#Whenever they make eye contact it takes a moment for one of them to break it off… whatever that means | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bettys-redwinesupernova · 4 months ago

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LINGER

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: a sweet, introverted bartender and obx’s very own troubled golden boy share an unspoken connection—until jealousy, misunderstandings, and unspoken feelings finally push them to confront the truth.

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy anon, and i hope it’s what you asked for :)

WARNINGS: brief angst, cursing, alcohol consumption, topper being annoying, jealous!rafe, jj being flirty with reader😝, “love” confessions, rafe not feeling good enough, mutual pining, but a cute fluffy end !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 3.8k (i got REALLY carried away !!)

THIRD PERSON +

The hum of conversation filled the bar on Figure 8, mingling with the low beats of a classic rock playlist. It was a quieter night than usual, with only a handful of regulars clustered at tables and the occasional newcomer drifting in. Y/N stood behind the bar, wiping down the polished surface even though it hardly needed cleaning. She wasn't one to sit idle, and, truth be told, she was grateful for something to do.

The nights when Rafe Cameron came in made it nearly impossible for her to relax.

He was seated at the far end of the bar now, nursing a drink he didn't seem all that interested in. His sharp jawline caught the low light, the curve of his lips tugged into what might have been a smirk—or perhaps he was just lost in thought. Either way, Y/N found it difficult not to glance at him every few minutes, only to whip her gaze away whenever his blue eyes threatened to meet hers.

She knew his routine well by now. Rafe always came in alone, usually later in the evening when the crowd had thinned out. He was polite—surprisingly so—but there was something about him that felt dangerous, like a storm rolling in just beyond the horizon. The other bartenders whispered about him when he wasn't around, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to the gossip. She only knew what she saw: a man who lingered a little too long, who seemed to light up when she stumbled through small talk, who always tipped well even though she was sure she got his drink orders wrong half the time.

Tonight, as she fiddled nervously with the sleeves of her long sleeve tee, she could feel his eyes on her. She braced herself, stealing one more calming breath before walking toward his side of the bar.

"Need a refill, Rafe?" she asked, her voice barely louder than the music.

Rafe looked up, his expression softening the moment he saw her. "Yeah," he said, pushing his glass forward. "Same thing as before, please."

Y/N nodded quickly and reached for the bottle of bourbon, her hands trembling slightly as she poured. She could feel his gaze burning into her, the weight of his attention making her heart pound in her chest.

"Long night?" he asked suddenly, his voice smooth but laced with something almost boyish.

"Hmm?" she mumbled, nearly sloshing the liquor over the rim of his glass. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sort of."

"You're always working so hard," he remarked, leaning forward just a fraction. "Not sure I've ever seen you take a break."

Her cheeks burned as she scrambled to wipe up a stray droplet of bourbon with the edge of her towel. "It's not so bad," she said quickly. "I don't mind staying busy."

"You're good at it," he said, and there was an odd sincerity in his voice that made her stomach twist. "The bartending, I mean. You've got this... thing. Like, you make people feel comfortable."

Y/N froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren't something she received often, and especially not from someone like Rafe Cameron. She fumbled with the garnish tray, pulling out a cherry and dropping it into his glass with shaking fingers.

"Thanks," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

He smiled then—a real, crooked smile that softened the edges of his typically hard demeanor. "I mean it," he said, taking the drink from her. His fingers brushed hers, just barely, but the contact sent a shiver down her spine. "You're easy to talk to, even when you're... y'know, kind of shy."

She blinked at him, unsure whether to laugh or apologise. Instead, she ducked her head, the warm feeling in her cheeks creeping up to her ears. "I, uh... I'm not great at talking. Sorry."

"Don't be," he said, his voice low and warm. "It's cute."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she was sure she'd imagined the way he looked at her—like she was something worth noticing. But before she could respond, the sound of someone calling her name from the other end of the bar jolted her back to reality. She muttered a quick excuse and darted away, her heart racing as she busied herself with another customer.

Rafe watched her go, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He hated how his chest tightened whenever she was near, how he felt like a nervous wreck every time she so much as glanced in his direction. She was sweet, kind-hearted, and far too good for someone like him.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself from lingering.

An hour later, the bar had grown busier, and Y/N found herself working harder to avoid Rafe's gaze. She didn't notice the arrival of Topper Thornton until his voice boomed across the room, drawing Rafe's attention.

Rafe liked watching her. She was different from anyone else he knew—a little clumsy, a little shy, but always kind. Too kind, he thought, for someone like him. She didn't belong to the same cutthroat world of backstabbing and manipulation that he did. She was sunshine, soft and untouchable, and every time he caught himself staring too long, he felt like a thief.

He didn't deserve her.

"Yo, Rafe!" Topper's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and grating. Rafe turned to see his best friend approaching with a blonde girl in tow. She was pretty in a polished, effortless way—designer dress, manicured nails, a confident smile that screamed old money.

"This is Whitney," Topper announced, nudging Rafe's shoulder. "Told her you've been a free agent too long."

Rafe forced a tight smile, shaking Whitney's hand. She was pretty, sure. She had that typical Kook look, all high cheekbones and cold elegance. But she didn't spark anything in him. Not like Y/N did.

"Hi," Whitney said, her voice lilting with practiced charm.

"Hey," Rafe replied, stealing a glance back at the bar.

Y/N had seen it all—the introduction, the way Whitney tilted her head flirtatiously, the way Topper patted Rafe on the back like he'd just scored a win. Her heart sank, and she turned her attention to cleaning the counter with exaggerated focus, hoping to block out the scene playing out before her.

It was stupid to feel this way. She and Rafe weren't anything, not really. He was just a customer, and she was the awkward bartender who could barely string a sentence together around him. But seeing him with someone else, someone who seemed to fit so effortlessly into his world, made her chest tighten painfully.

When Rafe returned to the bar for another drink, Y/N kept her head down. Her usual nervous warmth was replaced by a cold efficiency as she mixed his order.

"Here," she said curtly, sliding the glass across the counter without looking up.

Rafe frowned. "You okay?"

"Fine."

He hesitated, searching her face for something—anything—that would explain the sudden change in her demeanor. But she didn't give him the chance to linger this time, quickly turning away to serve another customer.

Rafe's stomach twisted. She was shutting him out, and he didn't know why. Was it Whitney? Did she think he liked her? He didn't, not in the way he liked Y/N. But how could he explain that without sounding like an idiot? What was he even thinking? They weren't even together.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of frustration and longing. Whitney clung to Rafe's arm, laughing at his half-hearted jokes and batting her lashes at him, but he barely noticed. His focus was on Y/N—on the way she avoided his gaze, the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced politeness in her voice whenever he ordered another drink.

She hated him now. He was sure of it.

"Rafe, are you even listening?" Whitney's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Yeah," he lied, forcing a tight smile.

But he wasn't. His mind was with Y/N, replaying every moment of the night, searching for the moment he'd ruined everything.

—

The crisp night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she stepped out of the bar, her breath curling in wispy clouds before vanishing into the dark. The quiet of the island after hours was always a comfort, the distant crash of waves on the shore a reminder of home. But tonight, no amount of serene surroundings could quiet the ache twisting in her chest.

She tightened her coat around her as she walked to her car, her mind replaying the evening in an endless loop. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Rafe Cameron in the bar. She'd grown used to his presence, even come to anticipate it with a nervous sort of excitement. But tonight was different. Tonight, he hadn't been alone.

Y/N hated the way her stomach had dropped at the sight of the blonde girl—Whitney, as she'd overheard Topper call her—clinging to Rafe's arm, her perfectly manicured nails resting on his bicep like she had every right to be there. The girl was beautiful, confident, and poised in a way Y/N knew she could never be. She was everything a Kook girl was supposed to be, and everything Y/N wasn't.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she drove home, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement doing little to soothe her. She felt ridiculous, stupid even, for letting herself feel this way. Rafe wasn't hers, and he never would be. He was just a guy who came into the bar, a customer she barely knew beyond the surface. But that wasn't entirely true, was it?

The way he lingered at the bar, the way he seemed to soften when he talked to her, the way he looked at her like she was someone worth noticing—it had all felt so real. She couldn't help but replay every stolen glance, every hesitant smile, every compliment he'd offered in his quiet, almost bashful way.

But now, all of that felt like a cruel joke. Maybe she'd imagined it, read too much into his kindness because she wanted to believe it was something more. Maybe he'd been looking at her out of boredom, not interest. Maybe he had never thought about her at all.

Her throat tightened, and she blinked hard against the sting of tears. She hated how vulnerable she felt, how easily her emotions betrayed her. She had always prided herself on being independent, on not needing anyone's validation. But Rafe Cameron had slipped past her defenses, and now she was paying the price for letting him linger in her thoughts and feelings.

By the time she reached her small, cozy house, the weight in her chest had settled into a dull ache. She dropped her keys on the counter and sank onto the couch, her thoughts still swirling like a storm. Her parents had always supported her decision to work, even though she could have easily coasted on their wealth like so many other Kooks. She liked earning her own way, proving to herself and the world that she was more than just another privileged kid on Figure 8.

But tonight, she felt small and insignificant, like the world was reminding her that she didn't belong in Rafe Cameron's orbit. He was a hurricane, magnetic and destructive, and she was just a quiet breeze, unnoticed and easily forgotten.

And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.

—

The door to Rafe's house closed with a heavy thud, and he let out a long, exhausted sigh as he leaned against it. The evening had been a disaster, but it wasn't because of Whitney. In fact, he could hardly remember a single thing she'd said. His mind had been elsewhere all night, fixated on the one thing he couldn't stop thinking about: Y/N.

He pushed off the door and made his way to the kitchen, the silence of the house pressing in around him. His family was used to him coming and going at odd hours, and tonight he was grateful for the solitude. Pouring himself a glass of water, he leaned against the counter, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

Y/N had been different tonight, and it had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. She'd barely looked at him, her usual shy, awkward charm replaced by a cold formality that felt like a punch to the gut. He replayed the moment over and over, searching for the exact second he must have done something to upset her.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realised it wasn't just her behavior that had unsettled him—it was how much it had affected him.

He liked her. He really, truly liked her. It was a quiet, consuming sort of affection that had taken him by surprise. At first, it had been easy to dismiss—the way his chest tightened when she smiled, the way his heart raced whenever their fingers brushed. But now, after months of stolen moments and lingering glances, he couldn't deny it anymore.

He thought about the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous, the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, the way her cheeks flushed whenever he managed to fluster her. She was kind in a way that felt rare, genuine in a way that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't beyond redemption.

But tonight, all of that had felt out of reach.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Whitney had been a mistake—a distraction Topper had pushed on him that he never should have agreed to. She'd been all wrong from the start, her shallow questions and empty compliments grating on his nerves. She didn't care about him; she cared about the idea of him, the money and status he represented.

But Y/N... Y/N had never treated him like that. She didn't care about his family name or his bank account. She didn't try to impress him or play games. She was just herself, awkward and sweet and so genuine it made his chest ache.

And now, he might have ruined everything.

The thought made his stomach churn. He didn't know how to fix it, didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him the way she had tonight—like he was a stranger, someone unworthy of her time.

Rafe set the empty glass down on the counter and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't used to feeling this way, vulnerable and uncertain. But Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of making him question everything he thought he knew about himself.

He didn't deserve her, not really. But he couldn't stop himself from wanting her anyway.

As he climbed the stairs to his room, his thoughts were filled with her—her shy smiles, her quiet laughter, the way she made him feel like maybe he could be something more than the mess he'd become. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew one thing for sure: Y/N had changed him, and there was no going back.

—

Four days. Four endless, suffocating days.

Rafe Cameron had returned to the bar every single night since that dreadful evening, but each time, there was no sign of Y/N. It didn't sit right with him. The place didn't feel the same without her. She wasn't just another bartender—she was the lifeblood of the space, her sweet, slightly awkward energy drawing customers like moths to a flame.

But now, the warmth was gone. Without her behind the counter, it was just another dimly lit establishment, all noise and no soul.

By the fourth night, his restlessness was unbearable. He stepped into the bar, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. This time, she was there. Relief flooded him so quickly it was almost dizzying.

And then he saw who she was talking to.

Y/N was behind the bar, giggling softly as she leaned in closer to none other than JJ Maybank. Her hair slipped forward as she laughed, and she quickly brushed it out of her face, a move Rafe had seen her do countless times. It always left him breathless.

But this time, the sight filled him with a searing, unfamiliar rage.

What the hell was Maybank doing here? This was Kook territory, not The Cut. And worse, what was he doing talking to Y/N like that? The way JJ was leaning against the bar, all easy charm and flirtation, made Rafe's blood boil. He clenched his jaw so hard it ached as he watched JJ flash her one of his trademark smirks.

Rafe's fists tightened at his sides as he stalked over.

The second Y/N noticed him, her expression changed. The soft laughter disappeared, replaced by something guarded and uncertain. The shift stung more than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't here to dwell on it. His eyes flicked to JJ, narrowing with disdain.

"Well, if it isn't JJ Maybank," Rafe drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "Didn't think you'd ever cross the bridge willingly."

JJ turned, unfazed, and smirked. "What can I say? The service here's worth it." He shot Y/N a wink, which only made Rafe's temper flare.

