#but he did something he never usually dreams of; he lied.

[hecatombi]

thinking about how much joseph loves and will CONTINUE to love caesar for as long as he's alive.

it fucks with me how the most iconic and defining part of his design is the bandana that he gets from caesar. that imagery PERSISTS with him, up until a few years ago when araki gave him that ugly ass pilot hat and redesigned him to be utterly unrecognizable. he is always seen with that headband, posing with it or looking somber and deathly serious even though that's not NOT the attitude that part 2 joseph's known for. and honestly? even a large amount of merch for him today, he still has the bandana with him. it sticks with him in the anime openings when it shows flashes of him in pt. 3. it's on his in game models for almost every game he's in.

it's almost poetic, really, just how much caesar's death defines him. no matter where he goes, even across canon media, it will forever stick with him. it's even more tragic when you consider that he did not even keep that bandana long. and yet. it is still one of the most widely associated things to him.

everyone knows where it came from. and still, everyone associates him with that bandana nearly just as much as they do caesar. it's synonymous with his grief that he never really moves on from. it haunts him forever. it's insane how heavily this headband defines him, how iconic it is, when in canon he'd only maybe had it for an hour tops.

it's also just cruel he didn't get to keep even a little tattered piece of it, imo. but, jojo is what it is. and from the moment he put that thing on, it defined his entire self from that moment onwards, becoming far more serious and closed off, distant from his emotions than before.

he will never accept caesar's death. he can't.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream trying not to get caught that they're dating you. 

Mark Lee

Oh this one's hard for both of you. Whenever you're around Mark's face lights up. LIKE. He's just there glancing at you nonstop, and just smiling and giggling randomly. He thinks that he's being slick but he's not, everyone is convinced that he had eye-fucked you the moment you enter the room. Sometimes he's more bold like when you're alone in the kitchen, it'll be a perfect opportunity for him to sneak up on you and hug you while no one's around. 

Huang Renjun

Renjun is much much bolder than Mark. He'll try his best to have physical touch with you subtly. Like when you're greeting the members one by one with a hug, he has to make sure to leave an extra squeeze on you before you two separate. Or when he's passing by you while you're sitting on the sofa, he'll be the type to ruffle your hair. If you two are seated together, he'll hold your hands under the table or places his hands on your thighs. 

Lee Jeno

Jeno is great with hiding his relationship with you because he's an introvert. But it'll pique curiousity when he's always on his phone and is smiling widely, sometimes he even lets out a small chuckle. Whenever he's asked who he's talking to, he'll say that he just found a funny video something like that. And he just never gets caught because he has your contact saved with something you and him only understands or maybe an emoji to be more secretive. 

Lee Haechan

Haechan's eyes never lies, so I feel like he's not subtle about his relationship with you. Like his eyes just never leave yours. He'll glance at you at any opportunity that he can find and it's obvious because he turns his head at your direction!! Sometimes when your eyes meets his, he'll either: look away embarrassed or be bold enough to wink at you. If you hit back by giving him a wink, he'll be left blushing red. (his members are going to ask why is he so red.) 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin feel like he's more secretive now that he has his own place, so you just usually hang around at his place. But whenever he's with his members and he's calling you, he's not subtle that he's dating someone, it's just who he is dating is a secret from them. And that's because he calls you with endearments, "Love, sunshine, baby, my love." whatever call sign as long as it's not your name so that you two wouldn't be caught.

Zhong Chenle

Oh Chenle would be the type to dragging other members into the mess. Especially Dreamies. He'll be the type to ask them to cover up for him whenever you two go out on dates. Or if he did get caught, he'll be brush it off, "What do you mean a girl? That was Jaemin-hyung, why would I be with a girl?" he's the king of lies and excuses and it sounds so convincing because Jaemin will pull up and say, "yeah that was me." 

Park Jisung

This one takes the cake because no one will know that he's dating someone until the dating news will be published online. WDYM JISUNG OUR PRECIOUS YOUNGEST IS DATING YOU ?????? When did this happened !?!?! I feel like dating Jisung is so casual because it's like hanging out with a friend and the members wouldn't find it malicious that you two are close. He probably isn't that talkative and just, "do I really need to tell you guys about my love life?" 

[pinksturniolo]

Genie In A Bottle

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader Blurb

summary: Matt’s been having trouble falling asleep the past few nights. He’s tried everything, from white noise, to melatonin, to chamomile tea. So Nick helps him out by giving him a new sleep aid supplement that’s been getting popular lately. Zzztime. But he fails to mention just how strong the effects can really be…

content warnings: smut, suggestions of drug use, wet dream, fantasy fem character, needy!matt, oral male receiving, male masturbation

9 p.m.

Nick places the purple coated pill in Matt’s hand, as he eyes him suspiciously.

“This is the little thing everyone’s raving about?” He says, looking down at his hand. It’s small, easy enough to swallow, with a Z imprinted on the front of it.

Nick nods, a smile across his face. “Trust me, it works wonders. I was asleep in seconds.”

Matt opens his water bottle in his other hand, but hesitates before taking the pill.

“What’s exactly in this thing anyway?” he questions.

Nick shrugs, sitting back down on his bed and flipping the TV on. “I dunno, some kind of vitamin zinc or some shit that helps you sleep. It’s a supplement Matt, not a drug.”

Whatever, doesn’t hurt to try. Matt thinks and swallows the purple pill.

“Although I did have some crazy dreams last time I took it…” Nick says once the pill has gone down Matt’s throat, absorbing into his blood stream.

“Oh, thanks for that information right after I take the stupid thing.” Matt responds, walking out of his room.

Nick simply rolls his eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

10 p.m.

Matt lies in his bed, the lights off and the room dark except for the glow of his TV.

It’s been an hour since he took the supplement and he doesn’t feel sleepy at all.

What a scam. He thinks, pulling the comforter closer around him. He has no idea as to why he’s been having such trouble falling asleep lately.

He’s almost ready to just give up trying and go bother Nick in his room again when he hears laughter coming from the living room.

It’s a woman’s laugh, light and airy like the sound of bells.

Does Chris have a girl over?

Usually he would let his brothers know if that was the case.

He hears more of her laughter, the sound drawing him out of his bed with curiosity now. He pads over to his door, pressing his ear against it.

“One wish….”

He hears the feminine voice whisper as if it’s directly in his hear. The sound has his heart starting to race in his chest. But there’s no one in the room except him.

He feels an urge to see who it is that’s laughing, the voice he hears unfamiliar but strangely welcoming.

So, he cracks open his door, peering down the hallway. From his bedroom he can see a figure on the large white couch but can’t quite make out who it is.

And he doesn’t see Chris or Nick around. His curiosity is overpowering now as he walks out of his bedroom, closing his door and heading towards the couch.

The closer he gets, he can see it’s definitely a woman. But he has no clue who it is. He’s never met her before.

She sits on the couch, making eye contact with Matt once he’s close enough. She’s attractive and has a certain aura that pulls him in immediately.

“One wish.” She repeats in an alluring tone.

“Uh- excuse me?” Matt responds, utterly confused at this whole situation. “Who are you?”

She smiles and the warmth that radiates from her vibrates through Matt. Usually he would be alarmed at a stranger in his living room, maybe even a little scared.

But he’s drawn in, encapsulated with her presence. There’s something about her he just can’t put a finger on.

She motions for him to sit next to her and he does, his body moving without hesitation.

Once he’s close, she places her lips near his ear, breathing out the words again, “One wish.”

Matt’s heart is now pounding, as she moves down his neck, her lips brushing the skin lightly. A nervous chill erupts through him and he’s frozen in his seat, unable to move.

“Anything you want…” she says again and presses a feather of a kiss to the side of his neck.

Matt squeezes his eyes shut, his cock starting to harden in his sweats. This feels like a dream.

However, he doesn’t even remember falling asleep. It’s still night time, the moon light shining through the living room window.

But he feels the arousal course through his veins from the woman next to him, her energy sensual and her touch on his skin hot and filling him with need.

“Anything I want?” He finds himself saying in response and he feels her smile against his neck. “Anything, Matt.”

She runs her lips down the nape of his neck, her tongue trailing behind. He inhales sharply at the feeling as she then places her hand over the growing bulge in his pants.

“Shit..” he breathes, her hand massaging him with light pressure.

To be fair, Matt hasn’t been touched in a while. Even in the state he’s in now, his need for some help is apparent.

“I know what you want.” The female voice tells him and suddenly she’s kneeled on the floor in front of him, her mysterious gaze peering up.

His jaw is slacked open, a thrill running through him as she pulls his pants down. She drags her fingers through his happy trail, resting at the band of his boxers.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” she asks and he’s nodding, his breath quickening as she pulls his aching cock out of his boxers.

Matt knows he’s in a trance, a state of dreamy bliss and all he can feel right now is that he so desperately needs to be touched, to be taken care of.

He sighs heavily as she wraps her soft lips around his tip, swirling his pre cum around him, her tongue sliding down his shaft. He leans against the couch, his legs spreading out as she takes him into her mouth.

The warm and wet feeling of it has him groaning out loud, his fingers twitching as he has the urge to grab her hair. Her lips rub against the ridges of his veins, her tongue swirling as she bobs her head on him.

She removes her mouth from him with a pop, her hand replacing it as she wraps it around his shaft, pumping up and down. “You can touch me Matt. Go ahead.” she coaxes. Her voice is like velvet, getting his blood pumping with lust.

Matt’s eyes are hooded, his mouth still hung open in disbelief that this is even happening. He wraps his hands into her silky hair, as she takes all of him again, his tip brushing the back of her throat.

This has his hips bucking up, deep moans spilling from his mouth. Her nose brushes his pelvis as he leads her head now, his hand resting atop.

The slurping and slight gagging sounds are filthy and have Matt in absolute pleasure, his thighs tensing as she runs her hands along them.

He’s already close, teetering on the edge of release as he pants relentlessly, tugging on her hair.

She then comes up for air, jerking him with her soft hand again, spitting on the tip. “So big, Matt. You’re such a good boy, why don’t you let it all go.”

Fuck.

He throws his head back, giving into the blissful feeling as she takes him deep into her throat again, so tight and warm.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ he rasps, his body hot and sweaty as he feels his resolve slipping.

Before he knows it, he’s releasing hot spurts of cum in her mouth, whimpering and panting with noises of pleasure.

9 a.m.

Matt’s eyes shoot open, the harsh sunlight making him squint. He’s a little out of breath, beads of sweat on his forehead as he rubs his face, leaning up a little.

He was laying on his stomach and pushes himself up with his arms as he feels a strange sensation below him.

His dick throbs with the aftershocks of an orgasm and it clicks in his head once he feels the sticky mess on his sheets underneath him.

He was rutting his hips against the mattress only moments ago, getting himself off from a wet dream.

He sighs as he stands up from the bed, stripping himself of his now dirty boxers and pulls on a new pair, proceeding to pull the sheets from his bed to go wash them.

He hears a knock on his door, followed by Nick’s voice. “Good morning! I take it the pill worked well for you?”

You have no idea.

taglist <3

(if you would like to be added/taken off pls reply to this post or my masterlist. and if u weren’t mentioned it wouldn’t let me tag you :/ )

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturniololoco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @bambi-slxt @75sturn @mattscoquette @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife

[netherfeildren]

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 

These are the things he asks himself. 

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[sherewrytes]

Just casually thinking of Mafia/Made man Toji. (au)

Mafia/ Made Man Toji

is just a man who ended up inheriting his uncle's spot as the head of Zenin Mafia after trying to stay out the family business

Mafia/ Made man Toji

only really deals with his family's affairs if it's a Lil drug pushing and a money laundering, maybe a hit here and there. After all it's good money and he's trained for it.

Mafia/Made man Toji

always lied about what his family does or their affairs to hide the truth from you.

Mafia/ Made man Toji

met you when he was just 'working' in his uncle's Naobito's mechanic shop and street racing. Well, that's what he told you but that wasn't the only thing he did to make money. He never wanted you involved or knowing the details. He would always brush off your questions with a casual smile saying it was just another long day at the shop.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

didn’t want to be in the family business, but running it became second nature to him. The Zenin name carried weight, and with it came responsibilities—drug deals, money laundering, and keeping everything quiet enough for the authorities to stay out of the way. He handled everything with precision, keeping his emotions locked away when it came to business.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

balanced his nights between mafia meetings and the one thing that truly made him feel free—street racing. The roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of pushing his metallic purple ‘67 Eleanor Mustang to its limits were the only moments he felt alive. He’d tinker in the shop for hours, perfecting every detail of his cars, and you couldn’t help but admire the focus in his eyes when he worked. It was one of the reasons you were drawn to him.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

never fully let the stress show. He’d flick his lighter open, the faint click signaling the start of his usual routine. That first drag from his cigarette or blunt always calmed him down, and you found yourself mesmerized by the way he inhaled, lips curling around the filter, smoke swirling around him like a promise of something forbidden. You tried to resist it, knowing you shouldn't be drawn in by the danger he exuded, but Toji had a gravity about him, pulling you in closer every time.

Mafia/Made man Toji

loved spoiling you with his earnings, you wanted money for school fees paid done, wanted your nails and hair done, paid for. You wanted that new Jacquemus or Diesel bag done. He loved sewing you dressed to th3 nth in your fav brands you wanted.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

would come home to you, covered in bruises, blood on his knuckles. You never asked where it came from, and he never explained. His kisses were always rough after nights like that, like he was trying to forget who he was and what he’d done.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

would come home late, his knuckles bruised, tension rolling off him in waves. You never asked what happened, sensing the weight of his silence. He would hold you tightly, as if grounding himself, the unspoken words heavy in the air between you.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

had a way of compartmentalizing things—mafia business on one side, racing on the other, and you somewhere in the middle. Despite everything, he still encouraged you to follow your passion for architecture and interior design, often telling you how he imagined his future home—sleek, modern, with your touch in every room. He liked to tease you about it, saying, “You’ll design it, right? You’re the only one I trust.”

Mafia/Made Man Toji

was complicated—dark, secretive, and intense, but there was a softness he reserved just for you. Even on his worst days, when his hands were rough and his eyes stormy, he’d sit with you, listening as you talked about your projects, always supporting your dreams even if he couldn't escape his own reality.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

would often return home in the early hours of the morning, smelling like smoke and gasoline. You’d ask where he had been, worry creeping into your voice, but he would just brush it off with that same lazy smile. “Just the usual,” he’d say, running a hand through his hair and leaning in to kiss you, distracting you from the questions piling up in your mind. But deep down, you knew there was more to the story. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the heaviness in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking.

Mafia/Made Man Toji’s

secrets started to take a toll on your relationship. The fights became more frequent—sharp words exchanged over dinner, accusations thrown in frustration. You hated the way he shut you out, keeping you at a distance when all you wanted was to be close to him. “I know something’s wrong, Toji,” you’d argue, your voice trembling with emotion. “Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

Mafia/Made Man Toji

would get quiet then, his jaw clenched, eyes darkening. “You don’t want to know,” he’d say, voice low and final. And that was the end of it. No matter how hard you pushed, he wouldn’t let you in. The walls he had built were too thick, and every time you tried to break through, it only pushed him further away.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

started staying out later, disappearing for days. When he did come back, the secrets he kept weighed heavy between you. You started noticing the way he looked at you—like he was hiding something dangerous.

Mafia/Made Man Toji

made sure you knew the stakes everytime he touched you, his hand slipping beneath your clothes, lips brushing your ear, “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”

Mafia/Made Man Toji

was never gentle with you, he loved fucking you like he hated the ground you walked on while saying the nastiest and most vile things in your ear. He loved tying you up, choking you, biting you, scratching you the works

" Come on love, you keep pushing my buttons and prying where you're not supposed to now open up and let me fuck some sense into that pretty head of yours ""You just love soaking me when we fuck don't you yn. You stay wet me for me always""Don't get quiet on me now Ma, you weren't quiet when you were picking a fight earlier, shout my name just like you was when you was cussin me""Come sit on my face, I'm thirsty for your taste"

Mafia/Made Man Toji

would get quiet when you asked him about his whereabouts and where all this money is coming from. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening. “You don’t want to know,” he’d say, voice low and final. And that was the end of it. No matter how hard you pushed, he wouldn’t let you in. The walls he had built were too thick, and every time you tried to break through, it only pushed him further away.

Mafia/Made Man Toji’s

love for street racing and the mafia world began to consume him after each fight. The more you fought, the more time he spent away from home, losing himself in the adrenaline of the races or the cold efficiency of the family business. His friends—Sukuna, Geto, and Gojo—became his constant companions, his right-hand men in both the underground world and the street racing scene. They saw him spiraling, slipping further into the life he had once tried to avoid.

Mafia/Made man Toji

grew tired of you pushing him and broke it off. He watched you cuss him out, cry and he knew he couldn't stay the arguments were too much and he knew the secrets were getting to you. He dropped 15k on the table and took his stuff and left your shared apartment.

Mafia/Made Man Toji’s

friends knew he wasn’t the same since you left. After the breakup, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He stopped trying to keep the two worlds separate. He stopped caring about the line he had drawn between you and the dark life he was part of. The pain of losing you had pushed him deeper into the mafia's clutches, the responsibilities of running the Zenin family weighing heavily on him. Without you there to keep him grounded, he fell harder into the business—deeper deals, more dangerous nights, and a growing numbness that even his love for racing couldn’t fix.

Mafia/Made Man Toji’s

friends watched in silence as he spiraled, helpless to pull him out of the hole he was digging for himself. Sukuna would often shake his head, trying to get through to him. “You’re not yourself, Toji,” he’d say, watching as Toji barely listened. Geto, like a brother to him, knew better than to push too hard, but even he couldn’t ignore the change. Gojo, with his carefree attitude, would joke about how Toji was living fast, but even he knew there was something broken inside him now.

Mafia/Made Man Toji,

despite everything, couldn’t forget you. Late at night, when the smoke had cleared and the adrenaline had worn off, he’d find himself thinking about you—about the way you used to look at him with so much hope, about the future you’d both dreamed of before everything fell apart. But now, those dreams felt too far away, replaced by the cold reality of the life he was trapped in.

[sprinkler-ashes]

begin again // aaron hotchner x reader

begin again

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which there are five times that aaron hotchner restores your faith in love and one time where you restore his. inspired by begin again by taylor swift.

words: 6.1k

warnings: cursing, a touch of angst, hotch in a quarter zip and casual clothes (yes this requires a warning), fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, reader has an awful ex (gn pronouns for ex), mentions of violence and injuries

a/n: i’ve been working on this all throughout the week every night at like 3 am running on, at best, 4 hours of sleep so i’m very sorry if there are grammar/spelling errors – i will edit soon. also i fear i’ve been watching too much dharma & greg, and this was the product. enjoy!

i've been spending the last eight months

thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

but on a wednesday in a cafe

i watched it begin again

One.

