#but playing him like that doesn't work out so I ignore that on paper

[beef-brisket]

Adam understood why he was protective of Lucifer- but damn, that guy was scary. He was sure he could take Michael, but... he had a feeling this guy was hiding a knife or something.

He didn't know how to respond to any of that, so he just simply smiled and nodded.

When Michael walked back to Lucifer, Adam decided he needed to use the bathroom. Whether out of fear or urgency, he wasn't sure but he wasn't going to risk it.

Sitting down, Michael took a sip of his drink, and ignored the way Lucifer was looking at him.

When Adam didn't come back, Lucifer stared at his brother: Where's Adam? You didn't actually scare him, did you?

Michael: He has no reason to be scared, Lu. If he doesn't hurt you.

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose: He's not like Lilith, Michael. He's protected me against her damn lackys. He broke Val's nose for fucks sake! And he fought Lilith off-! Just... try to get along with him? Please?

Michael stared at Lucifer. Maybe this Adam was genuine, or he was proving that he could easily hurt Lucifer if he wanted.

Michael: I understand, Lu, but someone has to play the concerned brother. Now, dresscode.

Lucifer rolled his eyes: It's obviously formal, but as for the wedding party, we're still working out the colours... seriously, where is he?

Michael: I suggest either a solf salmon pink like baltra or nact. Sage green is nice, to. And he's using the bathroom~. Your knight will be back soon~.

Lucifer smirked: Shut up!

They bickered until Adam walked back in and silently sat back down. When the brothers eyes went to him, he felt very tense.

Adam: ...So, uh... four ply toilet paper, huh? Not bad.

Michael: ...You USED my four ply?

Adam froze: ...N-No. Just- admiring.

Lucifer growled at Michael: Stop scaring him.

Michael laughed: I'm just joking with him, Lu! It's not everyday I get to act like the big brother!

Lucifer rolled his eyes: Oh please... and we're not going with sage green. Maybe... a pastel blue?

Michael scoffed: You're not a three year old boy, Lucifer. Adam, any colour recommendations for the wedding?

Adam: Oh- uh... I can fuck with a good grey. Or burgundy.

Michael: ...Lucifer, I think you're engaged to a straight man.

Trapped Heart

@beef-brisket

⚠️This deals with Agoraphobia, anxiety, depression, and mentions of domestic abuse ⚠️

-

Adam: Well that's the last of them.

He looked around his new home and smiled, this place was so much better than his last home and a third of the price too.

They were practically giving it away.

There was his lawn mower that was on the truck still.

Adam went out to put it in the garage when he noticed his neighbor, a short blonde man getting his mail from his box. He was better looking than his last neighbor.

Adam waved: Hey!

Lucifer jumped as he grasped his mail, he looked over and saw a handsome brunette standing in the driveway across the road smiling and waving.

Lucifer: O-Oh, hi!

Adam: Names Adam, I just moved in.

Lucifer: N-nice to meet you! I'm Lucifer, I hope you like it here.

He wanted to be polite and welcome his new neighbor right, but he could already feel the cold tendrils of anxiety start to slowly crawl through his skin trying to wrap around him like a vice grip.

How long has he been outside? His heart started to beat a little hard with each moment he's not back in his home. He could die! He's not safe he needs to get back!

Adam: Yeah me too.

By the looks of it he already likes what he sees.

Lucifer nodded, he could feel the tremors starting in his hands the palms getting sweaty.

He needs to go.

Lucifer: I-It was nice to meet you Adam! B-But I need to get going.

Adam: Oh okay, maybe we can hang out sometime?

Lucifer gave a tight smile: Y-yeah.

He waved again to be polite and tried not to run back to his house, his therapist said it was good for him to be out as long as he could stand it.

Pushing himself a little each day. Today him reached his limit.

Once his front door was closed and locked behind relief washed over him, he's safe now nothing can hurt him. He hugged his mail to his chest, he needed to sit down.

Lucifer went over and placed everything on the coffee table. He tried to remember his breathing exercises.

Adam seemed very nice, maybe he'll send Charlie over when she comes to give him a proper greeting.

-

Adam tilted his head as he watched his new neighbor go into his home, if he didn't know any better he would say the man was panicked. Did he do something? He knows his personality can be a little brash at times but he thought he was being polite.

A man that lived beside him came out for his mail as well.

Adam: Hi! Umm, I'm new here.

Alastor: Oh hello! I'm Alastor, I guess that makes us neighbors.

Adam chuckled: Guess so. Umm, if I may ask, is the man that lives there okay? I didn't intend to upset him.

Alastor looked over at Lucifer's home and rolled his eyes.

Alastor: Getting the mail was he? Don't worry about it that man's afraid of his own shadow. I wouldn't waste my time, he never leaves his house.

Well that sounded a little dramatic.

Adam: What?

Alastor leaned on the fence: Oh yeah, Mr. Morgenstern over there never leaves his house. Rumor has it that his wife used to beat the fuck out of him in the home but it was worse when they were in public. Apparently she'd just humiliate him and others would join in making things worse. He was never free of her but at least in the home he could be alone.

Adam was horrified to hear that: Dude, the fuck, is that true?

Alastor shrugged: Not sure. All I know that is true is she left him nearly 8 years ago and he's become some kind of hermit that never leaves the damn house. His daughter Charlie, sweet girl you'll likely meet her, comes over from time to time.

Adam looked over at Lucifer's house, that couldn't all be true right? Maybe some was and the rest is telephone gossip extras?

Him and Alastor parted ways, he had to put everything away in his house. All the while his mind kept going back to the handsome neighbor across the way.

[steamclouds]

Sometimes I think about the fact that Voradras is only a rogue out of circumstance. He's not a thief, assassin or a criminal, he only taught himself these skills as a means to survive and one day escape the Underdark. He's the kindest soul with the feistiest spirit you'll ever meet, and in a perfect world he'd have become a ranger, determined to keep people safe.

[rukkiya]

didn’t mean a thing

˚✧ ﾟneuvillette x reader, wriothesley x reader (separate) ˚✧ ﾟ

(they say something mean to reader when reader tries to surprise them)

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

neuvillette

The chief of justice often feels the pressure of his role. Lately the cases have been weighing heavy on him, more so than usual.

The amount of unattended cases and trials to come up only makes the judge more anxious, more stressed, and worst of all more irritable.

He hasn’t been taking care of himself, often prioritizing his job over his health and it breaks your heart. You’ve caught him taking naps in his office when you’d stop by to visit so you thought of making him something to help him during his times when he sleeps.

You're a local seamstress, but you have a good hand for crocheting as well. You often make small crochet plushies for the orphans and melusines so you thought a small pillow would work wonders for nevi when he takes naps in his office.

The iudex is sat at his desk reading over one of the many cases piled up next to him. His migraine forms as he sighs, taking a sip of cool water in hopes to somewhat ease it.

He hears a soft knock at his door and ignores it at first. The people he works with know not to bother the chief when he has this much work to do. but the knock is heard again making him sigh, putting the documents down.

“Come in.” He calls out, seeing your head peek in, a soft smile already playing on your lips.

“Hello love!” you beam, you love visiting your husband at work. You don’t get to see him home too often, you take any chance you get to drop by.

“Hello,” he greets back, mouth forming a straight line. “Is something the matter?” He asks, wasting no time.

“No, I just wanted to drop off something for you.” You smile, feeling how off he was right away. He must be so drained you think, trying to dismiss the uninterested tone in his voice.

You pull a small bag from behind your back and walk up to him, holding it out for him to grab.

His face remains neutral and you feel small under his gaze, regretting interrupting his work.

It’s strange though, he usually always welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you in to spend time with him. Today was different.

He begrudgingly moves his chair back and eyes the bag.

What’s so important that you have to interrupt his work?

He grabs the bag from you and you pull your hand back as he peeks in, moving the wrapping paper aside.

His hand comes up to the bridge of his nose when he sees a small pillow with blue and white lace trimming at the edges in the bag.

He doesn't know what he expected and he doesn’t understand why he feels so bothered but he can’t help it.

“Is this all?” He asks, putting the wrapping paper back on top, handing you the bag back like it was something that made him upset.

“I made it for you. You often take breaks and sleep in your office so I thought-“

“That’s the problem you know.” He cuts you off before you can finish, making you step back a bit.

“You think, what you do will make things better for people or you know what people need.” He brushes off the small gift like nothing.

“I just wanted you to get proper rest, you look tired. I know you haven’t been getting much sleep because of all the cases and-“

“And you’re the one stopping me from finishing them right now, right? I don’t need you always checking up or stopping by when you feel like it. Some of us take our jobs seriously. It’s suffocating having you stop by everyday. I need space and time to do my own job alone. Thank you very much.” He’s almost out of breath by the end of it, his eyes narrow at you, you feel what the verdicts of the cases feel when he judges them.

You don’t know what to say. You feel small under his gaze and he doesn’t even flinch, after all he’s said he stands his ground.

“Forgive me for worrying in the slightest, it won’t happen again.” Your voice falls flat, you dig your nails in your palm to stop the sting in your eyes as you turn to leave.

Reaching the door you half expect him to stop you, apologize or something but it never happens. You step outside and feel your tears drop, lowering your head from gazes around you.

You head to your home with a heavy heart. You feel utterly stupid. You should’ve seen the signs, you knew he was on edge because of work and you walked right into it like a spider's web.

You reach your house feeling drained. You slowly make your way to your room to continue working on small plushies for the orphans to take your mind off the harsh words you hear earlier. Throwing the small pillow you made into the trash before you get to work. He doesn’t want it and neither do you.

Neuvillette lets out a content sigh. He’s done his work, more than half of the cases he’s reviewed and he feels better. Enough to call it a day and head home somewhat earlier than normal. Maybe he can catch a meal with you, something he hasn’t done in ages.

He opens the door to your shared home and takes note of how quiet it is. Is it usually this quiet when you’re alone?

The living room was dim, the only source of light was flooding the from the cracks of your shared bedroom.

He hangs his coat and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He wants nothing more than to spend time with you.

You hear your bedroom door creak but don’t bother to turn around, already knowing who it was. You made a promise to yourself to stop being overbearing with him, he told you it’s suffocating, you never want him to feel that way with you.

He feels his lips tug upwards a bit at the sight of you. You were stitching some plushies, your work always so beautiful and delicate.

“Hello my love.” He speaks softly, he knows he acted out of place earlier but he wants to make it up to you. He knows you only care, that just the kind of sweet genuine person you are.

“Hello.” You welcome him barely above whisper, not looking up at him. You lay in bed crocheting a small plushie.

“Are you going to drop those off at the orphanage tomorrow?” He asks, heart filling with utter adoration at the sight of you making your beautiful plushies.

“Yes.” You answer, nodding your head as you cut the end of the yarn off.

“Would you like me to assist you?” He asks, you feel like it’s a trick question. After all he has told you today he asks this?

“No need. You have work, I can go with Navia.” You decline, he stands there for a second before clearing his throat.

“Why of course, please send my regards when you stop by.” He asks and you nod.

What’s wrong? You’ve never declined his offers of helping you. Were you not feeling well?

“I’m going to wash up dear, afterwards I’ll make us something to eat.” His voice is much softer than earlier. You don’t understand what he wants anymore. It’s confusing.

While Neuvillette was showering you warmed up his portion of the dinner you made, setting it up on his bedside table. You were hurt by his words but you still want him to eat.

