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uvobreakmylegs · 7 months ago

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A Rock and a Hard Place

Hisoka comes across a wayward darling

Hisoka x reader (with tiny bits of Chrollo x reader)

Warnings: gore, blood, graphic depictions of violence, murder, asphyxiation, kidnapping, manipulation, abuse, mentions of captivity, mentions of potential noncon

Word count: 10.8k

Dusk had long since fallen when Hisoka boarded the train alongside a dozen others, some already looking weary as they anticipated a long and boring journey that would take over the next few hours, and others not looking as bothered as their stop wasn't too far away.

Hisoka was among the group that would be on the train for a while; his destination was several hours away across the Saherta border, and as the magician settled down in an open seat, his unhappy mood could be seen by anyone as he leaned his head against the headrest.

Today had been a disappointment.

He thought he'd found an interesting fighter, as whispers of a formidable man within the Irnamur region had reached his ears. A man who was able to manipulate parts of his own body and turn his flesh and bones into blades or claws or whatever he saw fit, in essence turning himself into a living weapon. Someone like that should've been a worthy opponent, one who would give Hisoka that thrill he constantly sought when he found nen users who were exceptional.

It turned out to be a farce.

The instant Hisoka revealed himself the man ran away, and once he had been cornered, the man begged for his life and explained that his power wasn't what it seemed: he couldn't actually manipulate his body into weaponry, the only thing his ability could do was make his victims see what he wanted them to see, and all of it was just a scheme to con non-nen users out of their jenny and to keep them from going to law enforcement when he threatened them. He'd never intended on someone actually proficient in nen to confront him.

The sight of the con artist crying and begging for his life combined with the fact that he had pissed himself from fear had Hisoka's mood hit rock bottom, and he left the man where he was, though not before taking one of his cards and slicing it through the man's eyes for wasting his time. The magician left the pathetic man writhing on the ground as he clutched at his bleeding face.

Hisoka pulled out his phone to scroll through it as he waited for the train to start moving, other passengers walking by and not sparing more than a glance in his direction as they looked for their own places to sit. The type of clothing he usually wore normally turned a lot of heads, but since Hisoka had his hair down without his makeup and was dressed in a casual outfit of hoodie and jeans, he was easily able to blend in with the rest of those on board.

In a few hours, he would have returned to the place he currently called “home”, and from there he could forget about this whole incident. Hopefully the next individual to pique his interest would be someone more worthwhile of his time.

Or perhaps he might see Chrollo again.

At the thought of the illusive leader of the Phantom Troupe, Hisoka opened up his text messages. Machi was usually the one who contacted him when the troupe was meeting up, and though there weren't any new messages from her, he wanted to get a look at the last time she had gotten in touch.

It was a few months ago, he saw, looking at the date next to the message she had sent. It was hard to tell based on that alone when the troupe would reconvene. He could easily receive a message tonight telling him to meet the following week, or it could be several more months before he would hear anything in regards to a new job. While Hisoka could message Machi to ask about any upcoming work, she never responded to any of his texts. And ultimately, it was useless to ask her as the only one who knew for certain what would be coming next was Chrollo.

All Hisoka could do was wait for the next message to be sent.

Placing the phone back in his pocket, he couldn't help but let out a disappointed sigh as he settled into his seat, staring out at the window next to him while a majority of the other passengers were still milling about. He could always see if Illumi was up to anything interesting, he noted to himself.

A few minutes later the train began to move, and as the speed steadily picked up and the moon shown down on the grassy plains outside the window, Hisoka closed his eyes as he decided to rest a little during the journey.

Unfortunately, only a few miles in his rest was interrupted by one of the worst things anyone could encounter on public transport:

A crying toddler.

Though it sounded more like wailing and screaming, and the sound of the child's voice carried throughout the entire train car while the child's parents seemingly did nothing to try and console them. Perhaps they allowed the child to continue as they were just to give everyone else a taste of what they dealt with on a daily basis.

Hisoka was inclined to say that he could tolerate quite a lot and was generally unbothered by such things, but today he didn't feel quite as patient this time, finding himself becoming more than a little irritated at all of the noise. When the child continued to cry for a period of several minutes without any sign of losing breath, Hisoka felt that his limit had been reached. He got out of his seat, grabbed his bag and walked into the aisle as he headed for the car behind him.

Once the door shut and the crying could no longer be heard, Hisoka let out the smallest sigh of relief, happy that the enclosed area between the cars was largely quiet, as was the next car he walked into. The new problem he now faced was that there was no room for him there, with all of the seats being taken up, and so he continued to the next car only to find a similar situation.

When he made his way for a third car was when there was something that was slightly of note: a man standing in the area between the carriages was making a phone call. The brunette with messy shoulder length hair looked over to him when the door opened, then turned away, his voice becoming a bit more hushed while Hisoka took the time to close the door behind him.

“They haven't noticed anything,” Hisoka overheard the man say.

Though the magician was barely paying attention and already halfway towards the next door, having walked by the man on the phone without even a second glance. His focus was on the widow that lead to the next car. That one didn't seem to be as full; hopefully there would be no screaming children in-

“Yes, Chroll – uh, I mean, Mr. Lucilfer.”

The utterance of that name had Hisoka stop in his tracks, and he looked back to the man on the phone who was currently nodding along to whatever was being said to him.

The likelihood of anyone other than the Chrollo he knew being on the other end of that line was less than one percent.

It wasn't as though it was a common name.

Hisoka stepped to the side, pulling out his own phone and acting as though he was also there to make a call so as to avoid arousing suspicion from the other passenger. Putting the phone up to his ear, the magician glanced back again to the man, who was speaking again.

“The train got a little delayed at the last station, but they didn't seem concerned when I last checked on them,” he said, “as long as there aren't anymore delays, we should pull into Merchester at 9:30 – er, 21:30.”

The man's voice was even more hushed when he next asked “you'll have it with you when we get there, right?”

Whatever was being said now, Hisoka couldn't hear. A shame. He really wanted to know what Chrollo was telling him. But with the distance between them, Hisoka heard nothing and watched on as the man was nodding along again.

What exactly did Chrollo want with him?

Hisoka looked away, still acting as though he was waiting for a call to get through while he wondered over what exactly was going on. To his knowledge, Chrollo would on occasion hire random people for jobs, usually ones that he knew he could control by offering them large sums of jenny. The reason the boss did such things tended to be that the tasks were simply too menial to bother the other members of the troupe with, but sometimes there was purpose beyond that.

As he was only able to hear one half of the conversation, it was hard to tell why exactly this man had been chosen by Chrollo. Or why Chrollo was in contact with him to begin with.

Only a few moments later, the man had put away his phone and was heading into the car Hisoka had been heading for. The magician felt the man's gaze in his back as he passed by, though that ended when Hisoka began to speak, acting as though his call had finally gotten through. The man left shortly after that, not saying a word.

Waiting a few moments after the door slid shut, he took a step back and looked into the next car through the window, watching as the man walked down the aisle.

He caught the moment when the man turned his head to look at someone sitting in one of the seats towards the middle of the car. Even from his vantage point, Hisoka was able to note that the man gave that person an encouraging smile before he continued along his way. Despite not knowing exactly what was happening, the magician was intrigued.

If it involved Chrollo, he wanted to know more.

When the man had reached the end of the car and taken his own seat was when Hisoka entered. Now luck was on his side as there were plenty of open seats available. Better yet, the area where the man had paused moments before seemed to be free of people, with the exception of the person the man had looked at, of whom Hisoka could only see the top of their head from where he currently stood.

The disappointment that had weighed him down when he first got onto the train was now forgotten as Hisoka walked forward, curious as to what exactly he had stumbled across.

He continued until he neared the point where the man had stopped, and then he saw you.

Hisoka's first thought was that you were unremarkable.

The second was that you looked tired as you leaned against the window, clutching a backpack you had resting on your lap. There was a slight frown on your face and your eyes seeming distant as you looked out at the landscape that went by. Though you weren't as distracted as you appeared to be as you turned your gaze towards him once you realized he was there, and it was impossible to miss the guarded look in your eye.

Hisoka acted as though he didn't notice while he took a seat in the row opposite you. Your gaze stayed on him for a few moments longer while he set his bag on the seat next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the way your eyebrows furrowed. As if you were trying to remember where you had seen him.

Oddly enough, the magician had a strange feeling as though he had seen you before as well.

Hisoka kept his eyes on the phone that he pulled out once again until he sensed that your gaze had shifted once more, and when he looked back, he found you staring out the window again. Though you didn't seem to be a nen user, you were aware enough to keep an eye on your surroundings, glancing around your general area every now and then, although the glances may not have been as subtle as you thought they were.

Leaning back into his seat, Hisoka mused about you, still uncertain about the whole situation. You were clearly nervous, looking up at everyone who occasionally walked past you and acting guilty just sitting in your seat. Almost as though you were expecting someone would eventually show up and you would need to make a run for it.

“They haven't noticed anything”

The words the man spoke earlier came to mind, and now he wondered: did you even know you were being taken to Chrollo? It was hard to tell based on that alone, but your behavior combined with what he had overheard earlier made it seem like a possibility.

But what for?

Did this have to do with the troupe? Under normal circumstances Hisoka may have thought that was the case, but he had actually showed up to the last meeting and there had been no mention of bringing anyone in. And as far as he knew, there hadn't been any meetings after that one, so he didn't think he had missed anything.

If it wasn't for the troupe, then perhaps it was personal reasons.

But what sort of personal reasons could Chrollo have that involved you?

Hisoka kept an eye on you. And the longer he did so, the more the nagging feeling that he had definitely seen you before grew on him.

Minutes passed by with nothing happening; you didn't move from your seat, the man hadn't checked in on you, and the cogs in Hisoka's mind were still turning as he tried to understand what exactly was going on. Your gaze was still on the view outside, dark circles beneath your eyes while you listlessly watched through the window.

That expression on your face….. He had definitely seen it before.

But where?

The answer to that question continued to elude him.

Then half an hour went by. As much as he wanted to ask you for details on what was going on, he chose to keep quiet for now, waiting to see if your companion would join you at any point and he might learn a bit more about what was going on that way. So Hisoka kept an eye on you while you grew more tired, becoming less alert as time went on. Still, you fought to keep alert, shaking your head every now and then as if to keep the sleepiness out of your brain. Your companion stayed where he was.

After minutes of nothing happening, Hisoka checked his phone for the time. In less than an hour, the train would reach Merchester, your apparent destination where Chrollo was waiting for you.

At that point your companion moved, getting up from his seat with his phone in hand as he walked by where you sat again. While you didn't say anything to him, the two of you made eye contact as he passed by. You gave him a hopeful smile which he returned, and as he walked back to the area between the cars, you seemed a bit less tense, like a wave of relief had washed over you as you leaned further into your seat. In doing so, a bit of your clothing shifted, allowing Hisoka a clear view of your neck. From where he was sitting, Hisoka could clearly see the markings on your skin. The discolored blotches that decorated your neck and went up too high for you to cover completely. Hickeys that had been left in such a way so you couldn't cover them up.

You were very aware of that fact, as only a moment later you sat up straight, your hand going to cover your neck while you nervously glanced over at him. Hisoka once more feigned obliviousness, and while you did relax slightly, you were back to how you had been when he had first entered the car: tense and on guard.

When your hand finally left your neck, you wrapped both of your arms around your backpack while you turned your head downwards, and in that moment, there were two very clear emotions coming through in your body language and the look he could see in your eyes:

Shame and helplessness.

