#feel free to steal her name if you want
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illarian-rambling · 8 months ago
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Man, I hate wasting fire af names on random side characters. Ashrigar sib Tuena should be the secret-seeking protagonist of a five book series, not murder witness number 2
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liesandalibis · 1 year ago
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ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ꜰᴀʏᴇ'ꜱ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ?
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STEALING. You ever had your car or apartment broken into and your most valuable or loved possessions just taken away from you? Let’s be honest, most people steal because they simply need to to survive, maybe some out of greed, but you do it out of pure malice. You take the last of your roommate’s ice cream, you steal your siblings favorite stuffed animal, you steal your classmate’s pencil box, if you steal money from someone you genuinely think that person deserved it. Your crimes can range from shoplifting to grand theft, and you fucking hate billionaires. The best things to steal aren’t money though, it’s things that people love or can’t live without. Many don’t know of this hate language, but if you’ve ever had the impulse to steal your enemy’s last soda, you now know why.
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lalunanymph · 4 months ago
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KITTEN, BEHAVE ☆
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ there are consequences to teasing your biker boyfriend...
⋆。°✩ semi-public s/ex, fem!reader, biker!sylus, reader wears a skirt, reader's a nasty gal <3, undertones of dom/sub (sylus is one kinky mf), finger sucking, finger gagging, petnames (kitten, baby), fucking on his bike (hehe), c/um countdown, unprotected s/ex (wrap it up babes), sylus matches our freak perfectly, based on this thot i had
⋆。°✩ dawn says: i've been a nasty girl ive been a nasty girl nasty nasty (sorry zayne)
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Sylus isn’t one to find beauty in the mundane but the wind whipping past his frosty locks and your arms wrapped tightly around him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.
“Kitten, are you alright?” he calls over the lashing breeze. 
His leather jacket is ridiculously thick, but even through the material, he can feel the heat of your cheeks seeping through.
You always flush whenever he calls you your favorite pet name, and Sylus forgets that just like a kitten, you can be just as playful. 
A slender hand tipped with French nails slides down his torso, leaving blistering heat in its wake. The thin compression shirt he’s wearing under his jacket can barely fight off the warmth of your palm bleeding past the material and onto his skin.
His heart doubles in speed, and in response, he revs the N-907 Ultrabike, its wheels kicking up more dirt and dust. Linkon City speeds into a blur, White Coves’ beaches in the distance and to his right, Bloom Forest spreads her velvety green arms open for adventurous outdoor lovers to play in. 
Your hand trickles down his abs, stealing his attention back to your whims, and he smirks behind his visor when he feels your dainty, pretty little palm resting on the front of his pants.
Looks like the little kitten wants to play a dangerous game.
Two can play the same. 
Sylus pretends to ignore you, and he can tell it only frustrates you more when he remains stone cold and unmoving; a statue you’re trying to thaw.
Your free hand creeps under the hem of his shirt, and thank fuck the wind is too loud because a groan slips past his clenched teeth—it would be absolutely embarrassing if you heard it. His mind works doubly hard to focus on not crashing the bike, maneuvering it down the winding steep roads.
“I thought you said you wanted to take me for a ride,” your voice touches his heated ears, innocent and alluring. 
“Isn’t that what we’re doing, kitten?” He tilts his head back slightly and hears your snort. 
Your antics will never cease to amaze him. Whatever possessed you to be bold also eggs you on to be audacious. Your hands travel further up his shirt, pressing right onto his broad pecs and you smirk when you feel the bike wobbling slightly under his control.
“Kitten,” he hisses. “Stop it.”
But, you don’t listen to him. You never do. 
This insolent prey. He tries his damndest not to buck his hips when you start to rub his bulge, merciless with your teasing. Your other hand reaches up to his neck, where his favorite leather collar sits prettily on his defined clavicles, and tug on it, earning another hiss.
The bike skids to a stop and you’re not sure how you ended up pushed against the pillion seat, Sylus looming over you. He kills the engine and kicks down the stand, the sudden deafening silence exacerbating your heavy breathing. 
“Wait,” you squeak, and he shakes his head.
“No more waiting. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 
Looking around in a panic, you notice that he’s parked the bike under a secluded shade of trees, next to an empty strip of road. 
This was the same route you took to the edge of the N-109 when you were given the mission to retrieve Sylus a few months ago. 
“Familiar, isn’t it?” He reads your mind with a dark chuckle. 
Those ruby red eyes bore into yours with the grace of a predator provoked, and you, his favorite prey, will finally get what you’ve been asking for. 
“I think it’s high time we recreated some memories from the first night we both saw each other,” he drags his palm up your bare thigh, making you shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re in a pretty little skirt, kitten,” he hums, pushing the hem of your leather mini skirt—a gift from him—out of the way. 
Sylus inhales sharply when he notices the micro thong you’re wearing which barely covers anything, his nostrils flaring.
“Insufferable.”
“Sy,” you whine, unsure what he's waiting for. It's never like him to play with his food.
The press of his bigger body on top of yours cages you to the pillion seat, the friction burning when he unceremoniously drags you closer to him. 
Those intense eyes seem to devour you, and for the first time since you’ve been together with him, you see a shadow of his villainous evil in them. 
“Is this what you wanted?” 
Is this what you’ve been begging for? 
Sylus wraps a hand around your throat in broad daylight, not caring for morals or decency when he squeezes. Hard.
Your eyes roll back into your head, regret streaming in for how you teased him earlier. 
“A-ah—” you choke lightly. “Was jus’ tryna play around.” 
Sylus ignores your whimpers, a bored look on his face as he loosens his fingers, letting you suck in a wheezy breath. 
“Little hunters never learn their lessons, do they?” 
He smirks unexpectedly. 
“Remember that night you tried to tame me during our interrogation? In the end, I was the one who had you screaming, didn’t I, kitten?” 
You did remember—of course, you did.
The shine of your boots spreading his kneeling thighs apart. Leather collar around a pale strip of throat you just wanted to suck on and leave a mark. His smug leers, those glowing ruby eyes that shone like dying embers when he finally snaps off the handcuffs you placed him in and pins you to the ground for a taste of your own medicine.
As much as you hate to confront the truth, it stares you down with an impassive face and dark eyes—a truth that breaks the delusion that you were the one in control when it came to Sylus. 
He touches your thighs, spreads them further. Bright sunlight speckles through the trees, casting webs of shadows across his crooked nose and high cheekbones. 
Sylus takes his time to peel your thong off, and you bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper.
“What? Don't tell me you're all shy now?” 
He snorts in amusement at your attempts to be innocent, prying your lower lip free, stroking the curve of your plush mouth with his thumb until you relent and suck on his digit docilely. 
While you’re not inexperienced when it comes to such carnal submission, it’s the first time you’re doing it outside of the bedroom where anyone could stumble upon the both of you. 
The thought makes your thighs tense and your needy pussy clench down on thin air, something that Sylus doesn’t miss.
“You like this, huh? Being slutted out so publicly… it turns you on to be so open to me.” 
He continues to push his thumb around your mouth; pressing down on your gums, flicking the tip of your tongue, inspecting the ridges and juts of each pearly white tooth. Intentionally drawing out your humiliation. 
Satisfied with the oral inspection, he removes his thumb, swiftly stuffing your protests with two thick fingers. 
“You say ‘no’, but I can smell that sweet little cunt getting wetter,” he murmurs, flitting his dark gaze right to your folds flushing readily with need; right to that cleft which houses his favorite hole.
Lewd doesn’t begin to cover how Sylus can treat you in bed. Outside the sheets, he’s content to play the role of your partner and friend, tagging along on your adventures and explorations. 
But the second he has you trapped in his bed, he becomes a different person. 
Meaner. Assertive.
Downright cruel. 
“Do you want me to touch you?” He goads, locks of silver hair falling across his damp forehead. Sweat dews across your chest, and you feel the heat of shame rising in you.
Sylus, I was just joking, you try to argue, but he’s not hearing it. 
“Didn’t seem like a joke when you were pawing at my cock earlier, kitten,” your lover hums, unable to take his half-mast red eyes off of you.  
He slots a hand between your thighs, and you swallow a cry when he drags your thong to the side, spreading your wetness around roughly with his thumb. Sylus rubs tight circles on your aching clit, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.
“Ssh,” he whispers when you give a tiny, choked cry. Sylus takes this chance to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent like a starved man. “We don’t want anyone to find us out, don’t we, kitten?” 
Evil, evil man. You bite on the inside of your palm to keep quiet when he lifts one leg to wrap around his narrow waist, effortlessly tugging his zipper down and freeing his cock. 
“One single sound and I will stop, do I make myself clear?”
There’s no choice but for you to nod. Sylus doesn’t waste a single second once he’s got you all nice and wet for him, grasping the base of his girthy and veiny length, stroking it a few times to make sure he’s hard and ready for you.
The thick tip breaches past your tight ring of muscle, and you bite down on a sharp gasp, squeezing your eyes close.
His breathing is getting heavier, and he curses the second he bottoms out in your tight heat. 
The bike begins to shake with every clean stroke, his thrusts making your toes curl and heels dig into his back. Luckily, the pillion seat is wide enough to accommodate your shaking bodies; never imagining for a single second that your lover would be boldly fucking you on it in the middle of a dangerous zone.
But, Sylus has always been like this—addictive, painful.
Dangerous. 
How he fucks you is no different. 
The blunt head touches the deepest spot inside of you, and you’re helpless to do anything but cling onto him like second skin, muffling your whines into his broad shoulder.
“Looks like the little kitten is enjoying her cream,” he murmurs, trailing his gaze down your body taking him so well. 
The veins on the back of his hands stand out, drawing your attention to him dragging the front of your blouse down, tucking your bra cups under your heaving breasts. 
Sylus’ mouth wraps around one turgid bud, sucking it till it’s shiny with his spit and throbbing from oversensitivity. 
He repeats the same motion on your neglected nipple, savoring your hitched breaths and muffled whines. 
Your thighs start to shake, and you turn your head to the side. 
Look at you, he coos and grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze at the spot between your thighs where he’s fucking into you. Look at how well you’re taking me. 
You’re so wet that droplets of white are trickling down your inner thighs, frothing into stickiness where his cock is rutting shallowly inside of you. 
“Sy,” you moan softly, eyes glossing over with tears of pleasure.
He loves how needy and pathetic you look for him with your swollen, parted mouth and tight nipples just begging to be pinched or flicked.
A furrow creases between his brows, drops of sweat trickling down his jaw. 
You surprise him by leaning forward, flattening your tongue and lapping it right up, shameless in your desire for him. 
“Naughty girl,” Sylus purrs, his red eyes darkening to an impossible black until you’re sure not a shred of your sweet boyfriend remains. Two thick fingers part your mouth open, sliding down your welcoming throat until he’s knuckle-deep in you.
Sylus chokes you out as his other hand trails down your body towards your clit, rubbing the flushed nub until your hips buck and you cry out; a master at bringing your body closer to the pleasurable brink. 
The tears beading in your lash line finally freefall down your face, triggering his devilish satisfaction. 
Returning the favor, Sylus licks them clean, chuckling cruelly at the arousal turning you cross-eyed. 
He loves it when you look this fucked out, and one day when you’re comfortable enough, he hopes you’ll relent to him taking a picture of that messed up, pretty face for his safekeeping.
Baby, you gurgle around his fingers. I’m close… 
Yeah? He goads. Gonna break for me? Come on this cock? Make a mess? Fuck—do it baby. Mess me up. Make me feel so good because that’s all you’re good for, huh? 
He grits his teeth, fighting back the cresting pleasure, needing you to come first.
Come on, baby. Come with me. Five… four… three… that’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you. Don’t come until I reach zero. Fuck—that pussy’s so tight. Two… one… fuck, fuck. 
High strung keens are escaping past the cracks of his fingers stuffed in your mouth, your entire body shaking violently that Sylus thinks you’re being wrecked by an internal earthquake.
Zero. Zero. Fuck, baby. Come for me. Come on, give it to me. Give me that sweet cum. Yeah, that’s it, that’s it—
He grunts, his patience breaking, flooding inside of you in waves of heat; filling you up to the brim.
In this moment of weakness where anyone targeting him can put a bullet right through his head, Sylus thinks that if he dies right now, he would do so happily in your arms.
His forehead gently thumps onto yours and you must be as fucked up as him because you push his hair back, scratching his scalp lightly.
Your sculpted, 6’2 menace of a lover who’s seen death and destruction since the day he could speak, groans and nuzzles your cheek like a weak puppy. With every version of Sylus that you have seen before, this will always be your favorite one—where he’s comfortable enough to kiss you affectionately, bringing you down from the high.
He hums. “Satisfied?” 
Sylus would never say he loves you out loud—that’s not in his nature.
But, his actions scream louder than words when he adjusts your rumpled clothes and gives you a peck on your cheek.
“Do you still want to visit that mad scientist or should we scrap it for another day?”
The implicit invitation tempts you. 
A boring lecture or a whole day spread out on my sheets, kitten?
“Let’s go home,” you choose the latter, and Sylus tries his hardest to hide his smug smile when you refer to his penthouse as your own home.
“Of course. But, for the sake of not violating any more public decency laws, you better keep your paws to yourself until we get home, kitten.”
Proving your disobedience and your unwillingness to learn your lesson, you sink two fingers under his collar, dragging him close enough for your lips to touch. 
“That depends on if you can get us home fast enough, Sy.”
He takes it as a challenge, a grin touched with a hint of lunacy splitting across his face.
“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” 
“No, I—”
He pulls you into a kiss, devouring your breaths until your lungs are filled with nothing but him, him, him. 
His fingers in your hair, an arm wound tightly around your waist so his favorite prey can never escape him. Sylus breaks off the kiss, ruby eyes like two bloody pools when he stares at your warm cheeks and puffy mouth. 
“You should know I always—always—win our petty bets.”
— feedback and reblogs are appreciated luvs <33
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©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate to another site
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yieldtotemptation · 3 months ago
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RITUAL ft. Yujin
yujin x male reader smut
7k words
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Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.
For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.
But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.
And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.
“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.
“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”
“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”
There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.
What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.
It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.
Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.
“Oh, it’s so perfect.”  Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”
You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”
Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”
Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.
Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.
You’d probably give her the world if she asked.
She’d happily settle for your dick.
Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”
“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”
Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.
Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.
And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.  
Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.
Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.
You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.
She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.
But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.
“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.
Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.
“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”
Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"
You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.
You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.
Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.
Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.
“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”
“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”
A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.
“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”
She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.
“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"
Yeah, that’s more like it.
You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.
“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”
There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.
You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”
Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.
“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.
“Now you’re learning.”
So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”
Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.
You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”
“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.
“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.
“Oh, I know.”
Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.
“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”
There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.
The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.
“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”
‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.
There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.
You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.
“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”
She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.
“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”
And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”
Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?  
You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”
“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”
And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”
Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.
You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.
Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.
While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.
Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.
“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”
Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”
“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”
You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.
There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.
But really, fuck all of that.
Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.
Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.
There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.
Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "
Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.
“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.
Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.
It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.
(Even though you have. Even though you will.)
Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.
And Yujin knows it.
There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.
But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—
“Gah—God—fuck—”
Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.
“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”
She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.
You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.
Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.
“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”
It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”
“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”
You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.
So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”
There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.
Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.
“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”
“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”
She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”
“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”
The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”
There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.
And you’re going to be the one to release it.
You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.
You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.
“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”
“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.
“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”
She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.
“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”
There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.
“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”
Jesus.
“To break.”
Fucking.
“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”
Christ.
It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill… right?
“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”
You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.
And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.
“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”
“You said—”
But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.
Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.
You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.
The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.
This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.
“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.
Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.
She’s close, and you’re not far behind.
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.
But you hear it, and it’s all you need.
It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.
“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”
It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.
You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”
“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”
The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”
But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.
“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”
It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.
“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"
Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.
But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.  
“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”
“God, fuck—daddy!”
It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.
And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.
Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.
You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.
And then she falls apart.
So beautifully, so perfectly.
But you’re not done yet.
Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.
She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.
“I’m all yours, daddy.”
It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.
There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.
You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.
But not now, not today.
So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.
It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.
You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.
“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”
It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.
“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"
It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.
Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.
A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.
“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Always.”
And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.
She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”
“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”
Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”
She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.
That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.
“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.
She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”
And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.
Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.
She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.
You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.
She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.
And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.
“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.
But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.
“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.
“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”
That makes her laugh. “Good.”
She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.
There’s that look in her eyes again.
One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.
“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”
You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”
And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”
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hello-sweetheart · 2 months ago
Text
Dog Groomer Eddie
Eddie who faces the facts that he needs a skill besides music to make money because he loves the band, loves playing, but man the pay is shit. And he’s a dog person, never been able to have a dog and his apartment doesn’t allow pets either so he tries his hand at dog grooming.
He’s actually like, really good at it. Works at a groomers for a couple of years, wins contest that rewards him with some cash and the notoriety needed to find an investor and start his own dog salon.
Fast forward, Steve is visits a dog groomer that was recommended to him by a friend called Metalhead Groomers. The place has metal playing from the speakers which is a weird choice, but it sticks true to the name. The guy at the front has the name tag ‘Jeff’ who has piercing and tattoos, large guy, very intimidating.
But the place looks clean, it has 5 stars, and when Jeff checks in Antoinette he’s actually super nice, like a gentle giant. So Steve’s like, “I don’t particularly care for a cut, you can do whatever.”
“Do you want the full package? It includes a bath, full hygiene routine, dye job, and a specialized cut.”
And steve does not process the ‘dye’ part and agrees.
So see, Eddie, and by extension Metalhead Groomers, is known for their really eccentric and creative work. It’s how Eddie won his first contest after all. And the best worst thing you can give an artist is full reign. But free rein of a standard poodle?? A dog groomers dream come true.
When Steve goes to pick up Antoinette, Eddie hands her over and…
Her ears are curled and dyed in pastel colors with bows and sparkles. Stands of hair above her eyes are streaked pink and look as if they’re some type of falsie lash. Her legs and tail have been dyed a pastel blue ombré. The rest of her body shaved down except for some plush detailed work of large light pink hearts on her sides and a detailed bow on her lower back . Her tail is fluffed and cut into the shape of a heart.
“What the fuck did you do??”
