#and i remember how unfinished it felt the first time…

[realitydistored]

okay am i allowed a warm take (tct spoilers, a bit)

i feel like the college tapes needed a couple more episodes

like the season is Great but then youre at 719 and youre like. wdym one episode left… what about all the mark stuff, oliver stuff, beck, do we get to see mark talk to beck about damien? wait its been mentioned but not shown? shit!!

like im glad all the caleb adam stuff was resolved and i know the story is about them but!! theres so much i care about and so much id love to see explored!!

[reilemon]

♥︎Amore Immortale♥︎ Ch. 2

♡︎synopsis: Unable to fall asleep after overhearing an argument, you unexpectedly find comfort in Xavier's presence.

♡︎pairing: vampire!Xavier, vampire!Zayne, vampire!Rafayel, vampire!Sylus x fem!reader (separately and together)

♡︎tags: vampire au, slow burn (-ish), eventual romance, eventual smut, eventual polyamory

♡︎word count: 4.4k

♡︎a/n: I rewrote this chapter like five times.

♡︎ Thanks to my dearest friend and beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

The cool silk of the nightgown drapes softly over your skin as you sink into the bed, the lingering warmth from the bath helping you relax. The bed is welcoming you with fresh linens and warmth from the fireplace across the room. You reach out to the small stack of books left on the bedside table, probably picked out by Xavier. Your gaze shifts to the teapot and a single teacup resting on the table beside you, reminding you of Zayne’s presence. He’d only been here minutes before, setting the tray with steady hands and explaining, without offering any details, that they’d be away for a few hours tonight.

Your eyes drift to the crystal vase next to the tray, brimming with vivid autumn flowers. The petals bring a comforting warmth to the room, a reminder of how attentive they’ve been since the moment you arrived. It’s only your third night in this mansion, a place so remote you feel like you’re in an entirely different world, surrounded by complete strangers who, somehow, feel anything but strange.

Yesterday has passed in a haze, the fever pinning you to the bed, and the men had gone out of their way to make you feel comforted and tended to. Sylus and Rafayel had brought you the nightgowns and dresses you found in your wardrobe, pieces finer and softer than anything you’d ever worn. Xavier had kept you company, reading aloud in a gentle voice when your own eyes felt too heavy to make it past the first few words on a page. And Zayne—his meticulous care in crafting light meals, tea, and tinctures had left you feeling as if you’d been restored from within. Now, save for the faintest hint of the bruise above your brow, it was as though nothing had happened to you at all.

They’d insisted, though—Zayne especially—that you stay at least a night or two more to ensure your full recovery. The thought of leaving made you feel odd. Relieved that your health improved so fast, yet – you felt reluctance. You understand completely why you don’t want to leave, but you know you’re only an injured house guest here.

You open the book, letting your fingers glide over the thick, slightly worn pages, continuing where Xavier left off. As your eyes scan the first few lines, a smile tugs at your lips, and you nearly chuckle to yourself. You remember that first hazy night here, tucked in the same bed and looking at these high ceilings, with only the eerie silence for company. In your fevered state, a wild thought crossed your mind—that perhaps these men could be something other than human. Vampires – of all things.

Now, you couldn’t imagine how such a thought had crossed your mind. The household might seem unusual—Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, and Rafayel all clearly different, probably not related, living in this mansion hidden far from everything—but they’d shown you nothing but kindness. Their attentiveness, their patience, the constant tending to your well-being—it made you feel almost guilty for the thought. Perhaps the head injury, the fever, had sent your mind spiraling into those strange corners, blurring logic with fantasy.

But still, there was something undeniably unusual about this household and the way it worked. You blink, the page turning slightly out of focus as your thoughts drift. Odd, you think, that four young men live here without any...

Your eyes flutter shut, the unfinished thought slipping away as sleep settles over you, the book settling on your chest.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The creak of the staircase pulls you from sleep, and you blink, momentarily disoriented. The book lies half-open on your chest, its pages ruffled from where you drifted off. You stir, your ears picking up low voices from somewhere downstairs and heavy footsteps. They ascend the stairs, not toward your room, but past it, fading into the distance.

As you blink away the fog of sleep, you realize that the men must have returned. But there’s something… off. You listen as multiple voices overlap in muffled conversation from downstairs. Their tones, hushed yet tense, are different than the warm and comforting voices that you’ve come to know.

You turn onto your side, clutching the duvet, trying to will yourself back to sleep. But the restlessness simmering within you refuses to let you drift off again. You catch some snippets of movement—a few footsteps pacing, a chair scraping, low murmurs —and an unbearable curiosity pushes you to sit up. You hesitate, but the need to know gnaws at you, compelling you out of bed. Moving slowly, you slide out from under the covers, careful to let your feet touch the floor without a sound. Tiptoeing across the room, you reach the door and press your ear to the wood.

You hear footsteps again, and you freeze, barely breathing as they descend the staircase just outside your room. They stop midway for a moment, and then continue downward, finally reaching the ground floor where probably the rest of them are conversing.

Zayne’s voice cuts through first. “Next time, we can’t afford any more slip-ups. We were... lucky tonight.”

Sylus’s deep, annoyed tone follows. “If you’d let me handle it, we’d have been done hours ago. But no—”

Then comes Rafayel, his voice clear and firm. “Stop. It’s useless to argue now.”

The conversation dips for a moment, a brief silence settling over them. You almost step away, but then Xavier’s soft voice reaches you, quieter than the others. “I’m fine,” he murmurs, almost as though he’s trying to reassure someone. “It’s nothing, really…”

You strain to hear more, but their voices have softened, losing the edge they held only moments ago.

With a last attempt to catch any final word, you step away from the door. Your first instinct is to pace around the room, to shake off the tension coursing through you. But you force yourself to stay still, wary of letting them know you’re awake. Instead, you settle back into bed, pulling the duvet up around your shoulders, but your mind refuses to quiet. When Zayne mentioned they’d be out for the evening, you’d imagined something lighthearted—a celebration, perhaps, or an event in some nearby town.

Curiosity gnaws at you, making you toss and turn, urging you to find out more. Still, you feel a reluctance to pry - they’d taken you in, a stranger, letting you stay without hesitation, and the last thing you want is to betray their trust. But beyond curiosity, there’s a lingering need to do more. It feels maybe naive, but there’s an urge to comfort them, to offer something back for the kindness they’ve shown you.

Yet…how could you, without admitting you’d been listening?

As you turn again, your eyes settle on the empty teacup resting on the table beside you, as you wait for the sound of footsteps outside your door. This is your third night here, and last night, Zayne had quietly come in to take the empty cup, and relight the fire in the hearth. His presence had felt comforting, his voice a warm murmur as he asked if you needed anything else before he left.

But tonight, the room remains silent, the warmth from the fire has dwindled to a faint glow. Zayne doesn’t appear, at least not in the next few minutes while you wait. You sit up, feeling a surge of determination wash over your hesitation. You reach for the tray with the empty teacup, hoping it will serve as an innocent excuse for stepping outside.

The door creaks softly as you ease it open, and just as you step into the hallway, Zayne appears, making you flinch and the porcelain clink. He stops, his gaze landing on the tray in your hands, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“You should be resting,” he says softly. He reaches out, taking the tray from your hands, his fingertips brushing yours briefly before he steps past you into the room.

You linger in the doorway, watching as he sets the tray down and moves toward the fireplace, kneeling to stoke the coals back into a steady flame. He doesn’t look at you right away, his expression focused, brow faintly furrowed. You want to ask him if he’s alright, but the words catch in your throat.

After a moment, he stands and turns back to you, his expression softening as he studies your face. Without a word, he reaches out, the back of his hand cool as it presses lightly to your forehead. His eyes meet yours, the faintest hint of a smile lifting his lips. “You’re nearly back to yourself.”

You open your mouth, ready to ask this time, but his gaze shifts.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, offering a soft “thank you” as Zayne picks up the tray, his lips lifting in a faint, reassuring smile. “Good night,” he murmurs, and with a gentle click, he closes the door behind him.

As soon as he’s gone, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. The warmth of his kindness is there, but tonight he is more reserved. You sit down on the edge of the bed, your mind racing to find another way to get closer to whatever they’re keeping hidden. But every option seems flimsy. With a restless sigh, you reach for the book on your bedside table, flicking through its pages, the words slipping past your eyes without meaning. Minutes crawl by, but the unease hasn’t faded. Closing the book with a quiet thud, you set it aside, steeling yourself as you stand.

A harmless excuse… sweets. You know it’s thin, and that Zayne had just asked if you needed anything, but at this point, any excuse to step out feels better than staying in this restless haze. Taking a deep breath, you ease the door open once more.

The door creaks, louder than you’d like, and you wince at the sound, pausing mid-step. But the moment you step out, movement catches your eye. You turn to see Xavier down the hallway, wearing pajamas and a silk robe. His gaze shifts toward you, his hand just on the handle of what you assume must be his bedroom door. His eyes meet yours, his expression softening as he takes a step closer.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, his voice warm.

You part your lips, ready to give your hastily-prepared excuse, but your words falter the moment your eyes trace over a thin scratch on his cheek. Your heart skips, a pang of worry tightening your chest. And then you see his hand—bandaged.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice almost too loud in the quiet of the hall.

Xavier’s gaze flickers down at his hand. He brushes it off with a light shrug, as if the wound were nothing but a scrape. “Nothing serious,” he murmurs. His eyes meet yours again, calm and sweet, as they always are.

Xavier smiles softly as he takes in your concerned gaze. “But why aren’t you in bed?”

You open your mouth to press him further, hoping for something, anything, but you know it’s futile. Resigned, you settle on your flimsy excuse. “I… I wanted to get some sweets,” you murmur.

A slight smirk touches his lips, and he tilts his head. “Sweets? You probably shouldn’t eat those before bed,” he teases, his eyes catching yours with a playful glint.

You shift under his gaze, feeling the faintest blush creep onto your cheeks. “I just… I can’t sleep,” you mumble, lowering your gaze.

Xavier’s gaze shifts to your bedroom door. For a second, you think he might suggest that you return to your bed after all. But then, with a small sigh, he glances back at you and says, “I’d offer to take you to the library, but it’s a bit of a mess at the moment.”

Your eyes light up, and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding eagerly. “I don’t mind at all! I’d love to see it!”

Xavier raises an eyebrow, surprised by your sudden enthusiasm. He blinks once, and then chuckles. “Well now I can’t say no.” he murmurs, unable to mask the warmth in his gaze as he takes in the lively gleam in your eyes. “Follow me.”

He turns, guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. The quiet between you feels comfortable. Though he is injured, he seems to be doing fine, with his familiar calm expression and steady walk. Maybe nothing serious happened after all. Being confined in between four walls may be the cause of your overactive imagination.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As Xavier pushes open the library doors, a faint scent of wood, old leather, and parchment fills the air, enveloping you in that unmistakable fragrance of long-forgotten books. Your eyes adjust to the darkness in the room, noting immediately that Xavier wasn’t exaggerating. Piles upon piles of books are stacked in nearly every corner, most of the shelves are still dusty and empty. The room itself isn’t vast, but it’s larger than the bookstore back in your village, with high ceilings and walls lined with rich, dark wood paneling. While you’re captivated by the room’s potential, Xavier quietly moves across the room, opening the heavy curtains, letting the moonlight illuminate the room. Then he moves towards the center of the room, crouching down to light the fire in the large stone fireplace. It takes only a few moments before the first crackling flames rise, casting a warm, golden glow.

“Come over here,” he calls softly, gesturing for you to join him.

You wrap your silk robe a little tighter around you, shivering slightly, and step toward him. As you reach his side, you notice that this corner has been carefully arranged. Thick blankets and oversized pillows are gathered in a cozy nook by the hearth, creating a warm nest. Xavier watches you with a smile, his gaze attentive as you take in the inviting corner. You settle beside him on the fuzzy blanket, the fire’s warmth radiating through the corner as Xavier gently pulls another blanket around your shoulders. The fabric is thick and soft, warding off the lingering chill of the room.

“Have you noticed the ceiling?” he asks.

Curious, you look up, and a small gasp escapes your lips. Above you, stretching across the high ceiling, is a stunning, intricately painted night sky. Swirls of deep blue and violet mix with specks of gold and white, forming constellations and stars. Each star glints in tandem with the shadows, giving the illusion that the night sky itself watches over you. Xavier observes your reaction with a soft, knowing smile, the faintest hint of pride in his eyes as he watches you take it all in. “It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

Your eyes gaze over the ceiling, over the tall windows, towards the empty shelves that line the walls. Even in its disarray, the library feels timeless. As you pull the blanket tighter, a thought crosses your mind, and you glance over at him. “Did you all just move here?” you ask, your voice soft.

He shifts, his gaze falling to the fire. “We’re still settling in, you could say.” His answer leaves you with more questions than before.

You catch yourself before pressing further. Instead, your gaze wanders around the room, over the books scattered and stacked in every corner, the empty shelves waiting to be filled. “Well,” you say with a light chuckle, “if it’s just you, it’ll take you weeks—maybe months—to sort all of this.”

He nods in agreement. “You’re right,” he replies, a faint, tired smile ghosting his lips. “It can feel tedious at times. Zayne helps here and there, but even with two of us, it’s an endless task.”

Before you can second-guess yourself, the words are already out. “I could help you with it.”

His attention shifts back to you, studying your face with a spark of intrigue, waiting for you to say more.

“I… work in a bookstore,” you explain, almost shyly. “It’s nothing grand, but I know my way around organizing stacks of books. And, well, I’d like to return your kindness for taking care of me.” You finish with a small shrug.

Xavier’s eyes brighten. “A bookstore…” he murmurs thoughtfully. Xavier’s gaze softens as he considers your offer. “I appreciate the offer,” he says “But for now, your task is to rest and get back to full strength.”

You nod in agreement. Then, Xavier leans to the side, plucking out a book from a small pile on the floor. It’s the one he’d read to you the day before. He turns, holding up the book. “Would you like to stay here, or would you rather go back to your room?”

You look around the cozy corner, the thick blankets and cushions strewn around you. You glance up at him, meeting his patient gaze. “Could we stay here?”

He nods with a quiet smile. “Of course,”

You settle in, sinking into the soft pillows and pulling the warm blankets snug around you. He sits beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint brush of his shoulder when he shifts. The fire crackles softly, its glow casting flickering shadows across the room, and the warmth wraps around you like a comforting embrace. As he begins to read the lines, it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared, leaving only the two of you.

The flickering firelight bathes his face in soft, golden hues, highlighting the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lips. Your eyes linger on his soft lips a moment too long, and when you glance up, your breath catches—he’s looking at you, his lips curling into the faintest, knowing smile, before turning the page and continuing. Your cheeks are burning, and you steel your gaze to the fireplace.

The story takes a lighter turn, the characters exchanging playful banter, and you can’t help but laugh softly at one of the lines. Xavier glances at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles along. As he continues reading, the restlessness from before is finally drifting away. Your blinks grow slower, each one a little heavier than the last. You try to fight it, not wanting the moment to end, but your body has other plans. Your eyes flutter closed briefly.

After a quiet moment, he closes the book with a soft thud. “You’ll be more comfortable in your bed.”

You shake your head with a sleepy smile. “No, I’m fine here,” you protest, your voice barely above a murmur.

Xavier chuckles softly. “Comfortable, maybe,” he says, leaning closer, “but it’s too cold to sleep here all night. You’ll catch a cold.”

You start to protest, something about being perfectly fine, but the words catch in your throat when you feel his arms slide under you, the blanket still wrapped snugly around your form. Before you can register what’s happening, he lifts you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest.

“Xavier,” you murmur, heat rushing to your face. “I—I can walk, you know.” 

“I know,” he says simply, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his arms tighten slightly around you.

