#and then suddenly you’ve done almost the whole thing

[whimsicalpolitical]

a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵‍💫😵‍💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁

content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,

this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.

“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”

you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.

sleep is the last thing on your mind though.

twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.

“that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”

your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.

you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.

“you can fuck off with that.”

you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.

he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.

“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”

matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.

“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”

matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”

“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.

“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”

his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”

you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”

he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.

you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”

he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”

“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.

“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”

his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.

your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”

his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”

“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.

“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”

your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.

“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.

“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”

you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”

“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”

you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.

“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”

you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”

“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”

you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”

“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”

“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.

“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”

you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.

he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.

he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.

“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”

“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.

“perfect.”

you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.

“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”

���yes.”

his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.

he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz

you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.

he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.

“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.

you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.

"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.

"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”

matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”

his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,

"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”

it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.

you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.

his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.

“such a pretty cunt, darling.”

your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."

you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.

“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”

his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.

"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”

his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."

matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”

"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.

but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.

he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”

"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.

"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”

he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.

you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.

“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”

“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.

matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.

“mhm, perfect.”

matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.

“oh f-fuck.” you moan.

a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.

“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”

the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.

“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.

it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.

he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.

“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”

matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.

the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.

“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.

a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.

“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”

milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.

matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.

“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”

matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”

"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”

“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”

nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.

“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.

“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.

your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.

“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.

matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”

“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”

you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.

matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.

“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.

he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.

matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”

“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”

“yeah?”

matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.

you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.

"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”

“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.

his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.

you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.

“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”

he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."

"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.

it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.

“just like that, perfect, darling.”

he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.

“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.

you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.

“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.

matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.

“give me a break,” you giggle.

“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.

you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.

“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”

you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.

[mumblesplash]

comics are great because they’re actually several dozen smaller drawings in a trenchcoat and you can use all of them to procrastinate working on all the other ones

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; two

wc ; 3089 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mentions of death, neglect, mentions of smoking, curse words

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

You were a fool.

It had been a few days since your conversation with Bruce, and yet here you still were, sat in your bedroom with a few dollars to your name. 

How foolish you were to believe that your father would remember to give you anything, that he’d remember you at all. You feel so helpless, like that pitiful child who would hide in this very room, their knees to their chest with only their deep loneliness for company, the morose feeling of nothingness cradling them close, hiding them from the sight of a family that could’ve been.

Gritting your teeth, you push your face into your pillow, muffling your groans, your hands curl around the sheets, annoyance rising in each of your organs, they tighten in a way that makes you cringe. You were given a chance by fate, for some reason she had chosen you to go back in time, to fix your foolish mistakes once more. So why do you feel this familiar bile crawling up your throat? Why do you feel like that child once more? Why can’t you escape the void of solitude, the desolate ache in your hollow bones, numbing everything else from your mind.

You hate this feeling of vulnerability. Despite having the power to change everything, you’ve been unable to do anything but embarrass yourself, cry and then cry some more. But wallowing in self-pity will do you no good! You need to get up off your ass.

If you were going to survive, you needed to toughen up, no more pissing about! You get up with a newfound determination, you won’t foolishly rely on your ‘family’ anymore. If they don’t care about you, that’s fine! No worries! It doesn’t matter, you’ll do what you need, get out and live a happy life!

Easier said than done, how the fuck do you buy a house? At sixteen, no less, funds are one thing but finding a morally-correct landlord in Gotham is akin to being told to find a needle in a haystack. Impossible.

And every single half-right landlord you do find is somehow connected to Wayne Enterprises, you grumble, tapping on your phone with frustration, fighting the urge to throw the damn device against the wall. That wouldn’t do you any good, a phone is essential when buying a house, or so you’ve read from the multiple sight’s you’ve been consulting on help for house hunting.

Your knee’s crack as you get up with a huff, deciding that online surfing is no good anymore – you need to go get some fresh air. It’s still light outside, so it’ll be relatively safe. And with that you set off. Walking through the Manor after that strange interaction with Bruce earlier was strange, the walls suddenly felt different – each fancy painting, trinket and portrait feeling like a direct mockery towards you. As you’re huffing, stomping through the halls in an almost childish manner, you’re suddenly met with a familiar sight. Your younger brother, Damian. He’s looking at you with a familiar glower, one you’ve seen one too many times, it doesn’t bother you anymore, what does bother you is when his hand snakes out to grip your wrist in a tight grip.

“What the–” You cut yourself off when he squeezes your skin tightly, a spike of pain running through your arm as you glare at him. You had forgotten how vengeful Damian was to you for some reason, it mellowed down as you grew older but at sixteen he had it out for you.

Probably out of strange superiority complex. You shared the same father, but his mother was a key figure in the League of Assasins and your mother was some just lucky broad who managed to get lucky with Bruce Wayne.

Plus, the whole lack of vigilantism, but to you that's an afterthought.

You didn’t have time to deal with this, not today! Time was a-ticking and the Gotham housing market wasn’t getting any younger. You were sick of the walls around you, the walls which seem to mock you, belittle you for your shortcomings, you needed a change, hopefully changing your surroundings will change your person – or however the quote goes.

Though, you digress.

“Is it true?” Damian asks lowly, his eyes trained on you in the same way Bruce did, it’s eerie, like he’s picking you apart in his mind. This is– odd. Usually, Damian would sneer at you, threaten you, degrade you. That’s what you were familiar with, that's what you were expecting to be true, you are not prepared for the chilling look in his eyes. “You’re planning to leave?”

“What– What business is it to you?” You hiss, ripping your arm from his grip, rubbing over the aching skin in a soothing motion, a hand-shaped bruise pulsing against your skin. “You dare to try and leave? How foolish can you be, you can barely stand on your own two feet.” He says, a sardonic edge to his voice as he assesses you. What is his problem!? Your head was reeling, a small conversation with Bruce is one thing, you can rule it to some strange coincidence or whatever the hell it was.

But Damian seeking you out? To have a conversation? That is strange. He’s definitely the sibling you’ve interacted with the most, of course, not in a good way. Nothing in this manor was ever in a good way. 

Damian’s always been hostile, seeing you as some sort of anomaly, inferior to him, to everyone in the family. He made a note to remind you of that fact every time you’d bump into each other. His words always struck you deeply, the cavern in your chest growing, urging you deeper into despair at his cruel words, despite that, a small, skin-hungry part of you looked forward to seeing him as you wander around.

His words were cruel, but it was better than the dismissive eyes, he insulted you but he didn’t ignore you. He kicked you down but he made you feel human, he made you feel seen. Even if you had stared at the mirror with disgust after you’d cross paths, desperate to rid yourself of any physical connection you share with him, courtesy to your shared DNA.

“I’m– I didn’t ask for your opinion.” You huff, the nerves in your stomach knotting together, weaving an intricate pattern that has your head spinning. 

“This has gotten too far, your pathetic attempts for attention were amusing at first – but you’re taking it too far.” He states with all the certainty in the world. Is this what he thought it was? You splutter at the incredulity, the one time you’re not doing something for attention is the time he takes notice of your efforts outside of his snide remarks?

“This isn’t a ploy for attention, I’m moving out because I want to.” You say, surprising even yourself with your even tone. You’d never spoken to him– no, you’d never spoken to anyone in your family in such a sure tone. It felt almost nice to stand up for yourself, “I’m allowed to do things because I want to, I’m a person outside of my surname.”

He seems taken aback by your comment, his brows furrowing in a way reminiscent of Bruce, his hands twitch – itching to reach out and remind you of your place. How dare you speak back to him? To Damian, family was everything. The paramount which molded him into what he was. With his parents both having legacies he has to live up to, expectations he needs to meet. Without his family, what is he? Without his Mother and Father, both powerful figures, he’s just Damian. His family dynamic is important. He’s shaped his everything based on the roles everyone plays, from Richard, to Jason, to Drake down to you. Even you, as useless and pathetic as you are, maintain a role in it all.

Your threats to leave breaks that apart, he’ll have to pick up the pieces and scar his hands once more to rebuild it. He doesn’t want that to happen, you can’t just leave without any warning, you’re much too weak-willed to survive without the family shielding you. Can’t you see, (Name)?

“Why don’t you try to actually converse and communicate your thoughts before immediately running away like a coward?” Damian asks, his hands clenching as he breathes through his nose. It’s not worth losing his temper now, not over you.

What he didn’t expect is the harsh laugh that emanates from your throat, “That’s – shit, that’s really funny, Damian.” You say between huffs, your head tilting back. Was he for real?

You’d spent your entire life with only a sullen shadow to keep you company, forced to follow behind a pitiful loser such as yourself. It’d cradle you close, threading your fingers and coaxing you to reach out for a mirage of a family you could’ve, no, you should’ve had. It holds you close, squeezing your heart in it’s hands, you had nothing but loneliness to keep you company, despite your cries for more.

In that sullen time, you reached out, cried until your throat was scratchy and your voice hoarse, until the words of pleading for affections became so natural you’d utter them in your sleep. The loneliness became so unbearable, you would try your very hardest for someone, anyone to look at you with even a slither of warmth.

You picked up many extracurricular activities, drowning yourself in sports, gymnastics, writing, choir – trophies and medals stashed under your bed – a testament of your failure to be seen. You’d skip home, a pretty, golden medal around your neck, only for each of them to walk past you, to ignore your efforts. It was soul-crushing, the loneliness you experienced.

How dare he stand there and accuse you of not communicating? Was the small child, pawing at their legs for them to merely look at you not enough? The mere accusation, the prospect of this whole thing being a ploy for attention, and not your own personal development was enough to make your skin crawl with anger, your flesh thumming as you fight the urge to reach over and show him just how communicative you could be.

“You don’t get to say anything like that to me anymore, I’m done trying to chase after all of you.” You reply, a sickly feeling groveling through your throat – rage simmering in your stomach. “I’m leaving because I am my own person, because I’m no longer content being just (Name) Wayne.” Damian watches as you push past him, your footsteps hard and heavy as you stomp away, his eyes trail on your back and he distinctly wonders if the nagging feeling pulling on his heart is the same way you felt all those years ago.

“We won’t let you go.” Those were his parting words, echoing in the Manor’s walls, the eyes of each painting, each portrait staring at you. Only at you.

‘We won’t let you go’, how disgustingly egotistical. You weren’t some possession, you were your own person. Living in this loveless Manor is what got you killed last time around, you don’t want that to happen again.

But there was a strange finality in his words that made your head ache, a sense of impending doom encasing your neck firmly, like a warning – a rope that threatens to pull you up if you stray too far. It was terrifying, and it had you second guessing everything.

The future had changed, and you had a nagging feeling that this time around, you’ll be centre stage.

And for once, you hope you’re not.

By the time you reached the Manor’s doors, the exchange with Damian was still heavy in your mind, you couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something is off. This isn’t how the future is supposed to go, you’re supposed to stay as a figure in the background, you’re not supposed to converse with Bruce or squabble with Damian.

Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been that big if you missed the catalyst, so those weird exchanges should be the end of it all. What’s two conversations with your family? You’re overthinking everything, again!

That’s all that’ll change, you hum, reaching for the door handle.

“(Name)!”

Oh, what the fuck. Who now?

As you turn around with a scrunched up expression, you almost faint. Dick Grayson, your big brother is running towards you – a sickly sweet smile plastered on his face.

A bitter taste fills your mouth, you’re acutely aware of how warm your saliva is – how your throat seems to close up and plug all your scary emotions deep inside you. This is really odd. Never in your life had Dick spoke to you first, what was going on? You barely fight back the urge to combust into tears as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

What the fuck?! You’re too dumbfounded to notice the way he subtly shifts your body so that he’s between you and the door, your face pressed against his chest.

This goes beyond simple conversations, you cannot recall a single time you’ve ever been embraced by anyone in your family. What the fuck!? Your mind blanks for a few moments before you attempt push him away.

He pulls away slowly after a moment, his arms staying planted on your shoulders, heavy – restricting. “What are you doing down here, you heading somewhere?” He smiles, but you can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes. What does he want from you? What the actual hell is going on?

“I was going out for a walk.” You mumble, your eyes looking everywhere, everywhere except Dick. His attention is suffocating, in the last timeline you’d probably drop to your knees and thank whatever deity has graced you with such benevolence, thank the stars above that your big brother just hugged you. But right now, all you feel is an oppressive, overbearing anxiety.

Your heart punches against your rib cage, threatening to break free and spill out, it was so intense you felt in your ears, in your lungs – everywhere, down to your very fingertips. Each breath felt like a dozen blades being shoved down your throat, the anxious feeling in your stomach reaching forward to encase your throat, squeezing until you can’t breathe. “A walk? I’d love to join!” Dick declares with a strange tone of certitude, throwing his arm across your shoulder, but you stay firmly in place – refusing to move a single inch. This wasn’t good, your brother sent you a confused expression at the silence coming from you. This wasn’t like you, a few years ago – even the promise of hanging out with you had you cheesing from ear to ear.

So why did you look so– terrified?

“I’m– I suddenly remembered I have homework to do, bye.” You shrug his arm off you, before practically sprinting away, you were sure that staying by his side any longer would have you breaking down. You ignore the indignant shout from Dick, your lungs burning as you speed towards your room. You cannot deal with another impromptu meeting with anyone from your family, your heart cannot take such stress! I mean, you were twenty-one a few days ago, and by trying to live a life away from the stifling Manor, you’ve inadvertently caused some sort of change.

You’ve got to figure out what went wrong, you haven’t made some grand gesture, hell, you haven’t made an effort to even reach out. So what is it that’s happened, what have you done that’s unlocked the branch towards your family? The branch that poor child (Name) was desperate to nurture. Why is it sprouting now?

Dick stays stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed and his mouth gaping. You – ran away? He expected a lot when he saw you leaving, he expected that by embracing his poor sibling, you’d open up to him, tell him your fears so that he can guide you away from a future where you move away, what nonsense.

But instead of crying and looking up at him with those familiar eyes, you looked at him as though he had done something wrong, as if he had scared you. Then you ran away! You! You ran away from him? Him!

His fists clench as he lets out a heavy sigh, soothing the frustration inside him. You looked scared, why on earth were you scared? Could it be you were scared of him?

..

Impossible, he’s your dear, older brother! There’s no way you would ever be scared of him, not when you used to follow him around like a duckling, your eyes sparkling with excitement, clutching onto him no matter how many times he had pushed you away.

So why? Why did you look so terrified? Where was that awe-struck expression? His heart clenches as though someone was squeezing it, pumping it so quickly he’s sure it’s minutes aways from popping.

You’re not scared of him – you’re probably just.. shy. Too nervous to speak, that must be it! Poor you, you just don’t know how to speak up properly, to ask for affection. You’ve grown from that small star struck child to a socially inept larger child! That’s okay, he understands. He’s alright with guiding you, like a good big brother should.

It’s not too late, no, he has more than enough time.

You’re one interaction away from ripping your hair out of your head and strangling yourself with it. You could deal with that awkward conversation with Bruce, Alfred probably paid him to check in on you – and squabbles with Damian, no big deal, that’s all a-okay. But Dick! Hugging you? Asking you to go on a walk with him? What happened!?

You groan into your pillow, your hands clutching onto your hair with frustration, with another deep sigh, you sit up and ponder.

