears of exhaustion keep wanting to spill. You’re furious. You’re so fucking angry that it’s vibrating in your bones, threatening to wither and crack them under its force. You start breathing in heavy, short bursts of air that don’t do much to calm you down at all.

“I’m barely making enough to cover my rent even with my tips,” you continue. “But now he’s stealing them and I’m having to skip breakfast to save food and I can’t find another job because the people in this town fucking hate me–”

A warm hand settles onto your back, heavy between your shoulder blades. A little bit of the tension in your shoulders melts and releases, but along with it comes the tears you were holding back. You shiver, leaning further into his touch as though it’ll ground you. Your sinuses are sore and your eyes sting as hot tears slide down your cheeks, but you let Eddie hold you up.

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” Eddie smirks when you cough out a little laugh that sounds more like a hiccup, but he’ll take it. “What? I’m so fucking serious. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you anymore. What kind of a demon daddy would I be if I did?”

“Shut up.” You bat his chest with the back of your hand. He chuckles, and the sound is as warm and soothing as his hand on your back. Your lip wobbles, your brow screwing up as you try to even out your voice, but you just come out sounding like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. “What are you, a genie with three wishes? I tell you my sorrows and you snap your fingers and fix it?”

“You get a lot more than three with me, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. His eyes are unwavering, his hand stroking lightly back and forth between your shoulders in a way that has you hypnotized, leaning towards him. “And it may take more than just snapping my fingers, but yes. I’ll do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married, baby.” He holds your gaze gently, hoping not to upset you any further. “‘Til death do we part,’ right? We’re a team now. Your needs, my needs. That’s why you signed the contract. That’s why I gave you this.” Eddie’s warm hand ghosts over your wrist, and the mark that bears his name seared into your skin. The mark tingles, itching with recognition at his touch. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

You’re still crying. Big, glossy tears falling down your cheeks, making him falter. He’s floundering. He doesn’t know how to make them stop, and the more he tries to get you to tell him, the harder they’re falling. You aren’t hyperventilating anymore, thank fuck, but you’re still quietly sobbing, and you’re not telling him what he needs to know.

Eddie tries searching for it. Squints at you, tries reaching into your mind to find what you need– sort of the same way that he saw the memory of you and the fucker who stole your car. All he gets is one repetitive thought, spinning around in the forefront of your mind.

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.

“C’mere,” he tells you softly. Eddie reaches forward, turning you slowly by the shoulder until you’re facing him. He watches your face for any kind of disgust– there’s nothing, save the big tears that keep falling.

He pulls on your shoulder, just barely, and you crumple. You face plant into his chest and take a deep, shuddering breath that rattles in your lungs and tastes like a campfire. Eddie is warm as a space heater and his arms are strong, wrapped around you tightly to keep you from falling.

Eddie holds you until he feels you stop crying. He thinks. Maybe you’re still crying, but it isn’t shaking your entire body anymore, and he feels like that’s a move in the right direction.

“Just say the word,” he speaks into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. A timid hand comes up to pet the back of your head. He hasn’t held someone like this in ages. “I can try to read your mind, but then I get the wrong idea, and you won’t like what I’ll do. I’m willing to do anything for you, honest. But y’gotta tell me, baby.”

You hesitate, and then you pull back, puckering your lips in a way that distracts him. He fixates on them, tilting his head as he watches the way they move. Remembering how they felt on his own when he kissed you last night. He hasn’t kissed someone in ages, either.

“No killing Colin,” you conclude, knocking him out of his reverie. He groans. “I’m serious! He’s a dick, but I don’t want that on my conscience. Please, Eddie.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, pouting and stomping his feet. “But you wouldn’t feel that way if you saw the kind of torture we can whip out in ye olde Hell. Make your skin crawl right the fuck off. Ooh! That’s actually a good idea–”

“Maybe, sometime.” You shake your head. “But not now. Just… get him to quit. Or something. Okay?”

Your hand presses into Eddie’s chest. It feels like a blast straight into his infernal heart. His eyes fall to it, taking in the willing touch that you give him and letting it define his entire being for a second.