Your head rests naturally on his shoulder, your face close to the crook of his neck. His scent, subtle and clean, fills your senses. His footsteps echo softly against the wooden floors as he carries you down the dimly lit hallway. Every so often, you feel his thumb brush lightly against your shoulder, a comforting gesture that sends a soft flutter through your chest.

His warmth and scent make you flustered and now you’re wide awake by the time you reach your bedroom. He nudges the door open with his shoulder and crosses the threshold, moving carefully until he’s at the edge of your bed. As Xavier gently sets you down on the bed, you feel yourself start to sink comfortably into the mattress. But when he begins to lift the blanket off, it is simply not budging - in your half-asleep state, you’ve somehow managed to wrap yourself up so thoroughly that you’re practically cocooned. The fabric has twisted around your legs and tangled around your arms. Xavier laughs softly at the cozy mess you’ve created.

“Snug as a bug in a rug.” he teases, lightly tugging on one corner.

You can’t help but laugh as you try to wriggle out of the fabric. With mutual efforts, the fabric begins detangling around your limbs.

Finally, after a last tug, he manages to pull the blanket completely. You exhale in relief as the laughter subsides, and you sit up, adjusting the silk robe that had gotten a little loose.

Xavier tosses the blanket on the chair near your bed, and turns to you with the amusement already faded from his expression.

“You’re really okay?” he asks quietly. 

The question catches you off guard. You nod. “I am,” you whisper. “Thanks to all of you.” 

His lips curve into a faint smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good.”

The stillness stretches, the room is quiet except for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. You swallow, hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should say anything at all. But - “Could you…” you start softly, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “Maybe stay? Just—just to sleep.” 

His eyes widen just slightly. He searches your face, as if making sure he’s understood you. “You want me to stay?”

You nod. “I just – I would like some company.” Your voice falters slightly, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks as you speak, but you don’t look away. 

For a moment, he doesn’t move, his gaze holding yours. With an almost imperceptible nod, he says, “Okay.” 

Relief floods through you, though the calm is short lived as both of you discard the robes and slip under the duvet, making your heart pick up the pace. You’re clad in nothing but a silk nightgown and undergarments, only inches away from one of the - from a man that gives you butterflies.

“Better?” he asks softly.

You nod, swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat. “Yeah… much better,” you murmur, but you barely register your words, distracted by the way his eyes linger on yours, then on your lips. Your heart pounds as the moment stretches, and then slowly, you’re leaning in, testing the waters. You close the distance just a fraction, your lips close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Your heart races, the anticipation nearly unbearable. After a moment he mirrors your movement, his face inching closer, until you’re just a breath apart. Xavier pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time. You don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in just a bit more, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

His lips meet yours, gentle and warm. You return the kiss, your breath hitching at the softness of his lips, the way they tenderly move against yours, making you feel those butterflies again. Xavier’s fingers graze your jaw, his touch feather-light at first, before he cups your cheek in his hand, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, his lips pressing more firmly against yours. You let out a soft sigh, as your hands instinctively move to grip the fabric of his shirt.

Suddenly, breathless, he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes search yours, “Is this okay?” he asks.

You can barely form words, your heart pounding in your chest. “More than okay,” you manage to whisper, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

Before you can say anything more, his mouth is on yours again. His lips moving hungrily against yours, his hand holding the back of your head as he pulls you closer. Your fingers find purchase in his hair - his soft, fluffy hair – every graze of his lips stealing your breath away. All you can feel is him—the way his hands trace down your back, pressing you flush against him, his scent, his warm breath and the taste of his lips.

Xavier’s hands slide along your side, his fingertips grazing the thin fabric of your nightgown. He shifts his weight, and you sink back onto the mattress, his body following until he hovers over you, his hands resting on either side of your head. Your legs part instinctively, and he accepts the invitation without a second thought. The soft fabric of your nightgown rides up, bunching around your hips as his body presses flush against yours, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. The only barriers between you are the thin fabric of his pajama pants and your undergarments, and they’re doing nothing to dull the dizzying feeling of his hard length perfectly pressed against your clothed slit.

Xavier groans softly, the sound vibrating against your lips as he kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing yours in a way that makes your toes curl. His hands find your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he rolls his hips against yours. His hard length grinds against your wet folds, and your back arches instinctively, seeking more of him.

He pulls away slightly, taking in the sight of your beautiful face as you moan under him. Then his lips trail over your jawline to your neck. His warm breath fans over your skin, and when his teeth graze the sensitive, thin skin on the side of your neck, a small whimper escapes you at the sensation. His tongue follows, soothing it, and you shiver beneath him, your hands clutching his shoulders, pulling him even closer. His hips grind harder now, the friction against your clit making you soak through the fabric of your underwear. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently as his lips return to yours, his kiss hungry, desperate. Every sensation is driving you closer to the edge, your hips moving in tandem with his, both of you chasing the pleasure. 

But then, he stills, his forehead pressing against yours as he catches his breath.

“We should slow down,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks.  

You blink up at him, dazed, your body still thrumming from his touch. “Why?”

He swallows hard, “You’re still recovering,” he says gently, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You want to protest, but the words get lost in your throat, and you can only nod. It’s frustratingly true—you’re not fully back to your strength, and he’s injured. He gives you a tender kiss, before lying back on the mattress. He pulls you into a soothing embrace, your head resting against his chest, your eyelids growing heavy at the sound of his heartbeat.

[fauustic]

late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again. 

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you." 

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue. 

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers. 

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights? 

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working. 

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights. 

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms.  "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished. 

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything." 

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him. 

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted. 

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds. 

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño." 

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina." 

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves. 

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub. 

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive. 

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about. 

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

[petew21-blog]

Sexy revenge

I died serving my country as a mercenary all my life since I was left the school. Some might say that I did it only for money and they would be right. I did. It pass good. But I was freaking good at my job. I was a pro. And that's why they always called me back. Why I asked for more and more money and the government always provided. Cause they knew I would succeed.

But once, I wasn't the one picking my team. I always do background checks on them. But this one time I was assigned soldiers I knew but wasn't comfortable working with. Especially this one guy who would kill himself just cause his captain said so. The most loyal one I knew. I knew he despised me for the mercenary job. He did it for country, I did it for money. A loyal dog he was, I called him Rex just to mess with him. He clearly didn't like it. And to be honest, I really don't remember his name.

We were on a mission, the goal was clear. Secure the target, eliminate and get enough evidence and leave immediately.

It went smoothly. But as we found the guy, bombs around. Our squad was separated and I was left with Rex alone. We decided to find the evidence and leave. We were ambushed by a group of our enemies. Thanks to me, we managed to eliminate them all, including the target. But our team was still under fire from the roof. We sneaked up there. Rex was covering me and I eliminated the guy and saved my squad. And suddenly a shot went through my chest. I turned around painfully, just to see Rex holding our enemies weapon after firing.

"Nothing perosnal, orders are orders. You were a pain in the ass of our government. Always wanting more money, making your own rules. They know you're good, but so am I. This way, I'll get medals for saving our guys up here. While you will die here. That's where money gets you." and then he shot me in the head

And that's the last thing I remember. My body was transported back to the States. I somehow felt my prevence around it. The more time passed the more I could see the world around me. I become a ghost. I knew exactly why I didn't pass on. My unfinished bussiness was the one who shot me in the head. But how was I suppose to finish the bussiness now since I was a ghost.

Time went by. My body rotted in the ground. I was just roaming the world without no goal. But one day, I saw a ceremonial in the TV on the street. Rex was recieving a medal just as he said. "That fucker". The anger fuelled me. Revenge is the thing that let's me move on.

"I have to get to him somehow. But he is now protected. Hidden in the army. And I am still a ghost that only now knows how to make lights flicker and slightly move objects. Unless I scare him to death I won't get my revenge. I have to get a body."

The first person I tried on was a homeless person on the street. He was high on fentanyl. That made it easier for me cause he didn't fight. But staying in a body that's this high is really hard. I left his body and tried on some kid in a park and succeeded. Ok, next level. A teenager.

My luck was really great today. I picked one who was a pickpocket and was followed by a police officer. So much running after being dead and the possession made it hard for me to run from him. And I got caught. Whiel we were writing on the red light. Me, still in the teens body, I now focused myself on the police officer on the passengers seat. He was asleep, probably from his night shift, maybe that will make it easier for me.

I concentrated and then my soul just moved a bit to the front. Being accepted in the adult body. He did put up a fight even though He was sleep, but I won.

I opened my eyes. My 'colleague' was looking at me and just laughed. "Bad dreams?"

"What?" my deep voice left my throat. What a manly body I picked.

"You were sharing man. You dreamed of some chick atleast?"

"Haha, yeah that's right" I chuckled and then pretended to sleep again to not let him question me again.

I left the teen thief with my colleague and went to the lockers to change and end my shift

Taking off the uniform I found out that the police officer, Adrian Jackson, I now possesed, had bunch of tatoos, hairy chest, muscular body and satisfactory dick. Mine was better. But this one is young. Might be nice to enjoy the young fertility again

I went to the mirror to get a good look at myself

"Ooooooh, look at those GUNS!" I flexed to see what I was now working with.

"This body is really nice. If I get my revenge I could stay being you, Adrian."

Tapping into Adrians mind I found out what his adress was. And what any man, not only gay ones, would do in this situations? That's right. I went to explore my new body in the shower. Feeling the hot water running down was erotic itself. I missed having feelings.

As I was drying off my hairy dick that just shot cum on the shower wall, I knew there was something missing

I found the clothes in his closet that were slightly resembling the ones I used to wear. What was now reflecting at me in the mirror was a young, hot reflection of an adult man, very similar to me as when I was starting my mercenary career.

I took a very revealing photo for later. Don't worry, I have to give this body a nice ride. And FUCK how I wanna ride someone. Whoever it is. Man, woman, anyone.

My plans are about to proceed. I have a body I need to take revenge on Rex. Another step? Leaving Adrian's job as a cop. Becoming a mercenary again. Getting a haircut and get as close to REX as possible.

Surely he will be tempted to take down another mercenary that is just like me before.

Revenge is so sexy if you ask me

Story request from inbox: You can make a story about an old mercenary possessing a handsome young cop, and turning him into a new mercenary.

[swallowtail-lotus]

Two is better than one {Hades x Goddess!Reader x Poseidon} (NSFW!)

Repost

I don't feel too proud of this tbh

Warnings: 18+, double penetration(yes please-), Poseidon being poseidon (probably ooc for the first part), pussy eating, creampie, mentions of overstimulation

_________

How did this happen?

One minute you were just minding your own business when one of the many servants of Poseidon told you to come over to their master's underwater palace, you get there and the next minute, you're in his room, trying to keep quiet as he mercilessly slams into you with incredible force. With every thrust, he was either dead silent or letting out quiet grunts.

"L-Lord Poseidon! What's the- Ah! meaning of this?" You managed to groan out, your lower region filled up with the god's length. Poseidon didn't respond and continued to slam in you. Your wrists were pinned to the bed by his hands.

What gotten into him all of a sudden? He was never like this before. He was always so distant from everyone, except for his older brother, Hades. Physical touch isn't something he approved of unless you meant something to him.

"Silence. You have no need to speak."

His words came out harsh, but that's just how he speaks to anyone (if he gave them the time that is). You shut your mouth after that, but it was proven to be difficult with his cock buried deep inside your entrance. Since one of his hands had your wrists pinned down, all you can do to keep quiet was to seal your lips.

Through your half lidded eyes, you try to took the time to bask in the surprising beauty the sea god has. His wavy blonde locks moving in sync with his thrusts, the sea blue eyes staring right into your own, muscles flexing from gripping both your wrists and the spot beside your head.

This whole situation was confusing on its own.

Then you remembered. A while back, Poseidon had asked for your hand in marriage. Being a goddess who wanted to wait, you politely declined the proposal. You guessed that didn't sit well with the God.

As if it couldn't get any more shocking, his older brother, Hades asked the same thing! Like before, you rejected and went on with your day.

Was Poseidon... Jealous?

Your questions were interrupted by the tip hitting your womb repeatedly. A surprised gasp left your lips, soon turning to whimpers.

"You'll regret rejecting me." He hissed, his hips bucking even faster than before. Your walls clenched around his cock, the organ twitching against them. You heard Poseidon take  sharp inhales through his teeth, possibly a sign he was close. You felt yourself getting close too.

"I'm-" You could barely finish that sentence when his load shot into you, some of it leaking out of your pussy. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled out. Your legs twitched in place, slowly closing them to prevent anymore of his load coming out.

"W-why did you-"

"You don't deserve it yet." He interrupted you by answering your unfinished question. Your hand immediately went down to finger yourself when he loosen his grip on your wrists, but he stopped you from doing so.

"I said you. Don't. Deserve. It." He repeated, some hostility in his bland tone. You whimpered again, desperately grinding on the bed. His hands began to roam your body, not showing a hint of remorse to your current state. You couldn't take it anymore, and soon your juices came out. Until you were done, you fell back on the bed, your hair spread out and face flushed.

"Just from my touch? How pathetic." Poseidon spoke, eyeing your wet clit. You couldn't care less about his words, you were just glad this was all over...

Or so you thought...

~~~~~~~~~~

One month has passed, and you haven't been more relieved to see Poseidon as his usual self. Ever since that day, you've tried your best to avoid him more than ever. Originally, you found yourself sitting/standing next to the God, now you distance yourself by standing near other gods. When one of the servants searched for you, you'd hide.

But another problem began to rise up as soon as Hades came in. Except he was the problem.

Just like Poseidon, he was persistent in his advances, but he was also very subtle. However, it did get annoying over time. Sure, the flowers and jewellery were great gifts, and you appreciate them all, but sometimes it got on your nerves.

One day, a minor god fearfully approached you to tell you about Hades wanting to see you for important matters. This was unexpected, seeing how Hades rarely asks for anyone unless it was really urgent.

"I'll be there. Although I don't see why he needs me of all people." You commented, mostly to yourself. You made your way to the underworld, greeting Cerberus with a pat on  the three heads. You managed to find the God, looking handsome as ever with his hair slightly messed up and his face not ruined in the slightest.

"Lord Hades? Why did you ask for me?" You questioned, your (e/c) eyes wide with curiousity. The God looked up from the desk, his normally stoic face softening at the sight of you.

"I just need your help with something." He answered, standing up from the desk. You watched him make his way towards you, his eye shining under the light. Before you could react, he trapped you between his arms, towering over you.

"I need you to answer me. Why did you reject me?" He leaned closer to your face, his lips only a few centimetres from yours. You were too afraid to respond, and being this close to the god wasn't helping.

"W-well, Lord Poseidon asked for my hand in m-marriage, and seeing you do the same c-caught me off guard.." Your response was barely a whisper, but given how close both of you were, Hades definitely heard it.

Hades took the time to properly admire your beauty, stroking your cheek with a small smile.

"I don't blame my brother. You remind me of the River Styx." You blinked at the comment he made. It was an odd way to compliment someone, but knowing Hades, this wasn't too surprising.

"How so?" You asked. Hades kept quiet, leaning even closer and left soft kisses on your neck, his hands moving to your sides. Your whole body shook in his hands, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.

His lips were strangely soft, but cold. He moved up from your neck to your lips. Unlike Poseidon, it wasn't forced but instead sweet, the coldness was nice against yours. Instead of fighting it, you caved in, moving your arms up to wrap them around his neck. You felt his hands trail down to your hips, hoisting you up by your thighs. You felt his bulge rub against your inner thigh.

His tongue came out to lick your lips, as if asking for permission. Your lips moved, enabling the god to wrestle with your tongue. He pulled away, much to your disappointment.

"L-Lord Hades.." You shuddered out, drooling slightly. Hades kept you up, unbuckling his pants with one hand. He used that hand to rip off your dress along with your panties. Once he was done, he put his hand under your right thigh, his cock out and fully erected. Your eyes widen at the sheer size of his length, which was about 7 inches. The tip had precum oozing out and poked at your entrance. Your heart was beating fast right now, legs trembling in his hands.

"May I?" The God inquired, his lips forming a smirk. You nodded eagerly, your hands now gripping his shoulders. After adjusting himself, he thrusted in slowly, burying his head in the right side of your neck. Out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Fuck." Hades hissed in your ear, biting the lobe while bucking his hips faster. He was different than Poseidon, who did fill you up but not like Hades. Hades was the right size to hit you in the right spot. With every thrust, it brought you over the edge of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his breathing fanning your ear. One harsh thrust, you came all over his cock.

All of a sudden, Hades stopped completely, moving from your neck and his dick still inside. Your face turned to confusion, watching Hades with caution. Hades brought you to his desk, turned you over on your stomach. Your chest was pressed against the hard surface, your wetness dripping out. His warm, rough hands caressed your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing your skin. His length brushed against your ass, the underside sliding up and down.

You let out a gasp of shock when he slammed into your ass, rising up on your toes.

"I've been stressed lately, being a king is quite tiring, wouldn't you agree?" He teased suggestively, pressing himself against your back. Hades left soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, his hands now groping your chest. Your tongue hung out of your mouth, eyes rolled back to the back of your skull. The desk nudged forward from Hades  constantly slamming into you.

Hades chuckled near your ear, couple of grunts here and there.

"Want me to use you all I want?" He asked, his fingers trailing along the lips of your pussy. You were too caught up with the bliss to answer back. Hades didn't wait for your response and shoved his fingers inside. He grunted out that he was close, which was barely audible, but you heard it crystal clear. Once he was satisfied, his pulled his fingers out, your cum coating his fingers. He takes one long lick at his fingers, tasting the liquid.

"Much sweeter than I thought."

One final thrust, his load came out in your ass and he pulled out. You caught your head when it was about to drop to the side, your face feeling heated up from the session. You managed to lift yourself up, panting heavily.

"Good little dove. You can stay here until you're ready to leave, okay?" 