"Sure it is," Rafe muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving JJ. The air between them crackled with tension, but eventually, JJ shrugged and pushed off the bar.

"I'll catch you later, Y/N," JJ said casually before heading toward the group of Pogues gathered in the corner.

Rafe watched him go, his shoulders rigid with suppressed anger. When he finally turned back to Y/N, her expression was unreadable.

"Something I can get you, Cameron?" she asked coolly, her usual warmth noticeably absent.

Rafe hesitated for a moment before leaning on the bar. "Whiskey, neat—Please."

As she poured his drink, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "What was he even doing here?"

Y/N glanced up briefly, her expression neutral. "JJ's been here before. He's not exactly banned from Kookland, you know."

Rafe scoffed but didn't press the matter further. The silence between them was suffocating, and it took everything in him to break it.

"How's it been?" he asked, his voice softer now. "I uh, haven't seen ya' around."

She gave him a quick, noncommittal shrug. "Been busy."

The coldness in her tone stung, but Rafe couldn't let it go. He needed to understand what had changed.

"Look," he began, his voice low, "I feel like maybe I upset you the other night. Was it... Was it the girl?"

Y/N froze for a split second before resuming her task, but Rafe didn't miss the way her jaw tightened.

"How was your date, by the way?" she asked, her tone deceptively light.

"It wasn't a date," Rafe said quickly, his words tumbling over each other.

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head as she turned to face him. "Rafe, come on. It very clearly was. She was practically glued to your side."

"It wasn't," he insisted, his voice firm. "Topper set it up. I didn't even want to go, and I haven't spoken to her since." He hesitated, his blue eyes meeting hers. "She's not really my type."

Something in his tone gave Y/N pause, but she was too hurt to let it show. "Right," she said flatly.

Before she could say more, Rafe's next question caught her off guard. "Are you seeing JJ?"

Her brows furrowed as she stared at him. "What?"

"Are you seeing him?" he repeated, his voice tense.

"No," she said slowly, setting her hands on the counter. "But he did ask me on a date."

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "Don't go."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms. "Why not?"

Rafe faltered, the confidence he'd managed to muster evaporating under her sharp gaze. He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

"Exactly," she said bitterly, turning away to busy herself with a drink. "That's what I thought."

"Wait," Rafe said suddenly, his voice rough with desperation. "It's not— I..." He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bar. "I like you, okay?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw.

Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Slowly, she turned to face him, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Rafe looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "I've been nervous to tell you because... because you're too good for me. You're sweet and kind, and I'm—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I'm not. I've got a lot of darkness, Y/N. I don't want to drag you into it or hurt you."

His voice cracked slightly, and he finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with vulnerability. "I don't want to break you."

For a moment, Y/N didn't say anything, the weight of his confession sinking in. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "You're not going to break me, Rafe."

His brows furrowed as he searched her face for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was quiet resolve.

"I can see the heart in you," she continued, her gaze steady. "You're different when you're around me, and I know it's real. You don't have to be scared of that."

Rafe's shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing over him like a wave.

"And for the record," she added with a small smile, "I'm not interested in JJ. He's been trying to win me over for a while now, but... it was never going to happen."

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Good," he muttered, his voice low.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. "Do you have something to ask me, Rafe Cameron?" she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Will you go out with me?"

Y/N's smile widened as she nodded. "Yeah. I will."

The tension between them melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt both new and inevitable. For the first time in days, Rafe felt like he could breathe again, and Y/N couldn't stop the warmth blooming in her chest.

As the bar buzzed around them, they stood in their own little world, the first fragile threads of something real beginning to weave between them.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i hope you enjoyed this anon !! i had sm fun writing this and thought it was a super sweet plot/concept so thank you for trusting me with it <3

still working my way through requests whilst also working on my little drew starkey mini series (sports car) so please be patient w me my loves :) but also still request any ideas you have ofc !!

#drew starkey #bettys asks !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#rafe cameron #outer banks #bettys work !! ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚#fluff #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x yn #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe outer banks

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sunsburns · 3 months ago

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clark kent, who just loves to stare at you (18+)

he just thinks you’re so pretty. a view worth risking everything for.

and you think he’s pretty too—especially like this. his lashes flutter, eyes lidded but never closing, even as they well up, clouded with heat and desperation. his brows knit together, a deep crease forming between them, like he’s struggling to make sense of the pleasure, to keep himself tethered when all he really wants is to fall apart for you. his lips part on soft, shuddering moans, the kind he doesn’t bother holding back, doesn’t want to—he wants you to hear him, to know exactly what you’re doing to him.

his fingers thread into your hair, holding you there, tugging just a little whenever you take him deeper. you can feel the tension in his grip, the barely-there restraint as he fights the urge to pull you down, to chase the wet heat of your mouth. and then—

he whimpers.

a grown man, six-foot-whatever, broad and powerful in every sense of the word, whimpers at the sight of you gagging around his cock. and fuck, it makes something in you tighten, makes heat pool low in your stomach. you let him slip from your mouth, just enough to catch your breath, and watch how his eyes go wide, unfocused, his chest rising and falling like he’s forgetting how to breathe. you press a kiss to the flushed, sensitive tip, slow and deliberate, and he shudders—actually shudders—his grip tightening in your hair.

your lips trail down, tracing every thick vein along his length, your tongue flicking out to taste him before you work your way back up. never breaking eye contact. never letting him look away.

shit, you’re so pretty like this. he doesn’t want to look away.

and you don’t want him to, either. but you do love those fleeting moments when the pleasure overtakes him—when his head tips back suddenly, baring the length of his neck and throat, every muscle tensing under his flushed skin. you see the mess of bruises you’d left there, dark and blooming against his fair complexion. his jaw clenches, stomach going tight as his hips jerk forward, uncontrolled, needy.

yeah, you love to see him like that. that split-second loss of control before he drags his head back down again, like he physically can’t stand not looking at you.

there’s a tear slipping down his cheek now, his glasses fogged and slipping down his nose. his bottom lip trembles, wet and kiss-swollen, and then he’s muttering your name, voice thick with devotion and wrecked with pleasure. soft, sweet nothings spill from his mouth, each one punctuated by a moan, a whimper, a stuttered plea—

and then, breathless, ruined, he warns you he’s close.

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kisakunt · 3 months ago

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HAVE YOU TRIED THIS ONE?

their favorite position!

S. GOJO

yab yum.

Sue him. Gojo is a loud man, and a freaky one too, but God forbid he enjoy a little bit of intimacy. It’s a bit awkward when you first try it; his legs are so long that even criss-cross, there’s a little too much room in between each thigh, once you have yours around his waist and your arms around his neck it’s awkward trying to even get it in, and the rocking is a rough start. But when you perfect it? Gojo is through the fucking roof. Satoru’s eyes hurt like hell, but he loves eye contact during sex and there’s no better time for it than in yab yum. He lets himself go; the closeness between you two, the way he can feel every inch of you, the fact for once he’s not in control. He’s vulnerable, he’s connected, and it feels so fucking good. When he cums, his legs tense a little bit more, making it easier for you to keep up with your pace. He falls apart under you, grabbing your face weakly as his head falls back. Literally perfect position for him.

T. FUSHIGURO

full nelson.

The motherfucker. Toji is strong. He’s a big guy, it doesn’t matter how tall you are or how much you weigh, he can support it. Part of the appeal is how defenseless you are, how much he gets to show off, the fact you’re like prey to him basically. It never goes too particularly deep, so if he’s itching to bruise you, he’ll let go of your legs and have you put your feet on the bed while you lie on him so he can fucking hammer you. But, in the real full nelson, he keeps it up for as long as he can. He knows just how to hit your g-spot with it, he curves to where you clench on him just right in that cute little way you do, he’s mean in the shortness of each stroke. He loves feeling your body go limp on him, he loves watching your head struggle to fall with his arms behind your neck, he loves feeling your ass move perfect against him. He’s got good stamina, too. If you begged and pleaded, Toji could cum quick— but he never would. He likes to torture you with his dick. He likes to make it hurt, make you weak, make it to where you can’t walk for days after, and the full nelson gets you sore fast.

C. KAMO

the hook.

Another intimacy lover. Choso worships you. He loves everything about making love to you. He loves your noises, the way your body folds on itself when he contorts you, how wet you get for him. The hook is perfect. It’s deep and, above all else, he thinks it’s the position you feel most good in. Whenever he can, Choso has each of your legs up on top of each of his shoulders, angled up perfect with you. He likes looking down at you, seeing your face all scrunched up and beautiful. He likes the way you beg for him. He likes how simultaneously close yet far he is from you. And when it gets all too much, he throws his head back and you get to look up at him and watch him fall apart above you. Your moans intertwine, he strokes perfect, and when he’s about to cum, he’ll break position and lower your legs just to wrap his arms around you and pull you incredibly closer.

R. SUKUNA

hands behind the ankles.

The fucking freak. No, seriously, the fucking freak. It doesn’t take him long to suggest— demand— the position to you. Obviously, Sukuna likes control. There’s never been a moment he hasn’t liked control and there’s never been a moment he’s had to worry about not having it. So that’s hardly been any different in your sex life. But when he first pulled out a pair of police grade handcuffs, you laughed— albeit a little anxiously. It’s a fucking workout for you, honestly, to hold yourself up with your legs in the air and your hands cuffed behind them. Sukuna lives for how you’re even more at his expense than you already were. He fits snug in the place between your legs, balls slapping against your lower ass every time he thrusts, pelvic bone meshing with your plush. You’re weak like this, defenseless, a perfect little toy for Sukuna to fuck, and he’d be damned if he weren’t obsessed with it.

#like tmi but the hook will do it like no other #had to give it to choso #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #gojo satoru x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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churipu · 1 year ago

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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.

note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".

but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.

that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"

so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.

your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.

whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.

the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"

"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."

the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).

and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.

it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).

it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.

he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.

when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.

"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"

the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.

and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.

to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.

when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.

he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.

"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.

of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.

"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."

you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.

"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄

believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.

and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.

actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.

inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.

you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.

ditch them.

"thank you for being here, toge."

inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"

a little translation: "i'm hungry."

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acphengene · 2 months ago

Text

String of fate

₊ ⁺ pairing: Niki x reader

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, brotherly love

₊ ⁺ note: it’s fucking finally here. i like them, they’re cute. also can you tell i’m Jayki biased?

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

Niki was a dancer first, and a person second. Anyone who knew him, knew that. He moved like water and learned choreo faster than any other dancer under Hybe.

But he was also a brother, a good friend, and most importantly a hopeless romantic.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he was. The little red string that was wrapped on his left pinky, was the one thing that would one day give him his fairytale ending.

He had been so excited about it since he woke up with it on his thirteenth birthday. He just never really talked that much about it.

The thread was tight and always stretched towards the horizon, a clear indication that you were nowhere near him. But he had always wondered just how he would find you.

Everything became a little easier when he debuted. Being in Enhypen meant a lot of travels and tours, and different ways for him to figure out just where you were.

Niki made sure that the string was nearly tucked away in his pocket whenever it started to get loose, a little scared that it might end up being flossed or even break if it came into contact with the floor too much.

Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but still he liked to know he kept it safe, just in case. Taking care of that bond that connected the two of you, couldn’t be the worst thing.

To his older brothers Niki had a very casual outlook on the soulmate bonds, an attitude that said: “it happens when it happens”. But when he was the last one standing without a soulmate by his side, he became a little more desperate than he had previously been.

“Can’t we just take a trip, you know to somewhere we haven’t been before?” He asked Jay that we’re currently testing out a new guitar.

His hyung smiled at him. “What happens to my cool and collected baby bro?”

Niki sighed. “He died” and sent the older one a teasing smile.

“You’re the one who has always said that it happens when it happens. And look at all of us, you weren’t wrong. It’s your turn to be patient now.”

He avoided Jay’s eye contact, as he kept playing the same note on a keyboard that stood in the room before him.

“Easy for you to say with G on your arm every day” Niki answered as he rolled his eyes.

Jay just chucked. “Come, let’s go make some curry and distract that mind of yours”

He followed along, but not before giving the thread a pull, a little reminder that he was thinking of you.

You loved the little red string, and red had quickly become your favorite color. What you didn’t understand was your soulmate's inability to stand still.

Almost every hour of every day, he was jumping around like a flea. The string was constantly bouncing or moving from side to side, often in the same movements over and over again.

It had left you wondering just what he was up to each and every day. You knew your own moved around a lot too, dancing would do that. But did he even notice how much he moved himself?

Of course ballet was much slower movements and much more elegant than whatever he was doing.

But you guessed whatever he was up to made him happy, he had after all been doing it since the very first day, and happiness was important.

Every now and then you would feel a tug on the string, and you knew he was thinking of you. It always warms your heart.

Another day, another tour stop. Niki was excited, the string had never been as loose as when he excited the airplane.

If it hadn't been for Sunghoons birthday gift last year he would have his arms filled with the red string at that moment. Hell he might even end up tripping over it.

His soulmate-less brother had always been the best at giving both advice and gifts that were soulmate related, and that year Niki had gotten a little compas looking thing that when attached to the string, railed it into it's compartment and kept it safe. It was one of the most precious gifts he had ever gotten.