Oh, he’s in trouble. He’s really, really done for.

“Okay, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His kiss is a ghost of a touch on your cheek, just barely a whisper of skin on skin. Just enough to make you gasp and nearly turn your head, to lock his lips with yours. You practically fight the urge to do it. Your heartbeat kicks up– not for the reason you think it should, either. You aren’t scared. He doesn’t make you nervous– at least, not in an uncomfortable way.

You want Eddie to press his lips to yours, and you want him to hold you again. You want him to stay indefinitely. Make a home on your couch and hold you in his lap all night. You think that if you asked him, he might do it. Anything you want, right?

But he pushes away from the kitchen counter, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, in a rush of air carrying his scent. With a sigh, you sink back on your heels, finding yourself wishing that his arms were still there around you, to catch you before you fall.

You lift your glass of wine to your lips. The imprint of his name still itches on your wrist.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #tdik!fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie munson #demon!eddie #roses*

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httpscomexe · 4 months ago

Text

Ensnared 2

Summary: You finally get your room, but a little jealousy check leaves you ending up in Logan's room instead.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Blood, violence, jealousy, injuries, Y/N faints around blood, a little comfort, sixth sense, foul language, separate POV, chapters 3 and further WILL include non-con aspects. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Let me know if I missed anything. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 4099 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 3

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Logans POV

“Hey, watch it-” His voice broke off as soon as his eyes found her, and he immediately calmed down, his hands now gripping her shoulders more carefully as he held her steady.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologised, taking a step back as he reluctantly let go of her. “Where can I find Xavier?” His ears don’t listen to her voice, instead his eyes are watching the way her lips move as she speaks.

He lets go of her. “He’s probably still in his office.” Her eyes softened, and she seemed to study his face.

“Uhm, where’s his office?”

“Are you new here?” He asks her, and she sort of shrugs before telling him “kind of.” Then he turns around, and heads towards Xaviers office, expecting her to follow behind him. Completely forgetting about the beer he had stashed in the back of the fridge, which was the reason he wasn’t in his room in the first place. But then you showed up.

He reaches the door, and notices a change in her eyes as he reaches for the handle to Xavier's office, then she shot her hands out suddenly, gripping his forearm and keeping him from opening the door. He didn’t mind though, just her touch was sending waves of heat through his body. More words spilling past her lips that he couldn’t hear before she lets go and Xavier opens his office door.

He doesn’t remember the conversation after that. He just remembers staring at her as the light shone on her face from the office light, and he was hoping the image of the way her lips moved would be imprinted in his brain. He knew he had to have you.

“Finally decided to move in?”

“Move in?” He wonders, he’d be able to see you.

More of the conversation goes straight through his head.

“You have healing powers?”He asks, trying to see at least a little interest.

Then more conversation as she answered him. Any longer standing next to her and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands in his pockets. Then Xavier brings her into the room with him, cutting the conversation short.

Without even a good night, he just walks away, knowing if he had stared at you for one more second, he would’ve busted just by watching her lips move.

The next day wasn’t any better, he had stayed up all night just thinking about her, and when he got to see her again in the afternoon, he immediately felt better, Vincent trying to hang out with him as usual, but Vincent was nothing special like you were. He needed-

You.

Readers POV

You were ecstatic, it was Tuesday and you would finally have your own room, and Xavier tells you that Logan picked out some clothes as well that you might like. You couldn’t wait as you woke up in the morning, immediately searching for Logan, whom you’ve come surprisingly close to in the span of two days, and you normally found him in his room, just relaxing.

You don’t bother knocking, he’s told you to just come in, so you do. Immediately barging into his room and hopping onto the foot of his bed, his eyes watching you.

“So my room?” You ask.

“It’ll be done by 12.” Groaning, you lean back until you’re on your back, the stretch of your skin hurting the bruises on your ribs and stomach, making you wince. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, groaning as you sit back up.”