~~~~~~~~~

It's been four months since that happened, but you felt disappointed. Disappointed that it didn't last as long as you had hoped for, but it was fun nonetheless.

Hades was kind enough to take care of you until you were perfectly fine after that.

Now, an invitation from Zeus himself to an event was unexpected, seeing how you sometimes had trouble talking to gods from other pantheons. You wanted to decline, but knowing the supreme god, you decided to go so you wouldn't have to deal with his constant persistence. You are close to Zeus, but you thought your friendship wasn't this serious.

"You finally accepted my invitation! The first time in centuries, too!" Zeus exclaimed once he saw you. You gave him a smile and waved at him. Thankfully, he didn't try to approach you and stayed in his place.

You had to admit, Zeus does know how to keep parties lively. You thought you were gonna be bored in an instant, but Zeus proved you wrong. Even so, you still preferred to stay away from the other gods.

After two hours, you decided to leave. After roaming the huge corridors, you heard distant voices over the music. Slowly growing bored, you went over to check it out. You found the voices to be both gods who had longed pursued you.

Hades and Poseidon. And it seems that they weren't agreeing with each other on something.

"What the- may I ask why were you arguing?" You asked, looking at both gods, expecting an answer. Hades was the one who stepped up.

"We were simply discussing about you." Hades answered, lifting your chin up to look into your beautiful (e/c) eyes. Poseidon can only stare at his older brother with his usual emotionless face.

"Discussing what, exactly?" You asked, placing on your hands on your hips.

"About marrying one of us." Hades chuckled when he saw your frown. You wanted to groan out of annoyance, but you wasted that energy with the party. You sighed out, lowering your head.

"How many times must I say this? I don't want to marry neither of you!" You shouted, pretty upset they can't take the hint. The brother looked at each other and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you to a bedroom. You wanted to fight back, but they were one of the strongest gods in Valhalla.

Thinking back on the times where they made love to you, you had thought you hated it, but now you don't.

You stopped resisting and let them throw you on the bed. Poseidon slowly leaned down towards your face, forcefully pressing his lips to yours. His tongue overpowered your tongue, his hand groping your chest roughly.

"We can always do it the hard way, dove." Hades kneeled down in front of your clit, took off your clothes and immediately licked your pussy, holding your thighs up. You moaned in the kiss, wondering whenever to mess with Poseidon's hair or leave it be.

Hades pushed his tongue inside, face buried deep in your entrance. Poseidon shot back from you, his chest moving slowly from his breathing.

Hades pulled back, your pussy already wet. He stood up straight, climbing on the bed and set himself behind you. Poseidon shifted to position himself in front of you, setting his hands on your thighs. Without thinking, you moved your hands to undo Poseidon's pants, to which the latter didn't stop you. Hades lifted you up by the hips, positioning you on top of both their cocks. Their lengths slowly slide inside both your holes.

Thankfully, both of them let you take some time to adjust to their lengths and they start moving their hips. They went slow, but the pent up energy they had took over them and their hips moved at speeds unimaginable.

"Oh my- My lords-" Two hands groped your breasts, pinching your perked nipples.

"Good girl~" The grip on your tits tighten, two tongue taking each side of your neck. The lovebites they're leaving were much harder, and possible could leave bruises. All the stimulation previously held in had come flowing out, the cum leaking out both your holes.

Much to your confusion, they didn't pull out, but rather continued their animalistic thrusts.

"A-ah wait-" You tried to plea, but it fell on deaf ears. Their grunts filled your ears and the air in the room, the two gods not showing a single sign of stopping.

They never stopped until you eventually milked Poseidon's cock after the 5th round. After it was all over, you collapsed.

The next morning, your clit and ass were still extremely sore from last night. It was hard but you managed to get off the bed, only to stumbled forward. On the small nightstand laid a piece of paper, which you assumed to be a letter of sorts. You scurried over to read the letter, deciding to get back on the bed. You opened the letter, reading it over and over again.

Don't think we're done yet. See you real soon, my dove~

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife pregnant!reader? Hw was reluctant to go to work because he was worried about his pregnant wife. When he was leaving he kept leaving quick pecks on her lips, but ended up pulling her back for more, which could go on for hours if one of the doesn’t finally pull away. She eventually breaks them apart so he isn't late to work. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :)))

Sure thing here you go 🤗 By the way I think I'm going to write for other teams/drivers as well... for other team principles, I'm not so sure about it! So if you have any requests about other drivers just let me know 🙌🏻 FOR NOW ENJOY THIS.

Toto was getting ready for work, his mind filled with thoughts about his pregnant wife. He knew he had to leave for work soon, but he didn't want to leave her behind. As he was packing his bag, his wife came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Toto turned to face her, a small smile spreading across his lips as he looked into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and planted a quick peck on her lips, but he couldn't help but linger for a few moments longer. As Toto pulled away, he saw a contented look on his wife's face. She smiled back at him, their eyes locked in unspoken understanding. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't resist planting another quick kiss on her lips. Again, he planned to pull away quickly, but the feel of her soft, warm lips under his was too intoxicating. He found himself lingering again, his arm wrapping around her waist as their kiss deepened. The kiss grew more passionate, their bodies pressing closer together. Toto's hands roamed over his wife's pregnant belly, cherishing the life growing inside her. He knew he had to break the kiss soon, but he couldn't pull away just yet. When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. "You're going to be late for work," She said while panting heavily after the kiss. "It's ok, I'm the boss, remember." They're both laughing at his words as her hands slowly smooth his collar. "Seriously, go, Toto."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and finished packing his bag, but not before planting one last kiss on her lips. Toto watched as his wife leaned against the wall, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from their kiss. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked at her. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't stop thinking about her as he made his way to the car. As he sat inside the car, his mind kept wandering back to the kiss they had shared. He couldn't believe that even after all these years, kissing her still felt just as amazing as the first time.

Hours later, Toto was still thinking about his wife as he sat at a meeting. His mind kept wandering back to that last kiss, and how her lips had tasted and felt under his. He found it hard to focus on the important business they were discussing, and the reports in front of him seemed to blur together. He knew he had to get through this day and that he would see her again soon, but all he wanted to do was go home and kiss her again.

As the day wore on, Toto grew more and more restless. He found himself sneaking glances at his phone, hoping for a message from his wife. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had left something unfinished between them that morning, and he was desperate to feel her lips against his again. Finally, the day ended and he made his way back home. As he opened the front door, he immediately looked for his wife, eager to pull her into his arms and kiss her. As Toto walked through the door, he saw his wife sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, setting her phone aside. Toto crossed the room quickly, his eyes fixed on her. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her soft body against his. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, and then leaned down and found her lips with his own. As their lips met, Toto felt a wave of desire wash over him. He had missed her all day, and now that he had her in his arms again, he wanted to devour her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, eagerly exploring every inch of her. His hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves and pulling her closer to him. As Toto broke the kiss and they pulled apart slightly, his wife looked up at him with a soft smile. "I missed you," she said, her voice filled with tenderness. "And I've been waiting for that kiss all day."

Toto chuckled, his hands still resting on her waist. "Have you, now?" he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Were you thinking about me all day, Schatz?” "Of course I was," she replied, her eyes locked on his. "How could I not think about you when you left me wanting in the morning?" She pouted playfully, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. Toto chuckled again, feeling his heart swell at the expression on her face. "I'm sorry for leaving you wanting," he said, ducking his head to plant soft kisses along her jawline. "You know I couldn't help myself this morning. You're just so beautiful, especially now that you're pregnant." “Do you still want me now?” She asked quietly almost like a whisper. “I will always want you. Then, now, and forever” he said huskily.

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealous!reader, a bit of angst, fluff

summary: in which you don’t expect to feel so bothered seeing steve talk to another girl, but you do 

author's note: this was unfinished for months and i finally felt inspired to actually finish it thank god. i'm trying to slowly get back into writing stuff for this series so enjoy this for now<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

When you first heard about the party, you didn’t think too much about it because your Friday night plans were already settled. A simple movie night in your living room with Steve featuring some of the new arrivals that had just gotten to Family Video. However, you still nodded and said a quick, “Maybe I’ll check it out” to your college friend when she told you about her party and you got the address from her too out of niceness. 

It wasn’t until you half-mentioned the party to Robin as you picked through the new arrivals cart during the final hour of her and Steve’s shift that going actually became a possibility. 

“Wait, what? A party at a lake house sounds perfect. We have to go.”

Steve was quick to look up from the computer and shake his head at her words. “No way. We already have plans for the night, Robs.”

The eye roll he received in response was immediate. “You two can waste away on the couch any night you want. Tonight we should go to a party.”

You considered her words and nodded after a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Thank you,” She smiled at you before looking back at Steve. “And you need to remember that I’m only gonna be here for a few more weeks, so we need to do as much stupid shit as we can while I am still here.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her words. “Okay, you can’t keep using the college card like it’s an ‘I only have two weeks left to live’ card.”

“I second that,” Steve agreed. “Also, you keep making it seem like you’re going thousands of miles away. You’re only gonna be an hour away from here.”

“Yeah, well, still, things are changing,” She told you both. “And I wanna have fun before I leave.”

Fun ended up being an understatement. 

Barely an hour into the party she was drunk due to one too many cupfuls of whatever punch concoction had been thrown together and put in a big bowl in the kitchen. You and Steve shared one cup of the weirdly sweet drink and then decided to simply settle into the role of babysitting Robin. 

You both were currently lingering by a wall and watching as Robin danced with all of the other people crowded in the living room; you vaguely recognized the ABBA song playing. You made a mental note to tell her no if she came running over to you and Steve and proposed the idea of getting another drink. 

“This is your fault, you know,” Steve told you, leaning into your ear to be heard over the music. “If you didn’t mention the party to her earlier, you and I would be on the couch watching a movie and eating takeout from Third Street.” 

You gave him a sad look coupled with a pouty lip and he immediately felt bad, taking your look to heart. He quickly leaned in to apologetically kiss you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled against your lips. 

You were smiling as he pulled away. “You’re too easy.”

He immediately rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side, which made you laugh. “And you’re very evil.”

“Sorry, I had to,” You said and initiated the quick kiss that time around. “Anyway, yes, I know this is my fault and I’d kill to have Third Street right now, but look how happy she is.” You gestured in the direction of where Robin was in the packed living room, dancing with all of the other people who you were convinced were at least half-drunk, but you now couldn’t see her. “Wait, shit, where did she go?” 

Steve looked around for a second too and then let out a sigh when he also couldn’t spot her. Maybe you two weren’t the best babysitters after all. 

“Okay, I’ll check upstairs and you look around down here,” You said to him. “Oh, and maybe grab some water too. She’ll probably need it sooner rather than later.” 

Steve gave you a quick nod. “Okay.” 

You checked every room upstairs and instead of finding Robin you accidentally interrupted one too many couples making out. After quickly peeking into the last room and mumbling out another “Oops, sorry,” you headed back down the stairs, hoping Steve had better luck than you. You noticed him in the kitchen, two water bottles in hand, and talking to someone who wasn’t Robin but you immediately recognized. 

Vanessa. A girl who was in one of your classes last semester and had gone on a handful of dates with Steve at the end of last year. 

It was hard to decipher what they were talking about right then, but Steve had a small smile on his face and so did she. 

You couldn’t recognize why— or maybe you just refused to admit it right then— but you felt the sudden urge to insert yourself into the conversation; sidle up next to Steve, grab his hand and wrap his arm around you, kiss his cheek or simply plant one on his mouth. Essentially mark your territory for everyone, especially Vanessa, to see. But, you were way too sober to actually consider doing any of that, so you instead looked away from him and went back to searching for Robin.

You found her moments later, sitting on the chair swing on the front porch of the house. 

“Hey, Robs, what are you doing out here?” You asked softly as you sat down next to her, trying not to move the swing too much but that proved to be a lot harder than you thought.

Robin didn’t seem to mind, though. Her eyes were closed as she shrugged at your question. “Just wanted some fresh air.”

“Makes sense,” You nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Her eyes stayed shut as she answered you. “Sleepy, but at the same time I kinda wanna get another drink and dance some more.” 

“I’ll allow the dancing, but I need to be a good babysitter right now and say no more drinking.” 

She gave you a quick nod. “The logical side of me knows you’re right.” 

Things got quiet for a second and in that moment of quiet you thought about Steve and Vanessa in the kitchen. It seemed as if all your brain wanted to do right then was play that moment on repeat. You could inwardly admit that the conversation had looked completely innocent and probably quite literally meant nothing, but for some reason, it still bothered you.

“A part of me wishes I got drunk with you,” You said to Robin with a sigh and leaned back into the chair. 

She smiled at that and looked at you. “You definitely still can.” 

Before you could answer, you heard the front door open and subsequently close, and then Steve’s voice filled the brief quiet. “Good. You found her.” 

He handed one of the water bottles he was holding over to you. “I grabbed one for you too.” 

He the. placed the other bottle in Robin’s lap and she gave him a small smile. “Thanks, dingus.”  

If the circumstances were different and your thoughts weren’t confused and scattered, you would’ve shifted over a bit and made room for Steve on the small chair swing, and a random conversation would’ve played out for the next few minutes before you or he suggested leaving. But things weren’t different, so you didn’t.

Steve didn’t think too much of it, though. Instead, he simply asked, “Should we head out?”

You nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah.” 

He looked at Robin. “We’re taking you to our place, right?”

“Yes, please,” She answered, smiling. “You guys are great babysitters.”

She shut her eyes again and Steve looked at you, giving you a smile and you were quick to force one back. It was then that you could tell that he knew something was up with you because of the look he gave you in response to your forced smile, but he didn’t get to ask you what was going on because Robin was abruptly standing up and asking which way the car was. 

It wasn’t until you all were finally in Steve’s car and driving away from the party— Robin fell asleep in the backseat almost immediately— that he finally asked.

“What’s wrong?” 