It was week one of your new job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit when you knew with absolute certainty that as soon as you arrived back at the bureau, you were going to hand in your resignation.

You were sitting away from the rest of the team who all sat together, though a little cramped, and deep into discussion about something that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. They were talking normally as if everything they just witnessed over the last few days didn’t affect them.

You knew that you were new to this – it was your first week on the job. But you felt like you should be… happier than the way you currently felt. This was your dream job: one that you’ve spent years working towards. One that you gave everything up for, including your relationship.

However, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t worth it.

The team was very lovely. From the moment the case had begun, each one of them made an effort all throughout the trip to Missouri to make sure you were keeping up and doing okay. They’d even tried to get you to come over and chat with them when the flight started, but you lied and said you were tired.

Your head was leaning against the window, your eyes peering out to see nothing but blue skies and clouds. This was everything you’d ever wanted, so why did you feel the way you did?

A voice in the back of your head told you that your ex was right; you weren’t cut out for this. You were going to fail just like they always said you were going to – this was a mistake.

You couldn’t help but be on the verge of a breakdown with all the thoughts running through your head, but there was no way you could cry due to the presence of someone moving to sit in the seat in front of you. A part of you didn’t want to look up because you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but, reluctantly, you did look up only seconds later.

BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was sitting in front of you with his usual gaze that made you feel slightly intimidated. He seemed to be good at everything he did – or at least everything you had seen him do. He was well-respected, a damn good profiler, and so put-together that it made you feel like a mess in comparison.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, attempting to mask the conflicted feelings in your voice.

He ignored your question. “You just finished your first case. I wanted to see how you were feeling. You and Reid really helped by figuring out the geographical profile.”

You should’ve known he would know. This was a plane full of profilers – they probably all knew.

“I’m good,” you lied with an attempted smile that never reached your eyes. “I’m glad we caught the guy; I’m just really exhausted.”

Aaron didn’t say anything as he obviously did not believe you with his eyes still watching you, presumably reading more about you in mere seconds than you even knew about yourself. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the chatter from the rest of the team filling the air.

“They’ve all been here for years,” he suddenly said. “It still affects them, but it gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you told him, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. You shut your eyes, cutting off eye contact. You didn’t want to look at your boss after you basically just told him you can’t do your own job.

This is so embarrassing, you thought to yourself.

When you finally re-opened your eyes, Aaron was still watching you. He moved forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table between the two of you. He was looking at you with what you almost would’ve called sympathy.

“You can do this,” he reassured you, making sure his voice couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. It’ll get better.”

The sheer honesty in his voice caused unshed tears to form in your eyes. No one had given you the affirmation you so desperately needed in a long time – not even your ex, who often said more unkind things than kind.

“What if it doesn’t?” You asked, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall.

“It will,” he said firmly, emphasizing his words. “Go home, rest, and come back for a new day tomorrow.” With that, he stood back up, straightened out the sleeves of his suit jacket, and looked at you one last time before walking back over to where he was originally sitting. “You did very well this week.”

Aaron said everything with so much sincerity that for the first time in a while, you felt a little bit better.

—

Two.

You didn’t end up quitting.

It had been a little over a month since you almost quit your job after the first week. Things still weren’t perfect, but you had gotten more used to being a profiler and had gotten to the point where going to work didn’t feel like such a chore.

You were now in a small North Dakota town on a case. It was the second week of December, and the heat was out at the inn you were staying at, which all of you had, unfortunately, found out when arriving back from the police department.

“I probably know the answer to this, but is there any way we could go somewhere else?” JJ asked as she stood by the door. “It’s freezing, Hotch.”

“Actually, in order for it to be freezing, it would need to be–”

“Reid, not now,” Derek cut him off.

Aaron looked up from the folder he was reading. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is the only place to stay in town, and it’s the only place that was approved and booked.”

“They said they will probably have it going again in under an hour. Maintenance is working on it now,” Rossi announced as he entered the room, stepping past JJ. “They apologized for the inconvenience.”

It was eleven at night, and everyone was in clothes they were sleeping in except for Aaron who still wore his suit, minus the tie and jacket. You didn’t know how he wasn’t freezing in only his white dress shirt. The rooms at the inn were relatively tiny, but the team had all managed to cram into Aaron’s room, who got one to himself this time. They’d all flocked to his room in an attempt to figure out if staying somewhere else was possible, except for you, who had already been there.

You were sitting on the couch in the room next to Aaron as you attempted to help him figure out how this particular unsub was kidnapping his victims. The couch was particularly small, leaving no room between you and him. The entire side of your thigh was pressed against his, warmth radiating off of him despite the cold room.

Aaron sighed, laying down the folder and running a hand across his temple. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. Everyone, go back to bed. Hopefully the heat will be back on soon.”

“You coming?” Emily, your roommate for the duration of time you would be in North Dakota, asked as everyone filed out of the room.

You shook your head. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to look over this one last time and see if there’s anything I missed.”

Emily told the both of you goodnight and left the room, leaving only you and Aaron still sitting together.

He made you very nervous. 

Aaron was older, extremely accomplished, more experienced in the job, and working with him alone was nerve-wracking. You’d proven yourself immensely in the short amount of time you had been a member of the BAU. Still – he was wonderful at everything. The idea of being wrong around him was terrifying.

As you continued to look through everything laid out in front of you, you couldn’t focus. It was so cold to the point where you couldn’t feel the tip of your nose anymore, and you were slightly shivering, crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up a little.

“Looks like I should’ve brought a winter coat to sleep in,” you attempted to joke.

The left corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped upward as he stood up and moved to the small closet. “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”

Before you knew it, there was a brown blanket being draped across your shoulders.

It wasn’t very thick nor was it very comfortable. In fact, it felt a little scratchy to the touch as it brushed over your bare hands, but Aaron situated it until it was entirely wrapped around you while his body hovered over yours. You stopped breathing momentarily, your heart picking up its pace every time his hands scraped over your own arms. Even through your thick sweatshirt and the blanket, you could still feel his touch.

“Thanks,” you muttered. Your heart rate had gone back down to normal now that he was moving to sit again.

“I can’t have one of my agents going hypothermic,” he joked and gave you one of his rare smiles; the ones that were usually reserved for outside of work.

You weren’t blind – Aaron Hotchner was a gorgeous man, and you wouldn’t deny that just the scent of his very expensive cologne alone was enough to make you feel slightly dizzy.

However, that's all you thought. He was your boss, and you were dealing with a breakup that was still laying heavy on your heart and constantly consumed your thoughts.

But even after the heat started working only half an hour later, you didn’t remove the blanket and temporarily forgot about the person who broke your heart while you worked next to him.

—

Three.

It was six months into your job when you found yourself having one of the worst days ever.

You’d woken up late and to a text from a friend letting you know that the ex you’d been getting over for half a year was now social-media-official with the person they told you not to worry about, you spilled coffee all over your car and your white top resulting in you being even later for work as you had to go back to your apartment and change.

You were a stumbling mess when you finally made it to the conference room for the meeting that you were six minutes late for. All eyes were focused on you as you mumbled apologies and sat down while trying to listen to Aaron’s voice. It was some housekeeping things and maybe you should’ve listened, but your head was elsewhere.

The rest of the day did not go well either. Halfway through the day, you had managed to screw up the fax machine, trip over your own shoes, and give yourself not one but two paper cuts. All of it sounded like minor things – a paper cut shouldn’t have set you off so badly, but it really did.

By the end of the day, you wouldn’t have minded if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. Once you did one more thing, you would finally be able to go home.

“Come in.”

Aaron’s office was a place that you had grown to not fear so much. In the beginning of your job, every time you had to go in, it almost felt like you were in middle school walking into the principal’s office as he sat there at his desk with a stoic stare and hardly any emotion in his voice.

“I got your email about needing to speak with me,” you told him, coming inside and shutting the door behind you. “What did you need?”

He looked up at you as you moved closer to his desk. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

You frowned. “I thought you said in the email that you needed to speak with me about something important?”

Aaron nodded as if it was no big deal. “You’ve been acting off all day. How you feel is an important thing – even if you think it isn’t. So, are you okay?”

Your heart broke at his kindness. He was always nice to you, maybe nicer than he should’ve been, but calling you into his office just to make sure you were okay after a bad day made you wonder why no one else had ever cared about your feelings like this.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “It’s just been a terrible day.”

Still sitting at his desk with his full attention on you, Aaron asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You wouldn't lie – you did think about his proposal for a moment. There weren't many people for you to talk to. You had friends, but not many in Quantico other than your co-workers. You’d moved alone without knowing anyone, and you worked so much that there was rarely time for you to go out and meet new people.

But Aaron was a busy man. He was probably just offering to be polite – there was no way he cared that much to hear about your miniscule problems when his job was as hectic and busy as it was.

“No, Hotch, I don’t want to keep you here any longer–”

He cut you off. “I’m already here; it doesn’t matter. You can talk to me. I’ve been rather concerned about you.”

At that moment, you couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why the idea of him thinking about you was enough to make your heart flutter.

“It’s… it’s stupid,” you started, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “I had a bad breakup right before I moved to Quantico. My ex didn't really care when I went to the Academy, but they exploded when I told them how I finally got this job. It was constant fighting before they gave me an ultimatum: them or taking the job.”

“And you chose the job?”

You laughed, feeling a little pathetic. “No, at first, I didn’t. They really got it stuck in my head that I wasn’t good enough to do this. I was going to turn it down and stay, but I changed my mind last minute. I found out this morning they’re now with someone else. Then, I was late, I fucked up the fax machine, and I got a couple paper cuts. It’s nothing, really – it was just a bad day.”

Aaron moved around in his seat, leaning back a little and crossing his arms. “It isn’t nothing if it bothers you.”

“I didn’t know you were a therapist,” you tried to joke, squirming awkwardly in your seat. You were already feeling vulnerable and the way he was looking at you wasn’t helping.

“Only part-time,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone – someone may think I have emotions.”

His face was completely stoic when he said it, but as soon as you started to laugh, he joined in.

“Really, though, I’m okay – just exhausted. I think the universe just hates me right now.” You stood up to leave. “I want to beat the rush hour traffic, so I should head out, but thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and you were on your way out while thinking the interaction was over, when he called out your name.

You stopped, hand still grasping the door you were about to open. “Yeah?”

“It’s their loss.”

A frown appeared on your face. “What do you mean?”

“Your ex,” he explained. “You shouldn’t lose sleep over someone who doesn’t know how lovely you are.”

Lovely.

You’d been called a lot of things in your life, probably even some adjectives better than lovely, but the way it just rolled out of Aaron’s mouth as if it was a casual, every-day-like occurrence made you feel warm.

Aaron Hotchner thought you were lovely and knowing that kept a smile on your face for days after while the wounds that had been given to you by someone else slowly healed.

—

Four.

After a year of working with the BAU, you ended up with your first unsub-related injury.

You thought going to the hospital was pointless because you truly felt fine, but both Derek and JJ argued relentlessly for you to go due to the nasty gash on your head. Unfortunately, you were outnumbered and sent to the hospital for an evaluation after the unsub you were after thought it was okay to slam you on the ground a little too hard, resulting in a blow to your head when you went down and hit the concrete.

JJ rode with you to the hospital in the ambulance that you, very much, did not think was necessary. After seeing a doctor, it was determined that you had a concussion. With a thick bandage on your wound and a drive home from JJ who gave you strict rules on taking care of yourself while you healed like the mother she was, you were finally alone in the comfort of your apartment after a long day spent in Manassas – the location of the latest case.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were starting to feel the symptoms and the sound of knocking on your door felt like nails being drilled into your head.

However, the person standing on the other side when you opened the door made your head spin faster than the concussion did.

Aaron was standing on the other side of the door, one hand holding a brown paper bag with a look of worry on his face. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, nose slightly red from where he had walked through the cold November air to get inside your apartment building.

In other words, he looked very good. It was hard to not grab and kiss him.

You’d developed somewhat of an attraction for your boss since that fateful day in his office. Not that you hadn’t been attracted to him before, but it now felt more like a serious affection and not some small crush – the first time you felt this way about anyone in a long time.

“Hi,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another upon seeing you. “How are you?” He paused after his eyes glanced at the very obvious bandage on your forehead. “Wait, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question right now. I’m sorry.”

You giggled despite the throbbing in your temple, moving to let him into your apartment. “I’m as good as I can be right now. Come on in.”

He walked into your apartment, following you into the kitchen after you shut the door and locked it. Aaron had only been to your apartment once after giving you a ride home from work, but this was the first time he’d ever been inside.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He asked while you got a glass of water.

You nodded slightly, careful to cause any more pain. “Probably, but I can’t get any rest until my medicine kicks in and my head doesn’t feel like it’s about to bust.”

Aaron winced. “I tried to come to the hospital, but JJ had already taken you home by the time I got there, so I came here. I apologize for coming unannounced and so late, but I had to make sure you were okay.”

“You do that a lot,” you told him, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen. “Making sure I’m okay.”

“I happen to care about you a lot.”

Hiding your smile behind the glass of water, you took a sip before focusing your attention back on the bag he brought with him. “What’s in the bag?”

It seemed as though he had forgotten he was still holding something. He raised it up and held it out to you, an almost-shy look dancing across his face that you’d never seen before on him. “I, um, made a stop at the store for you on my way over. It’s just over-the-counter medicine, extra bandages, and a couple snacks that I know you like. I figured it might help you out since you can’t drive for the next two days.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face. It was almost as if every time you thought Aaron couldn’t get any more perfect, he would prove you wrong.

He continued as he sat the bag down on the counter next to you. “I also wanted to tell you that Strauss said take all the time you need to recover.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “She did?”

There was only silence between the two of you as you looked at each other until he shrugged. “Well, I told her that you’re going to be taking all the time off that you need, and she didn’t really say anything so take all the time you need.”

“It’s just a concussion,” you told him. “I’ll be back to work soon.”

“A concussion is a serious thing,” Aaron said with a frown, not liking the way you brushed the injury off as nothing. “I’m glad you’re okay. Morgan said you hit the ground pretty hard before he cuffed the guy.”

You took another sip of your water before sitting it down. “I’m alive and well – Derek was just worried.”

As much as you were enjoying the feeling of talking with Aaron in your kitchen, the heaviness you felt in your eyes reminded you that it was nearly midnight, and you’d had a long day. The yawn that escaped your mouth didn’t go unnoticed.

“I should go and let you get some rest.”

You really didn’t want him to go. There weren't many other opportunities where you would get Aaron in your apartment like this. It felt oddly domestic, and you hated the fact that you loved it so much. But he was right – you did need the rest.

“Thank you again for stopping by,” you told him as the two of you walked the short distance back to the front door. “And for all the stuff you bought. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he said, his hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”

He was opening the door before you called out, “Wait,” your mind flooded with déjà vu from the time he stopped you on your way out of his office.

Aaron paused and turned to look back at you. His body hadn’t left the room yet, but the door was slightly ajar where he opened it. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to him and threw your arms around his broad torso engulfed in the softest sweatshirt you’d ever felt.

“Thank you,” you softly said. “Not just for tonight, but for, well, just caring about me.”

He didn’t waste a second reciprocating the hug as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, careful not to get near the bandage on your forehead and further hurt you. He was like a human heater – warm, tall, and you fit perfectly against him.

One hug from Aaron was like a band-aid healing any problem you had – even the external ones. Maybe this was what the placebo effect felt like and if this was it, you wanted it over and over again.

“Of course,” he muttered, arms still locked around you as if he needed this more than you did.

When you finally parted, his cheeks were dusted with a slight red shade as he wore one of his grins that you’d grown to love and receive more often. “Goodnight.”

Even though you had a raging headache and a painful cut on your temple, it had nothing on the big smile you kept on your face even as you drifted off into sleep that night still feeling warm and giddy.

—

Five.

It had been almost two months since you hugged Aaron in your apartment.

Since that night, something changed in the relationship between the two of you. You couldn’t really place your finger on what had changed, but there was a shift. Tension was thick – not in a bad way but in a way where you wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you any time you were alone.

You also had the feeling that he felt the same way. Aaron had been a profiler for many more years than you had been, but you liked to think you were good at your job. You could read him and from the way his eyes watched you, you could tell he was feeling the same tension in the air.

It was New Year’s Eve, and David Rossi had, after a lot of pleading from Penelope, agreed to host a small get-together for the team plus family including Will, Henry, and Jack – the latter two were currently running around the, very expensive, house, which was driving Dave insane as kept watch to make sure nothing got damaged due to the kids.

You were standing outside in the backyard, the late-December air hitting your face as you glanced down at your phone that told you it was almost midnight.

When you thought back to who you were around this time last year –  a woman in a new city with a demanding job and hardly any friends, still crying yourself to sleep over someone who didn’t deserve your tears – it made you want to smile.

It had been a little over a year since you started working at the BAU and as you glanced inside through the large glass doors, you felt like you belonged. There was no more doubt, no more tears, and no more days where you wanted to run away.

“What are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” You turned around to find Aaron closing one of the glass doors and moving towards you.

He was wearing a black quarter zip and jeans – a casual outfit but one of your favorites. For reasons that you couldn’t understand, Aaron Hotchner in a quarter zip made you feel things.

“I came out here because it’s cold,” you told Aaron, leaning against a railing and crossing your sweater-covered arms. “It’s so hot and stuffy in there. It’s like Rossi is trying to burn us all alive.”

Aaron laughed and walked over next to you. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. “He does keep his house pretty hot.”

“Is Jack having a good time?”

Jack Hotchner was probably your favorite kid you’d ever met. He was a total sweetheart, and you instantly got along with him from the first day you met him.

You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s face lit up a little as you mentioned his son. “Yes, I think so. He’s a big fan of celebrating the New Year because he gets to stay up late.” You then watched his face fall a bit. “He’s been missing his mom a lot lately, so coming here tonight – it’s good for him.”

You knew of Aaron’s ex-wife who had died before you joined the team, and you knew the terrible way that it happened. You’d also heard that it greatly affected Jack and Aaron, even though he hid it more than he should’ve.

“It must be hard on him, but I’m glad he’s having a good time tonight.”

Aaron smiled. “He loves the team, but I think you’re his favorite.”

You grinned. “No way! I’m honored.”

A comfortable silence grew between the two of you with no sounds other than distinct chatter and laughs from inside of the house. You glanced over to Aaron who was pulling out his phone.

“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said. “You want to head back inside and watch the ball drop?”

