#guess who had some time during working hours to reply...

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Only when Rabastan replied and let her know that it was a hotel the last time he had been there, Marlene moved her attention to him. And it was only then that she caught his studious look focused on her. It made her feel a little nervous, being the target of someone who was clearly focused on something in mind. Before she could say something, he looked down at the street below. Marlene hadn't even noticed that she had been holding her breath until that moment.

The woman looked at the street for a moment, before some movement besides her and so behind Rabastan caught her attention. "You said it was a hotel the last time right. I don't think said hotel had kitchens in their suites and also old angry French ladies who want to know how suddenly strangers appeared on her balcony?" she asked the other, her voice suddenly a bit small at the question. The one thing moving through her head was... Muggle or witch? What was the case with this woman? Disapparate or obliviate and then disapparate?

Rabastan had kept his eyes on her as she studied the landscape. His gaze etched her features, heavy and studious. It was an intensity that would not be easily ceased, for he was a man who did precisely what he wanted when he desired - at least, when he could get away with it. It was a pity that he had to tame his wishes, these days. It was infuriating.

As her smile emerged unhindered, his lips also curved in dark contentment. He congratulated himself on having solved their little dilemma; it was certainly a better environment and he was pleased to have removed the disappointment from her countenance. It had not been a suitable reaction. She should not have wanted to be near muggles. If she wanted to escape, there were better ways to do it.

"It was a hotel the last time I was here," he replied, with a nonchalance that conveyed that he would not care if it was - in fact - no longer a hotel. Placing both hands on the rail, he looked down onto the street below and watched as a few intoxicated witches struggled over the cobbles. "Shall we find somewhere to drink? Or do you still desire music and crowds?"

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 31. gangbangs

summary: a very self-indulgent chapter/pseudo-oneshot. **naoya’s ex-wife becomes toji’s girl. everybody wants a taste, and why not have the younger cousin watch the show?** alternatively, a gangbang with tattooed dilfs and dilf-adjacents.

chapter tags/warnings: five-some, gangbang, sex on tape, gun play (becoming a gun slut), cum play, breeding, creampies, exhibitionism, edging, degradation, praising, mentions of violence (murder, knives, guns), multiple orgasms.

word count: 5.5k

notes: happy kinktober and thank you for waiting! this started off as a concept (in my mind for a year-plus) and evolved into…a monster. too many men, too many hands, too many cocks. got lost in the sauce. despite being a smut chapter in a long fic, this update is borderline porn-without-plot. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“I love getting gangbanged."

Naoya woke up in a dark room and to a throbbing headache.

Where…?

He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings slowly, blinking past his grogginess to register what almost looked like a crime movie’s interrogation room and groaning when the wrong angle to his head caused a sharp pain in his shoulder.

All around was an ominous and gloomy shade of gray—the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and heck even the door. How long had he been out for? Without windows, he could not take a wild guess at the time. Not to mention that the room also had no lighting, no pictures, and no décor.

Only him and this...random dinky chair he found himself tied up to.

Wait.

Tied up to?

Right. From what Naoya could last recall, he had been stopped by two men who took him out with a single strike.

In a vain attempt to set himself free, Naoya tugged at his limbs which were fastened behind him with sturdy cords. He twisted and turned, then twisted harder and turned even harder, until an unexpected voice startled him.

“You’re awake.”

Naoya went still.

Having zero visual stimuli sharpened Naoya’s other senses a little. He could feel the labored huffs in his breathing, hear the heavy footsteps that began in the chamber, and even taste the smoke that lingered in the hazy air.

Leering towards the door, Naoya quickly recognized his captors as they approached.

"Don’t give us that foul look, sleepyhead," the taller one whom he remembered as Eso announced as he slowly stopped in front of the scowling blonde. He had on him a wide and nefarious grin. "You had passed out for the last few hours. During that time, you could've been beaten. Or better yet, dead." He glanced up. "Right, Kechizu?"

His accomplice, who stopped on the opposite side, replied with a firm nod. From seemingly nowhere, he had pulled out a pocket knife and grazed the icy blade against Naoya's neck. "Ya feel that? I've been wanting to slit your throat, but I haven't. Lucky, lucky duck. Not everyone is this fortunate. All because our big bro Choso is being super nice to you."