You let the question linger in the air for a bit— keeping your eyes focused out the window and letting your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the zipper of your jacket— before you answered him. 

“I don’t know…” You mumbled with a shrug and then you sighed and shook your head. “Actually, I do know, but it’s dumb. It’s stupid.” 

His right hand moved off of the steering wheel and found one of yours. “You can tell me.”

You knew he was right, but that didn’t make being a thousand percent honest feel any easier in this moment. 

“Vanessa was at the party,” You ultimately said, figuring that would be the easiest way to start the conversation.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, we talked for a second.”

“Yeah, I saw,” You said and wanted to end the conversation there, but you knew that you couldn’t. “It kinda annoyed me a bit.” 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, taking a quick look at you.

“I don’t know…” You sighed again. “Just seeing you guys talking was a little annoying, I guess.”

Things got quiet for a second, and that managed to make you get even more inside your head. Maybe Steve thought you were insane or he was even mad at you for feeling this way. This was entirely unchartered territory between you two, so you weren’t entirely sure what his reaction would be. 

“Oh,” Steve said as if he was realizing something and then smiled a bit. “You were jealous.” 

You immediately rolled your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

You used your free hand to gesture to his face. “With that smile on your face.”

“I think it’s cute that you were jealous,” He told you, pulling your intertwined hands up to his lips so that he could kiss the back of yours.

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.”

“It really is,” Steve said and you decided not to protest him that time around, looking out the window again. 

“I love you, by the way,” He continued. “Just in case you forgot.” 

That managed to finally get a smile out of you.  

“I did forget, actually. Thank you for the reminder,” You joked and then turned to look at him. “I love you too.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Guiding a half-awake Robin from the car to your and Steve’s apartment was a feat in itself, but it somehow worked out. You two helped Robin into your bed instead of letting her take the couch and then you set a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand because you had a feeling she’d need it in the morning. 

You changed into your pajamas in Steve’s room, which simply consisted of a t-shirt that you had long ago stolen from Steve and a pair of shorts, and then both you and him settled into his bed. 

He had fallen asleep pretty quickly and you thought, or more so hoped, that you would find sleep easily too, but instead, you tossed and turned in bed because you couldn’t seem to shut off your mind. You weren’t entirely sure why you were still feeling a little sulky and weird about everything— Steve didn’t care and he wasn’t upset with you for feeling jealous— but there was something still nagging at the back of your head about the whole thing.

“I know what you’re thinking right now,” You heard Steve sleepily mumble after what felt like an hour of you trying but failing to force yourself to sleep but it was probably only twenty minutes. His arm circled around your waist and he pulled you back against him. “And you should stop it.” 

The fact that he could easily read your mind wasn’t surprising and it was probably the only thing that made you feel a little bit okay and made you want to at least attempt to verbalize the thoughts that had been running through your head. 

“I just hate being like this. It feels so— I don’t know…” You were then squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your face into the pillow as you admitted, “When I saw you and her talking I really wanted to just go up and kiss you in front of her, so that she knew that we’re together and you’re mine.”

“Mm, you should’ve done that,” He mumbled into your neck. “That would’ve been really hot.”  

You finally turned on your side to face him. “Shut up. I don’t know why I just admitted that, honestly. I told you this was stupid.” 

“Don't feel embarrassed about it,” He said, somehow managing to sum it all up perfectly; you were feeling embarrassed. “This happens to me all the time.” 

You laughed a little. “You don’t have to lie to try and make me feel better about how dumb I'm being.”

“I’m serious,” He told you. “Remember last Thursday when you came to Family Video during the last hour of mine and Robin’s shift?”

When you gave him a quick nod in response, he continued. “I was so annoyed watching you talk to that one guy.”

At first, you weren’t sure what guy he was talking about, but then it hit you. It had been the all too familiar situation where someone thought that you also worked at the store because you were the only one standing behind the counter since both Robin and Steve were stocking shelves. But even after you told this guy that you actually didn’t work there, he kept the conversation going and you laughed and smiled along for a bit to be nice before making up some excuse and retreating to the break room for the rest of Steve and Robin’s shift. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t seem annoyed at all, and we didn’t even talk about it.”

“Yeah, because for like two minutes I felt jealous, but then I remembered that I’m the one you’re with and nothing could change that— especially not some random blonde guy— so…” Steve trailed off with a shrug and smile.  

As if flicking a light switch, his words changed everything for you. Once again, he was right; there was nothing that could change what you two had. 

“And just so you know,” He continued, voice soft and quiet. “I always feel embarrassed and stupid about it after it happens too.”

You were smiling as you kissed him then, closing the small bit of distance between you two and finding his lips in the darkness that consumed his room. 

“I can’t believe you’re turning out to be the rational one out of the two of us,” You joked when you pulled back from the kiss and proceeded to bury your face into his neck and completely entangle your body with his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” He whispered back and pressed the softest kiss to your shoulder before he started to pull away from you. You immediately pouted at him in protest but he continued, pulling the blanket off of both of you and getting out of bed. “It’s only midnight. Let’s do what we were actually supposed to do tonight.”

Hearing him say that made you follow suit and get out of bed too, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Movies and Third Street?”

Steve was nodding as he walked over to you, arms slipping around your waist and pulling you close to him. “Yup.”

“That’s a great idea,” You whispered, looking up at him. “But, no funny business on the couch, though. The walls are way too thin and we’ll never hear the end of it from Robin if she hears anything.”

“Okay,” Steve said, and then proceeded to kiss your forehead and then both of your cheeks and then your neck; all of which made you softly laugh. “Sorry, just needed to get those out of the way first.”

You gave him an understanding nod that you hoped looked as serious as you wanted it to be, but there was a wide smile on your face as you spoke. “Okay, yeah, makes sense.”

He gave you one final kiss, that time against your lips, and then he was pulling away from you and heading toward his shut door. Your arms circled around him from behind as you followed him out into the living room. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[masonmontz]

notes: hellooo everyone :) so, recently i haven't been very inspired to write but i have a lot of unfinished things. i decided to post this story (which is not ready yet) in two parts and maybe with that i can get some inspiration to finish it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst word count: 4,5k

PART 2 • BONUS

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

2 years ago

“That was really good.” Mason said, laying down beside you, panting and sweaty. He still seemed a little drunk, and you were a little dizzy too, but you were panting just as much as he was. 

“I know.” You spoke softly, closing your eyes and feeling sleepy. You and Mason had been in his hotel room for over three hours, you had met at a nightclub, you were with your friends and Mason was with some of his friends, friends you had never seen before. He came to you to talk, bought you drinks and before you knew it, you were kissing him in the hotel hallways, not caring if anyone would see you. 

Mason came closer and pulled you against him, and you didn't care that you barely knew him, you were too tired to care, so when Mason caressed you, you slowly fell asleep without even realizing it.

You woke up scared and not knowing where you were, but when you heard breathing next to you, you remembered that you had met Mason and accepted his invitation for you to go to the hotel where he was staying. He was sleeping and you picked up your phone to check the time, and when you realized that if you didn't leave now you would be late for work, you found a notepad on the bedroom table and wrote down your number and name, hoping that Mason would contact you.

You put on your clothes and left, taking one last look at Mason before closing the door. You just didn't realize that when you closed the door, the wind made the paper fly away, where Mason would never find it.

⊹

Mason heard the alarm clock and woke up, putting his arm on the side of the bed, but only felt emptiness. He opened his eyes and saw that you were already gone, so he looked around the room to see if you had left anything, but he found nothing. Not even a phone number or your full name.

He had no idea how to get in touch with you, but now he needed to pack his things and go home, since Chelsea's party was at the hotel and the players got rooms and Mason and the lads had fun somewhere else that night.

Mason would really like to meet you again, but he was upset that you left after you had sex with him like it was nothing. It had been a while since Mason had met such a nice girl.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“I'm dating someone.” Candice said when you took a sip of coffee, and you almost spat out what was in your mouth in shock.

“What? Since when?” 

“I told you I was meeting someone, and I'm so in love with him, I think I found my person.” She said with sparkling eyes, and you smiled at her, knowing that Candice is a romantic and really wanted to find someone to share her life with. “His name is Woody, he is so kind and funny.”

“Woody? Is he a character from Toy Story?” You spoke and laughed, but soon stopped laughing when Candice looked at you seriously. “Sorry, I couldn't help it.”

“Yes, Chandler Bing, I know.” She ate some of the pie she had ordered, you were at the mall for an afternoon coffee after some shopping. You were on break from the bookstore where you worked and managed to enjoy it with your friend who you hadn't seen in a few days. “I want you to meet him. And his name is Nathan” 

“I would love to, I'm happy for you.” You smiled and reached out your hand to hers, squeezing it lightly. 

“He has some friends, I think I could introduce some of them to you.” You rolled your eyes, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop Candice from introducing you to someone. Candice likes to date, and she likes to see everyone in love.

“What's his friend's name? Buzz?” You asked, holding back a laugh, but you could tell Candice wanted to laugh too. 

“Stop making jokes about this, it's not funny.” She scolded you. “Whatever, I met two of his friends and they're great, I think you'll get along with them too. Woody invited me to a party next week, so you're going with me and you'll meet him.” 

“Do I have the option to say no?”

“No.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“First, can you tell me exactly what we're doing here?” You asked Candice as she took you to a place you hadn't been to in years ‘cause it was dirty, disorganized, and smelled bad. “This neighborhood smells like rotten food.” 

You brought your hand to your nose, not wanting to smell the street.

“Please stop complaining for a minute.” Candice pulled you by the hand and made you take your hand off your nose. “We're going to a cool place, it's new and Woody and his friends love it.”

“They are men, they don't care about the dirt on the street, of course they like it.” You rolled your eyes, trying to balance yourself in your high heels as you walked alongside Candice, who was walking down the street as if she frequented that neighborhood every day. “Why didn't your boyfriend pick us up?”

“Oh, may I remind you that you said we should take an Uber?” You stayed quiet, knowing she was right and you were the one who didn't accept the ride. “We arrived.”

“How the fuck did they find this place?” Candice took a key out of her purse and opened the door, leaving you surprised that the door was locked. “Are you trying to kill me? I have to work early tomorrow, you know.”

“Shut up, Y/N.” Candice held the door for you and you could hear laughter and music, but it didn't sound like a party. “They are up there.” 

“I feel like I'm not wearing the right clothes.” You spoke as you looked at the short skirt you were wearing and the heels, and Candice was wearing pants and heeled boots. 

“You look beautiful, you need to show those tanned legs to the guys.” She said as you walked up the stairs. The sound got louder, and when you got there, you saw about fifteen people, some standing, some sitting on the couch, and… Well, the guy who never called you back. 

You froze when you saw him leaning against a wall talking to a guy who looked like Candice's boyfriend and two other men, they were laughing about something the taller one was saying.

Candice looked around and said hi to a few people, pulling you with her to where Woody was. One of the guys nodded at you and her boyfriend turned around, as did Mason, who widened his eyes when he saw you, not caring about your friend in front of him. 

Of course, he didn't expect to see the girl he just fucked and pretended didn't exist.

Asshole. 

You were silent as Woody approached Candice and kissed her, hugging her and smiling, and you noticed that she melted like butter when he touched her. 

“Hi, princess.” You heard him say and smiled, then Candice turned to you to introduce you to Woody. 

“Babe, this is Y/N, my best friend.” Candice said and Woody looked at you, so you smiled at him and gave him a little hug.

“The famous one. I’m Woody, nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you too, I heard a lot about you.” You were aware that the three men behind Woody were looking at you, but you tried to ignore it.

“Candice already knows the guys, but I'll introduce you to them.” Woody didn't let go of Candice's hand, but he still pointed to the three men with him. “They are my best friends. This is Declan.”

You greeted him, who was the tallest, with a small hug as well. Then Ben and finally Mason. But you didn't hug him, who was also looking at you seriously, and just said a little hi to him. If you could, you would throw something at his head just for being an idiot. 

“Hi.” You spoke and faked a smile, which Candice would definitely notice, because she knows you better than you know yourself. “Nice to meet you, Mason.” 

You emphasized his name, and he barely smiled in your direction before faking a smile. 

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.” The tension was visible and Candice, Woody, Declan and Ben were staring at the two of you without saying anything, so you turned and smiled at your friend.

Candice shrugged and Woody led the two of you to the small bar, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer for each of you. Candice pulled you to the side and grabbed your arm, making you stop in front of her.

“What was that? Why did you talk to Mason like that?” 

“Oh, you know that jerk who never called me back and was the best sex I ever had? Well, let me introduce you, that man was Mason.”

“What? No way.” Her mouth was open. “But he is so nice, he would never do that. He is very kind.” 

“Candice, I'm your friend, stop defending him.” You frowned when Candice complimented him. 

“How did you not know who he was? He’s famous.” 

“What?”

“He's a football player, and so is Declan and Ben. Mason plays for Chelsea FC.” 

“I know as much about football as I know about chemistry, nothing.” You rolled your eyes, now it was explained why he never called you. “I was so stupid, oh my God. I really thought he would call me, we had sex like four times in one night.”

“Wow, I don’t wanna hear the details, please.” 

“Whatever, he is an asshole, and I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Who’s an asshole?” Woody approached, and you got embarrassed ‘cause you were talking about his stupid friend.

“Just a guy I know from work.” You smiled at him. 

“We're going to play beer pong, wanna join?” 

“Sure.” 

In fact, they were funny. There were three other girls present and they were also funny and joined in the game with you. You and Mason hadn't exchanged a word, and you were doing a pretty good job of pretending he wasn't there.

It had been more than ten months since you met, and to tell the truth, what irritated you about him not calling you was that he spent that night saying that you two would get along really well, that he wanted to see you again, and would take you out to dinner, but he ignored you as if you were nothing. 

You weren't in love with him, but just a warning from him saying he wasn't interested would have been great.

When you got tired of the game, you walked back to the fridge and grabbed another beer, just to have something to hold in your hand. It was late and you need to go home soon, or you wouldn't be able to wake up for work tomorrow. 

And unfortunately, Mason came close.

He didn't say anything, but he gave you a few looks that irritated you.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, ironically.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Didn't you get tired of being an idiot once?”

“What? Was I an idiot? Can you remind me why, exactly?”

“Don't play dumb.” 

“Why are you treating me like that?”

“The only thing I know is that you acted like a jerk, I'm sorry I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Fine by me, I don't need someone being rude to me for nothing.” Mason spoke and left, so you walked up to Candice and told her you were leaving. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“So, do you know Y/N?” Declan asked Mason when they were leaving, and Mason locked the door behind him. It was a kind of shed that they decided to rent to create a space for games and fun, so they tried to meet there most of the time, away from people and cameras. It was a safe place for their circle of friends. 

“Yes, remember that woman I told you I met at that party in Chelsea? She disappeared like a speck of dust, didn't leave a number, a name, nothing. And she was so fucking rude to me like I had done something wrong.”

“And can you understand women, bro? ‘Cause I can't.” Declan laughed. “Wait, was she the woman you had sex with “I don't know how many times” in one night?”

“Yes.” 

“Well, she’s beautiful and I can understand why you got so upset because she didn't leave her number.” Mason shrugged, remembering how stupid you were to him. “You can ask Candice for her number.”

“Only if I lost my mind, Dec. That woman is crazy and I don't want anything to do with her.”

“Even though it was the best sex you've ever had?”

“Shut up.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Time passed and Candice and Woody's relationship became more and more serious, and it was great for them, but you had to see Mason more than you would have liked. Weekly meetings became common in their shed and you became friends with all of them, you loved to play and laugh and especially, you loved the days when Mason couldn't go because of the matches, so you didn't have to look at that beautiful and stupid face.

Whenever you were in the same place, you exchanged indirect messages and argued over silly reasons, making everyone tired of your fights, because you were both already adults and not two teenagers. 

