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[nanaminokanojo]

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..." 

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[sugawhaaa]

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[honeyedmiller]

Law of Attraction — Chapter One: Rough Draft

series masterlist | next chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: Professor!Joel, reader is self conscious for a bit, reader is mentioned to be plus sized, no outbreak au, smut (fingering, thigh riding, f oral receiving, unprotected piv), pet names, age gap (joel is in his mid forties and reader is in late twenties), no use of y/n.

word count: 4.4k

chapter synopsis: you need help with a paper you’re writing for Professor Miller’s class, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

Professor Miller’s class was your favorite.

Criminal Law was your favorite subject, and Professor Miller made learning about it sound like the most interesting thing in the world (which to you, it truly was).

Although the class itself was a bit monotonous, you got to look at the most handsome Professor on the University of Austin’s campus. It was no secret that people only joined Professor Miller’s class just to ogle over him and his ruggedly handsome looks.

You, on the other hand, needed this class to graduate. Which means you needed to try. You were a good student; A’s and B’s as your final grades at the end of each semester, took good notes, studied hard, and asked for help when you needed it. However, you found it to be a bit difficult to do so for Professor Miller.

Even just being around him made you unintentionally blush. His eyes always tended to land on yours because you sat up front, and, well, tried to pay attention to the lesson. So, when you weren’t exactly confident in the rough draft of a paper you wrote for his class, you’d emailed him for help.

to: jmiller@uta.edu

Good evening Professor Miller,

I was just wondering if I could have you read through the rough draft of my paper. I seem to be struggling a bit with this particular section of the course, and would like some feedback to see what I need to change or can improve.

Thank you and kind regards.

You held your breath as you clicked ‘send’, and in less than five minutes, he replied to you. Your heart leaped into your throat when you saw his name on the screen, and you rolled your eyes at yourself for getting so worked up over a man that you’d never be able to have, regardless if you were well above a legal age.

from: jmiller@uta.edu

Of course. Meet me after class tomorrow and we can go over it in my office during my office hours.

Have a good night.

Professor M

You often thought of Professor Miller outside of class, and, sometimes, you’d let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t go. Places like what it’d feel like for him to run his hands over you, fingers in you, him moaning because of you.

Your thoughts always quickly dissipated though when reality sunk in. Surely he’d want someone his own age, not a student of his, and someone who was… well, thinner. You were a bigger girl and you’d struggled with your image a lot, especially because trauma from your childhood from being made fun of constantly haunted you into your adulthood.

It wasn’t easy not caring what people thought of you, especially since you weren’t society’s “standard” beauty. You were curvy, yes, but you didn’t have a flat tummy like other women. You’ve been on a journey of self love and healing for a long time, and you've come a long way. You've had a newfound confidence spring within you, but you just couldn't help the thought loom in the back of your mind as you fantasized about your unfairly gorgeous professor.

So, as it was, you went to bed that night fucking yourself with your fingers, wishing they were his instead as a ghost of his name was whispered from your lips.

-

It was unusually hot in Austin the next day, which resulted in you wearing a pencil skirt that came just above the knees, a button down shirt with the first couple of buttons undone, and strap back kitten heels. You had a presentation in your first class with a team to act as if you were profilers giving a profile on a high stakes case. So, naturally, you had to dress the part.

What you didn't take in account is the fact that several of your classmate's eyes landed on you as you walked into Professor Miller's class a few minutes before it started. Professor Miller's eyes snapped up and looked at you, taking in your professional attire. You felt your face get hot as you tried to subtly head to your desk in the front, but your heels clicking against the floor didn't help.

Joel cleared his throat as he typed something on his computer, turning on the projector so the screen could display today's lesson. Joel got up from his desk and trudged over to yours, knocking on it twice. Your head was already buried in the notes from the previous lessons, so his presence startled you.

"I remembered your email from yesterday. See me after class today if you can." He pauses, taking a moment to look over your features, pretty face was perfectly on display for him. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your doe eyes scanned his face, lips in a soft pout, and your chest was rising and falling faster than usual. The way he looked at you made you squeeze your legs together, and Joel noticed.

"For my paper." You stated matter-of-factly, rather than questioning it. He nodded, and you mirrored his actions once before he stalked back to his desk. He greeted the class shortly after, beginning the lesson almost immediately.

Class lasted the two hours as usual, and as everyone gathered their stuff, you stay put. You’d crossed your leg over one another because the heavy feeling of arousal just wasn’t going away.

Professor Miller looked particularly good today, with his hair done up and a tight cotton green button down hugging the muscles in his arms. You always admired his husky build, and this shirt he wore with the fitted denim jeans he had on accentuated it perfectly.

“So what exactly are you struggling with?” Professor Miller cuts to the chase, prompting you to come up to his desk. You clear your throat as you pull the rough draft from your folder, sliding out of your desk. You walk over to him, heels still clicking onto the floor with purpose. You hand him the paper and he takes it from you gently.

“I’m having trouble with the case study here,” You lean over his desk slightly, a perfectly manicured finger of yours pointing at the third paragraph on the first page. “I don’t know if I should apply or dispute it.” You chew on your bottom lip nervously, not realizing how incredibly sexy you look to your dear professor right now.

One of your hands was hooked to the edge of his desk, gripping on it to balance yourself as you leaned over giving him a slight peep of the very top of the soft flesh of your breasts. You biting your lip like that didn’t make things any better. Joel felt his cock twitch in his jeans, and he wanted to groan.

Joel’s admired your curviness since the first day you walked into his classroom. He always found plus size women attractive, so naturally, he felt more drawn to you. He knew you were a consenting adult and a grown woman at that, so he truthfully didn’t feel too guilty for unashamedly checking you out. You just never noticed.

Joel’s eyes snapped back to your paper, reading over the section you pointed at. “You should apply the argument,” Joel said, writing next to the printed words with red ink. “Everything looks good, though. Just apply the argument and assess the similarities between the two cases and you’re golden.” He hands you back the paper after writing his feedback.

“Great. Thank you for your help, Professor.”

“Call me Joel.”

You look at him a little confused. “Sir?” The word just slipped out of your mouth, and you didn’t realize what you’d just said until after the fact. Joel exhaled shakily out of his nose.

To change the subject, he took in your attire again. “What’ya doin’ dressed up all fancy like that?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. He was trying to distract his own mind from wandering places that it shouldn’t with you.

“Oh,” You laugh, and fuck if that wasn’t one of Joel’s new favorite sounds. “I have Professor Sanchez’s class before this. We had a group presentation today,” You turn away from him to put the paper back in your folder, so your back was facing him. You heard Joel get up from his chair, but his footsteps didn’t go far. It sounded like he was leaning up against his desk. “We basically had to give out a profile for a mock high stakes case.”

Joel hummed, and you whirred around to face him. His body looked elongated the way he leaned so cooly up against his mahogany desk, legs extended but crossed as his boots touched the ground, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He looked like a tall glass of water and you’d be damned if you didn’t get a sip.

“Professor Sanchez’s class sounds fun.” Joel quips, tilting his head.

“Yours is better.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself off of his desk, analyzing your body language again. He can tell by the way your legs are pressed together and the rising of your chest that you’re nervous, which makes him nearly smirk.

“More fun to learn about.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. You were certain he could see right through you, though, but neither of you were doing anything about it. You couldn’t help but have a hunch that Professor Miller might just want you the same way you want him. Maybe.

He huffs a chuckle and looks down at the linoleum tile on the floor, biting his tongue. You know he wants to say something, but he’s hesitant. So, you took the initiative and took a step closer to him, taking in his broad frame.

“Look, darlin’,” He starts, and your stomach flutters at the nickname. “I know you’re a grown woman and all, but you’re still my student.”

You tilt your head to the side in wonder, a ghost of a smirk on your lips. “What ever are you talking about, sir?” You’re playing with fire now as you take a step forward, just inches away from the man you’ve wanted to ruin you for so long.

“You know exactly–” He paused as you dragged your index finger down the side of his neck, to his exposed collarbone. “What I’m talkin’ about.”

“As far as I’m concerned, sir, we’re both consenting adults.” You drop your hand and shrug, your eyes feening innocence.

He sighs defeatedly, shaking his head.

“You’re not wrong about that. You don’t know how hard it’s been trying to keep my eyes to myself every time you walk into my classroom. And then you come in here looking like this?” Joel gestures to your whole body, and your heart is hammering in your chest.

“Never thought you’d look at me that way, Professor.” You confess.

“You kiddin’ me? You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life,” He scoffs as if he can’t believe you don’t see yourself in the same light that he does. He thinks for a moment before opening his mouth, then clamping it shut. It seems that he made a final decision when he sighs and closes his eyes, opening them to look directly into yours. His brown eyes were so mesmerizing, you almost didn’t hear him say his next words. “If you really want this, want me, follow me into my office.” He whispers, and you nod with subtle eagerness.

Holy fuck. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You trailed not too far behind him with your book bag slung over your shoulder, heels clicking against the floor in anticipation as you tried to keep up with his wide strides. You walked through a door in the classroom that led to a hallway with another door at the end. Joel unlocked the door and opened it for you, letting you in first. He trailed in hot on your heels and shut the door. He locked it and swiftly grabbed the softness of your hips, pushing you up against the door. You gasp softly, hands landing on his broad chest.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Was all he said before he crashed his lips with yours, gripping one of your thighs and bringing it up to wrap around his waist. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as your skirt rode to your hips, leaving you to feel just how hard Joel’s cock was getting.

You moaned into his mouth and tangled your fingers into his slightly graying hair, tugging the slightest bit. He pushed you even further into the door, grinding his hips into yours. You left out a soft whimper into his mouth, but he swallowed it right up when he swept his tongue over your bottom lip. You didn’t hesitate to let his tongue explore your mouth.

You both were clearly so ravenous for each other, and the clashing of tongues and teeth proved that. You gripped at each other like you’d both disappear and this would’ve been a sad, unfulfilling dream.

Joel pulled apart from your lips as he trailed his warm lips down your throat and to your collar bone, his hot tongue poking out to soothe tiny bites he made along the way.

“Joel, please.” You beg, not really sure for what though. You want him everywhere on you all at once. You wanted to drink him in like he was the last fucking water source in the world. You wanted to feel his burly muscles rippling beneath your hands as you became full of him, stretching you out so heavenly that you couldn’t even comprehend what was going on around you.

He moaned at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, and he pulled apart from you. He dragged you over to his desk, where he sat down in his large office chair and pulled you down to straddle one thigh of his.

“Go on, baby, use me.” He breathed, brushing the curve of your cheekbone softly. You leaned forward to kiss him again, finally registering what he meant. You settled your clothed core over his jean-clad thigh, grinding yourself onto him slowly at first. The friction was heavenly and you knew you were already close.

So many days and nights of fantasizing about this and how it’d go down, only for it to come true in the end, was truly otherworldly. His large hands moved down to unbutton a couple of more buttons on your shirt before moving down the curves of your body to rest on your ass, giving it a squeeze. You brought your hands onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you began to really ride his thigh.

You moaned softly and your eyebrows threaded together, the friction becoming nearly unbearable.

“Fuck.” You muttered, jaw going slack. Joel watched you in pure lust and amusement, waiting for you to soak a spot into his jeans. Seeing you like this, on top of him, riding his thigh, getting off because of him… made his head swirl with euphoria.

“That’s it, angel. C’mon. Give it to me, baby.” Joel encouraged, softly forcing his hands against your ass to get you to rut your hips a little faster.

“Fuck, fuck, Joel, I’m gonna– fuck!” You came hard on his thigh, and he nearly came in his pants at the sight. He felt the warm slick on his thigh, and he needed to get a taste of you.

“So good for me, sweet girl,” He murmured as he lifted you by your hips and set you down on his neat desk. Your skirt was already up to your hips, so Joel swiftly removed your soaked panties and stuffed them in his back pocket. “Let me just get a taste.” He said, looking down at you. Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words, silently begging him to devour you like you were his last meal.

He got down on his knees and pulled your ass closer to the edge of the desk by your thighs, hooking them around his shoulders as he came face-to-face with your glistening heat. “So fuckin’ pretty. This pussy’s mine.” Joel mewled, calloused fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs once more as his tongue circled your clit.

The drag of his muscle was slow, teasing. He took his time just to hear you beg for his mouth. He needed to hear it.

“Sir, please.” You softly whimper, and his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. His ran his tongue up and down your folds, swirling it a few times before it prodded your entrance. He delved his tongue inside of you, and you had to clamp your hand over your mouth in order to keep from screaming.

His tongue felt so warm and wet and heavenly in you and around your aching cunt, just begging to be devoured until you reach another orgasm. Joel is was moaning against you, and the vibrations shot straight up your core. It made your toes curl in your heels, and your hips buck up from the desk. He folded his hands on top of your stomach to keep you locked down, and you whined at the sensation.

You were panting heavily beneath your hand, trying to muffle the loud whines and moans that you emitted. Joel’s tongue kept working against you as he lapped up your slick, drinking you in like he was dehydrated in the desert. You tasted so good to him; like nectarine from the ripest peach.

He then solely focused his tongue on your clit, flicking over it rapidly before using his lips to lightly suck on it. Your nails from your free hand clawed at the desk, the feeling of overstimulation creeping in. You felt that low burning sensation in your core as your next orgasm began to build up. As if on cue, Joel swiftly detached his mouth from you as he gathered your slick on his middle finger, followed by his ring. He pushed his two fingers into your entrance slowly, relishing the tightness around his digits.

He latched his mouth back onto your clit, interchanging between licking and sucking. Your shaky thighs began to squeeze Joel’s head as your orgasm was about to peak.

Joel hummed against you as he curled his fingers , hitting that spongy spot inside of your cunt that had you rolling your eyes back as your body shook through your climax. You whimpered as he detached his mouth and removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. The whole bottom half of his face was covered in your arousal, and he looked down at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“So sweet f’me, baby. Could eat that perfect pussy all day.” He tossed you a shit-eating grin, and your thighs clamped shut as you tried to regain your breath. He leaned down to give you a kiss, and you tasted yourself on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth. You could feel his painfully hard erection against your thigh, so you tried to muster up as much energy as you could to start taking off his belt.

Joel helped you by taking the rest of his belt off after you undid the buckle. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down just below his ass. He tugged his boxers down too so he could free his erection. Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock, head weeping and leaking pre cum.

“L’me taste you.” You managed to say in your already fucked-out state, but Joel shook his head.

“Next time, baby,” Next time. You pouted at him and he chuckled, cradling your face. “Now if you need to tap out, give me two hard taps on my thigh, okay angel?” You swallowed and nodded at his directions, and once again, you clenched around nothing.

“I’m– I have an IUD.” You say, and Joel looks down at you.

“Good.” Was all he said before putting both of his hands by your head, leaning down to kiss you gently. Without removing his lips from yours, he took one hand and guided the head of his cock over your aching folds. You were buzzing with anticipation, because the need to have him in you was almost unbearable.

He slowly prodded your entrance, then pushed himself in. You nearly choke on a gasp as he fills you up. You felt every ridge and vein on his silky, girthy flesh and you closed your eyes in pure ecstasy at the feeling. His cock was heavy in you, the weight adding to the extra pleasure you were already experiencing.