After preparing his meal on his bedside table, you grab your pillow and an extra blanket heading to the living room couch. As much as his words hurt you, you still want to hold him, talk to him and have him close but he doesn’t want that. He made it more than clear in his office.

After Neuvillette’s shower, he’s greeted with a meal on his nightstand. He looks around the room and notices you're not in bed anymore. He catches sight of your plushie on your nightstand and thinks you went to use the other restroom.

He gets changed and smiles at the meal you made for him. Always helping him when he knows you work just as hard as he does, if not even harder than he does. You’re passionate about your work and he adores that side of you.

He buttons up his shirt and sits in bed, looking at the clock. It's been over 15 minutes since he’s gotten out. Why weren't you back in bed?

He stands and walks over to your side of the bed where the plushie lays on the nightstand. From the corner of his eye a blue and white lace trimming catches his attention and he looks down at the small bin next to your side of the bed.

He reaches in and pulls out the small pillow you had brought to his office earlier that day, he feels his heart sink. Remembering his harsh words and how he gave it back to you without a second thought. He feels guilty.

You threw this beautiful pillow away because of his foolish outburst. He feels like a fool for talking to you in such a way. Your guarded attitude made more sense now that he realizes it.

He clutches the small pillow in his hold and looks to your side of the bed, noticing your pillow missing.

His legs move on their own, opening your room door greeted with the dark living room only a candle being your source of light.

He can see you laying on the couch and he feels his eyes burn.

As he nears you he hears you crying and his heart tugs at the sound.

He wouldn’t dare let you sleep alone, ever.

He says nothing as he turns to you and you quickly turn away to hide your tears.

He kneels down a bit. Arms circling under your legs and head, picking you up with ease as he grabs your pillow before making his way back to your room.

You feel more tears spill. What was all this? What does he want?

He stops in the room after closing the door behind him. The only sound to be hard was your sniffling before you heard rain, rain droplets hitting your window.

He holds you closer, tighter in his hold.

“My love, I’m terribly sorry for my words that have caused you to feel the need to distance yourself. I’m sorry I disregarded your gift for me. I will cherish it forever.” He whispers, his legs moving once again making his way to your side of the bed.

He softly lays you down before standing again, you see the pillow you thee away on your nightstand and feel more tears spill.

He turns, he knows he should give you space, give you time alone and as much as he wants to hold you he has to respect your boundaries.

Before he can get too far he feels a hug in his wrist, he feels his own tears spill.

Your heart, which is too kind and forgiving, knows him too well. He truly doesn’t deserve you.

“Please don’t leave.” You whisper, he only nods, who’s he to say no? After all he’s done today he’d be a fool.

He climbs into bed, arms immediately grabbing you, laying you on top of him as the rain outside gets louder.

“My love, I apologize for my actions. Please find it in your heart to forgive a fool like me, not right now but when you can.” He can only whisper, if he speaks any louder he’s scared he’ll cry more.

You nod your head as it lays on his chest “yes my love, I do.” you hug him, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be here right now you tell yourself. The fact that he’s here right now shows so much.

You hear his heartbeat steady and the rain outside subside. Knowing he’s calmed down, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Neuvillette holds you closer, making a promise to himself and you to never act out of place like that again. Not with you, who’s so caring and giving he’ll cherish you forever along with the pillow you made for him today.

wriothesley

The duke is in charge of many things, running the fortress of meropide is one. Dealing with troublesome inmates to make sure they know their place and meetings that consist of various things for him to arrange.

Wriothesley was making his way back from a meeting with Neuvillette. He has asked him about an inmate, asking him to bring him up for further questioning, giving him the inmates name and number before he left.

Neuvillette had given him a small paper with the number and name. Wriothesly had memorized it just after a few glances at the small paper. But during his busy day out he has misplaced it. And as the day went on he was worried he’d forget.

He didn’t want to trouble Neuvillette with another meeting to give him the number again so he’s been repeating it while making his way to his office.

You decided to bring Wrio some food and tea. Upon arriving at his office you found it empty and decided to surprise him for when he comes back. Sitting on the small couch by his desk, setting up his meal for when he comes.

You often have one or two days out of the month where you catch up and eat lunch together in his office. It's one of the ways that you get to see him more besides when he comes home to sleep.

No one dared to stop the duke as he made his way to his office, the look on his face alone was screaming don’t approach me right now.

You hear his office door open and hear his footsteps echoing up the staircase, you stand up and wait by the edge of the stairs happy to see him.

He doesn’t even look your way when he reaches the top, instead he brushes past you. Mumbling some numbers under his breath.

“Wrio.” You call out softly, making him whip his head back. He didn’t even notice you were here, let alone see you standing right by him.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, it comes out harsher than he intends.

“I brought you food! We haven’t had lunch in a while, I made your favorite too. It’s been sometime since we’ve sat down and had a home cooked meal.” You beam, smiling at him and pointing to his desk behind him where you set up the food.

“That’s great, but right now isn’t the time.” He brushes you off. Walking to the cabinet where all the inmates' files are repeating the number in his head still.

“I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you tend to look over your health because of work. This can help you focus on your work more! I even brought your favorite tea to go with it.” You walk to his desk and pour the hot tea into his favorite cup.

“Just take a second and eat, take care of yourself and-“

“Do you ever stop?” He feels his grip on the cabinet tighten as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

You stop talking and look over at him.

“I’m sorr-“

“I have an office to do my work, for peace and quiet as I do so. No one has the right to waltz in here and think they can have a tea party and talk their heads off while I work.” He slowly turns to you.

You only swallow, not knowing how to respond.

“You know I have more important things to do than have a meal with you. You talk so much, too much sometimes and you don’t know when to stop and it’s bothersome. Learn how to stop at times and not bother people when they’re working, yeah?” He scolds, roughly shoving the cabinet closed.

You look down at the desk, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

You feel like you’re glued to the floor. You can’t move.

“I’d like to get back to work, I don’t have time for all this. I’d be best if you went back to work as well.” He sits at his desk with a file and you feel your eyes sting.

Leaving the food on his desk and grabbing your bag. Walking downstairs and away from his office that felt suffocating, you should’ve just minded your business.

You walk out of his office, closing the door softly as his words ring in your head.

Seigwinne sees you, walking up but stopping In his tracks when she sees your solemn expression. She’s studied humans enough to know that the emotion you were feeling was sadness.

You make your way home, stepping inside and locking the door as you feel the first tear run down your face.

You know how much you talk, you know many people don’t like it but Wriothesley never said anything about it. He’s always listened to you, saying it helps him relax. During work he’s often doing the talking so hearing you talk, it brings him peace. He also loves your voice.

When did he start getting annoyed? Has it been a while? What if he’s been tired of hearing me this whole time? You question yourself. Coming to the conclusion that you need to stop. Stop talking so much and taking up his time. It’s for the better.

When Wriothesley ends the meeting with the inmate he finally feels some tension release from his shoulders. He’s been running around all day and he hasn’t had time to sit in peace.

From the time on the clock he sees it reaching seven pm and decides to call it a day. He’s done the most important task already. He can attend other matters tomorrow.

As he cleans up his desk he notices the food and tea, remembering you stopped by earlier to chat with him. Remembering what a jerk he was and how he told you to leave.

He sighs when he notices what you made. You have a habit of putting others' priorities before yours and he feels bad for how he responded. He packs up the food to take it back home, to reheat and eat with you like you wanted.

When he arrives home, he notices how quiet it was inside. He pushes the door open and is met with a small lamp in the kitchen and spots you sitting on the couch, book in hand.

“I’m home darling.” He calls out, seeing you turn to him, giving him a small smile then turning back to your book.

His eyebrows draw together, he loves coming home and seeing you. Always so excited and giddy asking him about his day and telling him about yours but you didn’t even respond to him.

“I brought the food you made back home, I wanted to reheat it and eat with you. We haven’t spent time with each other in a while.” He speaks up, pulling his tie down a-bit as he still sees you reading your book.

Why weren’t you responding? He thinks, you’re never this quiet.

“Have you eaten?” He pushes, trying to get something out of you, anything.

“Not hungry.” You answer, simple and quick. Not even looking away from your book this time.

He feels nervous. He feels something off.

“I’ll heat it up, if you want some please eat.” He sighs, the tension is heavy but nothing happens. He knows something’s off with you.

In silence the duke eats alone on the table, sending you glances as you continue to turn the pages of your book. Not indulging him in your ranting he’s come to grow ‘annoyed of’. He made it clear earlier.

“The food is delicious, thank you for making this.” He tires again, this time you look up. He smiles a bit but you do something that makes him believe something is off, you only send him a thumbs up in return.

He finishes his half and saves you yours for when you get hungry, putting it away and making his way to you.

“Y/n darling. Is something the matter?” He asks, making his way closer to you. Seeing you shift uncomfortably from where you sit.

“Nope.” You shake your head, not daring to look at him. You can feel him coming closer.

He kneels down, inspecting you. The corners of your eyes were a bit red, but nothing else seemed off. Were you feeling sick?

His hand reaches up to feel your forehead but you move away.

“I’m not sick.” You speak up as you dodge his touch. He feels his hand freeze.

“Use your words, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He asks, placing hands next to both sides of your legs caging you in.

“I’m not one of your inmates, don’t order me to do things.” You speak up, still not daring to look up at him, you can feel his piercing eyes on you.

He’s taken aback at your response.

“I’m not ordering you y/n, I’m just worried.” He sighs, pulling your book down to get you to look at him.

“I said I’m fine, can I get back to reading?” You glance up at him. Trying your best to not let anything slip though. You don’t want him to see how much his words hurt you.

He decides to stop, for now. He knows something’s wrong. You’re too stubborn to tell him though.

He walks into your shared bedroom and into the bathroom to shower, racking his brain to think of what possibly could have made you so upset. The whole time he spends in there he can’t think of why you’re refusing to respond properly.

It’s already later when he gets out, the steam from the bathroom becoming visible when he opens the door.

He sees you in bed and he can help but feel at ease. You came to bed at least. He walks over to the closet eyes you as he does, a small smile making its way onto his lips at the sight of how you look.

He starts changing and notices you’re faced away from him. He quietly steps around and sees you hugging a pillow and he feels this heavy feeling in his chest again.

Did he do something?

He lays down next to you, you feel the bed dip and try your hardest to not turn around. You’d probably hug him and start talking and annoy him again. He probably doesn't want that.

You feel like such a fool. All day his words have been affecting you. You’re too scared to speak again.

You hug the pillow closer to you and feel your eyes burn once again. Hearing those words from him hurt more than anything. You don’t want to show him how much it hurts you though. He doesn’t need to know. He said what he said and what’s done is done.

He lays there for a bit, the tension still surrounding you. He’s unsure of what to do. He wants to hold you, pull you in but what if you move again.

That’s when he hears it, the small sound of sniffing. He freezes. His heart drops making him stand.

You feel the bed move and hear him stand, you think the worst. Maybe he’s leaving because he’s annoyed. He doesn’t want to deal with this. You don’t know why you’re crying but it won’t stop. He just told you something that bothered him and you took it too personally. You’re both hurt and upset and you don’t understand why.

It’s quiet for a few seconds but then you feel a firm hand gently grab your arm, lifting you off the bed effortlessly.

You try to hide your face but Wriothesley has had enough of this.

“Hey hey, look at me.” He softly calls out.