“Dude, you asked for the full package and said ‘do whatever you want’ so… tada! I took some inspiration from her name, but this is kinda mild compared to my other work tbh.”
It takes Eddie explaining that that it’s pet safe dye, she wasn’t hurt, and actually enjoyed all the attention she received for Steve to calm down.
Fast forward a week and Steve comes back into the shop to apologize for blowing up on Eddie. Turns out Antoinette (Nettie for short) is a service dog and her look actually helps people be more aware of her. Steve also feels safer that she’s more identified cuz apparently there’s actually people that steal service animals?? Eddie was not aware of that. Plus, Steve works with young kids and they love Nettie’s look, it makes them more comfortable and engage more.
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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago
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hi!!! totally up to you if you want to write it (it maybe too self indulgent ahhhhh). but i was think of bau!reader (or bau!adjacent) who has known spencer for forever and has watched him "glow up"/become more confident and is now dating him, but is now more self-conscious that he will realize that he is totally out of her league since women are now hitting on him all the time and he is able to basically flip men in the field. something like that if you get the vibe? just a girlfriend who is worried her boyfriend will outgrow her and is scared they'll breakup. feel free to ignore! love your work sm!!!
a league of your own | S.R.
as your boyfriend seemingly evolves, you grow increasingly aware of the feeling of being left behind
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst (heavy on the fluff, more like internalized angst) content warnings: in a bar but neither spencer nor reader are drinking, follows the events of 14x12 "hamelin", discusses the pronunciation of asmr word count: 1.4k a/n: self conscious reader is so important to me. this is for everyone who has a hard time naming their feelings. thank you for requesting!!
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“He flipped him over the table?” You asked, raising your eyebrows as you looked up at Tara, who was talking about your boyfriend’s maneuvering of Arthur Brodie in the field. In passing, you had heard about the mark left on the suspect’s forehead, but you hadn’t heard the story of how he had gotten it – until now.
Bringing her cup to her lips, Tara nodded at you, her expression clarifying that it was as impressive as it sounded. You sighed at the newest addition to Spencer’s ever-evolving personality, it was hard not to think of them as grievances against you, but that’s what it felt like.
You looked over your shoulder to the bar, trying to scope out where he had disappeared to before you spotted a familiar mess of brown curls. From where you were standing, you could see him holding two drinks in his hands, but it wasn’t until he shifted his stance that you saw the girl that he was speaking with. “And that’s three,” Luke observed, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched the same scene as you.
Emily asked what he was talking about, but you tuned them out as you watched the interaction. You already knew this was the third woman to hit on him since the team entered the bar thirty minutes ago.
There was no mistaking it, your boyfriend was easy on the eyes, and you weren’t naïve enough to try to deny that fact. Still, you were having a hard time adjusting to seeing him garner exponentially more attention from people at the bar. “You better go get your man, or she might steal him away from you,” Luke taunted, nodding his head in the direction of the bar.
“What?” Your head snapped back in the direction of the bar, eyes wide as you peered across the bar where Spencer was talking animatedly to the blonde in front of him before he looked behind himself and gestured to you, prompting you to wave timidly at the both of them.
The girl sneered in your direction before spinning on her heel and trudging away, freeing your boyfriend to return to you at the table. “They didn’t have any limes, so they put a lemon in your Shirley Temple,” Spencer said apologetically, dropping a kiss on the part of your hair as he set the glass in front of you.
Shaking your head, you smiled up at him, “That’s fine, thank you.” You told him, placing your hand on the glass and spinning it to better access the straw.
If he noticed anything odd, he didn’t comment on it, instead deciding to contribute to Tara and Rossi’s conversation on ASMR.
As the team continued to chat around you, you just continued spinning your glass on the oak table, becoming more and more conscious of the way your thighs stuck to the leather booth. Your eyes only flicked up when you noticed people staring at you, “What?” You asked, heart racing as you had been caught daydreaming.
The five remaining members of your team at the table were all looking at you with similar curious looks, “Rossi’s headed out. He was just saying goodbye,” Penelope said, reaching across the table and awkwardly patting your hand.
“Oh,” you responded meekly, “Have a good night. Tell Krystall I said hi.” You shifted in your seat, the sound of your legs unsticking from the seat seemingly amplified tenfold in your self-conscious state.
As Dave made his way out, Spencer gestured for you to move over so he could sit next to you. Tara got up to get in line for the restroom and Luke and Garcia weaseled their way into one of their patented bickering matches, you nearly jumped when you felt Spencer’s hand settle on your thigh. “Alright,” he muttered, turning his head to you, “What’s up with you tonight?”
Frowning, you looked up at Spencer, brown eyes studying your face as he hunted for even the slightest hint of what had gotten into you. The only problem was you didn’t have a name for it yourself. It could be perceived as jealousy, but you weren’t concerned with anyone actually taking Spencer’s attention away from you, you were just feeling feelings. Unnamable feelings.
You brought your glass closer to you, the condensation being a welcome relief on your warm skin, pinching the straw as you took a sip of your drink. “Nothing’s up,” you said, stirring the lemon wedge around in your glass.
“Are you sure? You look flushed,” he said, pursing his lips thoughtfully before he gently pushed his water in your direction.
Brushing off his concern, you turned your attention to watching Luke and Garcia in an animated discussion on how to pronounce ASMR – Penelope insisted she was right, and Luke didn’t necessarily care either way. You only moved your gaze when the blonde from earlier passed by again, dragging her palm over Spencer’s shoulder, causing him to lean into you.
Flustered, you took a long sip of your drink before setting it back down, “Can we go?” You asked Spencer, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you looked at him expectantly.
As he began to put puzzle pieces together, he nodded, standing up and gathering your glasses to set them on the bar. You said your goodbyes before leading the way out and flipping Luke off as he called out something about protection, something that would have previously left Spencer embarrassed and stammering, but now made him chuckle as he held the door open for you.
Part of you was grateful for this sort of evolution in Spencer, he was, after all, more confident in every aspect of his life. Now waiting for the metro, you looked at him, longer hair, his work shirt unbuttoned at the top and pushed up to his elbows. The light breeze in the tunnel moved his hair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Are you alright, love?”
Your shoulders drooped helplessly at the pet name, “You shoved a guy on a table?”
His face fell, “Is that what this is about? Me using force against a suspect?”
Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. He pushed Tara, it’s not that at all,” you scrambled to reassure him, knowing he was afraid that his time in federal prison had made him a violent person. “It’s just… you shoved a guy onto a picnic table and you’re getting hit on by people in bars and you’re dressing differently and I’m just… me.” You hold your hands out as if you’re on display, looking down at the sundress you had thrown on and the sneakers you wore for comfort instead of style.
“Are you jealous that I’m getting attention from other people?” He asked, “Because I’ve never encouraged anyone.” That was true, last week a deputy sheriff had made a move on your boyfriend, and the only thing he had gotten in return was an earful on how you had made the deduction that eventually solved the case.
Bowing your head, you regretted ever saying anything in the first place, “No,” you groaned, “What’s that term for someone who can’t name their emotions? That’s me. Right now. At this moment.”
Spencer chuckled at your frustration, “It’s called alexithymia, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’ve watched you change in front of my very own eyes in the last year, and I guess I’m just feeling left behind,” you admitted. “You’re a changed person and there’s nothing different about me.”
He tilted his head to the side curiously, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” you said desperately, hoping to get to the bottom of your conflicting emotions.
“Did you love me before?”
You froze, looking up at him, “Of course.”
He raised his eyebrows, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “And you love me now?”
Nodding, you stepped closer to him, “Very much so.”
“Then there’s nothing else I could possibly ask of you,” he told you, smiling as you blushed. “You don’t need to change in time with me, and – since we’re being honest – I’ve always felt like I’m the one lagging behind you. So, maybe I’ve just been playing catch-up.”
You frowned, moving even closer to him as the platform grew crowded, “Well, now I feel ridiculous.”
“Not ridiculous,” he murmured, “Just human,” Spencer amended.
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mclqren · 6 months ago
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THE LECLERC CHRONICLES ★ F1 GRID
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!younger sister!reader ; f1 grid x fem!leclerc!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you're the younger sister of charles leclerc, and your relationship with the rest of the f1 grid has the internet going crazy [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing, use of the word 'slut'
NOTES ✦ let's pretend the dog i used looks relatively like leo!! reader is 22 years old, and the youngest leclerc sibling. the fc i've used is lexi jayde, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are closed. i acc love writing for this series no joke.
SERIES ✦ the leclerc chronicles masterlist ; previous part ; next part
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 745,109 others
tagged alexandrasaintmleux
yourusername to summarise: these sunglasses were the best investment, i am THE GOAT at bowling, and im planning on stealing alex from my brother. 😘
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user1 Y/NNN MY FAV LECLERC
user2 SO REALLL
user3 how are you not jet lagged rn
yourusername believe me i am (can't wait for japan though!)
user4 so like does she work orrrr
user5 she's an influencer babe?
charles_leclerc that's my girlfriend??
yourusername not anymoreee!!
alexandrasaintmleux im sorry baby, i didnt want you to find out this way 😔
charles_leclerc this isn't fair ☹️☹️
yourusername boo hoo life's not fair mate get over it
landonorris pretty sure i beat you at bowling though???
oscarpiastri so did i??
yourusername listen yeah the australian bowling lanes are a bit wonky so that's why i lost. otherwise i would've owned BOTH OF YOU
lilyzneimer i beat y/n too but i love her too much to be rude to her 🩷
yourusername this is why ur my favorite lily, instead of ur rat of a boyfriend & his teammate
landonorris im sorry?
yourusername BOO MCLAREN 👎👎 FORZA FERRARI ❤️❤️
charles_leclerc you are awful at bowling y/n but FORZA FERRARI ❤️
maxverstappen1 the one thing you could probably beat me at ☹️
yourusername get used to it verstappen 😘 LECLERC 🔛🔝
maxverstappen1 yeah but who's won 3 f1 championships 🤔
yourusername watch yeah put me in a racecar and you're officially done mr verstappen ‼️
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 801,333 others
yourusername ticked another city off the bucket list today! 愛してるよ東京 🩷 ( i love you tokyo )
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user6 Y/N IN JAPAN WOOHOOO
user7 seeing y/n in japan makes me so happy idk
user8 she's living her best life fr!!
charles_leclerc the second photo was taken moments before disaster 😘
georgerussell63 WHAT HAPPENED
yourusername charles marc hervé perceval leclerc don't you dare.
charles_leclerc she dropped her sandwich in the koi pond and they all ate it 🤷‍♂️
yourusername WHY ARE YOU EXPOSING ME CHARLES. IT WAS EMBARRASSING ENOUGH. FUCK YOU.
georgerussell63 that's not THAT bad y/n but also your name is so long charles??
charles_leclerc tell me about it ☹️
yukitsunoda loved getting sushi with you y/n!!
yourusername YUKIII WE NEED TO DO IT AGAIN i swear you know all the best spots
landonorris sushi 🤮
yourusername mr norris you have the palate of a five year old boy now shut up before i remove your ipad privileges ❤️
logansargeant third pic goes harddd wonder who took it 😍
yourusername thanks logie much appreciated babes 💋💋
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 856,210 others
tagged charles_leclerc, pierregasly
yourusername last slide is very much true, coming from a very credible source (me). loved being in japan this week, すぐに戻ってきます ❤️ ( i'll be back soon )
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user9 sometimes i forget that y/n is monegasque as well
user10 NO REAL
user11 THE RED THEMEEE LOVE!!
user12 the last slide HELPPP
user13 everyone say THANK YOU Y/N for the charles crumbs
user14 THANK YOU Y/N WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU MORE THAN YOU KNOW 💋
charles_leclerc the last slide y/n 🤣
yourusername @/pierregasly my favorite bromance 👊
pierregasly thanks for the love y/n 🤣❤️
landonorris photo credits? 📷☹️
yourusername not needed after the little stint you pulled today ☝️
oscarpiastri lets normalise giving context 😊😊😊
yourusername someone (naming no names) CHEATED at uno.
landonorris I DIDNT KNOW YOU COULDNT KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING
yourusername IN WHAT GAME CAN YOU KEEP CARDS FOR SAFEKEEPING??
oscarpiastri yeah...the no photo creds was deserved
yourusername
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( caption one: ferrari girls on film 🏎️ + tags | caption two: to all the haters saying i can't bowl, guess who just fucking won!! @/charles_leclerc you are a WEAK opponent 👎 )
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 799,012 others
tagged charles_leclerc, lec
yourusername i hereby declare that this ice cream brand is officially y/n certified (coming from ice cream's no.1 fan). now go support my brother or wtv 🍦😜
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user15 AWWW Y/N SUPPORTING CHARLES
user16 my fav siblings ever 🫶🫶
user17 THE ICE CREAM LOOKS SO NICE CANT WAITT TO BUY
charles_leclerc thanks for the free advertisement y/n 😊😊
yourusername you're welcome cha!! (i'll act like you didn't ask me to do this 😊)
charles_leclerc shhh y/n that's meant to be a secret!
yourusername whoops?? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
landonorris if you advertise my quadrant merch in the future i'll give you a papaya paddock pass? 👐👐
yourusername unfortunately y/n leclerc's services extend to that of her immediate family only. if you have any issues with the above, don't message me about them!
landonorris why are you speaking like someone else y/n
yourusername so i sound more fancy
alexandrasaintmleux something delicious is in this post and it's not the ice cream 🤤
yourusername MY WIFE 😘😘
charles_leclerc not the public flirting AND being rude about my ice cream ☹️☹️
yourusername hahahaha sucks to be you rn 🫵
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 901,221 others
yourusername "i've only had leo for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself"
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user18 Y/N IS A B99 FAN CONFIRMED??
user19 THE BEST SHOWWW
user20 LEO IS THE CUTESTTT
user21 auntie y/n babysitting omg 🥺🥺
yourusername stop it rn auntie makes me sound so old 😔😔
user21 OMG SHE REPLIED?!
charles_leclerc my baby 🥺
yourusername im planning on stealing him from you at some point 😘
charles_leclerc im sorry?? first my girlfriend now my dog??
yourusername stay on high alert charles nothing is safe around me 🚨🚨
lilymhe cutie 😉😉
yourusername YOUUUU!!
alex_albon the dog's cuter
yourusername 'the dog' has a NAME albon, and you're just jealous your girlfriend prefers me to you!
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 822,122 others
yourusername 上海之夜 🌃 ( shanghai nights )
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user22 Y/N IN SHANGHAI FOR THE GP??
user23 I LOVE YOU Y/NNNN
user24 does she go to every race?
user25 she said on an interview once that she tries to attend every race & flies with her brother (& sometimes his girlfriend alex) whenever she does go to them! she couldn't make jeddah this year because she had other commitments at the time, but she tries to go to most of them!
user26 Y/N LECLERC IS THAT A MAN IN UR SECOND PIC??
user27 SOFT LAUNCH MAYBEEE??
charles_leclerc y/n i don't recognise that second pic? 🤔🤔
yourusername charles calm down it's literally a friend
charles_leclerc why not tag him then??
yourusername as a nice FRIEND, i actually value his life so im trying to save him from you, arthur and lorenzo ❤️
lance_stroll I MISS YOU
lance_stroll this is marilou by the way ive lost my own phone 😔
yourusername MARILOUUU MY ANGELLL I LOVE YOU!! leave ur boyfriend for me
lance_stroll y/n im back what is this.
yourusername idc about you tell marilou to come over
iamrebeccad in awe of you forever 🤩
yourusername love you becca ❤️
imessages ( y/n )
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maxverstappen1
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( caption: pov - mr world champion x3 gets his phone robbed by a 22 year old girl who enjoys harassing people on the daily 😘 [...] @/yourusername FOLLOW ME NOWWWW (please) )
yourusername
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( caption: me when max asks me why i stole his phone, promoted my instagram account and then left [...] @/maxverstappen1 sorry about that 😬💗 )
imessages ( y/n )
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 800,100 others
yourusername cali this week, miami next ✈️
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user28 i swear i'd sell my soul to live your life y/n
user29 she's actually stunninggg
user30 Y/NNN MY ANGEL FR
user31 hottest leclerc (real)
georgerussell63 you after stalking me and carmen to california??
landonorris SORRY?
yourusername okay guys lets clear up the rumours!! 😁😁 i actually got invited to an EVENT in california, and george and carmen happened to be there, so like yes, i have been with them but i did NOTTT stalk them guys im not about that lifestyle
georgerussell63 yeah but like how do i know you're not watching me while i sleep 🤔
yourusername that's the whole beauty of it, you'll never EVER know 😁
carmenmmundt come over please george is annoying me
yourusername omw bbg 😘😘
georgerussell63 betrayal 101
alexandrasaintmleux missing you rn 😔😔
charles_leclerc you're literally with me right now??
alexandrasaintmleux yeah and im missing your sister??
yourusername I LOVE YOU ALEX im seeing you soon trust
logansargeant come to miami quicker you promised i could show you all the best spots :(
yourusername I SWEAR IM ON MY WAY LOGANNN
logansargeant
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( caption: i let y/n in my house and the first thing she does is pull out her diary to document our day [...] @/yourusername least you could do is say "thanks for letting me in" ☹️ )
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 835,100 others
tagged logansargeant
yourusername bro said "i know a spot" and took me to a lake.