But every time you weren't arguing, you remembered the night you spent with Mason.  It was so hot, so good, that you get goosebumps when you remember it. No man had ever managed to leave you the way he had, and that left you frustrated. 

“Talk to him, you can work this out.” 

“Talk to her, Mason, maybe she doesn't remember that she didn't leave her number.”

“He's cool, you guys can get along if you try.”

“She's your type Mason, you guys would make a great couple.”

And the answer is always no. 

You pulled your coat tighter as you walked down the freezing street towards the shed, wanting to get there quickly to warm up. Candice said that she and Woody would be arriving later because they were going to the market to buy some things, so you decided to take an Uber there.

You didn't have the key, so you pressed the doorbell and waited for one of them to answer. It was almost December and very cold, and even with layers of clothing, you were still freezing.

The door opened and you rolled your eyes when Mason opened it. Of course. 

“Hey.” You spoke and walked past him, quickly going up the stairs, but realizing that there was still no one there. “Where’s everybody?” 

“Let me see… not here.” He spoke and pulled out his pants pocket to pretend he was looking for someone. “Let me look in the fridge.”

“Asshole.” You spoke and sat on the comfortable couch, and Mason sat on another couch in front of you, not paying attention to you. He was messing with his cell phone and that made you angry.

“Well, I see you have a phone.” You spoke and Mason looked at you bored. 

“Yes, it is a new item in the 21st century.” He spoke mockingly. 

“You must call several women, how do you feel about that?” You teased him, and it was fun because Mason always got mad at you.

“Well, I didn't call you.” 

You deserved it. But this just showed that Mason is a jerk and the worst kind, the typical football player. 

“How can you look in the mirror and not hate yourself?” You spoke softly, but Mason heard and that was the spark needed to explode.

“What’s wrong with you, Y/N? Don't you get tired of being a bitch?” Mason exploded and stood up, throwing his phone on the couch and glaring at you. “Grow up, you're not fifteen anymore.”

“Who do you think you are to tell me to grow up?” You yelled at Mason and walked up to him, facing him face to face. “You fuck a different women every day, aren't you ashamed of it? Of making them look like idiots?”

“You don't know anything about my life, you don't know anything about what I do and who I sleep with.” Mason put his hands on his face, nervous. You were just as angry as he was, ‘cause you couldn't deal with everything you felt for him. Anger, resentment, boredom.

“Good thing, because you think you're the center of the world and you think you have the right to treat others as if they were nothing.” Angrily, you turned away, but Mason grabbed your wrist, making you turn to him once more before he let go of you.

“Stop talking shit, you're crazy, Y/N.” Mason spoke and glared at you, and you were so angry that you just wanted to leave and leave him behind. You didn't say anything as you continued to stare at him, you were panting from the screams and... when you realized it you and Mason were kissing.

You don't know who took the first step, but everything happened so fast that you didn't understand anything anymore. You brought your hands to Mason's neck, pulling him against you, and Mason pulled you by the waist, pressing you against his body as his tongue slid across yours.

The kiss reminded you of the night you met, and you remembered how much you had enjoyed his kisses. You didn't walk away, and neither did Mason. You were so desperate, there were months of fights, indirect messages, tension, everything exploded in a single kiss.

You pushed Mason by the chest and he fell onto the couch, looking at you scared, but you climbed on top of him and fitted your hips against his, pulling him in for another kiss. It was just a kiss, what's wrong with that? 

Mason sighed and reached behind his back, opening your coat and taking it off. You were still wearing your jeans and high-heeled boots, the tight, warm white blouse left Mason free to see your curves. Mason used to get annoyed that you were so pretty and so, so cheeky with him. 

He was wearing a sweater, and Mason had his hair in a buzzcut so you hated that he was so attractive when he was such a jerk. 

Mason brought a hand to your thigh and squeezed, and you sighed when you felt his bulge against you, and all the cold you were feeling disappeared. You put your hands under Mason's sweater and felt his warm abdomen, then you ran your nails down hard and felt Mason twitch. 

“Don’t do that.” He spoke between the kiss, and you did it again, on purpose, and pushed his shirt up.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” You bit Mason's lip and grinded against his hips, sighing. It was crazy to want Mason so much, he drove you crazy and made you act like a sullen child. In fact, you didn't know you wanted him so much until now.

You heard a laugh and let go of Mason, then realized the others must have arrived. He looked at you in panic and you didn't know what to do, but you quickly got off Mason and ran to the small kitchen, trying to fix your face and hair. Mason got up quickly and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

As you sat down in a chair, Candice appeared with Woody behind her, then Reece, Ben, Lauren, Declan and Lily. You smiled at them and took a sip of water, hoping no one would notice anything.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Candice waved and walked over to you, hugging you. “How did you get in?”

“What? Uh, Mason is here.” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing some beers for them and trying to divert their attention away from you, but when you turned around, everyone was staring at you strangely. “What?” 

“Did you kill him or something like that?” Woody asked, looking really worried. 

“He's in the bathroom, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, and at the same moment the bathroom door opened and Mason came out smiling at everyone, who almost sighed in relief when they saw that you two didn't kill each other. 

“Thank God.” Declan placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes, and you shook your head at his reaction. “For a moment I thought my son would be left without a godfather.”

“What?” Mason asked blankly, but Declan shrugged.

Ben put the pizzas on the table and soon you were all eating, and for the first time you felt Mason's presence, unlike the other times when you ignored him. 

Oh my God, you kissed Mason.

And because you wanted to.

And if no one else came, you would probably have fucked him.

You choked on a piece of pizza because of your own thoughts, you started coughing and before you knew it, Declan was patting your back for you to breathe again. When you managed to breathe, you glared at him.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” 

If they thought it was strange that you and Mason weren't fighting, no one said anything. After eating, you went to play some games as usual and chat. You got up to get water once more, and when you were coming back you passed behind the couch where Mason and Ben were sitting talking, but you weren't surprised to see Mason showing Ben a picture of a woman.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

And you kissed him, you almost wanted to scream in anger at yourself. 

“Let's play truth or dare?” Woody asked for everyone and Candice seemed the most excited. It was her favorite game. “C’mon c’mon.” 

You sat in a circle on the carpet, Candice spun the bottle for the first time. Lauren asked Ben who the last woman he had sex with was (Someone called Rita). Lily asked Candice how many guys she's slept with (Woody wasn't happy with the question - the answer is eight). Mason asked Lily what's the weirdest place she's ever had sex (in the college bathroom). 

“Y/N… Let me see…” Declan is thinking too much, to be honest. “Have you ever had sex with anyone from this group?” 

You could jump on his neck and strangle him, but you'd go to jail and Jude would be left fatherless. He gave a fake smile, and then you realized he knew about you and Mason. Of course, Mason is his best friend.

“I would like to say no, but yes.” Declan smiled, Candice's eyes widened and the others realized that you and Mason had already had sex, because he was looking at you with a not so happy face. 

You spun the bottle, and of course things didn't end there. It was Mason's turn to ask you a question. He gave you a mocking smile and thought before asking.

“Y/N… Why did you tell everyone that you didn't want to have sex with me when you screamed my name all night?” 

It wasn't possible. He can't be that much of a jerk.

Tears came to your eyes, but not of sadness, but of anger.

“Wow Mason, why didn't I think of this before? Let me see… I only had sex with you because I didn't know you, but if I had known you I would never have done anything, ‘cause you are a trash person.”

You got up and grabbed your coat and cell phone, not paying attention to them, who were calling you to come back.

“Go, run away like you did the first time.” Mason snapped. “It's the only thing you know how to do well besides lying.” Mason walked past you and quickly down the stairs, leaving you standing there watching him go. 

You followed him down the stairs.

“How can you be so stupid and not realize it? Am I lying? You're the one who pretended you never had sex with me.” You yelled, and Mason opened the door walking to the sidewalk, but you followed after him as he walked towards his car. “Don't be a coward, own up to what you did.”

Mason stopped walking and turned his back to you, and you could tell he was trying to control his breathing. 

“I don't have the strength for this anymore, Y/N. Leave me alone.” He spoke, without turning around.

“Don’t. Be. A. Coward.” 

Mason turned around, and his face was pure hatred.

“What do you want from me?” He yelled, and you backed away. Mason raised his hands, trying to understand why you were there. “You know how much I liked you when we first met and you never gave me a chance, now you think you have the right to call me a liar and say you never wanted to sleep with me and embarrass me in front of my friends? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You're my problem, Mason.” You yelled at him, feeling anger throughout your body. You pointed your finger at him. “You promised me a thousand things and never called me, you treated me as if I were any of the women you spent a night with, you deceived me and still laughed at me after that.”

“How am I supposed to call someone who never left a number or a full name?” He shouted, and you saw that some people passing by heard everything you were saying. “You went away and left me alone, don't treat me like the culprit since it was your choice.”

Mason turned his back and walked to his car, but you stood there, just watching him drive away. 

“What?” Why couldn't you understand each other? Why did he keep lying? “I left my number and name on a piece of paper on the desk, stop lying to me for a minute, Mason.”

“You think I didn't want to call? I thought about it for weeks, months, until I finally accepted that you didn't leave your number because you didn't want to. I'm not a genius, I had no way of finding you.” 

“But I did.” You insisted with him, and Mason huffed, putting his hand to his face, taking a deep breath. “I waited for your call for days, and you never called.”

“It doesn't matter now, Y/N. I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore after all the hell you put me through this year.”

“Mason…” You called out to him, but Mason got in the car and drove off, leaving you alone on the sidewalk, just you and your guilt.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

[hannyoontify]

little stars - kwon soonyoung

member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader

genre | fluff, newly est. relationship

word count | 2k with some change

synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before

warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference

notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful

Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.

(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)

So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.

It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 

He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 

“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 

In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.

The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 

While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.

Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.

“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 

You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.

Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”

You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”

Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 

“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.

“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.

(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)

Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.

You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 

“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 

Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”

Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 

“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”

“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”

He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 

You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.

“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”

You snorted. 

“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.

“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”

“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”

“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.

Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”

His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.

Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”

“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.

You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 

Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.

You thought your heart was about to burst. 

Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 

Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 

After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”

Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”

Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 

You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love

“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 

Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 

“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?

“I love you.”

Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 

You did. 

“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”

“Hm?”

“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

[nyxronomicon]

pudding

Diavolo x MC (GN pronouns / MC has a vagina)

a/n: I wrote most of this shortly after reading the lunatic pudding devilgram in the OG!OM app. in fact I distinctly remember getting stuck on the sex part bc i didn't really write smut yet... look at how far I've come lmao <- exclusively writes smut now

tw: breeding kink, aphrodisiac, size kink (Diavolo's big cock once again), mating press, rough sex, Diavolo goes a lil feral, a little bit of nipple play, fingering, oral (MC receiving)

-

The adrenaline from running from demons all afternoon wore off as you and Diavolo settled in his room. He’d locked the door behind himself before turning around to face you. 

"That was quite the chase." He said, keeping his distance from you now that you were in private together.

"I can't believe how potent one bite of lunatic pudding was." You responded, shaking a little. You looked at Diavolo, remembering he's not immune. "What about you, not feeling very romantic?" You smirked.

Diavolo chuckled. "Don't test me. I'm at my limits of self restraint." He smiled nervously. He fidgeted a moment, realizing he needed to protect you until the effects wore off. Even across the room your scent became harder to resist with every passing second. And he still had 23 hours to go.

"Thank you, Lord Diavolo." You took a seat on his couch. 

"It's no trouble at all." Diavolo responded, stepping closer to you. You watched him carefully, there was something different about him, as if the royal facade was gone and he was himself. Come to think of it, this was the first time you were alone with him. "I need to freshen up- don't hesitate to call if anything happens." Diavolo stepped into the master bathroom as you nodded back to him.

23 more hours. It was all you could think about. Your secret crush on the prince had your heart racing at the possibilities. What were you going to do for 23 hours in Diavolo's bedroom…? You knew exactly what was on his mind. It was on yours too, if you were being honest, but you didn’t want him to do anything he would regret with you. So, you busied yourself thinking of something to distract him.

"Want to listen to music?" You smiled, pulling him out of his dark fantasies. "If you close your eyes maybe it'll keep your mind off- uh…"

Meanwhile, Diavolo splashed water on his face. His thoughts raced as he looked at himself in the mirror. I have to control myself. I can’t succumb to my desires. How would it look if I took advantage of an exchange student? He shook his head as if that would cure his sinful thoughts and exited the bathroom.

His resolve shattered the moment he saw you again, his mind stuck on how easy it would be to overpower you, a mere human.

He chuckled at your hesitation. "The intense attraction I have for you?" He said, sitting on one of the accent chairs on either side of the couch. Diavolo had his doubts about your plan, mostly because it was your intoxicating scent that was giving him the most trouble. 

Your face felt flush. "Uh, yeah…" you laughed nervously. "I'll play something. Stay there."

"I'm not one of those brothers you can command, you know." He smiled, watching you move as you flipped through his vinyls. "But if you wanted to-" he caught himself and stopped, blush dusting his cheeks. You looked back at him, catching his golden eyes for a moment before he looked away.

"If I wanted to… what?" You gave him a coy smile before turning back to the records. You were surprised to find your favorite musician in his collection and put it on the player.

"Ignore me, that was the pudding…" he said, still blushing as the record began to play.

"Close your eyes." You commanded, testing his unfinished words. He looked at you a moment before closing his eyes with a soft smile.

"I'm not doing this because you told me to." Diavolo clarified. "I'm doing this because I want to know if it helps." He remained frozen in his seat. 

You quietly walked closer to him and admired the handsome demon. Your eyes trailed from his jawline down his neck. His well tailored uniform left a lot to your imagination but you had plenty of time to undress him with your eyes. 23 hours, to be exact. You leaned on the side of the couch closest to Diavolo as you studied his strong hands. You could practically feel them running up and down your body.

As the first song ended, Diavolo's eyes slowly opened and caught you looking at him. "I thought you came closer." He had a darker intensity to him. "I hope you weren't thinking about trying anything."

"Why, were you?" You shot back at him with a grin, matching his intensity. 

He smiled and buried his face in his hand. "Of course I was. I still am." His face remained in his palm. The record continued to play as the two of you paused, afraid to say what was on your minds.

"What if…" you hesitated, knowing this was not something you could take back after saying it. "What if… I want you to try something?" Diavolo's fingers clawed into his hair, keeping his face hidden. 

When he didn’t respond, you spoke again. “Diavolo… I… have a crush on you.” He chuckled before a brief pause, the weight of your words heavy in the air.

"The truth is…" he began, "I had trouble resisting you without the pudding." Heat rushed to your face as he peeked at you through his fingers. You stared at each other with desire. “You’re making this very hard for me…”

Diavolo took a deep breath. His mind was screaming at him to fuck you. He knew he could overpower you, it was all he could think about. And now, it seemed that was exactly what you wanted. But he couldn’t shake the thought of how improper it would be. He stood and turned to walk to the balcony for some fresh air, stopped by your hand catching his wrist. 

He froze. He wanted you so bad. There was no telling how much of it was his natural attraction to you and how much was the pudding’s effect, but Diavolo’s thoughts were consumed with you. How he wanted his hands on your body. His teeth on your skin. And god, what he would give to fill you with his cum so thoroughly that you’d carry his heir… 

These thoughts had occurred to him in passing, he’d even jerked off to the idea before but this was so much different. He could normally distract himself, but everything that came to mind was you. He needed to fuck you. Maybe that was the answer- maybe it would dull the pudding’s effect. 

He felt his eyes darken with desire, desperately attempting to calm himself down. 

The two of you were frozen there for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, his fingers loosened and slowly intertwined with yours. He turned around, you could see the darkness in his champagne eyes. He looked demonic. He suddenly pulled you toward him until your faces were inches from each other. His free hand trailed up your arm at a glacial pace. It gave you goosebumps. Finally, it settled on your cheek.