“You think she’s here?” He asked his older brothers with hope in his eyes. Some shrugged, others nodded, but Heeseung just pulled him down to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find out shall we?”

It was still early in the morning, and he was just lounging around until it made sense for them to do their first sound check and overall runthrough of the choreo.

And as the clock struck ten, the string started to move. A tiny bit to the left, then to the right. You were so close now that he for the first time could see how you were moving through the city. Unlike the very subtle movements of your hand movements he had gotten used to, this looked different, it even felt different.

It distracted him. He forgot everything from lyrics to moves as the hours progressed, earning him a lot of teasing comments from his members.

At some point he buried his head in his hands and groaned. “I don’t know if I can do this guys” he said with an apologetic look.

Sunoo laughed. “You obviously can’t, but I’m surprised you have lasted this long”

Niki smiled. “Yeah, me too”

“Just go,” Jungwon said with a smile. “Find her and bring her to the hotel for dinner”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, before he all but ran off stage. He didn’t make it far before he heard someone call after him.

“I’m not letting you roam a new city all by yourself” Jay said with a smile before grabbing Nikis shoulders and giving them a loving rub.

The two of them got one of their managers to drive them until the string led them through small passages in the city. Then they took the rest of the journey on foot.

The city in and of itself was beautiful, with old cathedrals, brick sidewalks and cozy cafes on almost every corner, and a quick coffee run later the two had returned to their adventure.

Niki was quiet, more than he usually was, but who could blame him? His palms were sweaty and his eyes never left that red string that twisted around corners. He wondered if you had walked the same streets at some point.

Jay looked at his youngest brother with admiration, as he tried to let him just be, to live this moment.

The string took them to an open plaza in the middle of the city, and before them laid one of the few buildings in the world that were still home to a royal ballet. And the string went straight through its doors.

“Shit…” Jay said under his breath.

“Fuck” Niki ecchoed.

Getting to the building was one thing, the easiest step on their path it seemed. But getting in there, behind the scenes? That would be as close to impossible.

On any given day you would’ve paid more attention to your end of the string. But today wasn’t any normal day, no you were on the night of your career. Prima ballerina for this years ‘Swan Lake’ was your new title.

Everything had led up to this, this was what you had worked for your entire life, what you had ruined your muscles and feet for, and nothing, not even the new movements of your string, could take your eyes off that price.

The day was a constant stress of rehearsals, fittings, ice baths and fittings. Your heart was beating so hard that you could feel the pulse in your entire body.

When you finally sat down in the hair and make up you gave the string a little pull. It was as tight as it had always been, and you couldn’t help that little ping of hurt that he, whoever he was, wasn’t there to see this moment and to be your loudest cheerleader in the crowd.

Niki felt defeated, normally the little tug would make it all better, but how could he get into a show that had been sold out for months?

Jay had managed to score tickets to every performance that night except one, and as absolutely amazing as the two performances had been that night, you hadn’t been there.

“I’m so sorry” Jay said with an apologetic smile as he watched Niki once again moved his last piece of ravioli around on his plate as he was lost in thought.

He only shrugged. “It is what it is” he gave him a halfhearted smile. “At least these performances have given me a few ideas for some new choreography?” It sounded more like a question than anything else.

“Yeah, that is kind of a silver lining”

He lowered his head and kept it down, and all Jay could do was sit idly by as he watched his youngest break down in front of him.

It was a rare sight to see Niki cry, he put on a hard facade, something he had done these last few years, a trauma response they had all figured.

He moved to the booth and pulled him into a tight hug. “I know,” he whispered. And that little reassurance opened the floodgates.

Niki was grateful they were hidden away from all eyes in the back of the restaurant. That no one was near to witness this, the fact that Jay saw him like this was embarrassing enough.

He pulled away with an apology as he dried his eyes.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for having feelings that are so big you need to express them. I will forever be a safe place for you to do that”

Niki saw how sincere he was and he only nodded as yet another tear escaped his left eye.

A commotion in the restaurant was the next thing the pair heard, and suddenly their manager came rushing towards them.

“I got them!” He screamed. “I got them but we need to go now! It starts in 5 minutes!”

Fuck. This was it. And he had never in his entire life, moved faster than he did just then.

He moved up the stairs with a fast pace, rushing towards the top floor where his seat was located. He didn’t wait to figure out if the others could keep up, that didn’t matter. You were the only thing on his mind.

This had to be it, you had to be a part of this production, there was no other way. He had prepared himself to stand outside in the snow all night if that was what it took. But this did seem like a better alternative.

He wondered what your role was, were you someone behind the scenes, or were you like him, a performer?

The balcony had a perfect view of the entire stage, and when the string led straight behind the curtain, he knew this was it.

His legs were bouncing, he was fidgeting with every ring on his fingers. He didn’t care that his baggy jeans or his hoodie made him stand out like a sore thumb between the fancy gowns and suits.

Jay laid a hand on his thigh. “Breathe” and he tried, but it was as if all of the oxygen had left the room.

“She’s here hyung, she’s right here. I just know she is”

“And so are we”

Their eyes met. “Is this really happening?” He asked.

Jay smiled. “Yeah, it really is”

“You’re sure this isn’t a dream?” He asked as he once again looked to the red curtains.

Jay laughed. “Dreams are my mark, not yours. So yeah I’m pretty sure”

The smile that painted his lips were from pure happiness, and he looked like a tiny sun, radiating in this somewhat dark room.

And just then the lights flickered three times, an indication that the show was about to begin.

All Niki could do now was hope that he wouldn’t pass out.

As the curtains rose a calmness came over you, the world around you disappeared, and your feet started to move on their own accord as they always had.

You were home now, and you wondered if you would ever be more happy than you were in that exact moment.

He saw you, and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was no one in this world that could tear his eyes from you.

He knew in his heart he looked like a star struck idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Your elegance was unmatched and the way you moved proved to him that the universe had done him a favor. You were the other half of his soul, one he had lost before he even came into this world, the one thing he had searched for his entire life, the one person he would search for in every life after this one.

A dancer, of course you were, he thought. Who else would be able to understand his love for being on stage, other than one who shared that passion?

He knew it was opening night for this year's season which meant that he experienced this moment with you in real time. He was so proud despite not even knowing your name yet.

Before he knew it the curtains once again closed and the show was officially over. The cast stepped out when they opened once again and your smile was so big as you looked at your partner it literally took his breath away, it was as if he froze in time.

As you bowed he once again gained consciousness and he clapped and cheered louder than anyone there. He reached out and pulled on that string as hard as he could.

He watched as you took a small stumble, he watched as you reached out to grab it, and as you followed it, it let your eyes straight to him.

God he was beautiful, dressed in black and grey, messy hair and tear stained cheeks, but he didn’t seem to mind. The two of you watched each other for a second, and then you both watched as the string that connected you, transformed from crimson red to the most dazzeling gold.

He was still clapping when your tears started rolling down your cheeks and you once again took a bow, deeper this time, more grateful.

Niki had sent Jay back to the hotel after he had been approached by one of the security guard of the theater. Telling him that you would be out as soon as possible.

He had decided to go outside to hopefully calm his blazing hot cheek.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that he had actually found you. That he had listened to himself and it had been worth it.

The snow had started again and the darkness that surrounded it was only lit up by the old streetlights. He stood there, looking over the plaza as he wondered just what he wanted to say to you.

He didn’t have Jake’s mark, but he wanted it to be something meaningful, something you could be proud of.

Behind him he heard a door close and he turned in one smooth movement, as if quick turns on his heels were second nature to him. Who was he? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood on the top of the stairs looking down on him. Looking at that gold string, so you hadn’t imagined it.

Niki took a step forward and almost instinctively reached out for you.

He was calm, and you most definitely weren’t. You made a small jump and let out a small scream before you rushed down the steps to him.

He laughed, loudly, and the sound bounced around on the buildings, echoing it back to the two of you as if it was your own little song.

As you were almost by the foot of the stairs he opened his arms to you, and you leaped the last few steps. Throwing yourself into his arms.

He caught you, as he always would, and held you tight. Spinning you around as you both laughed.

He smelled amazing, felt amazing. He was tall, messy haired and you could feel his heart beating beneath that big puffer coat.

“I found you” he said as he finally pulled his face from the crook of your neck.

The two of you looked at each others with smiles so big that they hurt your cheeks more than the cold.

“You certainly did, and perfect timing I might say” You answered as he returned you to the ground. He kept his arms around your waist though. You didn’t mind.

“I barely made it, who would’ve thought I’d end up having such a talented soulmate that sell out her first show months in advance?”

You felt the blush paint your cheek as you looked away from him. “Don’t be embarrassed, you should be proud. It’s such an amazing achievement”

He couldn’t help himself as he brought his hand to your cheek and forced your eyes back to his.

“What about you, what is it that you do since you’re suddenly here?” You slithered out of his grip and instead interlinked your pinky with his.

He smiled at the gesture, and he quickly knew this would be how he held your hand for as long as you allowed it. Together you walked down the street enjoying the cold and finally each other.

Niki chuckled. “Eh… I’m in a similar industry” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t expect that he would be this nervous actually talking to you, opening up. But he was scared all of the sudden, scared that anything he could say would want you to leave him behind.

You raised a brow at him, but didn’t push the subject, you were observing, letting him take his time.

“Do you know kpop?” he asked as he kicked some of the snow that lay on the road.

“I do”

“Well, I’m an idol… And are kind of here for a tour” he stopped in his tracks and watched you smile up at him.

“So a singer and a dancer then? You’re making me look bad”

He chuckled, as he felt the weight fall from his shoulders. "I don't think that is possible"

"What kind of dance?" You asked, and he couldn't help himself so he spun you around.

Niki watched as your body reacted by pure instinct, how you stepped up on your toes, even in your sneakers, how your leg lifted off the ground.

"Well definitely not ballet"

The two of you laughed together.

"Want to dance with me?" He asked as you stopped beneath one of the lights.

"I will dance with you for as long as you'll have me" You said as he pulled you closer with a smirk.

"I promise you one thing red, I am never letting you go. You have a dance partner for life with me"

So you danced there in the somewhat silence of the city as the snow fell around you. Two dancers, one soul, brought together by nothing more than a red string of fate

₊ ⁺ taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @spicxbnny @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @acopenhagenarmy @tunafishyfishylike

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amberlynnmurdock · 2 months ago

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Dressing Room

Pairing: Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter x Reader Insert

Summary: Dex takes guarding your dressing room at Lululemon a little too seriously.

Genre: FLUFF and a little angst

Note: I'm sorry if this isn't my strongest! I felt like writing a cute little something for Dexy since he's BACK!!!! <3 <3 my DDBA thoughts will have to be another post. ENJOY!

Dex guards the door with his arms crossed in front of him, suspiciously eyeing every person who walks by. It’s reminiscent of the missions he’s been placed on in the past—guarding the door for witness protection, guarding the door of a criminal. It's the same concept, really. Make sure no one gets to whoever is behind the door he guards. Deathly stare at anyone who even glances in his direction.

A bead of sweat trickles down his back from the heat in the room. Every muscle in his body tenses at every sound he hears. Boots scuffing the wood-paneled floor, paper ripping—all send his heart rate skyrocketing and his eyes scanning the room obsessively for any kind of threat. It was important to him that he be aware of anything and everything. It was important to him that people know he sees them.

An older woman approaches him. Before she can say anything, Dex holds out his hand to stop her.

“This dressing room is occupied,” he says in his FBI agent authoritative voice. His eyes darken at her audacity. The woman cowers at his stern, unfriendly look and quickly walks away with shirts draped over her arm—as she should, Dex thinks.

“Sir,” a male voice comes from his side. “I’m the manager. You don’t work here. I’m going to have to ask you to not scare our customers in the dressing room if you’re not trying anything on. There’s no reason for you to be standing here.”

No reason? Dex looks at the man but hides his incredulous look. Dex has every reason to be standing in front of the dressing room you’re in—he has to make sure you’re safe.

“I’m waiting for my girlfriend,” Dex states without a flinch, tightening his arms in front of his chest.

“You can wait for her on the couches in the middle of the room,” the manager explained calmly. “You don’t need to guard the door.”

Frustration bloomed in Dex’s chest. What was so hard to understand? “Yes, I do. I need to make sure she’s safe.”

“Sir, this is a Lululemon.”

“Dex?” You open the door ajar to peek at Dex, standing in his FBI-esque stature, arms crossed and deathly glaring at anyone and everyone. Now, the manager fell victim to such a harsh glare. When Dex heard your voice, it was the only moment his expression softened. He looked at you attentively, as if the manager wasn’t there. “Could you tell me if you like this jacket?”

Dex looked from you to the manager beside him, watching him suspiciously. When no one said a word, you sighed in exasperation and looked at the manager.

“Can my boyfriend please help me in the dressing room? He’ll be out once I get his opinion.”

“Sure,” the manager said. “But please also tell him to stop scaring our guests away.”

“I will,” you flashed a smile at him as he walked away. You uncrossed Dex’s arms and grabbed his hand, leading him into the dressing room. You shut the door, and Dex beat you to locking it.

“Dex,” you said softly. “Why are you scaring people away?” You asked with an amused smile on your face. You were used to him being protective—you found it very endearing that he acted somewhat like your personal bodyguard, even if you were at a casual establishment like Lululemon. Dex’s face softened as he sighed.