Joel looked at your face, admiring how it was contorted in pleasure and slight pain before he leaned down again to bite the soft flesh of your breast as he adjusted to your tightness.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” Joel moaned, standing upright after littering a few more kisses on your chest.

“Please move, Joel.” Was all you said before he began to rock his hips steadily. His thrusts were slow at first, but you tried to grind your hips against his for more friction. A few times your clit met the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and that gave you the friction you needed to clench around him so deliciously.

“This pretty pussy is all mine, y’hear me? So fuckin’ wet and tight, darlin’. Have me fuckin’ losin’ my mind,” Joel picks up his pace, slamming into you at an impossible rate. “Say it.” He warns, taking your breasts out from the cup of your bra.

“It’s–fuck, it’s all yours sir. All yours.” You couldn’t believe how good he felt as he fucked you like this, feverishly and buried to the hilt every single time.

“Good girl.” You moaned at the praise, and he leaned down to capture a swollen bud into his mouth. His hot tongue swirled around your flesh, sucking it and ever so slightly nipping it with his teeth. You hissed at the feeling, but it only spurred your arousal on further.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he fucked you, but he stood up and removed your legs from him and put them over his shoulders instead. The new angle made it easier for him to fuck you deeper. A dark glint passed in Joel’s eyes as you moaned loudly.

He gathered both of your wrists into one of his, pinning them above your head. The pace of his hips picked up, and all that was heard in the windowless room was the sound of skin on skin slapping together, your wonton moans, and Joel’s grunts. He moved his other hand over your throat, wrapping around it and giving the sides a squeeze as he fucked you senselessly. You felt that tight coil in the pit of your core once more, and you were writhing beneath Joel the best you could.

“Fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“Go ‘head angel, cum f’me.” His deep Southern drawl is what sent you over the edge, crumbling down and shattering all at once as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out, and Joel quickly removed his hand from your throat and kissed you urgently, but the pace of his hips didn’t let up. He released your wrists next and your hands found purchase in his hair, raking their way down his back as you desperately tried to grab a hold on him.

It resulted in your nails scratching down his back, which he hissed at but didn’t seem to mind overall. Joel was chasing his own release as your slick cunt gripped him so desperately.

“C’mon baby, give me one more.” He grunted, gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there were going to be bruises. As if on command, your body beckoned to his call and you found yourself orgasming for the fourth time that day. A gush of liquid expelled from your overstimulated cunt, and a strangled cry left your mouth.

Joel was teetering on the edge, teeth clenched and brow furrowed. “Where do you want me, angel?” His voice was strangulated and desperate, both of you gasping for air.

“In me, Joel, please.” You cry, gently gripping at his hair as his head dropped to your shoulder, warm spurts of cum shooting into you. He groaned into your ear, cursing under his breath as he filled you to the brim.

He collapsed onto you, cradling the side of your face as he kissed you passionately.

“So good f’me, sweet girl. Y’did so well.” He praises, kissing your lips once more before standing up slowly and pulling himself out of your sensitive cunt.

You hummed as you tried to relish in the feeling of being so fucked out by one of the hottest men you’ve ever come to know in your life. You couldn’t believe that just happened, and your mind was swirling with a million thoughts per minute.

Joel helped you up onto shaky legs, grinning to himself at how fucked out you looked. He was sure he looked the same way, but he couldn’t care less.

“You have any classes after this, baby?” Joel asks as he buttons up your shirt for you. You shake your head no, your voice not quite caught up to you just yet.

“‘M going home to sleep. Im exhausted.” You sigh, leaning against him. He chuckles and kisses the top of your head, smoothing out any stray hairs that were misplaced from your activities.

“Get some rest, baby. Here. Take my number and I’ll call you.” He rips a piece of paper from a notebook laying nearby, scribbling his number on it before tucking it into the breast pocket of your shirt. You beam up at him, hand trailing up his torso to rest on his chest. Your other hand found purchase on the back of his neck, softly tugging him down to kiss him once more.

“Mm. Will do, Professor.” You playfully wink at him, and he taps your ass playfully before you unlock the door to his office.

He half smiled as he watched you walk away, admiring your beautiful body from behind. He called out to you one last time, hoping you’d text him asap that night.

“Don’t forget to fix your rough draft!”

tag list:

@cool-iguana ; @wannab-urs ; @bastardmandennis ; @nostalxgic ; @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin ; @pamasaur ; @planet-marz1

[savnofilter]

Text Me Back | Katsuki Bakugo

      Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, sexting, sending nudes, crude jokes, mention of myspace™, p.o.v switches, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 4k words [15 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [student masterlist].

A/N: gosh i wish i couldve done more with this but... i'll figure it out later. may revamp or do a part 2 but it depends on how motivated. anyways, enjoy. 🥹 also i just realized that reader did nothing the whole day LMAOOOO so ignore that pls omg. thank you, anon!

As spring rolled around, the air had a certain chill to it. 

It was a crisp scent with sharp edges, the smell of growing plants clinging onto the molecules within the vicinity. As a result of the coolness in your room, you probably should turn on the heater in your apartment. Usually, you wouldn't have to worry about doing it yourself, but due to maintenance delaying another day later to fix the issue, you now find yourself in an internal battle to get up out of your bed for your comfort. 

Of course, you didn't hate the spring atmosphere. You liked it. The nostalgic and tender feel it gave your body and mind gave a fake sense of comfort that you desired. But you would desperately love it more if you could bask in such ideals while in the comfort of your lukewarm sheets, temperature heightened by the air of the room. 

You groan in disdain at the fact you had to get out of your bed. You begrudgingly roll onto your side and feel around for your phone on your nightstand. Once finding your device you click the button on the side to partially unlock it to see what you have missed from being asleep. Of course, regular things like Twitter notifications were present, Snapchat, Instagram, MySpace, etc… until a message stuck out the most amid your roll call. 

Bakugo 🤭💕

Light schedule today, museum date?

I know you will wake up late, so I'll decide for you. Pick-up is at 7 p.m.

[✓] Sent 8:42 A.M.

You immediately perk up at the notification, a goofy smile spreading onto your lips.

Bakugo has been your boyfriend for about three years now. You had originally met years prior when you both were in school. Him being an intern for superhero-ing and you were an intern for hands-on training within the superhero management world. You were a little shit and he was an even more of a little shit… and that's what made you two click. Even with his calloused way of showing his emotions, he had still been pretty evident about his feelings towards you when you two were merely friends. In the same way, you two could work and piss each other off to no end, there was a great sense of duality showcased by empathy, love, and compassion toward each other. When you needed someone or something, you could always count on your boyfriend, Katsuki.

You chewed the inside of your lip as your brain racked your head at the things you needed to do today. Today was Friday so you were sure you wouldn't have anything on your schedule. But because you tended to let things slip your head, you still had to double-check to make sure. You light up once again as you realize today was only a busy day for yourself—chores, errands, and minimum job-related things you could finish at home. Nothing dire; just adulting.

You

and what if I said no????

how'd y'know i'd wake up late lol

[✓] 13:01 P.M.

After quickly adjusting your noise settings from silent to vibrate, you bring your phone back down onto the nightstand and properly sit up to avoid your back from aching at an uncomfortable angle. You stretch in delight, arms brought over your head and your eyes shut exerting all of the drowsiness within you. You coil back into yourself once the cold air you had forgotten about hits your skin as a rude reminder. You glare at the thermostat before swiftly throwing your covers off and trudge your way to the small dial and fix the dilemma yourself.

While fiddling with the switch, you hear your buzz behind you. Your brows scrunch in frustration as you can feel yourself start to get agitated at how it's acting, finally getting the stupid little compartment to work before walking off. You nearly trip on your way back to bed in an effort to get back to the warmth of your bed.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You always wake up in the evening, dumbass.

& you have a free schedule today.

[✓] Sent 13:08 P.M.

You scoff.

Your chat bubbles float up on the screen on his end as you try to think of something more annoying to combat him with. You fall short.

You

Damn.

[✓] Sent 13:11 P.M.

You think to yourself before pausing and sending another text.

You

shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me

a kid is probably drowning rn bc Lord Explosion Murder Dynamight is sexting his girlfriend instead of doing his job.

did you change your name to your hero name AGAIN???

[✓] Sent 13:15 P.M.

If loving this kind of banter was something that you enjoyed, may the devil take you away. You couldn't help the grin mischievously as you waited for his correspondence. You were practically on the edge of your bed waiting for his reply.

A few minutes go by and he hasn't replied. There's a pang of hurt following your spiraling thoughts. Who cared if a kid was really drowning-

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied to your text: shouldn't you be at work? why are you texting me}

Is work in the room with us?

[✓] Sent 13:25 P.M.

You're almost quick to reply before seeing his speech bubbles pop up again, eyes watching in interest. You can't help but feel nervicited seeing it disappear and reappear, proud to have stunned him. What you didn't know is what he was fixing himself to say.

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳{replied and highlighted: … Dynamight is SEXTING HIS GIRLFRIEND instead of doing his job.}

No pic, no proof

[✓] Sent 13:27 P.M.

You squint at your phone and pause. Did he just quote the way you talk AND send you a musty and memefied reply all in one go? You huff at his bravery, rolling your eyes but feeling a deep blush creep up on your cheeks. Your phone vibrates.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Don't tell me you folded that fast, babe.

[✓] Sent 13:31 P.M.

Oh, but you did. You weren't expecting him to fire back at you like this. Often when you made an innuendo of some sort he'd whine and brush it off as if he hasn't beaten your doonies down multiple times—sometimes all in one night. But you refused to let him win this. You need to think fast.

Again, the cool air caresses your exposed hand, the stroke of the uncomfortable chill making you hiss. You position yourself on your back where you can safely cover the backs of your hands as you held your phone. A few more minutes had passed than you had noticed, your screen growing dim as you were forced to look at your newly awakened and chilled state.

That's when it hit you.

No pic, no proof, right?

As you shiver feeling a stroke of air pass over again, a sign that the temperature in the room is actively changing, you look down at your chest. In your defense, they looked at you first. Your nipples are profoundly erect and poking at your shirt begging for attention. You purse your lips before looking back at your screen, contemplating your next moves. Sucking in a small breath you quickly awaken your phone and swipe your screen over to take a photo of yourself.

You angle the electronic to show your chest, your other hand dragging up some of your shirt to show little skin of your stomach. Your nipples were still very much the prominent part of the image. After realistically struggling a bit, you snap the picture and quickly hum in surprise at how good it is. If you were in any other state than your current one, you would've retaken it but you couldn't feel yourself to care knowing he's an ass anyway.

You decide to say something after the image as you bring up the chat and send in the picture.

You

(IMAGE)

is this proof?

[✓] Sent 13:40 P.M.

After setting your phone down and interlocking your fingers together, you stare up at the sky: now that you think about it, what possessed you to send such a scandalous picture all of a sudden? The hormone monster? When was the last time you sent him a proper nude? You rub your face and groan as you now really think about it.

No matter how many times you have sent spicy images, it was the mock post nut clarity after sending it off. Debating if the pic was good enough or hoping that it somehow didn't change sender at the last second. The vulnerable feeling starts to claw its way into your body… and yet you refuse to let it get to you. Just like how everything with Bakugo is, all the nervous feelings always filled you with excitement. You couldn't wait to see his response because you knew damn well he was your munch.

You hear your phone buzz once before turning your head to see it fade to black again. Deciding to not look at it straight away, you get up for the second time today. Fortunately, your room was starting to warm up which meant it was the perfect time to start your day (yes, nearing the second hour of the evening). Your phone buzzes again and you choose to ignore it.

Running through your routine is clockwork. Use the bathroom, brush your teeth, shower, facial, and the last part you hadn't reached yet was to get dressed. You had honestly forgotten about teasing your long-term boyfriend as you freshened up for the day. Typically, you did this as a way to relieve stress and rejuvenate yourself. You hum as you lotion up yourself, welcoming back the feelings of giddiness back to your body. There was no need to rush this; it was almost as though the teasing was for your enjoyment more than his. Again you wrap yourself in your robe and finally sit on your bed to go on your phone. His message reads:

Bakugo 🤭💕

↳Loved your message.

Fuck.

Is this how we're playing today?

[✓] Sent 13:41 P.M.

You bite the inside of your lip before a smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you type up a reply.

You

you don't want more? okay… ;( 💔

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

He immediately opens your message and his speech bubbles become afloat.

Bakugo 🤭💕

You know damn well that's not what I meant, brat.

Another form of confirmation would be suitable.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

There's a pause before he sends his next text.

Bakugo 🤭💕

Please.

[✓] Sent 14:39 P.M.

You

I guess you can since you asked nicely…

[✓] Sent 14:41

He was a good boy you had to admit. When he wanted you, he certainly knew how to play the rules until he could be on top. You admired that about him.

You slightly turn your head to the mirror of your bed. You were currently out of sight in the reflection but had an idea of how you could use it. You scooch up to the edge of your bed, sitting with your legs on each side of the corner closest to the body mirror. Before you could even think about sending off a photo you pull your hair back and neaten it up whether it was with a bonnet or messy bun. Regardless you knew he wouldn't give a fuck but this surge in arousal made you want to look sexy in your most natural state. Skin glowing and thriving, you felt like a goddess.

Blessed that the room is warm enough for you to be naked, you partially undress; eyes watch your irresistible figure come to reveal itself. Of course, even with how much you loved yourself, you couldn't show all of yourself just yet. You pull your robe open enough to expose your chest, a small huff of discontent leaving as the air hits your naked skin again. A hum leaves your chest as you admire yourself a bit more, before positioning the camera in a way to show off your chest. You knew this would drive him insane. After a few awkward angles and shots, you deemed your favorite one and opened back up the messages app once again.

You waste no time uploading the pictures but grow a bit hesitant as you can’t help but feel nervous. You’d think after doing this with a trusted partner it’d be a breeze at this stage. You fidget on the edge of the bed as you type up, delete, then retype, decide to delete and then the process continues. ‘Why was this so hard?? Just send the damn pic!’ You sigh and type up your final draft, ready to send the first proper nude for the evening.

With a final decision, you decide to go with something simple.

You

how’s this?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 14:57

You immediately close out the app once you send it off and fall back onto your bed. There’s a giddy smile on your face as you could only imagine what his reaction would be to see the photo. That was the whole exciting thing about this: the teasing that transpires and the adrenaline rush you receive from it. You don’t bother to check if he’s seen it yet as you think it would be best to let your heart rest. Luckily, it’s not long before you need to wait as your phone buzzes beside you.

After a few moments of waiting you sit up on your side to look at the message, your eyes immediately going for Bakugo’s text. You freeze upon seeing two messages in the same format as yours, a regular text followed by a photo to compliment the exchange. You raise your eyebrows as you prop yourself up on your hand now, tapping his notification and swiping up to look at what he has sent you.

You softly gasp as you open the image, something you were not expecting but will gladly accept. “More than perfect.” You read aloud and scrolled further down to look at the whole image. You grin upon seeing a picture of him palming his hard-on through his pants. It appeared by his scenery and clothing that he truly wasn’t out on patrol today, instead probably filming content to build his likability with his fanbase. Not only that, he was in a dressing room, by himself. He had more than enough time to do what he pleases.