You try to hold it in but you feel more tears run down. Placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away but his sturdy frame doesn’t budge.

“I’m fine, j-just tired.” You try to sound convincing despite your voice cracking. Struggling against his hold, pushing him a bit harder to move.

You resist in his hold and he feels his heart break even more.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He grabs your hands, stopping your struggle and you look down, not wanting to look at him.

“Nothing, I’ve talked enough today. I don’t want to anymore.” You try to sound convincing, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp.

He’s taken aback, talked too much? You haven’t even talked at all. Where is this even coming from- oh.

oh

He stills, eyes boring into your head as you avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it earlier y/n. I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. It doesn’t excuse if I was mad or busy telling you that wasn't something I ever meant. I love hearing you talk. I love your voice. Don’t ever think that I want you to stop.” He explains, knowing he was the reason for it all now. What a jerk he’s been.

He drops his head, resting it on yours. He waits a bit seeing if you’d pull away but you don’t. “Darling, I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart I am. I miss hearing you talk. The house is eerily quieter without your beautiful voice and laughter echoing through these halls.” He speaks softly, hearing a small sob escape your lips.

You move back a bit, looking up at him and taking a breath. “But you told me- I don’t want to annoy you.” You hiccup, finally letting more tears fall. It’s been eating you alive. It hurts. It hurts so bad because someone you love told you.

“No no, you’d never, and you never ever had. Do you understand?” He makes it clear, seeing your pretty eyes filled with tears he grabs your face.

Your behavior makes sense now, how could he have been so mean to you? He truly is such a fool.

His hands slowly lift to your face, testing the waters to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t pull back. “Please talk to me. Don’t hold back or hide your voice dear. Scold me, tell me what I did wrong.” He pleads, the look in his eyes desperate.

You nod, wiping your tears when he brings your head to his chest hugging you close. “Please forgive me.” He repeats, squeezing you tighter when you let out a small ‘yes’.

He holds you close, and though you said you forgive him. He can’t take you for granted, not when you’re the best thing to ever come into his dull life. So he repeats it over and over, until you both fall asleep.

_________________

authors note: hello my lovelies HIIIIII!!! (/^▽^)/ it’s been a while but I come with a gift ANGST!! hehe neuvi and Wrio are such sweet men this was kind of a rough one but them with them seems so AMAZING! I hope you all had a lovely holiday and you’re all taking care! Hope I enjoy yet another angst with comfort! take care loves, bagel miss u all mwahhh <33 ^~^! (DISCLAIMER!! this was not edited or looked over, apologies for any misspelled words or incorrect grammar!!)

[pathologicalreid]

central nervous system | s.r.

in which you are drugged on what should've been a routine case

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; hurt/comfort content warnings: being drugged, threatened sexual assault, season 10, blood, broken glass, in a bar but reader doesn't drink, jareau!reader. word count: 1.7k a/n: oh dear. this week was so eternally long. work was crazy busy i worked overtime and almost ended up in the hospital which all led up to me taking the lsat today. crazy shit, but margovember will prevail. also! i'm hoping to get masterlists updated tomorrow if that's something you've been waiting on.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” an unfamiliar voice intrudes on your private thoughts, looking around the bar that you had been planted in to see if you could catch your UnSub before he had the chance to attack someone else.

He sets a glass in front of you, and you drop some cash on the wooden surface, you shrug, “I’m in town on business.”

The bartender laughs heartily at your response before shaking his head, “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just—that’s a line I hear a lot.”

Your face warms at the recognition that the bartender was flirting with you, but this is a man who gets paid to be nice. You take his words at face value and sip at your drink, “Well, I have no reason to lie to you,” you squint at his name tag, “Jackson.”

He wipes down a spill, hooking the rag over the sink, and smiling at you, “Well, it’s nice to meet an honest woman.”

Following him with your eyes as he walks away, that last comment rubs you the wrong way, but Jackson Gleason was the bar manager, and Garcia had already cleared him from the suspect list.

You find yourself wishing Hotch had sent you into the bar with an earbud to communicate with the team, but instead, you were handed a phone, preprogrammed to alert the team if you hit the power button. There was a plainclothes officer somewhere in a corner to keep an eye on you, and the rest of the team was at the precinct or in an unmarked van outside.

Kate had coached you to the best of her abilities, but this wasn’t your first time going undercover. Catching serial rapists was more her speed, but she was pregnant, which immediately took her out of the running. Sipping from the thin straw in your glass, you let your eyes wander around the bar, antique posters and advertisements are littered across the walls, and someone just started playing Radiohead on the jukebox.

Eyeing the phone in your purse, you sigh, stirring the ice in your cup listlessly.

“Can I get you another? Maybe something stronger?” The manager offers, returning from the employees-only door with a new package of straws to restock the bar.

You shake your head, holding your empty glass out of him to take, “The same thing is fine.” Ignoring the fact that you don’t drink—you couldn’t drink on the job; all you’d been given was a coke.

He raises his eyebrows at that, “Suit yourself,” he says, ignoring the fact that you were trying to hand off your already dirtied glass to him and filling a clean cup with ice and coke.

Brushing it off as company policy, you thank him for the drink, placing another few dollars on the bar and smiling at him. Over your shoulder, you glance at the plainclothes officer, engaging in an animated conversation with another patron over whatever sports game is playing on the TV. You suspect he’s a little too good at pretending to be off the clock.

You make a face at the straw in your glass, and the bartender notices, “Sorry, just ran out of plastic.”

Taken aback, you use the paper straw anyway, sipping at your drink while you still can—knowing the straw will inevitably disintegrate.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice something wrong, a dull ache in your chest exacerbated by a slight rise in your body temperature. Your fingertips feel hot like they would after coming inside from the cold. You look down to find the emergency phone in your purse, but your head droops with your eyes, every controlled movement before a struggle.

“Hey,” Gleason says, jutting his chin in your direction, “You don’t look so great.”

A different version of yourself would’ve given him snark in return, but that different version of yourself would’ve been able to feel her extremities. “Woah,” You breathe, trying to swing your legs off of the stool only to find that you’re much higher from the ground than you initially thought.

When you lift your head again, whipping it back so hard you’re afraid it might fly off, he’s standing directly in front of you, “Why don’t I take you out back? You can get some fresh air,” the offer is innocent enough, but it rubs you the wrong way. His hand is on your waist, at the very least you know that’s wrong—you have a boyfriend, and it’s not this guy.

No, your boyfriend is outside of the bar in a van, waiting for your signal because you’re… oh. “No,” you whisper, trying to get your breathing under control. “I’m— Where’s my phone?” You’re digging through your purse as he stands you up and guides you to the back of the bar, closer to a large exit sign.

Sirens are going off in your head, but even they sound separated from your situation. “I can call a cab for you,” he assures you, leading you by your arm and closer to the back door.

“No,” you say again, “I really need my phone…” his grip tightens on your wrist, practically dragging you out of the bar while you use your free hand to find your phone, pushing the power button before it slips out of your hand, clattering to the ground. “That really hurts,” you tell him, now able to give more of your focus to evading the man who was most decidedly not Jackson Gleason.

Pulling your arm back, you manage to break free from him, the momentum from your struggle sends your hand flying into a picture frame, shattering the glass and causing the UnSub to spin on his heel. “Look at what you did,” he seethes, gripping your hair at the back of your head and forcing you to look at the shattered glass.

Your mouth gapes at the sensation of your hair being pulled until there’s a rush of cold air and he pushes you forward, into the waiting arms of someone else, “Woah, hey, I’ve got you,” Spencer says, keeping you off of the floor and, with the help of someone else, carrying your dead weight over to one of the booths.

Spencer clambers into the booth seat first, seating you in front of him so that your back is pressing against his chest. You let out a low groan when he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping your body from flopping onto the sticky hardwood.

“Do you know what you took?” He asks, pressing his face into your hair so that the two of you can keep your voices down.

Vaguely aware of the way his fingers are pressing into the pulse point on your wrist, you shake your head, “I didn’t take anything.”

He hums in response, “You were drugged. I— I’m so sorry we didn’t realize who it was sooner. By the time we realized there was a discrepancy in Jackson Gleason’s file, you had already pushed the alert button,” he tells you, being careful not to move around too much. “Can you lift your head for me? It’ll help your breathing.”

With tremendous effort—and some help from Spencer—you lift your head, letting it rest on him. Now, you can see that the majority of the bar has cleared out, Rossi watches you nervously from the bar, telling Spencer something about paramedics. You huff, “Where’s JJ?”

“She’ll meet us at the hospital, love,” he answers you, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

Trying to adjust yourself, you shake your head indeterminably, “No, it’s… I need my sister. I need my sister.” Somewhere—a past version of yourself, perhaps—you knew that JJ was at the hospital, speaking with one of the survivors.

Spencer speaks with someone that you can’t see, they’re standing in your periphery, a mangled blur of a person. Moments later, something cold is pressed to your face, and the sensation makes you jump, “Ow,” you whine, though it doesn’t hurt.

“Ducky?” Your sister’s voice rings through the phone, and you’re surprised to hear her using your nickname. Although, your status as JJ’s little sister tends to come through when you’re hurt.

You hum into the receiver, “Hi, J,” you greet wearily.

A sigh of relief is her next response, “Hey, Derek said you’re waiting for the paramedics to take you to the hospital, and I’ll be here to greet you when you arrive. Does that sound alright?”

“It’s cold in here,” you mumble, wondering if Derek is the blurry shape remaining in your periphery.

There’s a pause on her end before she speaks up again, “I’m sorry, Ducky.” There it was again. “You’ll be okay though; you just have to wait it out.”

You nod as a jacket is laid out on your lap; Spencer must’ve heard you mention being cold to your sister. Your boyfriend whispers something to you, “Spencer says the paramedics are here and I can’t talk to you anymore.”

JJ laughs slightly on the phone, “I’ll see you when you get here, okay?”

“Yeah, J,” you whisper, letting someone take the phone from you. You frown at Spencer, “I don’t feel quite right.”

Helping you get on the gurney, Spencer holds your hand while an EMT wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, “He likely gave you a central nervous system inhibitor.”

You nod slowly, wrinkling your nose when the other paramedic shines a light in your eyes, “I am nervous,” you answer. Trying to listen to the medical personnel as they explain what’s going on, but it all goes in one ear and out the other. One of them crudely wraps a cut on your hand to staunch the bleeding, but you couldn’t even remember when it started to bleed.

Anxiously, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t bite down on your lip,” Spencer instructs, “You could bite right through it and not even realize.”

Releasing your lip, your eyes widen at him while he pulls a blanket over your shoulders. “That’s scary,” you whisper.

“I agree,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “It is scary.”

[bananami]

A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.

I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.

(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)

"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Yeah Nanamin-"

"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.

"But Yuji calls you that!"

"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.

"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"

"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."

A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.

"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."

"That's not how that works."

"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.

"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.

"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."

Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"

"Itadori. Next question."

"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.

"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"

"She doesn't drink coffee."

"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."

"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."

"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"

"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."

"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"

"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."

Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."

"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.

"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"

"Yuji, that's too easy."

"Yellow."

"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"

"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."

Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"

"Shut up, Gojo."

"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."

"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"

"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."

He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.

Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"

Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"

Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."

Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"

"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I stay over?"

"If you'd like to."

"Can I pick the movie we watch?"

"Don't push your luck."