And with that, a memory returned to him.

He was right. He had seen you before.

Back at Heavens Arena.

The elevator on the 200th floor had stopped for him, and much to the magician's surprise, Chrollo had been standing in the car. Two others were there as well: Shizuku, and you. You were standing in the far corner with your head facing down with one broken arm hanging in a sling. Though Hisoka barely noticed either of you when he stepped through the elevator doors as he was much more interested in how he had managed to run into Chrollo so unexpectedly.

The two members of the troupe seemed just as surprised to see him, and while Chrollo had given the magician a polite greeting, Shizuku ended up carrying on what became a conversation regarding Hisoka's history at the tower, which then managed to transition into a discussion about make-up and how well the brand he used lasted in fights. Since there had been no way to get to Chrollo in that moment, Hisoka had obliged, the time during the long ride down being the longest he had ever spoken to her.

All the while Hisoka felt taunted by the fact that Chrollo was right there and he couldn't do anything about it.

He'd noted that something felt a bit off about Chrollo, however. While Shizuku seemed to be acting normal enough, it felt as though something was simmering beneath Chrollo's cool exterior. Something that possibly resembled anger.

You went largely unnoticed by him still, and if he had bothered to think much about you, Hisoka's only assumption would have been that you just happened to get onto the elevator before the other two did.

So it was a surprise when the instant the elevator finally reached the ground floor Chrollo reached back to take the hand of your uninjured arm and lead you through the doors. The way he had grabbed you had also been far more forceful than he ever would have expected from the Phantom Troupe leader.

Your eyes met his for a moment when you glanced over as you passed him, and the emotion he saw in them was that of pure misery.

“Who is that?” Hisoka had asked Shizuku as Chrollo led you away.

“Someone boss is invested in,” she replied.

“Is he? He doesn't seem very happy with them.”

Shizuku simply shrugged in response.

While he had gotten the sense she was withholding information, he ultimately didn't care about you. Hisoka assumed that you were part of some smaller scheme being carried out by a few select members of the troupe; perhaps a hostage or someone being carted off to Feitan for information. Either way, you weren't important.

Or so he had thought.

Because here you were all this time later, still alive and on your way to Chrollo.

Chrollo, who, as Shizuku had said, was invested in you. And if boss really was the one who had made those marks on your neck, the reasons he wanted you were more personal than he initially realized.

They haven't noticed anything

The man's words from earlier replayed in his head as he put all of the information together and Hisoka smirked to himself as he now understood what was going on:

This was a runaway attempt by an unwilling lover, one in which you had reached out to someone that you thought was outside of Chrollo's sphere of influence. But your trust had clearly been misplaced as the man had sold you out, and now this escape of yours was going to end in tragedy once you stepped off the train and found your kidnapper waiting for you.

If it stayed the current course, that was.

Hisoka collected his bag as he stood back up.

You looked up immediately when he did that, and when Hisoka tossed his bag across the way and sat down in the seat opposite yours, worry overtook you. You sat up straighter still, clutching at your backpack while you looked him over, trying to figure out what was going on.

The look of worry on your face only worsened when he smiled at you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you finally spoke up.

“Do you need something?” you asked, though you kept your voice down, likely for the sake of not drawing attention to yourself.

“Not especially,” he answered, also keeping his voice low as he continued with “I wanted to sit here.”

“Weren't you already sitting?” you asked, your brow going up as you looked at him suspiciously.

“I decided to move over here. Is that so strange?”

“This late in the journey? Yeah, it is.”

You kept your eyes on him for the most part, though he noticed the quick glances about you, like you thought someone else would come and trap you.

“I thought you could use some company,” Hisoka said, “you seem rather lonely.”

“I'm not,” you answered, “I was actually enjoying being by myself.”

“Ah. I misread the situation, then.”

“Guess so,” you said, “you can go back to your original seat.”

“No.”

Hisoka made a point to sink lower into the seat as he said “I'm comfortable now, so I think I'll stay.”

You didn't look happy when he said that, and you looked toward the aisle, seemingly in the hopes that your companion would come by and help you. Unfortunately for you, the man was nowhere to be seen, and so you stayed where you were for now, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to figure out what to do in this moment.

Hisoka was in the same boat in that regard, questioning on if he should reveal the scheme you were caught up in now and see your reaction or if he should play with you a little bit longer.

The combative look in your eyes had him choose the latter.

“What has you traveling this late?” Hisoka asked.

You didn't answer.

He ignored that fact as he continued with “you don't look as though you're traveling for leisure. Are you meeting up with someone? Is it family? Friends?”

Once more you didn't reply.

Hisoka's lips curled into a smile as he then asked “boyfriend?”

Although you continued to remain silent, he saw the subtle reaction that word brought out of you. A brief stiffening of your facial features before the slight frown on your lips set in just a bit deeper, your eyes glaring at something invisible in the space in front of you while you clutched at your backpack just a bit tighter.

“Ah, so that's who you're going to see, is it?” Hisoka asked, smiling good naturedly as he added “though it's a bit of a shame for me. I was hoping I might have a chance with you.”

You rolled your eyes while you scoffed, now looking more annoyed.

“That's a pretty rude reaction,” he said.

“It's also pretty rude to keep bugging someone after you learn that there's another person in the picture,” you replied.

“So you're loyal to him? That's very cute.”

That time you glared at him.

Hisoka tilted his head as he feigned confusion, asking “did I say something wrong?”

“I'd really like it if you would go away,” you told him.

“I told you: I'm comfortable here.”

The scowl on your face worsened, but you now seemed determined to ignore him, leaning your elbow on the armrest as you kept your gaze on the outside once again. The frown on your face and your furrowed eyebrows remained, however, and he saw you fighting the urge to glance over in his direction.

Your companion had yet to return, so he was most likely still on the phone. Though probably not with Chrollo. Hisoka doubted that Chrollo would want him away from you for too long, so whoever he was speaking to was most likely someone outside of the situation.

Careless. But at least it worked in the magician's favor.

Hisoka began to speak to you again, asking more questions that were designed to get beneath your skin. But this time there was no response to anything he asked as you were determined to ignore him. After about a minute of getting nothing out of you, he pouted.

“You're being boring,” he said.

“Good. Maybe that'll make you leave me alone,” you said, “feel free to go away.”

“No.”

You shrugged as you said “then I guess you need to sit there and be bored by me.”

“How heartless,” said Hisoka, “and here all I was trying to do was be friendly.”

“Now that's a fucking lie.”

He couldn't help but smirk a little at that response of yours. You were trying to keep it suppressed, but he saw that little bit of fire in you whenever you snapped at him.

He was starting to like you.

And as he looked at those marks on your neck again, he thought of a new way to rile you up.

“Really, though,” he said, bringing your attention back to him as he continued with “what does your boyfriend do to you?”

You snapped your head back in his direction, breathing in harshly as you looked like you wanted to hit him.

But you restrained yourself.

Adjusting the grip on your bag, you made a move to get up and leave – but the area between the seats were small enough and Hisoka's legs were long enough that he was able to stretch one across and block you in. You stopped and looked back to him. While you could probably get over his leg if you really wanted to, you seemed to want to take back some sort of control in this situation and make him get out of your way.

“Move,” you ordered.

“No,” Hisoka answered. He couldn't help smiling when your glare worsened.

“Are you stupid?” you asked, “there's a lot of people around. You really want me to get everyone's attention and expose you for being a creep?”

“It wouldn't be a good idea for you to go that far.”

“And why's that?”

Hisoka smiled as he said “because if you make too much of a fuss, it'll only be worse when Chrollo collects you.”

At the sound of that name, you stilled.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him in shock, your mind no doubt racing as you struggled to understand how a random bystander could know anything about you or the person you were running from.

Eventually you forced yourself to reply.

“… I don't know what you're talking about,” you said, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

Hisoka laughed.“If you're going to lie you need to respond faster. The fact that it looks like your soul is ready to leave your body doesn't help, either,” he told you.

You frowned, though the look of shock didn't leave you.

“You're being serious?” you asked.

“I am.”

“…… Is he here?”

“No. But he is waiting for you at the next station,” Hisoka answered.

You fell against the back of your seat, trying to keep your breathing level as you processed this new information.

“Chrollo couldn't know about this,” you said, “Nevin and I…. We were so careful. We made sure we covered our tracks. He can't know.”

“He does,” Hisoka answered.

“How do you know that?"

“I heard your friend talking to him on the phone earlier.”

“What?”

You looked gutted when you asked that.

“You heard me. Your friend is setting you up,” he told you.

A new wave of shock swept over you, though this time it was quickly followed by denial.

“That's a lie,” you said, shaking your head as you added “he wouldn't do that to me. Nevin wants to help me.”

Hisoka shrugged, saying “if that's what you want to believe, then fine. But don't blame me when Chrollo collects you.”

The magician then moved his leg away as he continued with “do as you please.”

You were caught off-guard by that reaction, and you looked to the now unblocked path before looking back to him. It didn't seem as though you knew what to do and you were still uncertain if you could believe him or not.

“Do you have any proof?” you asked a moment later.

“Proof?”

“Do you have anything other than your word?” you reiterated.

“How in the world would I have proof when I only just learned of all this?” Hisoka asked back.

Before you could answer, Hisoka interjected to say “but ask yourself this: who do you think Nevin has been speaking to every time he leaves the car to take a call?”

“….. Chrollo?”

Hisoka nodded.

“Your friend is probably still on the phone with him; if you want to know for certain, go and check,” the magician added.

Once more, you looked to the path that Hisoka now allowed for you, your mind now racing as you went over your options, thinking to yourself on if you could trust the word of a stranger or if you should keep your faith in your friend. While Hisoka had no proof, the fact that he knew of Chrollo and your connection to him should have been enough to give you pause.

It seemed that you made your decision when you stood. And after slinging your backpack on, you stepped past him and into the aisle.

But you didn't go to where Nevin was.

You went in the opposite direction, away from both your friend and Hisoka as you walked down the aisle at a fast pace. The door to the next car slid shut after you, and Hisoka watched through the glass windows as you went further and further towards the end of the train. There wasn't any stop between here and Merchester; you couldn't get off before then. Not without taking a rough landing.

Would your companion notice before then?

As if on queue, the sliding door at the end of the car opened, and Hisoka glanced behind to find that your friend had reentered. He seemed calm as he placed his phone back in his pocket, though it looked as though his mind was on other things as he walked back down towards his seat as there was a distant look in his eyes.

That changed when Nevin reached where you had been previously, and once he saw the empty seat, he stopped.

“Wh-where's-?”

The man stuttering forced Hisoka to look up at him, and Nevin managed to compose himself a bit as he asked “the person who was sitting there – d-do you know where they went?”

Hisoka shrugged.

Nevin seemed annoyed, but he didn't bother saying anything more to the magician as he began walking again, heading to the other end of the car in search of you. He didn't seem worried at the moment – there were innocent explanations for your absence, but no doubt he'd been given strict instructions to keep an eye on you at all times. Whatever payday he was hoping to get from Chrollo wouldn't come if he failed in any part of his task.

When Nevin failed to find you in either of the bathrooms next to the car, Hisoka noticed when he began to seem more nervous. He stepped in for a brief moment to grab his own bag that he had left sitting on his seat and then took off at a hurried pace as he went to hunt for you.

Hisoka checked the time.