"Is it ok if I stop restraining myself?" He whispered, lips brushing against yours as he waited for a response. You could tell his muscles were tense, like this gentleness was taking all of his self control to maintain.

"... yes-" you barely had time to finish saying the word before his lips crashed into yours. He was ravenous. His tongue grazed your lips and you parted them, allowing him to explore your mouth. It was electric. He dropped your hand and suddenly pulled you tightly against him by the hips, his other hand remaining on your jaw. He deepened the kiss and you lost yourself in a haze of desire, hands gripping his uniform. 

He slowed his movements and hesitated before pulling away. His fiery gaze met yours, still gripping you tightly. “... fuck.” He mumbled before dropping his head to your shoulder. He nuzzled you for a moment before gently kissing your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…” His voice was low and sultry. “One bite of pudding... and I’ve completely lost control…” He peppered kisses on your neck between thoughts. “I wonder…” He started slowly unbuttoning your uniform. “What will my subjects think?”

Heat rose in your body as he continued to unbutton. “Do they have to know?” You whispered. Diavolo did not respond as he pushed your shirt open, exposing your chest. He sucked on your collarbone to leave his mark while running his hands over your torso. 

When he was satisfied with the bruise left, he brought his lips to your ear. “I guess not.” He whispered then sucked on your earlobe. You let out a moan which made him chuckle. “I love that sound…” He said, nuzzling into you again. He pulled away and swept you into his arms to carry you to his bed. He sat you on the edge and admired you for a moment. “Are you sure this is ok?” He asked, lust burning in his eyes.

“I want you, Diavolo.” You responded, finally slipping your uniform jacket off. Diavolo helped you remove your top completely and pushed you back onto the bed. He crawled on top of you, pinning your hands down with his as he locked you in another kiss. He was needy and desperate, it seemed the effects of the pudding were only getting more intense. 

Diavolo sat up and urgently began unbuttoning his shirt. You tried to sit up with him but he pushed you back down. 

“Don’t move.” He said, removing his shirt and undershirt revealing his muscles. He leaned over you again, caging you against the bed. One hand drifted to your neck, holding it firmly as he tangled his tongue with yours again. You trailed your fingers along his bare chest, pinching his nipples as he groaned in response.

“Two can play at that game.” He growled, trailing kisses down your chest until he reached a nipple. He flicked it with his tongue, watching it harden before enclosing his lips around it. You moaned and bucked your hips. As Diavolo’s mouth worked your nipple, his fingers rubbed your arousal through your pants. He unfastened them as he trailed kisses further down. Diavolo looked up at you for a moment, his golden eyes looking into yours as he removed your pants. He bit his lip as if asking for permission. You gave him a silent nod.

Diavolo started rubbing your pussy, simultaneously appreciating its beauty. You leaned your head back and quietly moaned. This encouraged him to use his mouth to pleasure you, pressing his tongue against your clit. As Diavolo slipped his fingers in your cunt, your moaning became louder and more erratic. He was stretching you to fit his throbbing cock.

“Diavolo… feels so good…” You moaned. He allowed himself to be rougher, gripping your hips to keep you from squirming in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your clit and he could feel your walls shudder around his fingers, your wet pussy nearly ready for his length. He stuck another finger in for good measure, finding your g-spot as you moaned his name. 

His fingers slid out and he smirked at you. “My turn.” He said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stood, tugging you by the legs to the edge of the bed. You watched as he removed his belt, then his pants, then his boxers. His huge cock sprung up, eager to feel you.

Diavolo positioned your ankles on his shoulders as he lined himself up with your pussy. You felt the tip slowly push in, your body adjusting to his size. You could feel the stretch- it was a tight fit, but as he bottomed out inside you, it made you feel so satisfyingly full.

“So big…” You murmured.

“You like that, hm?” He chuckled, leaning over you and folding you into a mating press. He began to thrust, the friction reminding you of how good he was making you feel earlier. Moans dripped from your lips as his pace increased. Diavolo’s last shreds of self-control had disappeared, he was now fucking you completely recklessly. 

“Fuck… Dia…” You panted, feeling your cunt tighten around him as he continued.

“Gonna… put a baby in you…” He growled, capturing you in a rough kiss as your knees hit your chest. His cock was pounding you so hard, all you could do was whimper as his tongue slid into your mouth. The effects of the pudding made Diavolo forget all about your pleasure, his relentless pace quickening as he neared his orgasm. 

“Been waiting for this… so long…” Diavolo mumbled, each thrust of his hips threatening to push you over the edge. “Want to breed you… Make you mine…” His dick rammed into your g-spot so precisely, finally you felt the wave of pleasure shooting through your body. You felt yourself tighten around him, shockwaves of ecstasy turning you into a blubbering mess as his orgasm followed shortly after.

Diavolo growled and moaned. You could feel the cum filling you, the added pressure in your cunt only sending more aftershocks through you. He thrust a few more times, cum sputtering out in waves as you both came down from your high. Breathing heavily, you pushed his sweaty bangs out of his face as his gaze lost the demonic aura he had moments before. 

You were slow to catch your breath, Diavolo unmoving on top of you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his cock still lodged inside you. You ran your fingers through his hair. 

“I’m afraid that didn’t help.” Diavolo sighed after a long pause. “I want you even more now.” You felt his cock twitch inside you, still rock hard. 

“Well,” You smirked. “We still have 22 hours to kill.” 

[reidsexual]

Forgotten II

It’s taking everything in you not to focus on the latest news circling Gotham. But everywhere you turn, there it is.

“Just in: Nightwing returns!”

“Nightwing reportedly seen battling against infamous KGBeast!”

“Peacemaker of the Night strikes back!”

So here you were - grabbing some coffee despite the late hour and the chilling breeze that accompanied it. You knew Dick wouldn’t approve, as Bludhaven wasn’t exactly known for its harmless background.

But who cares? He wasn’t here now.

Truth be told, you wanted to see Dick. Scratch that, that was an understatement. You were aching to see him.

But the questionability of the entire situation much outweighed that of your desire to speak to him again. How much of his life does he remember? Does he even want to see you? What would you say to him?

You take a sip of your coffee to calm your thoughts, the glow of the streetlights only enhancing the posters stuck on the walls. All of which were about Nightwing’s latest spectacle with KGBeast in Bludhaven.

You don’t even catch yourself staring until you feel your phone vibrate against your pocket. You peel your attention away from all the candid shots and bold words to look at the caller.

It’s Donna.

You pick up, holding the phone to your ear while simultaneously walking down the road. “Donna?” You speak her name, wondering to yourself why she’s calling out of the blue.

“Have you visited Dick?” She asks, cutting to the chase. You sigh dramatically, seeing your breath hang around in the air from the coolness of the weather.

“No.” Replying simply. It’s probably better to keep your words short and simple.

“No? Or not yet?” Garth butts in, taking you by surprise. You slap a hand on your forehead. Of course Garth is listening in.

“Garth.” Donna warns, and you can practically feel the seriousness of the stare she shoots at him.

“We’re not rushing you. Take as much time as you need to adjust. It can’t possibly be easy, trust me, I know.” Your friend reassures you, warming your heart quite a bit. At times like this, you were grateful to have a friend who understood you so well.

“I know. I know.” It’s been hard for you to focus on how you felt, especially since you didn’t want to give much thought to how devastated you were when Dick lost his memories.

You should be jumping with joy, but you feel so numb. So empty. And what scares you is the fact that you don’t know where it’s coming from.

“You still there?” Donna checks in after a long pause, finding your silence quite unnerving.

“Thank you for checking in, Donna. Garth too.” And with that, you hang up the phone. You toss your unfinished coffee into the nearest trash bin and put your head in your hands. You don’t even like coffee.

You almost curse out loud when you see the words written in spray paint right above the bin. “Bludhaven is safe again! Long live, Nightwing!” It reads, with a drawing of his symbol right next to it.

Your eyes slide to the picture pasted below, barely handing on with a measly piece of tape. Your eyes mist over, a shot of Dick as Nightwing staring back at you.

“Handsome guy.” A familiar voice says, and you can feel your body immediately stiffen up. You can’t turn around. You shouldn’t. But your emotions get the better of you.

Your gaze shifts sideways and there he is. Dick Grayson. Not Ric or Nightwing.

“Dick?” You whisper uncertainly. He puts his hands up sarcastically, though his gaze on you remains intent and soft. “Caught me.”

The back of your eyes prickle and you can feel your throat start to close up. But you can’t cry in front of him - not when this is his first time seeing you after everything.

“How much do you remember?” You don’t know if you can even trust yourself to speak, with how foggy your mind is and how much effort it takes you to even utter a syllable in his presence.

“I remember enough.” He takes a step forward, and you don’t even notice that you take a step back before you see the distraught look on his face.

“You didn’t come to visit me.” His words carry no malice, no hint of accusation. Just plain stating. But your guilt still eats at you either way.

Your face falls, too ashamed to look into his eyes in fear that you might get sucked into them. “I didn’t know how to react.” You say truthfully.

“That’s fair.” Dick nods his head before nodding over to the trash can. “What’s not fair is wasting a perfectly good cup of coffee.”

You know he’s only trying to lighten up the situation, but it only makes you realize that he’s been watching you for longer than he’s been speaking.

“Dick, I just need to get my mind right. Set my thoughts straight.” You start carefully, the near-icy weather making you feel numb and frozen up. Or was it Dick himself?

“I let you slip away from me once. I will not let it happen again.” Before you realize it, you two are a step apart from each other. Your breathings are in sync, and you realize that he’s probably as nervous as you are right now.

“That wasn’t your fault.” You shake your head, your shoes being the only thing you can afford to look at for now.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” He sounds pained, and you know that if you look straight at him - you’ll be as vulnerable as he sounds now.

“A lot of things have happened, Dick. You can’t expect to just regain your memories and have everything work out. It doesn’t work like that.” You know you could be acting quite unfair right now, he’s just trying to make amends. But even ice melts when not taken care of properly.

“Can you look at me?”

You shake your head.

Dick gently tips your chin up, slowly enough to let you know that you can push his touch away. But you don’t.

He’s staring at you now, and you can see the faint rims of red in the corner of his eyes. He’s been crying. You can only hope it’s not noticeable on you either.

“I know you’re hurting. And you don’t deserve that. You deserve to be loved for - and I swear to you, I will make up for all I’ve missed. I can promise you that much.” His voice is so soft, his breath brushing against your lips in a way that threatens bringing back old memories.

It takes a lot of willpower for you to not let his words get to you. So you ask a question you know he’s going to avoid. “And what of Bea?”

He looks like you’ve taken him off guard, his gaze faltering. “I broke up with her.” He discloses, self loathing oozing in his words.

“Why?”

“To protect her from the lifestyle I have. She-she shouldn’t have to-”

“Handle it?” You finish for him, unable to hide your frustration. He doesn’t answer, looking at you like he wants to explain something in a way he doesn’t quite know how.

You grab his wrist and push his hand off your chin. Closing your eyes for a moment, you let yourself speak. Really speak.

“Dick, I love you. I’ve known you since we were kids, do you really think I’m capable of despising you? The affection I have for you will never leave my soul until I’m off this earth.” You ramble, months of holding in your tongue coming to a halt.

“So yes, when you couldn’t remember me or any of us, it hurt! I had to pick myself up, start fresh, throw my emotions on the backseat.” Dick looks like he’s about to say something, but he closes his mouth again to let you speak.

“I’m not blaming you for KGBeast’s actions. And I can’t express how much I want his head on a platter for what he did to you. But did you really think nothing would change between us? It’s unfair.”

You don’t even notice that you’re crying until you feel Dick’s hands on both sides of your face, rubbing your tears away as gently as he can with his thumbs.

The moonlight enhances his features, you think. Giving a soft glow to his facial structure, all the way down to the jawline you would press soft kisses to every morning.

“And you fall in love with this beautiful girl. Who makes you happy, even when you’re not you. You got yourself the life you deserved, and you threw it all away!” You know you’re shouting now, and you pound your fists against his chest.

You know even the strongest of your strikes can’t hurt him, which only frustrates you to no end. And the question rises - why do you want to hurt him?

“Why do you do this to yourself?” You cry out, sobbing in between words. “Why don’t you allow yourself to be happy, dammit, Dick!”

Dick does nothing to stop your punches against his chest, instead circling his arms around your figure and bringing you in closer to him.

You’ve missed this. You missed the feeling of him pulling you in, your bodies fitting together perfectly. But not under these circumstances.

Eventually, your punches slow down, weaken. You break into tears, frenzied arguments turning into broken noises and gasps of air as Dick holds you close. He makes sure you don’t fall to the ground, keeping you standing when you don’t have enough strength to do it for yourself.

Your tears make a wet patch on his shirt and he rests his chin on the top of your head, running his fingers down your hair the way he used to. “I know, baby, I know.” He says soothingly, even if the sight of you like this makes him feel like crumbling to the ground too.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats several times, and you are too. You’re sorry for the future you guys could’ve had together. You’re sorry for the missed time. You’re sorry for letting him go.

[bysaber]

Breaking up ft. Satoru Gojo

Day 13 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — you break up with your partner a few weeks prior christmas.

word count — 1.2k

content — hurt/comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated but he’s trying ok, lowercase intended

notes — today was supposed to be obito’s fic but i wrote this one first because im kinda… going thru the same thing lol. enjoy <3

everything feels out of place as you lay in bed trying to place together pieces of an unfinished puzzle.

two weeks have passed since the last time you and gojo spoke to each other. two weeks since you broke up with him, leaving a part of your heart behind.

you know you have to move on, but it’s hard when you have years of friendship and a one-year-long relationship weighing on your back. you look back to all the efforts you put into it and, foremost, you can’t completely let him go.

you always knew about gojo’s personality, in fact, you fell in love with it. but it became unsustainable when you were the one doing everything while he sat back and watched.

you used to say to him, “you are a good person. you are the best person I’ve fallen for, like a window of light in the dark.” and never once you regretted those words. you made sure to repeat them to him during the breakup.

you truly believe satoru’s a good person, and he never intended to hurt you. what defined the fate of your relationship was his inconstancy, his fear of emotions.

gojo could shower you with kisses and “i love you”s for days, but they were always half-hearted and, whenever the conversation between the two of you took a deeper turn, he would instantly shut down.

become cold, even.

he also didn’t care much about life in general, talking about several topics and simply forgetting to ask simple questions like “how was your day?”

you knew he cared, but it didn’t feel like he did.

it killed you every time he’d disappear for an entire day, especially on days you weren’t okay, not even bothering to reply to your texts, and then replying with a mere “i was busy” – you knew it already, but a text would be nice.

and to match his emotionless self, you were the embodiment of intensity.

you tried to crack up his shell, always paying attention to what he said and remembering it. you dove head first into every interest he had, and supported him in every choice he made.

you cared, you asked and, mostly, you talked.

multiple times, you tried to express how you felt, how you wish he could open up more and maybe just regard you a little more – a few texts not to worry you wouldn’t hurt. gojo said he was like that, but that he would try to be better.

what mined your relationship was that lie.

because he never even tried.

and after another month of dealing with all of that, with not feeling wanted enough, cared enough, you decided to end everything.

you can’t lie a little part of you hoped he would fight for you, ask for you to stay. but as you watched distress filling his eyes, all he could muster was, “i’m really sorry i couldn’t be better.”

and you lost everything you thought you had.

you blink away your tears, trying to escape from your painful thoughts, and get up from the bed – it’s past seven now and you need to start getting ready for a christmas party at one of your friends’ house.

you need to move on.

after taking a quick shower, you put on the red dress you’ve decided to wear – a dress that gojo bought for you months before – before starting to do your makeup.

this is when your doorbell rings.

you frown, “who is it?” you yell as you make your way toward the door, but there’s no time for an answer before you open it.

you almost close it again when you see your ex-boyfriend standing there, but you don’t. you know you need to be mature about this situation, even if seeing him makes all the walls you’ve been building crumble down.

it hurts.