“I just want to make sure no one will walk in on you,” Dex said. “I’m sorry if I was aggressive.”

“No, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving his upper bicep a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate how protective you are over me.”

Dex shrugged. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe,” you affirmed. “Whenever I’m with you.”

Dex smiled and held your gaze for a moment. You shrugged and tugged at the seams of the jacket you tried on.

“Well, what do ya think?” You asked him, breaking eye contact to look at yourself in the mirror. Dex was still looking at you, but as if snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at your torso and analyzed the jacket.

“It looks perfect on you,” Dex said, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Thank you, Dex. Do you like the black? Maybe I should try on the blue. Could you get me the light blue one out there? It’s called the Define jacket.”

Although he was captivated by how you looked, he still registered your command. “I’ll find it.”

He left you in the dressing room as he made his way back out to the main floor. The manager who scolded him before stared him down, but Dex wasn’t intimidated—he’s had much worse foes. He ignored his glare as he made his way to the table that read: Define Jacket. He found a light blue one in your size.

Dex walked back to the dressing room area and stopped in his tracks when he saw your dressing room empty, door wide open. His alertness set in as his heart rate skyrocketed again, and this time, he was reminded of every person in his life who’d abandoned him without warning. His parents, his therapist… and now, you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone again. A deep heaviness settled in his chest, a deep sense of longing he hadn’t felt in a while overcame him at the missing sight of you. Where did you go? Dex could barely hold onto the jacket he grabbed for you.

Were you taken? He knew this would happen—he shouldn’t have left you alone. You, your kindness, he knew could be taken advantage of so easily. He didn’t care that this was just an establishment—nowhere is guaranteed safe. That’s what they taught him in training. Suddenly, he felt an intense resentment towards the manager who berated him for standing in front of your door. This is why he “scaring” guests—this is why he was protecting you.

No, Dex thought. It’s nobody’s fault but his. It’s his fault you slipped from his grasp—it was always his fault. The minute he found the person who took you from—Dex was already planning the ways he’d make them pay. He’s counting each hanger that hangs inside the empty dressing room—it’s how many times he’ll throw it at whoever took you from him. There wasn’t any sadness at your disappearance anymore—he felt rage. Fixated on the hangers and how easily they would slip from his fingers.

“Dex,” he heard you call his name, and just like that—as quick as a switch—all his anxieties disappeared. Something fluttered in his chest. There you were, standing in front of a large mirror, trying on a light blue tennis dress. Your hair was disheveled from throwing the dress on, but you looked beautiful in Dex’s eyes. Angelic, even—just looking at you brought a feeling in Dex he’s not used to. At first, it was scary, but then it was just…silent. Peaceful. Only you were capable of making him even taste that feeling. “Come here,” you said.

Dex does as he’s told but doesn’t just stop to look at you and give his opinion—you could wear anything and he would think it’s the loveliest thing. Dex wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight against him—his fears from before coming to the front of his mind. He thought he lost you. He can’t experience that feeling again.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He feels you tentatively wrap your arms around him, embracing his hold.

“I’m sorry,” Dex said, “I thought you were gone.”

“Gone?” You giggled against him. “Where would I have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Dex mumbled in your hair.

“I’m right here.” You pulled back from his embrace to brush your fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

Dex suddenly couldn’t meet your eyes—ashamed of his paranoia and for thinking the worst. “I got your jacket in blue,” Dex muttered, holding up the soft article of clothing on his arm.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you like this dress on me? Your opinion matters to me, you know.”

His opinion matters to you. He matters. Dex looks at you again, and then he takes a step back, fully realizing the image in front of him. You looking at him like he’s the most important thing in the world, and he looking at you like you’re the most beautiful—because you are, to him.

“It’s perfect,” Dex says quietly. It’s all he can say. The adrenaline of his paranoia from before exhausted him. You knew him well enough to know he was fighting an internal battle. And he was trying his best to hide it from you.

“Take a seat, Dex. I’m all finished up here. Let me change back into my clothes, pay and then we’ll go home,” you said softly. You pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and guided him to sit on the couches in the middle of the dressing room.

Dex sat down at your command. In front of him was the mirror—he met his own eyes and quickly looked away. When you closed the door to your dressing room, Dex quietly got up to instead sit in front of your door, on the couch that faced it. He waited for you patiently there—just in case.

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murdock-slvt · 20 days ago

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❝ BOY NEXT DOOR! rafe who can’t stop stealing neighbor! reader’s panties… ❞ ▄▀▄▀▄

boy next door! rafe always knew he was a little messed up.

it was an odd sense of self awareness that made you question how he could live with himself.

he understands that staring at you through the blinds is bad. he understands breaking into your house whenever you aren’t home to look around is a federal crime. he understands trying to touch you at every opportunity— be it, touching your lower back when he talks to you when you grab the mail or putting his hands on your hips when he’s teaching you golf is a lot more than just “helping a friend” out…

rafe understands what he does is bad and borders on creepy… but he simply couldn’t care.

he doesn’t care that you tell him to stop looking at you like you were his next fuck, he couldn’t care that he’s seen you catching him peering at you through his blinds, he couldn’t care if he wasn’t slick at all with his words and his flirtatious comments… he simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

the moment you left in your car to hang out with your friends, rafe took the opportunity to do whatever he wanted.

the house is vacant the moment he goes in it, sneaking in the house using a paper clip to pick the lock of the backdoor and shutting it behind him.

he looked around the house, it was clean but not too clean. it had a sense of you, your family, the love you shared within the family. portraits hung up on the hallway walls and up the stairs of your family, you and your sibling when you guys were much younger, family trips, other family members.

rafe smiled to himself looking throughout the house, but truly, he was there for one thing and one thing only.

he climbed the banister, each step on the staircase echoing throughout the house as he took his time, knowing you won’t be home for a while. he walked on the upstairs floor of your house; one bathroom, a laundry room, and a bedroom… your bedroom.

he could feel his pants tighten the moment he stepped into your room. it felt like you. it smelt like you. it was the visual embodiment of what you were and how you acted and what you liked.

the wires in his brain linked together and he began walking over to the drawer that held your socks, underwear, panties, bra’s, and clothes that were out of season but you wanted to re-wear.

he opened one drawer; socks, he frowned before closing it.

he opened another drawer; underwear, he smiled but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

he opened another one; your panties. what he wanted.

“there’s my girls…” his voice whispers, as if you were in the house.

his hands kept open as he stared at the collection of your panties. some were lacy, others were solid with bows on them, some were silky and shiny. they were all different colors, and it was clear some were already taken out and worn. his fingers reached in, letting out a quiet moan as his fingers came in contact with a pair of black lacy panties.

he pulled them out, looking at them. they were clean and so delicious. he slipped the pair into his pocket before digging back in, grabbing two more pairs; another lacy pair then a silky pair.

he rearranged them, to make sure you had no idea that some of them were stolen; but he knew you’d know if he stole some, you weren’t dumb, he loved that about you.

closing the drawer, he looks around. your bed isn’t put together but it’s not dirty, there’s only a few imperfections. he walked over to your hamper, filled with worn clothes that you’d take out at the end of the week.

his hand reached in, grabbing the pair of panties that sat sandwiched between one of your bra’s and shirts.

he brought them close to his face, holding them in his right hand as his left hand slowly moved down his chest, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his half-hard cock out… just the sight of your panties made him hard.

his eyes examined the pair, he noticed something about them: they were dirty, like they were used— and ripped, someone ripped them off you. someone else had a chance with you.

rafe hated the idea of someone else having you.

his eyebrows furrowed as his hand begins to stroke himself, already setting a fast pace as his balls clenched. he was already wound up by the sight of your panties, and now he’s found a pair of used panties.

“look at you.” he grunted to himself, squeezing his cock with his hand as he brought himself closer to the edge, bringing the panties to his nose and getting a good whif of them: smelled like you… but it had a hint of cologne to them too. “slutting yourself out to another man.” he growled, biting onto the waistband of the panties.

he leaned his head back, thinking about you. he thought about your hips, the way your breasts sat on the bra you wore whenever you mowed the lawn, the way your sunglasses perched on your nose and he could see your gorgeous eyes, the way your hair bounced… you were fucking perfect.

“god baby— don’t know what you do to me…”

he brought the panties down to his cock, putting the center of the panties against his tip as he looked down, tapping his foot as he brings himself over the edge.

his seed spills into your panties, the white decorating the black lacy material, some of his seed seeping through the material and landing on the carpet floor. heavily breathing, he caught his breath as his cock went flaccid. he moved the soaked panties off his tip, a line of sperm still connecting them together but he puts the panties back in your hamper and puts himself back in his pants.

backing up with three pair of your panties in his pocket, he closes your door and steps down the banister, walking out the house and going back to the cameron house just across the lawn.

when you came back home a few hours later, you could smell his cologne. you looked around, trying to find the cause of the scent, and it wasn’t until you found the sticky aftermath of your panties that you knew who did it and what exactly rafe did.

and yet, you couldn’t seem to mind… because rafe doesn’t care if you know what he does…

@murdock-slvt 2025!

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outerbanks smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #fan fiction #outerbanks fic #pantie stealer! rafe #boy next door! rafe #murdock-slvt

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caxasy · 18 days ago

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caleb is a pretty crier. the way the tears make his purple hued eyes glisten even brighter, or darker. the way it changes depending on why he’s crying is something you’ve noticed. if he’s crying from pleasure or happiness, his eyes seem to shine brighter, the tears enhancing his colored eyes.

if he’s crying from anger, desperation, or sadness, they grow dim and turn almost black with how dark they become.

either way, he was always pretty with the tears streaming down his face. they’d be so visible to you; going down his cheeks, tracing his jaw, falling down his adam’s apple before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

unfortunately, whenever he’d be in front of you with tears down his face, your first initial thought would be how pretty he was. then, of course, you’d tend to him with nothing but care and love. cooing at whatever was wrong that made him break down in tears.

however, on the not so rare occasion he didn’t need comforting, but rather a voice of reason calming him down, that’s when caleb was truly at his most beautiful, in your opinion. when he’d be so angry, so jealous, so possessive that tears are streaming down his face. not for himself, but from how hard he’s restraining himself to not go to whoever was spiking up his envy and “taking care” of them.

“do you see what these people do to me?” it’s a rhetorical question, of course all you can do is lend him an ear to hear his tantrum, “i don’t want anyone else near you, but me. you don’t need anyone else, but me,” the angry tears make his eyes darker. “you don’t need them. tell me you don’t, tell me you don’t need them,” he repeats it a couple more times, words practically slurring together as he presses his forehead against yours, eye contact still being maintained.

“i don’t need them,” he whimpers at your confirmation, eyelids fluttering shut and allowing the tears that were gathering on his waterline to be released. they drip onto your skin, but you let them soak in, not daring to wipe them away.

you lean up ever so slightly, kissing his tears and tasting the saltiness of them with a small smile on your face, “don’t need anyone but you, caleb,”

“say it again,” he groans, arms lifting to be on either side of your head as he cages you in. you breathe in his cologne as you move so your whispering right into his ear everything he needs to hear. your hand goes up from his stomach, pressing ever so lightly to make his breathing ragged, to his chest, to his neck, before finally resting on his jaw.

“i’m yours,” you hear him whimper as you lightly squeeze his face, “and you’re mine,”

“that’s right,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “you don’t belong with anyone else, but me. you promise me it’s going to stay like this forever?” he’s speaking through gritted teeth, sounding almost angry. but you know him better. know that he’s speaking from a place of desperation, not anger.

“i promise, caleb,” you coo, affectionately rubbing your thumb up and down his cheek. he reacts well to your touch, nuzzling into your palm and even kissing your skin so softly you’d think you were made of porcelain.

“i’ll be whoever you want me to be, i’ll do whatever you want me to do — just don’t leave me.” his words are ragged, new tears springing to his eyes again. he grabs your wrist, fingers trailing upward and holding your hand in his as he presses you further into the wall.

his hips are against yours the moment your pressed to the hard surface, keeping you there and unable to escape. not that you wanted to, you quite liked being in this position. caleb trapping you, making it physically impossible to leave him.

as his head ducked down into your neck, wetting it with his tears and kisses, you could only smirk in satisfaction. having caleb so vulnerable, so emotional in front of you always brought a smile to your face. he was never one for hiding his feelings, anyway. but to know you invoke such a strong reaction in him to the point he falls into tears; regardless of it being from envy or joy, it will always bring a smile onto your face.

#male reader #lads x reader #lads x male reader #love and deepspace x male reader #love and deepspace x reader #non mc reader #x male reader #caleb x male reader #caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #xia yizhou x male reader #xia yizhou male reader #xia yizhou reader #xia yizhou love and deepspace #xia yizhou x reader #lads male reader

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fandoms-x-reader · 3 months ago

Text

Apologize

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers say something too harsh to MC so MC refuses to talk to them or interact with them. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 8,242

It wasn’t unusual for Lucifer to get snappy with others.

He was constantly overworked and over exhausted and his brothers liked to cause as much trouble for him as possible.

But, no matter how tired he was, Lucifer always did his best to keep his composure around you.