Forty five minutes.

Hisoka counted to ten before he got up as well, taking his time as he followed the same path the two of you had taken. You might be gone already, in which case that man would no doubt turn into a wreck as he contemplated trying again to hunt you down or phoning Chrollo to tell him that he had failed. But if you were still here, what would he do once he found you? Talk you into believing him? Or use physical force to keep you on board for over half an hour?

Would you try to get off the train before he made it to you? Or would you confront him? What would you even be able to do if you confronted him?

And what did Hisoka hope to gain from this?

Truthfully, he hadn't even thought on that in the beginning. All he knew was that Chrollo had some involvement and therefore, Hisoka needed to know what was going on. But now that he'd involved himself and alerted you, what would happen from here? Was there any way this could lead to that fight he wanted with Chrollo? It didn't seem as though any of the troupe would be present with him, so it was as good a chance as any.

Although that didn't mean that the station setting would be a good one. While the late hour meant that there would be fewer people at the station when you got off, there would still be people regardless, and if things were too public, law enforcement would end up being called. Should he wait until you and Chrollo were away from the station? But doing that would mean following him, and while Hisoka was good at tailing people, Chrollo was just as skilled at sensing when he was being followed.

Maybe Hisoka should take you before the train reached Merchester, tell your friend where he would be and let the message be passed on to Chrollo. Then all he would do was wait until the leader of the Phantom Troupe arrived for you. If you had value to Chrollo then using you as bait would be easy. And once he had arrived, Hisoka could let you go. Hell, he could let you go after your friend got the message; you weren't needed for anything else.

But how would Chrollo react if you were killed?

The thought suddenly struck him, and Hisoka's mind began to race as he wondered: if he used one of his cards to slice your throat open and let you bleed out, what would the boss do?

If you died right in front of him, would Chrollo be moved in any way?

…. He was getting ahead of himself.

Right now Hisoka needed to focus on the present: that meant finding out where you were.

The answer to that question was revealed when Hisoka found his way to the back of the train. In one of the baggage cars, he found you and Nevin. You were keeping your distance, your hand ready to grab at the handle of the door on the other end while Nevin was speaking to you as he slowly began to close the distance. Nevin looked over when he heard the door open, and when he saw Hisoka walk in, his expression became confused.

“You – why are you here?!” he asked, his tone accusatory.

Hisoka once again shrugged, leaning against the nearby wall as he waited to see what the outcome of this confrontation would be like. The two of you made eye contact when he looked to you, and though you were still wary, his presence seemed to have given you some sense of security.

You got your friend's attention when you said “Nevin, tell me the truth.”

Your friend turned back to you, asking “truth? What are you talking about?”

“Tell me what's really going on,” you demanded.

Nevin froze when you said that, and Hisoka could see the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

The lie was obvious.

There was anger bubbling in you now, and your tone reflected that as you said “is it true that you set me up? Is Chrollo really waiting for me at the station?”

Nevin seemed shocked, stuttering out “I-I, I don't-”

“Answer the question!” you yelled.

After a few moments of seeming lost, the man's shoulders sank.

It took him a moment to gather himself before he said “please, you need to understand. My mom – her illness came back. I didn't know what to do, and then Mr. Lucilfer said he would give me all the funds I needed to help her.”

He sold you out. Hisoka had told you the truth.

That revelation hit you hard, and you needed to place a hand on the door you were leaning on to keep yourself upright as despair took you over. That was likely the point in using your friend for this: to teach you that no matter who you went to, Chrollo could control them.

Such a discovery would break the spirits of most people, and it seemed to have broken yours.

Excuses and explanations came spilling from your friend's mouth, about how his parents' savings were decimated last time, how they were never good at saving, how the options he had to help them were limited. How you should understand that he couldn't stand by and let his mother suffer. That you should understand that he had no choice. That you would do the same if you were in the position he was.

You weren't responsive to any of what he said; your mind appeared to only be focused on the fact that you'd been tricked and that there had never been any chance of you escaping your captor. As a result, you stared off into nothing, your movements looking robotic as your hand reached inside your backpack to grab at something, meanwhile your companion was repeating the same drivel, desperately trying to get you to empathize with his family's plight. The longer you went without reacting, the more distressed Nevin became.

“Please, think about this logically,” he pleaded, “there's actual good that can come of this: you going back can help save someone's life. That's worth it, right? My mom is worth that, right?”

You didn't respond.

Then he added “besides, Mr. Lucilfer doesn't seem that bad. I get that he's weird, but all he wants to do is love you, right? It's not like things would be that awful for you if you went back to him.”

Nevin clearly didn't believe the things coming from his mouth now, and all of it was part of that effort to make you stay where you were. But your breath hitched when he said that, and at that moment all that could be seen was a dead look in your eyes.

Your friend was still talking, you weren't doing anything, and the time was slowly ticking away.

Hisoka found himself becoming disappointed in you.

After he'd bothered to warn you, were you really going to do nothing? You were really going to fold so easily and go back beneath the watch of your captor? The confirmation that Chrollo really was waiting for you was enough to extinguish any fight in you?

Disappointing was the only word that went through his mind.

Ah, well. At least it made his choice easy. He'd go with what he'd initially thought of and use you as a way to lure Chrollo. He would decide later whether or not to kill you.

Hisoka stood up and began to walk towards the two of you, which brought Nevin's attention back to him.

“Listen,” Nevin began, “I don't know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave us alone.”

Your companion placed a hand on your shoulder as he continued with “the guy we're going to see isn't someone you want-”

You stabbed him in the eye.

Hisoka had seen it coming. He saw the way you had looked at your friend and how fast you had pulled your hand back out from your bag. He'd seen the pen clenched tightly in your fist and how you aimed for the head, piercing through the side of his eye. He'd seen the cold look in your own eyes when you did all of that.

Yet it still managed to catch him off guard, and Hisoka stared at you in awe as you pulled your hand away and stumbled backward, the pen jutting out of your friend's skull while the blood dripped down his cheek.

A certain sense of exhilaration filled him now as he stared at you; it was the same sense he would get whenever he found a worthwhile opponent. Yet it managed to feel even stronger with you, and all he wanted in that moment was to take you for himself.

Though he wasn't allowed much time to take it all in.

Only a second had passed by before Nevin started screaming at the top of his lungs.

Or rather, he had begun to.

The instant Nevin began to scream, Hisoka activated his ability. With one movement he had covered up Nevin's mouth and nose. His cries of pain could still be heard, but they were now muffled through the layer of Bungee Gum that had now cut off his air. Confused and in pain, Nevin attempted to grab at what he only knew as an invisible force around his face, only to get his hands stuck as well, all the while the pen stuck out of his bloody eye.

The next moments were that of a mad panic: still in pain and without being able to even see what was now suffocating him, Nevin stumbled forward as he began to flail about the train car, pulling himself forward to bash against the walls while the noises coming from his blocked mouth began to sound more like screams that were stuck beneath water. All he was doing was hurting himself, but he likely couldn't feel it in that moment, far too panicked from all that was happening.

Nevin lunged at Hisoka, to which the magician sidestepped him and allowed him to tumble to the floor. The Bungee Gum wrapped around his head now kept him stuck to the smooth surface, and he continued his wailing as he tried to use his feet to scramble back up.

Hisoka turned back to you then.

You looked fearful. There was a disturbed look in your eyes as you saw just how much blood had managed to spatter across the walls during Nevin's rampage, and that disturbed look remained when you looked at him in his current state. Your lack of nen meant you couldn't see Hisoka's ability, and therefore you were just as confused as to what was keeping him stuck like that.

And yet, even though he could spot the fear and even pity in your eyes for your former friend, Hisoka felt certain that he saw a part of you that was satisfied.

That man betrayed you. He deserved it.

Hisoka stepped forward and that was when you looked to him once more. Based on the face you made when you saw him, he must not have been doing a good job at hiding how excited he was, and you quickly turned to open the door behind you and make a break for it.

He followed, slamming the door back open with no thought given to the man who continued to writhe against the floor behind him.

Hisoka wasn't going to let you leave.

You had already reached the door to the outside as you fumbled with the handle. It took half a second for Hisoka to calm himself, and as you were about to pull the exit open, he called to you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

The sound of his voice caused you to stop. Turning to face him, you pressed yourself up against the door as you watched him slowly approach you.

“Well?” Hisoka pressed as he stopped in front of you, asking “where exactly do you think you'll be going from here?”

“….. I don't know,” you answered, “but I can figure out something as long as I leave now.”

Hisoka raised an eyebrow as he asked “and you think that will be enough to get away from Chrollo?”

“He-he doesn't know what's happened, right? And we still have time before we get to Merchester. Enough to give me a head start, at least,” you insisted.

“A head start to where?”

Your mouth opened to answer that question, but then you faltered, remaining silent as your mind struggled to formulate an response.

But what could you even say? What solution could you come up with as the limited amount of time grew smaller and smaller before Chrollo would inevitably confront you and whisk you away once again? Everything about your planned escape had no doubt heavily depended on your friend – what could you do now that you were on your own? Even if you jumped off now and made a run for it, how long would you be able to go on like that before Chrollo found you? And how much worse would it be for you when Chrollo inevitably did find you?

It was hopeless and you knew it.

“Well? What genius plan can you come up with to get away from Chrollo?” Hisoka prodded.

You hung your head in despair as you quietly asked “why are you doing this? Who even are you?”

He laughed.

“I know we didn't speak to one another at Heavens Arena, but with the way you were looking at me earlier I thought you would've remembered me by now.”

“Heavens…..”

Your voice trailed off, and at first, it didn't click for you. Hisoka almost thought he would need to spell it out even further when he saw the realization take over your face, and suddenly you looked even more terrified.

“You're one of them,” you breathed, “you're part of the troupe. Hisoka.”

Hisoka smiled as he said “I'm flattered that you know my name. Did boss tell you?”

“…. I don't understand. Why tell me what was going on and do what you did to Nevin if all you were going to do was hand me off to – oh.”

Your shoulders sank after you cut yourself off and you somehow managed to look even more miserable.

“Oh?” Hisoka repeated.

“This is just you trying to get better standing with Chrollo or something, right? Chrollo never talked about you, but I heard enough from the others to know that not many of them trust you.”

Your expression was bleak again when you said “are you going to tell Chrollo that Nevin was going to betray him and that you stopped in order to earn his trust?”

The bleak look left your face and turned into confusion when Hisoka chuckled.

“That's an interesting thought, but no,” he told you.

“What do you want, then?” you asked.

“What I want, hm?”

The magician stared down at you, and you in turn looked up at him nervously.

“At first I thought I wanted to fight Chrollo,” Hisoka began, “and that I would use you to get to him.”

The way he said he would use you only made you more distressed, but you stayed still where you were, and there was some sense that you knew you wouldn't be able to run from him even if you tried.

You must have learned that the hard way with Chrollo.

And as he thought of the boss, Hisoka's eyes went back to the marks on your neck.

The marks that Chrollo made.

Hisoka wondered what it had been like when Chrollo made those marks on you. Had you fought back and forced him to restrain you as he did what he wanted, or did you lie down and let it happen, having learned that there was no point in struggling against him? How long had you taken whatever he did to you, and what had been your breaking point that forced you to attempt escape?

What made Chrollo choose to do any of this?