[gremlingottoosilly]

Deaf!Reader are struggling to earn money to pay off their rent and living expenses, by handing out leaflets on the street X Mafia!Konig

(one time, I was walking past the metro, and there was this lady handing out leaflets to men. I wanted to take the leaflet as well because I always wanted to help the people who were handing it out, but she looked at me super weirdly when I took the leaflet. Turns out, it was a leaflet for illegal prostitution sites (sex work is banned in Czech Republic) You just needed money. The disability payments are dogshit and wouldn't even cover half of the expenses of renting your own place - but all the other jobs are basically blocked to you on the basis of not having enough resources to support a deaf worker. You know it's just their saying, they simply don't want to hire you even for brownie diversity points - but still, the only jobs that you could get without much of an education is something as shitty paying as handing leaflets. At least you can just not read the lips of people who are clearly cussing you out for bothering them with an abysmal task of accepting a thing piece of paper. Only, the gig is just a bit too shitty. It's illegal; technically, sex work is still as banned as always - you stare at the leaflets with half-naked women printed all over, disguised as dating websites, and you want to puke over how fucking terrible it looks. Still, they were paying a bit more than usual, and cops won't bother you as long as it's not a direct sex work endorsement. The people on the streets are having weird reactions, however... Konig had a shitty day and an even more annoying night. Having to oversee a big drug deal himself because Horangi was out dealing with some transgressors, and Krueger can't be trusted with customer service, he had to stay awake at ungodly hours just to finish the deal...and now there is some dumb girl handling him a leaflet for his fucking sex business like she doesn't know who he is and can't hear that he said he doesn't want it three times already and- He notices the way you stare at his lips and ignore the yelling of other people crowding around during rush hour at the station. Oh. Konig guesses even the illegal business of his had to get more open for workers with disability...although he looks at your cute lips and just knows he is ready to promote you from handling leaflets to never holding anything heavier than his hand (and his cock) ever again. Needless to say, you were terrified when this big, grumpy man in a suit just fucking grabbed you hand and pushed you into an unmarked and clearly dangerous-looking vehicle. Of course, sometimes people are annoyed at receiving brochures, but not to the point of kidnapping...and certainly not to the point of bringing you to their lap and then forcing a hand between your legs, squeezing and playing with the flesh like you were nothing but a stress toy. Not being able to read his lips since you were pressed so closely to him, terrified you even more...although his intensions are pretty clear when you felt a kiss pressed to your forehead, and a gentle hold on your neck until you finally passed out in his hands.

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[junovae]

giving blowjobs to the tf141 men under a desk at their workplaces - headcanons

simon "ghost" riley | streamer/gamer

you and simon had gotten into an argument earlier

so of course you slip under his desk while he livestreams to get your revenge

he instantly knows what you are doing as soon as he feels a hand tugging down at his sweatpants

doesn't even try to push you away

instead, a provoking and smug smile forms on his face as he bites his cheeks

mutes his mic as soon as your soft lips engulf the tip of his cock

immediately thrusts his dick into your warm mouth, causing you to choke

grabs your hair with one hand and guides you up and down, coating your saliva all over him in euphonies of slurps and gags

you didn’t like fighting and secretly missed the way he filled your mouth to the brim with his length

the chat explodes with messages informing him that his mic stopped working or that he was muted

the sound of you choking on his fat cock is music to his ears

"you think you can beat me at this game? how 'bout we play another one. try not to make a sound when i unmute, hm? if you win, i'll fuck you real nasty later."

john price | ceo

john price is the big-name ceo of the corporation you're employed at, working under him as his personal secretary

before a business meeting, he has you on his knees for him as he slathers his cock all over the tongue that you are sticking out for him

to help the two of you de-stress before the meeting, he says

once the shareholders start entering the room, he moves you under the big desk

the meeting goes along as planned without any hiccups as you silently adore his throbbing cock with your mouth

he contains his composure, continuing to write notes on his paper

being the tactical leader he is, he sees this as another challenge

occasionally, he lets out a sigh through his nostrils when he feels his tip hit the back of your throat

nearing the end of the meeting and reaching his climax, he looks down to see a mouthful of his girth stuffing your face

the tears in your eyes is what gets him. he knows it took a lot for you to stay quiet

he plans to praise you later for it

as the meeting ends, he releases his cum into your mouth, prompting you to swallow all of it

"come to my office later, angel. i need you to help me manage my schedule."

the rest of his daily agenda consisted of cancelled meetings and a full 24 hours of fucking you all over his office - against the bookshelf, bent over his desk, and with plenty new positions you never imagined were possible

kyle "gaz" garrick | librarian

it's finals season and the library had become your second home

thankfully, it was a bit more bearable as you had someone you knew to bother when taking your study breaks

needing a hiatus from your session, you decide to go bother kyle

making sure no one was looking, you slide under the front-desk of where he was sitting and pull out his dick

he looks at you wide-eyed and asks what you are doing

you ignore him, careful to make eye contact while playfully sucking on his balls

he covers his mouth in embarrassment

asks if you can do this another time, preferably when he wasn't working

but as soon as you let go of his cock, he swiftly scoots closer and holds your head to push your mouth back on him, causing you to let out a soft gag

he lets you take the lead with your mouth, appreciating the visual of your bobbing head going down on him

you make him feel so good that he ends up whining softly with each bounce

the two of you try your best not to let out any sound, weary of the silent atmosphere

you guys are in a library, for fuck's sake

this causes him to grip onto the table and bite his lips in hopes of preventing himself from making any more noise as he cums all over your face

his cock twitches as he slathers the evidence of his climax all over your face

"fuck. i wish i could let them hear how well you were sucking me. you’d probably like that, huh?"

john "soap" mactavish | personal trainer

john accidentally double-scheduled a training session with you and another person that day

luckily, you had come in early to his gym office, surrounded two-way with glass wall partitions

with time to spare, he gladly shows you some new stretching exercises he wanted to incorporate into his lessons

you tell him that you want to test your flexibility

he's not sure what you mean but once you pull him over to his desk and unzip his pants to reveal his already rock-hard cock, he smirks

something about seeing you in your workout attire

you bend over into a bridge pose as he fucks your mouth

he hisses at the sight of your bent-over-backwards body sucking on him. fuck, this is so hot, he thinks

the way his ball sacks were slapping against your face made him feel dizzy

he instructs you to switch to the next position, the upward-facing dog

soap was losing all his inhibition, groaning loudly with each suck

every time he told you to switch to a new orientation, you showed him without fail, your skills

it was the bow pose that had made him release in your mouth, seeing how your hands were bound behind you pushed him far off the edge

"i'm cancelling the session with the other person. by the time i'm done, i want you fully naked and ready for me to fuck the shit out of you."

[sl4sh3rsub]

rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[aronkiepronkie]

I CANT STOP THINKNING ABOUT KENMA AS UR BF SOMEONE SEND HELP

bf kenma! who hates physical touch from everyone but you

bf kenma! who always preforms better when you're watching him in his matches

bf kenma! who doesn't like pda, but pinky holding is an exception

bf kenma! who prefers staying home and playing video games and eating junk food rather than taking you out

bf kenma! who lays his head on your lap and automatically falls asleep once you play with his hair

bf kenma! who teaches you how to play video games and plays minecraft with you

bf kenma! who will ignore you if he's jealous and waits for you to ask what's wrong, and quietly tell you what happened while avoiding eye contact

bf kenma! who gives you a small peck on the cheek as an apology if he does something you disapprove of

bf kenma! who copies off your paper work if he doesn't do it himself (90% of the time he doesn't)

bf kenma! who may have a blank expression, but his eyes are always full of adoration when he looks at you

bf kenma! who forgets to eat and gets embarrassed when you feed him yourself (after some nagging)

bf kenma! who likes putting his arm around your waist while holding his controller when you sit next to him while he's playing video games

bf kenma! who "accidentally" leaves his sweaters or tshirts at your house (he likes seeing you in his clothes) (he will never admit that to anyone)

bf kenma! who sucks with eye contact and gets pink in the face when you look at him for too long

bf kenma! who makes sure you're NEVER around kuroo because he's scared you'll end up liking him

bf kenma! who likes (needs) reassurance and compliments

bf kenma! who loves to fall asleep on your chest or thighs

bf kenma! who doesn't like spooning that much and just prefers to intertwine his legs with yours (unless he's feeling down, he does like to cuddle sometimes)

bf kenma! who shares earphones with you and will always listen to the music you like with no complaints

bf kenma! who rather listens to slow and quiet music or screamo music depending on his mood

bf kenma! who isn't much of a talker, prefers to listen to you yap about anything and everything, slipping in a "oh wow" "seriously??" "no way" or just repeating the last 5 words you said quietly

bf kenma! who loses so much hair in the summer as if he's shedding like a cat

bf kenma! who gets too shy to instigate a kiss, but that doesn't mean he won't kiss you back with as much passion as you give him

bf kenma! who doesn't really care what you do to him, do his makeup, draw on him, braid his hair, squish his cheeks, poke him, whatever lets him see that radiating smile of yours

bf kenma! who catches himself smiling when you do, or laughing quietly when you do, even if he has no idea what's going on

bf kenma! who loves you for who you are and is convinced you're his soulmate

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[satrs]

Truth or Dare ? ✦

SYNOPSIS; When you find yourself in an unexpected entanglement, you might as well try to pass your time with some truth or dare.

TAGS; ADULT CONTENT (18+). MDNI. unprotected intercourse. co-worker!nanami. dirty talk. size kink(?). risky s€x. bro's best friend!gojo. sexting. teasing. masturbation. stranger!toji. dirty talk. slight dumbification. car s€x. overstim. ex!sukuna. edging. clothed grinding.

FEATURING; Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Toji xfem!reader

WK;1.7k.

NANAMI KENTO ✦ TRUTH!

"This is ridiculous."

You huff out a small laugh at his comment, pushing your office chair next to him at the table, nudging him into the shoulder. "You're such a killjoy, nanami."

His light brows knit into an irritated expression, an exhausted huff of air leaving his lips. He just wants to go home.

But no, his boss had to assign him more papers to work overtime with his darling college, for that matter, and forgot to inform the other employees not to lock the office at the end of the corridor, that, unfortunately, you and him were busy working in.

So, when you both finished your exhausting work, ready to head off home, it sure was a surprise to find the door to your escape locked.

Sharp eyes snap to the watch on his wrist. Two more hours until the janitor shows up. Great. Two more hours of agony, trying to ignore the pulsating hard-on against his tight trousers.

"It's the questions, isn't it?" His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, neck craning into your direction.

You, dangling in your chair, eyes lit up as your orbs inspect the grumpy man next to you. "I knew it", you breathe out in defeat, head hanging low in thought. "Maybe we could spice them up a bit."

His lips form into a thin line, shaking his head in disapproval. "No way." And you miss the way a faint blush spreads from the tip of his nose to his cheeks as you sulk in your chair, disappointed.

Ah, man. He doesn't like it when you're all sulky and grumpy. That's his job. Alright then. Maybe he can play into your little game. He sighed in defeat before clearing his throat, turning to face you.

"Where's the riskiest place you've ever done it?"

You don't know how it happened. You just looked up at him, surprised by his answer. "Well, not in a stuffy office like this, that's for sure", you joked. But before you could catch your breath from your giggle, you found yourself on top of that very same desk you were just working on some time ago, legs spread, with the tall blonde hovering above you. His veiny hand grasping at his tie to loosen it, chest heaving. You feel heat rising up your body as his absent hand travels from your white blouse down to your clothed thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.