Bakugo was more than ready to up the ante and your slow correspondence was killing him. He knew that this was a frequent way that you liked to tease and play dirty with him. He had been up since 5 a.m. and he was basically waiting impatiently for you to wake up.

It had been about a week or so since you two have seen each other and he was missing you badly. Your dumb jokes, your antics, the “arguments” and especially your touch. Apparently, the pre-planned date for tonight was the type of outing you needed as well. Bakugo sucks his teeth as he starts to feel a blush arise on his cheeks as he can’t help but think about you. And you weren’t making it better with how willing you are to toy with him.

Now it was the blonde-haired male's turn to be nervous awaiting your reply. He watched in expectancy to see your response, sitting up from his slouched position on the couch in his dressing room to read your reply.

#1 Brat

not too bad yourself, honey~

[✓] Sent 15:21

Katsuki is quick to start typing again, pausing when he sees your chat bubbles pop up on his phone.

#1 Brat

mind sending another one more… revealing?

(IMAGE)

[✓] Sent 15:23

He chuckles at your proposition. The laugh subsides as he takes in the new image, revealing more of your body in your lying down position practically mimicking the first photo you had sent for the day. The robe artfully covers but also shows your body and he can’t but groan as he longs to touch you. Your breasts, legs, and tummy are so fucking attractive to him. The fact that you have a pretty face tops it all off makes him feel as though he’s won the jackpot being in love with you. But there was one part that he was longing to see as well, the piece of heaven between your legs. The blonde-haired hero grunts as he starts to type up his message.

Bakugo 🤭💕

I could ask the same from you, beautiful.

[✓] Sent 15:26

You

ah-ah, you first!

[✓] Sent 15:27

“This…” Katsuki mumbles to himself but doesn’t stop from unbuckling his pants anyways. With how hard his length appeared in the earlier photo, it is no surprise at how confined it was pressing against his underwear. With a simple tug, he releases his cock from his briefs, a soft groan leaving his lips as he strokes his cock. The warmth of his hand certainly did not compare to yours at all.

He imagines your hot hands caressing every bit of his skin, your warm mouth that’s skilled with playing with his sweet spots, your plush thighs that wrap around his waist or squish his face. The way he could watch how your chest jiggle with each thrust, the way that your pussy never fails to take him in like it was made for him. Everything about you was cursing him and he needed you badly.

Bakugo tilts his head back against the top of the couch as he starts to speed up his thrusts, now fully getting into the thought of what he’d do to you if you were right next to him right now. How he could easily pick you up and pin you onto the couch as he pounds into you like no tomorrow, not giving a fuck if your moans were too loud and anyone passing by could hear the lewd noises coming from within the room. The way he could watch your face contort into the most erotic expressions all because of him, his touch, his mouth, and his dick most importantly. The moment his hips buck to meet his own stroking hand makes him realize he had distracted himself from his main task.

He fumbles around for his phone before setting it up the way you like the most when watching his videos. The angle is perfectly angled to showcase his impressive length, not tew much balls but enough to show the goodies. He made sure to be vocal as well, letting the camera show his stroking and his thumb rubbing his tip every so often to increase the pleasure. A few times you could hear his soft grunts of your name or an exploitive to release the building-up tension from his masturbation session.

He breathes out as he speeds up his strokes. It seems as though with his jerking that he's getting closer and closer to his climax, the only thing clouding his mind is only you. He softly pants and starts to collect perspiration of sweat on his forehead as he works up to his orgasm. He clenches his jaw as he finally finishes and continues to stroke, showing how much cum he can milk from himself. He hums in mere satisfaction and ends the video to clean up. Unfortunately, that in itself did not rid himself of the boner; a new one was already starting to grow once again.

When he processes the video through the messaging app, there is no cheeky remark or commentary. He is officially worked up and cannot wait any longer.

Bzzz Bzzz

Your eyes widen as you finally get your reply back. You tilt your head in curiosity and feel your heart skip a beat. It is a video. Katsuki sent a fucking video. You bite your lower lip and open the message. There was no other text to accompany it but you already knew what you were in for.

Your breath hitches as the video is straight to the point. You watched his perfectly manicured and clean nails skillfully play with his cock, his large hand almost struggling to wrap around his own length. You hear a small moan and you quickly raise the volume, your heart skipping a beat as you realize that you can hear the erotic noises come from him.

Your hand immediately shoots down to untie your robe, slick already starting to increase and your clit pulsing. You shamelessly moan as your deft fingers stroke at your vulva, your mouth in the shape of an, “o” as you use your fluid to play with your bundle of nerves.

“Shit!” You close your eyes with the image of him stroking his cock deeply ingrained in your mind. The noises he made were enough for you to get off on your own. Your middle finger rubs heavy circles into your clit while your other hand busies itself playing with your nipple, the feeling making you lightly shiver. The sounds of his heavy breathing and the silkiness of his hand rubbing his shaft were driving you crazy, and soon enough your petting wasn’t doing the job. You opt for fingering yourself instead, huffing out a whimper as your fingers barely fill your cunt but make up for it by finding your g-spot at the roof of your pussy.

You weakly open your eyes to watch the screen, your breath growing short and light as you meet your fingering with Katsuki’s stroking hand. Another buzz from your phone makes you sit up a little. Your confused and dazed attention span manages to catch the notification that rolls at the top of the screen.

Bakugo 🤭💕 — 15:45

You better not be finishing yourself off without . . .

You groan in annoyance as you remember why you were even diddling yourself in the first place. You slow your strokes down to properly set up your phone, hastily trying to find a proper angle that shows off your body in its entirety (which wasn’t that hard to do as you were in your bed). You spread your legs for the camera and look into the front camera lens as you insert both fingers into your cunt once again. You tilt your head to the side as you look down at your fingers and work a third finger into yourself.

You moan out his name as you work your right hand's fingers into you, building up to the same pace that you had before with the extra digit inside. “Need you so bad, baby--” You groan, looking back up at the screen. Your left-hand comes up to play with your tits again, the robe that still adorned you slipping off your shoulder as you got closer to your climax.

You whimper, finishing off with your fingers, your eyes looking at your cunt taking in your fingers before glancing back at the camera in lust. You repeated, “fuck” as if in a mantra, your eyes closing and your hips bucking to ride yourself to release. You smile as you slowly take out your fingers, your slick sticking to your fingers and your cunt glistening in juices. Your cunt was puffy and warm with arousal pumping through it and it was clear that you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. You scoot a bit closer to show off your sticky fingers, spreading them for him. You hit stop recording with your clean hand after your finished, wasting no time uploading it into the messenger app.

You

of course not, only for you~

(VIDEO)

[✓] Sent 15:55

As soon as you send it in, a text from him follows. You hop up from your bed as you read, heading back to your bathroom to clean yourself up even though the inevitable would have you in the same state as before.

Bakugo 🤭💕

000-0000 Tokyo-to

Be here in 10 minutes.

[✓] Sent 15:56

Hopefully, your newly scheduled meeting won’t delay his filming.

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[golbrocklovely]

painting us // colby brock

A/N: this is a birthday present from me to yall. aren't i so generous lol i've been wanting to write something like this ever since i saw this tiktok. it was so cute and so sweet and i just knew it would be a PERFECT fic for colby. i can 1000% see him doing this someday with someone or malia. there's no gender mentioned in this one so anyone can read this and enjoy :) hope yall like it and lmk what you think! also wish my happy birthday while you're at it haha

prompt: colby and you have been together for a long time, and he decides for a special date night that you two should paint one another. || colby brock x reader

trigger warning: one curse word, PURE FLUFF, super sweet <33

word count: 1300

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you gonna be upset if my painting looks like ass?" Colby smirked, staring up at me for a moment.

I shook my head. "Babe, I highly doubt it's gonna look that bad."

"You know I have no artistic skills. And especially after a glass of wine?" He pffted.

I giggled. "I'll love it regardless."

Our date nights were always fun, having spent so much time together - it was natural for us to enjoy ourselves. Some of my favorite memories were from dates of ours. Recently Colby had seen a stream of tiktoks talking about getting tipsy and painting one another and showing the results afterwards. He mentioned really wanting to do this one night with me, saying we could turn it into a whole date; including making pizza together and watching a movie after. I agreed once I saw one of the tiktoks and thought it looked like a cute idea. What was hysterical to me was how one partner was always so bad at painting and the other was either amazing or just okay.

And since I had been with Colby for a couple years now, I knew which one of us was going to be the bad one... and it definitely wasn't going to be me.

Colby was creative in a lot of ways. Painting was just not one of them.

I kept looking up at him, doing my best to paint him like he was: hair gelled in just the right way - like he always wore it, a short sleeve button up shirt with a black and white design on it. His eyes were soft, and his lips had a light red stain on them from the wine he had been drinking with me. Every time we made eye contact, he would smile cheekily at me, his dimples showing, and sometimes giving me a wink when I would smirk back.

He was the love of my life, and I couldn't imagine anyone else sitting here with me. I didn't want anyone else sitting here with me, on a random Thursday night, painting, drinking, and reminiscing.

"What's been your favorite date of ours?" He asked softly, his brush lightly tapping at the canvas.

I sat back for a moment, thinking. "Oooh, that's a good question. I think I really liked the one we took on your one day off in Rome. It was nice that even on a work trip, you made time for me."

"I will always make time for you," he stated sincerely. "And having authentic Italian food in Italy is a no brainer."

I moaned, "That pasta was to die for."

"I could gain 10 pounds just thinking about it." He jested.

"What about you? What's been your favorite date of ours?" I questioned, painting in his shirt some more.

"Hmmm, probably when we found that hidden beach out in Virginia, and we just watched the stars for hours and talked." Colby smiled at the memory.

I sighed sweetly, "You're such a sap."

"Only for you." He whispered, taking a sip of his wine.

"Are you almost done? I think I've painted your face like six times now but I feel like I'm never gonna get your eyes right." I huffed, slightly frustrated.

"Yeah, I think I'm done..." His voice trailed off, his eyes suddenly full of nerves.

"You don't sound too enthused." I remarked, watching him.

He cleared his throat, "I-I'm just nervous for you to see it. I tried really hard."

"Aw babe, that's so sweet." I commented.

His gaze met mine and he nodded, "Show me yours first, Y/N."

"Alright..." I spun the canvas around, showing him the painting. His whole face brightened, his eyes kind.

Colby pointed proudly, "Baby, that's excellent."

"You think so?" I inquired, looking back at the painting.

"Yeah! You did really good," he exclaimed. "I'm actually shocked at how much that looks like me."

"I feel like your eyes aren't quite right though." I mentioned.

He cocked his head, tracing the lines of the painting with his gaze. "The right one does look a little wonky... but at least you painted me accurately."

I laughed, "Hey now, that's not true. Your right eye is lovely."

"Thanks for the reassurance." His smile dropped, his face nervous once more. "Do you wanna see mine?"

"Of course. I bet it's amazing." I reassured him.

Colby nodded, growing quiet instantly. He looked anxious, and I politely smiled at him. He took a deep breath, grabbing the canvas and turning it over.

It wasn't a painting of me. Well, I was on it. It was the two of us as little mini figures in the corner, holding hands. The background was painted a light pink. And there were words taking up the whole canvas. I read them slowly, taking them in one by one.

Will... you... marry... me?

Will you marry me?

He... was asking me to marry him.

Colby was asking me to marry him.

Tears welled up in my eyes as it hit me, my mouth falling open as I blinked rapidly. He chuckled, getting up and walking over to me. He placed the painting in front of me on the table, taking my hand in his. From his back pocket he pulled out a small ring box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful ring, one that was clearly made for just me. It had everything I wanted in an engagement ring. The shape, the color, the cut. 

It all made sense as to why months back he had asked me about rings and what I wanted. I knew he wanted to marry me, we had talked about it for over a year at this point. But all of this felt so surprising.

His voice wavered as he spoke, tears brimming from his eyes. His hands shook against mine anxiously. His eyes remained on mine the entire time, his heart speaking for him. "Y/N, you have been the best partner I could have ever asked for. The moment I met you I knew I wanted to marry you. You are unlike anyone I've ever known before. You make me feel so secure in who I am as a man and you help me be a better one every day just by existing in my life. I have truly never felt happier, and I thank God every day for sending you my way when I needed you most. I cannot imagine spending another second without you as mine. I love you so much. Will you please marry me?"

I stared at him, the ring, and back at him again. His eyes shined with unshed tears as he waited for me to respond.

"Of course, my love. You're all I've ever wanted," I choked out, more tears falling.

He grinned, sliding the ring onto my finger and jumping to his feet. He pulled me up with him, wrapping his arms around me tightly. He squeezed me, laughing softly as I cried happy tears into his chest. Colby pulled away, looking at me with adoration, kissing my lips feverishly. I kissed him back just as much, holding his face in my hands.

I wiped my tears away, "Oh my God, I can't believe it. This is fucking insane, Colby."

"That I'd marry you or that I surprised you?" He sassed.

I chuckled, "Both honestly."

"I love you, Y/N." He murmured, resting his forehead against mine.

"I love you, Colby." We stayed like that for a moment, just breathing, until I spoke, "I have a different answer to your earlier question though."

He raised an eyebrow, "What one?"

"My favorite date. It's not the Italy one. It's this one. For sure." I rubbed his arms softly, pulling him closer to me.

Colby beamed, "This is my favorite one too."

[dallianceangel]

𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 💀

summary: in which happy pays you a late-night visit to your dorm room.

pairing: happy lowman x fem!reader

word count: 331.

warnings: swearing.

author's note: i found this prompt on google and decided to run with it, attempting to write without taking too many breaks. here's the result, i hope you enjoy x

💨 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 💨

After attending yet another rowdy club party, you call it a night at around 11PM.

Settling yourself underneath the covers in your dorm room, you close your eyes and immediately relax. It's not until you hear the door open and close and footsteps coming closer towards you that you open your eyes, finding your secret boyfriend standing next to the bed.

“Have you got a death wish?” you ask Happy, knowing full well what would happen if your Dad, Clay, was to find out that a fellow Son is in a relationship with his long-lost daughter.

He whispers back. “Maybe.”

You know he's not a man of many words, but you have come to understand him in ways that others don't, seeing a side to him that he's never shown to anybody else. Happy doesn't need to say a thing for you to know what he wants, you can just sense it.

“Five minutes, that's all you're getting.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”

Settling himself in his favourite place—your arms—you can't help but smile. You never thought Happy would prefer to be the little spoon, but he surprisingly does. Pressing a loving kiss to the top of his head, Happy breathes a sigh of contentment in response. If life had a pause button that could make this moment last for as long as possible, Happy would press it.

“I fucking love you, Happy Lowman.”

“I fuckin' love you, baby girl.”

Losing track of time is what the pair of you do best. Five minutes pass, and you're still spooning. Every single second that he's here is a risk, but neither of you have the courage to part ways for the night. It seems that nothing can tear you both away from each other, until something does.

“Did you just fart, Hap?”

He whispers back. “Yes.”

“It's okay, release your demons.”

You soon come to regret what you've just said, as he lets rip and ultimately leaves your room stinking to high heaven.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

A Friendly Face

Nick Jakoby x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Ward’s throwing a party but you’re unsure about coming… until Nick says he’s going that is.