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user32 THE CAPTION SCREAMINGGG
user33 that's so logan i actually cant HELP
user34 the second pic 🤣
user35 y/n after third wheeling:
charles_leclerc so this is why you wouldn't go on a walk with me
yourusername maybe i shouldve gone on that walk idk, logan is a bit of a reckless boat driver
logansargeant IM NOT??
yourusername logan babe, we were coming up to a rock and you shouted 'land ahoy', i have reason to be scared ❤️
oscarpiastri HELP LAND AHOY?? ARE YOU A PIRATE LOGAN
logansargeant IT WAS A JOKE OKAY PARDON ME FOR MY HUMOR
yourusername 'pardon me' aren't we getting posh!
logansargeant dont lie you had a great time
yourusername define "great time"...because i sat there and sunbathed for like three hours while you caught a couple of 'beauties'
logansargeant and then you ate one of those beauties for dinner??
yourusername best part of the entire thing your mom makes a mean fish yum yum 😋😋
user36 AW SHE WENT TO HIS HOUSE
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 900,221 others
tagged landonorris, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1
yourusername LANDO NOWINS BRCOMES LANDO WIQH WINSSSS 😁😁🏆🏆 so hqppy for you rihht now, and for max & charles and their podium!! ❤️
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user37 reason no.1209212 as to why y/n is the best:
user38 THIS POST AWWW
user39 the way she's so proud of him and her brother 🥺🥺
user40 and max!!
landonorris couldn't have a post without charles and max featuring huh 😔
yourusername unfortunately charles IS my brother, and max IS my friend as well, so im legally obliged to celebrate with both of them too
landonorris yeah but...my first win ☹️
yourusername next win trust i'll dedicate an entire post to you babes ❤️
charles_leclerc the spelling y/n 🤣🤣
yourusername I WAS DRUNK OKAY BLAME MAX
maxverstappen1 BLAME ME HUH
yourusername YOU GOT ME DRUNK MATE
charles_leclerc absolutely shocking behaviour from a world champion
yourusername RIGHT??
maxverstappen1 how come i never get these sort of posts when i win
yourusername would you like one next time maxie?? 😁
maxverstappen1 please 😔
yourusername watch its coming 🔥🔥🔥
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TAGS ✦ @willowpains ; @landossainz ; @charlesgirl16 ; @mellowarcadefun ; @bearryyyy ; [ respond under this post OR the main page for this series to be added to the taglist for 'the leclerc chronicles'! ]
1K notes · View notes
shybluebirdninja · 15 days ago
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A Long Road
Summary: Logan, old and insecure, finds comfort in the warmth of his younger girlfriend despite whispers of doubt from others.
(Oldman!Logan Howlett x Younger!Gf-Reader)
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Logan’s POV
The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded, but it wasn’t empty, either. Enough people for a few glances to find their way over to us—for the murmurs, the curious looks.
I sat across from her, trying to look comfortable while stirring a cup of black coffee that’d gone cold ages ago. She had some fancy latte with cinnamon sprinkled on top—whatever they do to drinks now—and damn if it didn’t suit her. That sweet, new taste on her lips seemed right. Meanwhile, there I was, sticking to my usual, too set in my ways to try anything else.
But that wasn’t what was getting to me. It was the people. Or maybe it was just me. Seeing the way they looked at her, then looked at me, wondering what the hell she was doing here with a guy like me.
Some guy at a corner table gave me a quick up-and-down glance, as if he thought I wouldn’t notice. The words nearly spilled out, some snap about minding his own business. But she was scanning the pastry menu, her eyes bright, so I bit it back. Didn’t want to wreck her day.
“Babe, you wanna try one of these?” she asked, her finger tracing the list of pastries. There was a glint in her eye, all excitement over something simple—an apple twist or whatever fancy name it had.
I forced a smile, grumbling under my breath. “Eh, coffee’s enough for me, sweetheart.”
She just laughed, nudging her coffee cup forward, insisting. “Come on. Live a little. It’s apple cinnamon. You might like it.”
I rolled my eyes but took a reluctant sip, letting the cinnamon and sugar coat my mouth. It was...fine, but it wasn’t me. I grunted in approval, handing the cup back, catching her watching me like she found it all adorable or something. I tried to act casual, but it only made me feel more... out of place.
Across the room, two people whispered, stealing glances our way. Couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could guess. ‘Serious? Those two? Must be her dad. No way they’re together.’ Their words hung in the air, even if they hadn’t said a damn thing.
“Hey, uh...maybe we should get outta here,” I mumbled, tugging my jacket off the back of my chair, feeling the worn leather under my fingers. This place was starting to feel too damn small.
She looked up, confused but gentle. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just... too many people.” I forced a shrug, standing up and trying to shake off the irritation clawing at me.
We headed out into the cool evening air, her arm brushing against mine as we walked. For a second, it felt good—free, just us. But as soon as we stepped inside the apartment, something in me cracked wide open. I shut the door, staring at the floor. Couldn’t bring myself to look at her, couldn’t explain the feeling clawing its way up my chest.
“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, her voice soft as she set her keys down, coming closer.
My throat tightened. I couldn’t look her in the eye. “You know, I’m almost two hundred, sweetheart. And I look every year of it.” My voice came out rougher than I wanted, almost a whisper. “People look at us, and they think...”
She reached up, placing her hands on either side of my face, thumbs brushing over the lines and scars. The worn edges, the parts of me that looked like they’d been through hell and back. “Let them think what they want. It’s just noise, Logan.”
I let out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “Noise, huh? Well, that noise gets pretty damn loud sometimes.” My voice broke, my hand coming up to grip her wrist, holding onto her like she was the only solid thing in my world. “I mean, hell...if this is how they act when we’re just dating, what’re they gonna say if I...if I ever asked you to marry me?”
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, so damn calm, brushing her lips over my forehead. “Logan, I don’t care what they say. I’m here with you. I chose you.”
Those words broke something in me, something buried so damn deep it hadn’t seen daylight in decades. Before I knew it, my throat tightened, my eyes burning with something I hadn’t felt in years. I closed my eyes, letting her hold me, feeling the steady beat of her heart as I let the tears fall.
After a moment, I pulled back, taking her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing along her cheekbones, rough and calloused.
“I’m gonna mess this up, you know,” I muttered, trying to manage a half-smile, the sarcasm slipping out of habit. “Gonna scare you off with all this old-man crap.”
She smirked, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Then you better hold on to me tight, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”
I kissed her, slow, letting myself feel every second, every taste of that damn cinnamon latte still lingering on her lips. Holding her like she was the one damn thing keeping me together.
904 notes · View notes
st-dionysus · 3 months ago
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(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW
It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.
I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.
I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.
I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.
I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.
Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.
T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.
I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.
I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.
I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.
I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.
I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.
I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.
No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.
I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.
I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.
I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.
I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.
I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.
My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.
It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?
A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.
I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.
I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.
Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.
I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.
I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.
Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.
Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.
Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.
Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?
Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.
I puke and miss the toilet.
654 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 2 months ago
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Anomaly Part 2
Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.
Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader
2.1k Words
Part 1
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School assemblies were fun in their own way. You weren’t exactly brimming with school spirit but you could fake it for a half-hour when it got you out of your History class. Everyone was ushered into the gym at the end of the day to celebrate the sport season. You had no idea if the Hawkin’s Tigers were good or not, you could really only name two and a half people on the basketball team: Jason Carver, who you unfortunately had shared a free period with once, Lucas Sinclair, who you had seen talking to Eddie once in a blue moon, and Steve Harrington who had graduated, so he didn’t really count. You vaguely remembered working with him on some school project for two days and thinking that you just wanted to squish his hair down to see if it would spring back up. 
Stacy bounded over to you in the bleachers, decked out in more Tiger’s Green than a leprechaun. She shook the scrunchy out of her hair and slipped it onto your wrist. You sometimes wondered how she never became a cheerleader with how perky she was.
“There, now you look like you tried.” she giggled, nudging you. 
“I was gonna scribble on my face with a green dry erase marker, but Mr. Thompson’s had run dry.” You said. 
“He was probably lying so you wouldn’t steal one and huff it in the bathroom.” 
“Hey, that was one time and 4th grade math was hard.” you cackled. 
“Speaking of hard drugs, look who decided to actually show up.” Stacy smirked and your stomach instantly dropped as you followed her gaze. 
“What the fuck is Eddie doing here?” you whispered to Stacy. “He doesn’t do pep rallies!”
“Guess he does now.” she shrugged. 
Eddie was a few rows lower than you, leaning against the end railing of the bleachers. You vaguely wondered if he was burning up in that leather jacket, it wasn’t exactly cool in the gym with so many bodies all squished together. 
He was alone, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You didn’t blame him, this clearly wasn’t a place where he fit in. You looked down the bleachers in the opposite direction, unable to pick out any of his friends. During pep rallies, the bleachers were divided by grade, with Seniors on your end of the bleachers, and freshmen on the opposite end. Maybe Eddie was pressing himself against the railing to create his own section of Super Seniors. 
If he was anyone else, you’d join him in that section, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. 
“He looks lonely, go talk to him before they start.” Stacy encouraged. 
“Please, I doubt he’d want to talk to me at any other time. You think he wants to talk to me now?” you asked incredulously. 
“What’s the worst that could happen?” 
“He could convince me to join a cult and then sacrifice me to the dark forces.” you said, looking over at him. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 
Eddie’s head snapped up and he whirled around. Out of everyone around, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. 
Oh shit.
He heard that. 
His round brown eyes sized you up, and you cringed out of embarrassment for your stupid joke. You felt like a deer in the headlights. Eddie was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time and you were about two seconds away from jumping off the back of the bleachers and tunneling your way out of the school. 
Next to you, you could practically feel Stacy shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter, which unfortunately, triggered your own set of nervous giggling because this whole thing was so stupid and Eddie was still looking at you. 
He looked unimpressed, and flipped you off before turning back around to sulk against the railing again as the band suddenly started up, and everyone started cheering for the team. 
“Gotta say, I am nailing this, Stacy.” You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. “Practically had the boy swooning.”
“Yeah, he’ll be asking you out any day now.” She rubbed your back sympathetically. 
“I can’t believe he heard me. He totally thought I was being serious.” Your giggles finally subsided and you looked up at her. 
“It would be very easy to clear this up, if you’d just talk to him.” She said. 
“I don’t like it when you’re rational, you know.” you replied and glanced at him again. Eddie was no longer looking at you and was just fiddling with his rings as he watched boredly as Principal Higgens was giving announcements. 
You had to apologize. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to think that you were really like that. You didn’t buy into the bullshit that some dice and graph paper could damn your soul to hell. 
“Fuck it, I’m going in.” you said, and turned to head towards Eddie. 
“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” 
You made your way to the edge of the bleachers, and three things happened in quick succession. First, Miles Cooper got overly enthusiastic as you passed by him, and his elbow made a quick and sharp connection to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. The second thing that happened was a stray backpack got kicked right in front of you as you staggered from the shock of being elbowed. The third and final thing was you falling down the two benches of bleachers that separated you and Eddie. 
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“You can either go to the pep rally and act like you are a part of this school, or you can have detention, Mr. Munson. The choice is yours.” 
Normally, no one gave a shit if Eddie skipped out on something like a pep rally. That time was better spent either reading in an empty classroom or as a smoke break in the parking lot. He had just made it out to the parking lot before he was spotted and given the option. Eddie had been good about not skipping class this year, but he really didn’t want to give Higgins another reason to threaten to withhold his diploma. 
So there he was, leaning against the railing of the furthest bleachers so that the second the pep rally ended, he could just book it back to the van and leave to.. Somewhere. Uncle Wayne had work, and Eddie didn’t have a shift at the Hideout. There was no Hellfire today. 
Eddie was feeling restless as he fidgeted with his rings. Today had already been annoying and he really just wanted to sneak out to his van and have a smoke. It’s not like anyone here would miss him, they’d probably celebrate his departure more than the entrance to the basketball team. 
He looked down at his hands, taking his rings off and rearranging them on his fingers. He tapped them on the railing, listening to the sounds they made as he counted the seconds for this whole thing to be over. 
As his mind started to wander off, a voice snapped him back to the hell he was currently in. “-join a cult and sacrifice me to the dark forces.” 
It was always obvious when someone was talking about Eddie. Normally he’d let it go and ignore whoever it was, but he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. His head whipped around, looking for whoever was talking about him. 
There you were with Stacy, again. Eddie wished he could be surprised, but he wasn’t. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over. You weren’t dressed in anything that screamed “school spirit” except for a scrunchie around your wrist. 
He saw how you cringed at the sight of him, which only pissed him off more. What was your fucking problem? You were friends with Stacy, who had been on the cheer squad before her ankle gave out, the skaters liked, you liked everyone. Everyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson. 
Eddie had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that maybe the two of you just hadn’t crossed paths enough. Maybe it wasn’t personal. But now, after hearing you say that you also thought he was some sort of demon worshiping freak he was fine to write you off as just another Hawkins student. Maybe then he could finally move past this weird feeling he had whenever you gave him the stink eye. 
Stacy started giggling next to you, and Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn’t worth it to start anything now at the pep rally. He was already on thin ice after being caught trying to skip. The sooner this was over the better. 
His attention drifted as Higgins droned on and on about school spirit and upcoming fundraisers and games. It was all background noise. In his mind, Eddie was working out the next dungeon that Hellfire was going to take on. His party was getting too used to his usual tricks, so he’d have to pull out something new to really throw them off-
There was a choked off gasp. 
Then a curse. 
Then a horrible cracking sound as something fell next to him.
“Jesus-!” Eddie jumped nearly a foot in the air as you hit the bleacher next to him. His eye nearly bugged out as he saw you sprawled next to him, clutching your stomach and gasping for air like a fish. 
Everyone in the section was still as they all stared at you, before a few started to snicker. Stacy was quick to jump down with far more grace and land by your side. Eddie was completely frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard Miles Cooper say- 
“It was Munson! He did it!”
Eddie’s head snapped to Miles, about to say something before a teacher sharply demanded the Eddie get off the bleachers and come down for what was sure to be a one-sided lecture and detention for something he didn’t do. 
He didn’t fight it, he was about to argue and cause a scene right now in the bleachers. Not when that teacher had a fire in her eyes that said she was just itching for trouble. Fine, he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. 
Eddie walked down the bleachers and followed the teacher out into the hallway. He was already tuning out the lecture about watching your body and not hitting girls. This was such bullshit, and he knew he couldn’t even fight back and defend himself. 
“Look, I didn’t touch her!” Eddie couldn’t stop the frustration in his voice. “She was behind me when she fell!”
“Witnesses say otherwise.” The teacher crossed her arms. 
“Look, just because that dumbass said it was true-” 
There was a loud CLANK as the heavy doors to the gym burst open and to Eddie’s surprise, you were rushing through the door, holding onto your arm. 
You made a beeline for him and the teacher and Eddie could already see it now. Your fake tears as you cried about how the freak shoved you down for no reason-
“Didn’t... do it.” you were shaking your head and panting hard. With your free hand you were pointing at Eddie. “He didn’t... he didn’t do anything... Miles elbowed me. Then I tripped. Eddie never.... Touched me.” 
Stacy was behind you and grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you in place. “Eddie didn’t do anything, Mrs. Jane.” she explained. “She was just trying to go get some water and ate shit. Eddie had nothing to do with it.”
You nodded, still panting hard as if trying to catch your breath. Stacy was rubbing your back, and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. 
Eddie felt like he had just stepped into an alternate timeline. You were actually defending him? You were in that much pain but had still come running to claim his innocence? 
Mrs. Jane looked at you with concern. “Eddie, you may go back to the pep rally.” She dismissed him without so much as an apology for chewing him out. 
Fuck this. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way back towards the gym, but slipped into a side hall. The pep rally was going to be over soon anyway, he might as well beat traffic. 
He paused just as he was out of sight. Fine, he was a little nosey and mildly concerned as you had just come to his rescue. 
“I... I think I hurt my arm.” you said, and he could hear the real pain in your voice. 
“I’ll take her to the nurse.” Stacy said. 
Eddie heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly slipped out of the school before Mrs. Jane caught him escaping. 
Yeah, he was going to need something stronger than a cigarette after this. 
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I really didn't think the original blurb would get much attention lol
Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach
@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias
@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess
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@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta
@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart
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darklinsblog · 10 months ago
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Blinding Ire | Mattheo Riddle
Summary: Mattheo couldn’t bring himself to admit his feelings for the Hufflepuff girl, but as Goyle puts his hands on her, his anger got the best of him.
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff! Reader
Warnings: Harrasement, mentions of physical assault
A/N: Couldn’t Shake the thought off of my head so here it is
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As an Scamander and coming from a long line of outstanding wizards you truly wore your family’s name with pride. You had half of Hogwarts crushing and drooling to your feet, you were breath taking gorgeous, smart and everyone just wanted to be around you.
Mattheo Riddle was no other than a polar opposite, smug, cold in his demeanor, borderline arrogant and self-centered but he would be lying if he said you did not catch his eye.
But he did not allow himself to pursue you actively, he couldn’t explain it, but when it came to you his confidence flew out the fucking astronomy tower. He could barely put together a whole sentence.
To your understanding, Mattheo was just reserved, so his sharpness when talking didn’t cut through you.
Something nobody seemed to know was that Goyle had been stalking you for months now, at first you thought it was a simple crush but it started escalating as he began following you around the corridors, sneaking into your dorm when you were in class and stealing your personal belongings.
Honestly, it started being unsettling how unsafe you felt, but you didn’t have the courage to speak up. Goyle could just throw money onto the whole situation and make it go away and in the end, you would be the one to blame.
Perhaps you should have spoken up, but you thought it was better to not make a fuss, involve the families and make a scandal that would follow your moves like the ghosts at Hogwarts.
Right now, you were in Class for Care Of Magical Creatures and Goyle was slowly and carefully making his way to you, whilst you graciously scurried away, Mattheo noticed this, making his eyebrows raise and his eyes narrowed distrusting.
But just then Hagrid gave you the instructions to go seek for food for the Fire Crab, the group broke apart and you went your way,focusing solely on the assignment at hand, allowing yourself to enjoy nature until you began hearing footsteps behind you.
“Hello?” You called out but there were no answers other than the crackles of branches, leaves and the wind. “Anyone there?!”
Nothing.
You took a deep breath and walked a few steps before a hand covered your mouth, you screamed and squirmed away. Suddenly, you were spooned around to find Goyle looking at you with crazy eyes.
“G-Goyle?” You spoke trembling, he stepped closer to you and you flinched back
“Bloody hell you are never gonna love me, are ya?” His tone was dark and as he keep stepping closer until you decided to take a leap and started running away into the woods feeling your heart pounding.
But Goyle tackled you to the ground, pinning you down onto the soil as you tried to break free but it was useless, he was twice your size, holding you so roughly you were certain your wrists were near to crack in two.
“HELP! PLEASE HELP!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the tears started rolling down your face.
“SHUT IT!” He screamed in your face half-panicking and just as he raised his hand, ready to slap you across the face, his hand caught mid-air.