A shiver runs down your spine as his hand trails over every inch of your body, feeling you up through the barrier of clothes. His head bends down, face pressed into the crock of your neck, taking in your scent.

Moaning at the sensation, your delicate fingers tangle their way through his blonde locks as he trails kisses all over your neck, subconsciously rutting his hips into yours.

Before your mind can even register the teasing bite against your pulse, your skin shivers from the contact of cold air hitting it. Panties on display, wet patch formed at the middle with your trousers long forgotten somewhere on the floor. When did he-?

"You planned this out, didn't you?" His voice is dangerously low, almost a growl. Finger hooking into the waistband of your panties, flicking it against your skin mockingly. "Wanted me all over you all along."

It was evident that you long for him to fill you up, but fuck, he was no better. "Wish you could see yourself right now, pretty", his hands roam your body, quick to sneak one hand under your shirt, fondling your breast. "Shit. Teasing me with those tight pants of yours. Should've just asked me to give this needy cunt a treat." A swift slap to your clothed cunny follows his words, earning a gasp from your lips.

Biting back a moan, your grip on his hair tightens as his fingers strip you of your panties, swiftly freeing himself from the tightness of his trousers. He works quick, in all matters, sliding his tip, leaking of pre, through the wetness of your folds, spreading your juices all over.

Lewd. That's the word to describe the scene unfolding. Your moans echo in the room as his cock head nudges your clit, your legs wrapping around his hips instinctively.

He hums in content, aligning hit angry head to your puckering hole, groaning at the sight of your needy cunt clenching around nothing, cursing under his breath. "Easyyy, now", his other hand firmly holds your hips in place to stop you from squirming, "Running off already? I'm not even in yet, and you're already all worked up?"

You couldn't help but whine, walls contracting around the bulky tip. He sharply rams his length into your shivering cunt, quick to pick up a steady pace, pubic hair harshly brushing against your puffy clit. You might as well faint from his fastening pace, mind clouded in pleasure from the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Fuckin' hell, quit clenching. Can barely even m-move", nanami breathes out. Truth be told, he might burst a load right into your womb right now. Mind spinning from your tightening walls sucking him deeper and deeper into your hole.

Taking his frustration out on your pussy, he continues to bully his length into you over and over again, hissing at the snugness of your cave.

With each prodding against your sensitive spots, your breathing picked up, legs shaking as you near your release, you throw your head back in pleasure. "Nanamiiii, I-I'm gonna cum! Please don't s-stop!"

"What was that? Can't hear you over this slutty pussy", Cock abandoning your sloppy hole. "So damn needy." He groans, slapping his tip against your puffy folds as you shriek in response.

With one quick glance at the clock he groans, bottoming out inside of you again. "We got one more hour darling," Nanamis eyes flutter shut, fast to pick up where he left off, "Gotta make the most out of it. "

SATORU GOJO ✦ DARE!

'Hey. You up? Where are you hiding your sweets? Your bro is asleep and I can't find any ;('

A frustrated groan escapes you as you read the message. It does come in handy to have the number of your big brother's best friend sometimes, but that guy sure was a handful.

Just like right now. Satoru is sleeping over at your place at this very moment. But instead of occupying himself in his friend's room, he figured to bother his little sister - you.

'Top shelve behind the cornflakes. Now leave me be.'

You look into the direction of the bluish light coming from your nightstand, taking your phone in hand, only to let out an annoyed huff of air.

Jerk:

'I'm bored. You up for truth or dare?'

Curiosity getting the better of you, you agree, sitting up on your bed, waiting for him to type out the awaited question.

Once he does you think, thumb hovering above the keyboard before you type out your answer.

'Dare.'

He smiles to himself as he reads over the words, the dim light of the bathroom illuminating his figure. Yeah, sure, he was bored. But the prominent bulge against his gray sweatpants say otherwise.

Satoru types in his dare not long after, not even hesitating to send it, eyes preying on the three dots at the corner of his screen, hard length pulsating inside his pants.

Jerk:

'I dare you to send me nudes ;)'

Well, this took a dark turn quickly. Your eyes scan over the message over an over again in disbelief, heart throbbing in your chest as you think of a possible comeback to type out, the same three dots appearing and disappearing from his screen over and over, a sly smirk spreading across his handsome face. "Gotcha."

Fighting with your own mind, you decide to walk right into his trap, panties growing damp at the thought of him pleasuring himself to your pictures. You quickly hop out of your shorts before you position yourself on the bed, phone capturing the sinful sight of your exposed cunt, fingers pushing your flimsy panties to the side, tight hole on full display.

Viewing the two blue ticks, you smile to yourself. Now you finally shut him up for good. Before you could set your phone to the side, another message pops up. To your surprise, your plan failed.

Jerk:

*1 image attached*

'Your turn now.'

Amused, your eyes glue to the visibly huge bulge against his sweats, his big hand pressing his hard-on through the piece of clothing. He was in the bathroom, you could make that out from the terribly lit picture and the ceramic bathtub in the background. Excitement rushes through your body as your hand slowly sneaks into your panties.

It's almost absurd, a childish game you're playing into, but it was still extremely thrilling. Satoru was just a few steps apart from you, he could easily sneak into your room and play this game of his face to face with you.

But he didn't. He was always one to love to thrill and tease the living hell out of you. He just never thought it would bite him back in the ass.

With a lip cadged between your teeth, you type out a question, giving into his wish of 'truth', the other hand drawing teasing circles against your clit.

'How bad you want to fuck me?'

"Fuckkkk", he whispers a curse under his breath, dick already heavy in his hand as he pumps his fist tightly on his erected member.

“So bad. Sososo bad” he whispers, words coming out as a quiet whimper as he fucks his fist desperately, almost drooling at the mouth has he imagined pounding his fat cock into you.

“Shit, such a cute pussy. Want to feel you so bad” he’s a blabbering mess at this point, talking to himself as if you could hear him.

Jerk:

‘Real bad. Want to feel your cunny squeezing the life out of me’

Shameless, that’s what he is. But he really couldn’t care less, high of the lustful thoughts clouding his mind.

A quiet moan escapes you at his answer, finger buried into your cunt, imagining it to be his fat cock instead.

His fist tightens around his pulsing cock, threatening to bust his load any second from now, his eyes glued to the picture of your drenched cunt, various scenarios playing inside his head.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” He nears his release soon, spurting all over his abdomen, quick to snap a picture of the nasty aftermath.

Jerk:

*1 picture attached*

You audibly gasp as the picture lit your screen, your eyes glued to the white, ropey cum smeared all across his hefty length and abdomen, little droplets of sweat glistening against his sculptured body.

Thighs squeezing together around your hand, heat rises up your body as your breathing picks up. “God, fuck.”

Contemplating to get up and just fuck him in the bathroom, not giving two shits about your brother sleeping at the end of the corridor, you're quick to sit up at the edge of your bed, heart thumping in your chest as yet another message lights up your screen.

Jerk:

'Come clean it up ?'

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✦ TRUTH!

"Up for a lil game, pretty? Ya look real bored sittin' here all alone."

Your head turns to the strange man next to you, viridescent eyes matching his raven hair. He crocks his head in question, swirly the liquor inside his hand, scanning your face for an answer.

"Sure, why not", you huff out, taking a sip from your martini. "Watcha got in mind, handsome?" He's right, you are alone. Well, you got ditched, to be exact.

This should've been a cute little date with that guy you've been fancying for a minute, only for him to cancel ten minutes before your agreed meeting.

Trying to lift your spirit, you decided to go inside the bar anyway, whatever the night brings you, they say. You didn't expect that to be a handsome strange, but who are you to complain?

He smirks at that, downing his drink, gaze never wavering. "Truth or dare, hun'?" Placing his glass down onto the bar counter, he chuckles at your answer.

"Truth, huh? Thought ya'd be one to take some risks."

"We'll see", you tease, mimicking his cheeky grin. "So? You can ask me anything, don't hold back."

A chuckle rang your ear, followed be a content hum. "Anything, yeah? Alright then." He places his arm on the counter, head resting in his palm, emerald hues fixated on you.

"Have you ever been fucked by a real man?"

Surprised, you blink, breathing out a laugh in disbelief. "Yeah, fuck do you mean?", you snap back, drowning the rest of the liquor in one go before placing it back onto the wooden table.

He returns your question with a snicker, finger playing with the outline of his glass, "Nah, I don't think yer hear what 'm sayin', sweetie."

"Ya get it now, doll?" The windows of his car are clouded from the hot air, the sinful sound of him, drilling his hips into your ass, continuously filling the small space.

"Fuckin' hell, doll. Sure, ya not a virgin?" His chuckle is cut short by a growl. A sob escapes you at his teasing, hand flying back in an attempt to slow his movements. "'s too much!", you wail, his hand pushing your head further into the leather seat, new arch inviting him even deeper into you.

"Too much? Yer slutty pussy says otherwise, just listen to her." Your hole elicits a crude squelch around his length, causing your eyes to roll behind your skull.

Toji leans down, body now pressed into yours, pushing you further into the seats. A strangled cry comes from your lips, the new position causing your mouth to hang open, drool smearing across the dark seats.

"Awww, already gone dumb on me, pretty?" His rough hand manages to hook onto your clit, relentlessly flicking the poor bud while his hips continue to bruise your insides, his hefty tip nudging against spots you didn't even know existed.

Groaning into the crook of your neck, his brows knit at your walls, snugly clinging to him like a vice. You soon cum with a loud cry, instinctively milking his cock.

"Keep doin' that shit, and I might fall in love." His brave facade cracks after those words, snapping his hips only harder into you, chasing his release, a mixture of moans and groans echoing off the small space.

"F-fuck", he hushes against your neck, sweat adoring the both of you with a glistening essence. "Uh huh, keep squeezin' me like that. Finna fill yer cunny up and plug it right up."

You can only respond with a weak moan, juices forming a sticky ring at his base, dripping down onto the seats. He places a quick kiss to your temple, movement of his hips flattering.

"Yeahhh. Sounds good."

SUKUNA RYOMEN ✦ DARE!

"I dare you to sit still on my lap."

“Y-You’re kidding, right?” You try to brush it off with an awkward laugh, the loud music from the party faintly creaking through the door.

“Do I look like I’m fucking joking to you?” He almost pops a vein, irritated by your answer. His hand pats his clothed thigh once, twice, sharp crimson eyes of his never leaving yours, “You know damn well you want to. So, sit.”

The alarm bells ring inside your head and you mentally slap yourself because, what the hell were you thinking? Just because your friends decided it would be a good idea to lock the both of you inside the bathroom didn't mean you had to give into their playful intentions.

And what the hell was he thinking? Asking you so shamelessly, after your intense breakup two months ago. The vivid memory is still prominent inside your mind but, fuck. His lap just looks so damn inviting.

Sukuna was never one to be good with words. So why not test the waters and find out what his actions lead to?

Biting back a snarky remark, you slowly stroll to where he was seated. Admiring his sitting figure, leaned against the bathroom door, your heart begins to thump inside your chest rapidly.

A big grin showing his canines on display. He's quick to wet his lips with his tongue, eyes watching your every move.