“gojo.”

you don’t look him in the eye, focusing on his christmas sweater instead. funnily, the one you gave him a year ago.

“can i come in? it’s freezing outside.”

if you looked into his eyes, though, you would see the big blue bag under them. you would see how faded his blue irises are, and how fucking anxious satoru is.

you don’t ask further questions, letting him into the house he knows all too well before you close the door. he follows you like a lost puppy, and keeps standing when you sit on the couch.

“you look gorgeous,” he compliments meekly.

“thank you. what do you want?” it takes all of you to not start crying right then and there, but you know you have to be firm.

“i want you back.”

satoru doesn’t beat around the bush, and the silence that follows is so loud it can be heard. you feel your heart beating in an insane rhythm, and your head spins.

“gojo, you can’t–”

“you were right. you are right. about everything,” he interrupts you. “i was a boy, and for that i’m sorry. i acted like you had to keep up with my shit, like you would always be there, and i’m sorry for that too,” gojo speaks so fast you can barely keep up with him, like he’s going to die if he doesn’t say those words. “i thought i couldn’t change, i thought i didn’t have to. because it is easier to live the way i live, but… it is much harder to live without you.”

“gojo–”

again, he doesn’t let you speak, “don’t call me that. please, don’t call me that,” gojo drops on his knees in front of you and grabs your hand. “call me satoru, toru, baby, love for all i care. just not gojo. i’ve been miserable without you, i never thought a person could get so miserable,” his voice cracks, pulling your hand towards his face in a desperate attempt to be comforted. “i promise you i will do better, i will pay attention, text you all the time, tell you all about my past and what made me who i am, scream through my pain for what’s worth. just take me back, please.”

you are so deeply in shock that it takes you a while to register the tears falling down his face, his eyes closed as he expects the worst.

all it takes is for your thumb to caress his cheek softly, and satoru sobs. you grab his face with both of your hands, cleaning his teardrops as your own fall, and you gently kiss his forehead.

it kills you to see him like that, but at the same time it gives you a reason to live to know that he’s willing to try. for you.

you kiss his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips.

satoru whimpers, pulling you into an embrace so strong you’re afraid he’ll never let go.

“toru,” you say when you part your lips and bury your face in his neck, feeling his scent. “everything’s okay now. i’m here, i’ll take care of you.”

“missed you so much, i’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“i missed you, too,” you confess, finally looking into his eyes and frowning when you notice he hasn't slept. “what’s past is past, we’ll be okay. but i guess we should just sleep a bit, hm? it was one hell of a ride.”

“sleep together, right?”

he sounds so clingy, you chuckle lightly.

“yes, toru. together.”

[gucciwins]

A Family of Three Grows

A/N: Thank you to the lovely Nonnie who brought back inspiration for this story I wrote in 2020 and last gave an update in 2022. Who knew 2024 would be the year I brought it back. This was fun to write and go back to this family's dynamics. Hope you enjoy, my sweet friends 💜

Word count: 3234

Adore You / Three Time / Leather and Lace / Family / Ask

+

Harry loved his family. 

Y/N and Atticus were everything to him and when Y/N broke the news their family was going to be growing, he was over the moon. It’s something they talked about but never rushed because they had Atticus, their sweet angel who would not stop growing. 

Atticus was the smartest boy. He was the top of his class and loved to read chapter books with Y/N. Each night, they would read a chapter and discuss their thoughts over breakfast in the morning. Harry’s input was asking questions so he could stay in the loop. Harry still remembered a summer day where he went to run errands, leaving them at home reading in bed and came to find them cuddled with ten books laid on their bed. He knew his son valued this time with the woman he called Mum. 

Life had treated them well. Y/N was writing, going to the studio when Atticus was at school. Harry adhered to the schedule and was open to working extra hours. Y/N and Harry were the perfect team. She helped create the entirety of Harry’s house. It was an album he felt captured their life in their own way. The grammy’s that year were a pleasant bonus to round out the amazing year they had. 

Y/N and Harry were in the studio today while Atticus was at school. Harry was in no rush to push out a fourth album. He enjoyed being in the studio with Y/N. It made him fall in love with her all over again. The ideas she brought were something he didn’t take for granted.

Y/N was sitting at the piano wearing her favorite oversized Ferrari sweater. The girl clung to her worn-out shirt, despite its tears. Not that he would ever make her. He had his fair share of tattered shirts in his closet. 

She was beautiful. How lucky he was to have her as his partner for the past five years. Their family is everything he dreamed of when he was a young boy. Without looking, she called for him to sit beside her on the bench. He did so without a second thought. 

“I wrote a song–well, it’s unfinished,” she tells him as she plays the soothing lullaby she wrote for Atticus when he was six years old and was having a hard time sleeping through the night. It’s something she played repeatedly until Atty would fall asleep. 

“Can I hear it?” 

Y/N shifts. She seemed reluctant to reveal it to him. 

“Well, it might not be any good,” she defends, and she pulls her notebook. 

Harry frowns. Y/N being insecure in the studio is unheard of unless it’s something she’s been holding in her chest for a long time and is finally letting it out. She passes him the notebook. There’s a picture holding the place she wants him to read. One look at her is all the encouragement he needs to open up the book and read the first words: For Atty.

He reads line by line and by the time he reaches the last words, there are tears fighting to fall from his eyes. Y/N wrote a song for their song. It’s a rough draft, and he knows she wants him to help her finish it. 

“Atticus knows how much we love him–how much I love him. But I want him to hear this song and know that my love isn’t something that will ever go away. If anything, it’ll only get stronger.” She tells Harry. 

It takes everything in him to not break down because he never expected to be loved this much in life. He expected to be content, but this was beyond anything he could ever dream of. “It’s fucking perfect.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s not even–” 

Harry stops her, reaching for her hand. He brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her hand. “It’s amazing. You wrote a song for our boy. Sure it’s not finished, but you wrote those lyrics calling our sun the light of our life. The reason the world turns. I have never been able to put into words how much he means to me, but you did it.” 

“I love you,” Y/N reminds him.

“Love you, too. So fucking much.” 

“Will you sing it?” Y/N asks. Those beautiful eyes are staring at him and there is no way he can tell her no.

After so many years together, Harry understands how Y/N writes songs. He can see the melody written out. It’s something that frustrates Tyler because he doesn’t pick up on her cues. Harry tells him not to sweat it, it’s something only they have. Something they have as the perfect pair. 

Y/N plays the melody on the piano as Harry sings the lyrics. The longer he sings, the more he feels his throat close up and by the final lyrics, he’s got tears streaming down his face. “I don’t think I can sing it without crying.” 

She laughs. “You’ll have to try. I want us to record it for Atty. Maybe get it on a record for him.” 

Harry gives her a long kiss. “That sounds like the best idea.” 

Y/N and Harry spent the rest of the day in the studio, knowing Atticus was with Anne for the day allowed them the extra time to be in the studio. By the time dinner rolled around, Harry had ordered them food from her favorite Chinese food restaurant. Y/N reminded him three times not to forget her spring rolls. Over dinner, they discussed the song and how they might want to surprise Atticus. Y/N made him promise not to tell him until they could have it produced by their good friend, Tyler. It would take some time, but it would be worth it. 

Y/N had a last surprise for Harry. They were back to sitting side by side on the piano bench when she passed him her notebook again. “There is one last surprise,” Y/N tells him. She flips the notebook a few more pages. There is a paper. He thinks nothing of it until Y/N turns it around for him.

A sonogram. 

It’s a black photo with a small gray blob in the center. Harry isn’t sure what to think. It can’t be true. Can it?

He squints, picking up the paper, and in the corner has Y/N’s hyphenated name.

“Baby, is this?” He gets out.

“What is it?”

“Are we–are you?” Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes that are brimming with tears. “Are you pregnant?” 

Y/N lets out a joyous laugh, one that finds a place deep in his heart. “Yeah,” she confirms. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” 

“Oh, my goodness.” Harry looks back down at the sonogram. He wants to know everything, but all he can do is cry. Y/N stands up from the bench to move closer to him. Harry turns his body, resting his head on her stomach, Y/N settles her hands on his shoulder. She lets one run through his hair as he takes in the news that they are going to be giving Atticus a sibling. Something he would ask for constantly. They were making a dream come true. 

“Hi, little pea. I’m your Daddy.” 

Harry pulls away from Y/N when he hears a loud sob. “I’m sorry,” Y/N apologies for startling him. “That was–I don’t even know how to explain it, but fuck, you’re so amazing.” 

He drags Y/N to sit in his lap. Harry holds her close, rocking her back and forth, kissing her neck, whispering, I love you. This is something they talked about endlessly. Atticus was their boy. They had always said their family was perfect. Whether they added to their family or not, they are happy, but getting this addition into their life felt right. 

Y/N isn’t sure how much time passes, but she is ready to go home and be with Atticus. As they’re packing up, Y/N steps towards Harry, knowing he might be upset with the only downside to the news of her pregnancy. “H, we can’t tell anyone. Not Atticus. Not even Anne.” 

“But love, how do you expect me to resist?” 

Y/N’s smile is sincere. She knows he wants to scream it from the rooftops. “It’s early,” she stresses. “I want us to make sure everything is okay. That we make it past this first trimester. I know that’s asking a lot for you.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not at all, Lovie. I understand. Your health and the babies are important. I respect that.”

She gives him a kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s get home to our sweet boy.” 

They leave the studio with their hearts full. 

+

It’s been three months and Y/N’s doctor gave them the all clear. Their sweet bub is growing at a good rate and Y/N is doing spectacular. No morning sickness, no weird food cravings (yet) and is glowing. Harry was excited because that meant it was time for them to share the news with their family, but most importantly, to Atticus. 

Harry spent the day getting the surprise ready. The vinyl was in a special box ready to be opened and then played. They’d be doing that first, then give Atticus the news. While Harry ran around getting everything perfect, Y/N laid in the hammock in their backyard with Atticus. They each had a book in hand. Atticus at 9 was reading the Percy Jackson series, something Y/N was excited about because they were some of her favorite books when she was growing up. Now she got to see her son experience everything she did at his age. It helped that she could answer questions he had, without spoilers, of course. 

Y/N set her book down, running her hand through Atticus’ brown locks similar to Harry’s. She knew he’d made a great older brother. She also feared he’d think she’d loved him less with a baby around, which was far from the truth. Atticus was hers, he was her baby boy and nothing or no one could take that from her. Harry likes to joke and say Atticus is her twin instead of his because he takes after her. Atticus has all of Harry’s looks but is everything her child for he has her love of reading. He loves the ocean and could spend hours in there with them. Atty was charismatic and had everyone’s attention as soon as he walked into a room. He exuded confidence and skillfully commanded attention with his voice. Y/N liked to say he picked up on both of their traits, but Harry assured her Atticus was a piece of her. It never failed to make her cry. 

“I love you Atticus.” Y/N told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Atticus bookmarked the page he was on. “I love you too, Mum.” 

Y/N wanted to blurt out the news to Atticus, but knew Harry would be upset she did it without him, so she held it in. 

“Forever going to be my sweet boy?” Y/N asks. 

“Course. Going to take care of you all my life,” Atticus promises. 

Y/N smiles. A very Harry answer. “Much appreciated. I think your dad has got you covered.”

Atticus shrugs, “two of us looking out for you isn’t bad.” 

“Glad I’m in safe hands.” 

Atticus goes back to reading but Y/N stays lost in thought, waiting for Harry to announce his arrival. It isn’t much longer when Harry rushes through the backyard, box in hand. Y/N sits up, eager to give it to her son, but Atticus doesn’t seem concerned about his reading. 

“Hi bud, got you something?” Harry shakes the box softly. 

“Two pages left,” Atticus mumbles. 

Harry frowns. “This is your fault.” He points at Y/N.

Y/N gasps. “Please, who bought him an entire library?”

“Again you,” he defends. 

“Technically, your money.”

“Our money,” Harry corrects. 

Atticus is entranced in his reading and Harry uses the time to steal a kiss from Y/N. They refrain from anything too much for Atticus’ sake, but he never minds seeing them give a bit of affection. 

“Chapter done,” Atticus shouts. “Gimme. Gimmie.” He makes grabby hands, but Harry shakes his head, telling him they had to head inside. 

Y/N holds onto Harry’s arm as Atticus rushes inside to the piano room. It’s his favorite room in their Malibu home. The view is perfect. You can see the tides rolling in, one landing on top of another. The sounds perfect to lull someone to sleep. 

Harry sits next to Atticus while Y/N kneels in front of him, her hands pressed together under her chin as she watches him tear the paper. Y/N remembers doing that as a child and knows her mother was a saint for the patience she had. Y/N is close to ripping it herself, but when she sees the brown box, she settles down for a single moment.

Atticus pulls out the record. It’s in a sleeve with a beautiful print of Y/N, Harry and Atticus running through the sand a few months back. Anne had taken it and it became their favorite picture as a family. Harry

thought it would be the perfect fit, and it was. On the top of the cover it read “Atticus’ Song”. His small hands ran over the words as he sounded it out. 

“Is this us?” 

Y/N stroked his cheek. “Yeah, bubs. It’s for you.” 

“Can you play it?” Atticus asks Y/N. 

Harry knew Y/N was nervous. Hell, he was too. There was no worse critic than an honest nine-year-old. As Y/N placed the record on the player, Atticus fiddled with the string of the bracelet he made the other day with Harry. They all had a similar one on their wrist, Atticus having made Y/N’s matching them. Y/N walked back, squeezing next to Harry. Atticus closed his eyes to focus on the opening notes of the song. He was just like Harry, a true critic and admirer of all music. This time was no different. 

The song was slow and had the melody of a lullaby. Harry’s voice welcomed them into the song, with Y/N’s joining him in the chorus. Y/N saw Atticus’ lip twitch during her solo and she couldn’t help but squeeze Harry’s arm. The song ran its course, and they waited patiently for his thoughts. 

“Nice. It was really nice.” 

Y/N let out a deep breath she was holding. Atticus cries, and Y/N panics as she swoops him into her lap before Harry can even move. She holds him tight to her chest as she meets Harry’s worried stare.

“Darling, my darling boy. I got you. I always have you.” Y/N whispers, brushing his hair back, trying her best to soothe him. Y/N rocks him back and forth, letting him get out all his emotions. 

Atticus pulls back, his sniffles the only sound in the room. “Promise I like it.” 

Harry laughs. “Tears would say otherwise, bud.” 

“It–I–I” Atticus isn’t sure how to explain what he felt. “Can we play it every day?” 

Y/N presses a kiss to his temple. “Anything for you.” 

“You wrote it Mumma?” 

Harry scoffs in defense. “What if I did? Huh?” 

Atticus giggles. “Okay, Dad.” 

Harry pouts. Y/N is the stronger song writer, there is no fighting it. “Fine, she wrote most of it.” 

“We did it together,” Y/N answers. 

“It’s my new favorite.” Atticus declares proudly. 

“Good. That’s good. We do have one last surprise.” Harry is eager to share the news.

He stands up and goes for the frame they put the sonogram in for Atticus to keep in his room. While Harry steps out, Y/N settles Atticus in the middle of the sofa for Harry to sit next to him. Honestly, she wants to record this moment but decides it’s better to keep it private between them. Harry comes back with his dimples on display and Atticus is quick to be suspicious. 

“Now close your eyes,” Harry orders. 

Atticus looks weary but does as he’s told. Harry places the frame in his hands and when Atticus opens his eyes, he is looking at their most recent sonogram. It’s clear there is a baby in the middle with its head and body. Atticus would be quick to put it together, but even if he didn’t, the frame reading “Best Brother” would be a dead giveaway. Atticus’ jaw drops at the news. His eyes were not leaving Y/N’s as if he was waiting for them to say “just kidding” because he had waited a long time for this moment. There was a baby in his mum’s stomach. He was going to be an older brother. 