“You’re lying, something hurts, what is it?” Your jaw tightens as you squeeze your teeth together, and just before you speak, his bedroom door opens. The same brown haired girl coming in as usual, every time you were in there. You assumed she was Logan's girlfriend, or something in that matter, but he talks so poorly of her.

“Vincent, I’ve asked you to knock.” You notice the change in his tone every time he talks to her. It’s soft when he speaks to you, but when he talks to her he sounds pissed every time.

“She doesn’t.” She shrugs, pointing at you before coming to sit on the bed, but Logan stretches his leg out just before she can sit and join.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to leave. We’re having a private conversation that she wouldn’t want to share with you.” You squint your eyes, wanting to say he’s lying through his teeth, but it was true. You only trusted Logan with this information.

“Fine. Okay, Lo. Bye, and bye hun.” Vincent turns back around, making a disgusted face as she faces you, but Logan's face matches her disgust when she uses his newly acquired nickname.

“Doesn’t sound the same when she says it.” He tells you, turning back to you. “So what’s wrong?” He tries on the subject, watching your chest as you sigh heavily.

“You know the video I sent you?” You recall the video of the men attacking you.

“Yea, the assholes who tried to kick your ass.”

“Yes. The one dude that ran after me did eventually catch up, and…” You voice softens, and you slowly lift your sweater, revealing the purple and blue bruises that were painted across your stomach and ribs.

“Holy shit, he did that?” He sounded actually pissed as he stood up, suddenly laying you down before lifting your sweater further, only stopping when you hold the sweater at your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. “Those assholes…” He mumbles, his left hand gently gliding over your bruises. Half of your body wants to punch him, but you know he’s just being friendly. You never took him as one to love physical touch, but he adored being touched or touching someone else.

“Yea, but it’s okay now.” You tell him, watching as he shakes his head before his hand finally lies flat on your lower stomach where there were no bruises.

“No it isn’t, this looks painful.”

You shrug. “Can’t do anything about it.” You whisper to yourself mostly, his eyes seemingly getting darker as his eyes move from your skin to the wall, a thought coming to his head.

“Yea, you’re right.” But he didn’t sound confident as he removed his hand from your stomach and helped you sit up.

“Just don’t tell anyone yet. I don’t want Xavier to over react.”

“I won’t but what about your checkup on Friday?”

“I asked if I could keep my clothes on, because I don’t like revealing my body.”

He wanted to ask why. Why wouldn’t you want to reveal your body? It was amazing, it was everything he’s ever wanted.

“Is that true? Or just an excuse?” You don’t say anything for a moment, not wanting to make the moment awkward but ultimately failing at best. “Darling.” He says finally, leaning forward until his face is just a few inches from yours. “You are absolutely gorgeous, don’t ever think otherwise.” You smile a little, basking in the compliment, ignoring the red sirens in your head.

“Well, thank you.” You awkwardly start to pick at your nails. “I should probably get going, I’m sure you're busy, and Xavier needed me for something.” You lie, some sort of sixth sense beginning to poke at your body. “But text me when the room is done please.” You stand, getting off his bed and he watches you move.

“Of course, I’ll see you later.”

Throughout the next few hours, you couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder. Your body was telling you something was off and you weren’t sure what it was. You were supposed to be safe and feel safe in the mansion, but for some reason, your brain suddenly wouldn’t settle.

“Hey.” A voice comes from behind you and a hand is placed on your shoulder.

“Oh, hey.” You mumble, Scotts hand still on your shoulder as he walks next to you.

“So, Logan was telling me he wanted to hand you the key to your room, but I saw you walking so here.” He holds the key out on his index finger, it dangles from a little chain.

“Why would it matter who hands it to me?” You take the key as you ask the question.

“I guess he wanted to see your reaction or something,” He takes his hand off. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, thank you, Scott. I’ll head upstairs right now.”

“Alright cool, if you need anything let me or Logan know, and by the way we also put clothes in the drawer. Xavier asked us to.” He lets you know before nodding to his friend group. “But nice seeing you, hope you like the room.” He finishes, then jogs off to his friends as you split off into another hallway, making your way up the stairs and to your room.