Word count : 2.7k

Warnings: None

Masterlist

“Hey Nick!” You exclaimed, a smile growing on your face at the sight of the Orc’s presence. You worked in the armoury so you kept a record of which officers logged out which weapons and made sure inventory was always correct at the beginning and end of your shift. Since you were never outside the precinct, you weren’t obliged to wear an official police uniform, instead you were instructed to stick to business casual clothes. Today you had adorned your black jeans with an emerald green silk blouse that had the top three buttons left undone exposing the top of your chest to anyone who looked.

Nick gave you a beaming smile in return and you couldn’t help but notice the way his ears wiggled at the tips as he did so. “Hello, Miss (Y/L/ N).” You rolled your eyes at his formalness, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me (Y/N)? Now what can I do for you?” Nick pointed to the large sack he had resting over his shoulder, taking it off to gently place it on top of the counter, “I just need these logging back in please, (Y/N)” he gave you a pointed look as he said your name like you requested and you grinned enjoying the sound of your name coming from Nick.

You couldn’t help but crush on the Orc since you’d first met him, he was unlike any other guy you’d ever met before and it intrigued you. He was easily the sweetest guy in the entire precinct and after a long shift of rude entitled uniformed officers, talking to Nick was a refreshing encounter. You had never understood the prejudice against Orcs, how could someone hold a grudge over something that happened to their ancestors over two thousand years ago. It was just ridiculous. You were one of the few that wished everyone could just live in harmony.

With a small smile, you took the heavy sack and hauled it into the back, shouting through the metal gate to Nick as you started unloading the various guns and protective plates in the bag, “So Nick, got any plans tonight?” Ward was supposedly hosting a party tonight to celebrate avoiding death and whatnot but you knew it was his excuse to get as drunk as possible with the least amount of judgement. You’d received an invitation, everyone in the precinct had in fact apart from a select few but you’d been hesitant to agree to attend. You weren’t all that close to Ward, only having a few little chats here and there when he was the one to pick up the guns. Your closest friend who was invited was Terry who worked in the armoury with you but he was working tonight and therefore wouldn’t be attending.

Your decision tonight was solely based on Nick’s answer here. If he was going, you had an excuse to look your best. If he wasn’t, well what was one more night lounging in the living room watching television and ordering takeout. Nick folded his arms over his chest, “Ward’s having a get together I guess, he wants me to go but I’m not sure if it’s my kind of scene.”

You quickly set the rest of the items in place and walked back out front, leaning over the desk, resting on your forearms placing them close together, resulting in you pushing your breasts together and making your cleavage much more prominent. “Oh! You should come, I’m going and it would be nice to have a dance partner.” You flashed him a winning smile. Nick’s eyes darted all around as he tried his hardest not to stare at the exposed skin of your cleavage, “W-well perhaps I could come for a little bit, it’s not like I have anything else to do tonight.” “Great! I’ll see you there then.”

Nick looked down to hide his blush at your obvious excitement at him agreeing to come to the party. He told himself, ‘she’s just being friendly, don’t get your hopes up’. He raised his hand up as a wave goodbye and left the room, heading back to the corridor outside where Ward had been leaning against waiting for him to return so they could hand in their end of shift report. Daryl let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his partner, “Dude finally! What took you so long man?” Ward raised an eyebrow at Nick’s flustered face before smirking, “Oh I get it, you were flirting with (Y/L/N) again huh? You know she’s coming to the party tonight”

“I-I was not flirting! (Y/N) and I were merely conversing about whether or not I was coming to said party tonight.” Ward laughed, “Oh so you guys are on a first name basis now? What happened to ‘Miss (Y/L/N)’ huh?” Ward chuckled to himself as Nick only got more flustered and tried to splutter out excuses only for Ward to shut him down, “Listen I only have the patience to say this once, she likes you man so ‘Orc up’ or whatever and ask her out at the party.” Nick didn’t respond but he thought a lot about what Ward just said on his ride home. Was it possible? Could you really like him? I mean, he had always thought your conversations had a bit of a flirty and personal tone to them but he assumed you were just being friendly. He was just grateful to meet someone who didn’t immediately hate his guts based on his appearance that he didn’t want to ruin it by looking for a deeper meaning behind everything. But lately he had to admit to himself that you’d been appearing in his thoughts more than colleagues should think about each other.

_____

You huffed as you stood in front of your full length mirror in what felt like your twentieth outfit of the night. Your hands smoothed over the harsh fabric of the denim jacket before your face twisted into a scowl and you ripped your arms out of it and threw it on your bed, along with all the other clothes you’d tried on, checked yourself out in and then decided it wasn’t flattering.

Full of nerves, you chewed on your fingernail as you stared at your open closet as if the perfect outfit was going to fling itself at you and shout ‘wear me! wear me!’ You groaned and ran a hand over your face, contemplating on cancelling the whole night ahead. It had been an hour after you’d originally come out of the shower and now you were starting to feel hot from trying on all these clothes. In your eyes nothing was looking good on you and it was making you feel worse. But no. You’d already told Nick you were gonna be there, you couldn’t cancel on him like that. Really, you were just as much looking forward to seeing him dressed in something other than a police uniform.

With a deep sigh, you dug back into your closet and pulled out a pair of high waisted dark blue jeans that hugged your ass but weren’t uncomfortably tight and flared ever so slightly at the hem to give you that extra curvy silhouette. You picked out a black corset top that pushed the girls up very nicely and sucked your waist in to appear more hourglass. You made quick work of your hair and makeup as you were beginning to run out of time. You would have put more effort into it but you’d decided to spend the first hour of getting dressed picking the wrong clothes to wear and then decided on a similar combination as you would usually choose. You placed your shoes on just as your phone buzzed to let you know that your taxi had pulled up outside. Great timing.

You had to get out a couple houses down due to the street being blocked off by many cars, of which you assumed belonged to the partygoers of tonight. The music was loud to say the least, or to put it in better terms you were glad you weren’t Ward’s neighbour. You walked the short distance down the path and saw a few of the other women attending also in jeans and you immediately felt a lot better in your outfit choice. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as you walked past the crowded yard to get inside the house to greet the host. If there was one thing your parents taught you well, it was manners. The living room was the most crowded by far, ‘Jesus’ you thought to yourself, ‘Who knew Ward had this many friends?’ You squeezed yourself through a gap just say big enough to let you pass to enter through into the kitchen. Ward, his wife, and a few others were stood with drinks in hand, seemingly deep in conversation.

You stood straight and walked over, “Hey Ward, Sherri you look amazing, I didn’t realise it was this big of a party!” It felt awkward to shout everything over the music but they seemed to hear you fine. Sherri gave you a big smile and Ward nodded, “Glad you came, your boy isn’t here yet though so here, take a drink.” Ward handed you a plastic cup with a blue liquid inside, from the smell it was surely strong enough to calm your nerves. You felt your cheeks flush at the realisation that Ward knew about your crush on Nick or vice versa but perhaps you weren’t as discreet as you had thought. As if sensing your sudden discomfort, Sherri took your arm, “Come on, let’s dance, I love this song.” Before you could protest, your left arm was pulled forward into the crowd. You recognised a few faces and got a surprisingly large amount of ‘hi!’s, smiles, even a few hugs. It was amazing how friendly people got when they were tipsy though you doubt they’d remember that small detail of the night in the morning.

Sherri had only stuck around for a few minutes before disappearing to go back to her husband’s side not that you could blame her. You glanced around but Nick was still yet to be found. You weren’t allowed to be disappointed for long before another drink was shoved into your empty hand, this time it was pink and tasted a bit sweeter. Another twenty minutes had gone by and already the air inside was far too hot for your liking. You hunched down and began the difficult journey back out onto the front yard. You finally managed to get outside and leaned against the brick wall, sighing in relief as the cool breeze washed over your skin. Your eyes were closed so it was no surprise that you jumped from the feeling of a hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you, was just making sure you were okay” you stared back into Nick’s golden eyes. They looked even more beautiful up close. Your eyes darted over his markings, trying to trace the outline across his cheeks and forehead. You took in his outfit too, his navy blue hooded jacket and white t-shirt was a little baggy and yet it made him look even broader. Nick’s physique had always struck you as impressive and your mind wandered as you thought about what it would look like underneath the clothes. “(Y/N)?” You realised you hadn’t said anything yet, “Oh! Ye-yeah I’m fine, it was just a bit hot in there I needed some fresh air.” Your eyes lowered to the drink in his hand, “How long have you been here, I didn’t see you in there?” Nick followed your eyes to his bottle of beer, “About twenty minutes, I was going to look for you but all the scents, it was a bit much.” That was partially true, all the smells mixing together was more than a bit harsh on Nick’s sensitive Orc nose but it was also that he was incredibly nervous about seeing you. Ward telling him that you liked him had him drowning in self doubt all evening, to the point he was tempted to turn around and go home as soon as he arrived if it hadn’t been for Ward calling him to let him know that you had arrived and was looking for him. He wasn’t going to tell you that though.

Your finger circled the rim of the plastic cup in your hand as your body turned to the side to face Nick, biting your lip as you tried to think of something to say. You glanced up and saw Nick looking you up and down, an unreadable expression painted on his face. A wave of embarrassment flooded you and your arms couldn’t wrap around your waist quick enough, “Why are you looking at me like that?” You said with a light laugh, trying to disguise your insecurity, assuming Nick was judging you.

“Sorry! You just look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty any other time, cause you don’t- I mean you do! I-I mean…” You couldn’t help but laugh at Nick fumbling over his words. You felt a lot better knowing you weren’t the only nervous one. Feeling a little brave from what little alcohol you had consumed, you pressed a finger against his lips to shut him up, “So you think I’m pretty?” You bit your lip and the way his cheeks turned a darker blue was merely delicious. Nick visibly swallowed, “I think you’re beautiful, and-and really nice too, like super nice, you’re probably the nicest woman I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of women. Not like that, it’s just with this job you meet a lot of people and not all of them are nice, especially humans, but you, you’ve always been nice to me.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, you felt a lot more at ease listening to Nick blabber on like he would always do during your little chats. It was so endearing, you loved it. Nick wore his heart on his sleeve and you thought it was positively adorable. When he noticed you hadn’t said anything once again, you were just smiling at him, he continued, “I don’t really know how to do this.”

“Do what?” You took a small step closer to him and his head dipped in shyness for a moment before raising it once again.

“Tell someone I like them.” Your cheeks were going to hurt soon with all the smiling you were doing. You giggled, “Me either, but we seem to be doing good so far.” At the mention of the word ‘we’ Nick’s eyes widened, “Really?” “Really.” Your attention was brought to his ears as they wiggled at the tips. Without thinking your hand reached up and you brushed your fingertips over his right ear. Your breath caught in your throat as Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Sorry, it’s just really cute when they do that.” Nick surprised you by bursting out in a laugh. At your confused expression, he explained, “That’s the first time I’ve ever been called cute.” You didn’t realise Nick was still holding onto your wrist until a pounding at the window next to you jerked you away from each other to see an inebriated Ward knocking on his living room window, his words of “Get a room!” barely audible over the music blaring out the open door. You rolled your eyes and Nick cleared his throat, “I don’t suppose you’d want to go grab a coffee sometime?”

“Why wait? I think I’ve had enough of this party to be honest.” Nick straightened up in surprise and his smile, oh his smile was just heart warming. He held his arm out for you and you happily took it, allowing him to lead you to his car at the end of the street. One of the good things about LA was that there was always somewhere open to get a coffee. As Nick’s hand rested on your thigh during the drive, you thought, perhaps you should go to parties more often.

[kiss-theggoat]

Think I’ll Keep You PT. 2

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: You’ve been locked under Bo’s gas station for more than a month now when you finally start to think… maybe Ambrose isn’t so bad.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Canon Typical Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Bo is mean and manipulative (but isn’t he just so dreamy), reader has female anatomy and is referred to as “pretty girl” a few times

The buzzing yellow lights of the gas station basement became a sound you were used to as you woke up to them every single morning. You’d graduated from being duct taped to a random chair in the middle of the room, to just being locked inside with somewhat free roam. This had become a new normal. You’d hum as you walked around the room, trying to avoid Bo’s disturbing collection of perverted Polaroid photos. Looking at them worried you, and you wondered how long he kept each of those women. How much time you had left.

Free time in the basement was spent listening to Bo’s music while he worked, muffled by the floor. Waiting for Bo to be done so he could come spend time with you, this time either consisted of three things. Option one, he’d fuck you, then leave. Option two, he’d beat you, then leave. Option three, your favorite, he’d come down and talk with you for a bit. He’d sit on the nasty mattress on the other side of the room, and you’d talk about him, his brothers, his dog. Anything really. This option sometimes led to him taking you up to take a shower or getting you a change of clothes.

Unfortunately, your behavior didn’t affect which option you got. It was all up to how Bo was feeling that particular day. At first, you hated him. You hated him and his stupid gorgeous face, his dumb basement and the way he treated you. But the longer you stayed down here, hot, bored, and lonely, the more and more you looked forward to Bo’s visits, even if they resulted in bruises and cuts. Any attention was good attention, especially from Bo.

Today was day… you’d lost count. You tried to scratch tally’s into the wall, but gave up on day 29. This was at least a week ago. All you know is that it’s been more than a month. A month is all it took for you to become attached to Bo…

You could hear him walking around above you, turning on the radio and you thought today he must be in a good mood. You could hear him humming along to the music, moving around the gas station a lot more than usual. From what you could see through the grate, the sun was shining, but it didn’t feel as hot as it had been weeks before. A beautiful day outside. You wished you could see the sun, touch the grass. Bo made you jealous when he was talking about playing fetch with Daisy, Bo’s pitbull.

You sighed softly, standing on the chair in the center to peek through the grate. The yearning you felt was unmatched. You wanted him to be down here. More so, you wanted to be up there, but with him. You wanted to help him in the gas station, play with him and his dog bathed the beautiful blue sky with the warm wind blowing through your hair. But you knew asking for this wouldn’t blow over well. You’d never asked to leave the basement, you knew it’d make him mad.

How could you get him down here, convince him that you wanted to stay here, with him. You decided to try to get his attention, despite the music blaring, you needed him to hear you. You looked around for something to get his attention. After not seeing anything to make enough noise, you got an idea. You unbuttoned the pair of Jean shorts he had given you a couple days ago, sliding them off and holding them while pushing the button up.

You slid the button up and down the grate, making a loud clattering noise that was loud enough, at least you hoped it was. You did this for a couple seconds until you finally heard the music turn down, you knew it had worked. Sliding the shorts back on your legs distracted you from the crunching footsteps as boots approached the grate.

Bo crouched over it, staring at you from outside. He looked handsome today.

“What can I do for ya, Darlin’?”

“Can I talk to you please?” You asked softly, keeping your hands down at your sides.

He chuckled. He seemed amused with your question. “Shoot.”

“Can I…come out please? I…I want to, uhm… it looks nice out today and I thought…maybe I could help you around town. Meet Daisy. Or Vincent.” You stared up at him, having to squint with how bright the sun was on your eyes, which had been accustomed to the dark lighting of the basement.

He stared down at you, way too long for your comfort. His face revealed nothing, features stoic and unmoving, until he finally spoke. “Help me around town?”