“Is that why you’re always snacking?” Is the first thing Atticus says. 

“Atticus,” Harry shouts playfully. Harry spares a glance at Y/N, unsure how she will react. She’s been a weeping mess, even if she denies it’s the pregnancy hormones. Instead, she surprises him by laughing. It’s a full belly laugh that makes her tear up. 

It is true Y/N had been snacking recently, always something in her hand from a mandarin to banana chips. Harry had stocked up on different snacks on his weekly run to Tesco. He was sure Y/N had almost finished them, but he didn’t mind making all the extra runs out. Anything for his wife. 

“How long do I have to wait to meet them?” Atticus asks when Y/N’s laughter has died down.

Y/N places her hand over her stomach. She hasn’t popped yet, but her doctor told her it would happen soon. Harry had taken photos every day, so she had seen the difference. “About six months to go, Atty.” 

His eyes widened. “Too long.” 

Harry laughs, pushing back Atticus’ growing curls. “Trust me, I know. But we’ve got an important job during this time.”

Y/N smacks Harry’s shoulder. “You don’t have a job, baby. We want you to keep being you. You can talk to us about the baby, about anything.” 

“Can they hear me?” Is his follow up question. 

“Mmm, you can talk to them all you like. Your Daddy certainly likes to do so.” 

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “Thought you liked it.” 

Y/N gives Harry a kiss. “I love it. One of my favorite parts of the day.”

“Okay. Can I do it now?” Atticus asks. 

Harry nods and gestures for him to settle on the couch with Y/N. He sits on Y/N’s lap while Harry is quick to try to move him, wanting him to be careful with her. Y/N simply pulls him closer, and it reminds him of how perfect of a mother Y/N already is. 

He joins his family on the couch, all snuggled close, while they listen to Atticus talk to his sibling. It’s one of the best days of Harry’s life and he can’t wait to make more memories in a few months’ time. For now, he will enjoy these special moments. 

[silvertongues-emeraldlies]

Marked - Prologue {B.B}

Soulmate AU - People are born with their soulmate’s initial on the inside of their right wrist in red. When they meet, the initial turns a barely visible gold. If one dies, the initial turns black. If their soulmate isn’t born yet, it’s white. Though that doesn’t last very long…on most occasions.

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warning(s): Mentions of torture (i think that’s it)

Word Count: 1,189

——

Bucky Barnes had always been the protector. He remembered his childhood filled with scrapes and bruises, not just from the neighborhood kids or his own adventures, but from stepping in to defend Steve Rogers. Skinny, scrappy Steve with his big heart, he never knew when to back down from a fight. It was on one of those summer days, the sticky New York heat pressing down on them, that they first noticed the marks on their wrists. Bucky was 16, barely old enough to know what it all meant, but old enough to understand the significance.

“Hey, Buck, look at this,” Steve had said, leaning against the railing of their Brooklyn apartment stoop. He rolled up his sleeve, exposing his skinny wrist to reveal a tiny, vibrant “P” in red ink, glowing under the sun. “Guess someone out there’s waitin’ for me.”

Bucky had stared at Steve’s wrist, a knot forming in his throat. It was something everyone dreamed of, that mark—a confirmation of belonging, of fate, of connection. “Looks like you’re not alone, Stevie,” he managed with a grin. He could feel Steve’s happiness radiate off him, and Bucky felt proud, protective. Steve deserved this.

But when Bucky pulled up his own sleeve, there was only a faint, colorless outline of an initial, but it was white, as if fate hadn’t bothered to finish the job. He laughed it off, hiding his disappointment. “Guess mine’s defective, huh?”

Steve frowned. “I dunno, Buck. Maybe it’ll change someday. Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”

But Bucky had already started pulling his sleeve back down, a smile pasted on his face. “Yeah, maybe. Or maybe I get to be a free agent. Can’t have someone tied down to me, anyway.” He winked, but Steve’s concerned look stayed in his mind far longer than he would have liked.

As they grew older, the difference between their marks only seemed to widen. Steve’s soulmate initial was a bright red badge of hope, a promise of love and loyalty. But Bucky’s remained empty, pale and unfinished. He’d learned to hide it, to laugh and flirt his way through every gathering or dance. If he could make people smile, maybe they wouldn’t notice the white mark on his wrist. Maybe they wouldn’t see that empty, hollow part of him.

Bucky’s initial might have been invisible, but his duty to his country was anything but. When the draft came, he enlisted without hesitation, a sharp determination flaring inside him. If he couldn’t prove his worth through a soulmate bond, then maybe he could through service, through courage.

The first night in training camp was harsh and unforgiving, but Bucky kept his spirits high. He worked his way through every drill, every task, driven by the knowledge that he was now part of something larger than himself. When the war letters came in, soldiers would huddle around, reading notes from their sweethearts, kissing the paper as if it would bring them closer to home. And when Bucky would feel that emptiness tugging at him, he’d close his eyes, clutch his white initial, and remind himself that he didn’t need anyone else. He was already whole, even if it didn’t feel like it.

One evening, as he wrote his letter to Steve, he paused, the pen hovering above the paper. The words seemed to blur, the memory of his colorless mark vivid in his mind. Did it really matter if he didn’t have a soulmate? Did that define his worth? And yet, no matter how many times he reassured himself, there was a pang that never faded. He’d pour his heart into each letter home to Steve, recounting the good times they shared and his worries about the future, always keeping the more vulnerable thoughts locked away. There was no point in worrying Steve.

Bucky’s last mission was a disaster. Hydra forces overwhelmed them, and soon, Bucky found himself captured, bound, and transported to a place he could barely identify through the haze of pain and exhaustion. His body ached with bruises, and blood trickled from cuts he couldn’t even feel anymore. Every nerve in his body screamed, but he bit his tongue, forcing himself to remain silent. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. When they branded him with new scars, injected him with unknown chemicals, built him a new arm in place of the one he’d lost falling off the train, and whispered promises of destruction, Bucky felt his grip on reality slipping. But through it all, the faint white outline on his wrist remained, a barely-there line that somehow anchored him. The ghostly mark he’d once hated now became his lifeline. His fingers found it in moments of agony, a small, fragile reminder that he was still human. That somewhere, somehow, he had a tether to the world he’d left behind. Days blended into nights, which melted into more endless days. His memories of Brooklyn, of Steve, of the life he’d known began to fade, lost in the haze of Hydra’s relentless conditioning. But that white initial—it was there, like a whisper, a name he couldn’t quite remember but couldn’t bear to forget.

When he was first awoken for a mission as the Winter Soldier, almost 20 years later, the world around him was cold, sharp, and unforgiving. Every time they brought him back, he’d feel a sliver of confusion, a sense of loss that gnawed at him but never fully materialized into a coherent thought. And every time he felt that emptiness, he’d catch a glimpse of the mark on his wrist—a mark he didn’t understand, a blank canvas that somehow connected him to a life he didn’t remember. In the field, he was a machine—unfeeling, mechanical, a force of destruction honed to perfection. He followed orders without question, took down targets with precision. And when he returned, he felt nothing but the cold, the emptiness that clung to him like a shadow. The white initial had become his only company in a world stripped of humanity.

But one night, after a particularly brutal mission, something shifted. He returned to his cell, the taste of iron in his mouth, the ache of bruises blooming beneath his skin. He raised his arm, rolling up his sleeve with shaking hands. And there, where the colorless initial had always been, was a red letter, vibrant and alive, stark against his skin. A letter he’d once seen only as an afterthought, an empty promise, now burned with a brightness that sent his heart hammering.

It was real. He had a soulmate. He wasn’t broken.

For the first time in years, Bucky allowed himself a moment of emotion—a tear slipping down his cheek, a shuddering breath that broke the silence of the room. Somewhere out there, someone was waiting for him. He hadn’t been alone all this time; he’d just been waiting for this moment. And as he clenched his fist, feeling the strength return to his limbs, he knew he couldn’t give up. He had to fight, to escape, to find the person who’d saved him from the abyss, even if they didn’t know it yet.

———

This was a little rushed so it’s not the best. I had a friend help me write as well because i didn’t know what to write. I’m planning on making this fic a short series so let me know what you think!!

xx Cris

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

[devildomwriter]

Their Pacts

I’ve compiled what was said when the pacts were made, when MC asked, their responses, and when and why the pacts were made.

Lucifer’s Pact

When: Chapter 20-14

Where: Lucifer’s Office

Why: It felt right to them

Who Proposed the Pact: MC though Lucifer prodded it

The Proposal:

Lucifer: “…have you done all you set out to do here in the Devildom? No unfinished business? No loose ends?”

MC: “I still haven’t made a pact with you.”

The Response:

Lucifer: “A pact, you say? I see. You’ve made pacts with all of my brothers, which just leaves me… Do you really want to make a pact with me? Truly? I don’t know how my brothers felt about making a pact with you, but I am more than a name to be crossed off of your list. I can’t have you lumping me together with everyone else. That won’t do.”

The Pact:

Lucifer: “Now Listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me. So, what will it be? Will you make a pact with me, MC?”

—

Option 1 MC: “Yes. I’ll make a pact with you.”

Lucifer: “…Good. Then it’s done.”

Option 2 MC: “No, I don’t want a pact with you.”

Lucifer: “How unfortunate for you. Because it’s too late now.” —

Lucifer: “As of this moment, MC, you are mine.”

Mammon’s Pact

When: Chapter 2-8

Where: House of Lamentation Kitchen

Why: MC— was asked to | Mammon— to save Goldie

Who Proposed the Pact: Leviathan suggested it, MC asked

The Proposal:

MC: “Make a pact with me, Mammon.”

The Response:

Mammon: “UH-UH, NO WAY! NOT INTERESTED! I am the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, one of the seven rulers of the Devildom! Fool���do you actually think I’d like some human be the boss of me?”

The Pact:

Mammon: “I mean, of course I’ll make a pact with you, human! I’d be thrilled to!”

Leviathan’s Pact

When: Chapter 4-6

Where: House of Lamentation Planetarium

Why: Supposedly this pact is suggested sometime before the TSL competition but through error—possibly a translation issue—the pact is never actually proposed in-game.

Who Proposed the Pact: It was likely MC who proposed as Levi seemed annoyed by the possibility of a pact.

The Proposal: *see above*

The Response: *see above*

The Pact:

Leviathan: “…All right, look. Here’s the thing. You remember why we decided to have that competition in the first place, right? It was to see who the bigger TSL fan was. And I told you that if you won, I’d enter into a pact with you. That Little trump card you pulled out was a real dirty trick… …but a promise is a promise, after all. It really kills me to do this…it makes my stomach churn. But, I’ll keep my end of the bargain. I’ll do it. I’ll make a pact with you.”

Satan’s Pact

When: Chapter 12-10

Where: House of Lamentation Hallway

Why: MC— to free Belphegor | Satan— respect for MC

Who Proposed the Pact: The first time, MC. The following times, Satan

First Proposal: *the first proposal is in response to Asmodeus asking MC who they’d like to make a pact with next*

First Response:

Satan: “If you want to make a pact with me, it’ll cost you. A lot. Though, if you offered me your soul in return, I might consider it…”

Second Proposal: *made by Satan to annoy Lucifer*

Satan: “…Good question. What are you trying to accomplish…? Hmm, well…I guess I’ll just have to help MC too, won’t I?”

Leviathan: “Wait, you’re going to have to explain that, Satan. Are you saying that…?”

Satan: “Yep. I’ll also be making a pact with MC.”

Second Response:

MC: “I’m not making a pact with you.”

Satan: “…What did you say? I told you I’d make a pact with you. You can’t seriously be planning in rejecting me? You, a human…reject me? …Don’t you dare trifle with me. Do you think I’m called the Avatar of Wrath for nothing? I usually work to contain my anger so it doesn’t show. But I will make you suffer if you cross me, and it will be much more cruel and much less humans than anything my brothers would ever do. I’ll slice off your nose and ears, rips off your arms and legs, and feed you to the lower- level demons…!”

MC: “…!”

Satan: “Listen well, human! If you dare say that you won’t make a pact with me again, you’ll pay for it with your—“

Proposal:

Satan: “Anyway, I know this isn’t the best time for me to ask this, but… MC, would you agree to a pact with me?”

The Pact:

Satan: “All right, time for me I go ahead and take the oath. …I am Satan, Avatar of Wrath. I pledge myself to you, MC…that we may be bound by an unbreakable pact. This I swear to you on both my name as well as the very blood that runs through my veins.”

Asmodeus’s Pact

When: Chapter 8-15

Where: Demon Lord’s Castle Hallway

Why: MC— to free Belphegor | Asmodeus— originally it was a deal but he wanted to after witnessing MC’s power

Who Proposed the Pact: MC vaguely proposed it but Asmodeus made it clear

First Proposal: *the first proposal is in response to Asmodeus asking MC who they’d like to make a pact with next*

First Response:

Asmodeus: “Yes, I’m not surprised you want me all to yourself. And I understand. Believe me, I do. All too well… Humans Just can’t help themselves when confronted with someone beautiful and alluring, can they? Oh, but just because I said I understand, that doesn’t mean you actually have a chance with me. Because I’m not the least bit interested in forming a pact.”

Proposal:

MC: “I could control you if you made a pact with me.”

Response:

Asmodeus: “Me? Make a pact with you? Hahaha! What? Do you think that because I made a pact with Solomon, I’m willing to do it with any human who comes along? Please. If you really think I’m that Ea͏s͏y, you’re mistaken—very mistaken. Still…Hmm. If you want to make a pact with me that badly then what do you say to this? If you can manage to outwit Lucifer somehow, then I’ll be willing to recognize you as someone worthy of me. If you really want to make a pact with me, then…surely you can do something like that, right?”

The Pact:

Asmodeus: “Yep. But I mean, even if Solomon did lend his powers, it shouldn’t be possible for someone to draw that kind of power out of me, you know? I mean, you’ve got to admit, it’s super impressive! MC you really were amazing down there! So, I’m making a pact with MC. I’ve made up my mind.”

Beelzebub’s Pact

When: Chapter 6-10

Where: The Twins’ Room

Why: MC— claims they want lucifers respect but it’s really to help Belphegor escape | Beelzebub— believes MC will help him and his brothers make up

First Proposal: *the first proposal is in response to Asmodeus asking MC who they’d like to make a pact with next*

First Response:

Beelzebub: “Uh-uh. No. Although, if you’d make sure I always had tons and tons of food—as much as I could eat—then I’d consider it.”

Proposal:

MC: “I want you to make a pact with me.”

Response:

Beelzebub: “So, you’ve made a pact with Mammon and Leviathan, and now you want to make one with me. Why are you so interested in making pacts with demons, huh? I want to know why you want to make a pact with me. Let’s hear it.”

The Pact:

Beelzebub: “So, by making a pact with us, you’re hoping to impress Lucifer? So that he’ll understand that you’re actually someone worth listening to, despite the fact that you’re a human? You want to do what even Solomon hasn’t been able to accomplish? … …All right. I feel the same way. I want Belphegor and Lucifer to make up, too. So I’ll do it. I’ll make a pact with you, MC.”

Belphegor’s Pact

When: Chapter 18-19

Where: Demon Lord’s Castle Gazebo by the Lake

Why: He wanted to gift himself to MC

Proposal:

Belphegor: “…You know, I had a hard time deciding what to get you for a present. And maybe this isn’t very original of me, but…MC, how would you like to make me yours? I’m asking if you’ll make a pact with me.”

The Response:

Option 1 MC: You bet I will! Yaaay!”

Belphegor: “Good…I like you’re reaction.”

Option 2 MC: “I thought you said you didn’t want to do that.”)

Belphegor: “I did say that before, yeah…”

The Pact:

Belphegor: “Also, I’d like it if I could be the closest demon to you…the first one you turn to for help whenever you need it. …So then, let’s make it official. Here’s to a long and lasting relationship, MC.”