The second you walk in, you freeze, taking a moment before you could actually close the door. The room was nice of course. You loved it. But they had put a LOT more effort into the room than Xavier had led on. It wasn’t plain and dark wooded like all of the other rooms. Your room was lighter coloured, and the bedsheets and furniture were a girly design. Some are adorned with flower patterns or glittered with sparkles. And you’re surprised.

But that wasn’t what your eyes immediately landed on. No.

It was the bouquet on your bedsheets.

Your favourite flowers, all nicely put into a bow tie, were just sitting there, a little tag on it with Logan's name scribbled onto it. You didn’t take him for one with good handwriting.

You lift the flowers, smelling them. They were beautiful, you couldn’t deny that, but it all felt so wrong, inappropriate even. But you walk over to a little desk with your flowers, noticing an empty vase sitting on the table, already filled with water for you, so you cut the tie on the flowers and gently arrange them in the vase before texting Logan.

You put your phone away, your palms placed on the desk as you stare into the mirror attached to the wall. He had wanted to show you the room at 12, but it was past then. It was already 5 in the afternoon, did he not expect Scott to just hand you the keys? Whatever.

You think, examining the room a little further and opening the drawers to see what clothes he’d purchased for you.

In the closet there were hoodies hanging, and a few pairs of shoes including heels were set on low shelves. In the drawers were the pants, some skirts, short shorts, and a few pairs of sweats. In the other drawer were some bras and panties, all neatly folded. They weren’t exactly your style though. You were a more comfortable person when it came to bras and panties, and what he had purchased were all lace, apart from a few sports bras for if you went out exercising.

You didn’t mind it though. It was sweet of him to put as much time in as he did for you, but you still felt like he overdid it, like he had done more than he was expected to do.

Just then, as you begin to become lost in your thoughts, there’s a knock at your door, and not a second passes before it opens, you had forgotten to lock it, and Vincent's face proves it.

“Hey-”

“Don’t fucking play with me.” She cuts you off, closing the door behind her before storming up to you. “I know what you’re doing, and it better-” She pauses, her eyes landing on the vase of flowers, Logan's name still hanging from one of the stems. “He got you these?”

You nod, taking a step back from her.

“He doesn’t even buy me, his literal fucking lover any flowers, but then he gets you flowers?”

“Wait, you two are-?”

“Yes you fucking idiot.” She raises her voice a little as she speaks to you. “For years now it’s just been me and him, but ever since you’ve shown up, he’s ALWAYS around you and he never stops talking about you, so you need to back the fuck off.” Her finger points at you as she approaches you until your back is against the wall.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but I’m not even going at him, I only ever go see him when he asks or if it’s important, otherwise I never actually see him-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Your voice finally starts to raise a little.

“Then why the fuck were you in his room on his bed earlier?”

“Because I had a question.”

“He said it was personal.” You pause, your lips slightly parted. “What could that possibly mean?” She scoffs. “I mean are you two fucking?”

“Absolutely not, sorry, I’m not interested in him.”

“Then what was so private that-”

“There was nothing private about it.” It was your turn to interrupt her, and slowly begin to stalk towards her, having enough of her attitude. “I’m sorry that you’re so self conscious about your boyfriend that you have to yell at me and confront me instead of trusting him, but this is not my problem. And for the record, the conversation wasn’t private, so you might want to check in with Logan to make sure he actually loves you, it seems to me he wanted you gone.”

Her face hardens, but she says nothing.

Until her fist collides with your face, pain shooting through your body from the already horribly placed bruise on your cheek.

So you hit back, and it’s back and forth throwing punches, you of course having the advantage from years of hiding and self defence. You punch at her until she’s on the floor before climbing down on top of her, hitting more punches to her face until there’s a shooting pain in the side of your thigh, making you scream in pain and fall off of her as she gets on top of you, leaving her knife in your thigh as it was her turn to punch your face, her knuckles mainly colliding with the already bruised part of your skin. Then she’s lifted off of you, thrown against the wall and you see her fall back to the floor out of the corner of your eye.