What has changed? What happened for this drastic change in your family to occur? Excuses for Dick’s behaviour were stale on your tongue, he did that of his own free will, of his own volition. Fuck, you need a cigarette. Instinctively, your hands reach into your pockets.

Oh right, you’re sixteen. How annoying, nothing good is coming from this ‘second chance’ bullshit. With each passing day, the likelihood of your billionaire father, Bruce Wayne, giving you money is growing increasingly slim, so you have finances to worry about again. You're closer to becoming Batman than you are to moving out.

This is really so bothersome.

tag list (open, ask to be added) ; @estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo

sorry yall i was gonna post this six hours ago but i ended up watching young sheldon instead also sorry for the bum ass chapter im eager to get to the next park

jason and tim r coming dw

[starryjake]

truth or dare | s.j

in which your best friend, jake, finds out you want him and makes your fantasy come true.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: f receiving oral sex, munch jake obviously, you touch his dick over the pants lol, stripping (lmk if i missed anything).

it was an accident, jake swore. not only was it an accident but it was partly your fault for leaving your laptop wide open for anyone to see.

you were in the bathroom and your laptop was pinging and pinging and pinging nonstop with text messages. jake was laying on your bed, his eyes glued to the tv, but he was beginning to lose focus from how often your computer was pinging.

finally, he couldn’t stand the sound anymore and grabbed your laptop from the edge of your bed. all he was going to do was turn it off and be done with it, but on the screen, he something that caught his eye.

your text messages were open and he saw his name so he just had to look, to know why you were talking about him with your friend.

his eyes widened when he saw why he was mentioned in your texts.

messages coming from you that started with fairly tame things like: “jake looks so good today,” “jake’s cologne is making me go crazy.”

but the more he scrolled, the more texts he found that were just purely vulgar, absolute filth like: “NEED him to eat me out till im crying,” and “bet he moans so pretty,” and even, “need his dick all the way down my throat asap.”

jake almost thought he was being pranked. he simply could not wrap his around the fact that you—his best friend of nearly five years—wanted him.

quite honestly, jake kind of thought that the two of you strictly had a sibling-like-friendship. you always teased him and fought with him like he was an older brother, and he always protected you and teased you back like you were his little sister.

but you wanted him. if those texts were anything to go off of, then you certainly did not see him as a brother.

suddenly, the bathroom door opened. jake practically threw your laptop back to the end of the bed and laid back against your pillows like he wasn’t doing anything.

you walked into the room and sat down next to him with a sigh.

“alright, did you pick a movie?” you asked.

jake wasn’t paying attention to a word you said. all he could focus on was how far you were sitting from him on your bed. how was he ever supposed to find out you liked him if you wouldn’t even go near him?

“jake,” you said, pushing his arm to get his attention.

“huh?” he said. “no, i haven’t picked yet.”

“jeez, what have you even been doing in here the whole time?” you wondered, taking the remote from him to choose a movie yourself.

you would definitely not want to know what he was doing just minutes before you came in the room.

-

jake didn’t focus during the movie. he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried.

how could he watch a movie when you were right there next to him, probably thinking about him and all the dirty things you wanted to do with him.

it was driving jake crazy. this new piece of information, this secret you’ve been carrying for god knows how long, jake had it now and did not know what to do with it.

“this movie is kinda boring,” he finally spoke.

“seriously? it’s nominated for like four oscar’s,” you responded.

“let’s do something else,” jake suggested.

huffing, you sat up slightly and turned off the movie. you then looked over at jake.

“what do you wanna do?” you asked.

jake shifted his body to face you instead of the tv. you tried to calm your thoughts, your thoughts that were far from pg, but he looked amazing. his black hair was slightly more grown out that normal and messy against your pillow. he was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants which is how you liked him best, in comfy clothes.

“we could play a game or something,” he suggested.

“what game?” you wondered.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged. “like, truth or dare or something.”

you snorted. “really?”

“c’mon,” he pouted.

by just looking at his face and that sweet little pout he gave, a flip practically switched in you and suddenly you would do just about anything he asked.

“okay,” you gave in. “truth or dare?”

jake pondered for a moment. he wanted to steer the game in a direction that would get you to admit your feelings for him. he needed to hear it from your mouth because he was still having a hard time believing those text messages.

“truth,” jake replied.

“okay,” you thought for a second. “if you had to hook up with one of your guy friends, who would you pick?”

“god, you’re the worst at asking questions,” jake groaned. “but sunghoon, obviously.”

“figured,” you replied. “your turn.”

“truth or dare?” he asked you.

considering you were comfy where you were laying in your bed, you didn’t want to pick dare in case he dared you to do something that required getting up.

“truth,” you said.

“if you had to hook up with one of the guys, who would you pick?” he asked.

you pondered. obviously you knew who you would choose but you couldn’t tell him that.

“i don’t know,” you lied. “probably heeseung.”

“yeah right,” jake scoffed.

“what?” you frowned. “he’s hot.”

jake could feel himself getting frustrated.

“your turn,” he said.

“truth or dare?”

“dare,” he answered.

“i dare you to show me the last picture in your camera roll,” you said.

you didn’t think much of it, but out of all the dares you could’ve given him, jake would’ve chosen anything else. he knew what the last picture in his camera roll was.

“actually, i pick truth,” he said.

“you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. “now you really have to show me.”

“i don’t think you wanna see it,” he tried to warn.

“what, is it a dick pic or something?” you joked. you joked. but then you saw jake’s face and his lack of words and knew that it really was a picture of his dick. “what the fuck, jake?”

“it’s not a full one,” he reasoned. “it’s just like…my bulge in a pair of sweatpants.”

yeah, you wanted to see it really bad. but you didn’t want him to know that. you didn’t need him to know that you were already getting wet at the mere thought of seeing that kind of picture of your best friend.

“well…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “a dare is a dare.”

jake tried not to smirk. he knew it, knew you wanted to see it.

he pulled out his phone and opened the picture. it was a mirror picture. he was shirtless in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, not even wearing underwear underneath. his outline was very clear since he was hard when he took the picture.

slightly nervous, jake handed you his phone. you took it, looking at the picture. it was even better than you imagined.

he didn’t miss the way you gulped and the way you instinctively zoomed in on the picture to get an even better look.

but you didn’t say anything. you didn’t tell him he looked good or anything. you just nodded and handed him his phone back.

“ok, your turn,” you said.

“what?” jake frowned. “you don’t have anything to say?”

“why would i have anything to say?” you wondered.

“because i just showed you a picture of…well, that,” he said. “you have nothing to say about it?”

“no,” you laughed. “gross.”

you were being so hard to get, it was actually driving him crazy. he knew you wanted him so why were you being so difficult about it?

“fine,” he scoffed. “truth or dare?”

“dare,” you said, hoping he’ll take it easy on you and not make you get up.

“take off your shirt.”

you immediately gave him a glare.

“dude, what?” you said.

“a dare is a dare,” he replied, repeating your words from a few minutes ago.

“why would i take off my shirt?” you asked.

“because i’m telling you to,” he responded, his eyes darkening.

the way he said it suddenly made you really want to take it off, wanting to obey any command he gave you.

you sat up a bit and started pulling your sweater over your head. all you had on underneath was a thin, light pink bra. your nipples were visibly hard beneath it and jake was already twitching in his pants at the sight.

once your shirt was off, you looked at him expectantly. his eyes flickered down to your chest and back up to your face.

he hummed in satisfaction.

“cute,” he said quietly.

it wasn’t much but the word went straight to your face, turning your cheeks red. oddly, you didn’t feel like covering yourself up. in fact, you would show more of yourself if you knew jake was going to compliment you.

“okay,” you whispered. “truth or dare.”

“dare,” he picked again.

“i dare you the same thing,” you said.

he was hoping you would.

smirking, he pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

now, you were really starting to get nervous. you had no idea what was going on but you and jake were shirtless in your bed. you liked the feeling though, and you wanted more.

you stared at his bare chest and abdomen, the slight trace of abs making you squeeze your thighs together.

“like what you see?” he chuckled at you checking him out shamelessly. “wanna feel?”

“shut up,” you muttered, turning your head that other way.

“no, really,” jake said. “feel it.”

he suddenly grabbed your hand and placed it against his warm naked abdomen. he guided your hand up and down his chest so you could feel every part, every indent of his body.

he could tell he was finally getting to you. you were submitting to him, losing your uninterested demeanor and he was damn glad about it. he needed to uncover the you that wanted him desperately.

“mmm,” he hummed, basically moaning just from your hand rubbing his body.

he was bold when he very gently and slowly dragged your hand down even further until it was brushing over his waistband and to the front of his sweatpants, right where his growing cock was.

you looked up at his face in shock, but his eyes were closed. he was biting his bottom lip, fully engrossed in this and the feeling of your hand pressed flat on his covered cock.

he kept your hand there, not even making you move it or grip his erection, but just having you feel it. it was entirely hard and just having your hand on it, you could feel it pulsate.

weakly, you began to wrap your fingers around the outline, but he squeezed your wrist and pulled your hand off of him before you could.

his eyes opened and when you looked at each other, he just smirked.

“truth or dare?”

he asked it so calm and casually like your hand wasn’t just on his dick. you didn’t even quite know what to say, unsure how you were supposed to go about playing the game after that.

“uh, t-truth?” you sputtered out, purely confused about what was going on.

“how long have you wanted to do that?” he asked.

your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment.

“what?” you asked.

“how long have you wanted to touch my cock?” he wondered. “how long have you wanted me?”

“who said i want you?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

obviously you did want him, but you didn’t know how he knew that.

“i saw the texts,” he told you. he could still tell you were confused so he added, “the texts with you and your friend, talking about how badly you wanted me. god, the things you were saying were just filthy, y/n. i had no idea you felt that way.”

your heart sunk. suddenly, you didn’t want to do any of this anymore. you were utterly humiliated that jake found out you liked him and even more so by how he found out.

“jake, i-i—” you sputtered. “please. i don’t—”

you couldn’t figure out what to say.

“so?” he said. “how long?”

you bowed your head in shame.

“a long time,” you mumbled. “‘m sorry.”

jake tilted your head back up by your chin, smiling softly at your blushing face. you were so cute when you were embarrassed, he was almost doing all this on purpose.

“why are you sorry?” he asked. “i never said i didn’t feel the same, did i?”

this could not be good for your heart. all this slowing of your heart race only for it to pick back up again so quickly. but now you were filled with hope and excitement.

“really?” you asked eagerly, pathetically almost.

“c’mon, let’s keep playing,” he said.

“truth or dare,” you said.

“truth,” he replied.

“what did you think when you saw those texts?” you wondered sheepishly.

he chuckled a bit.

“i guess i was thinking about how i didn’t realize my best friend was so horny for me,” he said, his voice deep and sexy. you squirmed, your body unbearably hot. “now, truth or dare?”

you were nervous to pick dare to see what he would make you do next, but more than nervous, you were excited. so, you did it.

“dare.”

jake knew what he was going to dare you was bold, but he was hard as a rock in his pants and needed you now.

“i dare you to let me eat you out.”

he expected some kind of shock and disgust from you, but that was not the response you gave him.

ever since you’ve known him, you’ve wanted him between your thighs. so now that he was actually offering, why would you reject that?

“okay,” you whispered, still nervous despite wanting it.

he watched in surprise as you lifted your hips up and pulled both your pants and underwear down at once. you looked over at him, waiting for him to follow through with your dare.

“fuck,” he muttered, still in shock that you were suddenly naked right next to him. “didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

you couldn’t argue. you did want him that bad.

he got up and positioned himself between your legs, face to face with your pussy. he held your thighs while he stared at it, in awe that it was really right there in front of him, his to devour.

“it’s so pretty,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on your clit. “never knew my best friend had such a pretty little pussy.”

his words sent heat all over your body. you were embarrassed but more than that, you were just so unbelievably turned on. jake looked so good between your legs and you knew he’d look even better once he was actually eating you out.

“please,” you urged, jutting your hips up impatiently.

jake finally licked a stripe up your slit, starting from the bottom all the way up to the top. he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning at the taste in his mouth.

“fuckkk,” you moaned out, head falling back against your pillows.

he alternated between sucking and licking your clit, using the tip of his tongue to rub it in little circles and watching the way it moved up and down and to the side. he was eventually just making out with it, eyes closed in concentration and pleasure.

after a moment, he pulled back, a string of saliva keeping his lips attached to your glistening pearl. he then leaned back in and starting licking up and down your pussy in firm, fluid strokes, gathering all of your arousal on his tongue and swallowing it.

you dug your fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick strands which only fueled jake even more. he moaned against your cunt, eyes rolling slightly from getting his hair played with and pulled.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he said, his breath warm on your pussy. “such a good pussy too. fuck, i want it all over my face.”

he dived back in, pushing his face into your pussy as much as he could. his nose rubbed against your puffy clit as his tongue delved inside your hole. he pushed it in as deep as it could possibly go, feeling your warm plushy walls around him.

“fuck, jake!” you yelled.

he sucked on your folds and back on your clit, suddenly intoxicated by the delicious taste of your pussy. it was just so hot, so sweet and tight and perfect. he truly could not get enough and genuinely wanted to drink your arousal.

“oh my god,” he moaned. “you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, baby. fuck, it’s so good.”

your legs shook on either side of his head. you were feeling weaker and weaker by the second, his tongue moving like lightning and filling you with sparks.

he flicked the tip of his tongue up and down your slit, tilting his head to the side and resting it on your quivering thigh. the wet sound of his tongue flicking up and down your folds was driving you to the edge.

you couldn’t even warm him that it was about to happen. it just happened.

“mmm, i’m cumming,” you slurred, so drunk on the feeling that you could hardly speak.

you gripped his hair extra tight, pushing your hips up into his face. he ate your perfect cunt and drank every last droplet of your arousal that dripped out of you.

you were dizzy and moaning loudly and carelessly as you grinded your cunt against his face, riding out your high. your pussy was so wet, drenched in your own cum and jake’s saliva.

when you were finally finished, jake sat up and collapsed next to you, his lips, nose, and chin all glistening in your arousal.

you turned your head to face him, your cheeks red. the shock of what you two had just done was kicking in.

you weren’t sure what you two were supposed to do now and where to go from there. you were best friends and best friends weren’t supposed to do what you’d just done.

“wanna finish that movie?” jake asked casually, as though he wasn’t just tongue deep in your cunt.

“sure,” you agreed, as though you weren’t just cumming all over his face.

he wrapped his arm around you and played the movie again, the two of you laying there without acknowledging what happened.

-

:3 teehee munch jake :3 teehee best friend jake

thanks for reading!

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.

[shomatoriashi]

08/27/24; 07:30pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they’re feeling playful ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

sylus can get very obnoxious if your attention isn’t solely on him. it’s true that he’ll spare you some time when you ask him to stay by your side while getting some work done. however, once the day morphs into night, and he realizes that you have yet to turn your gaze away from your laptop’s screen / phone-

all hell will break loose sylus will find a way to get your attention.

with your eyes hyper focused on the tasks at hand, sylus will take out his phone and type several times on its screen before suddenly standing from his spot next to you on the couch. with his arms cross, he’ll let out a huff of your name before grabbing a hold of your device and tossing it the the side of the room. a gasp would come from your parted lips, with several words of protests coming together in a mesh of panic.