In the blink of an eye Goyle was off you and as you were now free from danger, you noticed the image of none other than Mattheo Riddle punching Goyle straight in his face, making blood pour out of his nose.
Although , Goyle could land a few punches that would too, cause harm, Mattheo was a raging bull, there was no way of stopping his ire.
You sat there completely out of it, as you watch the scene unfold, but you wanted to do something, anything to stop Mattheo from getting more hurt or in trouble for defending you, but your body was utterly unresponsive to your heart desires.
The commotion was so big the whole class catch up to the woods, you saw how Theodore, Draco and Lorenzo force him up. Yet, he was fighting them off trying to finish what he started.
“IF YOU FUCKING LAY A FINGER ON HER EVER AGAIN I WILL AVADA KEDAVRA YOUR ASS!” He roared.
“OI! Let’s not get carried away, will ya?” Hagrid said rapidly, trying his best to get a hold of such disaster.
Then, at such words, a switch light up in Mattheo’s brain, he looked in your direction and you were still sat down, with your back resting against a tree and your eyes wondering into absolute nowhere.
The Riddle boy approached you calmly, even with his clothes stained with the blood of his numerous injuries, somehow he projected an oddly reassuring calmness as his eyes found yours.
“Y/N you-“ he started questioning you but was quickly caught off guard by you launching into his arms and holding onto him for dear life.
He was taken back for a moment before slowly embracing you as you clawed onto the fabric of his shirt
“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” you kept mumbling in his ear as you cried, and even though your hug was doing no good to his bruises and fresh wounds, he could not have given less of a flying fuck.
Because in that moment, his only purpose was to ensure you felt safe. So much so, that he refused to leave your side as you went to the hospital wing, you were just checked up and asked about what happened, while Mattheo acted as if you were the one injured, constantly asking if you were okay.
After you were let go off, you visited Mattheo’s bed, he was freshly patched up and his eyes lighted up at the sight of you, he had a charming smile plastered on his face that almost made you forget his cuts and dry blood.
“Hi” you greeted him softly.
“Hey” you played with your fingers nervously, as the heat creeped up your cheeks, not knowing what to say. Whilst Mattheo soaked in the sight of you completely mesmerized.
“Does it hurt?” You asked inspecting his face and he shook his head.
“I’ve gotten used to it. Don’t sweat it, sweet girl” he shrugged, you smiled softly and Mattheo realized he had called you sweet girl without thinking of it.
“As grateful as I am I would appreciate you, not disfiguring your face in my behalf, Mattheo” you joked making him laugh.
“Why’s that?” He asked curiously stepping closer to you.
“You might have a nice face to look at” you teased, nuzzling his cheek with your index finger softly, your touch was so gentle and mindful it was practically impossible to explain how he felt his skin burst into flames.
“Might? That hurt, Scamander”
“You’ll survive, Riddle”
You were both smiling and there was a moment of absolute silence before his eyes softened.
“You sure you’re alright? Say the word and he’s dead” he said with mischief but you knew he meant it and it was an odd feeling to know someone was willing to kill for you. Especially if that someone was Mattheo Riddle.
“What? Are you in love with me or something?” You joked nervously, he did not crack a smile, but you could see something clicked inside him as he looked at you dead in the eye.
“Yes” you were surprised as he answered you without hesitation and you just kissed him, finding words wouldn’t cut it, this boy was your biggest crush for years and he had just saved you from an ugly situation, kept you safe and confessed his feelings, you would be dammed if you let that go.
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bimbosandbubbles · 11 months ago
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Four Square
Starring Yandere Hisoka,Chrollo,and Illumi aka the adult trio x healer chubby reader
Warnings-manipulation,lying,coercion,hinted stalking,breaking and entering, Hisoka being Hisoka,ass slapping,foursome,dirty talking,breeding kink(no creampies tho), dry humping,pussyjob, thigh riding,fingering,praise, a dash of degradation, unhealthy behavior,obsession,possessive behavior,YANDERE,hairy pussy,hairy legs(Body hair is normal and I’m totally pushing the agenda with my fics),spitting,odd scent kink?,blow jobs,hand jobs,pussy eating,omg finally protected sex in one of my fics. Honestly not so many tbh(compared to my other fics)not really proofread! Sorry!
Wc-13.6k(ya’ll I got rid of 7k more words)
Taglist- @shaisuki @lilyalone @999-ang3l @queenmimis @agnl2000 @thewickedofrizz @kelly-fushiguro345
"Illumi,you will not wed to a woman that does not carry the same blood as us. She's nothing but a mere commoner." A high posh voice protests.
Black,empty eyes star deadly daggers at the person who spoke those words with such confidence. "I will not hesitate to cut off your tongue if you speak one more ill word about my soon to be wife,mother." The woman gasps,"Illumi! You don't speak to me in such a way!" A monotone voice counters,"I can and will. You mean nothing to me compared to her."
Just the mentioning of his sweet savior in the third person arouses cherished memories,memories that he's saved and replayed ever since he's left your care. He remembers your gentle caresses,the calm tone you spoke to him as you nursed his intense wounds. How you uttered his name with such affection the longer you took care of him.
He longs to see you again,longs to feel your touch,longs to hear your honeyed voice rant and ramble about your day to him. He misses oh so very much,his bride who's so far away from him now. He wonders what you're doing—he should call.
A ghost of a smile draws onto his face at the thought. Should he video call you or no? He wants to see your bright smile as you say his name so happily. He's pulled away from his thoughts by his father's deep voice. "If you really feel this way for such a low woman why didn't you just take her away?"
This question peaks Illumi's interest—why didn't he take you back home with him? His family would've grown to love and be fond of you quite easily. Was is because he thinks you'd be angered with him? He couldn't bare to feel you being cross with him—resenting him for stealing away your free will. No,he just needs you to treat him as you do,with such care and love that he'll never get enough of. But apart of him wishes he took you with him,wishes you were here now—lounging with him and touching him in the he way he's grown to love. And this causes Illumi confused,an emotion he often feels when it comes to you,not used to the foreign feelings you give him.
The confusion leaves Illumi without a answer to his fathers question. But that doesn't stop Illumi from replying,"That is besides the point,mother is fighting me on claiming what surely belongs to me. I deserve my (Reader),I deserve to have her as my wife and as the mother of the future Zoldyck bloodline." His parents are baffled by their quiet and normally unfeeling son who seems to be throwing a tantrum at the ripe age of 26.  Silva's cool yet bright blue eyes stare into his son's black ones,thoughtfully thinking about a way to go about this.
Finally he sighs,"Take her then. Wed her and bed her. But know they're are others who want her just as badly as you do." Illumi squints his eyes at that—what others would possibly have the guts to take you from him,one of the most  deadly assassins there is. "And those others will be killed  by my hand mercilessly."He coldly states. Silva huffs with humor,"Not when you find out who those others are." 
Illumi hands clench into fists,"How do you know such information and I don't?" It angered Illumi that his father dare know more about you than he does. Especially because Illumi keeps a watchful eye on you through others,hiring many spies to report to him about you whereabouts. So how does his father know this? 
"You think my son being interested in a woman for the first time in his life isn't business to me? Me and your mother know much more than we lead on about your little healer woman." Illumi speaks with tight lips,"Who.is.it." Silva smiles,"She's your woman,find out yourself."
Illumi manifests a needle out of thin air,"You will tell me exactly what I want to know." Silva chuckles heartily,"Threatening me? Wow you must really love this common woman,huh? Tell me Illumi when was the last time we fought?" Illumi frowns deeply at his father's amusement—irked with his enjoyment of playing with his newfound emotions.
"Don't toy with me father. I'm no longer a little boy." He spits with venom. "That you are not,my son. I suppose I will give you a small hint since you are a smart man. Two men you've allied yourself with in the past want are the ones who wish to have her. "
Illumi looks as shocked as his face will allow him to be. It couldn't be who he thought it was....right?
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"Oh Hisoka,don't buy me that!" You demand. "Nonsense,my dove. You'll look so pretty for me in this little dress."  You shiver due to the proximity of his plush lips to your skin. "So,you only want to buy me something cause you'll like it? And here I thought you were being nice to me 'Soka."
The male wraps his lanky arms around your wide waist,not forgetting to grip the pudge of your stomach through the material of your wool turtle neck. He bends down to your ear,whispering lowly—the tone so seductive you get chills going down your spine. "You know I'll always be nice to you...unless you don't want to me which I can gladly do as well." 
You clear your throat, flustered by his actions,"I'll keep that in mind 'Soka." He hums,his sharp nails digging into the pliable flesh of your plentiful stomach. "So,my dove will you allow me to get you this dress or will you be stubborn with me?" 
"You already know the answer." You say teasingly. "Your stubbornness is so cute—but you must know either way I always get what I want." Your brow raises,"And what do you want this time?" Hisoka leers at you with his cat like eyes,licking his lips before his answer,"I want you to stop denying me when I wish to spoil you. I owe you after all."
You laugh sarcastically,"You owe me? Last time I checked you saved me even if you didn't mean to." You recall the night so vividly as you mentioned. You were calmly walking in the night,just getting home from a long day and your tired body became slowly unaware to the world around you. You became so numb,so unaware in fact you didn't hear the running steps of someone behind you. Before you knew it a man covered in bruises and wounds head to toe had grabbed you,pushing you to shield him in some way.
Then you felt a cool blade pressed against the plushness of your neck. You remember fighting and struggling against the male's overpowering strength. He shouted across your shoulder,muttering about something along the lines of "I'll kill her if you take one step closer." In the midst of that though you finally meet the eyes of the bloodied clown.
Hisoka had easily disposed of the man,shaming him for putting someone as weak as you are in a fight you're useless in. After that you chased him down,begging him for a chance to thank him properly. He was disinterested in you from the start and it wasn't until you offered to heal his wounds that he even entertained you.
From then on Hisoka would pop up when he got injured and you'd loyally heal him as thanks for saving your life. Eventually the two of became actual friends? You don't know what you're relationship is with him due to how he does things such as this.
"Oh noooo my dove,I only killed that man because he was hurting your pretty little neck." You roll your eyes,"Okay then,what about after,huh? You said people like me were pathetic and wastes of space." Hisoka leans his head on your shoulder,his tall body looking deformed from how far he's bending,"Hush,I was only being so mean to you cause I didn't realize how useful these hands of yours are."
At his words you're reminded what type of man Hisoka really is. A man who sees only the strong and never the weak,a man who's full of intense bloodlust that simply gets turned on in promise of a good fight. So it makes you ponder why he hasn't gotten rid of you yet? Sure,you're a healer but there's many others who better at it. You're not even a healer who uses nen,only herbs and traditional medicine being practiced by you. And still you remain alive,untouched and unharmed by a killers hand.
It seems Hisoka has made you feel too important,too valuable to him,that you've grown to feel comfortable—safe from his bloodlust. "So I'm only alive because of my healing ability?" You try to conceal the hurt in your voice but Hisoka still picks up on it. Immediately he turns to comfort you,"Oh my dove—no,no, you mean so much more to me than that. I just worded it wrongly."
"Yeah,right. So how long do I have until my hands have no use for you Hisoka?? I can't believe for a second I thought—" Your rant is cut off when a pale hand loosely wraps around your throat. The grip is painless,barely noticeable honestly but it's the fact you know that Hisoka could easily kill you with just a tightening of his grip. "Hush,do you think so low of me as to murder you? How dare you. Honestly,you need to give me some credit." He practically purrs out.
"I care for you my dear (Reader), a concerning amount might I add. So when I say something"—he leans down closer to your face,his lips gently kissing the chubby skin of your cheeks,"I mean it. Do not ever accuse me of just simply using you again,you understand,my dove?"
But Hisoka is using you in a sense,just not that one you were implying. He's not using you for the learned skill you possess—no no,it's much more. You've given something to Hisoka that rivals even his bloodlust,you've laid bare to him the feeling of obsession. A feeling that drives him deliriously mad in sick pleasure—like a drug he can never get enough of. He doesn't know what it is but only you can give him such a feeling. A feeling that leads to him feeling...in love with you.
"I understand Hisoka." You nervously say. He lets go of his grip on you,patting your cheek gently in approval as he does so. "Good,my smart girl knows just what to say. Anyways,shall we get this dress for you?" He phrases it like a question but you know Hisoka will buy it anyway. "Let's buy it." You mutter with an uneasy smile,still not recovered from feeling Hisoka's hand on your throat.
"Right answer again! You're on a roll aren't you,my dove?" Hisoka praises you excitedly. "Yeah—" you're once more interrupted by the crude ringing of a cell phone. You dig in your pocket and see just who's calling you. On the screen it reads no caller id and you know exactly who it is.
"Oops,sorry Soka I gotta answer this." You wiggle your way out of his hold. This leaves Hisoka pouty,"Can't it wait? I wanted to buy food for you after this too." You chuckle,"No it can't,it only take a few minutes. And I'll be right outside." Hisoka rolls his eyes,"Alright but stay right there."
You nod and rush out the doors of the store. As soon as you feel the cool winter air on your skin your thumb presses the accept button. "You took a little long,didn't you?" The smooth voice says. "Oh give me a break, I was doing something." You playfully bite back. "Yeah,like what little spider? Were you watching those silly movies again and almost missed my call?" His tone seems playful but what lies beneath it is an annoyed man. But no,he can show his spider how upset he gets when you don't answer right away—no no such a gentle thing like you doesn't deserve to see him like that.
"Noo,for your information Chrollo, I'm actually Christmas shopping right now. I even got you a little something but I'm not sure if I should give it to you if you're gonna tease me." Chrollo chuckles,"Mmm,well I guess I have to stop for a little then. Who are you with by the way?" Your brow raises at that,"Umm what makes you think I'm with someone?"
"Don't consider me a fool (Reader), I just have a hunch." You roll your eyes at Chrollo's need to always seem mysterious in front of you. "Alright, I am with someone." You admit. "Who?" He asks,more like demands. "A friend. And does it really matter anyways?" Chrollo wishes to tell you that yes,it does really matter. Because every waking second that you don't spend with him drives him crazy. Not a single person deserves to be close to you the way he is. He wants to say all that but he settles for,"Yes because I want to see you tonight. I don't another person to hinder our time together."
"Oh no are you hurt again?" Chrollo chuckles at how concerned you sound,finding it cute. "Must I be hurt to see you,little spider?" You hum,"Mmm,yes cause those are the only times you visit me. Ya know it's not nice to do that—coming to me when you're all battered and then leaving so soon,it's so mean Chrollo cause I'm left worrying and missing you for how long God knows." Chrollo's heart beats at that,you miss him just like he does you. But there's also ache at the fact his little spider is left worried about him,that you're hurting cause of him.
But you have to understand he can only speak to you sometimes—if he did it too much you'd be hunted. And until Chrollo has you his he can't allow that. But at his core Chrollo is a truly selfish being and his selfishness is starting to show more and more. He's been indulging more frequently in his needs to see you,to smell you,to touch your velvety skin—like now.
"I'm sorry (Reader),but I'm a dangerous man I can't show up whenever I want. It's so you don't get hurt." He says. "Yeah,yeah I get that. But it still leaves me worried ya know? Anywaysss can we meet up a different day?" Chrollo sighs,"It's too late. I'm already in your house."
You nearly drop your phone in shock,"YOURE WHAT? YOU CANT JUST BREAK IN MY HOUSE!!" Chrollo hushes you,"Sshhh my spider, I just wanted to see you so bad and I knew if I waited any longer I would go mad." His soft voice eases you from your anger a little,"I get that I guess,but it's so not okay to break in my house Chrollo!" Chrollo makes small comforting noises through the phone,"I know,I know but don't be mad at me,little spider. I only longed to see you and I will confess that has caused me to act...a bit rash."
This damn sweet talker. You had to admit you had a soft spot for him since the night  you met him and that paired with his soothing words were a weapon against you. "Alright,I'll be there in a hour. Don't rush me either." You say,caving into him. "Mmm,you listen so well (Reader). Always so good to me. I'll see you,okay?"
"Okay. See ya,Chrollo." With that Chrollo hangs up and you sigh,the cool air making your breath look like fog. You turn back around and open the door only to feel the hard abdomen of someone. "So,Chrollo,huh?" The purring voice taunts.
"Hisoka! What're you doing out here?" He hums,"Well you were taking a little long for a quick phone call and wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." That was a lie Hisoka was listening from the very beginning you went outside and only now has he made himself known.
"Oh well it's not nice to easedrop,you silly clown!" You embarrassingly scold. "I wasn't easedropping,I just heard you say his name right before you hung up." He lies. His lengthy fingers reach down to grab your chin,"I was checking up on you,my dove. It's late and a cute thing like you shouldn't be outside at night for too long." His index finger and his thumb caress your chin gently,softening your suspicion of him.
Your left without a reply to that,simply settling to hum in acknowledgment. "I'm assuming you have business with him then,so that means we're not getting food?" Hisoka asks. You look at Hisoka and then remember how excited he was to take you out and for the most part you had a lot of fun minus the almost choking incident. You smile at him,"No,let's get some food 'Soka." You did say to Chrollo that you'd be an hour...so it's not a big deal,right?
Hisoka smiles brightly,"Good,I'm starving." The two of you venture off to a small burger place that you recommended to go to. Your orders come quickly and you scold Hisoka for simply getting a strawberry milkshake while you have a whole combo meal. "Hisoka you said were starving and you order a strawberry milkshake...."'
"I said I was hungry,not for what." With that his large hand makes a move to grip your plush thigh licking his full lips as he does so. "Don't make me regret sitting next to you 'Soka." You say warily. "I don't think you'd dislike what'd I'd do to you (Reader). " He purrs. "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" You say challengingly. He leans close to your ear,preparing to whisper,"You know I could easily unbutton those little jeans you got on  and put my hand on that pussy. You wouldn't fight me either,huh? You'd probably like being fingered in public,right? You dirty girl,of course you would. "
Hot heat rushes in your veins,shocked by the filthy words of your companion. " 'Soka!" You whisper shout in embarrassment. "Hmm?~" He replies,lips now trailing the shell of your ear. "S-Shut up and drink your shake." You command. Hisoka pulls away,chuckling,"You're such a innocent little thing,aren't you?" 