He had been working really hard on a specific project for Lord Diavolo recently and you could see how tired he was.

You made frequent trips to his study, bringing him his favorite drink and massaging his shoulders whenever you could to try to help.

But, now Lucifer was barely able to keep his eyes open anymore and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.

You carefully approached him and gently rubbed his arm, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even look up from his papers.

“Lucifer, I think you should take a break,” you told him honestly.

“I don’t have time for that Y/N,” he replied, continuing to work.

“At least for a little bit? A break would do you some good,” you tried again, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“I already told you, I don’t have time for that,” he reiterated, more annoyed this time.

But, you were really worried about him, so you didn’t want to give up so easily.

“Lucifer,” you began again and he slammed his hand down on his desk making you let out a small gasp.

“What I’m doing is important and I need to concentrate, so if you’re just going to keep pestering me then just leave because, at this point, all you are is a nuisance,” he stated coldly.

You looked at him for a moment, feeling the sting of his words but not knowing how to react. He didn’t even care enough to see that his words had hurt you.

“Fine,” you muttered before getting up and leaving his study.

Lucifer was really in the thick of it with work so he didn’t even realize the words that he had said and how they must have hurt you until later.

He was still in his study and he sat back in his chair, rolling shoulders as he let out a small groan of pain. They were sore from spending so much time in the same position. Usually, you would try and massage them to help prevent them from getting to this point.

He then looked down at his teacup and noticed that it was completely empty and had been for a while. But, you always made sure to bring him his favorite drink so that he could continue to work.

That’s when Lucifer began thinking back to the last time he saw you enter his study and what happened the last time.

He let out a deep sigh as he replayed the words he had said to you in his head. Surely, you knew that he didn’t mean them, right? He loved you and you had to know that.

He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to you but he had to keep working. It was his responsibility.

Meanwhile, you avoided Lucifer’s study at all costs. You were just trying to help Lucifer and if he couldn’t see that then you didn’t have anything else to say to him.

Lucifer only lasted one day without seeing you when he started to grow concerned. He tried sending you a couple of text messages, not wanting to leave his study, but he was met with crickets and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He had reached a point in the project where, perhaps, he could take a small break and he immediately went to your bedroom, knocking on your door.

There was no answer and while he was tempted to break it down to make sure you weren’t in there ignoring him, he kept his composure.

You had just come back from the kitchen, a drink in hand when you saw Lucifer standing in front of your bedroom door.

You stopped in your tracks as the two of you made eye contact and you took in his appearance.

He looked even more miserable than he did the last time you saw him.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just staring at each other.

After another moment, you spun on your heels, trying to retreat back to the kitchen.

Lucifer was in front of you in an instant, inches away from you and the close proximity itself was enough to start revitalizing him.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his deep voice wanting to make you swoon after not hearing it for an entire day. But, you stood your ground.

“Why shouldn’t I be? Since I’m just a nuisance to you and all,” you replied, your eyes filled with noticeable seriousness and hurt.

It took a lot to make Lucifer falter, but when you threw his words to you back at him, he nearly winced as if you slapped him.

He took a step closer to you before telling you, “You know that I don’t really think that.”

You let out a small sigh as you looked down to the ground and Lucifer realized that maybe he had really messed up this time. Maybe you really didn’t know how he truly felt about you.

He gently raised your chin with one of his gloved hands so that you were looking at him before gently pressing his lips on yours in an intimate kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes locked with you as he told you, “You could never be a nuisance to me, because I love you.”

And those were the words you were waiting to hear - the ones that always made you swoon even if you were mad at him.

“Please, come back and join me in my study,” he asked, his hand dropping down to interlace his fingers with yours.

Under his intense gaze, you couldn’t help but feel your resolve cracking as you allowed him to lead you to his study.

Once there, you told Lucifer, “You still have some making up to do.” Lucifer smirked slightly at your words before sitting down on his chair and pulling you into his lap.

You nearly spilled your drink at his actions and his smirk only grew. “I still have some work to do, but this way, I can pay attention to you as well,” he told you, one arm wrapping around you to keep you in place while the other continued to write on the document in front of him.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Lucifer continued to speak before you could, his lips inches from your ear as he told you, “Then, when I’m done with this, you can have my full attention.”

Mammon had just completed a long photoshoot for a magazine that wanted him to be his model.

It was a lot of work, but the paycheck was worth it and he already knew what he wanted to do with it. Take you on a date!

Mammon was so excited to take you out that you couldn’t help but say yes.

He was always in a good mood whenever he came into money, no matter how that may be, but it was even better when he got to spend time with you because of it.

He had a whole plan to take you to a traveling carnival that was passing through the Devildom and the two of you left almost immediately.

The carnival was a lot bigger than you were expecting, filled with rides, food stalls, thrill acts and so much more.

You had been enjoying your time with Mammon there and it was one of the rare times that you got to see him drop his act and just be himself around you without the worry of one of his brothers being around.

He was even holding your hand the entire time, a small blush coating his cheeks as he tried to play the action off like it was no big deal.

After going on one of the more thrilling rides, the two of you decided to take a break and you sat down on a nearby bench as you watched one of the acts that was performing.

Your head rested against Mammon’s shoulder and this thumb traced circles on the back of your hand.

Suddenly, a random demon appeared sitting right next to Mammon and looking at the two of you.

You raised your head to pay attention, confused as to what he wanted and the demon leaned in closer, talking in a quiet voice. Mammon was about to tell him to get lost when the demon spoke.

“You’re Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, right?” the demon asked with hope in his eyes.

You and Mammon shared a look, questioning how this demon knew Mammon and that was all the confirmation he needed.

“I knew it!” he said with a smile before adding, “Please, sir, follow me and I’ll lead you to the undercover casino.”

Mammon’s eyes widened at his words. “Undercover casino?” Mammon asked. He didn’t know there would be one at this carnival.

“Yes, you’re one of our best patrons. If you come with me, we can treat you to the full service,” the demon replied and you could practically see Mammon’s eyes light up with gold.

“Mammon, I don’t think we should-,” you tried to say but you were cut off by him jumping up, a large smile on his face.

“Lead the way!” Mammon said and the demon lit up as he began showing the two of you the way.

“Mammon, I think this is a bad idea,” you told him and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry! We’ll only stay for a few minutes,” he replied, and you let out a small sigh. It was never a few minutes.

And you were right, just like you knew you would be. The two of you were there for at least an hour as Mammon’s train of thought was completely taken over by his greed.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want to keep playing, you’ll have to put up more money,” the dealer stated and Mammon searched his wallet for more. Empty.

“Y/N, loan me some money, will ya’?” Mammon asked and you could feel yourself start to get annoyed.

“Mammon, you already lost all of the money you earned from that job. Let’s just call it a night,” you tried to reason with him, but his lips turned into a frown.

“C’mon, don’t be such a killjoy. I’m gonna win big this time, I know it!” Mammon tried to convince you, but you were done with the casino.

“Mammon, we should go home,” you stated more firmly.

“I spent the whole night doin’ what you wanted, so the least you could do is spend some time doin’ what I want!” Mammon argued.

His words cut you, but you tried to gain control of the situation. “Mammon-,” you tried once again but he cut you off with a loud groan of frustration.

“If I wanted someone to ruin my fun then I would have taken Lucifer,” Mammon stated before muttering, “Jeez, I don’t even know why I took ya’ out in the first place.”

Your heart dropped at his words as you felt tears sting your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him see them fall. Fine.

You searched through your things to find your money and handed it to Mammon who had a large smile on his face at the sight of it. “Bet as much as you want. I’m going home,” you stated before walking away and back to the House of Lamentation.

Just as you knew, once again, Mammon lost all of the money you had given him and now he had nothing left.

He looked around the casino for you and when he couldn’t find you, he started calling you and texting you. Did you really leave?

As the money-hungry fog started to lift from his mind, Mammon was able to start thinking clearly and he realized just how badly he had messed up.

He continued to try to call you as he made his way back to the House of Lamentation, but you refused to answer his calls.

When he got to the house, he immediately went to your room and knocked on your bedroom door, but he was met with more silence.

He tried to get you to open the door the entire night but when he realized you weren’t going to, he sulked back to his room. How was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him?

Your silent treatment continued for the next few days. You wouldn’t talk to him at RAD and you would lock him out of your room before he had a chance to talk to you back at the House of Lamentation.

Mammon was growing more and more depressed about it too. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.

You had purposefully been only leaving your room at times when you thought Mammon would be out of the house or asleep.

It was too painful to see after the things he said to you when you were just trying to keep him from getting further into debt.

It was a little after midnight when you decided to go to the kitchen to get some food. You managed to make it to the fridge with no problem, but right as you grabbed the item you wanted, Mammon suddenly entered.

The two of you looked at each other in shock, neither one of you expecting the other to be there.

You wanted nothing more than to go back to your room, but he was blocking the exit.

“Uh…hi,” Mammon said, looking down at the ground. He was nervous and under any other circumstance, you would feel a little bad for him.

He didn’t say anything else, so you decided to try to push past him to get back to your room.

But as you passed him, Mammon gently grabbed your arm. “Wait,” he said, finally bringing himself to look at you and you paused to listen to what he had to say.

He was bad at speeches so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I miss ya’.”

And his puppy dog eyes and those words that sounded so sad were enough to almost make you cave. Almost.

Mammon could tell it wasn’t enough so he continued to say, “I’m sorry about what I said. You’re the only one I want to go out with and I don’t know why ya’ even agreed to go out with me,” he told you honestly and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, shattering the walls that you had put up.

You gently reached up and cupped his cheek with one of your hands and he immediately leaned into your touch.

You pulled away after a moment and began walking to your room, leaving a very confused Mammon standing there.

You turned back to face him when you realized he wasn’t following you and you motioned towards your room before asking, “Are you coming?”

He got a big smile at your words and he nodded his head, letting you lead him to your room.

As soon as you shut the door, Mammon engulfed you in his arms, pulling you onto the bed and refusing to let go.

You let yourself melt in his embrace before telling him, “No more gambling on dates.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours before replying, “Promise.”

There were a few things that Levi was uptight about and those things usually had something to do with either his anime, manga, or videogames.

Other than those things, Levi was usually pretty nonchalant. He didn’t care what others did or didn’t do and he didn’t complain if they didn’t spend time with him.

He just usually did his own thing and you admired him for that.

It didn’t take long for you and Levi to start hanging out, common interests bringing the two of you together.

And Levi soon found that he was going against all of his beliefs as a shut-in. He was starting to actually care about what others did. Well, about what one person did in particular.

Things that Levi used to love to do by himself didn’t seem as fun when you weren’t around, so he tried to invite you over as much as he possibly could.

You didn’t mind at all because Levi usually invited you to do something you liked doing anyway.

Levi never had someone that liked the same things he liked as much as you did, which is probably what added to his infatuation of spending time with you.

And it was like a secret that only the two of you shared, or a language that only the two of you knew how to speak.

Or, that’s how Levi thought of it until he caught you and Solomon talking at RAD.

You had mentioned one of your and Levi’s favorite games to Solomon and he had, surprisingly, known about it.

So the two of you started talking about all your favorite characters and mechanics of the game.

In your defense, it was a completely innocent conversation between friends, but Levi didn’t see it that way.

What he saw is the way you smiled at Solomon as he spoke, in a way that Levi only wanted you to look at him.

And what he heard was the way you sweetly laughed at Solomon’s jokes, with a laugh that was supposed to be reserved for his ears.

And then, you invited Solomon to come over to the House of Lamentation and play the game with you and Levi.

His sin had taken over him faster than he could process what was happening and he stood in between you and Solomon in his demon form, a very unhappy look on his place.

“Levi? Are you okay?” you asked him, worried when you saw the form he was in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, sending a glance to Solomon.

“We were just talking,” you replied, confused as to what he was getting at.

“You invited him to play our game!” Levi snapped back and you and Solomon shared a look as you realized why he might be upset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you replied honestly. Solomon and Levi were friends and Solomon had come over lots of time to play games with Levi, so why should this time be any different?

But your words seemed to only set Levi off more as his insecurities got the better of him.

“Well, it might not seem like a big deal to you but it’s a big deal to me,” he replied and you could hear the hurt in his voice. The conversation was spiraling and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Levi, I didn’t mean anything by that,” you tried to reason but he was too far in his head down.

“This is what I get I guess,” he stated and you looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned.

“It means I never should have tried to be friends with some lame normie who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves,” Levi snapped back and this time it was your turn to be hurt.

“Let’s all calm down,” Solomon interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation and Levi’s demon form caught the attention of Lucifer. Levi knew furthering the fight would only get him involved, so he backed down.

“Whatever,” Levi muttered before walking away and Solomon turned to you.

“Are you okay?” Solomon asked you and you replied with a short, “I’m fine.”

You went back to the House of Lamentation with the full intention of avoiding Levi and giving him the silent treatment, which was all too easy to do because he didn’t leave his room after the fight.

You were both getting more and more miserable as you spent time apart, but Levi was upset because he thought you liked Solomon and you were upset because of what he said to you so neither of you were ready to apologize.

After about a week of the two of you not speaking, it was starting to affect everyone else as well.

Solomon decided to do something about it since he was technically involved.