You almost said yes at first because you actually did want to see the ball drop, but you also wanted a moment alone with Aaron considering you rarely got them in a setting outside of work. Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t care – a few more minutes with him wouldn’t hurt. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”

He didn’t say anything. Aaron kept his phone out so the two of you could keep an eye on the clock app, its tiny, orange hand moving around the twelve, now signalizing that it was eleven fifty-nine.

Your eyes kept watch on the clock as it got closer to passing twelve again. You were starting to get nervous. A part of you expected Aaron to go inside after you told him you weren’t going back in – it wasn’t like he was obligated to stay out in the cold with you.

However, he never went back inside and as the clock kept getting closer to midnight, only seconds away now, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were: the traditional New Year’s kiss.

You discretely searched for any sign on his face that gave away if he was going to kiss you or not. You so desperately wanted it but if he wasn’t thinking the same thing, there was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by trying to kiss him.

Ten.

Still no sign – you were starting to panic a little.

Nine.

What were you supposed to do?

Eight.

Would he rather have a handshake? He did have a pretty firm grip.

Seven.

No, screw a handshake. Who gives someone a handshake at midnight on New Year’s?

Six.

He put down his phone and was starting to turn toward you.

Five.

Was he actually going to kiss you?

Four.

“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but can I kiss you?”

Three.

You couldn’t form words, only a nod, eyes slightly widened.

Two.

He was moving his hand up to your cheek and, oh dear, this was actually going to happen.

One.

Aaron’s lips were warm against yours, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever been kissed with so much delicacy. He was gentle and respectful. Your hands pressed against his chest before you finally moved them up to the nape of his neck under the collar of the quarter zip you loved so much, pulling him even closer to you.

You felt secure and safe pressed up tightly against him with one hand of his cupping your jaw as the other rested firmly on your lower back. Your mouth was opening up before you could even stop it. Aaron smiled against your lips as he felt it before he deepened the kiss.

 This time, he was kissing you much more firmly and with the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, you couldn’t remember the last time, or if ever, you felt the way you did. His hand pressed even harder against your back, making you inhale sharply during the kiss.

There was a time in your life when you thought you would never find someone else – that maybe you were destined to be alone all because of one person who didn’t see your worth, but Aaron made all the pain go away to the point where you hadn’t thought of the person who hurt you in months.

Aaron made you feel like you were floating all the time. He reminded you of your worth instead of breaking you down. He was a man who did both the small things like throwing a blanket around your cold body and the big things like bringing you snacks and medicine after a hit to the head – the definition of “if he wanted to, he would” in the best way possible.

“Hey! You guys missed the – holy shit!”

You flung yourself off Aaron and looked behind him to see Emily standing there, her mouth wide open. You’d never seen her utterly speechless like she was at the moment. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, glancing back and forth between the two of you before she finally found something to say.

 “Morgan and Reid owe me fifty bucks.”

—

(+) One.

It was three months into Aaron Hotchner’s relationship with you when he knew with absolute certainty that he loved you.

His job was difficult, and today was no different but instead of shaking it off before going home, he couldn’t help but feel a cloud of emotion follow him all the way back home to his apartment.

He knew that you were waiting on him because the two of you were supposed to have dinner. You’d gotten to leave at a reasonable time and not, he glanced down at his watch, at nine at night. Aaron had a lot of duties and responsibilities as Unit Chief, but he sometimes wished he didn’t in order to come home at a normal hour.

Aaron saw you sitting on his couch as soon as he unlocked and opened his front door. You smiled sweetly as you looked over at him, no trace of frustration or anger at how late he was getting home.

“Everything go okay with those reports? I know Strauss was giving you a hard time,” You said as you glanced back down at your phone you were holding. When he didn’t answer, he saw you look back up at him again but this time with a frown on your face.

He knew the look he had on his face was giving him away, but he just couldn’t force himself to not feel the way that he was feeling.

You put your phone down on the coffee table and stood up to move in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“That’s usually my line to you,” he attempted a joke, but it never reached his eyes.

You responded with a half-smile. “Bad evening?”

Aaron nodded, not saying anything further. You moved closer as you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, honey,” he said, instantly feeling a little better just from your touch. “I missed dinner. I’m not the one who should be upset.”

You pulled back and rested both hands on each side of his face as he kept his situated on your waist. “Someone told me once that how you feel is an important thing even if you think it isn’t.”

He chuckled a bit. “Using my own words against me, huh?”

You cracked a smile. “It’s okay that you missed dinner. I know you had a rough and busy evening. Don’t worry about me. We can have dinner another night – it’s not a big deal that you couldn’t make it.”

You were looking at him so sincerely and touching him with so much care that he couldn’t help but pull you back in again, eyes closing at the feeling of another hug from you.

“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled to him. “You look like you could go for an early night.”

Aaron wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone as good as you – someone who cared for him even on days when he didn’t care for himself. You were kind, understanding, and patient. Sometimes he couldn’t even believe he was lucky enough to be with someone like you.

So while he wasn’t sure of how deserving he really was, he was one hundred percent sure of the fact that he loved you and your lovely self.

[stvharrngton]

don’t leave me hangin’ on the telephone

a/n: just a lil somethin somethin i wrote inspired by a certain blondie song :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), dirty talk, friends to lovers sorta, hint of perv!steve if you squint

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Your back hit your bed with a quiet thud, your clothes still stuck to your body, one shoe off, one shoe on. The bottle of wine, or two, you shared with Nancy sounded like a great idea at the time but now the room was spinning and your skin was buzzing, it seemed less so.

Groaning, you managed to get your other shoe off, downing half the glass of water you’d left on your nightstand. You glanced at the red numbers on your alarm clock, 12:02 they read, and then at the phone on the table.

Wine always had you like this. A little needy, a little desperate. Hot under the collar and skin clammy, usually fixed with a cold shower or a hand shoved down your panties.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, toying with the flesh as the scenario you imagined swirled around your brain. He’d been on your mind all night, in fact, he was never off your mind. A crush on your best friend that he was totally oblivious to.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up the phone and dialling the number you had memorised long ago. It rang out a couple times, a part of you hoped that he wouldn’t pick up but another part of you hoped he really fucking did.

“Hello?”

Your heart was in your throat as the person on the end of the line answered, their voice gravelly and rough as if they’d just woken up. 

“Hi, Stevie,” you whispered as innocently as you could. Fingers curling around the phone cord as you try your best to remain calm.

“What time is it, is everything okay?” your heart swooned at the quick change of tone in his voice, the panic evident. Steve knew you were hanging out with Nancy tonight and there would be alcohol involved, he just hoped you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble.

“A little after midnight,” you replied, your fingers toying with the strap on your top, thighs squeezing together at the mere sound of Steve’s voice on the other end, “and I’m okay, just wanted to hear your voice s’all.”

Ouch, subtlety was never your thing when tipsy. You could only imagine the look on Steve’s face in the dark of his bedroom, hair still full of sleep, lips soft and pink, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” You could hear the cockyness clear in his voice, the sound making you gnaw on your bottom lip out of arousal.

“No reason.” You lied. There was a reason, a reason that you hoped Steve would be able to pick up on so you wouldn’t have to utter the words yourself. Something told you that you were both on the same page.

Steve thought he was dreaming when he answered the phone and you were on the other line, voice sweet like saccharine. Truth be told you were all Steve thought about. His gaze follows you whenever you aren't looking, thoughts circling his mind about how his life would be ten times better if you were his girl. Innocence interrupted by impure dreams of how good you would look bouncing on his cock whenever you would wear that skimpy red two piece by his pool, or that skirt was a little too short.

“I’ll just hang up then if you won’t tell me, sweetheart.” Steve teased.

“No!” you cried, internally closing in on yourself at how desperate you sounded, “No, please don’t go.” Your fingers were now teasing the waistband of your shorts, your need to keep Steve on the line ever present.

Steve chuckled on the other end, hushing you as you got yourself worked up. “Fine, fine,” he started, “but you gotta give me something here, love.”

You groaned, cursing as you hoped he wouldn’t actually make you say it. “Just keep talking, please?” you asked, fluttering your lashes wishing he could see, “I just need to–” you cut yourself off, preserving your dignity.

Steve played along happily, engaging in small talk until he could hear the quiet breaths and subtle groans coming from the end of the line, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he blurted out.

You could only respond with a small moan, your fingers now situated in your panties, your index finger teasing your throbbing clit. Your eyes shot open as soon as the noise left your mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in total embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered under his breath, “are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” he cooed, his attention fully on the sounds you were making on the other end of the line.

“No, I–” your voice quivered, “you think I’m pretty?” you asked innocently, Steve’s words suddenly registering in your foggy brain.

Steve chuckled, running a hand through his messy bed hair, “I do, yeah,” you could hear his breath become a little heavier, a little more shaky, “but I’d think you were a whole lot prettier if your hand was in those panties.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. All you could hear was your racing heart beat, all the blood rushing to the tips of your ears. Steve’s voice rang in your ears when he spoke up again.

“You still there, babe?” He asked, minor concern mixed with self assuredness lacing his voice.

“I’m still here, Stevie,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “gonna tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?” he asked, his own palm running down his chest now, fingers sitting pretty at the waistband of his boxers.

You considered not answering, considered telling him some lie that somehow ended up with your fingers playing with your pussy to the sound of Steve’s voice, but fuck it, you were too far gone.

“Y-you.” Your voice was shaky, full of adrenaline and wracked with nerves. You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for his response, your thighs clenching as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

“Yeah?” he questioned, “What about me?” 

You sighed in response, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You cursed Steve at the boldness of his question and you knew he would pull the answer from you one way or another. On the other hand your head was too fuzzy and all you could think about was the tension in your lower stomach and Steve.

“Your fingers.” you breathed, fingers now circling your clit once more.

“Oh yeah?” Steve chuckled, “What about my fingers, pretty girl?”

The pet name made you swoon and your heart beat faster, “How good they’d feel in my pussy,” you whispered down the phone. You were now long past caring about any feelings of embarrassment or preserving any dignity.

You heard Steve mumble out a curse on the other end of the line before he spoke again, “Mm, I bet they would. Why don’t you take your fingers and pretend they’re mine for a minute, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined as your fingers moved further south, circling your entrance before you plunged a single finger into your cunt. You breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, a sound that went straight to Steve’s cock.

The boy had his fingers wrapped around his length now, softly tugging as his lips parted, praying to God that this was real and wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. He had the girl of his dreams moaning and whimpering on the end of the phone line, Steve swore he had died and gone to Heaven.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, his voice sticky sweet and a sexy kind of patronising.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, trying your best to curl your finger like you imagined Steve would, “but it would feel better if it was the real thing.” 

“I’m sure it would, honey,” you heard Steve mumble, before hearing the sound of him clearly spitting into the palm of his hand rang loud in your ear, the sound going straight to your core, your arousal coating your fingers and leaking down onto the sheets, “and I’ll give you the real thing, real soon, I promise, but can you do one thing for me?”

Your fingers slowed as your eyebrows pinched together before you stuttered out, “Yes, Steve, I’ll do anything.”

Steve wished you could see the smirk on his face at your response, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his aching cock as his spoke, “Wanna grab that flesh coloured toy I know you keep in your bottom drawer and fuck yourself with it f’me?”

You gasped at his request, your movements all but stopping in their tracks. You wracked your brain as to how he would know what you kept in that drawer but you were all but stumped. The silence on your end of the line had Steve wondering if he’d crossed a line and taken it too far but he couldn’t help himself.

Truth is, he’d seen the silicone length, complete with veins, tucked away when you’d left the drawer open accidentally when you’d excused yourself to the bathroom a month or so ago. And Steve found it simply impossible to get the image of you filling yourself up with the toy out of his mind.

“Is that okay?” Steve asked, bottom lip held firmly between his teeth now. Heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of being rejected. He could hear you moving and rustling at the other end, the anticipation making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart was racing, his hands growing clammy. Saliva thick in his mouth as his stomach churned with nerves.

You settled back against your plump pillows with the dildo in hand, holding the phone to your ear once more. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the toy, “I have it.” you squeaked out, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Steve purred, his fist beginning to pump at his cock once more, “now can you suck on it a little? Get it nice and wet f’me, baby.”

You mumbled a little mhm down the phone and Steve could only imagine what you looked like with, could only dream about what you would like with his own cock in your mouth, bright eyes blinking up at him and spit dripping down your chin. Fuck, what Steve wouldn’t give to see that.

You whined down the receiver as your hand was preoccupied, leaving you to only be able to squeeze your thighs together. The sound of you sucking and slurping on the silicone cock made Steve impossibly harder, his cock now aching and throbbing, the tip angry and leaking precum.

Steve’s jaw went slack at the sound of the dildo hitting the back of your throat, gagging on the toy, a string of spit still attached to the thing as you pulled it from your mouth. You breathed heavy down the line as you regained your composure.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, his stomach tensing as he squeezing his eyes shut, “why don’t you stretch out that little hole for me?”

You gulped at his words, teasing yourself with the toy like you usually did. Letting the tip of the dildo brush over your clit a couple times before you pushed the head into your entrance, wincing at the sweet little stretch it created. You moaned loudly once you sunk the toy a quarter of the way in, moving it in and out slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, “can you go a little faster for me? Wanna hear how wet that pretty little pussy is.” 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned before obeying his wishes, speeding up your movements, fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt faster now. In a deliberate attempt to tease the boy, get him real riled up, you pulled on the phone, stretching the cord until the receiver was closer to the apex of your thighs.

The loud sound of the wet slap of your pussy as you fucked yourself with the toy boomed over the line and Steve reacted as expected. Hand tugging on his cock faster now, his feet firmly planted on his mattress as he bucked his hips up into his hand, his breath getting heavier and his moans getting louder.

You brought the phone back to your ear so you could moan out the boy’s name, “Oh, Steve,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so well, honey, fuck–” Steve groaned, “taking that cock so well, huh? Can’t wait to see you take the real thing, shit, bet that pussy’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, Stevie,” you whined, bucking your hips to match the movements of the toy, “wish you were here. Need your cock so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even here and you were already so fucked out, so close to your orgasm, one you knew was going to wipe you out. The sound of his strained voice over the line, his unruly and raspy moans were driving you insane. 

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” he cooed, “you’ll get it real soon, I’ll fuck you real good, nice and deep. I bet that’s how you like it, hm?” 

Once Steve opened his mouth the words wouldn’t stop. There was no going back now, no hiding any feelings, no sparing himself of any embarrassment. The poor boy was drunk on you, drunk on the sweet little whines and whimpers that found their way down the phone receiver. 

“It is, yes, fuck, it is,” you cried, “I need to cum, Steve, please?” You dropped your grip on the toy, your fingers resuming their circles on your clit, your movements becoming faster, “Oh, please can I cum?”

“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, his own orgasm around the corner, “yeah, go on baby, cum for me.” 

The boy’s words pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking as you writhed on the bed. Your pussy fluttered as you came, moaning Steve’s name down the receiver like a song, the sweetest melody that Steve had ever heard. 

“That’s my good girl, does that feel good?” Steve’s palm was slick with his own spit as it was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping his fist harder and faster. Steve moaned loudly as you rode out your high, his own climax a stroke of his cock away.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets as he came, painting his stomach with ropes of hot cum. Babbling words of praise and incoherent moans into the phone, followed by heavy breaths.

The line went quiet for a beat, nothing to be heard but the both of you catching your breaths and regaining your composure. Your head became clear now, no longer tipsy, no longer desperate, suddenly realising what had just happened. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you went to speak, before Steve cut you off.

“I think I owe you a real date after that,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “pick you up at 7?”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hello! I LOVE your Steve/William fics so far and I saw your requests are open. I was thinking a younger William when he first started killing and like after he got done with his first murder the reader found out and is offended that he didn't ask for help. kinda like a murder couple duo from your fic partner in crime, maybe like a origins story? idk, I'll leave that up to you!

Have a good day!

hi! I love this sm. I’m using Stu as a young will because duh

ℬ𝓁ℴℴ𝒹

Warnings- Insane couple again, mentions of blood, blades, murdering children yk the usual

“Hey, honey.” He mumbled, kissing the crook of your neck, nuzzling his face in it.

“Hey. You got off work early.” You giggled, not even realizing he had come inside.

“I know. Decided to wrap things up early. Think I’m gonna go out tonight.”

“With who?”

“Henry.” He lied.

“Mmm.. okay. When are you gonna go?”

“Later. But right now..” he put a hand on your chin, kissing your lips and smiling against them.

—————————————————————-

The knife in his bag was weighing heavy. Would he really be doing this tonight?

You knew of his plan with the pizzeria. You knew of it when you had gotten together. You wanted one thing, and that was to be in on it. It intrigued you, the idea.

He knew you’d be pissed if you found out he did it without you. But, he wanted to test the waters first.

It was the middle of the day, a time where no one would suspect much. He was walking around in the woods, waiting for any unsuspecting kid.

He hid deep in the bushes, where he caught a little boy roaming around, giggling. He seemed to not see William, until William grabbed the boy. He was covering the blondes mouth, and put a knife to his throat.

William snuck around, quietly taking the boy back to his car and speeding away before his sister realized he was gone.

The boys hands were tied now, he screamed for help but William just rolled his eyes at the boy.

“Shut up.” He groaned in annoyance. Oh well, he’d have to get used to it.

Once he reached the pizzeria, he made sure no one was around. He walked in, grabbing the kid roughly by the arm while doing so.

William forced the boy to lay down, strapping him into a metal like confinement.

The blades of Williams creation started to move. He smiled sadistically when the boy turned his head, whimpering and trying to escape this fate.

“Sweet dreams.” He laughed, as the boy yelled in pain, blood splattered around the floors, and hit William, who was continuing to laugh madly.

—————————————————————

You snuggled up on the couch, grabbing pieces of popcorn from your bowl while watching a scary movie.

He came in rather loudly, this time. You looked back and smiled, but something was off with him.

“Hi, baby.” He mumbled, walking up to you and leaning down to give you a kiss.

“Hi. You have fun?” You asked, holding him by the back of his neck, rubbing up and down.

“Yeah. Yeah. I think I’m gonna go take a shower, okay?” He spoke quietly, he wanted you to keep focusing on the movies so you didn’t notice the blood stains currently on him, and the knife tucked away in the bag.

“Okay.” You said back, giving him one last kiss before he left. You turned back to the tv, when you realized something out of the corner of your eye.

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to the bag on the table. He had walked in the house, and grabbed his shoes with him, which is something he never did. And you noticed a silver little thing reflecting in the dimness, hidden away.

You walked towards the bag on the table, picking up the object that caught your eye. A knife, stained with blood. Your eyes widened, had he gone killing without you?

You put it back into the bag, deciding to wait until he left the bathroom.