"Hush and drink." You say. Hisoka surrenders  and does as you say. It's silent and that allows you to think for a little bit. Your brain and body finally catch up to how Hisoka's words made you feel. As he uttered each filthy syllable you couldn't deny how your thighs slightly clenched close,how your breath hitched in hesitant arousal.. It made you feel perverted for feeling such a way because Hisoka didn't mean what he was saying,right? He's overtly sexual all the time so why'd it feel so...intimate? It's as if he really meant it.
"My dove,you're hardly touching your food. Here let me fix that." Hisoka brings a slight cold fry to your lips. "Say ahhh.." He says playfully. " 'Soka 'm not a baby..." You announce begrudgingly. You say that but your lips still part open for the fry and then you do the same for another and another and another. It goes on so long that Hisoka just starts causally hand feeding you in public. "Do you want a bite of your burger,my dove?" You nod and he easily complies,holding the burger to your mouth as you take a good size bite.
You chew and chew,missing the way Hisoka observes you. His yellows eyes light up in pure enjoyment as you let him do as he pleases to you. He revels in the way you barely even resisted him feeding you finding it so cute how you just gave into. He enjoys how much you've grown to trust him even from the beginning—following him around like a little kicked puppy,desperate to thank it's savior. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him—how he softens up around you,how he constantly spends money on you despite his motto of saving money,how he can't keep his hands off your supple body.
Not to mention how he feels when he imagines someone else treating you in such a way it makes him disgusted. How lowly of said imaginary person to believe they could actually make you happy? No,no, only Hisoka can. Only he can get you to smile that one specific way,to get you to laugh until you feel like you have to pee.
"Can I have another bite?" You ask expectantly at the man. "Yes buttt you have to say the magic word." Hisoka teases. "Please 'Soka." You plead. Hisoka gets chills running down his back,the kind he gets in a really good fight but instead of blood,he craves you. You asked so very sweet that he can't help but imagine if that's how'd you ask for his cock—soft and kind with a begging glare in your eyes.
"Of course my dove,anything you want." You smile at him as you take another bite.  Hisoka continues to feed you bite of the burger or transitioning  to the even cut fries.  Occasionally his poised fingers stop feeding you to clean off crumbs or sauce that lands on your cheeks,always licking his fingers once he wipes it off.
Finally you take your last bite,eating in grateful content. "Was that good?" Hisoka asks pleasantly. "Mhm,it was." Despite how good you said it was you sound bothered...bothered by the fact that you let Hisoka feed you,without a fight. Was it a haze of blinded trust or perhaps something else? You try not to think of it too much,deciding to change the topic.
" 'Soka I just remembered about the shopping bags. What happened to them?" Hisoka waves you off good naturally,"I stuck them in my car,no need to worry your pretty little head about it." You smile happily,a wave of alleviation crashing against you. "Good,we should get going then!"
Hisoka obliges,his tall frame standing up right and a well toned arm slinks itself around the plushness of your middle. "Let's go." He walks you over to the door and you stop abruptly to bid a goodnight to the kind employees of the establishment.
The two of you saunter off into the night,the obnoxious neon lights of the restaurant being nothing but a mere trail. Hisoka's arm tightens around your waist,pulling you even closer toward him. You can feel the heat radiate off of him,easing the cold biting air just a bit. You lean into his touch,sighing contently. An action Hisoka notices with excitement—a fox grin curling at his lips.
"You know (Reader),how I've always said that you never owe me when I buy you something?" He says. "Yes...why are you bringing this up?" You attempt to keep your tone steady but all you can think is "Oh my god,he's finally done with me! I have no use to him anymore! He's going to kill me!"  Hisoka stops walking therefore stopping you as well and at that moment you could feel yourself swallow rocks. He leans down,leering down at you menacingly—his playful grin gone and replaced with a straight expression.
"I'd like to kiss you. I promise it'll be worth your while." As soon as he mutters those words his mischievous mask paints back on. "Kiss me?" You say breathlessly,deeply confused as to why the killer clown would want to do that. "Yes,I don't usually like to repeat myself either,(Reader).You might push me too far.~" Your eyes look at his,searching for some playful game or plot in them. There's nothing but pure excitement though,the kind of excitement you've seen his eyes light up with when he's recalling a gruesome fight to you when you patch him up. He's sincere.
Without hesitation because you know anymore thought would muddle your confused brain even more—your lips open to form the first syllable of yes but are interrupted by Hisoka's mouth. He takes advantage of your already open mouth and sticks his large tongue in ,the pink muscle doing something oddly pleasurable inside. You can't help but whimper quietly as he uses your mouth so passionately. Your dull nails dig into Hisoka's forearms,causing a lewd moan to fall out of the man's mouth.
The clown takes advantage of his arm already wrapped around your waist—a skilled hand gripping the love handles with a teasing force that makes your knees weak. He pulls you closer to his own body—relishing in the fact that you're so close to him,loving the heat your soft body exudes.  He finally pulls away staring down at you—lust glazing over his bright yellow eyes.
It's silent between the two of you and you expect Hisoka to say the first word but instead he pulls you into him,enveloping you into his hard chest. " 'S-Soka?" Your voice unintentionally shakes,the shock from the kiss still overriding your brain.  "You taste so good,you little minx. I'd take you right here on this sidewalk if you weren't so pure. It's okay though,I'll wait and mold you into the perfect cocksleeve. My sweet good girl who'll take my cock so well...I just know you have the prettiest pussy. So so pretty,just like your face."
Hot red heat flushes throughout your blood system—the cold weather no longer being a bother. Was he ranting? Could he not control the filthy words flowing out of his mouth? This reminds who about how he rants and rambles when he's facing a strong opponent,yet all you've done to get him so riled up is kiss him. Your mind muddles itself to a all too thoughtful puddle—too shocked to even understand what's going on.
You thought you and Hisoka were friends,a friend to him that he'd flirt with and touch constantly—but that's just Hisoka,right? Hisoka who comes to your small home in the middle of the night,injured yet excited. Hisoka who's now patched up,that convinces you to let him stay in your bed with you. Hisoka that sometimes cuddles with you for a few hours before he disappears for another months time. Hisoka who'll call you or leave playing cards around for you to know he's still alive and well. You may not be the smartest cookie in the batch but you know Hisoka hasn't and probably never do that for anyone else. His selfish nature being a unforgettable attribute he possesses.
Hisoka who's pressed tautly against you—his hard bulge grazing against your squishy belly. You're breathless and left wordless—your body being the only  thing left to communicate with. You feel hot,so hot that you can feel how burning your hands are against Hisoka's muscular forearms. He stares down at you,his predator like eyes practically eating up your reaction of his action. He could see your body turn rigid yet you're still frame is like puddy in his experienced hands. You liked it,he knows you did. Otherwise you'd be resisting him—telling him you don't want him to touch you in such a way—to not spew such dirty things at you.
This makes Hisoka wonder how far can he go? Can he go as far putting his hand down your pants? Would you allow him to curl his extremities up into your warm hole as the two of you stand onto the calm sidewalk? Would you let him kiss the nape of your neck while he's hushing you to be mindful of people as you moan crazily on his fingers? Would you let him hump your plump jean clad ass as he gets you off on his hand?
Hisoka doesn't get to find out anything though because you've seem to finally be able to speak a sentence. "I-I have to go home 'Soka." The killer clown knows why you're saying that,knows who's waiting patiently for your promised arrival. He feels a sense of jealousy, a feeling he's never really bothered to feel before and that irks him to his core. Why? Because you were leaving him for Chrollo. He wonders if he should go with you and already begin the fight he's long been craving with the leader of the troupe. He can just see the vision of him basking in the blood of his own body and his dead's opponent,he'd beckon you over and seduce you gently,coaxing you into letting him fuck you in the pool of blood. Chrollo's dead body ominously watching as he ruts and thrusts into your body.
The fantasy alone makes Hisoka's hardened dick throb in his loosely fitted pants. But he pushes away his own lusts,smiling as he pulls away from your body. "Okay then let's go." He says cooly. You look at him with puzzlement though you drop the expression—after all you're on a time limit. He uses his arm that's connected to your waist to start the monument he stopped only a few minutes ago.
The walk to the car is quiet and awkward mostly for you. You can't shake off how that kiss made you feel...it makes you want to ask what you truly are to Hisoka. You know he does not see you as an equal—a fair opponent he wishes to fight to the death with. So like your thoughts earlier you're lead to believe you give Hisoka something he cannot go without—at least for now,til one dreaded day he's tired of you. You like to think though that you mean more to him than you really know—a comforting thought to have instead of impending death.
You wonder if Hisoka just sees you as something he wants to fuck. No—if he did than from the beginning he wouldn't have been so aloof to you. Why'd he have to be so confusing? You curse the man you've grown to weirdly cherish.
Hisoka opens the car door for you and you settle in,buckling your seat belt and fixing your clothes slightly. Before you know it he smoothly starts driving ,taking you home—the home Chrollo is patiently(impatiently) waiting for you at.
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Charcoal black eyes peer from the window of a cozy home. They watch as a obnoxiously bright car pulls up into the little drive through. Two people get out of the car,a shorter one and a much taller figure. The eyes recognize the shorter one as you—looking soft and pliable as you usually do. A bright smile plastered on your face as you hug the taller figure.
But the soft gaze the eyes held when they were staring at you is gone once they figure out just who exactly you're hugging. Chrollo wonders how this damn clown knows you—is this a ploy to get him to fight him faster? To use something he holds so incredibly dear against him? He wouldn't put it beneath Hisoka to do,nor himself though. He knows he's not all that much better compared to him.
But this is simply impossible,no one knows about you. No one even knows a shred of Chrollo's feelings for you...so maybe,just maybe this clown knows you for different reasons. Chrollo tells himself Hisoka doesn't even know your connection with him.
The man becomes so lost in thought he doesn't notice you've already made your way inside,bags in hands. His head snaps as he takes you in up close—walking over to you and reaching for the bags. "Woah,now I know I said I had a gift for you but you can't just take my bags Chrollo." You joke. Chrollo scoffs,amused,"My apologies,I must've gotten too excited."
"I guess I can let it slide since your visits are always a special occasion." You say with a bright smile,similar to the one you showed Hisoka. This irks Chrollo slightly but he just smiles back,happy to be in your warm presence once more. Chrollo sets the bags onto the table in your kitchen,knowing exactly what you're about to do.
He predicts you correctly because he feels your pillow like arms wrap around his shirtless middle. He could feel the affection you radiate for him—feeling it soak and burn itself into his body. It's the feeling of authenticity—real,not fake like Chrollo's learned emotions. That's why he liked being with you so much,you invoke a mystery feeling for him—a feeling he must learn to keep and nurture.
Your chubby face leans against the furriness of his warm jacket—the burning feeling of your cheek resting on his back. "I missed you." You croak out weakly. Were you crying for his long awaited absence? Chrollo smiles,wiggling his fingers to intertwine with yours that are securely wrapped around his torso. "I know you have my needy little spider. Tell me what you've been up to during my absence?"
Chrollo knew what you have been up to,always. But he wanted to see if you'd divulge in instances like Hisoka,an instance he had no clue about til now. How'd that slip past him? Would his little spider lie to him? He can't wait to see. He turns to face you,finding that yes,you were crying. Your eyelashes are wet and slightly more clumped together and your expression is frumpy—a small frown gently tugging at your lips. Chrollo hates and loves you're crying over him. He hates that you're sad and not crying because he's fucked you to the deepest edge of pleasure,those being the only tears you should be shedding with him. And he loves it because you're feeding into him so well,you're so receptive and even more affectionate than Chrollo himself. Perfect.
This is all going in fruition,all according to Chrollo's well thought out scheme. From your first ever encounter Chrollo found you intriguing and by the second one he knew he wanted you as strictly his. So the leader knows how gentle he has to be with you,knows he needs to slowly lead you into his obsessive hold. But tonight changed everything,Hisoka was involved with you. And that meant one thing to Chrollo—competition.
Chrollo doesn't know why the clown is interested in you but he knows for a fact that he's hanging around you for a specific reason. He's obsessed with something about you or worse obsessed with you as a whole. With Hisoka in the way,Chrollo can't smoothly lead you into his web and trap you. No,instead he has to deal with another greedy predator before he can get you.
"I'm too tired to talk about all that 'Ollo." You mutter. He knows he can't push you too far so he drops it for now. "Mmm,I knew you looked a little tired. Do you want to rest on me?" He offers gently. He sees you nod so he elegantly grips your hand pulling you with him as he sits down on one of your dining chairs.
"Chrollo I didn't think you meant on your lap!" You spew in a flustered manner. You wiggle in his grasp only making him wrap two strong arms around your fleshy middle. "Don't fight me,you'll never win. Just sit here with me." He says soothingly. You peer back at him—your body getting hotter as you get to see his handsome face in person once more. You note his cross tattoo on his forehead that sits in harmony with the rest of his handsome face,the nice slicked back comb over that shows off his pale and clear features. But nothing compares to the few times you seen Chrollo with his hair in his face—the style framing his facial structure in such a flattering way.
"Chrollo can I....?" There's a pause,the rest of the vowels and syllables unsure if they should continue. "Hmm?" He asks. "Can I play with your hair?" It comes out shy,too shy and it causes the man you're sitting on to burst out in laughter. "Whattt?" You whine. "Nothing,it's just how hesitant you were. It's cute,don't worry about it. But to answer,yes,you may."
He likes how you grin up at him for the agreement of your affection. But he finds it silly that you don't know how much he craves your touch. It's gentle and kind,much like you. Do you not notice how he always slightly hums when you rub him or even fiddle with his fingers? Do you not notice how he shuts his eyes contentment? It's amazing that you don't know what effect you have on him.
Your chubby hand reaches up and starts playing with the strands,occasionally going up further to calmingly rub at his scalp. It's silent,like it often is when you have Chrollo as company. You guys do talk but most of the time that is spent with Chrollo is tranquil—void of anything but quietness.
"Chrollo?" You call out again. "Hmm?" His eyes are shut,enjoying the treatment of having his hair played with. You don't know what compels you to ask this but after the events with Hisoka touching you in such a intimate way...you really can't help it. "How do you feel about me?"
The air is thick,coated with tension that the sharpest knife couldn't even cut. It feels like hours before he answers and honestly you felt like crying just out of the pure embarrassment you felt. Chrollo's grip on your middle runs down to your abundant hips—gripping possessively at them. "I feel happy around you...genuinely happy, in a way I haven't felt since I was a little kid in Meteor City. I feel real around you, like I don't have to reel you in with any charm or tricks because you simply like me. I like that simplicity of that,how you actually like me and I can't help but keep coming back for more of you. The way I feel about you (Reader)..." he grips even tighter on your pliant hips,"is something I never felt before."
Chrollo barely scrapped the tip of the iceberg of how he feels about you. He wouldn't dare tell you that he's deeply obsessed with your existence. Wouldn't even dare speak of the grotesque acts he's ordered down on others for the sake of the relationship he wants to build with you. That would ruin his slow conditioning he's enforced since day one.
"C-Chrollo I don't know what to say..." you slump in his lap,staring back at him in uncertainty. His warm lips lean down to grace the little exposed skin of your neck,"Then don't think..just feel how I want to you to feel for the rest of your time with me." Your brows crinkle at that,what could that possibly mean? But then you feel it...the feeling of Chrollo's talented hands explore the expanse of your body.
It feels like whiplash having this happen twice,especially so close in time. It almost makes you feel dirty—ashamed for allowing not one but two men to touch you in such a way. The only thing stopping you from pulling you away from Chrollo is how good his hands felt on your clothed body.
They wander,touching your covered chest—squeezing the fatty flesh in a vice grip. "You're...so soft." Chrollo murmurs,almost in a trance. "Mmf t-thank you!" You hurriedly spit out. His hand goes to your tummy—his slippery fingers creep underneath your thick turtleneck,the cool contact of his skin making you gasp lewdly. "You sound so good too." He hums.
Underneath you,you couldn't ignore the hard bulge pressing against your ass. You could feel the imprint of it,even the bent shaft that's partly stuffed into the side of his pocket. It's big—really big,at least it feels like it. Hands that lay beneath your shirt—touching and caressing the rolls that adorn the sides of your torso—the fingertips touch you so gently causing the illusion of soft kisses riddling your tummy. "You're such a sweet thing, everything about you is malleable,so moldable. You're perfect,so perfect." Chrollo whispers in your ear,the tone full of affection and lust.
"Don't say that...'M not perfect." You deny. "No but you are to me. You're everything I could ever want." He kisses your ear,a loving action. Ironic for a thief to say—to admit he's fulfilled with you yet he and his troupe still take from the weak.  "I want to do something,is that okay with you,my spider?" You look up at him,glazing trust in your eyes that makes Chrollo melt. "Okay." You say breathlessly.
"Turn to face me,I want you to sit on one of my thighs,okay?" You look at him curiously but you still find your legs straddling his thigh. "Good,good." He places his hands back on your hips,the warmth making you feel even hotter than you initially were. "I want you to move now. You can do that right,(Reader)?"
"M-Move?" You repeat. Chrollo could see the worry paint your pretty features—he wants to laugh but he holds it in. "Don't think,my darling. Just do as I say. You'll feel good,I promise." His honeyed voice oozes dominance despite the leveled tone he speaks with. "Move." He says.
It's like there's some type of drug in his voice—something that compels you to follow his orders. You start moving very slowly on his thigh,barely feeling any friction. But the small moments you do your posture shoots up straight like an arrow and small pleasures gasps tumble off your tongue.
Chrollo watches you as he normally does—drinking in your reaction. This was rash—Chrollo wasn't planning to introduce something so sexual to you yet,he was going to wait to establish his feelings for you and organically build what he wanted with you—slowly grooming you for his obsessive and possessive ways to the point you wouldn't question him. But something in him snapped,perhaps it was the questioning of how he felt or the realization of Hisoka's unexpected company.
Chrollo's possessive and he supposes he wants leave a mark on you. He figures you hadn't let Hisoka get away with something this far and he'd be the first and only. "Take off your pants for me." You look up at him,anxiety coating your glazed pupils,"C-Chrollo no one's ever seen me like that before ..." His expression softens,the lust in his eyes practically fading away.