You nodded quickly. He sighed, turning his head to state off into the distance. “Listen sweetheart, there’s a lotta stuff to do today…”

“I can help, I promise. I just want to…hang out with you, I guess.”

He snorted. “Hang out?” He shook his head a little bit. “You’re a weird one. Alright, gimme a second.”

You saw him walk away, and after a few seconds, heard him coming down the stairs. Your heart could jump from your chest. Excitement coursed through your veins, your smile wouldn’t leave. The lock clicked and the knob turned, revealing Bo, looking handsome as ever.

You slowly walked forward, needing approval from him to get close to him. He reached forward and grabbed your arm. “You stick with me. Got it?”

You nodded. He held your bicep, hard, and yanked you close, whispering in your ear. “If you run, you’re as good as dead.”

Staring into his eyes, you knew he was serious. You didn’t want to run anyways, you just needed to be outside. He led you up the stairs slowly, and you squinted immediately when the sunlight hit your skin. The glowing light engulfed you. You felt direct warmth on you for the first time in weeks. A sigh of relief left you. You felt like you could cry. The breeze moved over you, and you could smell the sweet blooming trees, and thankfully none of the roadkill that Bo’s brother, Lester collects.

A smile split your cheeks. “It’s so nice today.” You said softly, turning to Bo who still had a grip on your bicep. He was staring at you, a look of surprised affection on his face. If you weren’t so focused on enjoying the outside, you’d have seen the way he watched you walk, fondness softening his eyes.

“Alright darlin’ let’s getcha cleaned up.”

An hour later, you had showered, changed into fresh clothes, and you were convinced this was heaven on earth. You felt so happy and close to Bo, being in his home during the day with him giving you the freedom to shower alone. An air of domesticity settled in the house as you walked down the stairs, where you were met with Bo finishing a beer, half of a sandwich left on his plate. He held it out to you, and you very gladly accepted it.

After your shower and lunch, you and Bo walked up to the gas station. “Okay pretty girl, I need you to clean up a bit here. I’m gonna be in the garage workin’ on Lester’s truck. That sound manageable?”

You nodded quickly, smiling at him. You immediately grabbed the cleaning supplies underneath the front counter. The supplies were old and nearly empty, but you could work with them. You began with dusting the counters and shelves, and then wiping things down with Clorox wipes. You cleaned for a while, losing track of time, only being pulled from your trance by the phone ringing.

You jumped. There was a phone in this place? You turned to see Bo answer it, his face scrunched with frustration. He spoke quietly, you couldn’t understand him, but it didn’t look good. The last thing you wanted was for him to take this out on you, so you started to clean as fast as you possibly could, sanitizing and reorganizing what was left on the rickety shelves, looking back at him every so often. The second time you looked back, he was gone. You turned back to the shelf, jumping when you noticed he was standing right next to you.

You stared up at him in fear, nervous for what he was going to say to you.

“Lester just called and let me know there’s a group comin into town.” He said in a hushed tone.

You froze. A group. Just like yours. You knew this was a scheme they had, Bo explained a little bit to you about what him and Vincent wanted from Ambrose, but seeing them plan it out this way was so eye opening. Your heart began racing, but you nodded at him.

“I need ya down in the basement until they leave. And I need ya silent.” He turned to look through the glass of the gas station. “Ah shit… okay. Stay here.”

Bo walked quickly out of the gas station, and you heard him talk, the same exact spiel he gave you. “What can I do for y’all?”

You heard another man speak. “You Bo? We need a fan belt.” You walked quickly to the window, trying to stay hidden behind a shelf. You made eye contact with one of the girls standing outside. You knew you were in trouble, you quickly ran back over to the shelf you were cleaning.

The door opened, and a group of young adults, seemingly just a bit younger than you, walked inside. You kept your eyes down on the shelf, but started to hum a song to seem more casual about being there. Bo’s voice was loud, louder than usual, and you know that he wanted you to hear what he was saying.

“I got some fan belts in the garage, don’t know if I got the size you need. If not, I got some more up at my house. Not too far away from here.”

The group didn’t answer him, instead, the guy who asked Bo for help in the first place followed him into the garage, along with a girl. Two others walked into the store part of the station, where you were currently pretending to be much busier than you actually were.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You froze. They were most definitely speaking to you. With your best and most convincing smile on, you turned around to look at them. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I use the restroom?”

You were stiff. Frozen. You couldn’t approve it and make a decision without Bo, but your adamant refusal might seem suspicious and tip them off that something was wrong.

“Sorry…out a order. Toilet’s not workin’…” you said with a smile and a shrug, putting on your best southern drawl. It sounded dramatic, but better than nothing.

“Does… any other store in town have one?”

“Not sure…I know Bo’s got a workin’ one at his place.” You said, nodding your head towards Bo and the other guy, who just received the news that Bo only had a 15 or 22 inch fan belt, not a 17. Watching the other kids walk towards Bo, you felt sorry for them. You knew exactly what was about to happen…but at the same time, you were upset at them. Angry at them for jeopardizing your time outside. This could make Bo decide he never wants to take you out again. You scowled at the group, arms crossing and body tilting to lean on one hip.

“I’m sure I got a 17 up at the house. Really, it’s not far.” Bo insisted, casually against the counter, the same counter where he had flirted with you weeks ago. The same counter where you cemented your fate here in Ambrose.

You watched the kids follow Bo sullenly, knowing what was going to happen to them. You had a feeling Bo wanted you back in the basement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back down those disgusting creaky stairs, so you sat and waited for any sign of life.

You thought it’d never come. You thought Bo had killed all the kids and was too busy to come check on you, that was until around 11 pm. It was pitch black at this point, crickets chirping and cold breeze alleviating the suffocating humidity. A red handprint had shown up on your cheek from how you were leaning against your hand. You’d found an old magazine to read through, but seeing as most of this was from around ten years ago, it wasn’t the least bit interesting.

The door to the gas station swung open, hitting the wall behind it hard, nearly hard enough to break the window seated within. You nearly jumped out of your skin, stool screeching against the floor as you stood abruptly.

It was the man who had first asked about the toilet. Your entire body was stiff. What the hell were you supposed to do?

“Oh thank god! Please, please you have to help me, someone’s killing us! My friends, she’s…they’re dead…please, please do you have a phone?!” The man ran towards you, getting close enough to show you a pretty sizeable gash in his forehead, blood leaking into his right eye. You didn’t know what to do, so you decided to stall.

“Alright, calm down, tell me what happened…”

“We went to the house, the guy that took us fucking killed Rob! The lights all went out and I ran out of the house, Jessica was killed outside, please!”

He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. Your heart broke for him, but you knew if you showed him the phone, Bo would kill you. He’d hate you. That was almost worse to you at this point. You looked outside the window. No sign of Bo.

“Where…where’s he now? Bo, the man that took you to the house?”

“I don’t fucking know, please just get me a phone!”

“Alright just…just sit here I’ll go get the phone.” You guided him over to your stool, watching him hesitantly take a seat and touch the wound on his forehead. He winced. You walked away, out of his sight. You were shaking, had absolutely no idea what to do, you paced and chewed on your fingernail. That was until you bumped into Bo’s workbench. Looking over at the wooden surface to a hammer sitting out in the open, almost like a sign, an answer from Bo himself.

The handle of the hammer felt rough, almost spiky in your soft palm. Soft footsteps led you back towards the poor innocent kid who was cradling his head in his hands. Once you stood on the other side of the counter, his eyes raised to meet yours, and it occurred to you how suspicious you looked, fake smile plastered on your face, hands behind your back.

He tensed up. “Where’s your phone?” He asked quietly. It was obvious at this point he didn’t trust you.

You needed to do this now, your courage was fading fast. “I’m sorry…” you mumbled. You pulled the hammer back behind your head, closed your eyes, and swung it as hard as you could. With a sickening crack and a thud, you knew that you’d just killed someone. You dropped the hammer and turned around, your heart was pounding, chest heaving, stomach churning.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

You knew that smooth voice from anywhere. You turned to see Bo, a shocked expression on his face. Thank god he was here. Without thinking of the consequences you walked to him quickly, wrapping your arms tight around his waist.

“I didn’t know what to do.” You whispered into his chest, inhaling his scent that was so uniquely him. Sweat, grease, cigarette smoke, and manly cologne. You could feel yourself calming down, and with this came the realization that he was holding you. He didn’t push you off or tell you to let go, his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, his head placed atop yours in an almost romantic embrace. Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly, he was all you could think about. Nothing else mattered.

“You did good, darlin’.”

You didn’t want to move, you hoped this would never end. Bo’s hands slowly trailed from the sides of your arms, to the center of your shoulders, down your spine to the small of your back with no intention of stopping. They hit the waistline of your shorts, where you felt deft fingers slip beneath.

“My pretty girl, hm?” His voice reverberated in his chest against your ear. You looked up at him to finally see his face close up. Sweaty, cuts on his lip and blood staining his nose. He’d never looked better. You leaned forward and kissed him, hard. Something Bo and you had never done. Bo’s had his way with you many times, but they were all cold, for his couple minutes of fun and nothing more. He’s never kissed you, held you, complimented you this much.

His hands went up your shirt, squeezing your chest tight in his rough palms. A whimper escaped your lips to find refuge in his, your needy hands tugging at the collar of his coveralls. You could feel the cocky smirk he wore as he muttered, “Patience, sweetheart.”

Patience? You felt like you’ve been “patient” for the last month. Screw patience. One hand moved lower, palming his growing bulge through the thick material. A small, heavenly groan left him, but you were distracted by your shirt being yanked over your head. Your bare chest was on display, and though this has happened time and time before, you felt nervous this time. Like this was the time that really counted. You decided that to you, this was your first time sleeping with Bo. That made you happier.

Strong hands slid over the backs of your thighs down to your knees, you squealed as your feet left the ground. Bo heaved you up, your legs tight around his waist and his hands on your ass the entire time he carried you to the counter. The second he sat you down, he was unbuttoning your shorts, pulling them down all the way over your shoes, which he didn’t bother to take off.

It felt like a match sparked as he slammed his lips against yours again. He unzipped the front of his coveralls as he distracted you, letting them fall to his waist. He wore only a sweaty, bloody white t-shirt and a pair of boxers beneath. He decided taking everything off would be too much time wasted, so he grabbed the waistline of your underwear, pulled them off your legs, then pushed his own over his thighs, just enough. You wanted to see more of him, but figured that'd come in due time.

Almost without warning, Bo was pushing himself into you. Even though you were accustomed to his size, it still burned whenever he decided to fuck you. This time you were more prepared though, making the initial sting less intense. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, feet hooked around his hips. He leaned over you, pushing completely inside you.

“That’s it, darlin…” he groaned, head leaning back. You thought you might melt, the way he spoke to you, the way his veins flexed whenever he grabbed onto your hand, the way his neck muscles tensed while he talked. Everything about him to you was perfect.

Your coherent thoughts were quickly overrun by overwhelming pleasure, Bo thrusting at a slow and steady pace, something he doesn’t usually do. He was fucking you different, and you had never been more thankful for anything in your entire life. This was the best you’ve felt all month. Scratch that, at this point, you can’t remember feeling such a sense of pride and accomplishment ever, even before you stumbled upon Ambrose.

Bo captured your lips in a needy kiss and you could taste the warm blood from his small cuts there. You didn’t mind. Your trembling hands came up to cup his face, holding him as close to your body as physically possible. Loud moans forced you to separate, but you rested your forehead against his, feeling each jagged breath and bead of sweat. His eyes were closed, and from the looks of it, he was close. You knew you were too, you could feel it in your stomach and your legs and your chest. Your entire body was on fire and Bo was to blame.

He held onto your hand, face scrunched in pleasure and voice raising a few octaves, forehead still flush with yours.

“Bo…” you moaned, “I’m gonna cum.” The sentence barely left your lips, your brain felt like a bowl of melted goo.

He groaned out a response, and your chest swelled with pride knowing you made him feel like this. “Cum for me pretty girl,” he moaned, a slight whine present in his voice.

That was all you needed. With a scream, you came, trying as hard as you could to keep your eyes open to focus on Bo as he came. He grabbed your hips tight, thrusting hard one last time as he came inside you.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you panted to catch your breath, legs dangling uselessly off of the counter. You held onto him for dear life, fingers anchored in the skin of his back. You didn’t want him just to leave, ruin the moment, validate your fear that you were crazy and this time wasn’t different, you just thought it was.

You tensed when you felt him kiss the side of your neck. He was still holding onto you, bodies pressed against each other.

“I was right y’ know…” he said softly.

You responded, “hm?”

“About someone like you livin’ here. Makes Ambrose a little bit better.”

Your heart could melt. Bo was hard on you, and some days, all you could think about was your parents, who were probably worried sick looking for you. But, if this is what life could be like here in Ambrose, you weren’t sure you ever wanted to leave.

A/N: I wasn’t really sure where to go with this one but I actually really like it! Feel free to leave comments or suggestions for new stories, I need some ideas :)

[yourstrqly]

nsfw alphabet, darwin nunez

pairing: darwin nunez x fem!reader

warnings: smut

authors note: finally wrote a bit after two weeks if I remember correctly. got bad news from my doc and everything's too much rn but life goes on. hope you'll enjoy this!

rina's masterlist & nsfw alp. masterlist

aftercare

Darwin loves when you message his back and shoulders; you stop every once in a while to press a soft kiss on his hot skin and whisper words of love and appreciation to him — that'd might even be his favourite part of the whole thing.

In turn the Uruguayan will clean you off of all kinds of fluids that are still glued to your skin with a cloth he had laid on the sidetable beforehand. Gently, he grasps your hands to kiss them, then he'll let his lips wander upwards to your throat where he gives you a few sneaky but nonetheless sensual lovebits.

 body parts

Oh he does love your delicate fingers; whenever he eats you out or fucks you, you'll immediately let your fingers tug his brown hair as if it going to relief you. Also he can't stop himself to go feral whenever your fingers grasp his length, gliding up and down whilst you suck its head, cheeks hallowed and tongue dancing around the few inches in your warm mouth.