"Why yer all shy now, baby?", his hand finds comfort at the curve of your hip, and you just want to gag at the familiar pet name. "Ain't the first time you sit all pretty on me." He turns your head in search of your eyes.

You're hesitant, clearing your throat as heat bubbles up in your tummy. You could feel his all too familiar rock hard cock, even through your clothes. This close, you examine his handsome features, eyes scanning over his various tattoos, black ink decorating his face.

Sukuna hums in amusement, firmly grinding your hips down onto his erection, groaning at the friction. The hand on your cheek sneaks to the back of your neck, urging your face mere inches from his, "Let's drop the facade, yeah?" His teeth cage your bottom lip swiftly before it plops back into place. "I know pussy 's missed this dick."

Your eyes drop to his lips, every sane thought falling onto deaf ears as you nod mindlessly. "Uh huh."

A victorious smirk plastered onto his handsome face, his fingers tighten around your neck. "There's my girl." He smashes his lips against yours, guiding your hips harder against his, groaning into your mouth.

A lewd cry elicit from your lips once his hand travels upwards and into your shirt, giving your tit a firm squeeze. "Shh, shh, baby. Yer gonna outdo the music", a chuckle erupts from his chest, quickly cut off by your pussy steadily grinding against his covered cock head.

Don't want them to hear yer all slutty for yer exes dick, do ya now?", he teases, his hand abandoning your neck to place a harsh smack against your rear.

Burying your head into his shoulder to hide your moans, you speed up your movements, hazy mind clouded with him, just him. You can feel yourself nearing your release, the knot inside your stomach tightening with each movement of your hips.

"Bet yer pussy 's fuckin drenched." His hair is messy, breathing turning shorter and shorter, greedy hands sneaking into your pants, gripping your naked flesh roughly.

"k-kunaaa! S-so close! 'm gonna c-cummm!" , you whimper, arms wrapped around his neck, adored by black ink. "Yer not gonna do shit, girl." A warning. Sharp eyes boring holes into yours as he halts your hips firmly in his hold.

You whine in protest, in need of any form of relief, desperately attempting to grind your sobbing cunt against him. "p.please. Need it, need you."

Sniggering at you, he captures your lips in another messy kiss, earning a mewl from you as his sharp fangs graze your lips.

"Still the same old needy girl I know." One hand freeing his raging length, aligning it against your exposed tummy, your shirt rode up slightly from his previous assault.

Sukuna smirks. "See that?", he questions, fat cock head easily reaching your belly button, "See how full yer gonna get, baby? Need that, reallll bad, huh?"

He snorts a laugh at your eager nod, drunk off the pleasure. How cute, he thinks to himself. This party didn't turn out that boring after all.

Licking his lips before, he places yet another smack to your ass, urging you to lift your hips. "Then get yer pretty ass to work and remind me how good your pussy feels 'round me."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[nightlyrequiem]

So I was thinking about this for a while but, what if the reader is Valeria's ex wife that had been together for almost a decade (dating included) and as a result the 141 and Los Vaqueros basically come snooping around their house searching for answers and interrogates them, hoping that they would help but realizes that's it's a dead end because Valeria always shielded them from anything that she did.

Oooh interesting concept 😍

So interesting that I kind of didn’t know what to do. I wrote an outline, changed the ending, then changed the ending again. Little bit of a challenge but challenges are a good thing 🫶

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Violence, 141-Vaqueros Appearance, Very Minor Angst

Interrogation

Promising forever doesn't actually guarantee forever. Valeria has come to learn this. A thick bitterness has coated her heart in your absence. Eating away at the organ like an acidic parasite. It's been years since your divorce, but Valeria still misses you deeply. You took something from her when you left and she knows she'll never get it back. The worst part is, she can't even really blame you for leaving. For the majority of your long relationship  she was dishonest about who she was and what she did. You eventually put the pieces together, even if the picture was never whole, and figured out she wasn't good. Valeria tried to spare you as many details as she could. Knowledge is power but ignorance is safety. To your credit, you had tried to make it work. However it proved to be too much for you. The danger, the lies, the late nights. You served her the papers and left soon after.

The divorce wasn't easy on you either. You spent just shy of ten years with Valeria. Building a life with her only to find she wasn't who she said she was. A house built on a weak foundation is doomed to collapse, and leaving her was one of the hardest things you've done but you couldn't stand it anymore. Couldn't stand wondering if she'd walk back through that door each night. The moral implications were eating at you as well. Whatever it was she was doing was bad enough for her to not tell you.

It's another lonely night in your apartment. The silence feels mocking. It's one of the rarer nights where you don't have music or the TV playing. Just you in your chair with a book you've already read. You struggle to focus. Having to reread the same paragraph twice because you're just not absorbing the words at hand. Leaving Valeria was the right thing, you tell yourself. But life is so... quiet without her. A heavy knock on the door interrupts your thoughts and you realise that you yet again didn't actually read anything. Sighing, you put the book down and get up. Your legs and back are sore from sitting in the same position for too long. You silently walk towards the door and peer out through the glazed window. Making out the shapes of men.  

The sight makes your skin prickle, but you unlock the deadbolt - not the chain - and pull open your door, wincing as the hinges cry out in protest.

"Can I help you?" You ask quietly, brows pulled low. You see there are five men in total, all clad in military gear.

"Hello ma'am, mind if we come in for a few moments? We have a few questions for you." The blond one asks. There's something about his voice you don't like. Under that American accent is something smug and violent, like he's used to getting his way.

"Um... no thank you." You respond. Like hell you're letting five strange men into your home.

"It won't take long, it's about a woman." The one with the mohawk speaks. You're caught off guard because this one has a Scottish lilt to his voice. Looking closer, you see a little British flag sewn onto the chest of his vest. His friend beside him has one sewn onto his as well, contrasting with the light blue button up.

"No, sorry."

"Her name is Valeria Garza." He continues, looking you dead in the eyes. You stiffen at the name. Fearing the worst. Has she been caught? Is she dead? You're torn between slamming the door and letting them in.

The latter wins and you unlatch the chain, slowly pulling open the door to face them.

"... What about her?" You ask carefully.

"Why don't we come in to discuss this, huh?" The blond man pushes his way in before you can protest. Putting you off greatly. The others follow suit like sheep to their shepherd. The blond man looks around, eyes raking over your home. He turns that blue gaze back to you. "So, to my knowledge you were... close to Valeria."

"I... suppose so." You reply. Close isn't enough to describe what you had. A roaring forest fire that died out too quickly.

"You used to visit her often, back when she was still in the special forces." One of the other men pipes up. He has the saddest downturned eyes you've ever seen on a human, but his voice is firm.

Everyone is looking at you. You don't like their scrutiny. Like you did something wrong.

"...Yeah? So?" You internally facepalm at the defensiveness in your voice. These men are dogs and they'll pick up on it.

"Well, according to some official government documents, you two used to be married." The blond says. Smug, like he caught you in a lie. You have the strongest urge to punch him in the throat. Or maybe give him a new facial scar.

"We were married for a few years, yeah." You say. Voice strong because you're not ashamed or embarrassed. "We divorced a while ago though."

"Why?" The man leans forward, beady eyes narrowed.

You hesitate. "She never made any time for me." You say. That and you never actually knew her.

The blond looks over to one of the men at the back.

"Alejandro, you're familiar with Valeria and by extension her wife-"

"-Ex wife." You correct.

"-Help me out here."

The man, Alejandro, comes forward. Hands held onto his vest. His gaze is severe and alight with a distaste that makes your skin prickle. "What did Valeria do for a living?" He asks. The way he asks tells you he already knows.

"She ran a business."

"What kind of business?"

"I don't know."

He raises a thick brow. "You don't know?"

"No." You grit out. "I don't know, she never told me."

"And you didn't think to ask?"

You frown at him. Obviously you asked. Many times. 

"Okay. I did ask. She wouldn't tell me." You snap. "Why are you bothering me about my ex-wife? I haven't even spoken to her in years."

The blond man shoulders past Alejandro. "So you didn't know about her connection to the cartel?" He asks.

"No-"

"You didn't know your wife was a narco?" He presses, drawing closer.

"No I didn't know-"

"You didn't think to question where her wealth came from? I bet the ring she got you was nice and pricey."

It was. A shiny, sturdy diamond ring. It makes you feel a little unwell that it might've been paid for with blood.

"I don't know anything." You growl. "Are you even allowed to do this? Barge into my home without a warrant? I think you need to leave."

"We're just trying to get all our facts straight." Alejandro replies. You focus your glare on him.

"Go get your facts from someone else. Leave." To your surprise, they do. They turn and walk right back out your door and you slam it behind them.

A few hours later there's another knock on your door. Setting your nerves on fire. You're still unsettled by the impromptu visit from those men. You get up from your spot at the table and check out the peephole, expecting to see them again. It's Valeria who is darkening your doorstep this time. A stony look set upon her features. You debate not opening the door. You don't really want to see her much either. However, you know Valeria and she knows you. She won't be leaving until she gets what she wants. The door creaks open, deadbolt and chain unlocked.

"What do you want?" You surprise yourself with the hostility. You are rattled by the men and they were only here because of her. Therefore, in your mind, she's to blame for you being unhappy.

"We need to talk." She says. Pushing past you and entering your home uninvited. Seems to be the trend this evening.

You close the door and turn to her, feeling annoyed.

"I think everything that needed to be said was said a long time ago."

"It's not about that." She stands in the hall menacingly, backlit by a lamp. "You had visitors today. What did they want?"

"Oh so you're stalking me now?" You snap.

"What did they want?" She repeats sharply. "What did you tell them?"

"I didn't tell them anything. I don't know anything because you never fucking told me!" You feel angry. More than that. All Valeria did was hide things from you and stress you out. Now she's waltzing into your home like you owe her anything.

Valeria turns away, trying to reel in her temper.

"I was protecting you." She grits out. 

"Some good that did, huh?" You reply sardonically.

She glares at you. "Are you injured or in jail?" She scoffs. "No, I didn't think so."

"No but because of your actions I had five men force their way into my home and interrogate me about you, practically accusing me of working with you."

The room goes quiet.

"... I'm in the cartel." She says. You roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I guessed."

"No, I'm really in it. High ranking, powerful." Valeria says firmly. "While you were waiting up for me at home, I was killing people trafficking drugs."

A response dies on your tongue. In a way, you always knew. To hear her admit to it is both cathartic and devastating. "... Why are you telling me now?"

Valeria's frown softens into a more familiar look. "Because you deserve to know." She says. "Did they hurt you at all?"

"No." You reply. But you didn't exactly feel safe. "They were a little... intense. It upset me."

Valeria looks at you for a few moments then nods stiffly.

"Okay." Is all she says before she's gone again. Leaving a messy pile of conflicting feelings in her wake. You catch a whiff of her perfume as she passes by you, and it reminds you of late morning cuddled in bed. She's stuck to the same scent since you two met. Nine and a half years spent together and now you're strangers. Yet you know what her go to scent is, that she doesn't like lettuce, the exact shade of the pink she paints her nails, when she got her first tattoo. The story behind each and every scar. You shut the door, cutting her off from your view.

Alejandro steps outside for a quick smoke break. leaving behind the lights and the noise. As he lights his smoke he spots a figure, barely illuminated by the yellow lights spilling from the canteen. It starts walking towards him. The lack of a greeting unnerves him and he shifts his hand to rest on his holster.