“sy! that was a really expensive device! and what if you just erased my work?!”

sylus would let out a scoff in response. “what? that old thing? as if i haven’t already backed up all your work here.” he points to his phone while giving you a mischievous glint. “and besides, as long as you ask nicely, sweetie, i can replace that old thing with a mere snap of my fingertips. now come, you’ve already wasted the whole day away, and i’m not about to let you intrude on the night as well.”

his haughty tone echoes throughout the living room, making you roll your eyes when you finally decided to humor your boyfriend. watching him put on biker clothes, your eyes shamelessly follow how each piece of leather perfectly fits his body. just as you were close to admiring the curve of his ass, sylus turns around to smirk at you.

“what is it, sweetie? like what you see?”

you roll your eyes but match with sylus’s teasing nature, slapping his backside with the palm of your hand as the impact was heard echoing throughout the room. a cute, yet almost offended expression crosses his features, and it was more than enough to have you giggling in response. he rolls his eyes and takes a hold of your hand, leaning down to bite against the palm of it, his crimson eyes shining with mirth.

“i’ll take my revenge on you soon enough, love, but for now we must go.”

sylus tosses you your helmet, taking a hold of your hand as you leave the penthouse together. once you stepped into the parking garage and saw sylus’s motorcycle, you knew that you were in for a treat.

despite your prior annoyance with him tossing aside your work, admittedly, you were grateful for his forced distraction. once sylus gets on his bike, shoving aside the kickstand while revving up the engine, you don your helmet and took your place behind him.

surrounded by the faint scent of leather and his cologne, you cling to sylus as he quickly speeds out of the garage. giggling at the sensation of your stomach dropping with each turn as the scenery flew by you, you felt so free with the wind whipping through your hair.

a few minutes later, sylus slows down his bike and parks in front of a secluded building tucked away behind the cityscape. taking off his helmet first, sylus gives you an almost gentle smile, helping you out of your own helmet before walking into the hidden building.

upon entering, a man dressed in a pristine suit bows down to sylus before taking both helmets from his hands. “good evening, mr. sylus. your table has already been prepared for you.”

taking a hold of your hand, sylus leads you deeper into what you assumed was a high-end restaurant. the atmosphere was incredibly intimate, with shades of black and burgundy filling your vision as the entire place was lit up by various candles. sylus continues his trek until he reaches a private dining room.

your eyes go wide upon seeing the whole table filled with all of your favorite foods, the scents of it all invading your senses as you could feel your mouth watering in response. your stomach begins to growl, earning a rich chuckle from sylus as he helps you sit down on one of the chairs.

“go on and feast, love. i know you need some calories to prepare you for tonight.”

a flustered expression paints your features, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to protest any further with him, already digging into the food while letting out appreciative moans here and there.

sylus simply remains across from you, sipping at his red wine while basking in your every expression of contentment and pleasure, already anticipating those same expressions once you were finally beneath him while in the comfort of your bed.

upon realizing that the city was caught in a blizzard, neither you nor zayne made any effort to leave your shared home. as the snow piled on, zayne made sure to keep you warm by cooking various soups and stews along with some perfectly toasted bread to help with keeping you satisfied and full.

basking in the intensity of the heater and how comfortable the blankets were while they surrounded your pliant form, it was safe to say that you made little to no effort to get out of bed. and being the kind lover that he was, zayne allowed you to simply bask in the warmth without ever feeling the discomfort of the chilling blizzard.

in ways that zayne would never ever admit to you, he was grateful for the blizzard. since such drops in temperatures were something that you just weren’t quite used to, it made you cling to him (almost greedily), seeking for his warmth while remaining ever so close to him.

it may be a little pathetic for zayne to admit, but, the doctor didn’t get much sleep last night simply because he was basking in the way you were cuddled up so closely to him. eventually, his eyelids began to grow heavier as he fell into a peaceful slumber while dreaming of you (always dreaming of you).

while you slept, you remained oh so warm, safely wrapped up within zayne’s embrace while having the comforters shield the rest of your body from any cold air that dared to disturb you.

however, such feelings of warmth seemed to seep away from you when morning came. as the sun began shining through your curtains, you became achingly aware of how much colder the other side of the bed had become, making you shiver as you immediately opened your eyes. it takes a moment for you to adjust to the sunlight, seeing it paint your shared room in brighter hues.

wiping the sleep from your eyes, you call out to zayne, only to receive no answer in return. feeling like you were missing a piece of yourself without zayne by your side, you scan the room and see your sweater laying across one of the armchairs. brushing the tangles out of your hair, you smooth out your pajamas and put on your sweater, shivering slightly before continuing your search for zayne.

lucky for you, you didn’t have to search for long, for the moment you headed towards the kitchen, you caught sight of your backyard and had to do a double take. settled outside, you saw life sized figures made entirely of snow that was in the shape of all your favorite plushies. there was huggy bear, fleecy, to little narwie and even chubby pig! becoming enamored with such cuteness, you step out into your backyard, bare feet lightly touching at the soft snow as you admired each and every plushie made from snow.

and the more you admired each snowy figurine, the more you realized that these were all plushies zayne had won specifically for you during the many dates you spent at the arcade.

just as you were about to step forward, a powerful arm was felt wrapping around your abdomen. with a hum and a smile, you close your eyes and sway within zayne’s embrace, allowing him to place a kiss against your hair.

“what do you think?” his soft voice was heard whispering within your ear, so filled with longing as he prayed that this little surprise was enough to help with brightening your day. your giggles fill at the air when you turn around to face him, a genuine smile gracing your features when you wrap your arms around his neck.

“i love them…” just as much as i love you, you wanted to say to him, yet held back those words that threatened to bubble against your throat-

yet zayne seemed to understand you all the same, simply letting out a soft whisper of your name (much like a reverent prayer) before leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

it was in the middle of spring, and you were asleep when a series of knocks were heard coming from your window. as you tried to ignore the strange, yet incessant sounds, it seemed to get louder, making your once deep slumber slip away from you.

you groan upon being woken up. your eyes, still sensitive to the light, you reach over to blindly grasp at your phone, unlocking it to see the time read 02:00am along with a text from xavier:

hey, r u awake??

wiping the moisture from your eyes, you let out a yawn before replying back to him:

what do you think i’m doing?? i’m sleeping xavier. are you okay? do you need help?

look outside ur window.

filled with confusion, you draw back the covers and get out of bed, your bare feet meeting the carpeted floors as you followed xavier’s text and look out your window. upon doing so, you were shocked to see xavier himself waving at you while throwing another pebble at your window.

your eyes go wide when you open your window. “xavier? why are you here?”

he shrugs before stepping closer to you. “jump down, i want to take you somewhere.”

your mind was spinning, wondering why your boyfriend couldn’t be normal just this once. “what? babe, it’s late. can’t this wait-“

“absolutely not.” a rare smirk graces his handsome features as he keeps his hands outreached to you. “come on, there’s no time to waste. just jump in my arms and trust me.”

with a roll of your eyes, you straighten your shirt and shorts, climbing over the ledge of your window before making your descent down towards xavier. within seconds, he captures you in his embrace, smiling down at you while giving your forehead an audible kiss.

“see? that wasn’t so bad, right?”

you giggle and playfully shake your head, “no, it wasn’t too bad.”

xavier keeps you within his embrace, carrying you to what you assumed would be his destination. a comfortable silence falls between you and your beloved hunter, and you became curious upon seeing a large blanket spread out on a grassy hill. a lantern was seen lighting up the area as xavier gently settles you on the soft blankets.

you meet his gaze, watching xavier’s every movement when he suddenly shuts off the lantern, painting the area in complete darkness. you felt a little anxious with the lack of light, but feeling xavier wrap his arms around you while bringing your body on top of his lap makes your fears disappear into thin air.

“look.” he points a finger at the skies, and you follow his gaze before letting out a gasp. surrounding you were what seemed like millions of stars twinkling across the night sky, captivating you completely as you drink in the sight.

wishing to burn this moment into your very memories, you look back at your beloved and call out his name. letting out a hum, xavier meets your gaze, and from this lighting and angle, it appeared as though his very eyes were reflecting the stars. with your own gaze filled with adoration for him, you lean closer to him, slotting your lips against his in a perfect kiss as you burned this moment into your memories.

when rafayel places a blindfold over your eyes, you knew you were in for quite a treat. trusting your boyfriend completely, you follow him, never once letting go of his hand.

“almost there.” rafayel’s voice was heard reassuring you, and when you found that your sandals began to sink into the sand, you visibly relax while giggling. your beloved artist joins you in your laughter, his rich chuckle further providing comfort for you. a few minutes later, rafayel stops walking and lets go of your hand. humming your name, he gently unties the blindfold and takes the simple cloth away from your eyes.

it takes you a moment to adjust to your surroundings, but it was clear from the fresh scent of the ocean and the sensation of sand on your feet that you were at the beach. once you could finally see, you let out an awed gasp, seeing that you were indeed, on a beach, but with not a single person in sight.

you meet rafayel’s playful gaze and ask, “d-did you book this beach all for ourselves or something?”

yet he refuses to elaborate, simply giving you a playful wink before stating, “it’s a secret.”

he beckons at you to take off your sandals before helping you sit down on the blanket. with you both settled down, rafayel brings over the picnic basket, feeding you several servings of your favorite sandwiches along with some chips and a simple salad. as you bask in this perfect weather, you continue enjoying your lunch while looking out at the sea.

once you had your fill of food did rafayel make his move. watching as you finished taking a sip from your bottle of water, your boyfriend grabs a hold of you, taking you in his arms as he carried you bridal style towards the ocean. your giggles were heard echoing throughout the area when rafayel steps into the water.

he allows the gentle waves to surround your forms, with your laughter turning louder each time the water was felt soaking into your shirt and shorts. after spending some time jumping with the waves, rafayel carries you back against the shores, purposely landing against the shallow waters. your squeals of delight were all that could be heard as rafayel leans down to kiss you deeply, swallowing your laughter while delving his fingers into damp hair, pulling you even closer to him.

and with your lips locked with his in a searing kiss while surrounded by the ocean waters, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend this day with your beloved lover.

end notes: i’m long overdue to write fluff for all the lads men, so have this ♡ not edited yet, but i still don’t trust tumblr drafts!! i’ll make any changes once this is posted ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[fandoms-x-reader]

Wearing Their Clothes

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers' reactions to seeing you wear an article of their clothing.

Of all the things that surprised you in the Devildom, one of the biggest shocks was the fact that it had weather just like the Human Realm. Of course, there were many representations of what “Hell” looked like. You just never saw one that showed it raining or snowing there. So, when large snowflakes started falling, to say you were both shocked and confused would be an understatement.

You were still at RAD when it started snowing. There had been a mandatory student council meeting; and, afterwards, Lucifer had asked you to stay behind and help him with some paperwork.

Diavolo had asked Lucifer to have the exchange students fill out a survey on how their time in the Devildom had been so far; and, since you were already with him, he thought yours would be the easiest to fill out.

He was pleasantly surprised when you had nothing but praise to give Lucifer. He wore a proud smile as you talked about how much you’ve been enjoying your time in the Devildom. He loved hearing you talk about it - each commendation making him feel the all-too-familiar emotion that had been bestowed upon his demon form. 

He was having such a great time, in fact, that he didn’t realize how late it had gotten until he looked out the window and noticed how dark it was outside. 

“We must have lost track of time,” Lucifer told you before offering to walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Not that you had a choice in the matter. After all, it was far too dangerous for you to walk back by yourself.

The second you stepped outside of RAD, you immediately regretted it. The cold air bit at your skin as the snow continued to fall. You cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket; but, how were you supposed to know that it was going to snow in the Devildom today.

You walked silently alongside Lucifer, doing your best to keep your teeth from chattering. Lucifer studied you as the two of you walked. You were usually more chatty. Was something wrong?

He looked at your appearance. Your complexion was flushed, your body slightly shivering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow as suddenly he understood what was happening - you were cold.

Lucifer was immediately taking off his large fur cape and offering it to you. The gesture warmed your heart, but you declined. He needed it or else he would be cold - you argued. Lucifer would make an argument about how much more fragile humans were than demons and then tell you, “Besides, I can’t have you die from the cold. It would be a bad look for Lord Diavolo.”

You chuckled at his words before agreeing, realizing Lucifer wasn’t going to back down. He helped place his cape over your shoulders, securing it in place. You were immediately thankful for the warmth the cape provided - the color almost instantly returning to your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you in his cape - the sheer size of it nearly enveloping your entire body. The snow fell on top of you, your hair and eyelashes being coated in white. You looked beautiful. 

Lucifer admired you the whole way home, hoping that it would snow more often in the Devildom so that he could see you in his cape more often.

Mammon liked to spend a lot of time in your room. After all, he was your “first” so why shouldn’t he be allowed in there whenever he liked. He would spend countless hours in there with you. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, as long as you were hanging out. Some nights, by the time you were done, it would be so late that he would just stay the night in there.

So, it was no surprise when he accidentally left one of his shirts in your room. It was just a plain, black t-shirt. Nothing truly identifiable about it. Because of that, you had accidentally mistaken it for one of your shirts. 

Mammon however knew the difference. He had been looking for that shirt, not knowing where he had misplaced it.

He came to check for it in your room, barging in without knocking. “Oi, Y/N,” he began but stopped realizing the room was empty. He heard the faint sound of water running coming from the bathroom and realized you were taking a shower. He sat down on your bed, deciding to wait for you.

He scrolled on his D.D.D. for a while until the water turned off. Then a few minutes later, you came out of the bathroom - wearing his shirt.

Mammon felt his heart stop as his eyes were glued to you, his D.D.D. long forgotten about. You were surprised to see Mammon sitting in your room and you were about to say something when you noticed the deep red blush that coated his cheeks as he sat there looking incredibly flustered. “Mammon, are you okay?”

He wouldn't answer your question. Instead, he asked, “I-Is that my shirt?!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the black shirt you were wearing, now recognizing it as his. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you told him.

Mammon was a mess. The shirt clung to your body in the best way possible, leading Mammon’s mind to wander to different images of you in that shirt…and out of it. Noticing his expression you said, “I can change.”

“N-No!” Mammon said, jumping off the bed now. That was the last thing he wanted. Realizing his slip-up, Mammon tried to quickly cover his tracks by saying, “Just be grateful that the great Mammon is letting ya wear his clothes!”

When he does get his shirt back, he immediately notices that it smells like you, something that makes him smile. He will never wear it again or wash it. 

Levi was never supposed to find out.

You were doing a cosplay outfit for one of your favorite animes. You had made several videos online and had gotten a decent amount of likes. You loved it and the amount of online support you got encouraged you to do more and more outfits.

Well, it just so happened that the character you were trying to portray had a specific blue and orange jacket. It was pertinent to the character; but, you had nothing similar. So, you began brainstorming ideas on what you could do to try and replicate the clothing item.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you. You had seen Levi wearing a jacket with the same colors. It wasn’t an exact match but it would be close enough. 

You took in a deep breath as you made your way to the coat closet in the House of Lamentation, praying it was there. 

To your luck, when you opened the door, amongst the miscellaneous other coats, it was hanging up in the closet. You let out a small breath of relief. You reached your hand out to take the jacket but hesitated. Levi would probably freak if he saw you wearing his jacket. But, you really needed it.