You on the other hand like his nose; it presses deliciously to your clit when he gives head.

cum

there's no better feeling than you giving him head, struggling to fit his dick in your mouth, which results in tears escaping the cornors of your eyes, and swallowing every drop he grants you. It's even better when you sixty nine, as he gets off when you orgasm around his flat tongue and thick fingers.

 dirty secret

Although he's the more dominant of the two of you, he doesn't mind when you take the reigns, pinning him on the mattress and ride his length as he has to beg you to let him cum.

 experience

The Liverpool Striker hadn't got many sexual partners before meeting you but he knows how to push your buttons right after the first few times.

 favourite position

It depends on his mood; sometimes he wants to do nothing, too tired, so he lets you ride him and on the other side he has days where he wants to please you with missionary followed by sixty nine.

 goofy

Have you seen him? He's got no problem to put his seriousness aside to make you giggle and relax; laughing's a part of taking the sex to another level.

hair

Darwin likes to describe himself as always being high maintenance; he ain't fully shaved down there but keeps it trimmed to your liking.

intimacy

If there was to get a master in romance, he'd definitely would be the one to get it. There are no walls he wouldn't climb up to reach the sky, to get you the best. He's done it all; a trail of rose patel to your bedroom, candles lit up, a getaway over the weekend to whatever location you had talked to him weeks and months ago.

 jack off

Before he had grown balls to ask you out, he would get himself off one to three times a week as a way to release stress and pent up pleasure. Once he met up with a woman from his instagram dms, leaving him absolutely unsatisfied — he had counted the time before he spilled himself down her back (though he had imagined you instead of the woman he had fucked). The fantasies about you didn't stop, which finally pushed him in your direction.

 kink

In his opinion there's nothing sexier than edging you whenever it's with his fingers, tongue or dick, he loves you begging for release. Darwin isn't into public sex but if you wishes to do it, he won't deny your request.

 location

Probably likes to have his way with you on a bed just because its the comfiest place in the shared flat however he sometimes likes to fuck you on the kitchen counter when you're sitting on it, reading a book or stuff on social media with a cup of coffee, wearing nothing more than a tee and panties.

 motivation

Honestly, it's when you start to sext him. First it's innocent like you posing in a new article of clothes but as soon as he zooms the picture he sees your underwear — from there its escalating quickly; if you're home you'll send him a nude trying to get him home as fast as possible to fuck you.

 no go

Darwin can't stand anything which could leave ugly bruises like candle wax; he's got no issue to push slight pressure on your throat nor prints of his hands on your hips but he ain't a fan of serious bruising. Even if you'd beg him he would deny it; its a turn off to him.

 oral

As mentioned before, he loves both but if he has to choose it'd be giving. Seeing you whimper, begging for another finger drives him crazy — and the taste's undeniably good. It's not a task for him but pleasure and once he even got off to watching you orgasm on his tongue.

 pace

After a win, still high with adrenaline, he’ll fuck you rough, deep and slow, dragging his length along your tight walls as he holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently across it to your lips. He doesn't have to say anything, you'll open your month while holing eye contact, sucking on it like it's a lollipop.

When the team loses, he’ll enjoy getting all the care you've got; most of the times it's you, kneeling between his legs to suck him off, other times you’d ride him sensual. One hand holds his and the other on his stomach supports your body weight. You kiss him all over the face, showing you that a lose on the pitch isn't going to make you appreciate him less; he's still the man in your eyes, a true winner — the winner of your heart, body and soul.

 quickie

He's into quickies, not gonna lie. Before you have to leave him to go on your merry way, you'll wake up in his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. As a result of trying to stand up, he'll awake and pull you right back into his arms. There's no time for foreplay, meaning you'll have to make it work; chasing your highs as Darwin fills you up, trying to avoid making a mess of the bed sheets — neither of you want to wash them every other day.

risk

You're the one to suggests to try new things you had heard from your girl friends or read somewhere as long as you both are in the boad; he's definitely up for the risks as long as you can't get caught by (random) people.

stamina

He can make himself go for a good hour or more as long as he isn't buried in your wet pussy; the feeling is just to good to last that long.

toy

The Uruguayan knows of your toys however he doesn't like to use them on you; when he's away for a game he doesn't mind that you're using them as he knows that he satisfys you better.

unfair

The man's into edging — he could edge you up to fourty minutes, but he'll eventually lose his patience and fucks the shit out of you, practically making you a ruined mess.

volume

He doesn't give a fuck how loud he is; you make him feel too good to not groan out loud. His deep one's mixed with your higher moans is his favourite type of melody.

wild card

Darwin likes to wear fitting bottoms, preferably light colours, and walks around the flat in just those, teasing the fuck out off you.

x—ray

Darwin’s more on the bulky side; all sharp angles and sun-kissed skin, with strong, prominent muscles like some of his teammates. He enjoys his time in the gym, that’s for sure.

The sheer size of his cock had actually startled you. You were genuinely worried if he was too big for you when you first got a glimpse of what's he packed. He's about 6 ½ inches when he's hard, the thickest you had and slightly curved to the left.

yearing

His yearing to have sex is relatively high at the beginning of your relationship, getting frustrated easy if he can't have his way with you.

It gets constantly better as the relationship growns and feeling turn more and more serious by the minute — simple contact like holding hands or a soft squeeze to the side gives him another kind of pleasure.

 zzz

It depends if how hard pushed you and how many rounds you had — most of the time a ten minute message for him and a bit of gossiping while cuddling is doable.

[7-wonders]

Apocalypse Now

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XII)

Summary: The end is here, despite your best efforts.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm sorry, this is straight angst. Oops?

Mad Love Masterlist

Tuesdays are objectively the worst day of the week. Though Monday is rough, being the first day after the weekend, it can still be spun as a positive—a brand new week, just full of possibilities. Wednesdays, at least, have the “hump day” moniker to give one some hope that the week is half over. Thursdays are alright because that means it’s almost Friday, and Fridays are what it must be like to take every party drug at once.

Tuesdays, though? Tuesdays suck. It’s far enough into the week to feel none of the residual weekend happiness, but the upcoming weekend is still very much out of grasp. Tuesday is hopelessness personified, if one is feeling particularly dramatic.

That’s why it’s fitting that the world ends on a Tuesday.

You’re in class, because where else would you be? Luckily, this is your capstone class, which is just a class for seniors who are, predictably, working on their capstones to be able to bounce ideas off of and support each other. Since you and Kate are both seniors (and because you literally signed up for this class at the same time) you have the class together, thankfully—you keep each other sane by being insane together, and nowhere is that more apparent than when the two of you work on your respective theses.

“You think I can get away with calling Kant a cunt if I do it, like, academically?” Kate whispers into your ear from where she’s sitting next to you. She keeps her eyes on her laptop screen the entire time, making you choke back a laugh at her easy nonchalance.

“Not by using those exact words, but yeah, as long as you cite your sources.” You run the same drill as Kate, refusing to look away and draw suspicion as you both snicker quietly to yourselves. “Do you wanna grab coffee and pretend to keep working after class?”

“God, yes. Then I can tell you about what went down at last night’s Greek Life exec meeting.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “It came out that three of the Chi O sisters are dating each other.”

(With hindsight on your side, you’ll look back on this day and think with bitter regret about how utterly, perfectly normal the day the world ended was. The gossiping conversations, the plans being made, the going about your day with all the confidence that you’ll see tomorrow.

You miss that innocence.)

You gasp under your breath at this exciting tidbit. “No way! How did they–”

You’re cut off by the alarm on someone’s phone blaring. No, multiple phones are blaring out an emergency alarm, and those that aren’t are vibrating, yours included. People dig their phones out of pockets and backpacks, and you pick yours up from where it sits on the table next to your computer and flip it around so that you can see the screen.

You wish you didn’t.

“BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND. SEEK SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” the alert on your phone reads.

You look up at Kate as your classmates begin to mutter around you in a mix of nervous laughter and disbelief, only to see the same shock and confusion on her face that must surely be reflected in yours.

“Do you think this is real?” you ask, your heart beginning to hammer in your throat at the implications of such a message.

“It can’t be. It’s–it’s like that time in Hawaii, remember? We’ll get an alert in a few minutes saying that it was all a mistake,” she assures you, always so calm and rational about everything.

You nod and take a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Kate is right, you tell yourself. Somebody accidentally hit a button at a command center when they were trying to conduct a test, and now everybody’s freaking out as a result. They’ve probably already caught the mistake and are preparing to do damage control. The employee will lose their job, unfortunately, but that’s to be expected when accidentally causing mass panic. All in all, this will make a fun story in a couple of years: the time you thought you were about to be caught up in nuclear warfare.

Screaming draws your attention to the large windows to the right of you, and you and others cross the room to see what the commotion is. Outside, people of all ages are running in various directions across campus for—well, for their lives. The way everyone hurries reminds you of watching an ant farm. Someone trips and goes sprawling to their hands and knees, only to have to roll to the grass to prevent almost being trampled. Their belongings, having fallen from their grasp, are kicked and scattered without any care.

The panic from outside leaches through the wall and begins to spread through the classroom like a fast-moving disease. Warning sirens, which you didn’t know were still in operation after the Cold War, begin to wail. Some classmates start trying to reach friends or loved ones on their phones, while others just make a break for the door. At the front of the room, your professor sits, paralyzed, with tears running down his face while he scrolls his social media and tries to find anything to confirm that this is all just a terrible misstep. 

Your stomach drops like you’re lurching down from the top of a very tall roller coaster, and you look back at Kate. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” she asks. You just shake your head, throwing everything into your backpack and zipping it up before grabbing Kate’s hand. You don’t know where it is you need to go, only that you can’t stay here. Taking one last look back at the classroom to make sure you have everything, you and Kate join the flow of people heading down the stairs to try and escape.

Hand in hand so as not to get separated in the crowd, you both run through the campus green. It’s a perfect late-autumn day, really. The sun is high in the blue, cloudless sky and the temperature is warm, but with a bit of a chill from the wind. It’s the type of weather that makes you want to spend all day outside so as not to waste it. The juxtaposition, between the pleasant weather and the chaotic, frightened atmosphere, is not lost on you.

“Wait,” Kate raises her voice to be heard over the panicked din, “we need a plan.”

You wrack your brain, trying to think of anything beyond how scared you are. “Uh…we’ll get in my car, okay? I filled up on gas this morning. And–and we’ll drive as fast as we can, to get as far away as we can before the blast happens. I think we can get out of the major blast zone.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds good.” 

She nods at you, and you nod back, both trying to reassure the other. The parking lot appears as you round a corner, and you tear your backpack around to your front so that you can find your keys.

“Wait!” Kate says again. “What about Brennan? And Michael?”

Hearing Michael’s name sends alarm bells flaring in the back of your mind. There’s something about him and this nightmare that are connected, but the primal parts of your brain, the one telling you that flight is the best option for survival right now, is too active for you to have any sort of introspection in this moment.

“Call them,” you answer without hesitation, “we can pick them up on the way out of town.”

Kate grabs her phone, finding Brennan’s number and hitting ‘call’ before holding the device up to her ear. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she mutters, listening closely. “Fuck! I can’t get through.”

“Keep trying. One has to go through eventually. And if they don’t, we at least know where they both are.”

“Do you really think this is going to work? That we’re going to survive?” Kate asks, dialing Brennan once more.

The truth is that you don’t know. You hope it does, that you can at least give yourself a fighting chance to not immediately die when the missiles hit. But there’s just as big a chance that you can’t make it out, that you will die. That’s terrifying, and it makes your throat tighten from terror. The only thing that keeps you from outright freaking out is that, if you do die, at least you’ll have Kate right there next to you.

“I don’t know. But I can promise you that we’re going to try our hardest to survive,” you say.

You can see your car now, only a couple of rows away. Maybe you will actually make it. Maybe this plan will work, and the four of you will end up riding out the end of the world together. Maybe survival can happen; you’re all pretty resourceful, and if you can at least get past the blasts, you can—

An armored vehicle screeches to a halt in front of you, sending you and Kate rearing back as your path is cut off. Two figures dressed in black suits hop out and begin to walk towards you with a purpose. Behind them, military personnel also exit the vehicle. Immediately, your worst fears are confirmed, and you know what this must be. Trying to avoid the inevitable, you begin taking hurried steps back.

One of the men in black says your name. “You need to come with us,” he commands.

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to run to your left, hoping to catch them off-guard and make a break for it, but the other man in black stands in front of you.

“I’m afraid we can’t accept that,” he says, motioning for the military personnel. 

Two of them approach you, their rifles belted to their fronts and serving as a menacing reminder that you have no power here. They each grab one arm and begin to drag you towards the vehicle, paying no mind to you as you start screaming and trying to fight your way out of their grasps. You hold desperately onto Kate’s hand for as long as you can, but it’s only a matter of time before you lose your hold.

“Wait! Where are you taking her?” you hear Kate yell behind you.

“Kate! Kate!” you shriek, high and piercing and terrified. 

You look over your shoulder to see two other soldiers blocking her from reaching you. You’re both sobbing, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it. You’re unceremoniously thrown into the backseat of the armored vehicle, the door slamming shut before you can even think to move. Up front, the driver throws it into gear and peals away from the parking lot. When you scramble to your knees, you’re forced to watch as Kate’s figure rapidly grows smaller and smaller.

“Please go back! You have to take Kate, too! Please!” you beg.

“Shut up!” One of the men shoves you down into your seat, and when you try to get up, he backhands you across the face.

“Hey, be careful with her!” another warns. “You remember what they said. No harm is to come to the boss’s wife.”

The pain of the slap has you reeling, but it also serves to clear your mind enough that the reality of what was just said begins to sink in. You’re apparently the boss’s wife, which means one thing and one thing only.

He’s done it, then? This is all the doing of one Michael Langdon, who for so long swore to you that the world would not end for years, that you would be well aware of when and if his plans were going to be realized? You don’t want to believe it, but, unfortunately, it’s the reality that you seem to be faced with. In response, your tears dry up, and you sit silently and stoically for the rest of the ride.

It’s not a very long journey to wherever you’re being taken to, maybe fifteen minutes or so before the truck is driven into a garage. You look out the back window again to see the garage door closing behind you, the rectangle of light growing smaller and smaller until it finally disappears. Deep down, you know that this was probably your last time seeing the sunlight. You don’t know whether watching it will make you feel better or worse.

The soldiers drag you out of the car just as they dragged you in, marching you through what looks like an underground parking garage towards an elevator and forcing you to stand between them as the men in black join your little group. One of them reaches out a hand, gloved in black leather, so they can stab at the control panel. Even though they press the topmost button, the elevator begins to move down.

The silence begins to stretch on, and you shift uncomfortably. “Is my—” your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “Is Michael here?”

Predictably, they ignore you, staring straight ahead at their distorted reflections in the chrome doors.

When the doors do finally ding open, they reveal what looks like the living room of an apartment. The walls are bare, but there are all the normal furnishings that one would expect to find: a couch, a TV, a coffee table. There are no windows, you note, the only light available emitting harshly from the fixtures up above. You’re sat down on the couch, and you glare petulantly at your kidnappers.

“Where are we?” you demand. “I deserve answers.”

“You’ll be safe here,” one of them says instead of answering your question. 

Single-file, they move back into the elevator, presumably to return to the surface. As the doors shut once more, you hold eye contact with the soldier that hit you.

He looks at you in fear, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly.

The elevator whirs back to life as it begins its travels up, and the sound serves to jolt you out of your stunned state and remind you that you have free will. You jump up from the couch and run to the elevator, hoping for a way out. There’s no call panel on the wall next to it, meaning that the only way it can be accessed is from the inside. Effectively, you’re trapped.

Panic returns in full-force at this revelation, and you frantically start trying to get your fingers into the seam of the door. Maybe if you pull hard enough, you’ll be able to pry them open? You’re not sure what you’ll do after that, but at least then you’ll have options.

Just as you’re starting to delude yourself that you think you can feel a gap widening under your grip, an explosion rocks the world above you. It’s loud, louder than you thought possible for how far below ground you must be, and you scream as you fall to the floor. The shock of the blast reverberates all the way down to what must be the Earth’s core, causing the room to shake around you. The lights flicker and go out before being replaced by an eerie red glow, and an alarm starts to methodically sound.