"Nice night, eh?" He calls out. No response. The figure steps out of the dark and he stiffens at the sight of short dark hair and narrow features. He unholsters his pistol. What is she doing here?

She stops abruptly and looks at him. Distaste evident on her face.

"I'm all for playing your little cat and mouse game but leave my loved ones out of it."

He frowns at her. Sizing her up for any visible weapons. "This is about the visit we paid to your ex wife."

"You did more than visit." She replies dangerously. "Don't speak to her again. Don't bother her again. Don't even visualize her again. I will kill every single one of your men and women, and then I will go after their families."

"What are you-" 

Alejandro doesn't get to finish his sentence as the canteen behind him explodes. The sound bursting his eardrums and sending him flying forward.

Beneath the ringing he's able to recognize confused shouting and pained screaming. A hand grabs ahold of his hair and yanks. Pulling loose a few strands. Valeria stares at him with absolute hatred.

"Our word is our worth, cowboy," She whispers. "so take my word for it."

[shaisuki]

Hello!

I'm in looooveeee with ur work <3

So I wanted to ask if you could do a fic about yandere toji who kidnapped chubby darling... but still degrades her....and after chubby darling has had enough, she lashes out on him. He punishes her (　＾ω＾)

and chubby darling escapes the first chance she gets to do so ( i would love a scene where darling tries to fight toji off!! )

I love your works ♡♡♡

Thanks for reading this !

Byee (^-^)/

(*ゝω･*)

there isn't a way to fight someone like toji.

he was built for the violence and anything that entails with it. killing someone is easy as ripping a paper and toji with his reputation as an assassin didn't sit with you well. knowing you were in his grasp with no way out.

since the day where he introduced you to your new home, it was hell. you were the outlet for his frustrations while you played the dutiful role of a housewife. a warm meal served to him when he comes home while he earns the cold cash. a clean home that devoid of any dirt and unwashed laundry that would had last for days without you and a pussy for him to warm his cock whenever he wants it and a body to use as an outlet for his frustrations.

the first time you showed resistance to him, you ended up with a sore ass that if he took it even further you'll end up with blistered skin from how harsh the spanking was and from how rough he was when he took you.

it was a warning to never do it again and if you did it again, you were dead meat long time ago. you didn't resist after that and you played along to his whims that it almost drove you crazy. you're not going to get chummy from a assassin who took you away from home. never.

doesn't mean that you never counted the days, crossing out the dates in the calendar will you ever be free to him.

sweat trickled down your forehead when you hear the front door open. his steps heavy and dull thud can be heard. you never pry what his bag contains. it was not your business and you don't want to be involved in whatever shady dealings he had.

you listened for a moment. toji can be unpredictable at times. sometimes when he lost in his gambling, he'll come home with that irritating look on his face and he calls for you. telling you to put him in a good mood and you never say anything and you take it with your lips sealed and movements that was almost robotic. it's only temporary is what you console yourself.

a shiver went down your spine when you felt toji's presence behind you. it feels like he wasn't almost there that's what got you here in the first place. you didn't see him coming. “what're you doin' princess.” you ignored him. biting the inside of your cheek to avoid any remarks that you will regret.

the brute of a man ignored your silence and his eyes travels to the sundress you wore. fitting like a glove to your plush body. “looking pretty, dressing up for someone?” he sneers. cupping your sex behind you, his breath fanning your round cheek. you try not to wince.

“as if you'll let me go outside to meet someone.” you bite your tongue after that but you realize it's too late. well, might as continue it. say the things you'll get punished for.

a almost wheeze escapes through your lips. your hands scratching his arm but despite that, he remains unfazed. trying to pry his hands off you that is wrapping around your throat. it was enough to choke you without much cutting your air supply.

toji's voice were gravelly as he spoke. shaking his head in a manner that he can't believe what he was seeing and hearing. “you still have the fire in you and i thought you lost it after shaping you to be my own personal bitch.”

“fuck you.” a choked gasp coming from you when he tightens his grip around your throat. “i'll never submit to someone like you.” wincing as you see the veins in his arms bulge and you were really pissing him off.

toji licks his lips. dragging to where his scar is. “oh, really?” he snarls. his eyes darkening like he wants to kill. his bloodlust was all over and you can feel it. “let me see if i won't make you submit by doing thi–”

shards of glass came clattering on the cold floor. your hands came scrambling to whatever stuff it can get on and the vase was the first thing you had grabbed and without hesitation you slammed it to the side of his forehead. blood trickles where he was struck and it wasn't for toji to keel over. he only looks at you, annoyed like it wasn't a damage to be hit with a vase. this man took bullets and stab wounds and won't be alone defeated by being slammed with a vase.

angered by your action, with a strength that was easy for him, he slammed you to the cold marbled table of the kitchen that it almost cracked at the impact. you let out a cough. trying to get much air as you can. your air being cut off by being almost strangled let your mind forced to survived of possible scenarios to help you escape the danger you were in and without thinking, you kicked him hard as you can between his legs.

that loosens his grasp into you and giving him no more to recover, your eyes darts to the toaster resisting. it's funny how you look at it, and you doubt it can damage him further but it was better than nothing. you raised your arms holding the toaster and gathering all the anger you have for him and then slamming it behind his back. you hear him curse and without turning back, you ran.

grabbing a small bag that you prepared when push comes to shove and this was the time. after hastily putting your shoes on. you ran like the wind after slamming the door behind you.

without turning back and going for the nearest bus stop and with that, tears streamed down your face. not bothering the odd looks bystanders were giving you. cause for the first time you were free. free from that hell hole and yo his grasp. you ain't going back here and going to the farthest you only know.

this must be the taste of freedom and for the first time, you can breathe.

[fuctacles]

"You said you weren't dating"

Happy New Year @stevesjockstrap <3 I'm sorry this is late, this is def not what you (or I) had in mind and I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, I will coontinue this soon :')

Also fill for my @fourormore bingo "Didn't know they were dating"

Ships: Corroded Coffin, Steve/Gareth | 2.6k | M | CC living together (AND THEY WERE ROOMMMATES), pre-relationship, Jealousy, Jealous and confused Eddie, confused Steve, some flavor of a/demi-sexuality happening

"Gaaaareeeeeth!"

"Eeeeedieeeeeeeee!"

Jeff sighs. Every day he questions his choice in friends. Did he really have to pick the ones that use echolocation to find each other? It's not like the apartment is that big anyway. 

Eddie jumps off the last few steps with a thud, and not for the first time, he worries one day he's going to break a leg doing so. And how a lead guitarist on a wheelchair will look in a metal band?

"Could you not jump like that?" he asks, knowing full well it will have no impact on Eddie's behaviour. But at least his conscience will be silent. 

"I could, but where's the fun in that?" Eddie grins at him as he passes, trying to pat his head but Jeff ducks out of the way. He just started growing it out. 

"Yeah, walking in a cast will be hella fun too," he mumbles, but gets completely ignored as Eddie has already entered the kitchen. 

"What is it that I'm hearing of you hogging the garage this Thursday?" he asks as soon as he sees Gareth.

His answer is a loud sniffle and a choked voice. 

"What's it to you? I just need it."

Eddie furrows his brows, suddenly worried.

"You okay, man?"

But as he steps closer he can see it's just the loads of onions Gareth's been trying to chop all by himself. He rolls his eyes. 

"Outta the way, nerd," he commands as he hip-checks his friend away from the counter. "Wash your hands and face, I don't want no snot in my food."

Gareth snorts softly, but goes to the sink to do as he was told. 

"You have at least three extra pairs of hands on deck, you should learn how to use them," Eddie half-heartedly scolds him.

"I know, I know," Gareth groans like an exasperated teenager, making Eddie smile. He was the youngest of the group and sometimes fell into that role way too easily.

"So, what do you need the garage for that doesn't involve your band? Working on a solo project already?" Eddie tries prying again. He can already feel the sting of his eyes, but keeps chopping. 

Gareth hums. 

"Yes and no," he says eventually. "It is a solo project, but I'm doing it with another person."

Eddie turns to him, blinking slowly while a singular tear rolls down his cheek. 

"What?"

His friend tears off a paper towel to dab at his face.

"I saw an ad that someone is looking for a musician to help with a personal project. And I answered it," he explains simply. 

Eddie leans away from his touch, his eyes wide in shock. 

"You're inviting a stranger into our metal haven to play their boring personal shit?" 

"Yes," Gareth deadpans. "Well, I haven't met him yet, so I don't know how boring it is. I just thought it would be fun to do something different."

"What's wrong with our thing?" Eddie bristles. 

"Nothing?" Gareth frowns. "I just wanted to try something else?"

"Traitor!" his guitarist slams the knife on the counter. "Betrayer of bands! Of sacred blood brother bond!" he seethes, escaping the kitchen. 

Gareth sighs. 

"You never did the blood pact," he murmurs to himself. He grabs the abandoned knife to drop it into the sink. At least all the onion has been chopped. 

"Hey, Gar?" Doug enters the kitchen with a confused frown. "Why is Eddie crying and telling me you're ditching us for some guy?"

===

It's Thursday and Eddie is seething. Faint sound of drums is coming from the garage, short, sharp, and unprofessional. Why is Gareth wasting his time on this guy? He didn't even come through the front door to properly introduce himself. What a jerk.

"Are you gonna just sit there like that?" Jeff asks him with a raised eyebrow, spotting him as he flies down the stairs. 

"He has to come up here at some point," Eddie roundaboutly answers that 'yes, absolutely'.

"And what then?" Jeff crosses his arms. "You're gonna give him a shovel talk? For paying our drummer for music lessons?"

Eddie's eyes widen.

"He's paying him?" 

"Obviously?" his friend scoffs.

"Gareth's a whore," Eddie gasps in mortified realization. 

Jeff shakes his head with a tired sigh, heading for the door.

"Honestly, you could follow his example, the rent isn't going to pay itself," he says, lacing up his boots.

"I am looking!" Eddie seethes.

"And I," Jeff stands back up and throws on his jacket. "Am off to work. Look harder." He salutes his friend before going out.

Eddie shakes his middle finger at the closed door. But then, he deflates. Jeff is right, he hasn't been very successful in finding a job, but he didn't want to do something that was completely meaningless and sucked the joy out of his soul. Nevertheless, he grabs the freshest issue of the local paper and flips it to the ad section.

At the very least it's a good pass-time for his stake-out mission.

His willing a pen to fly into his hand when the basement door opens to the sound of laughter.

"—all wrapped up in the shower curtain, yelling for me to kill a spider. He—Oh, hi Eddie! This is our lead guitar, Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

Eddie gapes at his friend and the stranger in his house. 

Well, not exactly a stranger. Everybody from his year, and his second year, and half of his third year, knew of Steve fucking Harrington. The one and the same now waggling his fingers at him with an awkward smile. 

"Hi," he says like he hasn't been tainting Eddie's drummer with his whole jock thing.

"You're telling him our story," he goes ignored so Eddie can seethe with accusations at his friend. 

"Yeah?" Gareth raises an eyebrow at him. "I have half the rights to it?" he points out. He motions to Steve. "Bathroom is right under the staircase."

"Thanks," Steve skitters away, relieved to be out of eyesight. 

Eddie is ready to tear Gareth a new one about telling a random guy the story he always tells, but he's beaten to it by his friend's furious glare.

"Why are you rude to him?" he grits out quietly so his voice doesn't carry all the way to the bathroom. "He's our guest."