Aware that a wrong move would cost him a jugular vein, Naoya listened intently. Since he worked with the other sex therapists before, he indeed recalled how his former colleague led a tightly-knit assassin ring, in which the members deemed each other 'brothers.'

Kechizu prodded Naoya again with his blade. "Big bro's the only reason you're still alive. Although, I don't know why you'd want to still be breathing now that the whole world knows you've been bumping uglies with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Eso hummed in agreement. "Well, at least for now," he began and he gestured around in vague motions, “you're already in paradise!” Then, he paused. “Well, correction. Here is where we send people to paradise. Or, more likely, hell.”

Noticing how Naoya uncharacteristically froze, the two snickered. In fact, they likely would've continued snickering if not for a shrill tone that pierced the air. The laughter stopped.

Eso's charcoal eyes flicked downwards.

"Left pocket, Kechizu."

The other man obeyed, lowering his knife (and thus giving Naoya an actual chance to breathe) before grabbing the phone from Naoya's blazer. A notification lit up the screen—a message, from you.

“She sent a video.”

Eso and Kechizu intentionally held the screen away, and their face quickly lit up with a sinister smile when they previewed the file. “Oh, yeah. Let's watch.”

“Come join us, sweetheart.”

You thought you were discreet.

Lingering at the doorway, you had been peering into the Zenin Corporation’s CEO Suite like a lost duck. This past afternoon, news about the leadership changes within Japan’s largest conglomerate had spread like wildfire across business and politics networks across the globe, announcing that Naoya Zenin had been forced to resign with Toji Fushiguro reclaiming his position as head of the company.

For the latter, you had questions—many questions. However, an inundated Toji was difficult to approach as he spent his entire afternoon in the office with his also-reinstated directors Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. From your observations, the men had been milling around the table, speaking to each other in hushed but decisive voices in conversations that must remind them of their days managing the Zenin Corporation before Naoya’s takeover.

They all appeared ridiculously handsome with their expensive custom-tailored suits that emphasized their muscular physiques and complemented their towering heights. Surrounded by legal documents and business reports, they carried themselves differently, too. More mature, organized, and serious, especially after hectic meetings with the Chairman Naobito Zenin, your COO father, and internal and external stakeholders had left etches on their calculating faces.

Now, however, Toji Fushiguro had caught sight of your quivering form at the entrance, and soon enough, all eyes turned to you. When you didn’t respond to his first invitation, the executive approached you in confident strides.

“Why do you look so shy?”

At the unanticipated attention, you averted your gaze onto the floor and tried to slink away into the hall slowly. “You all seemed occupied, and I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You're not interrupting anything," he clarified. "We have some time now.”

He tugged your wrist softly, which was all that you needed to follow him like a fawn into the room and crumble onto his lap once he sat down. Despite his dress pants, the warmth from his thighs heated your skin, and Toji nuzzled his face into your neck. His gravelly huffs sounded like all the other times you had heard him rasp, moments followed by endless endearment.

"About Naoya," the older man brought up from seemingly nowhere. You tensed at the name while Toji's cordial lips assuaged you. "Choso’s brothers are making sure he’s not going to do anything funny. We can't have him around as we are transitioning the company. As for you...knowing my cousin, he's going to keep claiming you as his property unless you get through his dense head," and his viridescent pupils flicked upward, "and the only way to do that is to show him.”

Although you didn’t know exactly what he meant, Toji hoisted you in one fluid motion onto his desk and sprawled you across the surface. He pushed your thighs apart, prompting sharp breaths that echoed in the room as onlookers raked their eyes down your figure. Some (namely, Sukuna and Geto) peered down shamelessly, while others (just Choso, really) tried to come off as cool and observed quietly. Nonetheless, the message in their perverted gazes was clear: what they wouldn't give to kiss you, bite you, and mark you right then and there.

Just as you shrank a little from the overwhelming attention, Toji reached for your phone and pressed the device firmly into your palm.