You debated the pros and cons of taking the jacket.. One on hand, if you went and asked Levi if you could borrow the jacket, he would most likely mumble something about normies before declining out of embarrassment. Then you would be out of luck. However, if you just borrowed the jacket for a few minutes - just to make the video. Then, you could put it back and he’d never know.

Deciding that was the best course of action, you quickly took the jacket and headed back up to your room. You put the jacket on as the finishing touch and looked in the mirror. Perfect.

You began recording the video, making sure to have the perfect lighting and angle. When you were done, you rewatched it, satisfied with the results. Alright, time to put Levi’s jacket back.

“Hey, Y/N, what-,” Levi suddenly came rushing into the room. Both of you froze in shock. Was that…his? “Levi!” you said, nervously looking at him. You had been caught.

“I can explain,” you told him as his eyes widened and a blush coated his cheeks. Not only were you wearing his clothes like some normie couple, but you looked good in it. 

“I was making a cosplay video and I needed to borrow it,” you admitted. “C-Cosplay?” Levi asked, stuttering out his words as he tried to comprehend the situation.

He let out a small scream as he recognized the character you were dressed up as. It was from one of the animes he recommended to you. His eyes then trailed to the video that was still playing on your D.D.D.

You slowly took off his jacket and handed it back to him, blushing slightly. “Sorry, for taking it without asking.”

Levi took the jacket, not sure what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Y-You’re missing the sunglasses.”

What? Levi looked back at the video again and you understood. Of course! You were missing the sunglasses for the cosplay. You knew you were missing something!

“I-I have a pair that might match,” Levi said, offering you back his jacket. If you were going to make a cosplay video, he was going to be part of it.

“That would be great!” you replied. Levi quickly left to retrieve the sunglasses as you put his jacket back on. He returned within moments, handing you the sunglasses. You put them on the way the character would and Levi asked if he could help you record the video to which you were unbelievably grateful for. 

Levi was smiling the whole time he helped. He couldn’t believe how talented you were in your impression of the character. More importantly, he couldn’t believe you were wearing his clothes!

You were sitting in Satan’s room reading a book while you waited for him to return. The two of you had been spending the afternoon together. You were reading one of your favorites, and he had been doing the same until about a few minutes ago. He had just finished his book and told you he was going to go to the library to get another book. He promised he would return shortly but it had already been several minutes.

You were huddled up underneath a blanket, but you were still cold. It felt like Satan’s room had no heat whatsoever. You let out a small sigh as you tore your eyes from the page, glancing around the room for anything that could help you warm back up. 

You couldn’t see any blankets, but you noticed one of Satan’s sweaters sitting not too far from you. You let out a small sigh as you turned the idea over and over in your head. He wouldn’t be mad if you borrowed it, right? Not if you told him you were cold. 

You wanted to ask Satan’s permission, so you waited a few more minutes, but when you realized he wasn’t going to be coming back for a while - you decided to risk it. 

You quickly jumped out of the blanket and moved over to the sweater. You picked it up carefully, admiring the material before slipping it over your head. You noticed that it smelt like Satan, the scent making you feel like you were enveloped in his arms. 

You clutched the sweater a little closer to you before moving back to your spot and huddling underneath the blanket. You opened your book back up to the spot you were at and got lost in the fictional world once again.

You were so distracted by the words on the page that you didn’t notice when Satan entered the room. He was about to announce his presence when he noticed the familiar article of clothing that you were wearing. 

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you wearing his sweater. You looked so adorable curled up under the blanket, reading a book, while wearing his clothes. It warmed his heart. Satan moved over to you, doing his best to hide his smile. 

He sat down next to you and you had completely forgotten that you were wearing his sweater. As if it was second nature to do so. “Did you find a book?” you asked him.

Satan nodded his head before telling you, “I’m really excited to see how this turns out.” You smiled in response, thinking he was talking about the book. He wasn’t so sure.

From now on, if you were in his presence and looked the slightest bit cold, he would immediately offer you his sweater, wanting to see you in his clothes more often.

Asmo was the resident fashion designer in the House of Lamentation. Whenever someone needed advice on an outfit, they immediately turned to him.; and, it was no secret why. His fashion advice was always on point. He could turn the dullest of outfits into a beautiful masterpiece. 

Tonight, Asmo had invited you to dinner at a new restaurant that had open. They asked him to attend with a plus one to bring more business. After all, he had tons of fans who would go to the restaurant just to see him.

Asmo had asked you to be his plus one, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Until he told you how many people would be looking at the two of you and taking pictures. Then, nerves set in as you began panicking about what to wear.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” Asmo comforted, taking you by your hand to your room. He would have you put on a mini-fashion show for him, trying on multiple different outfits to try and find the right one. But, nothing you had quite fit the vibe of the restaurant. 

Asmo thought for a moment, until he came up with an idea. He had the perfect outfit for you! Asmo quickly brought you to his room, pulling out the outfit and handing it to you. He ushered you into his bathroom, telling you to try it on.

When you did, you were surprised at how well it fit - and how good it looked. You stepped out of the bathroom and at first, Asmo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, a large smile spreading across his face.

“How do I look?” you asked after the silence began to grow awkward. Asmo tried to keep his composure as the thought of you wearing his clothes in public threatened to spark his sin. “That’s the one!” Asmo told you excitedly before helping you do your make-up. By the end of it all, the two of you looked like you had walked straight off the pages of a magazine. 

You made your way to the restaurant and when you got there, you were met with countless cameras. It seemed like everyone wanted to capture the restaurant’s grand opening.

Asmo grabbed your hand as the cameras started flashing, documenting yours and Asmo’s presence. He led you into the restaurant, his smile only growing larger as he thought about you wearing his outfit. The photos would forever document that you were wearing his clothes.

It was a complete accident. 

You had left the House of Lamentation while it was warm out, so you didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Who would?

Well, apparently, it was the biggest mistake you could have made because on your way home, you had found yourself in the middle of a rainstorm. You had no protection from it, the droplets soaking you from head to toe.

You began running to the House of Lamentation, letting out a sigh of relief as you made it to the front door. You quickly entered, thankful to be out of the storm. Then you heard someone behind you. “I see you forgot your umbrella.” You jumped as you turned around and saw Lucifer standing there.

A small blush coated your cheeks as you were embarrassed of the state you were currently in. Lucifer asked you to go to the laundry room so that you didn’t track water everywhere and you agreed, making a beeline towards the room.

When you got there, you quickly took off your wet clothes. You looked around the large room for your basket of laundry, confused when you couldn’t find it.

Then, you realized you had taken it to your room earlier to finish folding the clean clothes. Could this day get any worse.

So, here you were standing naked in the House of Lamentation's laundry room, contemplating how you ended up here. 

You had to come up with something quick before one of the brothers accidentally walked in on you. 

Looking to your right, you saw a large black t-shirt with a design on it. You quickly picked it up, examining it. You had seen Beel wearing it at some point. You held it up to you and noticed that it was so big compared to you. It would be enough to cover you until you could make it to your room. 

You quickly slipped Beel’s shirt on, double-checking that everything was covered before opening the door. All you had to do was make it to your room without being seen. Easy, right?

You turned out of the laundry room, immediately bumping into a large figure. The force caused you to stumble back as you felt two large arms steady you. You looked up to see Beel, looking at you like a confused puppy as he took in your appearance. 

You immediately began blushing as he asked, “Are you wearing my shirt?” Your mind tried to explain the situation, but your words merely came out as a series of stuttered words before you gave up. “It’s a long story,” you told him defeatedly.

Beel could see that you had a long day and he didn’t want to make it worse. So, he didn’t question you any further. Besides, he had to admit it made him feel flustered, seeing you in his clothes. He thought it was adorable how his shirt looked like it was going to swallow you up at any moment.

“Keep it as long as you need,” Beel told you with a small smile. You were thankful that Beel didn’t make things any more awkward as you pushed past him to go to your room.

Beel entered the laundry room to get the rest of his clothes and noticed your discarded clothes. His cheeks felt hot as realized that you were completely nude underneath his shirt. 

He did his best to push out intrusive thoughts as he made his way back to his room, his clean laundry in his arms.  

Revenge.

When it came to you and Belphie, you were sure that was the only reason you did anything anymore. 

Belphie liked to act like a brat and decided to do things he knew would frustrate you because he liked to see the way you would react.

So, he decided to start a prank war with you. But, you were not a pushover; and, you were going to make sure Belphie realized that once and for all. 

So, when he started pulling minor pranks. You let him think he was getting the best of you, until you had pulled a much larger prank on him. You had surprised Belphie with your creativity and your tenacity. But, he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Minor pranks turned into much more serious ones, the two of you so wrapped up in your war that you could hardly pay attention to anything else.

You had just pulled your latest prank of Belphie the day before. You were waiting anxiously for Belphie to pull his prank, constantly watching your back. 

He could strike from anywhere at any time. 

It was getting late, so you had decided Belphie wasn’t going to pull his prank today. You went to your bedroom to go to bed.

However, as soon as you opened the door to your room, you immediately regretted it as a large bucket off water poured on top of you. You let out a small gasp as your clothes were completely drenched. Really?!

You let out a small scoff as you immediately began thinking of retaliation pranks, making your way to your closet to change into a dry pair of clothes.

But, when you got there, you saw that the closet was completely empty. Belphie had taken all of your clothes.

You were fuming as you made your way to the Twin’s Room, bursting through the door to find Belphie in there by himself, lounging on his bed with a smile. 

“Where are my clothes?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belphie replied, smirking back at you.

“All of my clothes are gone,” you stated, knowing full well that he was the culprit. “It looks like you’ll just have to sleep in your wet clothes then,” Belphie replied, turning his attention to his D.D.D.

You glared at him, anger coursing through your veins. He was not winning this one. After realizing Belphie wasn’t going to give you your clothes back, you came up with a new idea.

“Fine,” you told him, marching over to his closet. Belphie tore his eyes away from D.D.D to look up at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching your every move.

“If I can’t wear my clothes, then I’ll just have to wear yours,” you replied, stripping your shirt off before putting his on. The rage you were feeling was clouding your mind to the point where you didn’t even realize you had just undressed in front of Belphie.

Belphie most definitely realized though, the image of your half-naked body being seared into his mind as he looked at you in shock.

You then changed into a pair of Belphie’s sweatpants and his cheeks were stained pink as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Luckily, the shirt had covered most of what he would have seen. But, his imagination was running wild. 

You turned to face him, wearing his clothes and his eyes traced every inch of you. You wore a satisfied smirk as you locked eyes. “Good night,” you stated, walking back out of the twins room, a blush on your cheeks at the way Belphie was looking at you. You won.

[monzabee]

viva las vegas - mv1 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Max celebrate his win in a way you’ve never done before.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, having sex tipsy but there is consent?, manhandling, unprotected sex (are you even surprised at this point), oral (fem receiving), sex (duh), cursing, cockwarming (oops), minors dni!!

Request: “Hey babe! I’m obsessed with your last Charles piece, I’ve been wanting to read something like that for such a long time and you did it perfectly 😍🥹 I was wondering if I could request kind of the same concept with Max Verstappen? Like he always is pictured as a tough guy and stuff, but when you see him in videos he’s kind of a goof, so I imagine the first time he’s intimate with his gf they’d both laugh and have the sweetest time together” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! is this my best work? no but it is something i managed to get done for the first time in like a month so here it is!! finishing this fic was a journey within itself, but i can honestly say that it was also kind fun? also, i saw a picture of max in his suit from vegas and that just inspired this whole thing, so i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Max is buzzing with life, quite literally, you can feel him practically buzzing the whole time he’s trying to take you back to your hotel room as fast as possible. It’s most likely due to the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed after the race. Honestly it is pure luck that you found your way back to your room, given your current state, but instead of joining you when you jump on the bed, revelling in its comfort, he chooses to stand at the end of the bed as he watches you with an entertained smile on his face.  

“What?” you ask, a laugh washing through you as you raise yourself on your elbows, “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

He lets his eyes wander over your figure, his smile becoming more boyish as he lets it widen on his face, “You look pretty,” he murmurs, bending down so he can lower himself over your body better, “have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?” 

“Um, yeah, Maxie,” you giggle as you point out, “you’ve been telling me that the entire night.” Using your hands as support while raising yourself more so that you could be face to face with him, “I think you look pretty too, you know?” 

“Yeah?” Max murmurs, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, his thumb quick to caress the apple of your cheek, which causes you to lean into his touch. “What if I wanted to kiss you, would that be okay?” 

The smile you offer him in return is sweet, the way your eyes seem to shine at the offer of feeling his lips against yours makes his heart beat faster in his chest. “Yes, please.” Your voice is softer, almost comes out as a whisper due to you suddenly feeling out of breath.  

And who is he to deprive his girl? 

He doesn’t waste any time pressing his lips against your awaiting ones, in fact, the movement of his lips are rushed, if not almost desperate. It's as if he can't get enough, as if he's afraid this moment might slip away like sand through his fingers. The taste of alcohol lingers on both your lips, and normally you would be weirded out about it, but you realise it only adds to the intensity of the kiss you’re sharing with Max. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and you find yourself responding eagerly. You let him take control, mostly because it’s so easy for you to lose yourself in his kiss. He’s lost in it too, if you had to guess, because the way his tongue is fighting over yours for dominance is so different compared to the way Max usually kisses you. You whine at the loss of his lips when he reluctantly pulls away, and if he wasn’t already hard, the sound makes Max’s cock instantly harder. His head is thrown back, eyes closed as he lets out a groan, and he has to stop himself from pulling you in for another kiss. But you clearly have other plans as you drag your lips down towards his jawline, leaving kisses in a random pattern until you reach that one specific point on his neck that absolutely drives him crazy.  

And you know it’s only a matter of time until he stops you, again, as he has done for the past whatever months of your relationship. It’s not that you are not attracted to each other, because the attraction is as clear as day, and you have done stuff – not sex, but stuff. You’re not sure Max does that, but you also don’t want to be the one who pressures him into having sex with you if he doesn’t want to. Unbeknownst to you, the same goes for Max, who thinks you’re not ready to have sex with him and wants your first time together to be as special as possible.  

So no, you’re not surprised as he gently peals himself from you, causing you to whine again at the loss of him, but instead he gives you a small kiss on the forehead as he mumbles, “Why don’t you take a shower? We’ll go to bed after that.”  

“Is that your way of telling me I smell?” You ask in a playful tone, and he responds to you with a roll of his eyes. “What if I don’t want to go to sleep?”  

“No?” He asks, actively searching your expression for any sign of discomfort or reluctance. “We’ve had a long day, are you sure you don’t want to get some sleep?” The look you give him in return for his question is enough, and he knows this, but he also wants to actually hear the words, so he points, “Use your words, liefje.” 

A puff of breath leaves your lips in annoyance, but, nonetheless, you give him the best puppy dog eyes you can muster as you whine, “Please Maxie, you know what I want.”  

“Do I?” He muses, pulling you onto his lap as he ghosts his lips across your jaw. “I don’t know what you mean.”  

“Maxie,” you drag out his name, whining as your attempt at rolling your hips against his thighs don’t work. “You are being mean.”  

“Oh, baby,” he mockingly copies your pout, “I’m sorry. Can I apologise with a kiss?” To make his point, he presses a couple of soft kisses along your jawline.  