For someone as strange as Hisoka admittedly was, he couldn't help but be curious as Chrollo was even more of an enigma of a human being. Things that the troupe stole generally ended up being sold some months after, with Chrollo rarely if ever becoming attached enough to keep anything, only holding onto the items stolen from their heists long enough to appreciate whatever qualities of beauty or value they had. The only thing that seemed to have any true value to him was the troupe itself; anything or anyone outside of that group could and would be easily discarded.

Yet the man wanted to keep you, enough so that he allowed you out for the sole purpose of teaching you the lesson that escaping him was impossible.

What was it about you that he liked? Was it purely a physical attraction or did he like your personality? Maybe it was a combination of the two? How had you come to meet him? Had he taken you forcibly like almost everything else that ended up in his possession? Or had you been tricked with sweet words and the veil lifted once you weren't in a position where you could get away as easily?

What was he going to do to you if he caught up with you?

Hisoka then smirked to himself. That last part didn't matter.

Hisoka saw something in you that he liked, and for that reason, Chrollo wouldn't have you again.

He placed his hands on either side of you while he leaned in, and in that way he kept you caged against the door. As much as you tried to back away into the glass of the window behind you, you had no way of putting any distance between you two. You were stuck with the magician leering down at you.

“But now that I've thought it over,” Hisoka then continued, “I've decided that I'm going to keep you for myself.”

Your expression went from nervous to terrified and you stood there, staring at him in silence.

Hisoka smiled.

“Scared?” he asked.

You nodded slowly.

“You shouldn't be,” he said, moving his hand so he could stroke your cheek. The action made you shudder while he continued.

“I like you, so I'll keep you safe.”

Hearing that did little to please you.

“…. I'd rather you didn't like me,” you whispered.

“Oh? So you want to end up like that one?” Hisoka asked, nodding with his head towards the other car.

You shook your head.

“I just want people like you to leave me alone.”

He smirked as he repeated “people like me?”

“You and Chrollo,” you said, “both of you hurt others for the sake of your own wants and you don't care about the lives you ruin in the process. Just as long as you get what you want, nothing else matters.”

“Ah, is that how you see it?”

“Are you saying I'm wrong?”

Hisoka conceded with a shrug of his shoulders as he replied “no, I can't find any reason to disagree.”

“But I can't find any reason to care, either,” he added, saying “feel free to think whatever you like of me, but it's like you said: as long as I get what I want, I don't care about anything else.”

His hand slid from down your cheek and to your neck, his sharp nails brushing against your skin as he focused on the marks left on your skin, already thinking about the way he would cover them up with his own.

You looked defeated as you asked “it doesn't matter if I try and fight you, does it?”

“It would be a useless endeavor,” Hisoka confirmed, “but if you truly can't stand the thought of being mine, I'll let you go. Though my question from earlier still stands.”

That was a lie. He wouldn't let you go no matter what you chose.

But pushing you to pick him was fun in it's own way.

You remained quiet, and Hisoka prodded you again as he said “it's your choice: you can try to escape on your own and inevitably end up back with Chrollo, or you do as I say, and I'll see to it that you have an easier time.”

You began to tremble as you stared at nothing in front of you.

Then Hisoka watched as your hand went to grasp at your arm. The same arm he'd seen in the sling that first time he'd met you. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you were no doubt remembering something unpleasant.

“He broke your arm, didn't he?” Hisoka asked, “when I saw you that time in the elevator, you were being led away for a further punishment, weren't you? After going through that, what do you think he'll do once he has his hands on you again?”

The way you bit your lip had him believing that he was right.

Then you shook your head.

“He didn't break it,” you answered softly.

“Oh? Who did?”

“The…. The black haired one, with glasses. Shizuku.”

Hisoka hummed as he asked “and what exactly happened that resulted in her breaking your arm?”

“….. The window was open and I….. I tried to push her out of it.”

The grip on your arm became tighter when you added “I was too slow and she grabbed me too hard.”

“What did she do to you?” Hisoka asked.

“Nothing. She hadn't even spoken to me. But…..”

He raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging you to continue.

“….. It's not easy to hurt Chrollo,” you began, “he doesn't care if I destroy his things, and he's too strong for me to do anything to him physically. Even if I tell him every day that I hate him and that I actively wish for someone will tear him limb from limb, it doesn't phase him.”

“But he cares about the troupe. He cares about their well-being, and even if he tries to hide it, you can tell that he's upset whenever something happens to one of them,” you continued, “on that day, when I saw her standing next to the window on a floor that high up…… All I saw was my chance to hurt him. That I could make him finally regret all he'd done to me once he saw her splattered on the ground.”

The memory was replaying itself in your head. And as Hisoka gazed into your eyes that currently had a far-off look to them while you relived that memory, he caught a glimpse of bloodlust within them, one that was similar to the look in your eyes when you had stabbed Nevin only minutes ago. An urge to kill that he was intimately familiar with but was still so new to you as that feeling didn't last long within you. Your brows furrowed and your gaze became more pained while you kept your grip on your arm.

Despite all that had been done to you, you still felt guilt for trying to kill someone, even if it was someone who had hurt you.

But the fact that you'd been driven to such lengths was impressive to him.

He wished he could've been there, present in that room and able to watch for the moment where you caught sight of Shizuku innocently standing by the window and your morals were tossed to the side. He wondered if the expression on your face when you decided that you wanted to end her life was similar to what he had seen earlier: cold and unfeeling. Or had your expression been one of rage? Of the quiet individual who had been pushed too far for too long? Or were you panicking when you rushed towards her, looking ready to cry as you tried to commit an act that at the time was unthinkable for you?

“Tell me,” he said then, “what did Chrollo do to you after that?”

“…… It was a long time before I got to see sunlight again,” you mumbled. You didn't offer any more information than that.

“The fact that Chrollo let you live after you tried to kill one of the troupe is a miracle in of itself,” Hisoka told you, “he must truly love you to keep you even after that.”

“…. I don't want him to love me.”

“Well, you don't have much choice in that, do you?”

There wasn't any response you could give to that, and you bit your lip in frustration. You were crying now while your hand continued to squeeze at your arm. Whatever would happen once you were back with Chrollo would be bad. That you had continued to defy him by running after the punishment you received for the stunt with Shizuku meant that Chrollo's methods weren't effective enough. Hisoka idly wondered if Chrollo had wanted to give you the opportunity to get into contact with your friend as a way to test you, or if you managing to make contact was an oversight on his part.

Though just like before, it didn't matter.

Hisoka hadn't checked his phone in some time, but a considerable amount of time had passed since he had last looked. There could only be thirty minutes left until the train reached Merchester at most. Either you were going to agree to go with him or he would knock you out and take you.

It seemed as though you sensed the time limit as well as you finally spoke up to ask one last question.

“You won't hurt me?”

Your voice sounded far weaker than he'd ever heard it, and you wavered halfway through the question while tears continued to run down your cheeks.

He reached up to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I can't promise no pain,” he began, “but I can assure you that I will never hurt you on purpose.”

You were frowning at that, but the way you averted your eyes as you turned your head down seemed to indicate that you knew even that was better than going back to your previous captor.

He grinned when you made your choice.

“Okay.”

Hisoka grabbed you by the hand and pulled you away from the door, opening it without any hesitation. The noise from the wind and the wheels on the tracks were overwhelming as the two of you stepped out onto the small platform at the back, and despite your apprehension in regards to him, you clutched at the hand that held yours anyway as you looked out at the tracks beneath you and the darkened night beyond.

You were so desperate to get away from Chrollo that you would do anything and turn to anyone to achieve that goal. Even if it meant turning to someone like Hisoka for help. Even if it meant committing heinous acts yourself. As much as you wanted to admonish Hisoka and Chrollo for the way their actions, you must have realized that you were beginning to imitate them in that sense. That you were determined to get what you wanted even if it meant hurting other people.

Perhaps some of your misery came in realizing that fact.

The magician then remembered one last thing he needed to do before the two of you left, and he let go of your hand in favor of patting you on the cheek as he told you to wait for him. The noise outside made it hard to hear, but you seemed to understand him.

He was pleased when he went back inside the train and saw that you did as you were told.

The disappointment he had felt from earlier in the day was long-since forgotten, and now Hisoka counted himself lucky that he had stumbled onto you, and all of it was because of random chance that had him in the right place at the right time to hear the exact information he needed in order to make you his.

Chrollo stared out at the tracks, his eyes following along the long metal lines until they became impossible to see. A fog had fallen since the train had pulled into the station, and the flashing lights of the police cars behind him illuminated it, switching the gray of the night into blue and red in rapid succession.

Beyond the fog and the tracks was darkness.

And beyond that, somewhere, was you.

Chrollo began to walk towards the tracks, away from the crime scene you had left behind. He had seen it already. After the train staff had called for help but before the police had arrived, Chrollo had no issue getting on board and using one of his abilities to keep the staff out of his way as he looked over the body that had been discovered in the baggage compartment.

He wasn't truly surprised at the scene, and yet he did need to admit that it was bloodier than he had anticipated. The struggle that had occurred there had left bloodstains strewn about the walls and the floor, and all of it led to the body at the center of the car. Nevin's body was instantly recognizable, as was the pen that had been sticking out of his eye socket, one that Chrollo recognized as being in your possession.

As expected, once he saw that your friend was dead, there was no sign of you anywhere. Upon entering the very last car, Chrollo's gaze had gone to the door that led to the outside, and it was easy to imagine you climbing over the railing at the back and jumping off before you disappeared into the night.

When the police sirens were close enough to be heard in the distance, Chrollo left, though not before collecting the cellphone Nevin had used to frequently contact him from before.

But it had been then that he saw something that made him pause.

Chrollo continued to walk as he thought on it: one of Nevin's hands was more damaged than the other, to the point that the skin at the tips of his fingers and a few of his fingernails were missing. They'd been torn off, to be exact, as Chrollo noticed them soon after on the other side of Nevin's head. Imprints of his bloody fingers could be seen not far from where he had been laying, as though he'd been trying to pull himself up. The dark marks left on the floor from his shoes also indicated as such.

How had you killed him for that to be the end result?

Had you even killed him?

Chrollo had seen first hand that you could be driven to unexpected lengths when you were pushed far enough, and the pen that had been left behind was definitely yours.

But something about the scene didn't feel right. The torn flesh of the fingers didn't make sense, and neither did the fact that there was little if any blood in the last train car. If you had killed Nevin in a violent struggle, there would have been signs of your escape in the form of a bloody shoe print or perhaps some injuries of your own. That there was nothing back there made no sense.

What had happened there?

While the theories on potential scenarios ran through his mind, it was impossible to tell with such little information.

And so the bad feeling stuck with him.

The bad feeling would grow shortly after, when he would discover that even his furthest reaching abilities couldn't locate you. And even later when some of the troupe would lend their assistance in locating you, the belief being that you couldn't have gone far – you had left the jenny in your friend's wallet behind and you didn't know the area. Yet there was no sign of you.

The bad feeling would become worse later on still when Chrollo would learn the results of Nevin's autopsy report and find that the man had died from asphyxiation, and he would be forced to again wonder what exactly had gone on in that car between the two of you. There was nothing found within the car that had been used as the murder weapon, and even if there had been, it still didn't explain the torn skin of his fingers.

More possibilities came to mind, more thoughts on who or what had killed your friend as he felt more and more certain that you hadn't been behind that.

Which meant that another, unknown party had inexplicably become involved. And the grim days would continue to pass for Chrollo as he searched for you, who seemed to have been plucked off the face of the earth.