A sob rips from you, your heart knowing what’s just happened before your brain can come to the same conclusion. A nuclear weapon, dropped right over your head. Death and destruction wreaking havoc on the world in a matter of seconds. Mere circumstance saving you, while those you love are left to perish.

Against your will, you’re forced to imagine the scenarios. Kate was probably still outside, nowhere near any sort of safety. Brennan must have been so worried, trying just as desperately until his last moments to try and reach Kate. Mallory, you know, would have been more worried for her students, for her girls, than herself. Your parents…fuck. You didn’t even get to tell your parents you love them. The grief is overwhelming, and threatens to swallow you whole.

A hand comes to rest under your chin, lifting your face up from where it’s been hanging in despair. Through tears, you see a figure with blue eyes and golden hair crouched in front of you. Their thumb gently presses on your lip, and you inhale sharply at the pain, the source of which must have been the slap.

“Who did this to you? Was it one of the personnel who brought you here?” he asks, fury in his tone.

“Michael,” you cry out, letting him collect you in his embrace. He’s so comforting, so familiar, that you can forget for a moment that he’s the source of your current agony.

“Oh my love, it’s alright. We’re both safe,” he soothes, rubbing a hand on your back as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you beforehand, but these plans were extremely confidential.”

That reminds you who it is you’re crying on, and you pull yourself up off of his shoulder. Michael’s looking down at you with all the love in the world in his eyes and frowning just slightly in sympathy for your plight.

Rage, hot and incandescent, floods through your veins.

“You did this, then?” you ask.

He smiles proudly. “As I was born to do.”

“And…everybody’s dead?” Your voice comes out strangled, though you try your hardest to school your emotions.

“Not everybody. Those that managed to earn a spot in an Outpost are all alive and well. There will be a good number of people who were far enough away from blast zones to have survived the initial blast. The fallout will take care of them within a couple years, though.” He shakes his head in pity. “Nasty thing, nuclear fallout. If exposed for even a few minutes, cancer and sores can easily develop. Mutations as well.”

That sounds horrifying. However morbid it may be, for the sake of those you love, you hope that the blasts killed them.

The look on your face must match how you’re feeling, because Michael quickly takes your hands in his. “I know, it sounds terrible. But their deaths were necessary! They fulfill a purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“To cleanse the world and remake it in my father’s image, for you and I to rule as we see fit.”

A wave of nausea takes over you, and you have to close your eyes and breathe deeply to keep from becoming sick. You stand, backing away from Michael as quickly as you can. He tries to follow, but you hold your hands out in front of you to stop him from coming any closer.

“You bastard,” you whisper.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”

You look up at him, fire in your eyes. “You. Bastard.”

“You don’t really mean that.” You can’t tell if he’s in disbelief or if he’s challenging you to repeat that.

“Yes, I do. You killed them! You killed all of them, for no good reason—”

“You know the reason!” he yells, grabbing onto your upper arms and pulling you to him. Though you try to fight your way out of his grasp, your resistance is futile. “I am doing this for us,” he hisses. “So that we can have the future we’ve dreamed about, the future that we’ve earned with our hard work.”

“This is not the future I dreamed about.” You shove him away, making him glare at you as though you’re his enemy.

Your Michael, the one that you know and love, is nowhere to be seen. Gone is the Michael that would tell you everything. The Michael that researched grad schools as though he was the one that would be attending, the Michael that took a body shot off of you, the Michael that lit up the first time that he saw fireflies, the Michael that loved Valentine’s Day because it meant that he got to shower you in love and there was nothing you could do about it.

Now, there’s a man wearing your husband’s face, who stands before you unrepentant and assured in his actions. This stranger has been completely and utterly corrupted by his father, and in such a short amount of time. As it turns out, all of your hard work only served to send him quicker into the throes of darkness.

  “I don’t know who you are anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

“This is who I have always been,” he proclaims proudly. “You just haven’t wanted to see it.”

“You’re a fucking monster.” Amidst all of the uncertainty that you’re currently faced with, through all of the horror you’ve been forced to endure in one day, this is what you can be certain of.

Michael smiles patronizingly, as though you’re a mere child who insists that the bogeyman is real and he’s the adult that knows better. “You’ll come to your senses. Just give it some time.”

He grabs your hand against your will, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. 

“Soon, our reign begins.”

//

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox @ajokeformur-ray

(I really don't know why I still do a tag list. Habit, I suppose.)

[ladyloveandjustice]

i really wish people on that "does it like women" blog would only vote on polls for media they're actually familiar with instead of just basing their opinions on what others are saying in the notes... like if you haven't watched/played/read something isn't that what the see results button is for? personally i only ever vote on a poll i know nothing about if it's like "who's the best video cat: fluffy from jrpg #1 vs skrunkly from jrpg #2" and my mutual is strongly campaigning for skrunkly on my dash, because i figure that's just a silly fun thing. and even some of the does it like women polls for media i am familiar with i end up not voting in because i feel too conflicted about it. the soul eater poll is a good example actually, i want to say yes because imo maka is an awesome protagonist who's pretty unique for the genre she's in but like you said in your tags, there are also a lot of reasons to vote no! and this is coming from someone who loves soul eater and has both watched the anime and read the manga!

Yeah...it's weird to me. I don't see why that gives anyone more of a high to click yes or no rather than the see results button, like yeah it feels good to vote on this type of thing, but only when I have an informed opinion that comes from my own heart. And if you really want to vote, that seems like a good opportunity to uh, just check out whatever the media is. Even watching or reading for fifteen minutes will give some kind of impression that's better than just vibes or someone else saying something. It'll still probably be inaccurate in a lot of cases, but at least it'll be based off something.

I am fortunate in that I've watched and read a lot of stuff though, and I did instinctively click yes on like, Billy and Mandy based soley off the vague childhood memory that Mandy was straight up evil and I support women's wrongs, but there was actually probably a bunch of shit in that show I don't remember, so it's not like i can say I'm ALWAYS fully informed. And sometimes I use tags to refresh my memory. "I can't remember what this did bad...okay from the tags I now remember" I am by no means a purist, I just think the point of the poll is opinions from people who actually interacted with the media or at the very least know so much about it against your will through internet osmosis that you might as well have watched ten episodes (me and Supernatural) (I have seen plenty of clips along with fastidious episode summaries and story breakdowns and so many goddamn tumblr posts so that counts for me. I'll be damned if I don't have a right to an opinion after living through the indundation of 2013 tumblr. I didn't vote on Doctor Who though despite basically the same, that seemed like more of a tossup for whatever generation it was and I didn't feel even the massive amount of knowledge i've somehow accrued was enough to make a blanket assessment).

Anyway, even if it's not that serious, it's an earnest question that you're supposed to put actual thought into, and that's why I enjoy it so much.

I don't want to get too annoyed with it, just like I try not to with the results. At the end of the day it's the internet and just a difference in approach that I won't ever understand.

I like Soul Eater too, don't get me wrong! I have fond memories. The manga definitely fell off for me at the end (and I skipped over a lot of the early chapters because I'd seen the anime, knew it had cut out quite a few pantyshots, and I wasn't dealing with those), I actually prefer the anime original ending, despite how basic it was (especially in Crona's case god why did the manga never give them a break). Just nice to see my girl win the day by punching someone really hard.

But I enjoyed it and I still adore Maka. There's still no enough action shonen out there that have a female main character for it not to be kinda special. But god. imagine a world where it cared about its female supporting cast's development more than boobs. or storytelling more than boobs, in a lot of cases.

[ivanttakethis]

End of Round 12 - Tov’s Log

Ellie (?) vs. Flor (?) - [Null] Win

————————————————————

There was too much blood on the stage.

Too many bodies.

Every contestant in the pods was on their feet, pressed against the glass, desperately trying to figure out what they’d all just witnessed.

Even the crowd was confused; not sure if they should be excited or terrified.

Their agitated noises were muffled in Tov’s ears. The sound of static drowned out nearly everything else.

Ellie won.

She beat Flor.

So why was she dead?

Why did Vera kill her? Weren’t they in love? Or at the very least, didn’t Vera love Ellie?

Where did Vera even come from? Why did she have another gun?

And with Ellie already dead, why did they still shoot Flor? Shouldn’t this have gone like Round 8?

Why did everyone lose?

Tov’s head spun.

For once she wished she had listened to Cassio and stayed in her room — watched the live broadcast of the round rather than opting for a pod.

But she couldn’t stay away.

She wanted to see Flor.

She wanted to apologize for what happened to Minori.

She wanted the guilt to stop eating away at her.

But now she would never get the chance.

Flor was gone too.

She died on the right side of the stage.

Just like Minori.

Tov had been too much of a coward to look at Minori in her final moments. This time, witnessing an execution was inescapable.

Something was wrong.

Chaos unfolded on stage. Nearly a dozen guards — human and alien alike — rushed to the dais, armed with batons or guns of their own. They marched through the large pools of blood at their feet without so much as flinching. It was like Ellie and Flor’s dead bodies weren’t even there.

Following close behind were a handful of AREPH agents, identifiable by their silver badges. Half of them took off in the same direction Vera had fled. The others shouted orders at the Alien Stage guards.

Vera was the fourth contestant to escape this season. Fifth, if you counted Solei. Even with the AREPH on site, they still failed to prevent more pet-humans from slipping out of their grasp.

Worse than that, they were now getting their hands on weapons.

Ji Woo was a fluke. Vera signaled a pattern.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of Tov’s stomach.

Fuck, they’re going to lock us down aren’t they?

More armed guards filed out in front of the pods, one for each of the contestants.

They wore full face helmets with blacked out visors, but Tov could tell by their builds that they were all human.

Maybe that was meant to help lower their guards, make them slip up and reveal something they shouldn’t.

The pods hissed as their doors slid open. Tov had to catch herself before she pitched too far forward and fell.

The guard standing in front of her made no attempt to help.

“Extend your arms, Subject-020547.” They ordered. Their voice was rough and deep.

Tov silently did as she was told.

Heavy metal handcuffs clamped down around her wrists, locking them together.

Her hands looked as though they were bound together for prayer.

Something was wrong.

The guard pressed a button on the lock and the cuffs tightened further. There was no wiggle room. No way out.

“Follow behind the next subject in a single file line.” They said. “Any attempts to escape or resist will result in isolation.”

Tov just nodded.

This wasn’t the time to argue.

As the line began to move, she took one last look at the stage.

From here, she could just barely see the top of Flor’s head.

She waited for the ache in her heart to bloom in the wake of another loss.

It never came.

Something is wrong with me.

The walk back to her room was a blur.

By the time Tov emerged from her haze, she was sitting on the edge of her bed alone in the dark.

It was quiet.

Only the mechanical whirring and soft beeps of the medical equipment staved off the silence.

It reminded her of when she was younger and much more fragile.

After Cassio would leave for the night, she’d get out of bed and wheel the heart monitor in her bedroom closer to the window so she could look up at the stars.

Her heart always skipped a beat when she would find the North Star.

Now she couldn’t feel her heart at all.

But why?

Where was the sadness, the anger, the grief she’d come to know so well?

Why was she digging around for any sort of emotion within herself and coming up with nothing?

Flor was her friend. She cared about her. Why couldn’t she feel anything?

Tov forced herself to her feet and staggered over to the window.

There were metal bars over the thick glass pane to prevent an escape.

They hindered the view of the sky quite a bit, but Tov could still see some of the brighter stars.

Everything in Tov’s life could be traced back to the stars.

Friendship. Love. Curiosity. Comfort.

Loss. Grief. Anger. Sadness.

It was all here, among the pinpricks of light, woven in between the constellations named after those gone but not forgotten.

Flor would be hard to forget.

She was special. Both her and Minori.

Tov hadn’t named a constellation after Minori yet.

She wanted Flor’s blessing first. She wanted to apologize.

They never had a moment to speak.

They never would.

Tov’s eyes scanned the sky for a set of stars fit to hold them both.

Minori.

Flor.

May you rest easy.

Together.

————————————————————

Tov doesn’t know what disassociating is, but that’s currently what she’s going through 🥲

Flor’s death was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Her heart/mind is trying to protect itself from more pain, so it just disconnected entirely.

Hopefully I was able to capture that disconnected, disorienting feeling well.

I tried to show the uneasiness in the text by offsetting some of the lines too.

Vera and Ellie belong to @junebluues.

Flor belongs to @sotogalmo.

Minori belongs to @minori-dash.

[gvtted-ratz]

BEFORE YOU READ:

- Read all tags/ratings if there are any. They are important and give you all you need to decide if you want to actually read. If you do not like the tags/rating, please do not read.

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Hoon Man HCS with a GN!Doppelgänger!Doorman!S/O

Last Edited: 27/08/2024

TW: none

Requested: No.

Word Count: 882

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes from gvtted-ratz (writer/creator): Welcome back. Take our thoughts like a rock from a field. These headcanons are based off our fic: Do You Have The Guts? Feel free to check that out. Rppik is hornier than us for this man, we swear.

@rppik (editor/co-writer):  I am a monsterfucker first and foremost but I did try to tone down the horny,

rppik hcs: 

• Hoon never perfectly mimics humans, or acquires the ability to speak, and you gather through his non-verbal communication that that's part of what drew him to you— you're capable of what he's not, and he admires your mimicry skills, wanting to learn from you while doing what he can for you in return.

• He rests throughout parts of the day so that he has energy to hunt for you both at night— it isn't that you're incapable of doing so yourself, by any means, but it's a welcome change from having to work all day and then fit in both sleep and hunting at night.

• Besides, despite you having particular tastes, he always seems to bring you back flesh that you're more than willing to eat and all but vibrates at your resulting approval.

• Expect him to want to lick your face and fingers clean afterwards,

• When feeling particularly affectionate, or just wanting your attention while you work, Hoon 100% hangs out under your desk while you work with his head on your knee for scritches.

• He likes to watch you work, also— he finds a darker corner of your office to peer over from, taking in the different Doppelgängers and humans that go through, and will playfully mimic the notable ones to you at the end of the day as though amused at the variety.

• All Doppelgängers have an innate interest in learning from example by watching humans, but you find he seems more curious in the “whys” of it all than most— his pin-prick pupils catching on certain fashion choices or mannerisms you yourself would just brush off or imitate without further question.

• You wind up taking after him in that regard as time goes on, if only because it makes your monotonous job a little more interesting to take in the details of the residents that change throughout the days while still remaining themselves. Differences in clothing, expressions, that you now take note of not just for the sake of your job but because it makes you understand your mate’s perspective of the world a little better.

• Meanwhile, Hoon immediately picks up on your disdain for Doppelgängers who are less adept at mimicking humans than average— the way your tone gets exasperated, or clipped, when you call out the flaws in their disguise and press the call button with more force than you do for others.

• You notice that he gets a little clingier after the first few times, and while it takes a few times more for you to understand the correlation you feel a funny sort of feeling in your chest— your hand immediately going to his hair as you wonder how to assure him that he's the exception to your disdain.

• In the end, while communication is difficult when only one party can fully speak, he does seem to look at you with an appreciative understanding in his eyes as you explain the difference between himself and the others you so readily send to their deaths. The monstrously unconvincing Doppelgängers on the other side of the window pose a threat to your dwelling here, and have come only to feed without so much as passing as a human. He came here for you.

gvtted-ratz hcs:

• Hoon likes to grab onto you, touching your skin and clothes, just to feel close.