He came to Levi’s room, fully expecting Levi to not answer the door; but, he had.

Truth be told, Levi had only opened it in the hopes that you would be on the other side but he was largely disappointed when he saw Solomon standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asked and Solomon gave him an innocent smile.

“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” Solomon replied.

“About what?” Levi asked and Solomon’s expression turned to a serious one.

“About Y/N,” he replied and at the mention of your name, a blush rose to Levi’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Levi replied, attempting to shut the door to his room but Solomon stopped him.

“Please, just listen,” Solomon said and Levi, having no choice, let him continue.

“The only reason that Y/N and I were talking about the game was because they were telling me how much they’ve been enjoying playing it with you,” Solomon told Levi.

“So?” Levi asked and Solomon wanted to roll his eyes at the oblivious demon.

“They were telling me about how much they’ve been enjoying spending time with you,” Solomon tried to further clarify.

Something clicked in Levi’s mind this time and his cheeks burned a furious red as he understood what Solomon was trying to say.

He quickly slammed the door on Solomon’s face to process the new information on his own and then he felt like a total idiot for snapping at you.

It only took him a few more minutes to show up at your door, nervously knocking on it.

You opened it a few moments later and Levi saw his own miserableness reflected on you.

“I…I know I messed everything up a-and you’ll probably never forgive me. But, I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you wanted to play some games,” Levi said practically in one breath before he could chicken out of it.

He held your favorite game in his hands along with some snacks, hoping that you would let him in.

“Why would you want to spend time with a lame normie like me?” you asked and Levi winced at your words. He deserved that.

He let out a defeated sigh, casting his gaze down at the floor before telling you, “Because I don’t think you're lame. You’re the most amazing person I know. But, if you don’t want to play that’s fine, I’ll just leave you alone.”

His dejected look pulled at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but stop him by gently grabbing his arms.

He looked back at you with hopeful eyes and you told him, “Maybe we can play for a little bit.”

Levi immediately rushed into your room, a bright smile on his face that was contagious as he set everything up.

This was only the beginning of his apology and he was going to make sure he made up for what he said.

And maybe, just maybe, along with an apology he could also confess his feelings for you.

Out of all the demon brothers, Satan was the best at holding a grudge.

After all, he had been holding once against Lucifer for his entire life.

Satan was a classy demon but he was equally stubborn and if he didn’t want to back down from a fight, there was no making him do so.

So, when the two of you got into a fight, you knew that it was going to be one with lasting consequences.

Satan had invited you on a day trip that involved a long train ride both to and from the destination.

He didn’t want you to be bored so he offered to lend you one of his books.

Everything was going so perfectly and it was a very romantic outing filled with sweet nothings and intimate moments.

But, then the time to go back home came and that’s when it all started falling apart.

You were frantically trying to search your bag for the book that Satan had lent you while you waited for the train to arrive, but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

Satan noticed your frantic movements beside him and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you.

“What are you looking for?” he asked you as you continued to search.

“Your book,” you replied, and the content expression that was on his face moments before dropped as he felt a flicker of anger inside of him.

“The book I let you borrow?” Satan asked as you closed your bag with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Satan, I must have left it on the train when we got off it,” you told him, a contrite expression on your face. You felt awful.

“How could you be so careless?” Satan asked and you were taken aback by his words.

“I didn’t mean to,” you argued but Satan’s wrath was only growing further and once he went down this road, it was almost impossible to stop.

“That was one of my favorite books! I only let you borrow it as a gesture of kindness,” he stated.

“Satan, I told you I was sorry. I’ll buy you another copy when we get back,” you responded.

“It won’t be the same,” he snapped back, refusing to look at you now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you replied and you knew those words were a mistake because if he wasn’t angry before, that definitely set him off.

The two of you engaged in a very heated exchange as others looked on and the only thing that stopped you was the arrival of the train.

You and Satan refused to talk to each other the whole way back and you sat in anger and embarrassment for causing such a big scene.

You immediately went to your separate rooms as soon as you got back to the House of Lamentation and you were left to wonder how such a simple thing could ruin not only the way back but the entire trip when the two of you had been so happy together moments before that.

Satan could admit to himself that he may have overreacted a bit, but admitting it to you was a completely different story. And, you believed that you already apologized so what else was there to say?

Which left the two of you at an impasse. You wouldn’t speak to each other or even look at each other despite the ache you had for each other.

The others had heard about what happened and tried to get the two of you to talk. After all, they all agreed that you were fighting over something trivial, but neither you nor Satan gave in.

It wasn’t until the two of you got stuck in a situation a couple of weeks later that he realized how stupid the argument was.

Satan was reading in the library at the House of Lamentation and you walked in to grab your own book, not expecting him to be there.

As soon as you saw him, you averted your gaze, focusing on finding the book you were looking for.

Satan kept occasionally glancing at you while you searched, but he didn’t say anything.

Finally, you found the book you were looking for, but it was in a stack of books on top of one of the bookshelves.

You were struggling to reach it and could use some help. Specifically from a demon who was already there.

Satan kept his eyes on his book, a smug smile threatening to form as he knew you needed help and would have to talk to him to ask him for it.

But, you refused to give him the satisfaction, so you tried to grasp it yourself, causing them all to tumble.

You let out a gasp of pain as they fell on top of you, one of the larger ones hitting you in the head and knocking you out.

Satan was on his feet the instant he saw what happened and he quickly approached you with worry in his eyes.

You had a small cut on your forehead that was bleeding and when he saw that you were knocked out, the guilt instantly flooded him. He should’ve just helped you.

He carried you to his bedroom and treated the small cut on your forehead before sitting next to you, watching you sleep.

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for a fact that you were okay.

A little while later, you began to stir and when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with concerned, green ones.

“How are you feeling?” he asked you immediately and you slowly began to remember what happened.

“My head hurts,” you admitted and he nodded his head, handing you some pain medicine.

You took it gratefully and as it fell silent, you realized Satan had just talked to you.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him again. He must have known what you were thinking because he let out a small sigh before climbing into the bed with you and pulling you into him.

You moved your head back just a bit so that you could look at him.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and for calling you careless,” he told you as he lovingly looked into your eyes, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before leaving his fingers tangled in it.

“I’m sorry for losing your book,” you replied, savoring every moment of the touch you had craved.

“I can always get another copy,” he reassured you, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you, “You’re what I’m afraid of losing more than anything. I can’t ever get another copy of you and I wouldn’t want it.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Satan smiled at you before pulling you onto his chest so that he could hold you.

Asmo was quick and witty when he wanted to be.

His greatest fighting tactic was his words and everyone knew that.

He could be mean to those who deserved it - but you would never deserve it.

You would never be on the opposite end of Asmo’s repartee because he simply loved you too much.

So, when Asmo said something to you that had crossed the line, he didn’t even realize it until after he said the words.

You had been having a particularly rough day and you sought Asmo out for some comfort.

He immediately suggested that the two of you have a spa day. It was the perfect way to relax!

Of course, Asmo was already fully prepared for a last-minute spa day.

He told you to just sit back and relax while he got everything ready. He knew that you would need extra pampering that day so he wanted to give you the full treatment.

And Asmo was the best at pampering you - but because of the rough day you had, you were on edge.

While doing different things, Asmo would make small comments about how you could improve certain aspects of your hair and skin routine.

Things like - your hair feels a little dry, you should try using a better conditioner. Or, your skin’s starting to look wrinkly, you need to start a better skincare routine.

To him, these comments were all coming from a place of love. He was just trying to give you advice since he had tried almost every beauty product known to the world.

But with you already being frustrated, the comments started to sound more like nagging; and, they began making you feel a bit self-conscious.

Wanting to avoid an argument, you suggested stopping the spa for now, but when Asmo kept pressing you for the reason, you snapped slightly.

The small argument quickly blew up into a bigger one and Asmo resorted to using his quick wit as a defense mechanism.

By the end of it, you had both said things you didn’t mean and you had left his room quickly, seeking solidarity in your own.

Asmo was the biggest attention seeker in the entire house, so he doesn’t take being ignored or avoided by anyone very well.

But he especially doesn’t take it well when it’s coming from you - the person he loves the most.

The day after the two of you fought, he expected you to be mad, but he had already prepared an apology for that.

The thing about Asmo is that he’s not afraid to apologize for something he did if he feels like he was in the wrong, unlike some of the other brothers.

Besides, the sooner he apologized, the sooner the two of you could make up. And that was his favorite part of any argument.

But, with you not speaking to him and avoiding him at all costs, how was he supposed to apologize?

Asmo only lasted one day of you ignoring him before he was at your door, tears in his eyes begging you to talk to him.

He was very dramatic with his begging, but with how dramatic Asmo usually was, it was par for the course.

If you let him in, he’ll immediately hug you, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he rests his head in the crook of your neck, crying as he apologizes as many times as it takes for you to forgive him.

He didn’t mean to say those things - he would never hurt you on purpose. It was just in the heat of the moment. He’s a very passionate guy after all.

Those are things he’ll tell you, his lips brushing against your skin as he says it, his hands sliding down just a little past what would be considered proper.

All things he knew would chip away at your walls.

He knew everything about you, especially when it came to things you liked. Things that made you cave no matter the situation.

Your resolve was shaky now and Asmo knew it, gently placing kisses on your neck and you subconsciously leaned into his touch, ever so slightly exposing more of your skin to him.

“Asmo,” you warned as he continued his kisses. You wanted to be mad at him, and you wanted to sound mad. But, your walls were crumbling under his touch and when his name left your lips, it was filled with love instead of anger.

A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he heard his name and he looked into your eyes, his eyes drawing you in even more.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you Y/N?” he asked innocently - far too innocently for the thoughts currently running through his mind.

His lips were inches from yours and you let out a small sigh before closing the gap between the two of you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist him.

You supposed you could let him off with a warning this time. After all, you were the one who snapped first.

Asmo wouldn’t hold it against you though. All that mattered was that the two of you made up.

Beel was absolutely panicking when he realized that you weren’t speaking to him and were avoiding him at all costs.

Mostly because he had no idea what he had done wrong and since you weren’t talking to him, he couldn’t even ask you.

It must have been something bad given the silent treatment. But, he couldn’t even think of something small he might have done - let alone something big enough for you to give him the silent treatment.

He thought about the last time the two of you interacted.

You were in his room with him, and he had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head was pressed against his chest as he held you close, a peaceful smile resting on his face.

He felt content and slowly but surely drifted off.

The next thing he knew, you had moved off him in a rush, exiting his bedroom before he could get a word out and you had been avoiding him ever since.

But, you had a very different recollection of what had happened.

You were cuddling against Beel as previously stated, and you were feeling content as well. Everything just felt right when you were in his arms.

But, only a few minutes into cuddling Beel told you, “I don’t know why we’re still doing this.”

Your eyes immediately snapped open as you tried to process what Beel had just said.

“What?” you asked softly.

His hand was tangled in your hair, holding your head in place, so you couldn’t look up at him to see if he was being serious or not.

“I think this pointless,” he murmured again and your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t really mean that, right?

“Beel,” you tried to say, but you were cut off by him continuing to speak.

“I think you should go,” he added and you decided to listen to him, pushing yourself off of him and going to your room, locking the door.

You hated that he could hold you so lovingly while he simultaneously broke up with you.

Seeing him was painful so you avoided him at all costs and you didn’t want to hear any excuse he might have so you refused to speak to him.

Beel had been doing everything he could to get your attention, but he failed at every attempt.

The lack of your presence had taken a toll on him. He had been feeling sad and lonely and he missed you more than anything.

Not to mention, he had seen you looking upset and he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why you were sad because he hated seeing it.

He would do anything to make you happy, he just wished you would let him help. Whatever it was - he could fix it.

He only lasted a couple of weeks without you before he decided he had to do something.

So one day when you had just gotten home from RAD, he picked you up and carried you to his room, shutting the door and blocking it with his body, despite your many protests.

He knew that his strength overpowered yours so you wouldn’t be able to push past him.

You could use the pact against him to get him to move, but he was hoping you wouldn’t resort to that - he just wanted to talk.

When you realized that Beel had you trapped you let out a sigh, sitting down on his bed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What do you want, Beel?” you asked him, looking anywhere but him. And the way you said his name angrily instead of the affectionate way you used to say it hurt.

But just hearing your voice, even if you sounded mad, was like a breath of fresh air.

He moved closer to you, his big puppy dog eyes, staring at you with so much love as he tried to figure out what to say.

“You seem sad,” he told you, carefully sitting down on the bed next to you and you let out a scoff.

“Of course I’m sad,” you replied and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

“Why?” he asked innocently and you looked at him incredulously.

When he saw the look you were giving him, he asked, “Did I do something? Is that why you won’t talk to me?”

And now your eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he wasn’t making any sense.

“You broke up with me,” you stated simply and his eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief. He would never.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you decided to recount the details of that day, telling him everything he said to you.

And his expression went from one of confusion to understanding as he realized what had happened.

Beel had a dream after he fell asleep cuddling you. The usual suspect - Mammon - was trying to get Beel to do something he didn’t want to do. He remembered saying all of those things to his brother in his dream - but he didn’t have any recollection of saying them out loud.

“What?” you asked as he finished talking. He was asleep?!