“Let’s send him a message.” Toji’s eyes locked onto yours, unflinching and sharp.

You blinked, raising an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Leaning forward, Toji offered a clear view of the ink scrolling down his neck, his exhales warm against the beading cold sweat on your forehead. “Open up the camera. Let's send Naoya Zenin a surprise.” He gently pinched you. "Like I said, that idiot wouldn't understand shit unless you slam the idea into his dumb skull.”

You hesitated, glancing down at the phone in your hand.

“A photo won't be enough, by the way. We need a video. He won't get the fucking idea unless he sees and hears the proof.” When you complied, Toji turned to the colleague closest to him. "Wanna do the honors, Suguru?"

The said man came forward eagerly, the obsidian in his eyes sparkling. "'No' is never my answer to you, sir." Given your compromising position, he had the easy option to tear your lacy panties and stuff himself into your core except he wanted to take his time.

"I heard a lot about you." His compliments were all purrs that sent hot shivers shooting through your veins. "Mind if I take a go at you, too?"

After being passed between his three other colleagues, you must admit that you had at least thought about what sex with Geto was like, too. "Please."

At the permission, the man smiled and bunched your underwear to one side. The cold air hitting your drenched cunt made you shiver, but the collective groan in the room rumbled even louder, a reminder of the many men around you. Men who were being patient for you. Men who could not stop thinking about you. Men who, because of your ex-husband, had been holding grudges against you.

Geto pulled down his boxers just until the waistband fitted snugly under his balls. His cock stood proud with precum dribbling down his length as he positioned himself in the comfy spot between your thighs. He pressed against the table until his knuckles turned white, aligning himself with your entrance.

Without extra stimulation, your saturated folds welcomed him easily and you gasped loudly at the intrusion.

"Shit, you’re soaking," Geto sighed softly as you clenched around him, swarming his veins with gratification. He tipped his head forward, his loose strands framing his face. “Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He was so sweet, so kind. You nodded and hazily recognized that this was what making love was supposed to feel like: tender, gentle, and loving. This was Suguru Geto's charm.

Before you could say more, an opportunistic Sukuna took his place above you. He moved quickly, undoing his belt and tugging hastily at his trousers, humming loudly with relief when he pulled his pants down and his massive cock sprang free. Despite being jostled by another man, you swabbed at the bubbling precum before pushing your thumb into your mouth, relishing his clean and salty tinge on your tongue.

Amused, Sukuna chuckled darkly. "What a fucking tease," he crowed, then patting your cheek. "C'mon. Open up, baby. Let me get to the back of your throat."

With little resistance, he popped your jaw open and sank his massive girth into your mouth. Gradually, you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your tongue lick every millimeter to him. He, likewise, pushed his hips forward, bringing your nose flushed against his well-trimmed patch of pink hair. He plucked the recording phone from your hands, and you sensed him tapping on the screen to focus on the erotic display where your bodies connected, your sinful lips accepting his fat cock with ease.

"You are such a good girl." Sukuna Ryomen confirmed, his movements mind-numbing as though he wanted to breed your esophagus. He wrapped a hand around your windpipe, constricting your airflow and causing you to gag. "Brat looks like a goddamn goddess sucking dick. Isn't that right, Choso?"

No response.

Curious, your pupils rolled to the side.

The assassin's the man you feared the most.

He was quiet, always guarded, his mysterious eyes pulling you in like two black holes. You could never know what he’s thinking about, although you lucidly remember his crooked obsession with 'disciplining' you.

"Hey, honey.” Geto's deft fingers suddenly gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to return to him. “Pay attention to us, m'kay?"

You hummed in response, Sukuna’s dick still bulging visibly in your throat.

"I don’t want you to lose focus," an overly aroused Suguru went on to explain. He breathed heavily. Shaking. Or maybe that was you? He clutched your love handles harshly before he pulled out and stepped to the side, making you stroke himself with your delicate hands instead. Briefly, you assumed that Geto preferred handjobs and wanted to ejaculate onto your breasts, only to get your answer when your puffy clit came into contact with the sharp coolness from…metal?

"Choso," Toji's harsh voice warned.