But for now, in the middle of that foggy night while he walked along the tracks, the bad feeling remained relatively minor within him.

As he continued along his way, he looked out into the distance beyond the fog as he frowned to himself.

“Love,” Chrollo said aloud, “just what have you gotten yourself into now?”

#yandere hxh #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #hxh hisoka #hisoka morow x reader #hisoka morow #chrollo x reader #yandere #hxh x reader

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saetoru · 1 year ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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0097linersb · 4 months ago

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Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

#yunho #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #ateez smut #yunho scenarios #yunho fic #yunho fanfic

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cosmicanakin · 1 month ago

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kari yaps. giving yall an angsty dean blurb that i couldn't get out of my head <3 miss my baby smookums s'much.

📖 JACKLES library.

it wasn't supposed to be like this with dean. casual was what you both strictly agreed on — no strings attached, no feelings involved. just two hunters finding respite in each other whenever paths crossed. that was the deal.

but here you are, straddling him in another stuffy motel room, his calloused hands gripping your hips as you ride him slowly. the dim lamplight casts shadows across his freckled face, highlighting every expression of pleasure that crosses his features. dean's breathing is ragged, green eyes half-lidded as he watches you move above him.

you lean down, pressing your palms against his rough ones, intertwining your fingers together. the new angle makes him groan, head throwing back against the pillow. his grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the trembling in his muscles as he fights to maintain control.

"fuck," he breathes out, voice wrecked. "you feel so good, sweetheart. s'perfect..."

you increase your pace slightly, watching as he falls apart underneath you. DEAN WINCHESTER — the notorious hunter, the man who's faced down demons and monsters — coming undone by your touch alone. his walls are down completely, vulnerability written across his face in a way you've never seen before.

that's when it happens.

"i love you," he gasps out, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them.

you freeze mid-movement, staring down at him with wide eyes. the confession hangs heavy in the air between you, and you watch as realization dawns on his face. dean's hands suddenly release yours, gripping the cheap motel sheets instead, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

"what?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

he won't meet your eyes anymore, jaw clenched tight as he stares at some point over your shoulder. the silence stretches on, broken only by your shared breathing and the distant sound of traffic outside. you're still connected intimately, but the moment has shifted into something else entirely — something neither of you were prepared for.

without warning, his hands move to your waist. those strong arms that you've admired countless times before easily lift you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. you watch as he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled spiky hair before reaching down to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.

"dean, hold up—" you start, but he's already heading for the bathroom, not looking back as he closes the door with a soft click.

you lie there in the silence, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. your mind replays his words over and over, trying to make sense of what just happened. dean winchester loves you.

DEAN WINCHESTER — who keeps everyone at arm's length, who builds walls higher than heaven itself — just confessed his love for you in the most vulnerable moment possible.

and you? you don't know what to feel. this wasn't part of the plan. feelings weren't supposed to enter the equation, but here they are, complicated and messy and real.

you can hear him moving around in the bathroom, probably trying to compose himself. knowing dean, he's probably gripping the sink, staring at his reflection, and beating himself up over his slip of the tongue. that's just who he is — taking every perceived failure and turning it into self-loathing.

the thought of facing this conversation, of dealing with the aftermath of those three beautiful words, suddenly feels overwhelming. you slip out of the bed, quickly gathering your scattered clothes and pulling them on. your hands are shaking slightly as you find a piece of paper and pen from the motel's complimentary notepad.

that's all you write before placing it on the rumpled bed. it's cowardly, you know it is, but you can't face him right now. not when everything is so confused and tangled in your mind.

you're just closing the motel room door when you hear the bathroom door open. you don't stay to see his reaction, but you can picture it perfectly — dean walking out, preparing himself to bare his soul to you, only to find an empty room and a note in your place.

you know it'll hurt him. know that he'll blame himself, add it to the long list of things he carries on his shoulders. but you can't give him what he wants right now, can't pretend those words didn't change everything.

as you walk to your car, you can almost hear him in that room — probably throwing something in frustration, cursing himself for ruining what you had. classic dean winchester, turning his pain inward, letting it eat at him.

but sometimes running is easier than staying, even when you know it'll leave scars on both of you that might never fully heal.

#꣑୧ writings.#dean winchester #dean winchester blurb #dean x female!reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x fem reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean angst #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #dean smut #dean imagine #dean x you #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x female reader

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bahablastplz · 9 months ago

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Roommate: Chan x Reader

Roommate Chan who wants to help you destress with a massage after a long day... Content: Just straight-up smut Warnings: Fingering, praise, degradation, a little humiliation WC: 1100

You were laying on the couch with Chan.

Chan has been your roommate for some time and your friend for longer than you could remember, so to be sprawled across the couch, limbs somewhat intertwined and a movie to be played in the background was nothing unfamiliar. Especially after a long day at work, taking the time to unwind together was nothing new.

But today you were just so tense. Stiff all over, muscles tense and sore, you were unable to find relief. You suppose that your gym workout from yesterday had been a little intense, and you were certainly feeling it now.

Subconsciously as you watched, you started to punch your legs a little bit, trying to get the tightened muscles to relax.

Chan’s hands shot out and grabbed your own, making you freeze.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” He sounded concerned but the nickname made sparks fly through your body.

“Nothing,” you say, trying to explain it away. Of course, Chan would never let that happen.

He doesn’t let go of his grasp on your hand. “You call punching your legs ‘nothing?’” He inquires.

“My legs are just a little sore,” you sigh. “It was leg day yesterday.”

“Ahhh,” he says, as if that explains everything. Maybe it did. His eyes are back on the screen, but his hands are grabbing your legs to place them over his lap, pulling you even closer to him.

“What are you–”

“Shhh, helping,” he says. His big, strong hands are on your legs now, his dexterous fingers working into your muscles. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him working away the tension, his thumbs moving over your thighs to rub deep yet gentle circles into your skin. You’re aware of every movement, however, and you hate how flustered his actions have you. Chan never shied away from physical touch, and he’s even given you a brief platonic shoulder massage before. As your roommate, of course he’s seen you in more vulnerable scenarios, seeing into the more casual or intimate aspects of your life, but this… you couldn’t help but stare at the man who seemed so unfazed.

As he rubs into a particularly sore area, you let out a tiny groan.

“Feels good?” he asks, a small smirk splaying across his features but his eyes glued to the screen.

You nod your head. The tone of his voice has arousal running through your entire body and your breath hitches as he moves higher, still only mid-thigh. You hope he doesn’t catch your reaction–surely he won’t, he’s not even watching you.

Lightly he slaps the inside of your thigh, causing you to gasp. “Use your words,” he scolds.

“Yes,” you answer, too fast. “Feels good, Chan.”

“Good girl,” he praises, though the way he coos the words makes it feel less like a compliment. Your eyes stay glued to him and the way he stays unaffected; his words make you squeeze your thighs together lightly, searching for a little relief. What you weren’t expecting was for him to grab the flesh of your thigh hard between his fingers, causing you to let out a moan.

“Such a filthy girl,” he says. “Here I am trying to give you a massage and make you feel good but you’re over here having dirty thoughts, aren’t you?” His hand stays between your legs, rubbing your inner thigh but not making its way higher. You squeeze your legs harder, trapping his hand between your legs.

“Need you, Chan. Touch me, please?” You decide to just say it, just needing to get past the hurdle knowing it will be worth it. He doesn’t let up as easily as you think though.

“Oh? But I am touching you, sweet girl,” he says, pinching your inner thigh and causing you to spread them open for him. “Or are you talking about your needy pussy?” He trails his hand up, resting it against your clothed core. You nod your head unabashedly and he laughs at your excitement. His eyes are on you now, finally, and you burn under his gaze. You watch as he pushes the fabric to the side and dips his fingers shallowly into your entrance, gathering your arousal on his fingers. He pulls out to show you how soaked his fingers are.

“Look how wet you are for me, baby,” he praises. “My sweet, dirty girl is so needy for me, all from a little touching.”

“Just for you,” you confirm, and you watch him take a deep breath, affected by your words. Sliding his hands back down to your center, he gathers more of your arousal and spreads it around your clit, circling slowly around the area with his fingers. It’s obvious from his stare that he is more than alright with taking his time with you, relishing in the way that you fall apart on his fingers. He hisses when you spread your legs open wide for him, giving him full access. He moves fast, grabbing your shorts and ripping them off of your body. When you close your legs again he tuts, grabbing them and forcing them wide open for him, slotting his body in between your legs.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He slides two fingers into your entrance now, shallowly fucking his fingers in and out of you. “Such a slutty pussy, for me.” You relinquish control and let him take over, submitting to the urge to arch your back and let out a loud moan. He continues to babble about how he can’t believe he’s waited for so long to have you like this, how he’s been thinking of touching your pussy for so long, and you start to tremble beneath him.

“Chan,” you say, trying to warn the man, but he shushes you.

“I got you,” he says. He shoves his fingers into you deeper but doesn’t change his pace, curling his fingers. “Let go for me.” That’s all you need to find your release, completely coming apart for him on his fingers. He sweet talks you right through your orgasm, slowing his movements.

You watch as he pulls his fingers out of you, looking deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers into his mouth and sucks. “So sweet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He reaches over your body for the remote, clicking the power button and turning off the device. The action makes you laugh.

“What?” he laughs with you. “Don’t act like you were actually watching that, I definitely wasn’t.” You scoff at his words and screech as he picks you up, cradling you into his chest.

“Your room or mine?” ***

Author's note: Sorry not sorry for the double Chan post, he is my bias though so don't be surprised...

Masterlist Recs

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cherubfae · 10 months ago

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𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔥𝔯𝔲𝔫𝔨! || {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}

tags: gn!reader, ftm!reader for angie, fluff, comedy, established relationships

Alastor

He is quite amused by the whole ordeal, if not a touch worried for your wellbeing. You're utterly tiny, capable of sitting in the palm of his hand like a tiny doll. His claw gently nudges your cheek, tilting your chin up. Using his own magic proves to be futile. After several attempts he's still unable to change you back to your normal self. He isn't sure why his powers don't seem to be taking effect.

Alastor doesn't let anyone else touch or hold you. Legit will hold you in his hand above his head should Vaggie or Charlie try to get a better look at you.

"No, no, no," Alastor clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable in letting my dearest love be held by anyone but me. Surely, you understand." He gives you a little smile, his thumb gently stroking your head.

You aren't a little toy and the last thing he wants happening if Niffty mistaking you for a roach, so he prefers to have you sitting atop his shoulder, his head, or safely tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat with your tiny little head poking out to watch the world around you. As much as he finds you adorable and vulnerable in this state, he does prefer you as yourself. He'll probably head to Rosie first, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer. She always has her ear to the ground and he's certain he'll get you returned to normal soon.

Lucifer

Well, that's new. Lucifer is easily able to turn you back to yourself but he wants to have a little fun first. He lifts you up and presses little kisses all over your face, giggling to himself when you press your hands to his rosy cheeks.

"Can't help it, sweetheart! You're too cute!" He gently nuzzles your cheek, placing a loving kiss to the top of your head. He'll shapeshift himself into a mouse and pretend that you're a little fairy about to battle for Narnia.

When he finally turns you back, he is relieved. He much prefers you as your lovely self where you're able to snuggle into his side and hold you properly to his chest, sharing many kisses between you two.