Perfect! Perfect! No one has touched or seen you in such a way,this was amazing news for the man vexed with you. He could have you fully to himself if he played his cards right—he has the urge to be greedy right now and completely strip you away from your virginity. But he decides against it,his little spider would take baby steps to him just like he planned. Plus he's already pushing the limits by initiating something so sexual.
"Oh my love,no need to be shy with me. I love how you look regardless,just trying to make you feel good,that's all. But I can't do that if you keep your pants and panties on." His tone is babying,talking down to you like a learning a child. "Would you please take them off for me, hmm?" He makes it sound like a suggestion but you get the feeling it's not—just a gentler method of getting what he wants from you. 
You slide off his thigh,standing upright and leisurely unbuttoning your pants. It's slow,shy and accidentally seductive to the man before you.  You could feel his eyes burn into you,making you even more insecure than you'd like to be. Chrollo usually makes you feel safe despite his dangerous status,yet something's different within him now. This is the first time you've ever felt smaller to Chrollo—powerless and forced to a meek little thing that obeys him. Chrollo feels carnal—lacking his gentleness he usually exudes,reduced to nothing more than a predator succumbing to his hunger.
Your pants pool to your ankles and you're regretfully reminded of the poor choice of underwear for this moment. They're dingy and old,comfort panties—not a really hot guy wants me to get half naked for him panties. It embarrasses you to no end so you find yourself quickly pulling them down—a stark contrast to the pace of your pants.  But once you pull them down you feel another embarrassment,a more permanent one.
Hair litters your mound,blocking any view of the inner beauty that's in between the fat lips. At this point you wouldn't even like to indulge in anything with the man you find so attractive. Your hands go to cover your private area,ashamed of the hair that basically hides your pussy. "Don't—Don't hide for me. I want to see everything." He says.
"But I haven't shaved or anything and it doesn't even look good and and—" You're cut off—two strong arms wrap around your wrist to pull you in and once your are you're met with a hot kiss that quickly gets broken. "Nonsense,it's just as pretty as it would be bare. Don't shame what I want to call mine—saying it doesn't look good is an insult to me. Especially cause I'm so hard for you—look," he pauses to pull your hand to his throbbing length,"you feel that,that's for you,my shy girl." Your finger's carefully trace the shape,causing the man to wince a little in unreleased pleasure.
"As much as I'd like to feel you touch me...this isn't about me. Get on the edge of the table and spread your legs for me."  You obey,awaiting the man's actions with opened legs. He hums appreciatively,eyeing the wet slit he gets to see now—he eats up how the the moisture slightly sticks to the pubes,finding it incredibly erotic knowing he made you that wet. His hands slide you even more forward to the point you'll fall front ways if he wasn't nestled in between your thighs.
He places his thigh to the height of your cunt,pulling you closer by your ass cheeks. You gasp as his fingers dig into the self made holes of cellulite that riddle your ass. Another gasp falls from you as he now fully sits you on his thigh. You wonder if it'll give out soon due to your not so light weight but you don't voice this,knowing Chrollo would wave the notion away.
"Now you can move." Chrollo states. It's a few seconds before you think to move but Chrollo gives a warning slap on your ass to obey him. Your shaking hands grip onto his muscular shoulders—your pelvis making an effort to move back and forth onto the expanse of his thigh.
Small mewls and whimpers of pleasure tumble out your o shaped lips. But that's not good enough for Chrollo—no he needs to hear you moan for him.  He abuses his grip on your ass by forcing you to move faster—harder onto his leg. "Just like that...just like that. You're doing so good...I could feel your slick go through my pants,so cute how wet you are for me."
He leans into you,kissing your face affectionately in a loving manner instead of a lustful one. His lips set sights on the little skin of your neck that's exposed from the turtle neck and they latch on—sucking and biting his claim onto you. He pulls away to look at his work,admiring how the mark is a slight darker complexion compared to your skin color.  His eyes watch at your expression—engrossed in your ajar mouth that moans for him  and your shut eyes that are closed so tight the skin around your eyes wrinkle.
He feels his cock throb at the sight—the sight of your hips stuttering occasionally against him,the sight of your hairy pussy spread apart by his thigh—it's not only the view that leaves him throbbing it's feeling of your oozing wetness seeping into his pants,coating his pale skin underneath.
"Chrollo!" You whine,the grip of his shoulders tightening immediately. "You're gonna cum soon,aren't you?" You furiously nod. His hands once again move you faster against him,his grip onto your ass being unbreakable. "That's right...cum for me,yes that's a good girl. So good,so good!"
He feels your hurried breaths against him,the desperate whines that flee your parted lips—dull fingers dig into the warmth of his usual coat. You begin to feel like a weak tree flailing in the wind,loosing control of your own stimulated body. Your ministrations come to an halt,leaving Chrollo confused,he hasn't felt you cum so why'd you stop?  "Why'd you stop?" The way he says it is calm yet you could hear the annoyance slightly oozing out. "Just need a break,'m not used to feeling so much." You reason breathlessly.
"Did I tell you to stop?" He asks. "No but—" He silences you with a sentence,"No,that's right. I didn't so that means don't stop."  He slaps your ass roughly—a consequence,no a reminder he's the one who's in control. "I'm sorry Chrollo, I didn't mean it like that!" The man hushes you,rubbing your head gently,"I know,I know,you're not used to something like this but you just need obedient which I know such a smart girl like you can be. But instead of one orgasm,you're gonna have to give me as many as I would like,okay?"
You nod warily,not wanting to disappoint Chrollo  once more. "Good girl. Now,start again." The minute you pick up momentum it's a never ending attack of orgasms against your cunt.  You begin to lose hold of your conscious,only becoming a slobbering mess on top of Chrollo.
Babbles upon babbles escape you to the point you don't care what you say. You have no room to think—no room to even breath,the sex filled air snuffing your senses. And throughout each earth shattering orgasm Chrollo's there to talk you through it. Soft hymns of praises direct your eardrums to keep moving,to keep grinding your cunt on his thigh.
But you can't take it anymore,your abdomen aches from thrusting so hard,your heart is beating so rapidly,and not to mention the dull feeling that throbs uncomfortably between your dripping thighs. You slump forward into the shirtless man, unable to even hold your body up anymore,your back is met with Chrollo rubbing soft circles on it,kissing the side of your temple as he does so.
"Good,that's enough now. Let's take you to bed." You huff against him tiredly,furthering your position to lean on him more. He easily lifts you up,grabbing the underside of your thighs with his hand to keep your body snug against him. He walks you over to your bedroom,gently setting you down onto the fluffy mattress once he arrives.
He walks around your room,somehow knowing just which drawer you keep your panties in and he grabs a comfortable pair that he cautiously slides up your meaty legs. "Don't leave mee 'Ollo. Please,won't get to see you again." You sleepily call out. Chrollo smiles amusedly,"I won't leave. Don't worry. I'll take care of your while you sleep." He reassures,although it's a lie.
He would be leaving as soon as you shut your eyes but not because he wants to. Because has to. He knows you'll be upset about it in the morning,hurt and conflicted by his disappearance. You wouldn't have to suffer that any longer though,soon you'd always be by his side. He 'd have you in his web,soon,maybe sooner considering the complication of Hisoka.
He watches you collapse into slumber,leering over you like a overbearing shadow. His apparent bulge standing even more upright,he now wishes he had let your warm supple hand wrap around his cock while you pleasured yourself. He sighs,annoyed with himself. He supposes he could use your still moist cum and slick as lube when he gets back to his "home."  That would be fine,his imagination could the rest of work just alright.
He gives you one last loving look before bending down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. With that Chrollo leaves you in the night,resting,knowing you'd be searching for him in the morning.
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It's been two whole weeks since you've seen both Chrollo and Hisoka. You've called and texted Hisoka,only to be met with voicemails and unread texts. You would've done the same with Chrollo but it would've been futile because the man always has new numbers due to his chosen profession.
Your heart burns and your brain won't stop scolding yourself for being so easy. You've gone all your life being untouched in such a way yet these two man in the same night made it seem like easy work. Maybe you were too trusting...putting too much faith in evil men. You wonder what you've done wrong...were you feeding in too much? Or were you too shy?
Tears sting your vision,blinding you as you attempt to stay attentive to the cheesy romcom you've put on for some comfort. You want to slap yourself and get a grip but you can't.  Your booming heart hurts,the feeling of being used aches so deeply it's unforgettable. You begin to tell yourself that's all they possibly wanted from you anyway,you were just something entertaining,not anything of value.
Your mind goes back to the moments you've shared with them both,happy and memorable times that help aid the heaviness you feel weigh at you. What if you fought back their advances? What if you said you wanted to keep things strictly platonic despite the strong attraction to them both? What if? What if? What if? What if? Dozens of scenarios flash through your mind of what could be now if you just said no...
Your wallowing session is cut short though due to a sharp knock on the front door. You arise from your couch for the first time in hours and waddle over to the door. And once you open it you wish you weren't dressed like a hobo right now. The saggy oversized shirt and underwear combo not being a good look in front of the handsome man on the doorstep.
"Illumi!" You shout embarrassingly. You try to seem put together but you know it's useless. Your eyes are dark and baggy,your usual warm looking face is cold and sad. And that's without including the tear stains on your pudgy cheeks. You want to run and hide from Illumi's watchful gaze but you wouldn't even be able to run from him.
You can't help the urge to scrunch into yourself,to disappear into a hole and be swallowed completely for the shame that runs hot in your system.  "Who made you cry?" He asks darkly. "Oh n-no one Lumi. I'm just real emotional lately because of hormones.."
The lie doesn't seem to work because Illumi because he only asks again only more irritated. Normally you wouldn't dare to tell Illumi about someone that hurt,knowing the man would murder the person who upset you. But you're so vulnerable,so hurt,so sensitive and needy for any sense of comfort. That neediness leads you crashing into the leanly muscled chest of Illumi as you sob and tell him what transpired two weeks prior,regrettably  leaving out no details.
Needless to say the man who came over here to ask(demand) for your hand in marriage is furious. Of course,they got to you first. Of course,they already exposed you to the carnal urges that Illumi's been barely able to hold back in your presence. The pale man attempts to not take his anger out on you but he can't help it. The loose grasp he held on you,now tightening uncomfortably so. You attempt to pull away from him but his strength keeps you towards his chest.
"Lumi,you're hurting me!!" You don't sound upset,only panicked. You know the man isn't used to his strength,similar to a baby who just learned to walk. That snaps him out of it and he loosens his hold,blinking coyly as does so. "Apologies." He says. "It's okay just be gentle with me,I'm not like you. I can't take such force casually."
He nods thoughtfully,staring down at you with his empty doll like eyes. "Umm would you like to come inside? I'll make us some tea and then I'll even play with your hair too if you'd likeee." You say singsong. You didn't have to bribe Illumi with playing with his hair he would've came inside regardless—finding you and your home comforting. That's not even putting in account how much Illumi missed you.
"Okay." He agrees plainly. "Good!" You say happily,pulling him in.  The pair of you walk into your home,Illumi shutting and locking the door behind him. "Sorry for the mess...I've been a little sad since you know..." It angers Illumi that you missed them so much,that they made you hurt,that they had your attention. And what about him? Had you forgotten him since you weren't nursing him back to health anymore?
Illumi couldn't have you caring more about anyone besides him. Jealousy floods through his veins,that's he's far too angry to communicate. "You could sit down 'Lumi! I'll be in just a minute." You turn to walk to the kitchen only to be stopped by a strong grasp. You look down at Illumi's clasped hand around your wrist. "Lumi?" You voice,confused.
"Stay. I want you to sit with me." His request is void of emotion,sounding like a reading of a poor script but you know better than that. You know he's missed you but can't express it in the proper way. "Okay,whatever you want Illumi." You smile at him,kind and in the gummy way he often thinks about.
The stoic man ends up sitting in between your thighs,the position being decided on the offer of playing with his hair which you're happily doing. You hum as you do so,fingers running in the silky follicles. Your talk mostly about what you've been up to,deciding to leave Hisoka and Chrollo out of it after you dumped that information to the assassin earlier. Illumi only talks when you ask him a question about his life and it's always met with something vague that you don't mind at all.
Your meaty fingers start to work on a small braid  in his hair but your fingers stutter when Illumi asks a odd question. "Did you enjoy it when Chrollo and Hisoka touched you like that?" The silence is deafening and you swear you could feel yourself swallow your lax tongue. " Lumi why would you want to know that?"
"Answer." He demands. You sigh,feeling ashamed of your answer,"Yes." At this point your hands have let go of the man's hair,finding refuge in your lap where they twiddle with other fingers. "Would you enjoy it if I touched you like that?" The question sounds innocent but the implication of what he's asking sinks into you.
"Illumi I don't think you know what you're saying..." You mutter shyly. "I do,I know of sexual intercourse and I know that's something I'd like to do with only you." Heat rushes up your body,his blunt words absorbing in your mind.  "Illumi...I don't know what to say."
"Say you'd like to have sex with me too. I plan to make you my betrothed,to make you the mother of future heirs. I'd take care of you and bed you every night."  One thing you missed about Illumi was his curt honesty but his multiple confessions were too much to handle right now. "Lumi are you okay? This is all so sud—"
Your breath catches in your throat when Illumi turns back out his dull eyes starring into yours and at this moment you realize how grave this situation is. Illumi's not one for sarcasm or for doing things without cause. You know he means every word he said.
"I am fine,I just want to make you mine and breed you already. Marry me (Reader)." Your eyes go wide and your mouth flacks open. This is just too much too process! Only thirty minutes ago you were wallowing in sadness and desperation and presently you just got offered a marriage proposal. 
"Illumi I can't just give an answer right now...I do care for you a lot and—" Illumi asks a pointed question,"Do you love me?" Do you love Illumi? You think of him often,you call him all the time,you connect with him. He has a special place in your heart as the quiet man you saved so long ago..so yes,you do love Illumi.
"Yes I do but I can't just marry you so soon.You haven't even asked to be my boyfriend yet,let alone a husband." You say gently. Illumi looks confused,"Why not? Do you need convincing?" Your brows raise in curiosity,what type of convincing could change your mind about out of the blue engagement?
Illumi answer that question the moment he pounces on your dry lips,his desperate tongue moistening the skin as he begs for entrance inside. Due to shock you accidentally give him an opening and he takes it instantly. You feel bad for your stinky breath that most likely tastes like junk food but Illumi doesn't seem to care as he grips your chubby face in his hands.
He pulls away and searches your eyes for an answer, a clue on how you feel about his actions."I want to fuck you. I want to claim you so no other man like Chrollo and Hisoka can ever say they've been inside you. I want you now. Let me take you please."
Maybe the hungry kiss drove your brain to mush? Maybe the need for comfort kicked in at it's ultimate form? Or maybe it was the pool of slick that built up in your plain cotton panties—that convinced you to say yes.�� The second the man gets your agreement,you're forced to lay flat on your back,legs spread and your t-shirt raised to your braless chest.
Illumi slots himself in between your thighs,his cool and slender hands running up and your textured legs. Your brain scolds yourself for not shaving the limbs,you feel the need to apologize for being so hairy but you're stopped by Illumi's vague praise. "So soft. You feel good."
Illumi's hands travel higher to your inner thigh gripping the excess fat that adorns it. His grasp is bruising and stings in a way but it feels pleasant at the same time. Black eyes stare straight at your mound,locked in on the wet spot produced by slick. He moves with quickness to slide off his loosely fitting pants leaving him in his briefs that are fighting to constrain his hard length.
Pale hands pull your form closer to him—his bulge now flush with your cunt. Your legs rest on his shoulders while he experimentally thrusts his hips. He languidly moves back and forth against the warmth of your cunt. You begin to unsteadily breath as the tip of dick makes contact with your clit, a faint keen fleeing from your mouth. Squeaks here and there come from you,on the other hand your counterpart is being completely silent.
The only way you could tell Illumi is finding the friction pleasurable is his oozing tip dripping pre-cum. It feels slightly embarrassing to you that you're the only one crying out from stimulation especially because that's one of the few sounds you can hear besides the sounds of chaffing fabric. You want to hear Illumi feeling good too—the solo of your sexual noises not being good enough any longer.
Your hands gently reach for the roots of his hair and ever so slightly tug—the man groans quietly but you could still hear it. But similar to the silence of the room—rubbing crotches isn't enough anymore. "Closer 'Lumi,wanna feel you." The man wordlessly curves you body into a U shape,your hips being arched and your lower body resting on his muscular chest. He slides off your panties and places you down on your back.
"Spread." He directs.  You obey and spread your legs hesitantly,still shy of being unshaven. Illumi seems irritated of the slow pace and just grabs your inners thighs flat onto the couch. You gasp,finally feeling the cool air on your spread slit.  You could feel his hold on your thighs bring the beginning throbbing of bruises staring to form—the sharp pain making your brain dizzy.
"Not so rough 'Lumi..." you warn. He seems to pay you no mind and instead you could feel the grasp tighten. Something hazes his usual empty eyes—lust dominating him and distracting him. Illumi pulls out his bobbing cock—resting his pants underneath his full balls to keep them from interfering.
You're left scared for a few minutes...wondering if this is the very scary second you'll lose your virginity. But instead you're shocked when Illumi's smart fingers squish your fat lips together and slowly so very slowly place his cock in between the moist lips.
The man in between thrusts with a animalistic groan the comes from deep in his covered chest. His cock is warm and it gets even warmer the more frequent his thrusts rub against you cunt. The tip of his cock gently prods and pokes at your clit,making you arch up and whine airily.
" Lumi...!!" You moan. The man looks down at you as he pistons his hips between the fleshy folds—his doll like eyes staring straight into your soul. "You feel,"a low grunt cuts him off,"so good." His thin brows knit together as he admires the sight of his cock sliding in and out of your lips—he groans heartily,enjoying the sight.
There's a crude ring that loudly can be heard throughout the room. Illumi stops his sharp thrusting and glares down at the device interrupting the moment he's been longing for such a long time. He reaches for the phone in his back pocket,answering with a hint of anger in his voice.