Brought back to your senses, you looked down to see Choso using the fluids to lubricate...his gun. You recognized the weapon, the same one you had seen in his car. The same one he would use to kill. All air in your lungs left swiftly. What the actual fuck. Sheer mortification was the only reason you didn't have the guts to do anything (because, if Choso became irritated enough, he could pull the trigger and then you would have no guts at all), and your silence only gave him a reason to continue defiling you into his personal gun slut.

He stared at his boss with an unperturbed frown. "You know I like her too much to hurt her."

A squeal tumbled past your lips when the pistol's freezing barrel pressed past your tight hole. Although you partially expected Toji to warn the weapon-wielding man again, Toji instead leaned forward in his chair, jaw resting on his fist. He could seem more concerned, but the mirthful glimmer in his emerald eyes said otherwise.

Meanwhile, Choso's piercing gaze alone made you sweaty, your forehead turned glossy with a sheen. He lazily massaged your inner walls, your warm arousal coating his cool metal before leaking onto the table, the only struggle now was how your body involuntarily twitched. To your fascination (and horror), pleasure began to build with each too-hard pass of his barrel. There were just too many sensations going on. Messy mouth deepthroating one cock, slicked hands stroking another, and sloppy cunt taking in a gun. You did your best to give everybody equal attention because you were a desperate crowd-pleaser, not wanting anyone to feel left out.

With your back arched from the table, you became increasingly frantic, demonstrating through feverish movements that all you were was their obedient little bitch. All these hands on your body, skin on your skin. You felt them all, the senses exhilarating and fascinating.

Toji sternly interrupted from seemingly nowhere. “I can tell from your movements that you want to cum, don’t you?” Maybe, but you were too overwhelmed to focus solely on your pleasure. Nothing that your therapists couldn't help with. Leaning over, Toji snaked an arm around your body to press tight circles at your engorged clit. "Be selfish for a little bit," he coaxed. "Cum for us."

His permission sent you immediately vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as an orgasm tore through you. Your lips parted, but you didn't scream. Your eyes shut slowly and rolled to the back of your head as every millimeter in your fragile body unraveled completely—fluttering, cramping, and shuddering.

Your ears became blessed with chorused laughter and praise.

Choso inspected your copious juices that suddenly coated his gun, a translucent thread trailing from the barrel to your now-exposed cunt. Reaching over, Sukuna wrapped his hand around Choso's forearm. He leaned into the pistol and parted his lips, swirling his tongue slowly around the barrel. His maroon eyes were half-lidded, giving him an almost lazy yet focused look as he dragged his tongue along the metal, lapping up your precious essences—the syrups rich and just a bit tangy. Drooling and sucking like a little kid with a lollipop, Sukuna didn't care that his spit trailed from the metal down to the other man's wrist and flipped the camera to selfie mode to capture the action.

Towards the end, his tongue swiped over his lips, leaving a luster from your elixir that coated his mouth. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

After another generous lick, he swished the concoction in his mouth before pinching your chin, and your mouth propped open. Pleased, he hummed when you stuck your tongue out, showcasing just how naughty you were. He drooled the spittle into your mouth, the saline taste blossoming on your taste buds, a thread of spit connecting your chin and his.

"Sharing," Sukuna chuckled darkly into your phone's microphone, "is absolutely fucking caring."

Nearby, Suguru groaned. He hurriedly clambered to the comfy space between your plush thighs, shoving a grumbling Choso aside. "I'm so fucking close."

He buried his dick into your tunnel, the veins on his cock pulsating. Call him selfish or masochistic, but as much as he wanted to reach his high, Geto denied his orgasm to stay longer inside and prevented himself from fucking bursting.

“Don't hold back, Suguru,” you urged.

Geto furrowed his brows, sweat gathering on his forehead as he tried his best to hold out. He admitted earnestly, "I don't want to give you up, baby.”

“I want you to cum,” you said, all whiny with puppy eyes. Free hand slithering down, you cupped his aching balls and gently squeezed his heavy testes. "Besides,” you glanced over at the camera, “show Naoya how you can breed me…daddy."