Husk

Shit, this ain't good, but at least yer havin' fun, baby. Husk sighs, leaning his chin against his paws. His yellow eyes flick back and forth in amusement as you treat the bar counter like your own slip-and-slide, watching as you spin around on the shiny wood with a small squeak.

Husk catches you with his tail before you can slide off, lightly placing you back on your feet mirroring the grin you give him. "I'm glad you're having a good time but we gotta figure out how to turn ya back, hun." He leans back against the stool, hoping Charlie has found something or someone who may be able to offer some help.

Charlie, on queue, comes rushing down the stairs holding a light pink pearlescent vial in her hands. "Let's try this!" She stands triumphantly, proudly holding out the vial in her hands. "A drop or two on their head should bring them back to normal height. I have a feeling this will work, but as Plan B we can go to my Dad!" She beams.

Husk nods, giving you a tiny peck on top of your head that only serves to make Charlie coo. Placing you on the floor, Charlie uncaps the vial. A shimmery fuschia-purple liquid smelling of sweet berries oozes out and gently drops onto your head.

A whoosh of pink and yellow unfurls out and soon you're standing before them as mostly yourself. Your hair is now a dyed vibrant pink. Across the room, Alastor who is casually reading the newspaper, snaps his fingers and poof! Your hair is back to normal!

"You could've helped them this whole time?!" Husk hisses, fur bristling. Alastor hums, taking a sip of his black coffee, "Hmm no, just their hair. Good thing they're back in one piece, yes?" He grins. "Too bad you didn't play a little cat and mouse with them. That would have been a sight to behold!"

Angel Dust

As adorable as you are, Angel is fuckin panicking. He's not quite sure what to do and he's terrified of someone accidentally stepping on you. "Okay, baby, I've got ya, hang on!" Angel places you on his chest fluff, his hand holding you in place. Upon returning to his room, Angel begins to pace, wracking his brain for some sort of quick fix.

Depending on how long this magic lasts, Angel will 100% want to play dress up with you and have you try on cute outfits or perhaps make a cute little dollhouse for you. He's too scared of crushing you in his sleep so until this wears off, he doesn't want to risk anything happening to you. He's also worried about Niffty mistaking you for a bug, so when he's out and about, he keeps you close to him at all times. If he has to leave and can't take you with, he instructs Vaggie and Charlie to look after you.

"Do not let Niffty or the Egg Bois around them, got it?" His stern eyes are narrowed, making an expression that he's watching Sir Pentious. "Keep the Eggies in line."

Vox

What the fuck? He blinks, a jolt of electricity nearly short-circuiting himself. "Babe, what the fuck happened to you?" Vox scoops you into his hands, holding you to his chest. He's doing his best not to panic, convinced this is another one of Alastor's stupid fucking pranks. (Alastor has done absolutely nothing. However, Vox swears any inconvenience that happens to him is caused by Alastor's hands.)

Thankfully whatever has happened wasn't permanent. A tiny explosion of sparkles and a poof blue dust has the futuristic demon stumbling back, sighing when you're standing there at your normal height with a hand pressed to your head.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Vox presses, grasping your hand and pulling you into his lap. He's cupping your face between clawed hands checking for any sign of injury. "Was it Alastor?" You shake your head, coughing out some blue sparkly dust.

"Nah, got caught under some pollen demon's magic on my way to HQ." You grumble, leaning your head onto your boyfriend's shoulder. Vox sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Ok, ok, well, you're back," he grumbles. "Don't do that to me again."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader

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buckets-and-trees · 6 months ago

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When He First Got Me

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing...

Content/Warnings: explicit smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, rough sex, emotional unavailability, a broken Nomad who thinks he's fine but definitely is not

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone prequel. A little something for Steve's birthday weekend... This will be a bit of a darker indulgence for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar challenge: mint chocolate chip (involving a loner), sprinkles (birthday and 4th of July), cherries (meet-cute), and we'll even say some caramel (because Steve is not quite in a great headspace if we're being honest). AND I'm entering this for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer writing challenge: carnival/fair, slight stalker (but not fully), and I bolded the dialogue prompt that I used.

Steve didn’t feel like he could breathe easily, but he did feel like he could breathe here. Nothing like New York or DC. A place small enough not to be noticed but big enough to blend in without drawing attention as a stranger.

Being invisible somewhere had been easier than carving out the opportunity to do so solo over the 4th of July – less because it was America’s Birthday and more because it was his. Steve had suggested Wanda finally reconnect with Vision (they’d been on the run long enough, it should be safe for her to reach out and discreetly stay off the grid). The case he made to Sam was that he’d been on the run for over a year, and the 4th was less expected for a sentimental return to stop in on family but would still afford a holiday’s community celebrations and to give him reasonable cover to slip in and out. Nat hadn’t needed convincing. She saw, asked if he was sure, but understood without him needing to explain, and said she had things of her own that she’d take care of.

He just didn’t want any of the fuss of them trying to make him feel better on his birthday.

Steve was sitting on a shaded grassy knoll in the city park, hundreds of people around him, all weaving in and out of booths with games, vendors, and food, a vibrant temporary set up for a few days around the 4th, and on the far side of the park the sounds of carnival rides underscored it all.

He hadn’t come to this place to find someone.

But the moment he first noticed you, the plans started forming in his head before he could stop them.

And why should he stop them?

As he alternated between sketching in his notebook and people-watching, people watching turned into watching only you – you wandering this place clearly alone. Must be on your own in this city.

It would be so easy to harmlessly bump into you.

So he did.

When you recognized him, he could easily use the moment to draw you into keeping his presence in such a public place secret, getting you to trust him by him “trusting you” with his secret.

And he did.

He could easily ask if there were any good places to eat in town, then ask if you would join him.

He did, and you did.

After walking you home, it would be so easy to get you to invite him in, an afternoon and evening of conversation, compounding moments, and more and more casual touches on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, the back of your hand, having your body attune to him.

And it worked.

You hesitated, but invite him in you did.

And he tried for a moment to convince himself that being invited in had been all he wanted – to be someplace that wasn’t a stolen moment or a hotel room or a safe house that itself wasn’t very safe, just to be someplace private, someplace normal, someplace that felt like home.

But that was not the only thing he wanted.

And why shouldn’t he take the rest of what he wanted? After everything, didn’t he deserve it?

You didn’t notice that he locked the door behind him. You’d been apologizing for the state of your place, though after a quick glance around, he assured you it only looked lived in, not a mess.

Not like the mess he was so eager to make you into beneath him.

After insisting you didn’t need to get anything for him, he sat on your couch. He told you how nice it was just to sit there, nowhere to be, no reason to hide, how tired he was of running. You listened; you soothed him. He leaned in and kissed you.

You kissed him back.

All he did was kiss you until you leaned back on the couch and urged him along with you.

He let his chest press into your deliciously soft body. He groaned into the kiss, and you opened your mouth to his. This kisss grew in fervor, tongues exploring and tangling with each other. His hand ran up and down your thigh, slowly coaxing you to hitch it up around his waist. You moaned when he ground gently against your core – gentle only to test the waters. His need was mounting exponentially, and he knew the damn would break soon. He intended to let it.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your shoulder, kissing there before teasing his lips and teeth and tongue along your collar bone to the sensitive point of your neck. You sighed in bliss, and he moved his hand back up your thigh, over your hip, across your stomach, undid the top button he found there, and started to reach into your jeans.

Your breath hitched, and your hands flew to his.

“Steve, wait,” you said.

But you didn’t say stop.

He waited.

He could hear the wild racing of your heart beneath him.

The pressure of your hands on his body didn’t change, no part of you shifted to move away. Your eyes closed, the only sign of your reticence were your teeth worrying your bottom lip.

Steve slid his hand down to cup your pussy and his fingers found the wetness growing there that he expected. You let out a shuddering breath as his fingers worked your labia, but he didn’t linger there. He pulled his fingers out and then pushed them into your mouth.

“Neither of us wants to wait,” he snarled as you licked your slick from the pads of his fingers. “And it’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Super soldier serum running through his veins, Steve picked you up with ease, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, while he held one of your thighs and pressed his other hand at the base of your spine, pinning you securely to him while he captured your lips to kiss you again.

He easily found your bedroom, and he lowered you to the bed in a kneeling position. He didn’t relent in his kissing, devouring you, demanding your supplication. He only broke off the kiss once you were breathless, moaning, and pulling at his clothes. Then he stepped back and told you to undress. Steve quicky removed all his own clothing while keeping his eyes on you. You only removed your shirt and jeans, leaving you in your underwear, but he could work with that for now. He’d have you willing to shed the rest soon enough.

Steve got up on the bed with you, pleased that he could see your eyes darkening with the lust and the want. He recognized exactly the kind of want he was dealing with – it was how he imagined he would have behaved before living the harsh life of denial he’d lived while exiled and on the run for the past year. The old him would have wanted but been hesitant, gone slow, paid attention to more of the dance before even getting into bed.

He didn’t have the luxury of time or the patience for that.

He only had an insatiable need that he’d pushed down and ignored – ignored for years even before becoming Nomad. He’d denied himself so many things, sacrificed for others, for missions, too many legitimate and imagined reasons holding him back.

He wouldn’t hold back now.

But he would coax you into needing him as much as he needed you.

You only glanced at his naked groin with a moment of hesitance as he pulled you into his lap, but you still let him. He resumed your kissing, and you were quick to continue making out with him. He allowed you take the reins to steer the kissing, letting you lap up at the pace you wanted. He let his hands roam over your back as he eased you along, seemingly unhurried. But his hands soon made their way to your hips, and he secured his grip there and began grinding you down against his hard cock. He moaned unabashedly into your mouth as he adjusted the angle of your hips and continued rocking your core against him.

He was insistent on torturing you where your most intimate parts met until, clinging to his shoulders, you threw your head back, gasped for air.

“Steve,” you keened his name, clearly in the early stages of sweet ruin that he wanted.

He smirked against your neck and laid you down on your back with deceptive sweetness. He kissed slowly down your chest, between your breasts, down over your belly button. His fingers hooked into the top of your panties just as his lips arrived at the top of that fabric, and he peeled them down and fully off your legs. Your fingers worked anxiously over the sheets beneath you as he made you wait for him to touch you more.

His hands opened your legs back up, pushing at your knees to splay you open like a butterfly beneath his attention.

He worked both of his thumbs up and down over your labia, smearing your cunt with your juices, studying what he was about to claim and ruin. Then he looked up at your face and said, “This is mine now, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” your voice was soft, nervous, but also eager.

It hadn’t actually been a question, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

The only question was how he wanted to take you first.

Since he planned on taking you in every way, he went with the most convenient first, easing his cock into you slowly, but with no apologies for how thick he was, pressing into you despite the resistance – not that of a virgin, but of a cunt that had never taken a cock so big before. You cried out – but he knew the tone of it was pain drenched with bliss, he could hear it. What’s more, when he was fully sheathed inside you, he waited, unmoving. He watched your chest rise and fall with a few breaths. When you finally shifted your hips against his, he knew he had won. You wanted more. The beast inside of him surged in satisfaction, and then he began to aggressively thrust in and out of your tight channel.

He leaned forward, and your knees hitched up around his waist to urge him on. You clawed at his back, and when he reached between your bodies and found your swollen clit, he rubbed furious circles over it until he was rewarded with the clenching of your cunt around him, the seizing up of every muscle in your body, as he delivered your first orgasm of the night.