However after only a few seconds that anger seemingly melts away. You watch curiously as he seems very interested in whatever the other person on the line has to say. After a few more moments he hangs up and looks at you,"I'll be back,I have something to take care of." He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead—sliding your panties back up onto your spread legs.
"Wait! You can't just leave Illumi! What's so important you have to leave me?" You sound desperate and pouty—unintentionally making you cringe. There's silence before Illumi calmly says,"I have a match to the death." You can practically feel any color of your skin flee your body,"What?! Illumi no! Stay with me please! You can't leave me." It's silly to stop someone who practices in death to not do such a thing—you know that but desperation claws at your heart.
"Please Illumi,stay with me! We can get married and do whatever you'd like but please don't...you might die." Illumi raises a thin brow,"I won't. I'm doing this so I can stay with you. So one else can take your attention away from me." You look at a Illumi with pleading eyes—fat tears threatening to spill,"What do you mean 'Lumi?"
"Chrollo and Hisoka,they're trying to take you away from me. I have to fight them to have you." If the news of him wasn't heart wrenching enough—the information of his opponents being two other men you also hold dear to felt organ failing. You're silent and empty of any feeling for a good minute,your brain and heart so confused on what to feel—to do.
"You can't! Illumi you can't! Please,I'll only belong to you! Just don't go!" You grab onto his lax hand,bringing it to your shaking chest. "I have to. They'll take you away from me if I don't."
You peer at him,glassy eyes staring determinedly to come up with a way for all of them to live.
There had to be something—a solution to ease the pain of losing two of the men who's charmed their way into your life. It finally hits you—they could all share you! They could compromise something,a deal that would leave them satisfied and alive.
"You don't have to that Illumi. You could all share me...I'd still belong to you, just differently." Illumi frees his hand from your touch,"No. I don't want to share you. You belong to me."
You look at him pleadingly gripping his hand,"Please,'Lumi,I'll never be the same if all of you can't be in my life..please." Illumi liked you as you are—kind,gentle,loving and affectionate,so the promise of you not being the same woman he met almost a year ago disheartens him.
He remembers how you welcomed him into your home,constantly being at his side and treating him with so much worry. He couldn't bare to imagine to only have you as a shell of a woman he used to know—the thought being unbearable.
His doll eyes stare into your teary ones deciding that's it better to have a part of you than to have just a shell of what you used to be. "Okay." He hesitantly agrees.
He doesn't miss how you immediately brighten up—smiling widely and tackling him to the floor in a rejoicing hug. He wraps his arms around your round middle, hoping he didn't make the wrong choice.
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"Look at how many marks they left on you...I thought we would take your first time together but they're just barbaric with you,my dove." The voice purrs out. Long nails trail up your neck that's littered with different and shapes of marks.
"Oh shut up Hisoka, don't act like you don't mark her up." Chrollo hisses. "I'm not saying that but I'm lot more efficient than you. Look—,"Pale hands make work to lift up your pant less leg,showcasing the heart like mark the clown has made,"Isn't it just so much prettier than what you two have left on her?" 
"It doesn't matter the marks,she doesn't complain when my fingers are inside h—" You slap your hand over the assassins mouth," Illumi! You can't say things like that!" Thin brows furrow,"Why not?" You huff and sigh," Never mind 'Lumi."
"Illumi's right (Reader),you shouldn't be so shy about thing like that, at least with us. After all tonight's the night." Chrollo says.
That's right,this is the day that was agreed upon,the night the all fuck you,the night they strip you away of your virginity. A few months ago before this night happened it was equally agreed upon they'd all be present during first time and from then on they could fuck all they want when they have their turn with you. This was the only thing the loose binding holding the arrangement of sharing you,the only thing keeping them from getting rid of one another. You'd been so lost with the constant courting from the three men and the jealousy that's constantly paired with obsession that this agreed date had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly you could feel all the anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks.
The most intuitive of the three men seems to notice you visibly stiffening up. "Oh my love,don't be so scared. You'll just have to worry about being on your cocks and that's all you'll have to worry about,okay?" Chrollo comforts. "See? I'm gonna get you all ready and nice and wet for me—I mean us and then you'll be feeling too good to even care." Almost to cement his words Chrollo begins to suckle at your already bruised neck,making other marks. You whine and grip at him,already whimpering pathetically at the simple touch.
"I can't let you just hog her." Hisoka makes a move to slither himself in between your legs,forcing your sitting position to become a laying one. He easily slides of your panties to which you notice he puts in the pocket of his pants. He pulls you away from the Chrollo by grounding your lower half closer to his face. He practically smooches his face and your pussy against each other. You could and hear how he inhales your scent,how his fingers part the fat hairy lips to get a better whiff. He inhales the musky scent—moaning loudly when he can catch the natural musk of the wet organ.
"You smell so good,my dove! But I bet you taste even better.." As soon as said those words his tongue dives into the tight canal—a keen of shocked pleasure coming from you. "Mmm,you feel good,spider?" You nod but that's not the answer the man on top of you wants. He taps the fat of your hips and gives a firm grasp,"Use your words. You have such a pretty voice to answer me with."
"I feel good!" You say—already breathless with the stimulation. "Yeah,who's making you feel good?" You grips his shoulders tighter,"You are!" A hard slap comes to your cellulite ridden thigh,a reminder of the man that's so faithfully fucking your hole with his tongue,"And S-Soka!" The man in between with your thighs rewards you for your answer by moving up to suck your clit,replacing his tongue for fingers instead now.
Chrollo would've preferred you stuck with him only but he doesn't voice that,too distracted by the pebbling nipples underneath the ragged shirt. His hand moves to lift up the shirt and once he does he can't help but eat up the beauty before him. There you are,breasts slightly drooping,the natural weight of them hanging them lower and your hard nipples that are begging to be sucked on. But he can't forget the most supple part of you—your tummy that's constantly moving up due to your heavy breathing,that looks so grippable and plump—and oh my god the soft rolls between the layers of skin makes him want to just sink his fingers into the flesh while he's carefully thrusting into you.
"You're so beautiful,so pretty..." He runs his fingers across your skin,igniting goosebumps to flare up. He bends down to suckle on your breast,you could feel the slight bites and pulls he does with his mouth which has you arching and begging for more. Suddenly another grip is felt and you turn to see an all too focused Illumi,massaging and groping the fat. You almost forgot about his presence due to his lack of talking and action.
He leans down to bring your lips into a feverish kiss. With each lick of Hisoka's tongue,with Chrollo's comforting sucking on breast and Illumi's hungry touch and kiss you find yourself jerking away from their touch. Jumping and flinching away from any affection,the feeling of an orgasm being too strong to handle. But three strong men hands stop you from moving away from the pleasure,forcing you to feel every wave and earthquake that comes crashing down onto your body.
You stay panting open mouthed into Illumi's, body shaking and trying to recover. Chrollo finally pops off your boob,a small smile painting his dark features. "You did so good. So,so,so good." Hisoka arises from your thighs,"Mmh and you tastes so good too." He rubs your unshaven legs,squeezing and gripping the flesh harshly as he does so. He licks the sheeny slick off your lips,making your turn away from the lewd sight.
"Do you think one orgasm has helped you eased up a little?" Chrollo asks. You're about to nod but you remember his words a few minutes and instead opt for verbally answering,"Yes,I can handle everything now."
Chrollo and Hisoka stare at Illumi,warningly. "We're letting you be in her first because you're a virgin too but if you can't control yourself we won't hesitate to hurt you." Chrollo spits out with venom. "And here," Hisoka tosses a colorful green condom his way,"put this on before you fuck her. You won't be breeding her anytime soon." Illumi catches the colorful item and looks at it in disdain,much preferring to fill you with his kids instead. He doesn't resist though and snuggly slides on the protection. You find it intimidating how you're the only one really showing the most skin,Illumi just having his cock out of his pants and Chrollo and Hisoka still relatively clothed as well.
The male walks to your spread legs,his cool hands making sure to spread them even farther for better access. He slots himself between them and places his upper half to partly lean against yours, chest flush with yours. He cradles your face in his single hand and very slowly begins to slide into you.
Your moans and his slight gasps pair together before he's fully in. You felt your self shape and stretch to accommodate the length inserted. "Oh...'Lumi." Your meaty hands reach for his back,slotting the fingers into the muscles on it. He begins an unsure thrust,still trying to get used to the warmth and wetness he could still feel even with the condom. But once he gets the momentum he's practically ramming into,forcing you to call and moan for him,the hands on his back scratching at it.
The motions of the hands stop though because Chrollo reaches for it,bringing it low to touch his now free and throbbing cock. He looks at you expectantly,hunger and desire eating up his charcoal eyes. You wrap an unsure hand around the length,going up and down at a even pace. "Fuck...just like that (Reader). Doing so good." He praises.
You're met with another hungry man,begging for much needed attention. Hisoka's hand turns your face towards your him, a throbbing pink tip being only near millimeters away from your lips. "Say ahh~" You expect him to place his cock in your mouth but instead a long line of saliva falls flat on your tongue. "Swallow it." You do and that's met with astounding praise,"Good girl! Now you deserve my dick." Hisoka slowly slides the the expanse of his dick inside your mouth.
You struggle to move your head but the man aids you by moving your head for you,a large hand bobbing your head up and down. “Mmf! You’re doing so good! Taking me so well!”
You feel yourself melting into the pleasure you’re receiving and giving. You feel comfortably void of any thought—the body taking over any type of consciousness. You don’t know how long you feel Illumi thrust into,making you see stars when he’s particularly rough—you know though that you cum with a muffled moan that vibrates against Hisoka’s cock.
It’s a domino effect it seems—Illumi cums soon after then Chrollo who spurts his cum on your hand and face,finally Hisoka cums in your throat—a slender hand rubbing against the pudge of your cheek,rewarding you for the hard work.
You slump against the bed,feeling like you can actually focus and breath again. “ ‘m tired.” You mumble against Hisoka’s smooth thigh. “No no,that just won’t do. You’re not done yet.” Hisoka purrs. You sit up,”What do you mean?” Chrollo wipes off his cum that’s partially splattered on your forehead and other cheek,bringing his hand to your lips to clean him up. You do while he says something that makes your tired body prepared again,”We want more. We want to feel you more.”
Illumi shows how serious those words are by his flaccid cock getting hard inside again. “It’s my turn to be in her Illumi,don’t be greedy.” Hisoka says. “I get to have her mouth.” Chrollo says happily,already caressing your puffy lips.
For the rest of the night they use you as a unit—abusing every hole they can get their greedy cock in. Working as a group for their own selfish reason—you.
REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED🫶🏽🫶🏽!! TYSM FOR READING!
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hazbinwhoree · 10 months ago
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OMG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN U DO A
yandere adam x reader x yandere lucifer
like basically durning the last extermination adam sees the sinner and basically fall heads over wings for them
and yk durning the heaven meeting he made a globe to watch angel dust i feel like he makes that globe thing to watch the reader see how there doing and sees that lucifer is too close to them
i feel like he would try to do anything to get them into heaven with him and far away from lucifer be he already took his first wife and maybe his second and he doesn’t want him to take his third wife
(SORRY IF ITS LONG)
The Third Wife
Part 1/2 Part 2
Yandere!Adam x Reader x Yandere!Lucifer
A/N: I had fun writing this but I don’t plan on a part 2 because I don’t know where to take it from here. I hope you enjoy!
Lucifer had taken Lilith, and Eve, and now he was going to take (Name). He met her first, it wasn’t fair Adam was trying to steal her. (Name) was a human on Earth who had summoned Lucifer a few months back to strike a deal. Lucifer found her adorable and endearing and found himself slowly catching feelings. He planned to convince her to join him in Hell.
Adam had Lilith stolen from him by Lucifer. Then Eve. He’d be damned if he lost (Name) too.
He first met (Name) during an extermination, (she had died and reincarnated as a sinner) and to his own surprise, he fell hard. He became obsessive, spending most of his free time in Heaven holed up in his room watching (Name) through his globe. He had to make sure she and Lucifer weren’t getting too close while he tried to figure out how to get (Name) into Heaven.
To Adam’s dismay, (Name) joined the princess’ stupid hotel. That meant more time spent with Lucifer. Adam couldn’t let that happen. The more he watched, the more possessive Lucifer began to act over (Name). It infuriated Adam. He came to the conclusion there was only one way to get (Name) away from Lucifer to be with him.
He was going to approve of Miss Sunshine and Rainbows’ Hazbin Hotel.
Lute was appalled when he told her. “But why, sir?” “None of your fucking business,” Adam snapped. “Tell the bitch princess I want another meeting.”
Adam actually came to Hell to meet with Charlie.
“So…” Charlie looked skeptical. “What’s this about? I thought you were too good to come to Hell outside of the extermination.”
“I’m giving your stupid little hotel the green light.”
“What?” Both Charlie and Vaggie’s jaws dropped.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t shit your panties.”
“Why the sudden change of heart?” Vaggie asked suspiciously.
“Doesn’t matter. You gonna give me a tour so I know what I’m agreeing to?”
Charlie wasn’t nearly as suspicious as Vaggie. “Of course!” She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come with us!”
When they entered Hazbin Hotel, all the residents stopped what they were doing to stare. Adam made eye contact with (Name). She was the only one who mattered.
“What is he doing here?” The porn demon asked.
Charlie linked her arm through Adam’s and he tried not to grimace. “Adam has agreed to the Hazbin Hotel! We’re giving him a tour!” The residents looked skeptical. Except for (Name), who smiled and waved at him. His heart fluttered.
Charlie dragged Adam around the hotel, talking his ear off and introducing him to different residents and discussing their progress. When she got to (Name), Adam cut her off. “We’ve met.”
“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Good!”
“Charlie–” a voice sounded from down the hallway. Lucifer had rounded the corner, calling his daughter’s name, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Adam. “What the fuck.”
“Dad!” Charlie tugged Adam over to him. “Adam said yes to the hotel!” “Did he now?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Adam. Adam narrowed his back. The energy was palpable as they stared one another down. “Your change of heart wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with (Name), would it?”
Adam smirked and answered with silence. Lucifer was fuming. “Alllright… that’s enough of that. I’ll talk to you later, Dad!” Charlie broke them up, leading Adam back to the lobby.
At the door, far enough from any nosey ears, Adam stopped Charlie. “The agreement comes with a stipulation, princess.” Charlie’s face fell. “Relax, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. If sinners are cleansing their souls and coming to Heaven, I want (Name) to be the first.” Charlie looked relieved. “Deal!” They shook on it.
When Adam left, Lucifer approached his daughter. “You can’t trust him, Charlie, he definitely has ulterior motives.” “He only had one stipulation,” Charlie smiled. “(Name) is to be the first sinner redeemed!” “What?”
Lucifer was furious. He knew Adam had been up to something.
“Tell me you didn’t agree, Charlie.”
Charlie looked confused. “I did… why wouldn’t I? (Name) is here to be redeemed, who cares about the order?”
“I care! Because I was going to convince her to stay in Hell!”
Charlie was surprised. “What, why?”
But Lucifer was already storming away. He stormed straight to (Name)’s room and banged on the door. She answered it, and as soon as she did, Lucifer pushed his way into the room and shut the door.
“Well, hello to you too,” (Name) said sarcastically.
“I want you to stay in Hell.”
“What?”
“I want you to stay in Hell,” Lucifer repeated. “Why?” (Name) asked. “Because I’m in love with you!”
(Name)’s mouth fell open, moving as she tried to form words, but nothing came out.
Lucifer took her hands in his. “Please. Say something.”
“Lucifer that’s… that’s a lot. I care about you, a lot, I do, but I want to go to Heaven. My quality of life down here is shit, and you can’t change that.”
“But I can!” Lucifer insisted. “Be mine and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”
“I’m sorry,” (Name) said, looking sympathetic. “I want Heaven.”
Lucifer continued to try to get her to change her mind over the next month as she worked to be redeemed, but before he knew it, her soul was cleansed and Heaven was ready to take her.
Adam was of course the first to greet her, a massive grin on his face. “Welcome to Heaven, babe! Congrats on getting out of that shithole. Let me show you around.” He offered her his hand, and his face warmed under his mask when she took it without hesitation. He had won.
Lucifer was scheming, no doubt, but for now, Adam had won.
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eiightysixbaby · 5 months ago
Text
sweet cream
steve harrington x fem!reader
cw: oral f receiving, use of pet names
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“Steve,” you sigh, letting your head fall back and rest against the wall behind you.
A head of honey brown hair is nestled between your parted thighs, your legs spread wide with your feet propped on broad shoulders.
Steve rests on his knees before you, your bare ass pressed to the wood top of the computer desk. Your shorts and underwear lay in a heap on the floor of the cramped room, Steve having discarded them the second he'd gotten you alone.
It was innocent enough, you dropping by to see him at work. It was awfully hot out, and he was always happy to sneak you some free ice cream. It's just that today you strolled in wearing your tiniest shorts, high-waisted and tight enough to hug the curves of your ass in the most tempting way. And your tight little tube top had your tits on perfect display, leaving your boyfriend unable to keep his eyes or his hands off of you.
He ended up bribing Robin with free rides anywhere she needed for a week, just for twenty minutes in the back storage closet alone with you.
And god bless her for allowing it, really, because the way his tongue laps at your cunt has you reeling. Your fingers tangle in his soft locks, making him moan when you pull at them, his strong hands gripping the meat of your thighs.
He pauses for a moment, stealing a glance up at you. His face is flushed, his eyes big and wide, in awe of you. His pretty pink lips are parted just slightly, his hair askew.
“So fucking pretty, baby. She’s so fucking pretty,” he says, pressing kisses to your clit before letting his tongue lave over you once more. “Taste so damn sweet.”
He flattens the wet muscle against your folds, eagerly lapping up all of the arousal that leaks from you. He looks stupidly beautiful, the bright blue of his work uniform complimenting his sun-tanned skin.
You inhale sharply when he pulls your clit between his lips and sucks, releasing it after a moment to flick his tongue back and forth over it.
“Oh, god,” you moan, high-pitched and breathy.
“Feel good?” he asks, hot breath fanning over your pussy, sending a chill throughout you.
“Yes, Steve. Fuckdontstop—”
An airy, smug laugh leaves him at your pleas, satisfied with himself.