Sugaru’s eyes widened at the unexpected nickname that he loved so much. That’s it. He’s done for. His handsome features crumpled from an over-the-top pleasure as he gave his snapping hips one final push and pumped you full, coating your cervix white with his thick essence as he rested his head against your forehed, panting into your ear and moaning into your skin.

Pressing one last kiss on your cheekbone, he pulled himself out of your hot cunt, allowing others to have their way with you.

Sukuna got behind you eagerly. He repositioned your shaking body, his calloused hands tossing you over and leaving you panting on your hands and knees. His harsh squeeze at your sides made you squeal just as he pulled your legs apart for easier access, exposing your cute hole.

"Shit, she's making a mess, dripping onto the desk." The same desk that belonged to Naoya merely several hours ago. Adjusting your phone camera, Sukuna thumbed through your folds like they were pages in a book, scoffing at the viscous dallops that slid out. The tattoos on his wrists gleamed pitch black under the glossy mixed juices.

"Suguru's cock did you well, but this pretty lady isn't finished yet, eh? She can take more. I know she can." His hands weaved into your hair and tugged harshly. "Tell us, missy. You can handle more, correct?"

The threat in his menacing tone only suggested there was one answer. You whimpered pathetically, "Yes."

With a crooked smile, Sukuna pressed his muscular form against your back. That man was starving. After all, he had been waiting to have your pussy properly wrapped around his painful erection when he could've greedily taken you for himself first.

"Stop moving so I can angle myself correctly," Sukuna reprimanded when you wobbled on all fours.

Hardly any time was given to let you register the warning before the man plunged into your sensitive socket. He ignored your desperate wail, amazed at how he plugged you all the way. His pace started off sensual and languid. Each snug press against your battered cervix at first made you squeak, but you became too far caught up in the moment that the discomfort disappeared as promptly as the sensation came.

"Mhm," Sukuna hummed, a squelch ringing through the room each time he would bottom out. He didn't need to say anything for him to feel how wet you were, fluids trickling out from your puffy hole and creating what looked like the Nile River running down your thighs.

"Holy fuck," Choso swore to the side, his emotions a rare display.

Blissful waves rushed to your head, one after another. Arousal flooded into your tummy, your cunt twitching uncontrollably as a second climax started to sneak up on you.

Sukuna groaned—or at least attempted to groan—through the exertion of his forceful movements. How he had missed playing with you. A few trickles of sweat on his forehead glided over the ink on his forehead before dripping onto your back. He pumped himself faster, his balls smacking against your clit harder—savoring how you squirmed underneath his direct influence.

He could not resist peering down at the sacred space where your bodies connected and ensured that the camera, too, had an unobscured view. The problem was he had become so agonizingly turned on that his hold on your phone began shaking. He rasped, back straightening. “Goddamn, your cunny does me good.”

Not long after, he reached his release snarling and grunting like a dog as white ropes shot from his cock and into your uterus, with him nearly dropping your device onto your ass from his sheer ecstasy.

"No!" you protested loudly when Sukuna pulled out abruptly, hissing as your empty hole clenched around nothing. "I..." You balled your fists, thumping the desk in frustration. "I was so fucking close."

"Don't worry." The strawberry-haired man tenderly brushed away the tears by your jaw. Like he hoped to comfort you somehow. "Nothing Choso can't help with. He'll take great care of you." He looked over at the said colleague. “Isn’t that right?”

Gulping, you followed his gaze to the other man who had stopped behind you.

"You look nervous," Choso commented matter-of-factly. "Why?"

As if he didn’t already know the answer. You rolled your eyes and snorted like a true brat, indeed. "None of your business."

Besides, you had enough encounters with Choso Kamo, each incident more indecent than the last. This time, he naturally noticed your eyes drift to the gun tucked into his back pocket, the saps from earlier creating an ample moist patch on his pants.

“So, tell me, bimbo," Choso spoke again. He didn't care to announce himself as he unbuckled and pressed in, stretching you with his thickness, aided by your copious reserve containing both arousal and cum, hitting that sweet spot that he had no problem finding over and over. "Did you think I had been done with you already?"