He left with a towel hung low on his waist, he entered the room and threw his clothes under the bed. He looked back, seeing you standing behind him.

He jumped at you, not expecting it.

“Holy- don’t scare me like that.”

“Care to explain?” You dropped the bag in front of his feet.

“What are you talking about?” He pretended, asking in a confused tone.

“The knife! Did you go without me?”

“Wh- baby… why would I-“

“Don’t lie to me, Afton.”

He sighed, sitting on the bed. He pulled out his clothes from underneath the bed.

“Fine. I just wanted a little taste, I promise-“

You groaned “Will! You said we would do it together.” You complained.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and genuinely had meant it. You sighed, sitting next to him.

“Did I make you upset?” He asked quietly.

“Yes. I’m offended.”

“Oh, c’mere.” He grabbed your shoulder, pressing your body against his as he rubbed his hand up and down your arm.

“Promise not to without me next time?”

“I promise. As a matter of fact, I’ll let you do it by yourself.”

[danger-noodle-uwu]

Trigger warning [mentions of killing/arguments/death/break-ups/cheating/etc]

Satan

Wrath is vengeful, wrath is destruction however this never bothered you or got in the way of dating Satan, The Avatar of wrath himself.

But as one could say, the true nature of a being could never remain under the covers. There was vengeance peering above the surface, and destruction awaiting at an unknown's doors, you did not knew.

Satan had great many contacts and to keep that up, he need to do few favors but not every favor was not-so-bloody. And lost in such an expectations of others did he forget an important day like today.

As always the day started as chaos, which couldn't have been helped either way and the blond had grown sick of that, unknown to the cause of chaos and decided to act upon the list he had, completely overlooking your smile, or the stunning outfit complimenting your figure or the day itself.

Upon this ignorance of his, you really wished face-palm. His demeanor was rather annoying, which only fueled you more to smack him. Really hard.

Today was well-planned, at least that's what you thought before dragging him away from his target and scolding him for leaving you on your own in a place crawling with demons.

Satan being the literal embodiment of wrath yet also your lover said "Get off me. I have things to do. And stop being so damn clingy." "Hey, it's your fault for leaving me on my special day!plus, there's sooo many things I wanna do toda–"

"Please shut up for once in your goddamn life!!" His sharp scream cut you off as his eyes bore into yours; eyes full of hatred and disgust as if you were a wretched grotesque placed before him.

Those words accompanied by his harsh glares was enough to make your heart shatter and knifes to be jabbed in your chest while eyes stung with tears that you pathetically hid by averting them as you asked "what did I do wrong..?"

Who knew that one sentence was enough to make those unshed tears flow and litter your rosy cheeks that he'd usually squish and fawn over but alas, all that comforted you was his back.

"Your whole being is the most ugliest!" Lies. Lies. He knew his tongue spat venom at you with words that could never be true because you're his world but the blinding rage doesn't allow him to say so and thus instead, his hand runs through golden locks out of pure frustration as he finally turned to face you.

There was something terrifying about him that very moment which made you mumble out a small "...I'm sorry..." before running off; the sharp pain in your heart only grew with him staring at you like that. It was all just too much. His wrath was suffocating you but to ruin your birthday without even remembering it.

You did didn't care for how bad your muscles ached as you ran further away from him. All that you wanted is to be alone and cry your heart out in hopes that this agony would subside yet part of you hoped that he cared and would come after you or stop you. Which never happened.

Satan has always been so...uncooperative and complicated towards everyone that it almost made him unreachable at times especially when it comes to Lucifer however today, it became different.

His face was scrunched and tense as Lucifer advised him to give you space before talking things out and perhaps getting you a gift as well for both an apology and your birthday; his body pacing back and forth in his room reconsidering things he's spoke until now, not even bothered to consider this as a special day while his elder patiently waited for him to calm down. They both how much you mean to Satan despite him hurting you and making you feel unwanted.

And would anyone look at the avatar of wrath while he's on his knees; practically begging to set things write and for you to accept his apology. However much like always, you don't fail at surprising him when your lips clumsily crash against his.

That he moment he knew how truly beautiful you are in every sense. From physical appearance to your dream-like soul. Every inch was perfect.

Asmodeus

'Touchy and irresponsible as always' you sighed looking over and frowning at Asmodeus who was so clearly lost in the seemingly endless attention they give him as their hands roam his body while he's biting his lip. He was enjoying this, wasn't he?

The thought of him being touched by somebody else made your stomach churn and eyes sting with hurt and envy; he was the avatar of lust, true but couldn't he not do this on your birthday at least and pay attention to you.

You could bet as to how pathetic you were looking drinking demonus with tears in your eyes and surrounded by demons who could just swallow you whole without your lover even batting an eye. Afterall, he'd rather be someone's bed warmer than your boyfriend.

"Hey...are you okay?" Honestly, you didn't know this stranger's name or anything about him but he still had some concern for your well-being; way more than your beloved however made you self-conscious as how pathetic you may have appeared and let your emotions get the best of you in front of unknown people.

"Yea..." you replied flushed from embarrassment and the crimson liquid that rested in your glass. It was really humiliating and made you feel awfully shy at the same time.

"If you say so, but don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything bothering you or if—" He leans closer to whisper in your ear before continuing "—someone's bothering you..." His voice was authoritative yet gentle much akin to a soft breeze from the human world despite being a demon.

"Oh! And I'm Ethan..." a blush ghosted over his cheeks as he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself while you told him yours as he gave you his number offering to help you just in case.

Truth be told, you were smiling to yourself glancing on the tissue that he wrote his number on and the fact that he even wrote happy to help made you grin wider. It was such a sweet gesture.

However unknownst to you, Asmo seemed to have noticed the whole interaction and was fuming with envy; so jealous that he could put Levi to shame. His face burned with heat and beads of sweat rolled down. He hated how that putrid demon had the audacity to flirt and blush at you yet his anger only stirred further when you smiled at him.

The avatar of lust stormed over to you and dragging you out of the fall, harsh grip on your wrist that would probably leave a bruise and then slammed you against the cold wall in the alleyway.

"What are you—!!" You were muffled by his lips smashing against yours; hands roaming your body as desire burned in your veins. Lips synced and danced against each other into a steamy make-out session however he pulled away.

"Why were you flirting with that guy?! You know that demons can hurt you then why my darling must you do this?!" It was irritating as to how he interrogated you but didn't even consider his own actions and the way he neglected you.

Did he even remember your birthday..?

"You say this as if YOU weren't smothering some random people in front of your girlfriend on OUR date!!" And finally, he realized what he's been doing all day. He was avoiding and ignoring you, too busy and consumed by his own...thoughts while you constantly tried to spend quality time with him.

"Baby...I'm sorry..." He coos gently holding your face and cradling you as tears cascaded your face. You looked so miserable because him and he made an internal promise to treat you better and not neglect your emotions.

"Y-you even forgot my birthday..." you sobbed into his soft hands as his eyes widened before he kissed you again. This time much gently and lovingly; full of adoration and affection but desperate for you.

You knew he meant it but forgiving is easier said than done. Even if you would accept him, it'd much later as for now, you wanted him to show is emotions; his real self that was vulnerable and loving; one that was guilty of hurting you. One that loved you beyond his own sin.

You would be lying if you said your heart wasn't melting for him as his hand intertwined with yours while the other rested around your waist and blush littered his face; all for you.

All of him softened just for you; all those emotions showered upon you because all of his love was meant for you.

Beelzebub

Gluttony is like a venom that spreads in your body; turning one into a hungry beast ready to devour his prey and another into a starved being—but for somebody who personified the sin in itself would be beyond a monster or an other horrendous creature imaginable.

Thus, can you really blame Beelzebub for ingesting the whole food supply of house of lamentation alongside of some cutlery after a seemingly intense workout as well 7 hours of helping satan shift his books in order to clean the empty space.

He was salivating at the sight of everything before as his vision molded it into something edible...delicious and well; in front of him were you, standing there awkwardly as his eyes hovered over you however not in a lustful but more like a locking the meat of your bones manner.

"B-beel, you alright..?" His intense gaze made you feel uncomfortable as you shifted in your place yet he didn't blink once as if his hunger overtook him...making him forget who you were.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't move an inch without him lunging at you with those eyes full of hunger for anything to satiate the emptiness within his stomach including you. However, Luck was on your side since it was your own birthday as Asmodeus happened to pass by the scene hoisting his phone up taking selfish before rushing towards you.

"Darling, Beel, what are you guys... doing?" By the end of his question, he knew what was coming. He is well aquaintated with Beel's endless hunger that violently shook the atmosphere in the whole house.

As you stood unblinking staring back at the avatar of gluttony trembling with fear whilst his ragged breaths were heard in the silence of the hall. The very next second he pounced at you transforming into his demon form; claws beared as if he was readily about to rip your heart out.

Yet somehow you were alive; alive and thrown over like a sack of potatoes on Asmo's shoulder as he sprinted towards his room with an echoing sound of certain rumbling in the background that made shiver in dread.

"Honey, you're alright. You're safe, okay? Phew!" He collapsed next to you on the floor next to you after ensuring the door was properly locked, clearly out of breath while still attempting to comfort your troubled form.

Despite knowing he cannot control his hunger, you couldn't help but tighten your throat or fall victim to the ache plastered within your chest. He loves you, you know it but this...hurt more than expected.

The clutches of gluttony were like shackles that bound him and drove him to try to...the thought alone makes you want throw up or is it because his twin succeeded at a similar task.

"Hey...Mc, don't cry, darling. It'll all be okay, I promise! Forget everything it's your birthday, isn't it?" The blond cradled you in his arms trying to shush away your tears meanwhile you sobbed and cried; planned everything, got up early to bake for him and even got the tickets to a movie he was excited about.

"It's so unfair! So unfair, Asmo!!" Why did this have to happen when all you did was try your best? Why are you doomed to fail at every given task? Was this all your fault?

Such thoughts consumed you wholly as your sobs turned into more cries that dragged Asmo's poor heart along with it; it hurt him so much to see someone he considered family be hurt so much. To be broken that they're reduced to a teary mess on the floor.

In the hallway, Lucifer and Satan towered upon Beelzebub who finally calmed down, happily chomping the food he was given; almost uncaring of his twin that laid kissing the ground with a large bruise forming on his forehead.

"W-where *chomp* is cupcake?" He muttered with a mouthful, thinking you must be hungry and not even remembering what he did as he was a puppet under the control of his sin.

"In Asmodues's room..." Lucifer sighed while Satan raged at the sight of the havoc wrecked upon his book—cursed ones, collector's edition, etc. They were everywhere torn into half or bites into and discarded afterwards.

"They must be sobbing since you were ever so nice to them on their birthday!" Satan mocked knowing how badly his brother fucked up while the orange head gushed the memories right into his eyes. Each moment he made a decision worse than the other.

"Oh my poor Mc, sleep well..." you didn't realize how exhausted you were from the whole event that you passed out between Asmo's arms who later tucked you within the comforting confines of your own bed.

But peace never really lasted long as you woke up, only to be greeted by a decorated room, a cake with several other snacks littered on the table and Beelzebub by your side with apologetic eyes as a melody played accompanied by the voices belonging to the remaining brothers.

"I'm sorry, cupcake...I didn't mean to scare you or hurt you, I just don't know what's wrong with me but please forgive me...I love you..." His eyes bore guilt as he was reminded of an older time, an older mistake before his hands caged yours affectionately before kissing them lovingly.

The orange headed demon never wished to be more than your protector, that gives away his life to save yours but also a lover that wants to build a family with you; one that he loves dearer than himself.

Belphegor

Does fate really hate you? If not, why must it be you who suffers with people misunderstanding you or blaming you for actions not performed by you?

"Come on, it's not that bad...just a stupid nightmare!" You hopped onto your feet before changing into your outfit for the day; one that made you feel good about yourself unlike the haunting nightmares that weren't leaving you alone.

As you left your room trying your best to force a smile out, there was a voice that felt familiar as it belonged to a certain great demon who bestowed the wishes of having the best birthday.

"Happy birthday, h-human!" He spoke loudly as if reminding the others of the day despite the whole hall being empty. The gesture in itself was funny, his hand putting your head like a puppy except for the part he himself looked like one.

"Thanks, mammon." And there it was your signature smile that could possibly make anybody melt, though how could you believe it; a rose can never see its reflection.

Reaching the dining hall, the atmosphere felt tense as if everyone was on edge, all but one person. He was missing entirely. Belphegor wasn't there. Was he still asleep?

Before you could ask, Lucifer announced "Belphegor will not be joining us today." And continued to finish his breakfast with what seemed to be a bothered expression.

"Hey beel, what happened?" You couldn't help wonder what did your boyfriend did this time to piss of the eldest and if so, why wasn't satan assisting the crime. "Belphi, h-he said some really mean things..." beelzebub was feeling guilty fill up his stomach, his appetite dying or perhaps killed by someone else.

"Okay..." you knew that the orange headed demon was hiding something, swallowing his own words however why you just couldn't decipher. His voice was strained that it made you feel very uneasy about what really conspired when you were asleep.

"Levi, can you tell me what really happened? Please!!" You pleaded with puppy eyes as soon as the remaining brothers had dispersed from the dining hall; to avoid the extra ears and overly exaggerated explanations.

"Normie, first off promise me you won't tell anybody that i told you this!" He whisper-yelled as you nodded your head vigorously. "Okay--fine, so belphi woke up in a super sour mood and since lucifer decided to call him to the dining hall himself...he said a lot of mean things..."

Leviathan felt a bitter taste in his mouth knowing his next words would most likely ruin your birthday and put you into doubt of your own relationship and partner.

"He spoke a lot of nonsense about lucifer, you know normie...And he--um, he said you weren't that great and just kinda wasted his time w-which is like total bullshit, right? Like normie, you're like Henry 3.0, totally cool and awesome!" He tried his best to soothe the wound he had to give you in order for the truth to be told.

But there it was, a sound of your own heart being crushed and sensation of wet tears dripping down your cheeks. It hurt you so much to hear that your lover spoke of you behind your back that you couldn't take it anymore and sprinted all the way back to your room; leaving Leviathan to only his worry and concern in the dining hall.

Especially on your birthday, that in itself felt like a cheap move being played on you as you felt needles pricking through your chest, and it hurt so much. It felt like the nightmares were true when they played the same scenario where he used you; he used you like a pawn.

Meanwhile, in the twins' room, Belphegor laid in bed with a weird feeling filling him; one that felt so heavy that he couldn't sleep it off. But why? He just couldn't pinpoint.

"Belphi, have spoken with Mc yet? It's their birthday...you should really go to see them..." the avatar of gluttony had his head lowered as he pouted; visibly hungry but at a lack of food.

"WHAT!" "Yea its their birthday, belphi..?" Belphegor panicked for at least 5 minutes before gathering himself and rushing to the kitchen to make something--a cake, should it be okay but what if you're craving ramen instead..? Or something salty? SHIT

He's never been so frantic and panicked; he felt like a single mother raising 6 children...wait why does that sound familiar? ANYWAYS, no time for that.

It took about 2 hours for the whole thing to be prepared; while he had tasked satan to buy your favorite snacks. In the end, he was drenched in sweat from the whole last minute preparation that he did.

On the other hand, you were passed out on your bed; tears dried up on your face and slightly puffy lips and very gracelessly flopped onto your bed.

Belphegor's heart ached at the sight of you, he knew his words have been heard by someone who didn't deserve them. Who deserved love and not such cruel things.

"Love, wake up...c'mon its your birthday..." He voice was gentle as if a one wrong word could shatter you like glass and his hands caressed your cheeks; before kissing you passionately.

You rubbed your eyes as your boyfriend kissed your forehead and pulled you off of the bed. He was smothering you with kisses somewhat lazily; letting eachone feel feather like on your skin.

"Happy birthday my star, I'm sorry for what is said earlier...I promise you that I never meant any of it...I just--lost myself to anger, I'm sorry." He's efforts were visible in both his voice and your room; the blanket Fort certainly seemed impressive and most likely he had your favorite movie paused.

"It's not okay to speak such things about you're partner belphi on any day let alone their birthday. Yet I am much kinder than you think...I forgive you." You pouted with fake anger evident in your voice; playing pretend was fun as hr fell for your words in the beginning but definitely caught up in the end.

And as the day came to a close, you both were snuggled into each other's warmth and cuddling; the harsh words and hot tears forgotten or perhaps changed into smiles of contentment.

Afterall, belphegor was your dark sky and you were his star; without one the other would feel empty and out of place. He was the one who wanted to drown into the depths with you or burn with the passion he held for you...And both remain a pleasure to him...

--------------------------------------

A/n; I had no ideas for belphi and was abt to write he slept that it off like he was in a coma xD

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Anyways,

ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪

[dark-frosted-heart]

I Love You, I've Sinned - Azel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

One day during my stay in Tanzanite, I wound up becoming a servant to God—

Emma: Prince Azel…Is it true that you deliver divine punishment to people?

When I asked Prince Azel about this after handing him something he had me fetch for him in town, rather than giving me his usual smile, he scowled. 

Azel: What did you see while out in town?

Emma: There was theft in the market today. The criminal was immediately captured by a passerby—

~~ Flashback ~~

Male onlooker: How dare you…Never did I expect that there would be such a ruckus in God’s own land.

Female onlooker: You will face divine punishment. Our Living God will not forgive you.

~~ Flashback end~~ 

Emma: —It seemed like everyone, the thieves included, feared “divine punishment”.

Azel: Absurd.

Emma: Have you ever threatened people across the country in the past?

Azel: That slander deserves some reparations.

Emma: I can’t say anything at all can I…

Azel: Don’t talk nonsense unless you want to experience divine punishment for yourself.

Emma: Ah, so divine punishment does exist.

Azel: Who knows?

After checking what he had me get for him, Prince Azel placed the jute bag in a corner of the crumbling ruins.

The temple which was supposed to be the Living God’s home, was as shabby as ever.

(Prince Azel’s a two-faced god, so it’d be scary if he actually did deliver divine punishment…)

Azel: Have you ever sinned?

Seems like Prince Azel’s in a good mood if he’s continuing the conversation even though he said not to talk about nonsense.

Emma: Probably…not

Azel: You’re lying.

Emma: Why do you say so?

Azel: Because no humans are without sin.

Emma: …Wouldn’t that mean everyone’s been imprisoned before?

Azel: Has anyone ever told you how empty your head is?

Emma: This is the first.

Azel: Have you never been exposed as an idiot before?

(You have a response for everything…)

Prince Azel leaned against a wall in the shade.

I followed suit and took a sip of water out of my flask.

Azel: Only acts that violate the law aren’t sins. Sins are actions that deserve God’s divine punishment.

Emma: So only God has control?

Azel: Is that so bad?