Groaning, you sit up. The knife is still sticking out of the side of your thigh making it painful to sit. You look up, and Logan is speaking to Vincent, but you couldn’t hear it. Then you shake your head a little, numbing the ringing sound of pain before gripping your bed frame and hoisting yourself up on the leg that wasn’t injured.

“So you fucking stab her?”

“She attacked me first!”

“I highly fucking doubt that.” He turns around, noticing you were not standing with beads of blood dripping down your thigh, enough to make it down to soak into the shoes you were wearing. “Are you okay? Hey, stay still.” He tells you, rushing over to help you stand.

“Don’t fucking help her, look at me!” Vincent demands, pointing at her face, her nose obviously broken as trails of blood seep past her lips.

“Yea and you fucking stabbed her!” He grits his teeth, trying not to yell since it was already most kids' time to fall asleep.

“She fucking started it.”

“No I didn’t…” You mumble, looking up at her with hate, wishing Logan wasn’t there so you could punch at her again, but you knew he would easily peel you off of her.

"I don’t care who started it, we need to get both of you to the nurse.” He finishes the argument before easily lifting you, making sure to be careful with your wound.

“Oh so you’re not gonna carry me?”

“Shut the fuck up and get the door.”

At the nurse, she doesn’t ask for an explanation. She simply takes care of Vincent, who was lucky she only had her nose dislocated, before asking Vincent to leave as she came over to you, Logan sitting behind you as you stood on your good leg.

“So I see Vincent doesn’t like you either.”

“Either?” You ask the nurse as she inspects the wound on your thigh.

“She tends to believe that every girl is after this boyfriend of hers, but no one knows who her boyfriend is.” You squint your eyes and look back at Logan.

“She said you were her boyfriend.”

“I’m not.” He growls. “She’s a fucking psycho.”

“She sure is.” The nurse mumbles, knowing she shouldn’t be expressing her opinion. “Wish you had broken her nose, then I wouldn’t have to see her.” She admits, grabbing a clean cloth from a counter.

You groan, dreading the moment the knife would have to be pulled from your body.

“So this is going to hurt obviously.” She tells you, bending down next to you and gripping the knife handle.

“Wait.” You say quickly, just before she’s about to. “Uh… I don’t-” You’re suddenly nervous. You knew it would need to be removed, but you really didn’t want it to be. You always got oozy around blood and sharp objects, such as knives and needles.

“Okay.” She nods towards Logan, who reaches forward and wraps his arms around you, holding your arms down to your sides and keeping you still.

“Logan-!” You scream, biting your teeth down in pain as the nurse pulls the knife out of your thigh, and it takes a moment for some reason, making her have to pull with more effort before it finally comes loose, a pained whimper leaving your lips as it comes out, blood pooling down your leg and onto the floor a little before she quickly covers the wound with the towel, Logans arms still wrapped around you.

“See the wasn’t so bad-” She looks at you, expecting to see your eyes fall on her, but they were closed, and your head was limp.

Yea, you’d passed out. You told her to wait for a reason, but she didn’t give you time to explain why. You knew you were going to pass out, and it was a good thing Logan was holding you, or you would’ve already been face planted on the tile floor.

“Oh.” She says, surprised. “She’s fainted.”

Logan's eyes squint in confusion as the nurse turns away and his finger gently is placed under your jaw as he continues to hold you, the nurse wrapping the cloth around your wound as she goes to collect what she needs for stitches.

He looks down at you, moving your head so it rests under his chin as he presses a soft kiss to your head. One you would punch him for if you were awake.

“I'll probably have to medicate her. I don’t know if it was the knife or blood that bothered her.” the nurse tells him, kneeling next to you with a kit to stitch the wound.

“It was probably the blood.”

“Which wouldn’t be too good. She’ll have to replace the bandage in the morning and a few more times, meaning there will be more blood until it heals.”

“I can help her.”

“What exactly happened with Vincent and her?” Logan looks down at you, making sure you were still faint before answering her.