A small blush coated your cheeks as you realized that you never looked at him. He kept you in place at first and then you were so upset that you walked out without sparing another glance towards him.

Beel pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did that day, holding you close to him.

“I love you so much. I would never break up with you,” he told you quietly, hoping that you would accept what he was saying as the truth.

You immediately melted into his touch as you realized it was all a big misunderstanding and your skin felt hot wherever his met yours.

Beel let out a deep breath of relief when you began to relax and he was determined to never let you go again.

The last couple of weeks had been hard on both of you and if nothing else, it was only proof as to how much you loved each other.

He just hoped that his dreams never interfered with your relationship again.

Like Satan, Belphie is one of the most stubborn when it comes to apologizing or admitting he was wrong about something.

He handles issues with the silent treatment in the hopes that they’ll either resolve themselves or simply go away.

He’s never been one for taking the initiative and he’s even less motivated to do so when it comes to an argument.

The two of you had been bickering more than usual thanks to the eldest brother.

Belphie had been slacking off a little too much at RAD in favor of napping and it was starting to affect Lucifer.

He had tried to ask Beel to help his twin brother keep up with his studies, but there was only so much that he could do.

If Belphie didn’t want to do something, then, simply put, he wasn’t going to do it - no matter who Lucifer sicced on him.

But, still, Lucifer asked you to try since you had a bond that was both very different yet equally as important as Beel’s bond to Belphie.

You didn’t want to do it - plain and simple. You knew that it would put you in a hard place with Belphie.

But, as the human exchange student, you couldn’t help but feel like part of your responsibility was to help the demon brothers.

And whether Belphie believed it or not, you were just trying to help him. You knew that if he didn’t get caught up with his studies, the punishment from Lucifer would be much worse than your nagging.

But, after a few days' worth of you waking Belphie up to beg him to do his homework, both of you were getting fed up with it.

Belphie kept complaining about how you sounded like Lucifer and you kept telling him he was acting like a brat.

It didn’t get much further than that though until one night when Belphie decided to be particularly stubborn.

You came into his room just like you had been doing, but it didn’t matter what you did, Belphie refused to get up.

You tried to reason with him, you tried to remind him of what Lucifer would do if he didn’t get up, you even tried to bribe him, but nothing worked.

You sat next to the bed for a while as you tried to figure out your last step, and then an idea popped into your head.

You hated it because you knew that Belphie would hate it, but he left you no choice.

After preparing yourself and running through your plan multiple times, you got up and looked at Belphie who was sleeping peacefully.

You let out a small sigh before leaning closer and grabbing his favorite pillow that he was lying on as well as his favorite blanket.

In an instant, you had snatched them and ran off with them, seeking refuge in your room.

You had barely gotten your door locked when you heard Belphie trying to get into your room.

“Y/N, open the door,” Belphie said, as calmly as he could, but he was already mad.

“You need to do your homework, Belphie,” you replied.

“Just give me my blanket and pillow back,” he responded.

“After you finish your homework,” you reiterated, internally sighing at the situation. You didn’t want to act like his parent and you silently cursed Lucifer for asking you to do this in the first place.

“Ugh, you’re being so annoying!” Belphie snapped, but you were expecting some backlash about this situation.

“You’ll be thanking me later when you don’t have to deal with Lucifer,” you stated and you heard him let out another frustrated sigh.

“This is exactly why I hate humans,” Belphie stated, more to himself than anything, but you heard it loud and clear.

His eyes widened slightly when you opened the door to your bedroom, a look of hurt on your face.

He opened his mouth to take it back but he was cut off by you roughly shoving the blanket and pillow into him before slamming the door in his face and locking it again.

Belphie knew that he went too far so he decided to give you some time to cool off.

The next time he saw you he promised himself he would make it up to you.

But when he saw you next, you refused to look at Belphie, let alone talk to him. And that made Belpie annoyed all over again.

“You’re being childish,” he told you, only furthering your anger towards him.

“Says the one who can’t even be responsible and do their homework without someone breathing down their neck!” you snapped back.

The two of you didn’t talk after that for a long time - too long in the brothers’ opinions.

They knew that you and Belphie were too stubborn to talk to each other on your accord, so they decided to take things into their own hands.

You were sitting on your bed reading when suddenly the door to your bedroom burst open.

You looked up to see Belphie being shoved inside against his will by Beel before he shut the door, making sure to stand guard so Belphie couldn’t leave.

Belphie had a small pout on his face that, despite still being mad at him, you thought looked adorable.

He let out a small sigh, avoiding all eye contact as he did his best to come up with a way to get out of this situation.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, but you both knew it was pointless. Neither of you were leaving until you talked to each other.

Belphie was the master at winning arguments, but just this once, he asked himself what the point of it was. He cared about you way more than winning the argument.

“You know I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but on you as he spoke.

Your eyes immediately went to him. Was that his version of an apology?

“I was only trying to help you, Belphie,” you explained and he gave you a defeated look.

“I know,” he replied. That’s why this whole argument is pointless.

Belphie moved over to your bed now and sat down next to you, the two of you making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I caught up on all my studies,” he added and you let out a breath of relief. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

You were the first to reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. You stared at your intertwined fingers before softly saying, “I missed you.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, all feelings of the fight disappearing. He was just happy to be in your presence again.

Belphie moved quickly, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you down into the bed.

“Bel-!” you shouted in surprise but you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips.

You were laying chest to chest, his face only inches from yours, his arms keeping you there.

“If they hear us talking, they’ll come in; and, I’d rather not be interrupted for a while,” Belphie told you with a sly smirk before placing his lips on yours.

You immediately returned the kiss, a smile forming at the feeling.

No matter what you or Belphie said in the heat of the moment, you knew that your love for each other would never change.

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intoxicated-chan · 2 years ago

Note

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader smut request

Our dearest Miguel breaks the headboard during sex. That has for sure happened to him once or twice!! At least it's true in my headcanons!

Tell Me How U Feel

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ You’ve told him many many times that he must watch his strength whenever it comes to sex. It seems Miguel doesn’t like listening.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Tell Me How U Feel” by Black Dresses. Two posts in one day, especially smutty ones. Thanks for reading!! I used Spanishdict so please let me know if there is anything wrong!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 430

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, p in v, little obsession from Miguel, no prep, fluffy, restraints, hickies, bruising…..

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

“Las cosas que haría por ti.” (The things I would do for you.)

A yelp comes from your lips as you fall back, caught by surprise by the springiness from his bed. You push yourself up on your elbows, you look up at him to see him staring right down at you. The two of you were already nude.

Miguel crawls forward on the bed, he looks over your hickey littered neck and the bruise already forming on your hip. His eyes then came into contact with yours, he stopped when he was on top of you and pushed you back to lay back on the bed.

He takes your arms and moves them upward until your wrists are pushed against the headboard. You can feel the weird substance of Miguel’s webbing retrain your wrists.

His tongue runs over his lips as he grabs your legs, spreading them further. He didn’t tease or give any kind of warning, he slammed right into you.

Miguel let out a growl like sound, his pace quickened immediately which earned more and loud moans from you.

“Quiero todo de ti.” (I want all of you.) Miguel hissed, his hands moving to clutch the headboard as he slammed right into you, over and over again. You can hear the headboard slamming against the wall.

“Te quiero solo para mi.” (I want you to myself only.)

That’s when you heard the crack and your arms fall from the headboard, it makes Miguel stop his moment and click his tongue in annoyance.

“Dammit, Miguel!” You groan, “I just bought this frame!” You look at the damage, carefully moving away from the splinters and broken pieces of the wood, “Seriously?”

“You should’ve bought a better frame.”

“I shouldn’t be buying more frames if someone could watch their strength.” You retort, “Untie me.” You sit up and push your tied wrist to him.

He grabs your wrists, “No puedo controlarme cuando estoy contigo.” (I can’t control myself when I’m with you.) He uses his claws to pry off the webbing.

“Great! Now I have to get a new frame.” You get up from bed and gather your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked, grabbing his clothes and putting them on when he’s following you out the door.

You manage to put on your clothes, “To buy a new frame.” You grab your keys and put on your shoes.

“Can’t that wait?” But Miguel doesn’t follow you when he steps out the door.

“No.” And you shut the door, off to buy a new frame. You leave Miguel feeling frustrated.

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gauloiseblue · 1 year ago

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You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

#i wrote 2 konig fics in one day there's something wrong with me #cod #cod mw2 #call of duty #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #is this cannibal core?#idk girl #yandere konig #there's something about fingers in a mouth...........#i'm normal i swear #I've fixed the 3rd person pov. just noticed it now. oopsie my bad

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judyvan · 7 months ago

Text

7 Days - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic ("No Hands" Extension)

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Summary: Over the next 7 days, Chris made sure to use his reward whenever he got the chance. After winning the bet, his hands had seemed to gravitate towards your body. He would caress, kiss, and hold you more than normal, if that were even possible. In the 7 days that he could do whatever he wanted, you felt nothing shy of love, lust, and exhilaration. You were considering making the deal a permanent thing.

Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ sexually suggestive content/ touchy!chris x needy!reader/ slightly obsessive! chris/ fingering/ use of "you"/ PDA/ couldn't tell ya how many words

A/N: This is an extension of my fanfic "No Hands." To understand the context of this fic, check this one out. This has a lot of words, because there are 7 days' worth of blurbs in this fic, given the title. I am still new to writing, so bear with me. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx! 💋

Shoutout to @twirler2009 for this super sexy suggestion.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Day 1

Nick, Matt, and Chris had left the house to film a video. Their parents would be coming to visit from Boston the next day. You decide to get a head start on cleaning while no one else was in the house. You do the dishes, wipe off all the surfaces, sweep and mop the floors, and do some laundry. The scent of cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, and a freshly lit candle fill the air. The boys arrive back home and take in the look of the house.

"It looks great in here!" Nick says in awe.

"Wow. Thank you for cleaning. Normally I have to do all the work," Matt says, shooting you a smile.

"Oh, shut up, Matt," Nick and Chris say in unison.

Chris immediately approaches you. He takes you into his arms, lifts you up, and spins you around. Once your feet hit the floor, his hands meet your face, and his lips find yours. He kisses you long and deep, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Chris normally touches you in front of his brothers, but he's never kissed you around them like this. It’s clear he’s going to make the most out of this deal.

"Umm. HELLO, Chris! Me and Matt are still standing here," Nick says waving his hands, trying to capture Chris' attention. Matt looks down at his feet. The two of them don't know how to react to seeing Chris swap spit with you.

Despite Nick's attempt to stop your kiss, Chris doesn't move away from you until he wants to. He prolongs the kiss for a few more moments.

"Thank you so much for cleaning. You didn't have to do that," he says, placing a final peck to your lips.

"We get it Chris! You and your girlfriend kiss. Now can we please stop before I actually throw up. Thanks!" Nick says covering his eyes and walking out of the room.

You, Chris, and Matt giggle as Matt follows Nick out of the room.

"I'm going to go take a shower, then we can watch a movie or something," Chris says leaning in to kiss you again.

"Oh yeah? Just like how we watched a movie yesterday, right?" you say, flicking up an eyebrow and kissing him back. Just remembering his mouth touching you where his hands couldn’t, causes your skin to break out in goosebumps.

"I mean, I'm down for that too," Chris says, winking at you.

He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you to his bedroom. Chris sits you down gently on his bed. After grabbing some clothes, your boyfriend approaches you. His eyes scan your face. When his gaze lands on your lips, his tongue skims across his own. He just couldn’t get enough. The two of you are never going to be able to get anything done with this constant need for physical contact. He tilts his face towards yours, missing the warmth of your lips and the sweet flavor that accompanies them. You avoid his lips and softly peck the tip of his nose.

"Go take a shower, Chris," you say.

Chris grabs your chin and pulls you towards his face.

"Only after you kiss me," he says, pressing his lips into yours tenderly.

You practically melt into Chris as he draws out the kiss. Every movement that his mouth makes is very thought out, wanting to savor your taste and touch while he leaves you to take a shower.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Day 2

While Matt and Nick go to the airport to pick up their parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, you and Chris go to the store to pick up some materials before they close. Mary Lou had sent you a grocery list because she planned on using a family recipe to make dinner the next day.

While walking throughout the aisles at the store, Chris insisted that the both of you push the cart together. Your hands wrapped around the bar of the cart, and Chris' rested on top of yours. Chris stayed behind you, sandwiching you in between the cart and himself. He pressed his body against yours as the two of you searched for the items on the list. Chris lifted one of his hands and moved all of your hair to one side. He put his hand back in its place and began to kiss your neck.

“Chris,” you gasp. “We are in public.”

Chris’ lips move to your ear as he tightens his grip on your hands.

“I won fair and square. Remember?” he whispers. You can tell he has a grin on his face by the tone in his voice. His lips then reconnect with your neck, biting down and sucking gently.

Eventually, Chris moves your hair again and switches sides. Your mouth had fallen open, your heart was pounding, your mind was fuzzy, and your knees were weak. You grip onto the cart tighter, needing stability. The feeling of him devouring your skin made you stop in your track's multiple times. Chris kept pushing forward, forcing you to continue walking. Now that you’re unable to think clearly, Chris has to guide the cart down the correct aisles. He only glances up with his eyes to navigate, his mouth never leaving you. By the time you reach the register, your neck is flushed all over and Chris' lips are swollen.