Emma: …No.

Azel: Simply put, anything you think you’re guilty of is a sin. Surely you’ve also been guilty of something to some extent. Whether it’s telling small lies, hiding things from others, or doing something to hurt someone unintentionally… As long as you’re alive, it’s hard to avoid them.

Emma: Well when you put it that way.

(Then, looking back, I probably have too)

(Sins that I need to apologize for…)

Azel: Confess your sins to God, and through receiving divine punishment, all will be forgiven. Perhaps that’s why people seek God…How laughable.

(Hm?)

Mysterious, starry eyes look at the flask in my hand.

Emma: …I’m not giving it to you?

Azel: Stingy.

Emma: I don’t want to hear that from a greedy god.

Azel [polite]: Ahhh, then at this rate I will dry up and die.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: For a human to treat a god so cruelly…That’s god abuse.

Emma: …

Azel [polite]: God abuse is a felony and the charges cannot be compared to any that has existed to this point—

Emma: OKAY! Then in exchange for the water, please forget that the reparations demanded earlier ever existed.

Azel [polite]: Of course. Thank you very much.

(Can’t believe you put on the god act in times like this…)

When I handed Prince Azel the flask, he started drinking immediately.

(I don’t mind giving him water, but…does Prince Azel care at all?)

Feeling restless somehow, I turned my gaze away from the mysterious god and toward the ruins.

(...)

(If god abuse is a sin, then…)

(There’s one guilty sin I remember)

--

—That night.

When I came to, I found myself in place with half-bloomed roses.

(I’m here again…)

The usual dream in the usual place, but today, there was something unusual.

At the end of the countless paths stood a figure.

That person sat improperly on the oak table where a book usually was, and as I walked down the path, he turned from the large full moon in the sky toward me.

Azel: We ran into each other in a dream? …Give me a break.

Emma: That’s my line. It’s not like I enjoy running into you either.

(I heard that dreams have some deep psychological meaning, but…)

(I wonder if seeing Prince Azel means he’s occupying my mind that much)

(...That being a good or bad thing’s another story)

Azel sat on the table with one knee up and looked down at me cheekily.

It was like the dream world enhanced his mysterious, inhuman appearance.

Emma: …You’re not here to deliver divine punishment, are you?

Azel: If you’re feeling guilty then maybe.

Emma: …

Azel: You are.

Emma: Who knows…

Azel: Sins are forgiven when you confess. It’s easier to let it out than to suffer in distress, that’s just how it is.

Emma: …

Azel: Say it, then. If you seriously ask for forgiveness, then I’ll deliver divine punishment to you. …It’s not a free service though.

(That’s why he’s so oddly assertive)

Emma: Nevermind then.

Azel: No, ask for forgiveness. Or else this dream won’t end.

Emma: That’s a threat!

Azel: Talking back to God like that’s asking for more to be added on to what you owe.

(...If Prince Azel wasn’t a real god, then I could ignore him)

Tanzanite’s living god was a true god, recognized and revered as sacred throughout the continent.

Even if the face he showed me was different from the face he showed the public, I wouldn’t dare to ignore God’s word.

Emma: …Will you listen without getting angry?

Azel: That depends.

Emma: To tell you the truth… The other day, I saw you taking a nap. Even when I got closer, you didn’t wake up, so… …Out of curiosity, I played with your beautiful, silver hair.

Azel: …

Emma: I’m so sorry! But it felt really nice to touch!

Azel: That’s a grave sin.

When I tried to run away, Prince Azel lept off the table and stopped me with a hand on my shoulder before jabbing my cheek.

Emma: Please stop! The jabbing really feels like you’re going to hollow my cheeks out!

Azel: Accept your punishment. I noticed your eccentric behavior though.

Emma: Then why didn’t you wake up?

Azel: I wasn’t in the mood to entertain you.

(A very Prince Azel-like reason)

When he finally released me, I rubbed my cheek.

(Even though I suffered…my heart definitely feels lighter)

(I can’t let him off easy…)

Emma: Have you ever sinned, Prince Azel?

When I asked the question in retaliation, he shrugged in exasperation.

Azel: How could a god sin?

Emma: At it again…

Azel: If there’s no one to punish it, then it’s not a sin. If neither man nor god can punish me, then no one can punish me for my sins.

Emma: …

Azel: Perhaps one day God will commit a mortal sin. When that time comes…I wonder who will sit on the Throne of God and punish me.

Prince Azel’s mutterings melted into the dream space.

(That…doesn’t sound like a joke…)

Emma: Leave it to me. If it needs to be done, I’ll do it.

As if to dispel the mysterious aura around the god, I made a proud declaration.

Emma: I hope your cheeks will be able to stand it.

Azel: That doesn’t sound like a big punishment to me.

Emma: Stay complacent while you can. I have a mean slap.

Azel: …No one’s asking you to slap me.

Emma: If it doesn’t hurt, then it’s not a punishment worthy of being divine punishment.

When I pretended to slap him, Prince Azel smiled condescendingly. 

However, there didn’t appear to be any ill intentions behind the smile.

Azel: If God were to sin, then it would be a sin on a different level from humans. Possibly enough to wipe out an entire country. Punish that sin if you can…Actually you might do that.

Prince Azel looked up at the glittering moon in the dream world.

I still wasn’t sure about the meaning behind that melancholic look on his profile.

[h0nkch0c0late]

Can I request Jordan Li x fem!reader (established relationship) where they found out reader never really celebrated her birthday was basically overrun by her younger sister, the golden child, (like, they’d all go to places where the sister want to go, she’ll get to open reader’s presents, blow out her candle and other stuff) and none of readers parents care nor do any of the relatives. So, reader never got to properly celebrate her birthday and doesn’t like her birthdays anymore thinking no one cares for it, and so when Jordan finds out about this, they, and maybe the rest of the gang, surprise her with her like, sorta dream birthday party

Dude omg yes.

Birthday Girl

Jordan x fem! Reader

SUMMARY: Jordan goes above and beyond for your birthday party when they find out your sister always stole your moment.

WARNINGS: swearing, au where Luke doesn't off himself 🫶🫶

---------------------------------------------------------

Today was your birthday.

You've always hated that day. Once you were old enough to leave your parents, you did. Lucky that you had a chance at Godolkin.

Every year was the same. You got a few "happy birthday!" Shouts from students who knew, but other than that, you mainly stayed inside of your dorm room doing the usual routine.

When Jordan had found this out, however, they knew something had to be done.

Your sister and family may have made you hate your birthday, but Jordan was going to make you love it again.

See, your sister had always been seen as the "golden child" of the family. You assumed it was because she didn't possess any powers that could get out of control (though they had forced their eldest into that life), and because, well, she was the youngest.

She made your life hell, and always specifically your birthday.

YOUR day had become HER day.

Your parents allowed her to open your presents and blow out your candles. She got to eat the first piece of your birthday cake, and hell, she kept most of your presents (the ones that she liked).

And you were always left with nothing. Your family didn't even give a shit.

Because you were the fucked up one. You were the one who had powers, who was different than everybody else, even though it was forced upon you. And they STILL blamed you for it.

So yeah, you hated celebrating your birthday because you felt like no one cared.

But in comes Jordan, being your hero.

Whilst you were distracted by your phone in Jordan's room, they gave the signal to their group of friends to get in their places.

The group being Andre, Cate, Luke, and the newest member, Maria.

The surprise party was being held in Cate's room (due to the fact she INSISTED on it being there), it was decorated with different objects and trinkets related to your favourite obsession, fairy lights and LED lights were mixed together to create the perfect lighting.

They all hid in their places inside of Cate's room, getting ready for the big surprise.

------

"Hey, we should go and bug Cate." Jordan nudged you, trying to keep a straight face as to not ruin the surprise.

You turned your head towards them with a quirked brow, "now? Jordan I really don't wanna walk in on Cate and Luke fucking again."

He laughed lightly, "I promise that won't happen again. They changed their schedule."

You scoffed, "Jordan, it's Cate and Luke. They don't have a schedule."

Jordan just shrugs, pulling you up from her bed and dragging you towards the door, "too bad we're going anyway."

"Alright but I'm gonna keep my eyes closed just in case." You reply, shutting your eyes tight as you allow Jordan to pull you along.

Jordan rolls their eyes, "yeah, okay, you do that. I'll tell you if you can open them or not."

You give her a thumbs up with a grin as you keep your eyes shut, stumbling a little due to the fact you literally cannot see where the fuck you're going.

You feel Jordan stop and you knew you had arrived, and braced yourself for the lewd noises that would be heard from the other side of the door.

You were confused when you were met with silence, and the sound of Jordan opening the door without knocking.

"Jordan? What's goin-"

You were cut off by an eruption of voices yelling "SURPRISE!" in your direction inside of the room.

You opened your eyes to see what it was about, and your eyes widened as you looked around the room, there were a bunch of birthday balloons and banners, as well as posters and trinkets of your current obsession all over the room.

"Holy. Fucking. SHIT BALLS!" you yelled in shock, running into the room as your friends watched you.

You quickly turned to them, "None of you are gonna steal my presents, right?" You questioned, pointing your finger at them.

They all looked at each other in confusion before turning back to you and shaking their heads,

"Of course not. Why the hell would we do that?" Andre asked as if it were a dumb question.

You sighed and shrugged it off, "Never mind. Dumb question, don't mind me."

Finally, after more analysis of the room, you turned to your partner, a giant grin on your face.

Tears threatened to spill, happy tears, of course, but still tears.

"Did you plan all this?" Your voice cracking slightly.

Jordan nodded, "I knew you didn't really like your birthday anymore, but I thought that if I made it extra special-"

You cut her off by planting a kiss on her lips and hugging her tightly, "it's perfect, babe. Thank you." You replied softly.

"Is it? Because you sound like you're about to cry, and I'm really hoping you're not upset by it.." Jordan responded nervously, wrapping their arms around your waist.

You shook your head with a small laugh, "I'm about to cry because I'm happy, Jordan. No other reason."

"Oh," they let out a relieved chuckle, "Okay, yeah, that's good."

You gave her another peck on the lips, "Now let's get this party started, yeah?"

Jordan smirked, "After you, M'lady."

---------------------------------------------------------

God yall are really making me crank out a lot of Jordan content 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I mean I don't blame you because I also love them so much but please request more characters I don't wanna go into writing burnout 🫂🫂🫂🫂

[belovedmusings]

Sugar-coated, lies unfolded.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part nine of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he recently just found out that you have feelings for his bandmate, Suguru, and that Suguru reciprocates. He's allowing you to explore that with Suguru...but could you actually do that to him? Sleep with another man?

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Choso is sweet and loyal, Suguru is charming and sexy, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, nipple play (male receiving), oral sex (fem receiving), bathroom sex, love bites, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, handjob

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Candy (Doja Cat), I Want It All (Cameron Grey), High Enough (K.Flay, RAC)

A/N: I think satan himself came over me when i wrote this chapter so...enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

The next morning had gone completely normally. You had woken up with Choso, shared your usual morning kiss, then got ready for the day beside him. You’d had breakfast, your normal conversations, and when he had to go to meet with the band, you had kissed him goodbye and exchanged your ‘I love you’s with him.

It’s when you’re going about your normal day just after you’ve had lunch that you receive a phone call.

Suguru. 

He’s never called you before. Choso should be with him–did something happen?

Hurriedly, you accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Suguru’s buttery voice comes through the speaker casually, and it disarms you from any immediate threats.

“Hey,” You reply, sitting back. “Is everything okay?”

“What, I can’t just call you?” Suguru chuckles on the other end, the sound rattling around inside of you like a marble in a glass jar. You hear a sigh. “Well, I did call you for a reason.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“He told me about everything,” Suguru says, and your suspicions are confirmed. “He told me about that dream you had of me–which we’ll come back to–then the conversation you had afterwards. You told him all about us, it seems.”

You draw in a breath. “Yes, I-I did…”

“And he told me he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. He felt a little uncomfortable, but then because it’s me, he said it didn’t bother him. Apparently the two of us showing restraint is what let him come to the conclusion to trust us…and let us explore things together.”

You’re worrying your lip so hard between your teeth as you listen that a layer of skin is peeling off. “Yeah…he…he did say that.”

“So…he’s given us his permission,” Suguru states slowly. “On his conditions, of course.”

You know what Suguru is getting at, but there’s just something inside of you reluctant to lean into it. Maybe it’s Choso’s reaction, his patience and unconditional love, or the way the two of you made love the night before. But guilt is killing you. 

“I…” You begin, “Suguru…I don’t think I can do it.”

A beat. Then, a sigh. “...it’s because you feel like you’re taking advantage of him, right?”

“Well, yes…it just doesn’t feel right. He said we could, but what kind of loving girlfriend sleeps with her boyfriend’s bandmate?”

“I understand,” replies Suguru, “I feel the same. It’s like exploiting his kindness, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, exactly…”

“So, we won’t, then.”

It sounds like a question, even though it’s a statement. “We shouldn’t.”

An unanswer. The two of you are pushing and pulling again.

“Hey, my smoke break is almost over, so I have to go back in. I’ll text you later.”

A part of you is disappointed when he says it. You don’t want to say goodbye yet. You like having him there on the phone.

“Okay,” You respond softly.

“Okay.” 

The call ends, and you put your head in your hands.

What on Earth is your life?

_

Nothing happens for the next four weeks. You don’t see him at all, but he does make it a point to call and text you consistently. Despite not acting on your desires, you grow closer with Suguru over text and phone calls, and if nothing else, he becomes a good friend of yours. 

You and Choso have no issues, and life continues on. You don’t sleep with Suguru, you force yourself not to think of him in any sort of sexual way, and you make peace with it.

Everything is fine up until the release party for the album they had been working on, and recently just completed.

You got done up in makeup, styled your hair, put on a dress suited for the occasion, and went with Choso to Suguru’s place where he’s holding it.

On the way there, you tell yourself nothing will happen. You haven’t reached out to him, asking to see him, you haven’t had another dream, and your thoughts of him have remained innocent. You have your mind in order.

All of that goes to hell immediately when you lay your gaze on Suguru, the moment after you set foot in the house.

He’s there in black jeans and an equally black tank-top, sinfully tight and leaving nothing to the imagination. It’s like he wore that just to remind you of everything that you’ve been lusting after; his bulging muscles, the piercings adorning the centers of his two pecs, the tattoos undulating over his pale skin…and that’s just his body. His face…god, his face.

His inky midnight hair falls in thick tresses down his shoulders, framing a face painters would vy for. Piercings and thick liner rimming his eyes, he’s the closest thing to a rock god you have ever seen.

“Hey,” He greets you, and you think maybe he’s already said ‘hello’ to Choso but you aren’t sure. You muster up a smile, trying your best to salvage your resolve.

“Hi.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment as Choso moves in to set his guitar up with the rest of the band’s cozy set-up in Suguru’s spacious living room.

“You look breathtaking,” He tells you, a softness in his eyes that only serves to complicate you. 

“So do you,” You say, gesturing to him. He just shrugs, and it seems like his golden gaze pierces through you. You both know what you decided on, but right now the air between you is electric.

All it takes is a glance at the opposite corner of the living room to see Choso’s eyes on you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. You flit your gaze back to Suguru for a second, apologetic, before making your way into the house.

After that, it’s sweet, sweet torture. 

You feel like you’re on high alert the entire soundcheck. You participate as well as you can in assisting with providing the audience perspective, but you’re so focused on acting normal that you can barely remember anything. 

The same goes for the actual release performance. You’d greeted all of Choso’s brothers when they’d arrived, then found your seat at the front of the small folding-chair arrangement, and then fought your way through normal reactions to each song.

You’d heard them all before, as Choso had both played them for you on his phone and practiced them with his guitar, but watching them all put together live with mood lighting, the band all dressed-up…it’s electric.

Between Choso and Suguru, your eyes are feasting. Two gorgeous men, performing, letting their lined gazes gravitate towards you, twin spotlights.

When the set finishes, the after party starts, and you stand up, Choso welcoming you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss as Larue begins to spin the first round of music. 

“You did amazing,” You tell your boyfriend, smiling up at him. “This album is gonna be so successful.”

He smiles down at you, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips. “You’ve supported me this whole time. I’m so grateful to you.”

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, and you sigh appreciatively. His chocolate locks pulled up into his signature spiky buns, eyes smoked out with purple and lined with unique markings that touch his nose bridge tattoo, the gentle tenderness in his stare…you just adore him.

“You’re precious to me,” You tell him, speaking from the heart, and you can see the light inside of him brighten a bit.

“I love you.”

He gets your heart to pound even now. “I love you too.”

“Choso!”

The sound of his youngest brother’s voice calling out to him pulls you two out of your little bubble, and you turn to see Yuji walking towards you, his other brothers in tow. 

“That was awesome, man!” Yuji says, clapping him on the back. “You gotta introduce us to the band!”

Choso looks at you, unsure to leave you alone at a party full of strangers. You know how important his brothers are to him, so you simply shake your head with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine, baby.”

He gives you a thankful grin, kissing your cheek before leading the mob of his brothers off to Larue first since he’s the closest.

Bass heavy music fills the mood-lit space of his living room, music executives, other artists, models, whoever Suguru and the rest of the band know fill it with their intoxicated, sweaty bodies. You move to the bar of Suguru’s kitchen, overlooking the living room, deciding to fix yourself a drink to pass the time.

You’ve drunk exactly half of your solo cup when it happens.

Your eyes are dusting over the crowd uninterestedly until they catch on a familiar frame.

Suguru. He’s talking with a woman, a slender, tall figure that must be a model he knows somehow. His hand is on the wall beside her, leaning over her, a loose grin on her flawless face–and immediately an unbridled jealousy wells up inside of you without your permission.

As soon as the sharp negativity registers, Suguru chooses that exact moment to find your gaze with his own. The charming smile he had on his face fades, and you don’t know why, but you feel enraged.

It’s a muddy, red feeling, completely unfounded, shame tinging it dark. But it’s yours, and the longer you stare at him the heavier it feels.

Unable to look at him with another woman any longer, you turn on your heel and head straight for the only place you know you can be alone in this big house–the bathroom.

You’ve just pushed the door open to the empty room when you hear him call to you.

You whirl around, and that’s when he backs you in, shutting the door behind you. The only light in the small room is reflecting from the frosted window at the other end, streetlight outside and the Moon casting a dim glow.

“You’re upset,” Suguru says, hand on your cheek. You avert your eyes, pushing his hand off of you.

“You’re not mine, I have no right to be,” it comes out cold and uneven. “Go back, she’s probably wondering where you went.”

“Forget her, I don’t want her,” He forces your gaze back to him. “I want you.”