• While Hoon isn’t able to blend into human society, he does try his best with his attempts.

• Besides continuos touching, he also likes to hover near you; he’s a believer in “being close shows how much you love the other”.

• The both of you curl up in your pile of miscellaneous cloths when your shift is over with; he clings to you and makes a low “oooooooo” sound as you both relax.

• There are times when he mimics you, trying to appear more human— this does not work well as you are not human, meanwhile, he’s evolutionary period seems to have been stunted.

• Will take your clothes to wear them; whether this is because he wants to feel closer to you or appear more human is unknown— it’s more likely to be a combination of both.

• Likes to cover you in blood from his kills or inky-black goo he secretes from his mouth and eyes on occasions; it’s almost like how animals rub their scent on each other to mark what is theirs.

• Hoon likes to point out different characteristics between Doppelgängers and their human counterparts— he may not be able to verbalize it, but he does try with gestures between the two of you.

• He only ever leaves your office to hunt for the both of you, deciding that since you’ve accepted his courtship, he will keep offering you kills— you are keeping him safe and sound by keeping close and hidden, after all.

• Overall, Hoon enjoys his time with you, going out of his way to show that he relishes in the moments the two of you are together— this includes bringing you kills, wearing your clothes, touching you more often, hovering around, and trying his best to improve his actions to that of a human’s to win you over more than he already has.

[november-rayne]

Chapter Twenty-Six: Unexpected

Summary: Loki gets a proper look-over from the palace healers. An unexpected face from Loki's past returns.

Word Count: 2300

Rating: Mature

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Chapter Index

The palace healers confirmed the field healer’s diagnosis: Loki had five fractured ribs, severe bruising, and several deep gashes. There was no hidden internal damage. As for the dislocated shoulder, the physician agreed that he could remove the sling for the wedding ceremony but advised Loki not to lift anything heavy for at least two weeks.

Loki frowned, “Define heavy.”

He had been given a sponge bath and intravenous fluids for hydration and was now resting in a medical bed surrounded by his family as the healer reviewed the results of his diagnostic tests.

“Sir, I would advise not lifting anything heavier than a pair of boots while you are on the mend. Surely, any one of the servants could help you carry anything you need to be moved.”

“To Hel with that.”

“Loki…” his mother scolded.

Thor chuckled, “Will you be taking volunteers to carry your bride across the threshold for you?”

“Absolutely not! Some wedding traditions should not be bypassed,” Loki fumed.

“Loki, be reasonable.” Frigga patted his good arm, “I am sure Sigyn will understand.”

“Can I go now?”

The healer eyed the nearly empty drip bottle on the IV pole. “Of course, let me unhook you, and I can have a nurse help you into some fresh clothes.” He pulled the needle from Loki’s arm and unhooked the various monitors and devices projecting readouts onto a holographic screen by his bed.

The intravenous fluids had rehydrated Loki and sobered him up. Now he was feeling the soreness and aches in his body and the embarrassment from the realization that he had spoken to Sigyn so lewdly in front of their fathers.

“I want to see Sigyn.” Loki sat up on the side of the bed as a nurse helped him into a fresh pair of trousers.

“She will be at the feast. Come, let me walk you back to your chambers. I can help you pick out something comfortable to wear to dinner,” Frigga offered.

Loki held his breath as he stood, “No, thank you, Mother. I think I can manage.”

“The Lady Sigyn and her parents have been waiting in the reception room, Your Highness.” The nurse supplied timidly as she helped Loki into a button-front shirt.

“Why were they not brought back?”

“They did not wish to interrupt, Your Highness.”

“Please show them in,” Odin offered.

“Right away, Your Majesty.” The nurse curtsied before she exited.

Loki sat back on the edge of his bed and held his side. He took shallow breaths as the healer placed his arm in a new sling. This one had better padding and did not cut into his neck like the simple cloth one hastily made in the field.

Sigyn appeared first, followed closely by her parents. She was still wearing her green silk dress, the mud dried on the hem, and her ruined silk slippers. “Your Majesties, Your Highnesses,” she curtsied deeply.

“Sigyn, my sweet. You did not need to come here, but I am happy you did.” He held his hand out to her. She accepted it eagerly and ran her other hand over his hair nervously.

“I just had to know that you were truly all right. I could not wait.”

“Like I said, just a few bumps and scratches, right, doctor?”

The physician stepped aside and ran his hand through his gray hair, “I cannot oblige that simplified diagnosis, My Prince. But I can assure your bride-to-be that you will fully recover.”

He looked directly at Sigyn, “He needs to rest. He should not be over-exerting himself for the next couple of weeks.”

She nodded her head in agreement before the realization of his meaning set in. Her cheeks pinked immediately, “Ohhh… I see.” She dropped her eyes to their interlaced fingers. She steeled her nerves, “But we can still… um… fulfill our duty?” She dared not look up.

“I don’t see why not. Get creative!” He moved to leave before stopping and pointing in her direction, “Just be gentle with him.” He added before he bowed and left the room.

“See? I am fine.”

“He did not say you are fine. He said you will be fine, eventually. Do not twist his words for me, Your Highness,” she scolded him.

He kissed her hand, “As cute as you are when you fret,” he rubbed the crease between her eyebrows, “I did not wish to worry you unnecessarily.”

“It is not unnecessarily, you… Prince.” She popped the p in ‘prince,’ wishing she could call him something else.

Loki suppressed a laugh, “So feisty,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb on her back, his large hand splayed across her skin.

“The first time I let you out of my sight, something like this happens.”

“Your Highness?” Lady Anderson curtsied, “I…” she motioned to her husband, “Erik told me what happened out there.” She sobbed, “I do not have the words to express my gratitude, My Prince.” Tears spilled down her cheeks, “I do not know what I would have done if-”

“Now, do not give it another thought, My Lady.” Loki released Sigyn and stood. He wrapped his good arm around Lady Anderson and patted her back. “Shhh. Everything worked out as it should.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. He stroked her hair and made soothing sounds close to her ear. “Everything is all right. His Lordship is fine. I am fine. Let us put this in the past.”

“Goodness.” She looked up at him and patted his cheek. “Thank you.  I will never be able to repay you...” She whispered before kissing his other cheek. She released him and made her way to her husband’s side. “Apologies for your shirt.”

Loki looked down at the tear stains on his shoulder. “This is nothing, My Lady.” With a wave of his hand, he dried his shirt with his seiðr.

“I will never get used to that, no matter how often I see it,” she said.

“Well then,” there was a glimmer of green light as a nosegay of light pink roses appeared in Loki’s hand, “For you, My Lady. May you always find magic in the everyday.” Loki bowed as he presented the flowers to Sigyn’s mother. Astrid accepted them with a squeal of delight.

“Now he is just showing off,” Thor whispered to Sigyn.

“I think it is wonderful,” she replied dreamily, her hand over her heart.

Loki turned his attention back to Sigyn, and his breath caught in his throat. For a brief moment, something new flashed in her eyes. He took her chin in his hand. “Did you see that?” he asked, staring at her face.

“See what?” She gently pushed his hand away. “Why does everyone keep doing that to me today?”

He glanced at his mother; she gave her head a single shake.

“Because everyone is captivated by your beautiful face.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

She rolled her eyes, “Loki…”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Henrik, the King’s assistant, poked his head just inside the door.

“Come in.”

Henrik bowed, “I am sorry to interrupt. There is a… matter that needs your urgent attention, sir.” His eyes shifted nervously to Loki and then to the floor.

“Very well. If you all will excuse me.” Odin gave Frigga an affectionate squeeze on her arm before he made his way around the bed. Everyone bowed and curtsied as he left with Henrik.

“Well then,” Frigga clapped her hands before her, “There is some time before the feast begins; let us all get cleaned up and changed. Then we can have a big dinner and a good night’s sleep.”

“Sounds wonderful. I will see everyone at dinner.” Thor clapped Loki on the back, bowed to his mother then quickly exited.

Loki followed Sigyn into the hallway and took her by the elbow. “Might I steal Sigyn for a brief moment?”

Lord Anderson nodded, “We will wait here.” Lady Anderson bid farewell to the Queen and watched as Loki led Sigyn down the hall just out of earshot.

He was suddenly nervous.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly, running his hand through his hair.

“Hello.” Sigyn giggled. “What is this about?”

“Well, first of all…” He waved his hand over her, and her dress and shoes were magically restored to like new. “This dress is one of my favorites on you. I did not wish to see it ruined.” He started to reach out to touch it but quickly shoved his hand in his pocket instead.

“Thank you.” She pointed her toes out before her, admiring her clean slipper. “It is one of my favorites as well. I like the way you look at me when I wear it.”

“This leads me to the next subject I wanted to discuss.”

“Okay,” she eyed him curiously.

“I am sorry our reunion today was so…”

“Showy?” Sigyn arched an eyebrow.

“Yes. Exactly. I should not have consumed so much ale on our way home, but I was in pain and hungover, and Thor…” He looked up to the ceiling, “Thor was getting all sentimental.”

“I understand.”

“You are my precious gift. I should not have spoken to you in such a manner in front of our fathers. I do not wish you to think I would cheapen you in that way if I had all my wits about me.” He pulled his hand from his pocket to touch hers. He picked up her hand like it was made of glass. “I love you. I am sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“You did not embarrass me.” She looked at her feet, “Well, maybe just a little bit. But I was so scared when I saw you were hurt and so relieved when I finally saw you were okay. I may have gotten a little carried away myself. Sometimes I forget that we are not already wed.”

“It is said that love makes fools of us all.”

“The ale does not help either, hmm?”

Loki chuckled, “Not at all.” He winced. “Ahh.”

Sigyn’s hands flew to his side, “What is the matter? What can I do?”

“Ahh, sorry, kitten. I just took too deep of a breath. I am fine,” he kissed her temple.

“You were so brave, saving my father.” She gave him a sly smile, “Maybe I can practice being gentle with you tonight. We could leave the feast early.”

“Tempting. But I really should save my strength for our wedding night.” He started walking her back toward her parents.

She pouted, “I suppose.”

It was then that a court messenger came jogging around the corner. “Your Highness,” he bowed.

“What is it?”

“The King requests your presence in the throne room right away.”

“Very well. Tell His Majesty that I am on my way.”

The messenger nodded and bowed, then returned the way he came.

“Have you seen the throne room yet, my dear?”

Sigyn shook her head, “No. I hear it is exquisite.”

“Would you like to come with me? You can watch as the King fills me in on what is so urgent that it cannot wait until tomorrow. Most likely, a pair of merchants squabbling over exclusivity rights to sell dyed cloth or tools of some kind. It will most likely be trivial and very boring.”

“Yes, I would love to. Papa, can I go with the Prince to see the King at work?”

“There and then straight to the feasting hall.” He looked at Loki, “No side trips through the orchard or wherever it is you kids like to sneak off to.”

“Papa…”

“Erik?” Lady Anderson looked between the two.

“Throne room, then the feasting hall. In that order. I promise.” Loki held his hand out to the Lord.

He shook it and gave him a nod, “See you at dinner, Your Highness, pumpkin.”

Loki led Sigyn down a few corridors and across the vast main entrance of the palace. They passed the tall marble columns that led to the main entrance of the throne room. The guards bowed to the prince and pushed the tall golden doors open for them.

He was surprised to find the room almost empty, aside from the King, who was on his throne, Henrik, who was at his side, and a lone woman with long brown hair standing at the foot of the stairs in front of the throne—a commoner, judging by her attire.

“You should have come alone.” Odin’s voice echoed sternly through the hall as Loki and Sigyn made their way to the front of the room.

“Sigyn had yet to see the throne. I did not think you would mind.” They bowed and curtsied before the King.

“This is a personal matter, my son. It is best that we speak in private.”

“Personal?” Confused, Loki looked at the woman beside him for the first time.

“Sera?!” The shock of seeing her again caused him to sway where he stood.

Her face was tear-stained, eyes puffy and red. She curtsied deeply, “Your Highness.”

“So, you do know this woman?” Odin asked.

Loki looked between his father and Sigyn. He swallowed hard before answering, “Sera is my former chambermaid. She was dismissed and removed from the palace. What is this about?”

Sigyn cleared her throat, “Loki…” She placed her hand on his arm. Her voice was low and shaky, “Loki, look at her.” She motioned to Sera with her other hand.

He looked at her face; he followed her eyes to her hands. They were cradling a small but round bump protruding from her belly.

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XOXO - Rayne 💚

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[vocaloidfactoftheday]

hello! so hypothetically if someone made a vocaloid art challenge prompt list (like a list of vocaloid songs to use as daily prompts) would it be alright to tag you for it to gain traction? for both the list and a submission form?

(when I say hypothetical I mean there is no list but me and a friend are discussing making one and the logistics lol)

short answer: no, sorry! please don't take any offense, i wish you good luck with your challenge! if you like, you can tag my main blog and i could reblog it there, though i honestly don't think it'd be very helpful either way.

long answer:

i want to avoid using this blog to promote things. which i know sounds hypocritical because i do use it to promote my own things sometimes, but this is just limited to 1. my vocaloid music (which i try to promote very sparingly to avoid spam) and 2. livestreams about vocaloid that i think this blog's followers would be interested in (which i've only done 2 of so far and i don't even remember if i promoted the second one lol...they were respectively "discussing every vocaloid voicebank" and "drawing vocaloids from memory"). once enough time has passed sometimes i'll delete my promos just to clean up the blog

there's a couple reasons for this:

i want to avoid too much irrelevant (i.e. not related to vocaloid facts) content on this blog. this is partially to avoid spam/clutter, which would be intrusive if someone just wants to scroll through to look at facts, but also because this will lessen the chances of the random button (which isn't visible on mobile, but it's on the blog's desktop theme) selecting an irrelevant post when its purpose is to show random facts.

i don't think there's that much of a point to it. promoting my own stuff (particularly the music) does get me a little attention on my youtube channel sometimes, but it realistically makes very little difference. i'm not sure anyone has actually found my music through this blog. this blog has over 1k followers and my youtube channel has under 500, and my subscriber count tends to stay stagnant for long periods of time. i can't imagine it would make much of a difference if i promoted your art challenge - the posts themselves might get more reblogs, but the actual amount of participants probably wouldn't increase very substantially.

i personally find it a bit awkward to promote stuff from people i don't know on this blog. or even from people i DO know, honestly. it just doesn't really fit on this blog. i'd be more okay with doing it from my main, but even then i don't typically promote things i don't pay attention to (like music i don't listen to, commissions from artists i don't follow) or participate in (though a vocaloid art challenge might be different - i don't think i'd participate because i'm a slow artist, but it'd at least be interesting to see the art that results from it)

this kinda loops back around to the "minimizing clutter/irrelevant posts" point - but this is a vocaloid trivia/fun facts blog. this is not a general vocaloid blog, i don't use this to share/post just anything vocaloid related (i do plenty of that on main). if i use up all the vocaloid facts, maybe this will change, but i currently have no desire to stray from this blog's purpose.

sorry for the long response! i hope this doesn't come off as a rant or anything, the main reason i'm posting this publicly is in case other people have similar questions/requests in the future. i appreciate you asking!