“Will you kiss me the way I like?” You ask, slightly out of breath, but his agreement that comes in the form of a hum makes you smile mischievously. His lips trail more kisses towards the neckline of your dress, and eventually through the valley between your breasts that is exposed by the lack of fabric. And you have every intention to let him have his way with you, you really do – after all, he won another great race. But a part of you also knows that making him suffer, even if just a little bit, in the process is so much more fun. So, just as he’s about to free of your breasts from the bustier of your dress, you quickly move away, slipping from his hands, trying your hardest not to laugh at the bewildered expression on his face. “On second thought, I think I’m going to take that shower after all.”  

“I—what?” Max mumbles, his slightly swollen lips pulled in a pout, and you can’t help but give him a small kiss.  

“I’ll see you after my shower, Max Emilian.” Sauntering over to the bathroom, you make sure to add an extra sway to your hips – and the sigh that Max leaves cause the smirk on your face to grow. 

It’s pure torture for Max to wait until you come out of the shower. Not that he doesn’t think about just joining you, especially after the show you just put on, but that would be giving into what you want – and though Max is a generous lover, he is also stubborn. He is more than happy to give you what you want, as long as it is on his terms. And so, he waits patiently, until you come out of the bathroom, a robe draped over your body, and he can’t help himself but let his eyes roam over your body.  

“How was your shower?” Max asks, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, a wolfish grin curving up on his lips. He rests his hands behind his head, relaxing onto the pillows behind him. He watches you give him a shrug, the soft-looking material sliding of your shoulder slightly as you collect your hair onto your shoulder. “Are you giving me the silent treatment, pretty girl?” 

There’s a coy smile on your face as you shake your head, once, twice, as your teeth press down on your bottom lip. Max wants nothing more than to release your lip, pull you into his lap and have his way with you, but no. No, because Max is nothing if not disciplined. “Come here,” he asks, straightening up in his place. You, being the ever-loving girlfriend you are, oblige his request. “That is a nice robe,” he murmurs, tilting his head as he grabs the towelette belt with the tips of his finger, “is it as soft as it looks?” 

“Mhm-hm,” you nod, “do you want to feel it?” 

“Do I want to feel it?” Max muses, “Sure.” His arms wrap around your middle so quickly that you don’t realise he’s pulling you into his lap at first. But he positions you with your legs on the either side of his. “You’re right, liefje, it is very soft.” His hands roam on your body over the soft material, but soon enough, his hands dipping underneath it to feel your skin. His eyebrows shoot upwards, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, “No underwear?” 

“Well, I just came out of the shower, Maxie.” You give him an innocent look, shrugging once against as you rest your hands against his shirt-clad chest. “The shower pressure was great, you should’ve joined me.”  

He lets out a noncommittal hum, his hands roaming on your bare skin, revelling in the softness. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He’s methodical as he slightly shifts you in his lap, tearing a gasp from the back of your throat. That gets a satisfied smile from him, “Something wrong?” 

“N-no,” you mumble, shifting again to get the same feeling, but his hands still you in your place. “Maxie,” you whine, silently pleading with your eyes.  

“Am I being mean again?” He asks, attentive eyes fixed on you, “I would offer to make it up to you with a kiss, but you seem to find ways to evade me when I do.”  

“No,” you whine again, lips pouted in disagreement. “I promise I won’t this time.”  

His eyebrows shoot up again with amusement, “Oh, yeah? Shall we test that theory, pretty girl?” The smile you give him is shy, but the way you nod is nothing short of coy. With a satisfied sound leaving his lips, he quickly presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, immediately, when you feel him deepening the kiss, more than happy to surrender yourself to him and let Max take the lead. Though, that doesn’t necessarily stop you from attempting to relieve the pressure between your legs by rolling your hips against his thighs. Your efforts, however, prove to be useless as he stops the movement before you can actually relieve any of it. He slowly pulls away, pushes a stray piece of wet hair behind your ear and tuts – condescendingly, you might add – “Slow down, liefje, I think I’ve had enough speed for one day.”  

Groaning at his words, “But Maxie,” you whine, dragging out his name as you let your hands wander on his chest over his shirt and receive a warning look from him in return, “I promise I’ll be good, please just fuck me.”  

“Baby,” he coos, his fingers working quickly to unfasten the belt of your robe and push the offending clothing off your shoulders, “I literally just told you to be patient, no?” 

You ignore the raised eyebrow, the look of faux-disappointment, and even the way his fingers grab your waist because you’re too busy trying to get him out of his shirt, suddenly feeling too exposed as you sit on his lap naked. “Please,” you whisper against his skin, peppering kisses across the column of his throat as your hands make their way inside his shirt, “I’ll be patient next time.”  

“I’m suddenly realising that I spoil you very much,” Max mumbles, pulling his head back to get a look at you.  

Pulling back as well you give him a mischievous grin, “Maybe, but you’ll give me what I want this time as well.”  

“Yeah?” He asks, “Why?” 

“Because I think I’m getting your pants very messy right now.”  

Max can’t help the groan that escapes past his lips, his eyes quickly following yours as he takes in the ‘damage’ your wetness has caused on his jeans. He takes a moment to assess the damage, drags his eyes up to look at you when he notices the way your eyes stay fixed down, as your nervously bite down on your lower lip. He loses all the composure he managed to muster up, and he finally gives in, quickly pushing you off him onto the pillows on the bed. The squeal that leaves you is followed by a string of giggles that leave your lips, and when Max looks at you, he takes in the darker look in your widened eyes.  

“I was going to be patient; I can’t believe you’re making me not be patient.” He mumbles, taking off his shirt and the rest of his clothes before starting to leave kisses on your feverish skin as he slides down your body and places himself between your thighs.  

You open your legs wider to accommodate his body, a breathy laugh escaping past your lips. “You mean, impatient?” 

That earns you a nip on your upper thigh and a warning look, but instead of commenting on your quip, he lowers his face, keeps his eyes locked to yours and gets to work. And it’s not that you and Max haven’t done stuff – because it’s the opposite; although you haven’t had sex, it’s safe to say that the two you have explored every option bordering on sex. But how he’s acting right now is much different than the way how he is usually with you. His movements are almost rushed, and the way he drags his tongue through your folds is just enough for your eyes to roll back as your moans fill the room.  

Normally, he would be extra careful and make sure he is being gentle with you; but right now, he’s just trying to savour you before he loses all his composure. A choppy gasp leaves you as you feel his fingers enter you – two at first, and the way he pumps them in and out of you makes breathing harder. The speed of his fingers matches his tongue, and for a moment, you think you’re going to pass out. With his free hand, he blocks any type of movement you try with your hips; his palm sneakily presses down on your lower stomach to keep you in your place, but it’s jokes on him because if anything, it just makes you feel even better, and you’re not shy to let him know just how much he’s making you feel good with your moans.  

“Max,” you say his name in a breathy whimper, fingers threading through his hair to guide him, “fuck, I’m so close.” You can practically feel the way his lips curl up, and suddenly, everything about his actions gets faster. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you in an unforgiving pace, in sync with his tongue that works your clit just the same. So, it’s no surprise when you find yourself coming on his tongue as his name leaves your lips for the umpteenth time like a prayer.

The smirk he gives you when he pulls himself from between your legs is sinful – he looks absolutely debauched with the way his lips glisten with your release, and he wastes no time before coming up, and capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss. But this time, you taste yourself on his tongue and this time it makes you lose the whatever little resolve you’ve had left. So, you hook your leg around his thigh to push him next to you on the bed as you practically throw him next to you on the bed.  

Though he has other plans.   Of course.  

So, as you’re trying to fight the seventy-kilogram-something driver into staying under you on the bed, he has no problem manhandling you into rolling on your side. And as you’re pressed flush against his chest, you turn your head backwards to breathlessly whisper, “You promised, Max.”  

“And I am a man of my word, aren’t I?” He retorts, his hand that is splayed on your thigh positions it so that it’s bent towards your stomach, “Just needed to get you ready.” You can’t help the guttural moan that escapes you when you feel him pressing the tip of his cock into your entrance. The pleading look you give him must’ve worked, because this time it’s his turn to let out a guttural moan as he pushes himself into you. There is no sign of his mood from mere moments ago as you feel his hands caress your bare hip, an entitled smirk on his lips as he asks, “Out of breath?” 

“Fuck you,” your response comes out as a breathy laugh as you’re pushing your hips closer to his to take him deeper.  

“Lifje, you are fucking me.” Max giggles into the crook of your neck as he pushes himself in fully. You would be furious with him if it didn’t make you laugh also, and although the laughing decrease, the smiles remain on both your faces as he starts slowly moving his hips. 

It’s sweet, unbelievably sweet, considering the sexual tension that was in the room an hour ago, but the way Max is fucking you can only be described as sweet. His hands caress every part of your body that he can reach – your thighs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest and then wraps one of his hands around your throat; not in a way that is rough, but in a way that he can still keep you still as he captures your lips for another kiss. The movement of his hips is languid, almost lazy as drive into you, but he still manages to hit all the spots along the way. Breathy chuckles are exchanged when he pulls away for you to organise your breathing, but your smiles still stay on, even when he raises your bent leg and rests his on his own leg. The new angle makes your moans get louder, your hips to move against his faster, and you can feel your orgasm approach speedily.  

But Max is so in tune with your body that he knows what’s coming (or rather who) before you get a chance to actually have to say anything. His hand slides down your body so that he can press his fingers to your clit and move them in tight circles, and as if it was possible, his you can suddenly feel him fucking you even deeper. “You are going to come for me pretty girl, I can feel it.” He murmurs into your skin, and all you can offer as an answer is a nod and an affirmative whimper as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, give it to me, come on my cock.” And though he is not the most verbal person to ever exist, except for when he’s in the mood to be an absolute yapper, his words urge you to let go of the feeling that has been starting to brew in your stomach.  

Your hips start moving to meet his in choppy movements as you seek any and all kinds of pleasure to reach your high, and he meets your every move with increasing intensity of his own. “Max, yes!” Your exclamation hits his ears as he hits that one particular spot, making you instantly become lax in his arms as he guides you through your orgasm. His name spills out from your lips in constant repetition, “So good, so good,” you keep mumbling in breathless whimpers, trying to press yourself further into his body.  

With all things considered, it doesn’t take Max long to reach his own high following your own, since you insistently move your hips in a way that makes you take his cock even deeper when he’s helping you ride your orgasm. So, when you hear him groaning your name in the crook of your neck and feel him spilling himself into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he croaks out, holding your hips in place with his hands splayed on your feverish skin. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” 

“How am I supposed to know, dummy?” You ask, throwing your head back to get a good look of his dishevelled state, “Why do you look so good after mind blowing sex?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, pulling you with him as he lets himself fall back on the bed, “genetics?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to find a comfortable position on his chest as he is still inside you, “remind me to send your mother a flower arrangement when we get back, or something.” 

A deep blush covers his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been fucking you for the past hour or so, as he stammers, “I– I mean, yeah.” This time, it’s your turn to give a non-committal hum, followed by a satisfied sigh as you snuggle him closer and close your eyes. “Just go to sleep, baby, we can deal with it in the morning.” 

“’Mkay,” you mumble, feeling his hand draw soothing circles on your back. “But you’re still gonna fuck me tomorrow, right?” 

This gets another loud laugh from the driver laying down under you, and both of you know that he’s going to do just that when you wake up in the morning. 

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)

You were tired, very tired.

Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.

Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.

With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.

Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?

What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.

All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.

Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.

Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.

“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.

What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?

And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.

With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.

Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.

“Is there something on my face, birdy?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.

Oh.

It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...

"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?

As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”

"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.

"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."

Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.

"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.

"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.

"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.

Which it did.

Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.

“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.

“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.

“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!

One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.

He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?

“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.

"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.

"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.

Or so you thought?

Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.

Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.

"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.

Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.

You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.

You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?

Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.

[...]

While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.

"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.

"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?

"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?

His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.

"It's none of your business so stay out of it."

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.

"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.

Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.

He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.

Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.

"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.

"Sorry, were you busy with him?"

You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.

Directions? Did she really...?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.

The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...

Part Two: II

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not two in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Title: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Synopsis: The inhuman thing that calls itself Light Yagami won't leave you alone.

For Horrorfest request: Reader thats haunted by Shinigami Light Yagami please!

Word count: 800ish

Notes: yandere, stalking

“Leave me alone.” 

The words come out bitter and soft, like a piece of fruit that’s been sitting at the bottom of the fridge for far too long. They smush inwards like overripe flesh underneath your thumb, from the weight of the creature hovering in front of you, the inhuman thing that refuses to go away for good.

Sometimes he leaves for a few days, a week, even a month or two. Long enough that you think he’s finally gotten bored or died–can Shinigami even die?--and you’ll never see him darken your doorway (literally and otherwise) again.

But then he’s there, an unwanted flicker. Standing by your bed. Sitting on your professor’s desk, a prim smile on his face. Waiting behind a shelf at the grocery store, in the gap between open boxes of cereal. Intruding on your everyday life with his awful extraordinariness. 

“Aren’t you even the smallest bit grateful?” He asks, not for the first time, shifting towards you. He’s too close. When he speaks, his breath hovers, smelling of apples and rot. 

You press further away, tucking yourself into the corner between your bed and the wall. The edge of your nightstand digs into the flesh of your upper arm. 

“I don’t want you to follow me,” you say, pathetically, stupidly, because you know it will change nothing. It hasn’t before. It won’t know. “Find someone who will be grateful, if it matters that much to you.”

That’s your dream, really. That he will find someone else to follow, to obsess over, to whisper awful things to in the night; dreams of a reinvisioned world, remaking the world of mortals in an image that suits him. You’ll be there, too. Forever, he says, even if he hasn’t figured out how just yet. 

But no matter how much you plead, how much you try to make yourself unappealing, this thing–it calls itself Light Yagami, and isn’t that awful, to give itself a human name?--won’t leave you alone. 

A clawed hand reaches out and you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s easier not to see him when he touches you. That much you’ve learned. Because when he does, the look on his face gets too tight, too manic. His eyes go a touch red and there’s something inside them that is too awful to bear.

The claw drags down your cheek, resting underneath your chin and tilting it up like a lover would. It makes you sick, this gesture; it’s too practiced, too human. How did a Shinigami know what might make someone go weak at the knees?

And you do–you do–for all the wrong reasons. 

“You can learn to be grateful,” he whispers, voice going low, almost gray. “I’ll even teach you how to use my notebook properly.”

Oh, that fucking notebook. It’s what started this whole mess. It was just sitting there, on the park bench. You’d walked by that bench a million times and nothing was ever out of place, but the one day there’s something new–it’s something that’s condemned you to this.

To him.

All you’d done is pick it up. Touched the edge of it, wondering if some kid has left it behind. But instead of a name written on the front, there was only an odd title. 

“Death… note?” You’d read–and by the time you glanced back up, he was there, suddenly, in a blink.

Smiling politely and introducing himself, as if he wasn’t some creature that had popped up out of nowhere. Came from nowhere a more accurate statement, if his brief descriptions of his world were anything to go by–a vast gray rotting wasteland.

“You wouldn’t like it there,” he told you once, musing more to himself, you thought, than actually speaking to you. He liked to hear himself talk. “That’s why I’ll remake this world instead.” As if he did anything for your benefit, and not his. 

If only you’d passed on by the bench, by the notebook, that day.  You might be free from all this. 

But you’re not free. You’re here, in your bedroom, trapped between the wall and a god of death.