The dense air is ripe with stillness. You can’t even hear the loud music outside anymore. Your eyes are locked with Suguru’s, and you know you’re screwed.

He pulls you in and ducks down, beginning to leave feverish kisses over your neck.

“I want you so fucking much,” He breathes, heat fanning over your skin and making you shiver. He looks up at you and leans in real close, the tips of your noses touching. “It’s taking everything in my power not to kiss you right now.”

Involuntarily, your eyes flit down to his lips, and he exhales shakily, closing his eyes and brushing them faintly against yours. You turn your face away.

“We can’t.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and tightens his hold on you, dragging his teeth over the skin just under your ear. 

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” He replies, “But I can’t do it, I can’t resist you knowing that I can have you like this…”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Your resolve is wavering.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, “He knows, too. Just let yourself have this. Let me do this.”

You swallow hard, a sigh leaving your lips as he trails wet kisses down to your collarbone. 

“Let me,” He says, “You want this. You want me.”

You lean back against the counter, hands on the edge as he keeps going further down, this time undeterred by your dress and its neckline.

His lips find the top of your breast, and he looks up at you.

“Tell me to stop.”

Those words can’t even begin to take form on your tongue.

This time, he repeats it in a whisper. “Tell me to stop.”

Fuck it. You can’t stand this anymore.

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

He pushes the top of your dress unimportantly out of the way, exposing the rest of the soft flesh of your chest. 

He eyes your breasts with desire before looking up at you, making sure you’re watching him before parting his lips and swiping his tongue out, letting the bead of his piercing catch on your stiff peak. 

You gasp, and his lips turn up at the corners. Then he does it again. His thumb rubs the one not getting worked by his mouth, and you watch as he flutters his tongue over the bud, closing his lips around it and sucking.

“Ah,” You moan, head falling back. “Suguru…”

“Yes,” He breathes, “I’ve waited so long to hear that, fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You bite your lip as he praises you, arching your back as he continues to devour you. It’s a sinful scene, something so hazy you feel like if you move a certain way you’ll wake from a dream. The little shocks of pleasure undulating down from your peaks start to build heat in your core, wetness pooling in the lace underneath the skirt of your dress.

The bumping of the music outside of the bathroom only adds to the heavy atmosphere, so loud it vibrates the counter behind you, and you have to actually take a moment to realize that Suguru’s lips have started traveling further down your body. Right over the fabric of your dress, he kisses a line as he gets to his knees, leveling himself with your thighs. He looks up at you with those pretty, golden eyes, a translucent midnight in the dim lighting of the moon, rimmed with eyeliner, and he presses a peck to your knee, palms caressing the skin at the hem of your dress.

You can only watch him do it, watch him start littering your skin with kisses, taking your left leg and hiking it over his shoulder to get further up your thighs.

Each brush of his metal-adorned lips has you moving closer to insanity. Little flowers of pleasure bloom every time he sucks a mark and pulls away, the skin tenderized and wet with saliva. The feeling of his hot mouth getting closer and closer to the spot that hungers the most for him intensifies, and soon enough, he pushes your dress up far enough to get it around your hips and out of his way. Panties on display, he locks eyes with you and rubs the skin of your inner thigh slowly, pressing his lips to the dip right beside your apex. You tense, and he grins, flicking his tongue out to run it over the skin there. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He murmurs, eyes flitting down, then up again. “Right here is where I want to be…”

You swear your heart may give out. You’ve fantasized so much about this moment, and now that it’s happening, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re sure any second you’re going to combust. 

“I wish you could see your face,” He grins, looking at you with an amused smile. “You want it bad…”

Taking a breath, you try to get a grip to respond. The best you can manage is, “I’m not the only one.”

He chuckles low in his throat, syrupy and rich, and then parts his lips to drag his tongue over the front of your panties.

“Ah!” You gasp, the unexpected movement catching you by surprise. All Suguru does is do it again, this time drawing circles into the fabric with the stud in his tongue, your clothed clit throbbing in delight.

He closes his lips around it, sucking before tilting his head down, rubbing the tip of his nose against the bud.

You shiver, a hand threading into his hair. “Suguru…”

“Keep making those noises for me,” He breathes, kissing the front of your panties a few times, then swirling his tongue around your clothed pearl again. The added friction of the fabric heightens your pleasure, and you feel it getting soaked, a combination of your arousal and his spit. The thought alone furthers your desire.

He adds more pressure on his next lick, and it has you twitching, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He repeats the movement over and over and over again until your breath is hitched and uneven, little moans tumbling freely from your voice.

“Suguru,” You finally warn, “I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum,” He replies, “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

“Ah!” You cry out, the pet name hitting your senses right in their vital points, orgasm sweeping through you like a vengeful spirit claiming its latest victim. He helps you ride it out, keeping his tongue on you until your body begins to relax.

“You’re gorgeous when you cum,” He compliments breathlessly, and you huff in embarrassment. 

“Am I really?”

“Yeah,” He nods, gazing at you with blown pupils. “I want to see it again.”

Faster than you can comprehend, he’s hooking your sopping panties out of the way, taking your bare cunt into his mouth.

The sensitivity overwhelms you and you gasp, biting your lip. “Suguru…I-I already came…”

“You can do it again,” He replies, flicking his tongue over the swollen bud at the top of your folds. “Come on, just focus on the feeling…”

It’s a dull yet sharp sort of pain, a kind you discover you like, and you moan as he relentlessly pursues your pleasure, squirming in the vice grip he has on your hips, no doubt destined to bruise. The thought of the shape of his hands branded into your skin tomorrow, ingrained in a phantom ache…it makes your core pulse with need.

He groans, dragging his right hand down your leg, the cool, hard sensation of his rings making you suck your lip between your teeth. 

Then, you feel two thick, rough fingers entering you, jewelry and all.

“Oh god,” it comes out desperate and sort of broken, because Suguru is fingering you now, using the beautiful hand he strokes his bass guitar with, and for fuck’s sake he really knows how to use them.

He’s folded the three fingers he’s not using to aim better with the two inside, curling them upwards to prod at the magic spot within you as he sucks hard on your clit.

Your head falls back and you suppress what would have been a pornstar-worthy cry, yet your effort is wasted when on the next thrust of his digits, the sound of your ecstasy is forced out of you as he wriggles his fingers slightly on your g-spot.

“Suguru!”

“Beautiful,” He breathes against your folds, eyes still trained on you as if he was a spectator beholding an art exhibit. 

When he says it, it clatters around inside of you like a china plate shattering on a kitchen floor. He must know what it does to you, because he dives right back in, eating you out like his life depends on it, complete with noises generated at the back of his throat like a starved man finally allowed food.

All too soon, as he’d predicted, your second orgasm approaches. It fades in like the start of your favorite Curse Manipulator song, building, building, building—

Something that has never happened before happens.

You feel this release of pressure, an overwhelming rush of heat, the sound of your own wanton scream sounding far away as you soak Suguru’s fingers and chin. He made you squirt. For the first time in your life.

You can barely remember where you are by the time he stands up, licking your juices off of his rings and wrapping his arm back around your waist to get close to you.

Like this, you feel the press of his hard cock straining against his jeans on your thigh and you shiver, meeting his eyes. 

“Did you like that?” He asks in a sort of whisper, and you nod mindlessly, leaning forward to kiss him.

Then you remember yourself and the rules, and pull away. He makes a disappointed noise and cups your face with his left hand.

“I wish you could taste yourself on my tongue,” He whispers, touching his nose to yours. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Your eyes meet his, and though you just came twice, you still feel a raging fire inside of you for him. 

You don’t answer verbally; you just tilt your head to the side and lay a kiss on his cheek. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and you get more bold, kissing a line all the way down his neck. Your hands travel from his shoulders down his chest, over the taut fabric of his black tank top, ghosting over the piercings on each of his pecs on their way down.

You make it to the edge of his shirt and you suddenly become all-too-aware of the fact that you get to touch him. You get to do whatever the fuck you want to him, after all of these months of dreaming about it, he’s finally putty in your hands.

Like a kid in a candy store, your lips latch onto his neck as you push his shirt up, only pulling back to help him take it off and toss it unimportantly to the floor. Your eyes feast on his bare, muscular torso, pale skin seeming to glow in the lavender moonlight. The tattoos on his skin decorate him beautifully, and your vision catches on the twin silver barbels in each of his nipples, mouth salivating. It only worsens when you see the bulge in his black jeans, fiending for release. 

How is he this gorgeous?

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not gonna obey the rules,” He warns softly, hands on your waist, and you meet his eyes, dangerously close to wanting to break them yourself. 

“You’re just…” You trail off, laying a hand on his chest and running it down slowly, watching his breath hitch. “God you’re just…”

He smiles slightly, amused, and you just shake your head and lean forward, mouth landing on his collarbone.

Your lips busy sucking marks into his chest, your hands need something new to touch, so you find the buckle of his belt, starting to tug on it.

You can feel the uptick in his heart rate because it’s beating right beneath your kiss, and the knowledge that you’re affecting him so much goes straight to your head.

His hands have moved up to your breasts, kneading them gently as you work his pants open, satisfaction filling you the second you feel the button release.

In search of what you yearn for, you drag the zipper down and dip your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, at last coming into contact with the smooth, hard heat of his cock. He gasps, breath fluttering, and the moment you wrap your hand around it and pull it free from the confines of his clothing, he groans. It’s music to your ears.

The touches he’s been giving to you intensify as you begin to stroke him, his shaft thick and lengthy in your grasp. 

Except for the small amount of precum you spread down his length, there’s nothing to help the glide, but he remedies that by canting his hips forward and raising your knee, cock bumping against your soaked mound. You jolt, thinking he means to slip inside, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t have condoms,” He murmurs, “But you can still get me wet.”

A slight tinge of disappointment fills you—there won’t be that final push tonight, but you’re here and you’re so turned on you can’t think straight, so you do as he says and rub his tip against your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” He breathes out, head falling back. He inhales sharply, starting to rock his hips to rut against you. “Fuck, you feel so soft…”

Your composure utterly gives out beneath you and you fall forward, letting your forehead rest against his chest as he continues fucking against your clit. It’s over-sensitive and puffy, but god damn is it determined to keep up?

Unable to help yourself, you drag your teeth over one of his tattoos, and he grunts, hand winding behind your waist to pull you closer. Spurred on and suddenly level with his pec, you part your lips and allow your tongue to swipe over the pierced nipple beneath it, and he shudders.

“Fuck, baby.”

If he keeps calling you that, you’re going to need to be admitted. 

Of course, it only impassions you, and your strokes quicken, hand tightening every time you get to the tip and loosening on the way down. 

“Yes,” He sighs out, taking your face in his hand and guiding it up. He looks at you in the eyes for a second, then moves in, planting a kiss left of your mouth. Your eyes close, and he keeps going, giving you desperate pecks as he keeps fucking your hand, getting himself sloppy with your essence, precum mixing in with it. 

His mouth finds your ear and he bites at the shell, low groans sending vibrations down your spine. 

“I wanna fuck you,” He sounds winded in a way you’ve never heard before, strained, and it’s so fucking sexy. “I wanna be inside of you so badly…I wanna feel every detail.”

“Oh god,” You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, feeling lightheaded.

“If I could, I’d grab you and turn you around,” He tells you, “I’d make you take it all until you’re stuffed with my cum.”

Jesus Christ, that’s the dirtiest thing anyone has ever said to you. Your body trembles involuntarily, clenching on nothing, and you pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips. All you can do now is hold his cock down while he ruts against you, friction mutually beneficial, completely losing your mind. 

“Would you like that?” He asks, voice sultry like brown sugar, sweet and bad for you. 

Still, you nod, long gone, clutching onto him for dear life. “Yes…”

“Yes? Yes, who?” He asks, a dangerous little tinge in his voice, “Who is it that you want to get fucked by right now?”

Fuck, “You…”

His thrusts are turning erratic and you can feel him getting close, muscles tensing up, urgency increasing.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a soft demand.

Oh god, “Suguru.”

“That’s right,” He murmurs, hissing as he teeters over the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby…”

As if commanded by him, your body seizes up and your third orgasm of the night hits you, nails digging into his shoulder. That’s all it takes for him to follow—he seethes air through his teeth, voice catching in a guttural grunt, and you feel hot semen spilling onto the tender flesh of your mound, staining the fabric of your ruined panties. 

“God,” He breathes, trying to calm down, eyes unfocused. 

They land on your face, and all he does is look at you for a moment before leaning in, kissing your forehead. 

“I won’t see anyone else,” He murmurs to you, firm and breathless.

You shake your head automatically. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.”

Such a violent tenderness erupts inside of you, endorphins and oxytocin swirling around like a hurricane, making a mess of your psyche. He really doesn’t want anyone but you, and that knowledge is sharp like a knife. Despite the danger of it, you don’t want to leave.

If Suguru’s desire for you is destined to swallow you whole, you are royally fucked.

__

a/n: the way my fingers flew writing this

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

Taglist (comment here or my masterlist if you want to be added): @jaegerstan222 , @cosmicstarlatte , @dabisdolly , @moonriseoverkyoto , @propheticfire , @bontensbabygirl , @crlyhairedwxtch , @alittlebirdahgaselx , @okkovtsu , @notbellasstuff , @uchihabbynic , @polaroidnana , @childofilluvatar , @shadowfoxy , @jordan-network , @dreamtravelersade , @unmatchxd , @lucyrocks86 , @spineyy , @k3lbade , @xxbuckpoppi , @naughtygobbo , @slammynics , @roseambers , @luvingyouwasreallyhard , @hinachaaan , @redladyrae-blog , @spiteless-xo , @slutforaz , @bellaabee082 , @thedorklingqueen , @delayedrage , @poopwons , @pandisastergod , @username23345 , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @forest-haven , @midnaamethyste , @bihanspookies , @mysteriouskiller1 , @liyahthings , @makingtimemine , @tr330 , @captainstarnoir , @nana-lover05 , @vvarkiki , @missmuffinr , @thedamsnackbar07 , @nah-chenford-win

[sitp-recs]

Hi hello how are you!! I feel like I’d seen a competence kink list you did some time ago, but I can’t seem to find it on your masterlists :( I’m wondering if maybe it’s lost or I’m imagining things lol?

And if not, I would be sooo grateful if you or your followers had any recs for me :) Thank you so much, love your blog!

Hi anon! I did this list with talented Harry (beyond his job) but here are some classic competence kink recs:

Competent Draco:

The Slytherin Urn by @icmezzo (E, 4k)

Nothing turns Harry on quite like redemption.

The Study of Change by p1013 (M, 4k)

Harry's going to hell. He's going to hell immediately. Even with all of the good he's done in his life, he's never going to overcome the impure thoughts racing through his head at the sight of Draco Malfoy looking like an academic wet dream in a room full of barely legal adults.

A Song, Incomplete by RurouniHime (E, 11k)

Draco’s photograph took up the entire top half of the Prophet’s front page. Below the photo: DRACO MALFOY DEFENDS SON OF FORMER LOVER. As if that were breaking news.

Countdown by dysonrules (M, 14k)

When the Wizarding world is plagued by random outbreaks of Dark Magic, the Ministry assigns Curse-Breakers to assist Auror teams on their missions. Harry shouldn't be surprised when Draco Malfoy is assigned to his team, but is Malfoy a Curse-Breaker, or a curse-bringer?

A Year in Training by Omi_Ohmy (M, 25k)

Harry is finally living his dream and training as an Auror, but nothing seems to be going right: he’s just so angry all the time. And Draco Malfoy’s presence on the programme really isn’t helping with that, either.

measures of our days and nights by @flimsi (E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (E, 47k)

The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.

Take the Air by dysonrules (M, 51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

The Darkness Before the Dawn by Ren (E, 55k)

A mysterious creature is loose in London, stalking and killing people. Auror Harry Potter requests the help of a liaison from the Beast Division and gets saddled with Draco Malfoy. Will they be able to stop the creature before it claims more lives?

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 77k)

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all.

Reparations by Saras_Girl (E, 87k) - both

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

Balance, Imperfect by bixgirl1 (E, 91k) - both

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 149k) - both

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Competent Harry:

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

Safe As Houses by @xanthippe74 (T, 24k)

After five years abroad, Harry’s thrilled to be home and working at the most prestigious ward-building firm in Britain. But everything gets turned upside down when he's assigned to work for Draco Malfoy—who somehow grew up to be just the sort of sexy bastard Harry goes for.

The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (E, 45k)

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Timecode by Rasborealis (M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k) - both

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[cecilxa]

if you'll have me

summary: lyney would share his deepest secrets with you, if only you'd ask

contents: ooc probably (do i care? no. do i love men being down bad? yes.), pining!lyney (he basically is too in love), fluff, gn!reader, pre-relationship

cw: a tiny allusion to violence

recommend listening to: ur so pretty by wasia project

a/n: hehe have some lyney before i disappear again

Being a magician, Lyney is certainly no fool to distractions or tricks. What he can be fooled by, however, is something that he certainly cannot control–not that he’d want to anyway. 

He can’t help it if he dreams of your hands, how he’d be able to cradle them in his own and be able to gaze into your eyes with too much adoration for him to contain, and he’d be able to spill all sorts of ‘I love yous’ that fall so easily from his lips, it would be like he’d been born to utter them. 

He can’t help it if he dedicates all the nights staring out above the city and up into the sky to you–and how he’d count all the stars in the night if it’d make you happy, no matter how long it’d take. 

He can’t help it if, when you talk to him, he goes red, trying to contain the ever-present grin that somehow still leaks out at the sides, making his mouth lopsided. It’s not like he cares. Seeing you is always worth it. 

Lyney’s feelings find themselves overflowing with devotion, too much for him to properly handle, but it feels too good for him to let go.

It’s nearly every day when he thinks about him confessing his utter love for the way you say his name, for the way you maintain eye contact, for the way you smile so lovely at him, for the way he’d get down on one knee and say that his heart lies in your hands, and even if you plucked it apart, piece by piece, he’d be grateful that you were the one to be there until its last breath. 

People say there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but Lyney proclaims that he’s experienced it firsthand, because ever since you’ve met, he’s only been able to think of cooking for two, only been able to think of gifts that, conspicuously or not, loudly cry for your attention, not unlike himself. 

He flirts, he charms, he blushes, and yet he can never seem to come out with the very words that open the locked doors that guard your heart. 

He notices your reactions, whenever you invite him out, when you peer with interest at seeing a certain item on sale, and when your eyes light up when he surprises you with a goofy grin, gifting you that same certain item (plus a couple more), because no matter how much, he somehow has that little bit of change that’s always there. 

Always there. He likes to think that his love is always there. There when you cry, and there when you laugh, and there when you’re having an afternoon drink with him, and there when he gazes at you when you’re talking about something that you like and when he thinks that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. Even though you don’t truly know how far his love goes. 