He continued pumping in and out of your spasming cunt until he was right at the edge, then pulled out and fisted his cock with only two more strokes before releasing hot ribbons of cum over your stomach.

Your fingers inched hesitantly toward the mess, and he put his hand over yours and pushed your fingers and his through the mess, pressing it into your skin. Then he moved your hands away and lowered his body down onto yours, the sticky spend between your skin and his there.

“I…” you started, but then paused.

He slipped his other hand beneath your head, cradling it in his palm. “Mmm?” he hummed against the spot behind your ear.

“I’m clean and have an IUD.”

He groaned and nipped at your neck. “You want me to continue to fuck you more. You want me to cum inside you.”

“Yes, Steve,” you simpered.

“Mmm, such a good girl,” he pressed a hot kiss against your neck, then rolled off being on top of you, and to his side next to you. “Best give you what we both want, then,” he said as he turned you onto your side, back pressed to his chest, and felt below to press his dick into your hole again.

Hours later when its far past midnight, you’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

But when he slipped back onto your bed after taking a piss, you scooted your body in next to him, put your hand on his chest, and muttered the sleepiest, “Happy birthday,” to him he’d ever heard. He almost wondered how you knew switching from the third to the fourth meant it was his day, but then he remembered the time when seemingly everyone knew it was Cap’s birthday.

While he wasn’t Cap anymore, it still struck something in him and made his chest warm.

But he didn’t feel like you would make a big deal out of it or make him feel bad and that maybe it would be nice to be with someone on his birthday, so he decided to stay. He told himself it was to be distracted chasing more bliss with your body. He ignored the other thoughts working through his mind. He only wanted – only needed – the distraction. Nothing else.

NEXT: July 4, 2017. read more Exiled Nomad Series

I'M GLAD Steve's POV won in the poll I ran earlier this week... clearly since I made the poll my muse was leaning heavy towards it anyway, but this was certainly illuminating to see more of where Steve's head is at in this ... situationship.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #nomad steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #nomad steve x reader #slashersummerwc #sundae bar #female reader #aspen wrote something #exiled nomad series

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biteyoubiteme · 30 days ago

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thicc thigh obsessed gyu 😵‍💫 he loves how squishy and plush they are, touches them all the time, rests his head, inner thigh kisses and wearing pretty thigh highs and stockings has him hard and drooling

beomgyu x thighs

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! chubby reader implied, thigh fucking, marking, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.6k

an: okay I want to say I love that you sent me this and it was stuck in my head forever and im just now answering it but omfg- gyu IS A THIGH LOVER I'll take it to the grave/ die on that hill bc YES. and specifically the gyu I wrote in bubblegum flavored- so if you see beomiebear mentioned here thats why bc it’s so him coded pls I love it thank you for this. [m.list]

He would so buy you thigh highs, little sets of garter belts that clip to the top of them. He loves the marks it leaves on your thighs if you’ve been lying down with them on. Likes to snap the bands to make you jump. He loves when you’re in a skirt, and loves it even more when you wear tights, he ruins every pair you’ve ever had and loves to rip them just enough to suck hickeys on your inner thigh. Will take the time to suck them Into the shape of a heart, spending as much time between your legs as possible. Gets you fishnets a size too small, still stretchy enough to feel comfortable but tight enough to let your skin dimple, the marks left after you've taken them off turning him on just as much.

He loves it when he lays on your plush thighs and you play with his hair. Loves it more when you wear thighs highs when he does it, finger tucked under the elastic, running back and forth. Loves when you sit and it makes a little roll right where the end is, peppers kisses all along the seam. Will use his teeth to pull them down enough to kiss the indents on your skin.

Insatiable when you casually walk in wearing anything that highlights your thighs. But it’s always the first thing he notices anyway. You could be spending dinner with all your friends and he’s got his hand shoved between your thighs under the table, not necessarily touching you but just resting his hand between your legs for the comfort.

Gets you specific stockings to wear during sex, the lace lining on top the perfect spot for him to kiss along. The sheer gauzy fabric is just the right texture for him to run his teeth over while he looks up at you from his knees. dons so many kisses to your lower half you have to remind him your mouth exists, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “beomie if you’re good I’ll let you fuck them,”

and he’s putty in your hands, his weakness so easily exploited when it came to you. Because he loved to push his cock between your plushy thighs. His hands holding your squishy flesh hard enough to leave red hand prints all over.

Laying you back against the mattress and lifting your legs up, pushed together and slathered with lube, your ankles over his shoulder, arms wrapped around your knees as he pushes his cock in and out between your thighs.

He’s a whiny mess kissing at your legs, begging for release as you squeeze your legs together for him. You watch the way the tip of cock pokes through the seam of your legs with every thrust. His hair in his eyes as he loses himself, “Oh god- you feel so perfect-“ his fingers digging in harder as he orgasm gets closer, and watching the way you look laid out before him, your body reverberating with every hash slap of him against you.

He always cums so much when fucking your thighs, the hot streams pulsing out and coating your stomach. cock jerking as he gives lazy thrusts, his whimpers so sweet to your ears as you praise him, “You came so good for me beomiebear, if you clean me up I’ll let you go another round,” and he will comply licking you clean and burying himself between your legs to properly devour your wetness; a reward within this request itself just before he’s hard again and ready to do it all over.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

#cam!answersasks #cams!hardhours #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #txt x reader #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

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cazshmere · 6 months ago

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Astrology Observations Pt. 1

materialist🔖

🌷 aries/scorpio in the 2nd house could be prone to acne at least once in their life or their faces get red very easily ❤️

🌷 whenever I hear someone talking about how integral having passion is, I know for sure they have at least one scorpio placement😭❤️‍🔥

🌷 leo venus peeps 🤝🏻 giving the most personalised, thoughtful, tailor made gifts 🎁

🌷 men with taurus/pisces moon/venus placements (with positive aspects) will treat you like a goddess no matter what, queen treatment right here 👑🫶🏻

🌷 12th house synastry is NO JOKE ong. You could have entirely moved on with your life but then suddenly you’d have a dream with them in it and then BOOM you can’t get them out of your mind after that 💤

🌷 starting a new relationship during venus retrograde is a 100000% karmic relationship. The relationship will surely be triggering and might fizzle out really quickly 💔

🌷 your 11th house could show your fs love language because in derivative astrology the 11th house is the 5th house (casual dating) from the 7th house (spouse). For instance, capricorn in the 11th house could mean your spouse’s love language is probably quality time and acts of service, 11th house in scorpio could mean your spouse’s love languages is physical touch, gemini in the 11th house could mean your spouse’s love language is words of affirmation, leo in the 11th house could indicate your spouse’s love language is gift giving/physical touch or quality time 🩵🤍

🌷 cancer in the 5th/7th house 🤝🏻 your momma being heavily involved in the choices you make around your love life 🤱🏻👩🏼‍🤝‍👩🏽

🌷I have a feeling venus/mercury or even saturn in the 3rd house (positive aspects mainly) can make someone very skilled at palmistry if they’re planning on doing it 🤲🏼🪬

🌷 something I’ve noticed is that martian placements (aries and scorpio) LOVE hot showers or just enjoy taking a bath in hot water rather than cold water. So I had a question for the venusian placements(taurus and libra), do y’all prefer taking cold showers rather than hot? 🫧🛁

Please do not copy or steal any of my work <3. These are just personal observations so don’t take any of them too seriously 🧿😙♥️.

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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

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aemndxx · 9 months ago

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𝓇.cameron. ┆ princess treatment.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ i srsly looove fem!reader callin' rafe 'dad' in my lil' stories. !!! mwahahahh . <3

princess treatment comes naturally to somebody like rafe cameron; who loves nothing more than to spoil you with his love, attention, and money. he adores how sweet you're, and he genuinely doesn't think you have a bad bone in your body—too angelic and sweet and naïve to be deceitful.

rafe cameron loves the sweet, gentle, little demure smiles you give him, all doll eyed and misty from the rough, downright nasty fucking he'd just given you—your long, mink lashes fluttering dreamily (and wetly) as you both come down from your explosive highs, with you panting gently and sweetly whimpering into his hard, broad, sweaty chest—not that the cameron man minded, he loved having you close, perhaps, sometimes… too close.

"gon' make you my lil' wifey someday, yea?" rafe mumbles casually, his voice raspy and deep, with a slight, teasing drawl to it, a bit of that rich boy, nasally tone of his that always kept you weak in the knees coming through.

you were always a shy girl at heart, his sweet little baby, he'd do anything you'd ask and more.

"y-yeah?" you hiccup shakily, softly pawing gently at his hard, bare chest, gently scratching your freshly manicured nails down his defined pectorals, feeling the ridges of taut, strong muscles underneath his warm, sweaty flesh.

rafe nodded, leaning over you completely and claiming your already kiss-swollen lips into another deep, passionate, possessive kiss, full of teeth and tongue and lots of rafe's saliva—coating your mouth in the most delicious, sinful ways of his ownership over you.

shyly, hesitantly, you reach down between your two bodies, bumping against his half-hard shaft, earning a low, warning growl to rumble against your boyfriend's chest.

"need more, don't ya', kid?" rafe taunts, before easily gripping himself by the base of his drenched cock, giving himself two quick, firm pumps of his large hand while mindlessly knocking your dainty one outta his way, knowing you liked to constantly touch things.

swiftly, he presses the now leaking tip against your abused, fluttering, dripping fuckhole, before pressing into you with a soft, deep grunt, already feeling those euphoric flames licking at the sensitivity of his heavy balls, positioning himself above you so he wouldn't crush you—but knowing you, his sweet girl, he already knows how you like to be roughly manhandled by him, like a pretty, innocent little dolly.

"dad!" you mewl femininely, a cute, glossy pout curling on your pretty lips, making them appear extra kissable, causing rafe to blink three times frantically, already feeling the blood from his head rushing down to his swelling cock, before he finally (and easily) slips back inside of you.

already, without failure, rafe can feel your sweet little pussy fluttering wildly around him, making him fully hard and desperate to come inside of your womb once again, a low groan escaping him as your little cunny began suffocating him, restricting him from pulling out for a moment.

"don't worry, baby—dad's always got you, yea?" rafe hums, before pulling his hips nearly all the way back, until just the leaking tip of his cock remained inside of your sopping, quivering little pussy, making rafe feel like he could blow another load into you any second now—still, he could be patient for his girl to catch up with him, and he knew he wouldn't have to wait long, not long at all.

"yeah... yea, dad! I-love you," you mewl breathily, feeling your little nipples harden from your overwhelming arousal, your doe-like eyes finally locking with your boyfriend's—and oh, you could see the darkness brewing inside of him, the insanity and desperate hunger he felt for you, and all of his possessiveness just rising to the surface, ready to claim you.

"such a good girl for daddy," rafe praises with a low, deep voice—a small, mocking smile appearing on his handsome, slightly flushed pink face, his abs clenching erratically as he can feel his cock twitch and pulsate inside of you, making him nearly whimper as you give him another harsh squeeze around his oozing prick.

roughly, rafe firmly grasps at the fat of the skin of your smooth, silky hips even tighter, holding you down with a knitted brow, tongue in his cheek as he begins to concentrate on fucking you again, hard and fast and nastily sinful—just the way his baby enjoyed.

"yea, yea... fuck, baby—feels so fuckin' good 'round me," rafe chuckled lightly to himself, floppy bangs falling into his eyes, but he couldn't care less, not with how fucking gorgeous you looked underneath him, so submissive and obedient, getting railed by him, becoming his over and over again without stop, without complaint.