"He's your guest," Eddie corrects. "I didn't invite him."

"Well, he's also paying me to come up with music for his songs, so you could at least not make him leave and find a friendlier place to do so."

Eddie scoffs. 

"And what are these songs about? Boobs and parties?"

Gareth takes a fleeting glance at the bathroom door, before hurrying to the couch to lean over it and get closer to Eddie.

"They are actually so depressing, dude," he whispers. "Like, I'm kind of worried about the guy."

"I'm kind of not believing you," Eddie pulls a skeptical face. 

"Remember the song Jeff wrote after Toffee died? They're all like that."

"Oh shit."

The bathroom doors open and they jump away from each other so they wouldn't look like they were whispering behind his back.

"Hi, uh," Eddie swallows his pride for the time being. "Sorry for being a dick, guess I just don't like when someone steals my favorite drummer." He shrugs with an awkward smile.

Steve, thank gods, laughs good-naturedly. 

"Ah no worries. I promise I'll give him back in perfect condition."

He smiles, but not at Eddie, at Gareth, who gives an awkward chuckle. Eddie looks between them, the interaction blasting alarm bells in his head. 

"Want something to drink?" Gareth ask his paying guest. 

"Oh I'm parched." The infuriating smile, no, a smirk, turns up a notch. 

Suddenly, Eddie loathes the idea of these two being out of public eye for even a second. 

===

"Okay, but like, why a drummer?"

Doug shrugs.

"Because it's a less popular, in demand instrument? It's easy to find a guitar," he pointedly motions to the three of them. 

"But why—"

"Eds!" Jeff interrupts him with annoyance in his voice. "Because Steve offered to pay and Gareth answered the ad? It's quite simple."

Eddie bites his lip. He's running out of reasonable arguments on why he doesn't like that his friend is hanging one on one behind closed doors with a former king of jocks. 

"So you guys are okay with that?" he asks, a bit petulantly. When only silence answers him, he looks around his friends. They're both crossing their arms with a sour expression. He raises his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Not really," admits Doug. 

"Yeah, no," agrees Jeff. 

Doug uncrosses his arms only to cross them the other way.

"I just don't— I'm not angry that he took an extra gig."

"I'm kind of proud, actually," Jeff pipes up. 

"Yeah," Doug nods. "But I don't trust Steve. He gives off this vibe like he's going to snatch Gareth from us at any moment, which is ridiculous," he snorts. "But it's how it feels."

"I can see that, yeah," Eddie nods eagerly, relieved that he's not the only one to feel weird about this thing. "I just don't like how he looks at Gareth, like he's just..."

"Like he's another person to bend to his will."

"Yeah, with this prince charming smile of his!"

"Yeah!" 

"What if he's an evil sorcerer—"

"—a wannabe bard with maxed out Charisma—"

"Oh yeah, yeah, totally—!"

They cut off suddenly when the garage door opens. 

"Hi, guys!"

Eddie squints with distrust at Steve's Prince Charming smile. 

"Hi, Steve."

"Mind if I..." He motions towards the bathroom."

"Not at all, be our guest. Want something to drink?" 

Both Eddie and Jeff glare at Doug after his offer. 

"Oh, if you have some tea, that would be nice." Steve rubs his neck in a very un-jock way. Probably to lower their defenses. "I didn't know singing dries your mouth this much," he chuckles awkwardly. 

"You sing?" Eddie raises his eyebrow in surprise. 

"Well, I'm trying to."

"And he's doing it really good," Gareth picks up, emerging from the basement as well. He pushes Steve gently towards the bathroom, and he goes with a small laugh.

Eddie doesn't like this familiarity between them. When he looks around, the others don't seem thrilled either. 

"Speaking of," Gareth slumps between his friends on the couch, seemingly unaware of the energy in the room. "I'd like him to use his voice properly, but he's hella self conscious you'll hear him, so could you leave for a bit next week?"

His friends gape at him.

"Just an hour," he adds.

"You want us..."

"...to leave our house..."

"...so Harrington can abduct you and steal our gear?"

Everyone turns to look at Eddie.

"Okay, man, I think you're exaggerating, just a little bit."

"I admit he makes me a bit paranoid," he crosses his arms, scrunching his nose in distaste. 

"Guys, don't be assholes," Gareth sighs. "He's a cool guy, I think we even could be friends."

Now everyone's eyes turn to him.

"We are your friends," Jeff points out. He's offended, aghast. Eddie nods vigorously to show he's also offended and aghast. 

"I can't have an extra friend outside of the band?" Gareth crosses his arms, his expression turning stormy. 

"You can," Doug hurries to placate him. "But you know how he's been in high school."

"High school was years ago," he points out. "He's chill now."

The door to the bathroom open and everyone go silent. Steve, caught under their stares, seems to shrink in on himself. 

"I'll wait in the garage," he points to the door before skittering off. 

Gareth turns back to his bandmates, arms falling at his sides with a sigh.

"You don't have to trust him, but you could trust me, at least."

They're silent for a beat, until Jeff sighs and nudges him in the arm. 

"You're right, sorry. We'll give you guys some space."

"For the vocal lessons," Doug adds, like there was anything else they could be talking about. "I'll go make that tea." He stands up to make a tactical escape to the kitchen.

Gareth turns to Eddie, the last one to say anything. 

"Fine!" he throws his hands in the air with a pained expression. "But only because you're using," he makes a vague gesture in Gareth's general direction. "Those eyes of yours."

"Eyes of mine?" his friend seems amused, for better or worse.

"Ugh, you know what I'm talking about!" Eddie stands up and storms off to his room, followed by confused stares.

"He'll come around," Jeff pats Gareth's knee. 

"I fucking hope so."

====

"He said an hour," Eddie points out for the fifth time, while fishing for his set of keys. 

"Pretty much he didn't mean one hour from the moment you leave."

"Yeah, more like an hour of their actual session."

"Well, he didn't specify, so that's on him," Eddie scoffs, before triumphantly pulling out the keys from the pocket he's already searched. 

They open the door and push each other inside to escape the chilly winter air as soon as possible. 

Eddie, being the first to stumble into the foyer slash corridor amalgamation opening into their living room, gasps. Someone else makes a startled sound, Jeff bumps into him, and they almost trip when the full picture in front of them gains clarity. 

Gareth leaning against Steve Harrington, lips bruised from kisses and hair sticking out at weird angles, the other's hand on his hip. He quickly pushes it off and backs away form Steve. 

"Why are you guys back so early?" he bristles at his friends. 

"Apparently to catch you cheating?!" Eddie yells out, scrambling out of his jacket because the sudden spike in anger made him feel like he was boiling from the inside. 

Steve's head snaps towards Gareth. 

"You said you weren't dating."

"We're not!" he groans, tired and exasperated. "Eddie is just being dramatic."

"I'm dramatic?!"

"Yes!"

"I think you should leave, Steve," Doug pipes up, falsely calm. His voice is unsteady, when he speaks, so Jeff sends him a cursory glance to find him just looking sad. Betrayed, even.

"Yeah. Leave, Steve," Eddie picks up happily.

Steve looks to Gareth, and he gives him a nod. 

"I've got this. I'll see you later."

"Okay," Steve gives him a nod and hesitates like he's about to give him a goodbye kiss, but thinks better of it. "See you," he simply says, disappearing into the garage. 

They wait in tense silence until the sound of closing garage doors is followed by the start of an engine outside. 

"What the fuck, Gareth?!" Jeff bursts out.

"Yeah, what the fuck?! Harrington?! Really?!"

"What the fuck you guys!" Gareth bristles back. "I can't even kiss a guy in my own home?!"

"It's our home," Doug corrects him.

"So? Do we have a no-boyfriends policy now?" 

"Boyfriend?" 

They all recoil at the word. Even Gareth seems surprised by using it himself. 

"I mean, he's not, but if he was," he fumbles. "You know what I mean!"

"What do you even need a boyfriend for?!" Eddie bristles, making more than one pair of eyes turn to him with confusion. 

"Sex? Kissing? Dates?" Gareth offers incredulously.

Eddie waves his hands.

"So? We're here! You should have just asked!"

"I should have asked," Gareth repeats at him slowly, so he understands what he has just said. "To have sex with you."

Eddie falters a little bit. 

"Yeah? We're friends, right?" he says, suddenly less sure of himself. "We trust each other. Right?"

"Right," Jeff parrots him, sounding a bit doubtful. "But like..."

"Okay," Doug pipes up suddenly. 

"Huh?" 

They all turn to him now. He shrugs.

"Let's have sex."

tags: @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @wheneverfeasible

[crows-in-the-house]

Bill Cipher x Reader possesion hc's

tw: harm to reader, violence and blood?

i think he would posses you in your sleep, making sure you are deep in nightmare realm, getting in only when he's sure you won't wake up :

he will start his fun with drawing eyes on your eyelids and your forehead, maybe whole body if he's in the mood,

and the best part? It's going to be with a the pernament marker sucker!

if he gets bored he might start drawing triangles or riddles, sometimes just in places you won't see, like "Bill's property" on your nape (ha! you still have that you fool!)

oooh, and maybe he will tattoo that if you've been ignoring him lately

just so you know haha

will try to see if he can bite of ur fingers

will eat spiders (his fav human must be well feed)

will bath you in nailpolish so you're "well preserved"

will prank call random people hoping he finds any of the Pines numbers (so you two can go on a murder date!!)

will make a fashion show!

but don't hope it will turn out well, he will cut out "clothes" out of your curtains, make a shawl out of toilet paper and use a grater as a bracelet. Later you may just find yourself half naked cuz he bearly knew how to put back normal clothes on you (he will defend himself saying that real clothes are boring and out of style)

on the other hand he will also put on lots of jewelry and accesories - so you may also wake up with three hats, old winter glove, two bowties (which you didn't own earlier?) and 6 rings on your toes. enjoy!

sometimes Bill will just watch tv. Maybe he will comment on "my little ponny" or other shows, what else can he do? He has to talk to somebody, you know, while waiting for his lazy human. The next day you can feel ur throat burning and eyes itching

"what about building a portal?" - you would ask. Well no, he obviously does that. It's just that it's not so enjoyable when you don't have anyone to boss around! So he gets bored quickly and nags you about it later. Or send you more nightmares about it, cuz how dare you be so sloppy with your work!?

he will also draw himslef on all your mirrors so you can look at him every time u try to look at ur relfection (if you try to clean that off, he will just scratch it with something sharp the next day, so better be cearful, theres going to be lots of glass shards everywhere)

prolly will just throw brokade everywhere cuz its pretty

if he's feeling lonely or desperate he will start rewiring your brain, maybe adding a few fake memories where he's your hero, or putting himself in a place of somebody that helped you in hard sytuation. Remember that one time you got sick and somebody was next to your bed 24/7? Yeah it was Bill, do thank him.

will read all your thoughts about him

will drink a soup made of energy drinks and candy

will write his name on ur brain. or heart. or lungs, maybe just everywhere, why not?

will act like you in front of the mirror and compliment himself!

will try making a piercing. if he fails with your ears he will just practice on your tights! And neck!

will haunt down your friends, you better tell them you were just playing tag with them. Yes, with a knife, who doesn't?

will try to lick your eyeball

and elbow

also will hurt your body in weird ways but that obvious

(buuuut maybe, just maybe, he will make you not feel all the pain the next day. If he likes you that enough, that is)