In fact, you’ve only seen Lyney upset once in your life. 

The weather in Fontaine is unpredictable–rainy one moment and then sunny the next–and it just had to be the one day you forgot bring an umbrella. You had arrived at the Café Lucerne sopping wet, drenched to the bone with moisture that made you feel all icky and cold. Lyney was seated at one of the tables, and you headed towards him, only for his eyes to widen. He questioned you sharply, asking how you were, why did you go in the rain, why did you not bring an umbrella, why did you come and not seek shelter?! 

What if you got sick?!

His voice, usually so cheerful and amiable, now panicked and distressed. Not even waiting for an answer, his hand frantically grabbed yours, rushing the both of you to his abode, where you were forced to take a shower and take some spare clothes. 

Lyney then questioned you again–only once you were safe and with a hot drink, of course–and when you replied that you wanted to see him, his heart strained and his eyes softened. 

Oh, what you do to this magician! Are you trying to melt him with your words?! 

You looked at him, and a very pink blush crept up onto his cheeks, leaving a burning sensation. How he managed to say anything, he still doesn’t know to this day. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking, because his voice came out breathy and uncertain.

“You scared me. I don’t want you to get sick; it pains me to see you in pain.”

His voice was quiet for once and more genuine than you’d ever heard before. 

You smiled at him in response, and he thinks that everything is okay. 

Ever since that day, Lyney’s sheltered a dream.

One day, he’ll lie with you under the sheets, and he’ll whisper the things he vows to do to make you happy. And when he whispers each and every thing he vows to do, he’ll kiss your shoulder, and then your cheek, and then your hands–twice for good measure–and then your lips, and he’ll shudder so softly because the feeling of your tender lips against his erupts mini-fireworks in his stomach. 

And then when you fall asleep, he’ll let his eyes scan the very person he’s willing to do anything for, and he’ll see the stars in your veins, and he’ll say to you in your sleep that even the number of stars in the sky can’t compare to the number of things he can love about you. 

Lyney may be a magician, but there's no tricks or misdirection in how pure his feelings are, much like a singular white dove.

a/n: tell me if this is getting too repetitive i somehow always do this format without even thinking 😰 i’m a sucker for this style though 😻 likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated !! 🩷🩷

[fen-luciel]

The witches' covenant part 2

Part 1 here

Warnings:

Smut/Manipulation/coven/dubious consent

Witch reader X Sith Qimir

It would have been a lie to say I wasn't anxious.

This time was different, I was the one reaching out to him, not waiting silently.

When I lay down that evening my heart was in my throat. I closed my eyes and focused on my connection with the thread. The darkness surrounded me as it had all the other times, but I forced myself to look around.

It felt like I was walking through a void, yet I was sure I was moving. I wanted to call out to that presence that tormented me, but I didn't even know its name, or if it had one at all.

With a trembling voice, I gathered some courage and shouted into the darkness "Hey, are you there?"

I could sense it far away. More like the thread connected us but didn’t call to him, it remained dormant.

Perhaps he needed to stay asleep for me to reach him?

Was it possible that I wasn’t capable of making him feel my presence?

Was he so far from me?

And what kind of power did this being possess to contact me so easily?

I let it go for that night.

The next morning, I woke up with a sense of disappointment in my body. I didn’t know if I had failed or if something else was preventing me from reaching him, and in any case, why was I doing all of this?

Just for... that pleasure?

It was embarrassing to think about it. Deep down, I was curious about who was on the other side, but it was undeniable that what I wanted most was that touch on my skin.

One taste had been enough to make me addicted... I needed it.

It was only later that afternoon, after the usual lessons, that I "casually" approached my mother, who was busy reading one of our ancient bound tomes. Sitting at the round wooden table, I sat next to her with a book, though it was a pathetic excuse to be there.

"These nights I haven't been sleeping very well" I began, slowly flipping through the pages. I noticed the look she gave me accompanied by a knowing smile "Did something happen?"

I struggled to speak, I didn't even know where to start really.

"I'm having nightmares" I lied... or maybe not.

She seemed confused. "I dream of... something I've never seen. I don't understand how that's possible" I put the book down on the table, abandoning the pretense of reading, and she mirrored my gesture turning her full attention to me.

"I don't know what's happening. It's..." I sighed "I'm scared, but because I don't know what it is" I had difficulty explaining without giving an actual description of what was happening.

There was a moment of silence before she took my hands in hers "Honey, I'm your mother. My job is to guide you until you're ready. But I need you to tell me what's going on" we looked into each other's eyes. "Someone is trying to contact me. And I'm scared. Because he don't show himself or let me touch him..." I blushed, thinking that instead, I had been touched too much "...yet he... seems to know exactly what to do. As if he knows me" I prayed that my words weren't too revealing.

I swore I saw a flash in her eyes, a flicker of understanding, and my heart skipped a beat. She was about to tell me something, I was sure of it—

"Honey, the bond we share with the thread is a gift we have been granted. We are blessed with this power, and as such, we have obligations to it" I frowned "You, being my daughter, have an even greater burden on your shoulders. Has this bond ever hurt you?" I shook my head "Then trust the blessing you’ve been given. I taught you this many years ago. Do you remember the first lesson?"

I replied with an uncertain voice "The thread has two ends. On one side, you take. On the other, you give." She smiled at me.

"Exactly. Don’t forget it." I opened my mouth to respond, but she released my hands and stood up "Now I must go, but remember your privileges. And what you must do in return." She left before I could stop her.

I remained sitting there, staring into the void, the unpleasant sensation that someone was watching me.

Days passed without any signs.

I continued my routine, though I was distracted and nervous.

One particularly tough afternoon, I got hurt.

I lost my focus just in time to slip on the rain-soaked ground, falling to the ground with a sharp sound that filled the air before I gasped for breath, a cry of pain escaping my lungs.

"What on earth is going through your head?!" Koril snapped in front of me, furious "You should be ashamed of yourself, you're not even trying, and this?!" she pointed to the ground around me "Get that ankle bandaged. You’ll heal without the help of the thread. As punishment for your carelessness" I remained silent, taking the scolding, knowing that nothing I could say would help.

I limped my way to the infirmary. They wanted to give me a cane to help, but it was already humiliating enough as it was, so I decided to suffer in silence. I ate dinner without even looking my mother in the eyes and rushed to my room where I could finally rest.

I don’t know if I fell asleep first or if simply closing my eyes was enough to resonate with the thread.

I felt a light breeze on my skin, a low, continuous sound that I couldn’t quite identify.

I opened my eyes and jolted.

I didn’t understand what place this was. It was an octagonal room, the ceiling was extremely high, and each wall was made of a smooth, black material. There were no windows to illuminate the space, but decorations along the edges, glowing a brilliant red, allowed me to see. It seemed more like a liquid was flowing through these lines carved into the smooth stone.

As I looked around, confused, the only visible door opened, and I finally saw him.

Or at least, I understood I was seeing him.

I could feel him, I recognized him in the cold he carried with him. I swore that the sensation I felt a few days earlier with my mother was the same. A human figure with a helmet covering his face was slowly approaching, his arms the only parts uncovered by the long black robe.

"Poor creature. So distracted lately. What’s occupying your thoughts?" the voice was hoarse and slow, distorted, I think by the helmet, though I had never heard such a deep tone before.

"A-are you… the person with whom…" the words died in my throat, not knowing what to say, or rather, not having the courage to say it.

"The one with whom you shared a bond? Yes." The door closed behind him as he approached with measured steps. I curled my toes in my shoes to stop myself from backing away. Technically, he had never hurt me, but his presence was suffocating. I couldn’t see his eyes or what kind of face was hidden beneath that helmet, yet it felt like two spotlights were trained on me.

"I tried to call you, but..." he stopped a couple of steps away from me, i could have reached out and touched him from here, but the fear that had been lying dormant in the pit of my stomach now almost took my breath away.

"I felt it. But I was busy. I didn’t think it would take so little to make you so needy" I could only grimace in shame as I looked away under the pressure "I didn’t—I was just curious and—" I began to stammer, clenching my hands into fists, but he abruptly interrupted me with a firm voice.

"Look at me." An order so clear that I instinctively turned back. I tried to figure out where exactly his eyes would be to feel less foolish. I saw a slight slit where I assumed what I was looking for was, and I focused on that.

"There’s nothing to be ashamed of. This isn’t your fault" I exhaled deeply through clenched lips. The reassurance I felt made me uncomfortable, i didn’t even know who he was or what he really wanted from me. I couldn’t understand how he could have this influence.

"I know what you’re thinking. But everything will be fine. I am your destiny..." he pronounced my name with such confidence that I flinched imperceptibly.

He knew my name.

He knew me.

He knew who I was.

But I was sure I had never seen him before, no one in the congregation had… that physique or that aura.

He let out a light puff, as if chuckling at something, his head casually tilted to one side "Do you want to touch me? Isn’t that why you’re here, right?" He extended an arm in front of him, his hand relaxed, palm up as if offering it to me. "Don’t be afraid"

I looked at that hand with a reverence that took my breath away.

I had so many questions, I didn’t even know how many of them actually made sense. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again, but in a situation like this, perhaps the most sensible thing would have been to run away… but I… I trusted him.

"Why do you know my name? And what do you mean by my destiny?" I managed to ask with difficulty, looking from his palm to his helmet, my hands itching.

He sighed.

"We could have avoided this discomfort if only your mother had fulfilled her duty. I should have imagined it" He dropped his arm before starting to remove the long robe from his head. I admit I protested internally when the helmet didn’t budge an inch, but I didn’t show it.

He left the fabric on the ground by his feet, and I couldn’t help but give him a glance longer than necessary. His defined arms, his chest covered by a dark outfit I had never seen before "What are you talking about? Do you know my mother?" I whispered.

He exhaled another brief laugh.

"We have an agreement. An ancient one. As you know, the thread has two ends, two weights that keep the universe in balance. Light and darkness. Water and earth. Good and evil… woman and man" he spread his arms in a relaxed gesture, making me feel like I was in one of the congregation’s lessons "For everything in between to exist, there must be balance. People like us, who can use the thread, the force, have duties to the universe. But I hope you already know that"

I nodded, watching him with growing discomfort.

I didn’t feel any balance now.

I felt like prey.

"Good girl. Anyway, as a witch, you have your opposite too" He pointed to his chest "Me. A Sith."

The word was new to me.

Nothing I had ever read or heard had a name like that, which matched the fact that I had never seen anything like him.

A man. A Sith.

"It’s okay to be confused now. Your mother should have told you about me a long time ago. But that’s fine. It doesn’t change anything. We are destined for each other" a playful sigh "You desire me. You want me. It’s in your blood."

I blushed with discomfort, not understanding half of what he was saying, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t want him. I was terribly ashamed, but a voice in my head just wanted him to stop talking and touch me and…

I looked at his chest again.

It was normal to be curious, right?

I had never met a man, so it wouldn’t be foolish to ask to touch him. I was just… curious, that’s all.

As if reading my thoughts, he extended his arm towards me again "Touch me."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard. Was it that obvious? Could it be read on my face? Or was he really reading my mind?

I ignored the fact that it seemed more like an order than an invitation, he seemed like the type of person who had an authoritative tone even when talking about the weather, like Mother Koril for instance.

I raised my hand as if to clasp his in a handshake, but I stopped my fingers a centimeter from his skin.

It was the first time I had touched someone during such an experience. Over the years, I had trained to find other members of the congregation through the thread, but this was different, and it was with a stranger… who knew my name.

And he claimed to know my mother.

It was really foolish to go along with this, but… I wanted… just one more time.

I traced my fingertips along his palm, up his forearm. His skin was pale, and underneath, the prominent veins running through the defined muscles were visible, i stroked them reverently, everything about him screamed "dangerous" and "strong" but I couldn’t tell if it was in a good or bad way.

I reached the inner elbow and his bulging bicep. I would have had to lean in to go further, his arm was much longer than mine, or rather, he was much bigger than me in every way… the realization made me feel a tingling sensation between my legs.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he had moved his hand close to my face. My breath caught in my throat when his rough fingertips brushed my cheek, then moved to the edge of my jaw and neck, his thumb slowly stroking my cheekbone.

I trembled slightly, my breath shallow but my mouth sealed, afraid of making too much noise in a moment that felt so intimate, so private.

I gathered my courage and, with my other hand, touched the muscles of his shoulder more firmly. I had never met anyone so… big, so defined. He seemed like one of those beautiful creatures you read about in books, the figures that show you their best side, perfect machines of death and elegance.

I felt like I was being drawn to a star, knowing I would burn, but I wanted more—I needed it.

Without even realizing it, I pressed my face into his palm like a needy loth-cat. The rough sensation of someone who always worked with their hands on something heavy compared to my smooth skin sent shivers down my spine.

I heard him take a deep breath from under the helmet, a step forward so slow I almost didn’t notice it "Do you want me to make you feel good?"

His voice, if possible, was even deeper than before.

I nodded.

"Then do as I say."

Slowly, the thumb that was stroking my cheekbone moved to my lips, caressing them once before pressing down on my lower lip. My instinct was to lick my dry lips, but the idea of touching his skin in the process frightened me.

Yet, a fleeting thought crossed my mind.

What would he taste like?

"Open your mouth"

I didn’t even think to disobey the order.

I slowly parted my lips, allowing him to push his thumb into my mouth. I exhaled shakily, tasting his skin on my tongue, it was… salty. I couldn’t quite name what I was tasting, I had never thought of the concept of "skin flavor"

When you kiss someone’s cheek, you can smell their scent, maybe a soap they use or a hair product, but this was different.

The rough sensation on my tongue as he pushed the first phalanx between my lips made me swear I heard him mutter something, but with the helmet on it was impossible to understand.

"Such an obedient girl" he murmured more clearly, pushing further in.

"Suck it" he commanded, his voice leaving no room for doubt.

I didn’t know what I was doing what was happening, but... I didn’t want him to stop. I wondered if he would touch me between my legs again with those fingers, maybe if I asked him... if I behaved well he might do it.

I did as he asked. It was uncomfortable, especially when he slid two fingers under my chin, holding me in a firm grip. It didn’t hurt, but it was strong enough to let me know he wouldn’t let me pull away. I wondered if I looked foolish in that position, he wasn’t laughing, but with that mask, it was impossible to tell.

I tried to use my tongue to help, uncertainly placing my hands around his wrist as if to steady myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him move his hand down to his chest unbuttoning the first few buttons.

"Have you ever seen a man naked?"

I made a negative sound around his thumb.

"Are you curious?" I swore I could hear amusement in his voice.

I glanced back and forth between his helmet and his chest. Curious?

I had never really thought about the differences between sexes, but now that he was in front of me, we seemed so similar yet so different, i wondered if his face would give the same impression.

I think he understood my answer on his own because he continued unbuttoning his shirt, the top opened revealing his chest. He pulled his thumb from my mouth, the wet skin brushing my lip one last time before he fully removed the dress.

I swallowed with difficulty.

His broad chest, wide shoulders, pale skin, and defined stomach... he was a sight to behold.

At this point, I wondered what I had done right in life to deserve being there with him, while he showed himself to me.

"You called me because you wanted me to touch you again, right?"

I nodded, not taking my eyes off his chest.

"And I will. But as I said, everything has balance" He gently took my wrist, guiding my hand to his chest, i didn’t hesitate for even a second spreading my fingers to let my palm rest on his smooth muscles.

He let go of me, but I didn’t stop. I was trembling, deeply ashamed. I traced his skin with trembling fingers exploring the definition of his chest, careful to avoid those small nipples, thinking it would be too bold.

It was a constant confirmation of my theory, so similar, yet so different.

I ran a finger down the line of his abs to his navel, where I stopped. I saw him take another small step forward, closing the distance between us. When I looked up, I gasped, realizing how close he really was.

"If you want me to touch you again, you’ll have to do something for me first. We are two sides of the same coin, destined for one another. You want to make me feel good just as I do for you, right?" He tilted his head slightly to the side as he asked.

I parted my lips to respond, but said nothing, instead, I pressed them into a thin line and nodded—it seemed like a fair exchange after all.

He remained silent for a few seconds before taking my hand in his and guiding it lower, where the waistband of his pants began. I stifled a gasp as my palm rested on the bulge between his legs.

"Are you scared?"

I shook my head.

He let go of my hand to start unbuttoning his pants. I moved aside to give him space, my stomach churning with anxious anticipation. The fabric pooled around his ankles, revealing his muscular legs, but I was too distracted to notice, my attention elsewhere as he pushed down his underwear, exposing something I had never seen before.

"Kneel" he ordered.

And I hung on his every word.

I lowered myself placing my knees on the cold, smooth floor. My heart pounded in my throat, and I felt as if I were praying before an ancient god. When we gathered in the congregation to celebrate the thread, we often found ourselves in a similar position, but this reminded me more of ancient legends, the other religions scattered across the galaxy, the mythological figures of gods with human like forms.

The red light illuminated his pale body with an unnatural glow. The terrifying helmet could have been mistaken for the features of a pagan god, and… that tense flesh between his legs, just inches from my face.

Was this really happening?

Was I praying to him?

For my own pleasure?

Would I worship him, and he would make me feel good?

"Focus on my cock, darling. If you learn quickly, you'll get your reward" He grasped his… cock in one hand, stroking it slowly a couple of times. A small drop emerged from the tip, and I stared at it, mesmerized.

"Open your mouth"

I couldn’t say whether it was instinctive after what had happened with his finger or if it was the bond between us telling me what to do, but I parted my lips, extending my tongue to lick away that droplet as it trickled down.

I contracted the muscles in my core, tasting him.

I wanted more.

"Such a good slut." I looked up, confused by what he had called me, but he didn’t say anything more. His free hand took my head and pushed it down along his cock in a smooth motion.

I gasped in discomfort at the sensation, but something at the back of my mind was muddling my senses... a whisper, a cold breeze making my ears ring with white noise. I closed my eyes, rocked by that shiver as I sucked and licked just as I had with his thumb before, the moisture between my legs a sign of my arousal.

"You’re so good, made to suck my cock" His voice broke as he tilted his head back. I watched his prominent neck as I took him deeper, the sensation of salty liquid in my throat as I swallowed, a slight feeling of nausea when his hand pushed me down even more.

He grabbed my hair at the roots, stopping for a moment to look at me.

My eyes were wet with tears from the effort, but I didn’t care, my abs tight, my chest rising and falling quickly with his expressionless mask facing me, a thin sheen of sweat covering him… I could have watched him for hours. I would have done anything he asked to get more.