Holding in whimpers from his repeated thrusts, you let out a soft groan.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes."

“But, do you want me?”

Silence.

“I am not going to repeat my—”

"I want you s’ badly..."

A demon must have possessed you. There was no other way to explain yourself. But those remarks were all Choso needed before he began to move impossibly fast within you. He didn’t care that he pounded into you like a beast, creating a commotion that perhaps the floor below could hear your wetness reverberate around the room.

"This is for being a fucking tease." Choso raised his hand high and then delivered an unforgiving blow against your ass. Unprepared, you yelped from the sheer force, which had been enough to leave a handprint on your unblemished cheeks.

"I didn't—!" Your attempt to defend proved futile as Choso spanked you again with little regard for your feelings.

"This is for giving me an attitude," he continued, gruff. And again. "For forgetting how to behave, shit." And again, and again, and again. For this, for that, his listed grievances going on and on and on, his punishments making you cry and squirm and wail.

Choso knew he was selfish. If his boss Toji wasn't involved, he would want nothing more than to keep you forever, making you his little gun slut and teaching you to cum all over him. He couldn’t help it. As if the roles were reversed. Like he was the inexperienced one, unaware of his partner's feelings and only caring for his pleasure. He remained relentless as he continued his abuse, the tendons along his hands and arms flexing with his efforts, like the crazed killer he was being out for blood.

The distressed expression written all over your face only made him want to go harder. He loved making it hurt, his sadistic personality entirely to blame. With every pump, his testes smacked onto your clit repeatedly, feeling him sink deeper and deeper inside.

“F-Fuck—S’ too much, Choso!” A sob wracked your trembling figure amidst his assault. In distress, you tugged at his wrists to get him to ease up on you. That didn't matter. He was too strong, especially when compared to you.

"I thought you wanted to cum."

"I do!" But you didn't think you would be able to cum like this. "This...This is too painful!"

As if he cared.

"Oh, please," Choso scoffed, even rolling his inky eyes in dismissal. "This isn't painful. You're just being dramatic. If you think this is painful...how do you think I felt, hm? Watching Geto and Sukuna take turns defiling you. Hearing you blubber their names without shame. Did you think that I—with my cock stiff in my pants—that I didn't feel pain? Listen to yourself. God, turns out you're just another selfish slut."

Scorching tears streamed down your face, and you searched around desperately.

"No one here's going to save you," Choso announced, reading right through you. He pressed his face against your earlobe, a hot puff of air fanning out across your delicate skin. "Because it's too obvious. You fucking like this, pup."

Did you?

Even if that wasn't the case, you guess you did now, the unwavering conviction in Choso's tone spurring a change of heart. It’s sick, you realized, he’s manipulating me.

Yet, sure enough, you soon started to feel lighter, giddier. Your pupils dilated from stimulation and your muscles tingled with excitement. Choso felt so good. You felt so good, and the coil from deep within your cervix compressed tighter and tighter as a pressure built from within.

"I'm close...again." This time, it's a little embarrassing to admit, especially when you were complaining like a puppy just minutes ago.

"What did I tell you, pet," Choso growled, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a rare grin. He made you feel glorious. Consequently, you writhed underneath his body, fully submissive under his control. You wanted nothing more than to be a pliant baby girl for him, let him use you in any way he wants. "Cum and squeeze my cock."

“Make me.”

“Oh?”

One final blow to your ass was what hurled your body over the edge.

“I—” you choked on your spit. "I'm coming!"

You shrieked the moment you felt your body disintegrate, your shoulder blades caving in as sweat fell like raindrops from your skin. Elbows giving up, your head hit the table, leaving your temples pulsing with dizziness, bliss, and pain; your eyes staring at the wood finishing; your chest rising up and down, exasperated from the intensity of your release.

And oh, your pussy squeezed Choso good. Before he could hold himself back, Choso dug his nails into your ass. "Fuck, you are incredible," was the last thing he muttered before he came as well in one long grunt, splattering your womb with his creamy semen. He made you tremble when he pulled out, releasing the mess inside and leaving you feeling oddly empty and cold. Glob after glob of cum oozed out, semen from multiple perpetrators painting over your labia, which made the surrounding men grin at the sight, knowing that you held all their seed inside.