“Did you guys find everything alright?” the cashier asks as Chris throws the items onto the conveyor belt.

“Yes, we did,” Chris says, slowly looking at you with a smug look on his face. The sight of you all hot and bothered along with the markings on your neck suddenly remind him of something.

“Oh, wait! Do you guys sell condoms?”

You shoot Chris a look, silently telling him to shut his mouth.

“What?” he says, confused by the look on your face. “We used the last one last night…I know you remember,” he smiles at you cockily, clearly proud of his performance after he got out of the shower.

You shove your elbow into his ribs.

“Chris!?”

“Umm… yeah. There should be some like 4 rows to your left,” the cashier replies, his eyes looking between you and your boyfriend.

“Okay. You stay here and I’ll go grab those,” Chris says, placing a kiss on your forehead and shooting finger guns at you before running off.

“I’m sorry about him,” you say to the cashier as he scans your items.

“Don’t worry about it. What’re you guys making?” he replies, changing the conversation topic.

“Lasagna.”

“Is it date night?”

“No, his parents are coming in town. His mom is going to cook a family recipe tomorrow night.”

“Ahh. I gotcha,” the cashier says as he scans the last few items.

You see Chris returning with a bottle of Pepsi and two packs of condoms in his hands. He places the items on the conveyor belt.

“Hey. Thanks man,” Chris says shooting the cashier a smile.

“No problem.”

Chris turns his attention towards you, his expression full of enthusiasm, as he points to the second box of condoms.

“Look what I found! I literally thought flavored condoms were like a figment of my imagination but turns out they’re very much real. We have to try them. Do a little taste test. You know?”

There is simply no other way for you to react to Chris’ excitement than to palm your face and slowly shake your head. The cashier lets out a chuckle as he puts the last few things in a bag. Chris pays the cashier while you load the bags in the cart.

“You guys have a great night,” the cashier says with a smile on his face.

“Oh trust me, we will,” Chris says smirking at him as he places you in between himself and the cart once again.

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Day 3

The smell of lasagna and garlic bread makes your mouth water as Mary Lou finishes cooking. Everyone floods into the kitchen and a line is formed. The food is set up buffet style. Whenever you and Chris get to the front of the line, he fixes your plate of food first and then makes his own once you’re satisfied. The two of you then walk to the dining room to join everyone else. Chris sits both of your plates down on the table. He then pulls his own chair out and immediately sits down. You look at him and furrow your brow. Chris always pulls your chair out for you, and you start to wonder why he didn’t this time. As soon as you begin to reach for the top of your chair, you feel Chris’ arm sneak around your thigh.

“What’re you doing?” he questions, staring up at you with “innocent” eyes.

You look up confused and everyone else seems to do the same. Chris then stretches his legs out.

“I want you to sit with me.”

“Chris there’s a seat right be-fucking-side you,” Nick says clearly confused.

“That seat’s taken,” Chris says nodding his head towards the completely empty chair. “This one isn’t.”

Chris nods his head downward and opens his legs even wider, dusting off his thighs. He moves his arm to your waist and gently pulls you onto his lap. He then picks up his fork and starts to eat nonchalantly. Everyone else has halted, all looking around slightly puzzled.

“Chris, why don’t you just let her sit in her own chair?” Jimmy asks, genuinely wanting to know the reasoning.

“Because she insists on going to her own house tomorrow so me, Matt, and Nick can spend some time with you guys one on one.”

“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Mary Lou says, smiling at you.

“I really appreciate it, but I think we can go a day without seeing each other,” you laugh gesturing at Chris with your eyes.

“How much do you want to bet it won’t even last an entire day?” Matt asks giggling.

Chris rubs small circles over your thigh with his thumb while everyone gambles. The stakes get higher and higher. Everyone looks to you, waiting to hear your response.

“I would love to bet all the money that I have; but I’m not very good at winning bets,” you say, shifting in Chris' lap and giving him a smirk. There's a stiffness that begins to form underneath of you. A soft peck is placed on your shoulder as Chris begins to gently squeeze your inner thigh, desperately trying to control himself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Day 4

The next morning, Chris wants to stay in bed a little longer than normal, not wanting you to go back to your house. He holds you close hoping to keep you that way forever. As you say your goodbyes to everyone, Chris is right on your heels. While talking to Jimmy, Chris slides in between the two of you, hugging you tightly. You have to look over his shoulder to continue the conversation, as if nothing happened. After a few minutes, he releases his tight grip and lazily slumps his body against yours. You finish your conversation with Jimmy and begin to step towards Nick and Matt. Chris interlocks his fingers with yours, holding your hand as you walk a singular foot. He sits on the arm of the couch and pulls your body against his while you talk. Finally, you chat with Mary Lou. As your conversation continues, Chris hugs you from behind and places gentle kisses to the top of your head.

"Okay, Chris. I get that your upset, but can you please release her from your grasp for 3 fucking seconds?" Nick asks.

"Oh, Nick be nice. I think it's sweet," Mary Lou states, showing Chris a small smile.

"Mom, you may think it's cute now, but you don't realize that this is an every single day occurance," Matt chimes in, backing Nick up.

Chris walks you to the door after you say a final goodbye to everyone. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. He gently grabs your chin and places a longing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he somehow manages to mutter.

"I'll see you, tomorrow. I love you," you say before walking out of the door. Despite your words, you knew that your night would end with you asleep in Chris' bed.

You sat at your house for hours, bored out of your mind. There was no Chris to keep you entertained. You could detect the feeling of your skin being left untouched. His text messages could only do so much.

You willingly take an Uber to Chris' house, not wanting him to see your car there, hoping to prank him. You sit on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to arrive. Eventually, the front door creaks open and Chris calls your name. The sound of 3 pairs of footsteps head towards your direction and you can hear Chris, Nick, and Matt talking.

"Chris she isn't here," Matt says.

"Yes, she is."

"Chris you are fucking insane," Nick replies.

Suddenly the door busts open and the three men enter the room. Matt and Nick's eyes grow wide when they see you.

"I knew it," Chris says, a huge grin taking over his face. "Get your ass over here."

You slowly start to walk towards Chris. He speeds up the process by grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him. His hands slide under your pajama shorts and squeeze your ass roughly as he hungrily kisses your lips. He seems like he's been starved for attention.

"That is disgusting. Let's get the fuck out of here," Nick says pushing Matt out of the room before stepping out himself, slamming the door behind him.

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Day 5

You feel something brush across your collarbone. Then something touches your jaw. Now your cheek. There's pressure on your lips.

You flick your eyes open and see Chris on top of you, peppering you with kisses to wake you up.

"Goodmorning," he says continuing to kiss your body. "Nick and Matt left so we get to spend the morning together."

"Okay," you say, smiling up at Chris.

You softly kiss his lips before he turns over. He pulls you on top of him and you nuzzle up to him quickly.

His hand gently massages your head, and your hand runs up and down his abs.

His hand draws patterns on your back while you twirl his hair around your finger.

Your thumb grazes across his stubble while his fingers slide back and forth in the waistband of your shorts.

The two of you stay in bed for hours, soaking in the presence of each other as you touch one another in any way that you can.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Day 6

Chris asks if Nick and Matt will have a game night with you two. After lots and lots of convincing, they finally agreed. Chris had his heart set on Twister, for whatever reason. Matt chooses to hold the spinner for the first round while you, Chris, and Nick play.

“Alright guys, left foot on blue,” Matt says.

The game doesn’t go smoothly for very long. After just a few more directions, you, Chris, and Nick are all intertwined with each other.

“Right hand green.”

As you reach for the green dot, you slip, pulling Chris down with you.

“Nick wins,” Matt says laughing at the flailing limbs on the ground.

“Yes! Give me that fucking spinner,” Nick replies, snatching it out of Matt’s grasp.

You, Chris, and Matt prepare to take your turn.

“Right foot red,” Nick says, starting the three of you off.

After a few more rotations, Matt falls on his elbow, leaving just you and Chris. He gives you a competitive sneer.

“Left hand yellow.”

You are now on all fours with you head under Chris’ torso. He is straddling your body with both of his hands on the left side of your hip.

“Right hand red.”

You move your hand and your back arches as you stretch to reach the circle. Your head is now directly between Chris' kneecaps. As Chris moves his hand, his face is placed right at the top of your arch, staring directly at your ass.

“Hey, maybe we should try this position tonight,” Chris jokes.

Matt’s eyes go wide and Nick screams.

“WHATTTTT?! Christopher you are fucking sick. I am not playing this game with you anymore. You need help and now SO DO I,” Nick says, dropping the spinner. Matt starts to make his way out of the room and Nick follows right behind him.

Chris hits the floor as he begins to laugh, rolling onto his back.

“I win,” you say, straddling him before leaning down to meet his lips.

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Day 7

You and Chris had planned to meet your friends at the movies. You were really liking how touchy Chris was being, given his reward. It is for sure that you didn't want him to stop anytime soon, even though this would mark 7 days of you losing the bet. To ensure that Chris would be extra touchy, you decide to wear a more revealing outfit; a low hanging top with the tiniest jean skirt that you own. You meet Chris in the living room. When you enter the room, you find him sitting on the couch, his phone in his hand. The sound of your heeled shoes grabs his attention but doesn't hold it for long. You give him a spin and his jaw hits the ground.

"I am so glad I won this bet. There is no way I would've survived if you decided to dress like that and wouldn't let me touch you."

You can practically see the drool coming out of his mouth.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?" you question, walking over to him, coming to a stop between his legs. He looks up at you from his seated position. You can see the want in his eyes. He slides both of his hands under the back of your skirt. Your thong didn't cover much. Chris gently squeezes your, almost completely bare, ass under your skirt. He throws his head back as he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He brings his head back forward and rests his forehead on your stomach.

"You know what? Maybe we should just stay home," Chris suggests.

You pick his head up by sliding your finger under his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes.

"No. We can't do that. Our friends are waiting on us," you say seductively, gently pulling down his lower lip with your thumb.

You begin to slowly back away from him and walk towards the door, dramatically swaying your hips. You pull out some lip gloss from your bag, purposefully dropping it on the floor.

"Come on, Chris."

You turn to look at him before bending over to retrieve your lip gloss, revealing the thong underneath of your skirt. You stay in that position until Chris makes his way over to you. As he smacks your ass, you stand up, leading him out of the door.

"You just wait until we get back home," he says with trouble written all over his face.

Before heading into the theater, you make sure to grab a blanket from your car, knowing that your legs will get cold. Chris places his hand in your back pocket as the two of you walk to meet up with your friends. You hit up the snack bar, grabbing some popcorn and two Pepsis. As the group files into the theater, Chris makes sure that the two of you go first. He wants you to sit in the end seat. You sit down, draping the blanket over your legs. The two of you chat with your friends while you wait for the movie to start. Eventually the lights dim, and everything goes quiet.

Throughout the entire movie, you are desperately trying to get Chris' attention. You begin to slide your leg up and down Chris'. You can see him trying to keep his composure. You then glide your hand onto his thigh, rubbing it gently. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You remove your hand from Chris' leg and grab some popcorn. You can see Chris turn to you from the corner of your eye. You need him. Bad. You begin to eat the popcorn gradually, piece by piece. You provocatively take the popcorn into your mouth, pulling in each piece carefully with your tongue. You look at Chris, making eye contact. After the last few pieces slide into your mouth, you slowly take your fingers into your mouth, one by one. After licking the mixture of butter and salt off of each finger, painfully slow, you let your tongue graze across your lips and release a soft hum. You place your hand back on Chris' thigh and face the big screen once again. Chris' eyes are still fixated on you. You trail your hand up his leg, getting closer and closer to his dick. You barely graze over it with your pinky. Chris pulls you even further into him.

"What're you doing?" he murmurs.

"Nothing," your eyes never leave the screen.

"You look too good to be doing this right now," he says kissing your temple tenderly.

"You think I look good?" you ask, turning to finally look at him.

"Without a doubt."

You lean into Chris' ear, letting them rest of your fingers meet your pinky.

"And what're you going to do about that?" you question, pulling away from his ear.

"Take the fucking popcorn," Chris mutters lowly, pushing the bucket into your hands.

He slides his hand under your blanket, immediately feeling the wetness pool between your legs. Without hesitation, he moves your thong to the side and dips his fingers into you, curling them right into you G spot. You walls pull him in and you start to squeeze your legs together, searching for more pressure. You grip onto the popcorn bucket, shoving some into your mouth to drown out the sounds of your whimpers. You begin to squirm around in your seat slightly. Chris speeds up his pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You start to bounce one of your feet up and down. You take one hand off of the popcorn bucket and grasp onto the arm of your chair, squeezing tightly as you feel your insides tighten. Luckily, a joke was just made in the movie, earning a laugh from the crowd. You were discreetly able to let out a low moan as you came onto Chris' fingers. He pulled them out of you and grabbed some popcorn out of the bucket. He watched you catch your breath as the buzz died down. He then tossed the pieces of popcorn into his mouth, making sure to lick the remnants of you off of his fingers after he was done. He shakes his head as his tongue pokes against his cheek, a scoff falling from his lips.

"Just wait 'til we get fucking home."

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