“Open your eyes,” he says, just tightly enough that you know he’s approaching the edge of his patience. It was much harder to be around him, when he was genuinely angry with you.

Weary, tired, your eyes open, slow and sluggish. You give in, like you always do. What other choice do you have? 

“There you are,” he says, claw tracing your cheek, just underneath your eye. “Much better.” 

His other hand reaches for yours, covering it with his own, gripping tight.

“Are you ready to write a name in my notebook now?”

[pit-and-the-pen]

Greedy Little Thing

Requested:

Hii just saw your blog for the first time and I'm in love😭😭. Also saw your asks are open and I strongly believe that the needy Az fic deserves a part two with needyyyy reader (begging) please please pleaseeee. We know Az will be brilliant at thissss.

This was so much fun to write. This is really just pure filth.

Technically a part 2 to this request but it’s not required!

Warnings: so much teasing, oral (f receiving), edging/ orgasm denial, some implied cum eating, creampie, p in v sex (18+), dirty talk, praise, Azriel being a little shit.

WC:3.1K

You very rarely got to see your mate dressed up. So used to seeing him in his training leathers that seeing him in anything else had you practically drooling. But seeing him in dress clothes was enough to bring you to your knees, black button down rolled up to his elbows, black dress pants that showed off his glorious thighs and ass. Your mate was hot, more than hot, he was built like a god. 

“Did you need something, doll?” He spoke. You realized you had come into the room for something. You were going to tell him something but all thoughts eddied out of your brain the moment you saw him. 

“You.” The world tumbled out of your mouth without you thinking. He chuckled lightly as he noticed your stare. And just to tease you, he flexed his arms making the veins pop ever so slightly. You imagined running your tongue over them and heat pooled deep in your belly. 

“It seems you’ve forgotten that we have plans tonight.” He was suddenly right in front of you. His finger hooking under your chin to make you look up at him. 

“We do?” Your voice was breathless, needy and whiny as you tried to recall where exactly you had to be that would keep you from climbing Azriel like a tree. 

“Cassian’s birthday party?” He asked more than spoke. Shit. That was what you had come here for. You needed to know where the wrapping paper went. The fancy thick ones that even Cassian had trouble tearing into. 

“What time does it start?” You broke your eyes away from him to peer at the clock on your nightstand. It was just a little past 5.

“Six. And you still need to get dressed.” You felt a pout rise on your face and Azriel’s thumb popped your bottom lip. He leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. Well it was supposed  to be chaste but you got your arms around his neck before he could pull away. Teeth instantly sink into his bottom lip. He groaned and trailed his hands over your waist. He used his grip to pull you away from him, stepping back until your arms were fully extended around his shoulders. 

“Keep that up, princess, and we won’t go at all.”

‘Is that a bad thing?” 

“Nesta will come get us herself with how much planning she’s done.” You sighed heavily as he stepped out of your hold, your body instantly missing his warmth. 

“Go get ready and I’ll finish wrapping his present. Since that’s what you came in here looking for.” The bastard knew the whole time but had wanted to rile you up. Fine. Two can play that game. You spun on your heel and stomped over to the closet.

The dress you picked was one you had just gotten. Intricately cut patterns of fabric that covered just enough to be decent. It wasn’t your usual color, opting to not get it in your favorite sapphire blue but instead a red so dark it was almost purple. It matched your skin tone so wonderfully and brought out the color of your eyes. You left your hair down, letting it flow naturally over your shoulder, covering the exposed skin the dress left. Grabbing the matching heels, you slipped out of the closet and headed to grab the set of bracelets Azriel had recently gotten you. 

You struggled to clasp them, holding the delicate chain as it continued to slip out of your grasp. You gave a frustrated noise after the third attempt and went to go find your mate to help you. 

“Az.” You called into the house. Not knowing where he was. 

“In here.” He answered from his study. The door was opened so you walked in, still holding the bracelet to your wrist. You held it out for him, not even looking up. 

“I need your help.” You finally looked at him when you didn’t get a response and felt the surge of lust down the bond. His eyes hungirly roved over your figure. The tight dress clinging to the plush of your breast, your stomach and thighs. He licked his lips as he walked over to you. Azriel took your outstretched wrist with a careful hand and managed to clasp the silver bracelet. 

He placed a soft kiss to your pulse point before pulling you against him. A soft grunt leaving you as you crashed against his chest. His free hand rested on the skin of your back, left open with the low cut of the dress. 

“I know what you’re doing, sweetheart.” He said against the shell of your ear. You fought back a shiver as his breath tickled your neck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked me to get ready.” Your words would have been convincing if it wasn’t for the smell of your arousal in the air. Azriel peeled his hand away from you to catch a glimpse of the watch on his wrist. 

“Ten minutes.” Was all he said before he knelt down in front of you. Your hands followed him down, clutching onto him and settling on his shoulders. He was quick to sling your leg over his shoulder. Opening you up to him. He ran the tip of his nose along the center of your underwear, drinking in your scent. 

“You’re drenched for me, sweetheart.” 

“Az-” You mewled as he reached up to tug your panties to the side. Your hands slid into his hair as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit. Teasing the bundle of nerves with feather-light strokes. Your nails dug into his scalp, focusing on the hints of pleasure he was giving you. A breathy “please” leaving your mouth was all it took for him to unleash himself. His pace was merciless, the sounds of his lips on your mingling perfectly with your loud cries. Your legs wobbled slightly and he wrapped an arm around you. Giving you leverage to ride his face, your hips bucking in time with his tongue. 

He had you rapidly approaching your peak. Broken version of his name falling over your lips. 

“Az I’m gonna-” And right as you felt that clench deep in your stomach, he was pulling away. 

A loud cry of outrage left you as you stared down at him. Chest heaving as he placed your foot back down on the ground and stood up to his full height again. He smoothed your dress back into place on your hips, squeezing lightly as he did. 

You felt hot all over, pulse thrumming across your skin. Words failed you as Azriel licked his lips, cleaning your glistening arousal off of his face. 

“I-I was so close.” You whined, closing your eyes as if trying to will the feeling to come back. 

“And maybe now you’ll listen to me when I tell you to wait and not try to tease me like a brat.” He tapped your cheek, a silent request for you to open your eyes. “Now you can be frustrated all night while I decide if I’m going to let you cum.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. “Please. I’ll be good. Please let me cum.” 

He placed a small kiss on your forehead before looking at his watch again. He picked up the present and held an arm out for you. You didn’t hesitate, although a little pouty, to grab it as he winnowed you to the venue Nesta had picked out. 

The girls had spared no expense, and it was obvious as you looked around. Cassian normally wasn’t one for big parties but the century birthdays were always a big deal. Nesta had turned the club into an almost intimate setting but the music thumping through the sound system had your pulse skyrocketing again. You felt it everywhere, still so worked up with not being able to cum. Azriel rubbed small circles into your back, encouraging you to relax. 

“I’ll get us drinks.” He said as he placed another kiss to the top of your head. 

The club was still open to the public tonight, Nesta had just reserved the top floor for Cassian’s party. He would still want to dance with Nesta and she was fully aware of that. You looked around the room for the rest of your friends and quickly spotted them. Cassian's wings sticking out among the crowd. He already had Nesta pulled tight against him. You caught her eye and she pulled away from him with a cat-like smile before she focused on you. You extended the present out to her and she took it to add to the growing pile on one of the tables. 

“You made it.” She gave you a smirk that let you know you must not have been as composed as you thought you were. “I’m surprised with you wearing…that.” She covered her laugh as you rolled your eyes. 

“Azriel was very insistent on being here on time.” As you looked for your other friends you felt your anger rising. No one else had shown up yet, you and Az being the first other couple here. Frustration overrode the lust still buzzing below your skin until you felt Azriel join your side. 

He handed you your drink, suddenly very grateful for the cool glass against your hand. 

“How did you convince them to let you decorate?” Azriel asked Nesta who merely shrugged in response. 

“I’m persuasive.” She responded and you felt the urge to laugh at the image of her storming into the club managers office and demanding them to let her essentially redo half of the club. You took a deep sip of your drink as the rest of your family slowly started to arrive. Feyre and Rhys first, with a small mountain of gifts. Mor, Emerie and Gwen arrive next. Elain and Lucien after, and even Amren. 

Eventually rounds of shots were poured as everyone started to get started for the night. Cassian was glowing with happiness as he danced with Nesta, then Feyre and eventually you. He spun you in a large circle as you tipped your head back laughing. He had gotten better at dancing since being with Nesta, a fact she was very proud of. He had two left feet and no rhythm before he met her. 

The song faded into the next and you excused yourself from the dance floor to get another drink. Azriel was right behind you, hands seeming to gravitate towards your waist and back. He had left teasing touches all over skin the entire night and it was enough to have your thighs clenching together as your mind drifted to the unfinished events in his office. 

“You seem tense, sweetheart.” His hands going to rest on your shoulders, fingers rubbing at the tight muscles around your neck. You leaned into his touch, biting back a moan at the feeling of him touching you so intimately. He chuckled as he pulled away, a deep frown on your face. He was still riling you up, hours after and it was working perfectly. Your thighs were sticking with your arousal. 

“Az, please.” You plead, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For him to stop, for him to pull you into the bathroom of the club and finally finish what he started. 

“Behave.” Was all he said as he pulled you to the center of the dance floor, you drink still waiting on the bar top. 

He pulled you tight against him as the song shifted to something slower, something more sensual. His hips dug into yours perfectly, meeting you beat for beat. Your hands were digging into the front of his shirt, clutching onto the fabric to stop yourself from melting into a pool at his feet. His hands ghosting along your waist, over your sides, brushing every inch of exposed skin had you panting against him. You pulled him down to meet your lips, a sigh escaping both of you as you did. His hands went to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His tongue parted your lips and he licked into your mouth. Demanding every bit of your attention. 

You didn’t realize he had backed you into a corner until you felt the wall behind you. It gave you leverage to grind your hips against him. A small part of you was satisfied as you felt his rock hard length through his pants. He pulled away from the kiss, eyes dark and pupils blown. He was matching your breathing, chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath. 

You reached your hand down before he caught your wrist and pulled you away from his waistband. 

“I told you to behave.” He growled in your ear. The sound was so perfect it made you want to cry out in frustration. You felt it everywhere. Your toes curl in your heels as you whine. 

“Az. You proved your point. I’ll listen.” Your voice is high pitched. 

“Look at you, so needy for me. I bet you would let me fuck you right here?” Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought. He laughed darkly at your response. “You would, wouldn’t you. My little slut, so needy for my cock she’d let me fuck her in a room full of strangers.” He bit the junction between your neck and shoulders had a loud moan falling from your lips. 

“Az-” He silenced you with a kiss. Hips driving into yours, pinning you against the wall. You wrapped a leg around his waist, exposing your dripping core to him. He growled low in his chest and you felt the world moving around you. 

Next thing you felt was the plush of your large bed underneath you. 

“You want me that badly, princess?” He was already unbuttoning his shirt, his toned chest slowly becoming visible. You nodded, your throat suddenly feeling dry. A small slap to the inside of your thigh had you crying out a yes. 

He leaned over you, arms caging in each side of your head. He eyed you up, a smirk plastered on his face as you panted under him. He reached out and flipped you over so you were in his lap. Straddling his hips, your heels hanging off the edge of the bed. Your hand slipped behind you to take them off but his words stopped you. 

“Keep them on.” Was all he said before he started trailing kisses over your collarbone, down to the space between your breasts. You wanted the dress off, wiggling your hips to tell him as much. Azriel didn’t hesitate. Hands coming up the zipper of the dress and pulling it down excruciatingly slow. He pulled away long enough to slip the scrap of fabric over your head, you arms raising and falling against his chest with a loud smack. He leaned back on his elbows, drinking in your figure. Your skin flushed with need, eyes wide and wild. You leaned down and started placing open mouth kisses on his exposed chest. You went to slide off of his lap before a firm hand stopped you. 

“As much as I would love to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me. I want to be inside of you.” You could have cried with relief at the words. But you should have known there would be a catch. He didn’t waste another second before he was slipping inside of you. Hours worth of teasing making it almost too easy for him to fill you. You sniffled as you sunk down completely. Already drunk off the feeling of him. 

His hands found themselves on either side of your hips, urging you to move at the pace he set. You own arms hooking around his neck as you pull yourself closer to his chest. YOur head rolled back until you were looking at the ceiling, body bouncing with each thrust as you could do nothing but take everything he gave you. 

You felt that coil tightening again in your stomach. Your thighs clenching around his waist, trying to take him deeper. 

“You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart. Look at how pretty you are.” 

You could do nothing but cling to him tighter, your moans mingling with his own groans. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding. The bed shook across the floor as he continued to drive his hips against yours, again and again. Your whole body clenched as you were about to tip over the edge and right as you went to cry out for him. He pulled out, flipping you over so you were suddenly under him. You cried out again. 

“Az. Please.” He kissed your cheek, trying to sooth you as you reached out for him. He waited a few heartbeats before he lined himself back up with your entrance and pushed in. 

“Are you gonna be good?” He asked. You would have said yes to whatever he wanted, anything to let you cum for him. You were nodding, voice horse from the pitch of your moans. 

He grabbed your ankles and pushed your thighs up to meet your shoulders, driving his hips with his whole body. You felt every wonderful inch of him this way, could feel how tight your walls were pulling him in. His skin was dewey as a layer of sweat clung to both of you. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as your legs started to shake. Your body so exhausted already as you tried to lift your hips up to meet him. 

“Cum for me, my sweet, beautiful, girl.” He pressed his nose into your shoulder, biting down right as you hit your high. You shuddered in his arms, which tightened around you. Letting you ride out your high as his hips slowed down, grinding against you. It was only a few more moments before he was growling into your ear. HIs hips stilling as he pumped you full of his release. You stayed wrapped around him, basking in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms you had ever had. Body finally relaxing against him. He pulled out of you slowly, your releases spilling out and running down your thigh. Azriel’s eyes went right to the mess between your legs and you saw that glint of hunger that told you the night was only beginning. 

He started to trail kisses down your stomach until he laid flat against the bed. 

“I think I owe you more than one, princess.” And brought his lips to your folds for the second time tonight.

[reminiscingtonight]

Takedown

Georgia Stanway x Earps!Reader

Word count: 784

A/N: inspired by that video ofc

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re hard at work when Alessia slides up next to you.

Usually you do a good job at separating your education and your football career, but a last minute assignment means you’re doing your best to craft a ten page research paper in whatever free time you can scrounge up at camp.

“Did you hear?”

Face buried in your laptop, you don’t even spare her a glance. “Hear about what?”

You’re so focused you almost miss her next words.

“Georgia’s trying to wrestle your sister!”

It’s almost comical how quick your fingers come to a stop.

You look over the screen, noting the half exasperated, half amused face on the striker.

“What do you mean Georgia’s trying to wrestle Mary?”

The last thing you expect is to push through a crowd when Alessia leads you to the gym. The girls are all gathered around, hooting and hollering. And at the center of it all is Mary and Georgia.

The two of them are circling each other, Georgia’s eyes drawn and focused while Mary’s got her signature smirk splattered all over her face.

You don’t even have a minute to register everything or react properly before Georgia’s suddenly charging forward with a short yell. A gasp leaves your lips at the effortless way Mary grabs at Georgia’s hips and flips her over on her back with a light thump.