“Vincent just walked into her room, yelling at her. Then she punched her.”

“Oh, Vincent is- well she’s something.” The nurse says, just as your eyes twitch slightly, but you keep them shut, your head spinning as you feel the needle the nurse was using go into your skin.

“Yea, Vincent is annoying, she can be a piece of shit. But Y/N only has a certain amount of patience. I just can’t believe Vincent punched her.” How did he know that?

“Yea, I’ll be sure to suspend Vincent, I know she has a home outside of the mansion.”

“And what about her?” He looks down at you, eyes still closed.

“Well, I know she didn’t start it, but she did still fight back instead of trying to get away. So I’ll have to send out a suspension for her too. Vincent will have her three days, then when she gets back, it will be Y/N's turn, we don’t want them outside both at the same time.”

There’s a clipping sound as the nurse cuts the wire she was stitching you with, and she stands, some blood on her gloves as she looks at you, your eyes finally opening.

“All done darling.” She smiles sweetly, nodding towards Logan so he lets you go.

“Thank- thank you.” How did he know Vincent had punched you first? He wasn’t there and no one actually described what had happened yet. You were with Vincent from when she arrived to when she left, neither of you had told Logan who did what first, only why.

“Of course, now was it the blood or knife that made you… faint.”

“The blood.” You mumble, hating even the word.

“Okay, well are you alright with Logan changing the wrap twice a day? So you don’t have to walk all the way down here?” You nod, and feel Logan take a deep breath, your back still against his chest but you feel too exhausted to move.

“Alright. Well, he’ll help you to bed of course, let me know if you need anything, and let me know if it starts to bleed profusely. As a matter of fact maybe you should sleep in the same room together.” She throws the idea out there as she cleans her area. “It would be smart in case you do wake up in blood, you’ll wind up and faint then bleed out.”

You turn to look at Logan, who only shrugs. It was up to you.

“Yea… I guess that would be a good idea.” You sigh a little, not exactly excited to have to sleep near Logan for the sake of your life.

“Alright then, well you two have a good night then.” Logan shifts behind you, then lifts you again as the nurse shoves a bottle into his pocket. “Only two a day, painkillers, she doesn’t have to take them, but she should only need them for the next two weeks.”

“Thank you, Ronda. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He places you on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable sitting before going to his drawer and taking out a shirt.

“Go ahead and take those off, they’re covered in blood.” He tells you, and you hesitate before looking down, your shorts ruined from blood, then you shift a little to make space and remove them, it’s painful. “Here, shirt too.” You look down again, yes, of course the shirt was ruined.

You sigh a little, pulling your shirt off over your head before quickly taking the shirt from him and replacing your last shirt. “I’m sorry for what happened-”

“How did you know?”

He freezes, and stares down at you.

“Know what?”

“That she was in my room.”

“I didn’t know. I was going in there to see how you liked your room but walked in on her kicking your ass.”

“For your information, I was kicking her ass.”

“This says otherwise.” He points to your thigh, wrapped in bandages, and you chuckle a little.

“Yea, if she hadn’t stabbed me though, I would’ve won.”

“I’m sure you would’ve.” He tells you, moving around the bed after switching off the lights to sit next to you, and he lifts his shirt off over his head, giving you a moment to look down at his toned abs before looking away, his shirt barely covering his eyes for a second.

“Wake me up if you need me.” He tells you, opening the pill bottle and handing you two pills.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need water?” You shake your head, taking the pills dry before he turns off his bedside lamp. “Okay, then good night.”

“Good night.” You echo, lying down next to him after turning out the lamp on your side as well.

And as your eyes close, the pain in your thigh subsiding, he falls asleep way before you, the bed shifting as he moves his weight closer to you. Except he doesn’t touch you like you expected him too, your body stiffening at the thought.

Behind you, his hand pauses as he sees you stiffen, you could feel his hand had gotten closer, the only reason he hadn’t touched you was because of the fear he could smell off of you. Fear he knew he would have to demolish.

#marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #logan #logan howlett x reader #logan james howlett #plus size reader #mcu #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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