"Swallow my cum, and then it will be your turn" Without waiting for a signal, he pushed me down again, the base against my lips as the warm flesh filled my throat, my nose full of his hot scent, the white noise growing louder and more insistent, preventing me from thinking clearly, a single thought echoing in my head.

Swallow it.

His breathing grew heavier as he used his hips to fill my mouth, the excitement between my legs increasing.

I reached down to touch myself, but he gripped my hair tightly making me flinch. "Don’t you dare. I didn’t say you could touch yourself" he growled, his breath short. I mumbled incoherent apologies as he drove himself deep into my throat one last time, feeling him contract on my tongue before a thick, warm jet filled my stomach, spilling out slightly before pushing back in again and again, as if to ensure not a drop of that dense liquid was wasted… not that I was unhappy to drink it.

He released me, allowing me to take a deep breath, tears quickly drying.

"Good girl. Now take off those pants."

The satisfaction in his voice warmed my heart, but I hurried to do as I was told, leaving my soaked panties on the ground, hoping he wouldn’t comment on them.

I expected him to order me to get up, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted his foot on his heel, raising the toe of his boot.

"Ride it like a good slut." I began to suspect that the nickname was some kind of term for something, but I ignored it too needy.

I trusted him, so without thinking too much, I clung to his leg like a starving person. The moist, sensitive bud made me flinch as it brushed against the shiny surface of his boot.

"Don’t you think you should thank me?"

I moved my hips back and forth, uncertain, trying to find the best angle. Sobs escaped my lips as I clung to his leg "T-thank you-" I gasped, looking back at the mask.

"That’s not enough. Call me Master."

I bit my lip to stifle a moan, the juices flowing down my thighs and soaking the boot.

"Thank you Master" I stammered, the white noise returning to buzz in my ears.

"You were born to worship my cock, sweet slut. They’ve kept me away long enough. Had I known you were so easy to submit, I would have come for you sooner" He lifted his foot, meeting me, the warmth in the core building up and leaving me breathless. I heard him speaking, but I couldn’t understand a word.

"Say it. That you love my cock, cum on my boot slut."

I whimpered on the edge of pleasure as I rode him shamelessly "I love your cock, Master, please-" I gasped just before tensing, my fingers digging into the muscles of his thighs as I came with a guttural moan, my poor pussy trembling and contracting in the void, my hips pressed against the boot while my legs shook uncontrollably.

I took deep breaths and opened my eyes.

But I was alone again, in my room, with the dawn of a new day visible through the window.

[forever-rogue]

A little hurt to comfort request

A wannabe groupie makes comments about rockstar!eddie girlfriend (aka reader maybe plus-size!reader) eddie ofc defends his lady. But then reader starts feeling insecure about her looks and body she thinks she isn’t good enough for him. But he reassures her that she is the only one for him.

AN | I hope this is okay! I feel like this would be me too, Eddie would be the best the best 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been no secret that you’d been dating Eddie Munson for close to a year now. The Eddie Munson.  Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but then you'd wake up with him pulling you into his chest. 

Life was…pretty fucking good. Or pretty fucking metal as Eddie liked to say.

You'd never thought twice about the fact that you were dating him, or rather that he had chosen you. 

Not until, anyway, one night when you were at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, but you usually watched from the front VIP area or remained backstage to watch everything. Today, something compelled you to go out in the thick of it all, to be with the crowd and experience it from a new angle. 

You were walking in with Jeff’s wife, the two of you holding beers as you went to your seating area. A few curious glances were sent your way, almost as if the people recognized the two of you but just couldn’t quite place you. That was probably exactly what was going on; it was nice to retain some sense of anonymity. 

The two of you siddled into your spots and you heard a burst of laughter coming from a few seats down. The noise was so loud and out of place that it caused you to look down the row. Much to your chagrin you found two women staring back at you, wicked smirks on their faces. 

They were exactly the type of women you expected to be at a rock concert. Scantily dressed with large fake breasts, fake tans, bleached hair and too make-up. These were the type of women that you found after trying to get in with the boys. Groupies, and they were shameless about it. 

You turned your attention back to Angela, but before you could fully do so, you heard a loud moo directed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard them making very non-discreet and rude comments. They were directed at you, you knew that right away and they were making no point to hide it.

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is dating her?”

“She must be good at sucking dick because you know Eddie wouldn’t keep her around for anything else.”

“She’s clearly good at eating.”

“He could do so much better.”

“What a waste of space!”

“If you’re going to be a porker, you could at least try to look pretty.”

You felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes but tried to push away the feelings that were bubbling up. They were just words after all, they shouldn’t have any real effect on you, and yet…it was the worst feeling. Those girls were purposely being cruel and for no real reason. No reason other than the fact that they were jealous of the fact that you were dating Eddie. 

Angela picked up on your sudden mood shift, and gently put her hand on your arm, “what’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” you lied so quickly that it was clearly not true. A frown settled on her features but you shook your head, “really, it’s fine.”

You could see that she was looking past you and down the row where the two girls were standing, looking smug as can be, “was it them? Did they do something?”

“No - nothing,” you dropped your voice to what you hoped was only what she could hear so they didn’t make anything worse, “just felt a little odd for a few minutes. It’ll pass soon.”

“If you’re sure…” she was a good friend and would have done anything for you, just as you would for her. You took a sip of your beer and tried to put on what you thought would be a convincing smile. 

“Of course!” you had never been more thankful for the band to come out and play. You watched the boys struck onto stage, Eddie looking every bit the showman. Your heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him, “c’mon let’s get this show started!”

It wasn't entirely enough to take your mind off everything, but at least you experienced the momentary happiness of getting Eddie on stage. 

You tried to ignore the horrible girls that continued to make comments throughout the show. But it was fuckin’ hard.

Once the show ended, you allowed the crowd around you to disperse and leave, remaining behind so you could make your way backstage quietly. You really didn’t want to see or be around anyone else right now, especially not ones that were going to throw horrible comments at you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once the crowd had thinned out, you followed Angela to the back of the stadium. At least you had the promise of getting to see Eddie soon. She was talking about something but you were only half listening. There were tons of people, girls and guys, hanging around the dressing rooms, trying to sneak their way inside. Luckily the security was good and they kept prying eyes and nosey nancies away. 

The guards recognized both of you now and there wasn’t even a need to show your passes. Eddie must have somehow sensed your presence because he opened the door as soon as you were near it. His entire face lit up as soon as he saw you, the beautiful and brilliant smile making its appearance as he studied you. Before you could even say anything, his brows furrowed and eyes grew worried.

"What's wrong?" and you had to fight the fresh wave of tears that threatened to well up. He gently took your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

"N-nothing," you lied and he was able to see right through it. It was the soft look on his face that caused it all to be too much and the tears spilled over. Eddie's touch was nothing short of reverent as he wiped them away, "its nothing, I'm just being dumb."

"It's not nothing if it's making you feel this way," he insisted but you pulled out of his touch and ducked into his dressing room. Angela saw what was going on and walked over to Eddie, "what's going on?"

"There were girls," she explained, "sitting near us. They were making horrible and rude comments about her. Totally unnecessary and I think they really got to her."

"What the fuck-"

"Yeah," she nodded sadly, looking around to see who was hanging around. And, to no surprise at all, the girls were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Angela grabbed his hand and pointed in their direction, "them! It was the two of them."

A furious look crossed his features as he pulled away from her. Despite the whole bad boy image, Eddie was really soft and kind. But this had brought up a while different type of emotion and Angela had never seen him so mad.

"Hey," he barked at the girls, who immediately pushed to get to him. Little did they know they were not going to like what he had to say to them. The one that had instigated everything came forward and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Hi Eddie-"

"Which one of you was talking shit about my girlfriend?" Their faces paled as they exchanged nervous looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, "huh? Not so brave now, are we?"

"We didn't say anything mean," the other one lied, "we were just talking. She probably misunderstood."

"Bull-fucking-shit," he shook his head, curls bouncing widely, "I know your type, you're just rude to others for no reason. What did you think you were going to get out of being bitches?"

"Listen, we didn't do-"

"I know you did," he glared at them, "did you think we'd somehow break up and one of you had a chance with me? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"We didn't mean anything by it…"

"Well, that's lovely but you did what you did," he took a step back and shook his head at them, "you're never allowed at another Corroded Coffin show. I'll make sure of that. And if this ever happens and I get word of it, I won't be as nice. Clear?"

Neither of them managed to say anything, only nodding dumbly before turning around and practically running away. Eddie told his security to make sure to get their information so he could make sure they were banned from any future shows.

"You're a good man," Angela squeezed his shoulder before turning around to find Jeff.

Eddie took a deep breath before letting himself into his dressing room. His heart broke a little bit when he saw you sitting on the couch, eyes red from crying. 

"Baby," he came over and sat down next to you, attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. You flinched out from under his touch and shook your head at him, hastily wiping away the rest of your half-dried tears. His heart ached; you’d never shied away from his touch before, “what’s wrong? Please just…tell me. Let me make it better. I talked to those girls-”

“It’s not…” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, “it’s not just them. It’s just…me.”

“You? How is it you?’ he crossed his arms over his chest, pale skin covered in various ink, “you know I’m not going to quit asking until you tell me. I’m a stubborn bastard, you know that.”

“Look at yourself,” you gestured to him and confusion marred his features as he looked at himself. He was still sweaty, in desperate need of a post show shower, only wearing a pair of skinny jeans and his beat up sneakers. He shrugged as you huffed, “now look at me.”

He looked you over, the same look as always in his eyes. You were gorgeous and he honestly had no clue what you were going on about, “umm…baby, you’re beautiful. You know that.”

“No,” you stood up and shook your head, “I’m…fuck, Eddie, you have eyes, I’m not skinny and I don’t look like all those other girls who throw themselves at you. I’m-”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, “so what? I love that you don’t look like any of them, I don’t want them - I want you. I love you, baby, all of you.”

“You could have someone better,” you turned your back to him and hid your face in your hands. Eddie didn’t even know how to possibly respond because you were so wrong - so wrong, “someone that looks good like you and that deserves you.”

“I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I don’t want anyone else but you,” Eddie’s hands found your shoulders as he gently turned you around, so he could properly look at you. He put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. He hated seeing you cry and even more he hated the idea that you could ever think so lowly of yourself. You were everything to him and he wished he could make you understand that, “only you. You’re it for me, baby.”

You knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t lying to you. But it still didn’t help the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness that was settling into the back of your mind. Instead of arguing with him or pushing the issue further all you could do was nod in response, “me too, Eddie. You’re it for me too.”

He relaxed slightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite Eddie’s reassurances, the run in at his show stuck with you. You weren’t able to completely shake off the feelings that those cruel words had brought up. Despite trying to hide them and pretending that they weren’t there in order to trick yourself into letting them go, nothing worked. Instead, it just kept getting worse and worse and you found yourself drifting apart from Eddie. 

You felt like you were suddenly aware of every single time someone else looked at him, or read too much into everything that was said to him. You couldn’t help but think that he deserved someone better, someone different - someone that wasn’t you. You wanted only the best for the man you loved so much. 

That’s how you made the hardest decision of your life. 

Eddie practically bounded to the door when he heard the silly little knock that the two of you had come up with. He wasn’t expecting you, but he was always more than happy to see you. He threw open the door, ready to wrap you up in his arms.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the somber expression on your face. You caught his eye for just a moment, looking away and staring at your feet, “h-hey.”

“What’s wrong?” of course he dove right into it; not that you could blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be doing the same thing, “baby?”

“L-listen,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m sorry to do this so late, but umm…I think - I think we should break up.”

“What?” his doe eyes grew wide as you rocked back and forth on your heels before stepping back from him. Eddie ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to rationalize why you were suddenly breaking up with him. He never once thought about the two of you breaking up; in his mind it was forever, and that’s what he had always planned on, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” your words caught in your throat and it sounded even more harsh and choked. This time you hadn’t even bothered to hold back your tears, instead they fell down your cheeks and landed onto the marble of the apartment building’s floor, “I can’t date you anymore, Eddie.”

Eddie was a smart man; it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “can’t date me or won’t  date me?”

“What’s the difference?” you threw up your hands in exasperation.

“You know what it is,” you groaned. You loved his tenacity but right now you just wished he’d accept what you were saying, “either way, Eddie, this is over.”

“Baby,” he tried to grab your arms but you just pulled away, “baby. Is this about what happened a few weeks ago?”

“No,” the blatant lie was obvious, “I just…I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Give me one good reason,” he asked, some desperation creeping into his voice despite how cool he was trying to play it, “give me one good reason why we can’t be together.”

You looked at him, squarely in the face, “I don’t love you.”

And that, those four simple words, cut deeper than anything he would have expected. He knew - or at least desperately hoped - that you were lying to him. Right? Right? The last three years you’d spent together couldn’t all have been a lie, surely. The love you said was real…it couldn’t just have been pretend. That might have actually killed him.

“That’s a lie,” he said through gritted teeth as you shrugged at him, “please, wait, I…we can talk about this and figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” your voice was barely audible as you created an even larger distance between the two of you, “it’s done.”

Eddie watched silently as you walked towards the elevator. When you stepped inside you turned around so you could face him before pressing the button for the lobby. 

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard you say before the doors closed, “I’m sorry.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like an eternity since you’d last seen Eddie. In reality, it had only been four months, but it felt like the longest time in your life. Every day without him felt achingly long and dreadful. The fact that he was famous and you had to see him in magazines, on TV, in advertisements and posters didn’t help. In some ways it was a small comfort getting to see him, but it also made your heart ache more for him. 

You had been tempted to go to his apartment and explain and try and work it out but you stopped yourself. All of this was because of you; and now you had to live with the consequences of your actions. The fact that he was on tour again helped your dilemma slightly - he wasn’t going to be home. 

Even if you were miserable, you hoped that he would be happy. He would find someone that was worthy of his love and that matched him as best as possible. Someone that wasn’t you. Maybe one day you would have your turn too…maybe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you heard knocking at the door. You set down your glass with a huff before pausing the movie you were watching. You’d already gotten the pizza you ordered and had no clue what this could have been. Whatever it i was, it better have been worth getting off the couch.

“Hang on,” you called out before opening the door; you didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before opening, “what?”

“Hi,” and there stood Eddie Munson. A small, tired half smile was on his face; he looked like he’d just come from a show, that similar glow on his face, “h-hi there.”

“Eddie?” you asked softly as though it wasn’t obvious that he was standing right there in your hallway. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning against the doorframe in disbelief, “w-what are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off softly, “you’ve been on tour. I thought your last show was tomorrow night?”

“Still keeping track, huh?” he teased as warmth crept into your cheeks before offering him a single affirmative nod, "the last show was umm…tomorrow but I just…I wanted to see…you."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself and he nodded with a smile, "why? After everything I said and did. I was awful to you."

"It wasn't you," he stated simply, "I mean it was you but it was…circumstances."

"Eddie-"

"Can I come in?" You stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. Once inside, he took a look around the familiar space, feeling more at home than he had in a long time. You went into the living room and plopped on the couch. He sat down on the other end, keeping a bit of distance between your bodies, "so…"

"What are you doing here, Eddie?" you allowed yourself one little look at his face. He looked tired and run down, but there was an expression of fierce determination on his face.

"I'm here to see you," he was never one to beat around the bush, "and I guess…asking you to take me back."

Your tummy erupted in butterflies and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You turned to him, "I - what…you want me to take you back?"

"It's been four months and everyday has fucking sucked," he admitted, letting out a shaky little exhale, "and its because you're not there. I…my life isn't complete without you."

"But…I," he really had to go and be the best man ever. You smiled softly at him, "why would you want to be with me?"

"Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, as though the answer was so obvious. To him it was obvious - you were everything to him. You looked at him, searching his pretty brown eyes, "babe, I'm in love with you. Everything about you, I'm so fucking in love with you it scares me some times. I don't want anyone but you. Like ever."

"But…"

"But what?" He asked gently as you searched for the right words, "tell me, baby."

"You deserve better."

"Why?"

"'cause," you shrugged him off but he wasn't going to have it.

"Nuh uh," he moved even closer and reached for your hand, "I'm not going to let it go until you give me a real answer."

"Look at me, Eddie!" You hung your head before sighing heavily, "I'm not skinny and pretty like all those other girls! You could have any and every single one of them. They'd be so much better for you and they'd be more like you. You'd have someone that deserves you."

"Is that what…baby, is that what this has been about?" He had his light bulb moment but it was a harsh reality. This was still bugging you for so long and he hadn't even realized, "you should have…fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't realize."

"It's not like you can fix anything," you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, "I am what I am and I don't want to feel like I'm holding you back."

"Fuck that," he shook his head, "I barely deserve you, you're so much…you're everything. I know you don't look like some of those other girls, but so what? You're gorgeous, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I don't want anyone else."

"What if you change your mind one day?"

"I hate to break it to you, but that's never going to happen," he promised, "I love you and that's it. Nothing else matters. If anyone has anything to say, fuck 'em. They don't matter."

"Eddie…"

"Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, holding it out to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it gently and opened. Staring back at you was a beautiful diamond ring. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you looked at him, "yeah. I was, ugh, I was actually planning on asking you before you broke up with me."

"You were going to ask me to marry you?" Your voice cracked as you came to the realization that he really was in it forever. Not that you had any reason to ever doubt him, it was the voices in your head that grew too loud. 

"Yeah," he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion, "I just…I wanted you to know."

"I'm sorry," you closed the box and handed it back to him slowly, "really, Eddie. I went and fucked things up."

"No, you didn't," he promised, touching your cheek, "your feelings are valid. Even though I don't agree with how you've been feeling about yourself. It also makes me mad that those girls, or anyone, would ever say something like that about anyone else. It's immature and just shows their own insecurities."

"Thank you," you put your hand on his wrist and squeezed gently, "you're the best, I hope you know that."

"I do," there was a playful little smile on his face, "because there's this amazing woman that constantly reminds me of that."

"You silly man," you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled, "someone is going to be very lucky to have you one day."

"Yeah, I sure hope so," he snorted in amusement, "and I hope it's you."

"Me?!" 

"Of course," he was beaming at you and it was enough to make your entire body feel like jelly, "did you really think you were just going to get rid of me like that?"

"I should have known better," your heart felt lighter than it had in months, "you're a stubborn man, Eddie Munson."

"Maybe so," he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, "I'm also stubborn enough to think that you might still marry me."

"I think that might be something that could happen," and yeah, you were definitely and madly in love with this man, "its definitely in the cards."

"Hmm," he mused gently, "well, it's getting pretty late…I guess I should get going."

"Stay," you held onto his arm and kept him anchored towards you, "stay."

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive," you nodded, never more sure than anything else, "please."

"I love you, baby. So much."

"I love you too, Eddie. So, so much."