Though usually stoic and the poster girl for doing everything by the book, Leah’s right there to quickly drop to the ground, exaggeratedly slapping her hand on the ground. “One, two, three! That’s another win for Mearps!”

Mary pops up with a holler, grinning like a maniac as Leah parades her around as the champion.

With a huff you finally push your way through the crowd straight to where your girlfriend is sitting up looking worse to wear.

“Are you crazy?” you hiss, helping her to her feet.

Georgia blushes when she realizes you caught the whole takedown.

“Look, we were just--”

“G, she could’ve killed you!”

Georgia frowns. “I know. But I was being careful. All I was trying to do was pin her down.”

You sigh. You love the whole bro-ship your girlfriend has going on with your sister, but sometimes it’s like you’re mothering two teenage boys with no sense of self-preservation. “Georgia, my sister has a black belt in judo. She’d choke you out before you could ever pin her down.”

“I know.”

She says it with so much conviction you falter for a second, lost for words.

“You... you know?”

Georgia, ever the charmer she is, puffs out her chest at her best attempt to look threatening. “Mary may be a black belt in judo, but I’m a black belt in taking down big headed keepers.”

You can almost sense Mary’s presence behind you before you can even hear her. An ironclad hand clamps down on your shoulder, breath so close to your ear that it tickles.

“I’d like to see you try, shortstack. All you’ve done so far is feed that massive head of mine.”

Georgia gasps in outrage, another sharp retort on her tongue when she catches the glare on your face. She shrinks, meekly scratching at the back of her head instead

Mary snickers, jerking back suddenly when you whip around to focus your glare on her.

“Mary Alexandra, you’re thirty-one. Act like it!”

Though she’s six years your senior, sometimes you feel more like the older one between you two. Especially in times like these when Mary gives you all the reasons to scold her like a misbehaving child.

“And you, Williamson! Don’t think I didn’t see you egging everyone on!”

Leah’s in the middle of trying to slip out with the dispersing crowd when your sharp words stop her in her tracks.

Your captain turns around, giving you a sheepish smile. “Eh, sorry?”

“You’re going to be,” you grumble, thinking of the paper that you’re no doubt losing motivation to write the longer you’re trying to wrangle everyone down.

It’s times like this that you wish you hadn’t accepted Sarina’s call-up to camp. It’s already hard enough to babysit your girlfriend and her friends whenever you meet up for a mini vacation throughout the football season and sometimes after, but having to do it at camp too is a bit exhausting. Usually Keira’s here to help too but--

You narrow your eyes at the three suspiciously angelic faces batting their eyelashes at you.

“Where’s Keira?”

When you slam open your shared hotel room door minutes later, Keira shrieks, nearly knocking over what looks suspiciously like a makeshift wrestling ring in the middle of the room.

Keira blinks, eyes wide. “Uh, this isn’t what it looks like.”

[theostrophywife]

little dove.

pairing: tom riddle x reader.

song inspiration: if u think i'm pretty by artemas.

author's note: can't believe this is my first tom fic, but please know that this man awakens the feral, unhinged side of me. let me slytherin to your chamber of secrets and ride that basilisk tommy 😏

This was a stupid, idiotic, and terrible idea. 

Unfortunately for you, those were the conditions in which Harry and Ron worked best under. In your defense, you tried to talk them out of the prank, but the boys were determined to leave their mark. You suppose you could’ve told Hermione, but you didn’t want to interrupt her date with Draco. When it came to talking sense into their thick skulls, you were completely and utterly alone. 

After much argument, you finally accepted that you weren’t going to get anywhere with Harry and Ron. The only thing you could do was supervise their reckless pursuits and minimize the damage as much as possible. So here you were, sneaking into the dungeons under the cover of darkness. 

“This will be the best seventh year prank yet,” Ron whispered as he trailed close behind. “Fred and George are going to be so jealous.” 

“If we don’t die from the cold first,” Harry quipped sarcastically, slightly shivering underneath the invisibility cloak draped over the three of you. “The Slytherins really take the whole cold-blooded thing quite literally, don’t they?” 

You huffed in response, trying your best to muffle your steps. “Can we please focus on not getting caught? We need to be in and out of the dungeons before the prefects start their patrols.” 

The boys nodded as you inched further into the serpent’s nest. Luckily, the corridor that housed Professor Snape’s office was empty. You held your breath as you began to unravel the wards protecting the entrance. You had to give it to him, Snape was incredibly thorough when it came to his security measures. Good thing you were an expert on unlocking charms. 

With a final flick of your wand, the door gave way and creaked open. Ron and Harry wore matching grins as the three of you spilled into the office. Closing the door behind you, Harry’s green eyes crinkled with mischief. 

“Let’s get started.” 

Surprisingly, Harry and Ron’s half-arsed plan was actually coming together. The three of you worked in silence, the boys handing you paints and supplies at the snap of your fingers. After a few more strokes, you flicked your paintbrush over the wall and cocked your head to examine your work. Nearly every single surface of Professor Snape’s office was covered in your illustrations—technically vandalism according to wizarding law. 

The drawings, imbued with the same magic that powered the moving portraits, depicted caricatures of Professor Snape, all of which scurried like rats along the walls, hurtling globs of paint at one another. The head of Slytherin house was going to have a fit when he saw what you’d done to his office. You almost wished you could be there in the morning to witness the look on Snape’s face when he uncovered your masterpiece.

“Bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he packed up the paints and brushes. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Y/N.” 

Harry chuckled and nudged your shoulder. “See? You do have a taste for trouble, after all.” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me clean up so we can go.” 

As you carefully wiped the office of any trace of the three of you, Harry suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. You looked up, ready to scold him for idling, but fell silent when you saw the panicked expression on his face. 

“What is it?” you asked quietly. 

Harry held up his hand and slowly opened the door, peeking out into the darkness. A muffled clicking that sounded an awful lot like footsteps echoed from the corridor. “Do you hear that?” 

Ron cursed lowly. “The prefects must’ve started their rounds early.” 

You peered over Harry’s shoulder and felt the color drain from your face. “It’s not the prefects,” you said, swallowing thickly. “It’s the Head Boy.” 

Both the boys swore under their breaths. You steeled yourself, knowing that panic was not going to get you anywhere. As quietly as possible, you retrieved Harry’s cloak and beckoned the boys underneath it. 

“We’re so fucked,” Ron mumbled. 

“No, we’re not,” you chided sternly. “Get under the cloak and don’t make a sound.” 

Harry scooted in beside you, clutching the invisible fabric over his shoulders. “Do you have a plan?” 

You nodded. “Run like hell and don’t get caught.” 

“That’s a bloody terrible plan!” said Ron. 

With a glare, you tugged the redhead underneath the cloak. “Then please, let us hear your brilliant idea, Ronald.” Ron stayed quiet, his freckled face etched with fear. “That’s what I thought. Now stay close and for Merlin’s sake, try not to stomp around like a damned erumpent.”

Stupid. 

Idiotic. 

Terrible. 

Every ounce of apprehension you felt earlier that night came rushing back as the three of you cowered in the darkness. It was pitch-black in the corridor, but you didn’t dare cast lumos for fear of getting caught. Thankfully, a small light up ahead provided you with a vague sense of direction. You remembered passing the lit emerald sconce on the way down. All you had to do was get back to the entrance without running into the head boy. 

The glimmer of hope became clearer and clearer as you neared the stairs that would lead you out of the dungeons. You were so close. Barely a few metres away from freedom. 

Just as you thought you were safe, Ron knocked into a table, sending one of the snake sculptures guarding the alcove to the common room tumbling. The marble cracked against the concrete, breaking into a million pieces just like your hope of escaping. 

“Run!” you huffed, urging the boys to go on. 

A solid plan if you hadn’t been nearly blind in the dark. You could hear the shuffling of footsteps beside you. Three sets belonging to you, Harry, and Ron, while an unknown fourth inched closer and closer. Whoever it was wasn’t running, but they were definitely in pursuit. 

You stumbled through the dark, nearly tripping over your own feet. From up ahead, you could hear Harry and Ron urging you on. As you broke into a sprint, paints and brushes came spilling out of your satchel. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve abandoned your art supplies, but leaving them behind would fully incriminate the three of you. In the time it took to pick up the damning evidence, you stopped hearing your friend’s voices. 

It would’ve worried you, but in all honesty, you were relieved. If you could no longer hear the boys, then that meant they made it safely out of the serpent’s nest. A feat in itself given their track record. Those two couldn’t be inconspicuous if they tried. Without the need to worry for them, you were confident that you’d be able to slip out undetected. 

In hindsight, you were perhaps a tad bit overconfident. You were great at sneaking around, but apparently not good enough to slip the head boy’s notice. As soon as you started to creep past the dormitories, you ran into a wall that hadn’t been there before. 

Except it wasn’t a wall. 

It was a strong, firm chest. A chest that belonged to none other than Tom Riddle. 

Leave it to your terrible luck to run straight into the arms of the scariest boy in the castle. 

Determined not to cower, you lifted your chin defiantly and faced Tom head on. “Head Boy,” you greeted in acknowledgment. 

Emerald eyes unflinchingly surveyed you, that intense green stare sweeping from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. Beneath the faint glow of the Black Lake pouring in through the stained glass windows, you could’ve easily mistaken Tom Riddle for an angel. He looked like an illustration straight out of the Sistine Chapel. Beautiful, intricate, perfect. 

Yet utterly terrifying. 

Danger prickled at your skin as Tom’s lips curved into a sinister smirk. “My, my, what do we have here? A little dove out of her cage.” 

You bristled as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his voice a seductive caress. It was low, husky, and a little rough around the edges. Just like its speaker. Tom plucked a paintbrush out of your satchel and examined it between his fingers. “I saw what you did to Snape’s office. Quite artistic, aren’t you?” 

A part of you considered denying it, but it would’ve been a futile attempt. There was paint splattered all over your skirt and flecks of it were already drying on your skin. Tom had quite literally caught you red handed. The only thing you could do was to own up to it and face whatever consequences came as a result of your foolish actions. 

“Are you going to turn me in to the headmaster?” 

Tom shook his head, his brown wavy hair falling over one eye. “Not until I catch your two helpers.” 

Panic seized your body. It may be too late for you, but Tom hadn’t seen either Harry or Ron. There was a chance they could come out of this unscathed. 

“I was alone,” you declared with your chin held high. “There was no one else with me.” 

Anger contorted Tom’s handsome features. Those emerald eyes lit up in flames as he backed you into a wall, bracketing each side of your head with his arms as he leaned down. You tried not to cower under the intensity of his stare, but gods was it hard. Tom towered a good foot over you and as if that weren’t intimidating enough, he also blocked every possibility of escape with his body. 

“Don’t lie to me, little dove,” Tom growled, tilting your chin up with one hand. “I heard three sets of footsteps running through the corridor.” 

You swallowed thickly, praying to Merlin to grant you the ability to flawlessly lie your arse off. “I swear, it was just me. No one else. I did it all by myself.” 

Tom hummed as if unconvinced. “Well, you’re certainly on your own now. Your idiotic friends left you down in the dungeons all alone. Don’t you know that dangerous things lurk in the dark around here, Y/N?” 

“Like I said, I was alone.” 

“So it appears,” Tom said, flashing you a smile that told you he was the most dangerous thing lurking in the dungeons. “Poor little dove wandering the serpent’s nest all on her own. Hasn’t anyone told you that us Slytherins have teeth?” 

“Why?” In an idiotic surge of courage, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could pull them back in. “Do you plan on biting me, Tom?” 

Tom grabbed your jaw roughly, making you whimper in surprise. “Insolent girl. You’ll learn your lesson soon enough.” 

Without warning, he grabbed you by the elbow and started dragging you down the corridor. At first, you were certain that Tom was taking you to Dumbledore’s office, but as the minutes ticked by, you realized that you were going in the opposite direction. If anything, he was leading you right into the heart of the dungeons. 

Tom’s grip tightened to the point of pain as he guided you up a set of twin staircases, practically flying up the steps on the right side, which you assumed led to the dormitories. It had a similar layout to the Gryffindor common room, except instead of leading into the towers, the narrow hallway opened into an intricate maze in the lower levels of the castle. 

Nestled into the underbelly of Hogwarts was a large, dark room that was surrounded by more stained glass walls that looked out into the Black Lake. A school of fish swam by as Tom ushered you through the door, which he promptly locked behind him with a series of complicated spells you had no hope of deciphering. 

You were trapped. Alone in a room. With Tom Riddle.

Upon closer inspection, you surmised that this had to be his private suite. It was twice as large as your dorm back in the towers and extremely private. A luxury that only the Head Boy and Head Girl enjoyed. 

“You’ve been very bad, little dove,” Tom reprimanded. "You deserve to be punished, but I’ll tell you what. Give up the names of your accomplices and I might find it in my heart to go easy on you.” 

His drawling voice echoed in the bedroom as he leaned back against his desk, twirling his wand between his fingers. The look he leveled at you is enough to awaken your fear. Plus another emotion that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. 

Merlin, Tom was sizing you up like he was the lion and you were the helpless deer frolicking through the meadow. You steeled yourself and doubled down on your lies. 

“There was no one else, Tom.” 

He smirked as though you’d given him the answer he’d hoped to hear. Tom stopped twirling his wand, tucking it away in his back pocket as he stalked over to you. “Very well, then. I suppose you’ll just have to endure their punishments too.” 

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. It occurred to you that while you had your wand, you were completely and utterly defenseless against Tom. It should’ve scared you shitless, but instead you felt a strange sort of thrill as he came closer. “What…what sort of punishment?” 

A smirk curved at his lips as he fisted your hair between his fingers and tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “I think you know, babydoll.” 

Heat ignited in your veins as your tongue darted out to sweep across your bottom lip. “This is crazy,” you whispered. “Shouldn’t you be telling Dumbledore? Snape? Someone in charge?” 

“I’m the one in charge,” Tom growled as he shoved you against his bookshelf. Your back hit solid wood, disturbing the neatly organized tomes behind you. “You snuck into my dungeons, under my watch, and defaced my home. I will dole out your punishment as I see fit.” 

“And if I refuse?” You asked, hoping that you emulated the bravery that your house was infamous for.

Tom pressed his body against yours, leaving barely a hairsbreadth between you as he flashed you a feral smile. “It’s laughable that you still think you have a choice.” 

“I could scream bloody murder. Wake the entire castle up and alert everyone that you're holding a fellow student against her will."

“You could,” Tom mused as amusement flickered in his eyes. “But we both know you won’t.” 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“You’d never risk such a scandalous act to go on your record. First vandalizing Professor Snape’s office, then sneaking into the Head Boy’s dorm after curfew? You’re on a downward spiral, aren’t you, little dove?” 

“I didn’t sneak into your dorm. You dragged me in here.” 

“Please,” Tom said with a scoff. “Let’s not pretend that you don’t want to be here. I’ve been watching you, you know. The perfect little Gryffindor good girl. You think you have everyone fooled, but not me.” You groaned as he pinned your hips in place, sliding his thigh between your legs. 

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me in class? Bending over in that tiny little skirt of yours hoping I’ll glance your way? Leaving the buttons to your blouse undone so you can give me a view of that lacy red bra? Biting your lip when you’re thinking dirty thoughts about me in class?” 