"that's daddy's good little girl, huh?"

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hiiikiko · 2 months ago

Text

𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤, 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 [4] : casual

“I’m not jealous..”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

ellie williams x fem!reader | friends with benefits ft. sub!ellie

casual m.list | tlou m.list

tw: smut, jealous, confusing relationships, public sex

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

While getting ready for tonight’s concert, Ellie was hanging all over you, peppering your neck with kisses, grabbing your waist, and staring at you with lust filled eyes while you got dressed. You could tell that her need was getting the better of her and it was frustrating her because no matter what she did, you wouldn’t give into her smooth one liners or the lingering touches. Eventually, she groaned and left the apartment.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how mad Ellie looked, you would feel bad right now if it weren’t for her doing the same thing to you countless times.

You smiled a little as you walked into the bar, smoke filling your nostrils and the sound of glasses clinking, it was a familiar feeling now, almost like you came home, it was nice. You made your way to the back of the bar where the rest of your band was, Manny was plucking at his guitar strings and making sure each string was in the right note while he talked to Owen about how he may or may not have banged Owen’s ex-girl’s brother’s dog’s groomer’s daughter’s pre-school teacher.

“Hey,” you muttered, the cigarette on your lips dangling by the side of your mouth as you got a cup of water ready.

“Oh, hey,” Abby muttered, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning to Manny and hitting him in the chest with his drumsticks, making you giggle. Sure, you didn’t have as much history with these guys as you did in your last band but, they were starting to feel like home.

“So, let’s go over the set list again,” Abby pulls out a paper with some sloppy handwriting on it, must be Owens, “So first..”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Finally, the concert was beginning, you took a few deep breaths, sucking in the familiar taste of smoke and washing it down with some ice cold water. The band had gained some attention since they brought you on, even some familiar faces from your old band’s crowds were seen in the bar. Not to mention, Ellie’s band mates were here which meant a few of their ‘groupies’ were also here.

“Hey, how’s everyone doin’ tonight?” Manny yelled into his mic, eliciting more than a few cheers from the girls in the crowd, no doubt his own groupies. You had to thank Manny, actually, if he didn’t get around like an un-neutered dog, you might not have a crowd this big.

You take a step closer to the mic, wrapping your hand around the cold metal, “So the first song we’ll be singin’ t’night is a newish song, ‘s called ‘May Your Survival be Long,’ or alternatively, ‘May your Death be Swift.’”

The drums began, you could feel the beat of them rushing through you, it almost felt like your heartbeat was synchronized with them, then the guitar began, matching the blood coursing through your veins, finally, it was your cue to begin.

The song was actually a lot more popular than you thought it’d be, not that you ever doubted your song writing abilities.

Even though the crowd cheered you on and the drums made your brain go fuzzy, you couldn’t help but think about Ellie. You could feel her eyes on you but couldn’t see her through the stagelights and smoke filled room but you knew, those green eyes were watching your every move. Hell, you felt like YOU were the one being hunted by a wolf, pretty ironic right?

The concert came to an end, you gargled salt water, Abby greeted some girls in the crowd, Owen was packing up the tech equipment, and Manny was leaning against the stage while accepting a free drink from a very pretty girl. Your eyes went back to Abby, her strong arms easily being able to put her drums back in their cases.

“Good set,” you turn to see Jesse, “That song, uh, ‘May Your Death be Long’ ain’t half bad, now maybe if you—.”

You scoff, “Oh, shut it,’ Jesse feigns being offended and chuckles.

“Nah but seriously, that was really good, very, mm, Foo Fightersish I really..”

Jesse continued while your eyes scanned the bars, “Hey, the rest of your band here?”

“What? Oh, Dina was here but she left early, said she felt sick. Didn’t even stay for a drink and Ellie’s over there but she’s been out of it all night, dunno why.”

You hum, your eyes immediately darting to scan the bar and there she was, leaning against it while sipping on what looked like whiskey while a girl was practically throwing herself at her. Ellie glances at you and smirks before downing her drink and pulling the chatty girl in for a kiss, shutting her up. You roll your eyes and walk towards the restroom, you could feel the sweat from earlier still on your face, only now it was dry and made you feel gross.

Looking in the mirror, your mascara is a little smeared and your eyeliner almost completely off, then you splash the cold water over your face. Refreshing, the icy water waking you up and making you forget all about the redhead but then, you feel strong hands wrap around your waist.

“You looked pretty good up there,” a raspy, smooth voice whispers against your ear.

You reach for a paper towel and wipe your face before pushing the hands off your waist, “Yeah? I did didn’t I, well, I at least looked good enough for you to be hangin’ all over some girl, right?” You scoff.

“Ohh, someone’s jealous,” Ellie smirks.

“I’m not jealous,” you trail off, you were jealous and it was getting harder to hide. You were never to fond of sharing but you knew that Ellie wasn’t yours, even after all the times you’ve hooked up.

“Mhm and my eyes aren’t green,” she laughs, “Just admit it, you’re jealous,” her hands rub against your sides and her neck is buried in your neck.

You turned around, wrapping your arms around her slim neck, skilfully reeling her in, bringing her body closer to yours. The heat warming you up, almost like you had been drinking, Ellie’s chest pressed firmly against yours, her lips trailing down from your neck to your collarbones.

“See? Knew you wanted this too,” Ellie’s big mouth says, making your mind fill with frustration, god, she really just wouldn’t shut up, huh?

You’ve had it, you wrap your hands around her waist and push her up against the sink, her eyes filled with surprise but a small smirk still playing on her pretty pink lips, taunting you.

You shove your hand past her belt and into her jeans, fuck, “Aww, so wet f’me, pretty girl?”

Ellie’s face erupts into a blush, you can tell she’s never been treated like this before, “N-no..”

“Aw, don’t lie to me,” you smile against her neck, she’s trying her best to bite back her whimpers as your masterful fingers work at her clit, making her legs tremble a little, she’s really sensitive tonight.

“‘M not, fuck,” she accidentally lets out a pretty loud moan, the blaring music outside covering it, “Y/n, ‘s not do this here, w-what if someone sees?”

Her eyes dart to the unlocked door, “Ha, what’s wrong Williams, scared someone’s see the big bad bassist meltin’ under my touch,” you emphasize your sentence by nudging her clit with your knuckle as you make your way to her pretty hole.

She whimpers and her thighs shut around your hand, “N-no..”

“Good girl,” you whisper into her ear as your fingers make their way into her sopping wet hole, making her bite into your neck and whimper.

“Y/n, s’ too much,” she whimpers, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck, her body’s betraying her body, you can feel how her greedy hole is sucking your fingers in, she’s been looking forward to this all night, you’re the one smirking now, “Yeah? I can feel how bad you’ve wanted this.. so fuckin’ greedy,” you giggle.

Ellie’s face is now red, “Fuck you.”

The smirk is wiped off your face as your free hand wraps itself around her pretty long neck as the tips of your fingers press into the side of her neck, being careful of not crushing her throat, “Wanna say that again?”

Ellie clenches around your fingers at the feeling of you squeezing, “N-no, ‘m sorry.”

You smile, “Hm, good girl,” you begin to pump your fingers in and out of her pussy, she’s moaning like a whore now, forgetting all about her ‘big bad bassist’ persona and letting herself melt into your touch, “You deserve a treat, don’t ya think, Els?”

She nods feverishly, you peck her on the cheek and sit her up on the sink, “Take your pants off f’me,” she nods and hurriedly takes her pants off, almost forgetting to take off her belt.

You get on your knees and gently spread her legs, her pretty green eyes boring into yours, pleading for you to touch her. Instead of going straight for her pretty cunt, you gently kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly making your way up.

Ellie grumbles and wraps her hands into your hair, she tries to pull your head closer to her neglected pussy.

“Uh uh,” you shake your head, “Not yet, remember all the times you teased me, hm? This is what you get.”

Ellie whimpers like a dog that just kicked, “‘M sorry, jus-just need you.”

You giggle, enjoying how pathetic she’s acting, “Maybe if you beg, I’ll be more generous.”

Ellie’s eyes are conflicted, then suddenly, they are filled with lust, “P-please! I’ll do anything, please, jus wanna feel good.”

You stand up, your finger lifting her chin up so her eyes would meet yours, “Okay, but if I do this, you gotta do somethin’ f’me, alright?”

She smiles and nods, “Y-yeah, of course, anythin—.”

Before she could finish her sentence, you were already on your knees, pumping your fingers back into her greedy hole and your tongue was working at her clit.

Ellie covers her mouth, her legs wrapping themself around her head, locking you in place, “S’good.”

Ellie taste so sweet, it’s making your own cunt needy so your hands work their way into your panties and rub circles against your needy clit, your whimpers vibrating against Ellie’s, causing her to arch her back and pull your head in closer to her, then, before you knew it.. your face was covered in her slick and her legs had gone slack.

“That good, huh,” you stand up and smirk at her.

“S-shut up,” she rolls her eyes and gets off the sink, pulling her pants up and buckling her belt.

“H-hey, not so fast, Williams, you still owe me,” she smirks as you pull he in by her belt, her lips about to meet yours when you’re interrupted.

“Hey, Y/n—,” your eyes dart to the door, oh shit, “ W-what the fuck?”

It’s Abby and, shit, she looks pissed. She shuts the door and makes her way to Ellie who’s smirking and leaning against a stall, “Of course, Williams, of course, you’d do something like this.”

Ellie smirks and looks at the blonde, “Jealous, Anderson, huh? Some leader you are, can’t even keep your lead singer away from me.”

Abby’s eyes look like they’re only seeing red, she’s about to swing, her fist is clenched, and one foot drawn back to take one forward.

You step in front of her before she can do anything rash, your hands on her bicep, Ellie’s eyes narrow in on your hands, “Come on, Abs, just go.”

Abby scoffs when she looks at you, “God, you can’t be this fuckin’ stupid, Y/n, she’s using you, not like that’d be the first time.”

Ellie scoffs, what did that mean? But before she could say anything, you blurt out, “No, she’s not, Abs, we’re just hooking up,” you blush.

“Mhm, bet you are ‘just hooking up’,” she scoffs, obviously, she doesn’t believe you.

“We are!” you yell, as Abby leaves the bathroom but not before turning around and saying, “We’ll talk about this later,” her blue eyes dart towards Ellie who’s still smirking.

The door shuts, if it weren’t for they music still pumping out there, the bathroom would’ve been dead silent, then, Ellie’s laugh echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck, did you see her face?” she laughs, her arm wrapping around you, “Fuck, that was hilarious!”

You don’t join in her laughter, you shrug yourself out from underneath her arm.

“What’s wrong, don’t tell me what she said got to you?” Ellie’s voice is still lingering with laughter.

“What she said, what does that mean? ‘Not like that’d be the first time.’”

Ellie’s smile falters, “I-It’s nothin’, she’s just tryin’ to get to you,” her hands wrap around your waist as she try’s to pull you in.

You push her off, “Didn’t sound like nothing?”

She groans and leans against the sink, “Fuck, you’re acting like we aren’t ‘just hooking up,’ why would you give a fuck about my past, huh? ‘Sides if you’re so worried, why don’t you ask your drummer?” She rolls her eyes.

“Maybe, I will,” and with that you leave the bathroom and look for Abby.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101 @elliecoochieeater @sevyscoven

#ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie fanfic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie angst

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