Every swipe of his tongue has you teetering closer and closer to the edge, his mouth making a complete mess of you. You can feel his saliva dripping down to your ass as he desperately licks at you, slurping and kissing and sucking.
“Come on, honey. Know you can cum for me, c’mon,” he rasps, maintaining a steady pace on your sensitive bud.
“Shit shit shit,” you cry, eyes pinched shut and brows furrowing as your orgasm washes over you. Your cunt tightens around nothing, walls spasming as his relentless mouth teases your clit until you feel numb.
He draws back, his lips and chin drenched with your honey. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe his face clean before you’re tugging him close to kiss you. He smiles against your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours. The taste of yourself on him sends new waves of want straight to your core, wishing you had more time—
There’s a banging on the door, and both of you turn towards it.
“Okay, lovebirds, whatever you’re doing in there I reeeally need you to wrap it up!” Robin’s frantic voice calls. “There’s a line out the door and I cannot sling ice cream that quickly! I’m serious, Harrington, right now or it’s gonna be free rides for a month!”
You can’t help but blush, Steve’s head hung as he laughs. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and finally your lips before he’s standing up and pulling you with him. You retrieve his hat from the desk, fixing his hair before putting it on him. The blue stitched letters that spell out AHOY making you giggle to yourself.
“When I get off work,” he murmurs, holding your waist and pulling you against him, “I’m coming straight to your house.” His nose brushes your temple. “If I’m gross and sweaty and covered in ice cream you’ll just have to deal with it, cause I can’t wait to be inside you,” he says with a smirk, his lips against your cheek.
You smile, palms pressing flat against his chest. “Fine with me,” you press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be waiting, sailor.”
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scarlethexelove · 4 months ago
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hey sydney
big fan here. Your last works were HOT like HOOOOOOT so I would love to read reader riding Agatha magic strap for first time 
There's A First Time For Everything
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Pairings: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word Count: 1401
Warnings: Smut, Enchanted Strap-on, Blowjob, Riding, Pet names, Pretty soft, Innocent!Reader, Squirting Strap-on, I can't think of what else.
A/n: I hope you enjoy this. I combined two asks since they were pretty similar and could be incorporated into this one fic. Hopefully it isn't as shitty as I feel like it turned out to be.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
You look up through hooded eyes. Your hands planted firmly on your bare thighs, sat on your knees looking up at the older woman. Her body is naked except for the purple strap-on secured around her waist. It bounces in front of your face. It looks so inviting. You want to taste it but you also desperately want it inside of you. The thought alone makes your arousal drip out of you smearing against your thighs. 
“Go on sweetheart.” Agatha encourages you. Your doe eyes meeting her blown pupils. Having you in this position looking up at her with such innocent eyes drives her wild. This is all so new to you. Perfect for her to mold you into the perfect little pet. So willing and eager to please her. You shuffle on your knees forward, your lips almost touching the tip. You look up at her questioningly and she gives you a nod. Your eyes moving back down and focusing on the strap. Your tongue reaches out and gives it an experimental lick. Agatha groans at the action. 
Agatha’s fingers thread through your hair as she pulls you closer. “Fuck princess you can do it.” You don’t want to disappoint her so you wrap your lips around the tip and give it a suck. Agatha lets out a loud moan as her grip tightens in your hair. You swirl your tongue lightly around the tip as your eyes meet hers once again. It has hit you yet until she starts to slowly thrust into your mouth. Her chest heaves as she pants, small moans falling from her lips. She has enchanted the strap and can feel everything. Your warm and wet mouth welcoming her strap. 
You start to bob your head to take more of Agatha in your mouth. She is trying so hard to not grab both sides of your head and start to roughly fuck your throat. She wants to train you first, you're still so innocent she can’t break you before she even has the chance to start. So she lets you take some of the lead. You gag on her length as you continue to take more of her in your mouth. Your gags eliciting another moan from the woman. 
“Fuck princess.” Agatha moans louder. Your throat feels so good around her. Her hips twitch as she gets closer. The burn in your scalp increases as her grip tightens. She so desperately wants to cum down your throat and she is so close but she doesn’t. Instead she pulls you off her, which causes you to cough and sputter, catching your breath. You're both panting heavily. Agatha pulls you to your feet, her hand on your cheek as you look into her eyes. “I want to fill you up princess. I want you leaking.” She murmurs before kissing you deeply. 
Agatha’s free hand grips your hip tightly pulling you as close as possible. You can feel her strap nudging at your folds between your bodies. “You’re going to ride me.” She mumbles against your lips. You pull back, giving her a bewildered look. “A-Aggie I’ve ne-never.” Agatha gives you a smile. “Don’t worry sweetheart it’s going to feel so good.” You look down, taking a moment to think about it before giving a small nod. Her finger hooks under your chin making you look up at her. “What was that princess?” She knows you didn’t say anything but she wants to hear you. “Okay Aggie.” She pecks your lips. “Good girl.” 
Agatha moves to the bed positioning herself in the center of the large bed, pillows stacked behind her like a throne as she leans back. Her strong and powerful demeanor draws you in. She beckons for you to come over. The ache between your legs has you moving quickly as you climb on the bed. She can see how your arousal has smeared on your legs. “Aww did you get all needy just by sucking me off.” Your face flushes at her words. You bow your head as you nod lightly. “Yes.” You whisper. “Let me help you fix that ickiness princess.” Agatha reaches out for you pulling you to where you are now straddling her lap and hovering over her strap. 
Your hips are guided down by Agatha as she lines her strap up with your dripping entrance. The head presses against your entrance before Agatha pulls you down. Her strap is buried inside of you in one fell swoop. Your hands fly to her shoulders as you moan out at the sudden fullness. Agatha’s head falls back as your warm wet walls swallow her whole. She now knows there is nothing better than the feeling of being buried inside of you. “Fuck your pussy feels amazing. I should have done this a long time ago.” Agatha groans her hands on your hips as her hips twitch in anticipation. “So full.” You groan. 
Agatha looks at you expectedly. She wants you to figure it out on your own for you to experiment with riding her.  She gives you a little thrust to encourage your movements. You slowly get the hint when she barely moves. With a roll of your hips you can feel as the strap shifts inside you. As you roll your hips more and see how Agatha's chest heaves at your movements, you become a little more confident. 
You lift your hips up before dropping back down in her lap. This has a moan falling from both of your lips at the action. This urges you to keep going, picking up your pace as you start to bounce in the woman's lap. Her fingers digging into your hips. Her eyes move to focus on your bouncing breast. “So beautiful and all mine.” She leans up and attaches her lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the skin leaving marks behind that you will surely find later. 
Moans bounce off the walls as you continue to bounce in Agatha’s lap. Agatha plants her feet on the bed and starts to thrust up into you allowing you to perfectly roll your hips into her. The strap hitting inside of you perfectly with each thrust. “S-So good.” Your head falls back as Agatha continues to leave marks across your neck and chest. She wraps her arms around your waist holding you close to her body. Both of you become perfectly in sync with one another as your bodies move together. Pushing you closer to your release. 
Your walls pulse around Agatha’s cock the closer you draw to the edge. Agatha’s hips twitch and stutter as your walls keep sucking her back in. “Fuck gonna fill you so good. So fucking perfect.” Agatha mumbles against your skin. You moan to the point of almost screaming at a particularly hard thrust. Your walls clamp down hard around Agatha, the coil unraveling. You silently scream as you drive your hips down, cumming hard and coating Agatha’s strap. As your walls pulse and suck her in Agatha thrusts a few more times before releasing inside of you. You gasp as you feel her sticky white cum painting your walls. The sensation sends smaller aftershocks of your orgasm through your body making you tremble in her hold. 
You're both panting as you desperately hold onto one another. Your head falls on Agatha’s shoulder as she gently kisses the side of your head. “You did so good for me princess.” She whispers reassuringly in your ear as you both come down from your highs. Your eyes are closed as you bask in the fuzziness of your post orgasmic haze. “Did you enjoy that sweetheart?” Agatha questions you softly as she strokes your back. You hum happily and nuzzle into her neck for comfort. She chuckles at how adorable you are. “See that wasn’t so bad was it?” You shake your head. “No.” You mumble placing light kisses on the side of her neck. “I can tell how much you loved me filling you up.” Agatha nibbles at your ear causing you to whine and blush. 
The room as silent as you both let the calmness wash over you. Still in the same position comfortable with the closeness that you both feel. “I love you princess.” Agatha says quietly in the silence. “I love you too, Aggie.” You mumble sleepily. Agatha hugs you that much closer with love and new understandings.
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rememberwren · 5 months ago
Text
A Dichotomy of Thought || 6
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Johnny and Simon argue.
CW: mentions of dub con/non con; domestic abuse; ableist slurs
-
Just when you settle in at your job he starts showing up at the diner to terrorize you, like an illness you cannot shake or a cloud you cannot outrun. Maybe he knows that that’s where you’re hiding your phone.
Maybe he knows that you have almost two thousand dollars stashed in your locker in the break room.
Either way, there is no rhyme or reason to his visits. He sets a pattern (once a week) and then breaks it, coming two days in a row, and then doesn’t visit for a whole month, until you are constantly off balance, always dreading the sound of the bell over the door.
Today when he comes, he seats himself at the bar where you are required to talk to him. He watches you work, delighting in the way your hands shake while you pour his coffee. You’ve never met someone who feeds off of fear like this, who gorges themselves on your flinches and trembling.
You think about shattering the coffee pot and taking one of the shards to his throat. You long to slit open his bloated belly and steal back all the feeling he has stolen from you. But you are useless, neutered by the fear that still remains, the fear yet to be eaten. One day…
“This one’s new,” he says, nodding to the new girl: young, with hair in a glossy, gleaming braid over her shoulder.
You tell him her name. How long she’s been working there now. That she’s nice. He hums, filing all the knowledge away in his head and dubbing it all useless by remarking, “Pretty.”
Your hand clenches into a tight fist around the rag you are using to wash down the bar. You don’t know why that bothers you. He hasn’t called you pretty since the early days when he was still trying to win you out from under your family’s thumb—like you wouldn’t have gone anywhere with anyone to be free of them, at the time (You’d had no idea that there were worse creatures out there than the ones who raised you). Maybe there’s some sick part of you that still wants to be wanted by him, that still wants to be pretty.
“Where’s Jackie?” he asks. Then, just to make your head spin: “You’ve been texting her more lately.”
Your skin flushes hot and then cold. You want to ask how he knows that, how he knows at all about the contact in your phone you named JACKIE when you keep your phone in your storage locker at work at all times, charging it in the breakroom, never to bring it home.
You hadn’t been stupid enough to save Simon’s number under his own name. No, God might not have given you enough sense to fill a teacup, but He gave you enough to fill a thimble. You just had to hope that would be enough. You had to hope that you could pull Jackie aside the next time you were both working together and that she would be willing to cover for you, should your boyfriend ask her about your ‘texts’. You hated bringing anyone else into the network of your own lies, but wrote it off as a necessary pain.
“It’s her day off,” you tell him.
He hums, doubtful.
The bell over the door rings.
Johnny looks thin and tired, arm crutch in place as Simon holds the door open for him. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a t-shirt and shorts which show the surgical scars at his knee, vivid purple lines in the fluorescent lights of the diner.
Simon spots you first, and a peculiar look comes over his face, one that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t see because you would have no way to explain it. You wouldn’t call it fondness, but it’s one of recognition certainly, a deeper understanding than you can just pass off as having run into each other a few times in the building.
Johnny sees you next and his face brightens. The strangest thought comes to you: I have made a friend. Then his eyes naturally flicker to your boyfriend, and his entire demeanor transforms—into one of such strange, dark, poignant delight, as if he and your boyfriend are old pals who have run into each other after years apart.
It makes your stomach turn over, and you don’t know why.
You’ve been silent too long. Your boyfriend has noticed, his head turning to take in the new patrons. He asks, voice mild and amused: “You know them?”
“They’re our neighbors. 5C.”
He sits up straighter. “No shit? That’s the cripple you almost killed?”
“He’s not a cripple,” you mutter.
“Sure looks like one from here.” Your boyfriend gives a little salute in greeting.
Johnny makes a beeline for the bar, crutch thudding rhythmically against the tiled floor with every purposeful step. He sits in the seat beside your boyfriend, removing his arm crutch and shifting it to rest on his other side against the edge of the bar. Simon reaches out and adjusts it to keep it from sliding over.
Simon slips into the seat beside him, quiet and solemn, looking like a man braced for bad news.
“Hey there, neighbor. Sorry about all that mess in the parking lot the other day,” your boyfriend says. He jerks a thumb toward you. “She never should have been behind the wheel if we’re being honest.”
“Then why the hell was she?” Johnny wonders, accent thicker than usual, rough. His tone is mild, but the grin pinned on his face is like a wolf’s: hungry for blood. Dangerous. It is so at odds with his happy demeanor that it makes goosebumps rise on your arms. For the first time since you’ve met him, Johnny frightens you.
Your boyfriend is no idiot. He senses the thinly veiled malevolence beneath Johnny’s words but doesn’t understand it (and neither do you). Maybe Johnny really is still upset about almost getting squished like a bug beneath your car, but in that case, his anger at your boyfriend is misplaced. You turn away, grabbing two empty mugs, shoulders tensing. Waiting for all that anger to find somewhere to go.
Your boyfriend shifts on his seat, sighing through his nose a little. He doesn’t like to admit this. “I had some trouble a while back. Got my license revoked.”
Johnny coos, condescending and mean: “Bad luck.”
“Johnny,” Simon says, voice flat with a warning. You place the mugs down in front of him and Johnny, your hands shaking. Reaching for the coffee pot, you fill both their cups to the hallway mark, leaving room for sugar and cream. Some sloshes over the edge of Johnny’s cup.
“Stupid. Stupid,” you mutter, reaching for your rag to wipe it away. The three of them pay you no mind.
“We should have you over. I get a couple of close friends together on Saturdays and we play poker. You’re welcome to join us,” your boyfriend says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.
You blanch, rag dropping uselessly to the counter from your lax hand. The idea of Johnny and Simon being in your personal space, in the place where Bad Things Happen is a nightmare. Though you know they wouldn’t, (good people. They are good people), the thought of them taking place in Saturday poker rituals makes you feel sick. Fresh in your mind is your dream from the other night when you had ridden Simon until your boyfriend passed you on to someone new, and the thought of it becoming a reality is—it’s too much.
You leave your body.
“What do you think, baby?” he asks you, smiling. “Would you like to have them over? Would that be fun?”
“Yes,” your mouth answers numbly, because it has to.
“Then it’s settled. First deal is at noon and we play through the evening.”
“We’ll fucking be there,” Johnny says, words sounding adjacent to a threat.
Your boyfriend doesn’t stay long after that. Perhaps a part of him feels threatened by the presence of Simon, or perhaps he’s grown bored with tormenting you, but eventually he places money (your money. It’s your money. It’s your fucking money—) on the bar top and leaves, the bell ringing at his exit.
Johnny turns his blue eyes onto you. The wolf-like quality that had frightened you so much has fled, receded back into the man, no longer needed. But you know it is there. It’s in every man.
His voice is remarkably gentle when he asks you: “Lass, are you alright?”
“Yes,” your mouth says.
“You’re crying,” says Simon simply, reaching for a napkin to hand you. Your hand reaches for it numbly and uses it to pat at your face.
“It’s just something in my eye.” Your hands stuff the napkin in your apron and pull out your pad and pen, hand poised to write, eyes empty and unseeing. “What can I get for you?”
-
“He’s beatin’ her,'' Johnny says mildly. He waits until they are inside Simon’s car, stuck in traffic on the way back to the apartment. The heat is stifling, the AC not yet working after the time the car spent baking in the sunlight of the diner’s parking lot.
Simon reaches out and adjusts the knobs, turning them more toward himself. Johnny doesn’t like the cold much anymore, making Simon dread the thought of winter coming to the city, of snow. He can’t imagine what it will be like to be Johnny then, surrounded by ice all over again. Clearing his throat, he says: “I know.”
Johnny’s head snaps over to look at Simon, and the expression on his face is one akin to absolute betrayal. It’s the deepest of hurts, like Simon has reached out across the center console and slapped him. Johnny’s never given him that look in his entire life, and Simon could have gone the rest of his life without seeing it.
“You know. You know. And just what have you done to help her?”
“Help her?” Simon asks, bracing one elbow against the driver’s side door and massaging at his temples where a headache has been growing for the last two days. “How the hell do you want me to do that?”
“I can think of a few ways,” Johnny says darkly. “A few accidents that could happen to that cunt next door—”
“No,” Simon snaps. “Don’t even think about it, Johnny. Not only are you in no condition, but it’s fucking illegal.”
“So was half the shite we did in the name of Queen and Country,” Johnny hisses.
“We were following orders,” Simon says, hackles rising. “There’s a difference.”
“The difference is that now you’d have to use your own mind instead of letting someone else do the thinking fer you,” Johnny says, anger making him cruel.
Simon grits his teeth together. The car inches forward in traffic, and it takes all of his self control not to slam on the gas and rear end the car in front of him just to end this fucking conversation with Johnny.
He takes a deep breath through his nose, aiming for calm. He tries more sense, even if it feels like pushing a boulder uphill: “We have no resources to help her, and no idea that she even wants help.”
“Of course she wants help!” Johnny cries. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”
“Lots of reasons,” Simon says, thinking of his mother. What had been her reason for staying with his father for so long, for always being willing to open the door to him when he came knocking? Children. Money. Her religion. “You’re thinking of it in black and white but it isn’t. Nothing is.”
“Some things are. Some things are just wrong.” And then, voice laden with disappointment: “Yer a coward, Simon Riley.”
Simon feels these words in his chest, like Johnny has shaped them into a knife and jammed them between his ribs. Simon stares at the license plate in front of them until the numbers and letters blur together, until his eyes burn. His jaw aches from biting back so many hurtful things that he knows he could say, that he wants to say, just to hurt Johnny the way Johnny has hurt him.
But that’s just the imprint of his father on him, like a smudged thumbprint on the glass of his DNA. He’s a better man than that.
He knows it, even if Johnny doesn’t anymore.
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