You flushed at his spot on assessment. Tom might be right on the mark, but you weren’t about to admit that to him. Not when your pride was on the line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Dirty little liar.” Tom whispered against the shell of your ear. “You know, your mental shields are impressive, but it’s like you can’t help yourself when I’m around. You’re practically broadcasting your filthy fantasies every time we’re in the same room.” 

Fuck. 

This was bad. 

This was really fucking bad.

How many times had you sat in class staring at Tom while thinking the filthiest, dirtiest thoughts about him? Tom bending you over a desk. Tom slipping his fingers under your skirt. Tom making you scream with his head between your thighs.

All this time, he had complete access to those dirty daydreams.

“That’s right, doll. You may be a powerful occlumens, but you’re no match for my legilimency.” He chuckled darkly, caressing your jaw. 

A heavy pressure weighed down the constraints of your defenses as Tom poked around in your mind, teasing and taunting as a lover would. The act of him prodding around in your subconscious was oddly sensual, mixing pain and pleasure together as he waited for you to yield. 

There’s no use hiding now, Tom whispered into your subconscious. I’ve already seen inside your mind, doll. And your thoughts are just as fucking filthy as mine. 

Glimpses of your deepest, darkest fantasies flashed through your mind. The images were a never ending rolodex of filth and smut. Tom fucking you like his perfect little slut. Tom panting above you as he spread your legs. Tom working you with his fingers until you were a sobbing, whimpering mess. 

He was right. You were shameless. 

But so was he. A new image of you on your knees while Tom unbuckled his belt, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as you stared up expectantly took center stage. Since it was from his point of view, you could only assume that he was showing you one of his fantasies. It was oddly satisfying. Tom was basking in the depravity with you, sharing his equally fucked up thoughts. 

“Tom…” you breathed, leaning into his touch as he continued to pin you against the wooden bookshelf. 

“Not Tom,” he grunted gruffly. “You’ll address me properly from now on, little dove.” 

This was so fucked up and yet so hot at the same time. You were so turned on you could hardly speak. “Yes, sir.” 

“That’s better, doll.” Tom declared with a smirk. “Now that I’ve been inside of your head, I plan on being inside you in every other way as well. Starting with that pretty little mouth of yours. On your knees, little dove.” 

A strange sense of deja vu washed over you as you knelt onto the floor. The concrete nipped at your knees, but you welcomed the pain. It kept you centered as your body buzzed with anticipation. You watched as Tom unbuckled his belt, deft fingers slowly sliding his boxers down as he gripped himself with one hand. 

With a smirk, Tom brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, looking down at you with lust blown eyes. “Open wide, babydoll.” 

Tom pumped himself slowly. The sight of his cock made your mouth water, your head spinning and dizzy with desire as you tried to calculate how you were going to take all of him. The tip of his cock glistened with precum as he rubbed over it. Tom was thick, long, and absolutely delicious. You groaned as he rubbed his head over your lips, the salty taste of his arousal resting on your tongue. 

“I won’t ask again,” Tom warned. “Be a good girl and open your mouth. I’ll make you regret it if you don’t.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before he shoved his way in. Your lips parted for him, opening your mouth wider as you accommodated his size. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

You nodded obediently, eyes filling with tears as you took Tom all the way back. He fisted your hair in one hand and rocked against your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. A garbled sound crawled out of your chest, but it was soon silenced with Tom’s impatient thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Tom cursed. “So wet and warm. Such a perfect little throat. What a pity that I’m about to ruin it.” 

Ruin was an understatement. Tom fucked your throat with precise thrusts, angling deeper and deeper and groaning as you gagged on his cock. He was so deep that you could feel him bruising your tonsils. The more he abused your throat, the wetter your pussy got. You were practically soaked as you moaned on his cock, sucking your cheeks in and bobbing your head up and down to take more of him. 

“Such pretty noises,” Tom said, his fingers curling through your hair to the point of pain. He tugged at your scalp, forcing you to meet his eyes as you sucked him off. “If your mouth feels this good around my cock, then I can’t even imagine what your cunt will feel like.” 

You groaned in pleasure, making Tom’s eye roll back from the vibrations. Controlled, compulsive, and perfectly composed Tom Riddle was fading before you, replaced by a man driven only by his base desires. He was an animal lost to lust and so were you. 

Tom squeezed your throat, groaning when he felt himself moving beneath his grip. “Your throat was made to be fucked, doll. You like that, don’t you? You love it when I’m rough.” 

You struggled to nod in acknowledgement, saliva sloppily collecting in the corner of your mouth as you continued to let him use you for his own pleasure. Tom chuckled at your pathetic attempt to respond. “Don’t bother answering, little dove. You won’t be able to speak when I’m done with you anyways.” 

The filth flowing effortlessly from his mouth made you clench your thighs together. Tom threw his head back, those pretty curls tousled and plastered against his sweat soaked skin. A moan tore through his chest as he got closer and closer, fucking into your mouth with reckless abandon. He chased after his orgasm, shuddering as he spurted hot ribbons down your throat. 

“Fuck. You see what you do to me? Swallow, doll. Every single fucking drop.” 

The fantasies that you’ve been harboring for the past few years finally came to fruition, but none of it came close to reality. Tom was a fucking god. A masterpiece coming undone above you. You’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. All the artwork in the world would’ve paled in comparison to witnessing Tom Riddle at his most vulnerable. 

In awe and wonder, you looked up at him with mascara streaked eyes, tears and saliva staining your face. Tom hauled you to your feet and claimed you with his mouth. The taste of him was still on your lips, but Tom didn’t seem to mind as he parted your lips with his tongue. The kiss was neither sweet nor innocent. It was dark and dangerous and there was an edge of possessiveness in the way he demanded your submission. Almost like he was marking his territory. 

Tongues, teeth, and lips met with a clash as Tom carried you over to his desk. His books and journals clattered to the ground as his teeth grazed the column of your throat. The taste of him was intoxicating and you licked, sucked, and nipped at every inch of skin he allowed access to. You gasped into his mouth as Tom parted your legs, not bothering to warn you as he palmed your soaked panties. 

Your core clenched as he slipped a finger inside of your pussy. A squelching sound filled the room as Tom added another digit, pumping you full and fucking you with his middle and pointer fingers as you begged for more. He knew exactly what he was doing. Tom studied you like one of his books, with meticulous precision and alarming intensity, pouring all of his efforts and attention into making your body sing. 

It wasn’t long before that familiar warmth singed your veins, your moans growing louder and more desperate as you clawed at Tom’s back. You were so, so close. You were practically riding his hand as he brought you closer to the precipice. Just when you were about to come, Tom pulled away and denied you the orgasm. 

“Don’t be mistaken, doll. This is still a punishment.” Tom said as you whined from the loss. He silenced your complaints by bending you over his desk. 

“Tom, please—“ You clawed at the wood as he lined up and filled you with one sharp thrust. “Oh my fucking gods.” 

Tom gripped your hips, the slap of his skin against yours echoing in the room as he fucked you from behind. He was relentless, thrusting in and out and arching your back while he railed the absolute life out of you. It wasn’t long before you were getting close again. The sharp angles of his thrusts had him hitting all the right spots, making your knees weak and your pussy sensitive from the roughness of his actions. Sensing that you were close, he rutted into you, letting that tension uncoil before ripping the orgasm away from you once more. You whined, fresh tears soaking your cheeks as you chased after that high. 

“Like I said, this is still a punishment,” Tom taunted, slowing his thrusts to a snail’s pace. “That’s two orgasms I’ve taken from you, which leaves you with two more. Four for every wall you defaced. It should be twelve, given that you had help, but I’m in a forgiving mood. I think I’ll just spank the other eight out of you instead.” 

With your head bowed, you wiped the tears off of your cheeks and braced yourself. You knew that he was telling the truth. To Tom, this was mercy. You should’ve found it sadistic, but you fucking loved it. Maybe you were a masochist. Whatever the case may be, it seemed like the two of you were a match made in heaven. 

“I’ll be good,” you whispered hoarsely. Your throat was still raw and sore from earlier. “I’ll happily take the punishment. I promise I’ll be good, sir.” 

Tom chuckled darkly, relishing in your submission. His hand came down with a hard smack against your right ass cheek, making you jolt from the contact. Before you could recover, he repeated the action on the left. 

“That’s two,” Tom said proudly. “Can you count out the rest, babydoll?” 

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip every time his large hand came down on your ass. His rings bit into the soft flesh of your skin, but it was a delicious sort of pain. One that you could easily become addicted to. 

Three. Tom tugged at your hair. 

Four. Teeth nipped at your shoulder. 

Five. Fingers curled around your throat. 

Six. Hips slammed against you. 

Seven. Lips trailed down your spine.

Eight. Moans echoed in your ears. 

When Tom slipped his fingers down to your clit, your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw fucking heaven. “It’s not a punishment if you’re enjoying yourself so much, little dove. I can feel you creaming my cock. You look so innocent, but you’re just a filthy fucking slut for me, aren’t you?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“So. Fucking. Perfect.” 

Tom emphasized each word with a thrust and worked your clit faster and faster, bringing you to the edge. This time, he didn’t pull back. Tom let the orgasm build until it threatened to wipe you out entirely. White hot heat coursed through your veins as stars exploded behind your eyes. You whimpered through the intensity of the orgasm. After being denied four times, the pleasure ripped through your body so fiercely that you nearly blacked out. 

“Fuck, let me fill you up,” Tom growled. “Take it, doll. I want you dripping with my cum.” 

“Yes, yes, oh gods. Please cum inside of me, sir.” 

Tom released a guttural grunt, gripping your hips in place as he filled you to the brim. Nothing in the world compared to the sensation of Tom filling you with his warm, wet cum. You glanced behind you and found him staring intently as he slipped out of you, stuffing his cum back into your pussy as it dripped down your folds. You bit your lip, utterly aroused by how fucking sexy this man was. 

His gaze met yours, a proud smile curving against his lips as he swept you off your feet and into his arms. “I think I’ll keep you, little dove.” 

[ellecdc]

All's Fair in Love & Chaos

1st instalment ( II - III - IV)

a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.

Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates

poly!DeathStar x fem!reader

The day that every witch, wizard, and wix alike waited their whole life for finally came for Sirius Black; the day that their soulmate’s initials became visible on your wrist.

The mark becomes visible when the last person of your soulmate bond comes of age. For example, much to Lily’s chagrin, the initials J.F.P became visible on her wrist on March 27th, as did the initials L.J.E on James’ wrist.

Much to Sirius’ chagrin, on June 25th, the initials R.A.B became visible on Remus’ wrist, as did the initials R.J.L on Regulus’.

And so it went for the rest of his friends and classmates.

Except for poor Pete, whose wrist adorned the initials of someone who - after much research and triple-checking by all of their friends - clearly didn’t go to Hogwarts.

Sometimes, however, soulmate bonds took place between more than two people, and though it was possible for it to happen among all blood statuses, the odds were higher amongst Pureblood’s.

So when Sirius woke up this morning to a weird burning/itching feeling on his wrist, only to see not one, but two sets of initials, he was feeling pretty chuffed.

That dissolved very quickly, however.

“No…. nononononononono.” He muttered in agony as he saw two people approaching him; one looking almost as horrified as he did and one looking awfully sinister.

“Well, well, well.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he made his way to the Gryffindor table, dragging you over with him - seemingly without your consent – by your arm. “I thought it must have been a mistake when I woke up to find out I had a Son Of a Bitch as a soulmate, but alas; here you are.”

“This can’t be.” Sirius whispered disbelievingly, causing Barty to cackle maniacally.

“Oh, but it is.”

Any words that Sirius had died on his lips at the wheezing of his younger brother.

You, Barty, and Sirius all turned to see Regulus hanging from Remus’ shoulder as he clutched his stomach.

“I…I – oh Salazar, I think I finally believe in gods! All of them! Oh…” He stuttered in between fits of laughter.

Sirius looked between him and his supposed best mate, but Remus only looked at Regulus as if Regulus was his most beautiful when he was laughing at the expense of his brother.

Bastards; the both of them.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” James offered, his face clearly trying to smile though it took on a pained expression in comissery.

“Thank you…” You accepted timidly, eyes darting between the group of people you suddenly found yourself emmersed in.

“Now look what you’ve done, Black.” Barty sneered as if Sirius’ last name was a dirty word. “You’ve worried our poor girl.” He cooed as he pulled you tight into your side, causing you to squeak in surprise.

“I hardly think I’m the one worrying her.” Sirius sneered back.

Barty’s face turned stony. “Just what are you insinuating?”

“Uhm, that you’re certifiably insane?” Sirius responded simply. 

“Oh, come now; Junior’s not that bad.” Remus tried to reason; his boyfriend still hanging limply off his shoulder as he tried (and failed) to repress his laughter. 

“Not that bad?” Sirius screeched incredulously. “Did you not see what he did to Crawley?”

Peter snorted at that. “Mate, you literally did the same thing to Snape.”

“That was you?” Barty asked in surprise, looking Sirius up and down skeptically.

“Sure was.” James answered on his behalf.

“Huh.” Barty chuckled in thought. “That’s where I- never mind that. I only did that because he groped Y/N’s arse.”

Sirius felt his own face turn stony as he turned his attention to you. “Is this true?”

You seemed to pale at the attention. “Well…yes? But-”

“Ha ha. Black’s just as bad as me.” Barty sing-songed from beside you, looking at Sirius with a look of faux innocence.

Sirius heard a thump, and he looked over to see Remus looking behind the bench where Regulus had apparently fallen in his fit of laughter.

“I – I’ve died, yeah? I’m dead? Fuck, I must’ve done something right in my past life to be rewarded with this. Sirius is – is bonded to Barty Crouch Junior.” He howled with laughter, so uncharacteristic of the young, stoic Black. 

“I am not!” Sirius argued petulantly. “I’m bonded to Y/N, Junior just…happens to be there.”

“If you’re only bonded to Y/N, why are my initials decorating your wrist, hm?” Barty asked salaciously, pulling Sirius’ wrist towards him to see the evidence for himself.

“Oh, sod off.” Sirius barked, shoving him aside and offering you an apologetic glance before storming towards the exit.

“Oi! Where are you going, future-Mr-Barty-Crouch-Junior!?” Barty taunted.

“To jump off the astronomy tower!” Sirius called back.

“Ou! We should go watch.” He said, turning to you before following Sirius out. “You should try to do a flip!”

“Oh, Y/N.” Lily cooed after the boys finally disappeared out of the Great Hall. “I’m so sorry.”

You let out a long-suffering sigh as your eyes stayed focused on the place where you last saw your two new soulmates. “If Regulus did something in a past life to be rewarded with this, I must have done something right horrid.”

[koolades-world]

So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?

hi! sure thing!

i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months

posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)

enjoy <3

Mc who spontaneously cleans

Lucifer

he may just have to marry you on the spot

his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort

he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling

Mammon

if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado

however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help

he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3

Levi

I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me

but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work

he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha

Satan

he’s clean when he wants to be

and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways

after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him

Asmo

somehow clean but messy at the same time

he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not

afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3

Beel

definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol

he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case

he appreciates you and everything you do :)

Belphie

if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha

will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up

however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)

Diavolo

despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess

so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean

everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side

Barbatos

you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace

but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help

afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat

Simeon

he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what

it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish

he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over

Luke

both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too

after all, he wants to be just like them!

if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in

Solomon

he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean

if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in

if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!