Nothing except their breeding hole, that was what you had become. There was something they adored about labeling you as their personal whore.

Not long afterward, a warm hand took yours into his own. Toji caressed the skin of your palm before pulling you right onto his lap again. In the end, he was whom you belonged to. If anybody wanted to do anything to you, they had to talk to him first.

Toji helped you straddle him, tucking one leg onto his either side, except you were so fucked out that you didn’t know who you were or where you were from.

"C'mon, honey. Don't lose yourself just yet," he murmured gently, brushing a few free strands from your forehead. Otherwise, you would've gone limp and lost all senses completely.

Toji had been waiting for you. He considered this a sign of his maturity, allowing the younger and more impatient men to make a mess with you first. Now, though, was his turn, fair and square.

His exposed length pressed up against his abdomen with fantastic girth and length such that—despite your current state—your pupils went heart-eyed and your mouth drooled from sight alone. He loved when you made that expression, one he had seen countless times in his dreams; a guilty pleasure in reality. He chortled at your sharp gasps, finding you adorable even after being stuffed by several men.

However, just when you didn't think you could handle more, his red-flushed head brushed over your clit and jolted your veins with the familiar wave of arousal. You shifted, the sticky mess between your legs uncomfortable. In a brief moment of lucidity, you had an epiphany. With one hand resting on Toji's shoulder, you reached down with the other to spread your folds, biting your lip as you clamped down on your sensitive walls hard.

Sure enough, a generous amount of cum trickled out of your used cunt, oozing onto Toji’s cockhead and sliding down gradually to his balls.

"Holy shit."

Eyes grew wide with surprise, jaws dropped in reaction to your nasty actions. Since when did you learn to become so dirty? Flushed cheeks betrayed their interest as they continued their lustful staring. Generous was what you were, letting them ogle like schoolchildren for a few moments longer before you scooped up the slick and began to suck on your fingers. Softly, you hummed at the succulent flavors concocted by you, Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso combined.

"Next up is you."

“So fuckin’ filthy," Toji praised with utter adoration.

As you continued, you made sure not to break eye contact as you subtly rutted your sopping cunt against his tip. You coyly batted your long lashes in his direction, making sure he could feel the liquids running down his cock and the throbbing pussy that awaited him.

You smiled. "All yours, Dr. Fushiguro."

He suddenly grew smitten at how polite you could be, and using his hands as a guide, he helped you sink into him slowly. “Goddamn.” The sound that emerged from him was wholly obscene, a carnal desperation only matched by your movements, your thighs constricting his hips and your eyes rolling backward. How cozy, you discovered yourself to be, snug at his hilt. Toji had filled you all the way but a few centimeters of his cock remain, his tip already kissing against your spent uterus.

Something about knowing that his little cousin would watch this made Toji want to do everything to push deeper into you. He started by rocking your waist against a rhythm, and a near-pornographic mewl escaped your lips when his shaft ran over an especially sensitive spot, the ridges rubbing against your cavern and sending pleasure through your every limb. He hummed at the way you squealed and loved how expressive you were with your body and feelings.

His tongue laved across your shoulder before stopping over your collarbone. "You'll still go back to Naoya after this?"

"Absolutely not," you mumbled with sincerity. "I would hate myself if I did."

“Excellent,” he slurred, his spit drooling down your back from where his mouth had latched onto your neck. “That’s…exactly what I wanted to hear, baby.”

Baby. Your eyes squeezed shut, responding with a whine. Although the overstimulation was originally uncomfortable, you began to feel satisfaction cut through the soreness once again as your body prepared for one more climax. You rocked your hips in need, like an animal in heat, a sight that would certainly drive your ex-husband crazy. “F-Feels,” you paused to pant, “Feels good.”

“Fuck.” Toji gritted out, breaking through his cacophony of crude moaning and effectively searing your skin. He continued steering your body in the rhythm he learned you liked, his nails nearly piercing your skin despite their bluntness. He cupped your jaw harshly. “What are you to us, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” You laughed a little, clearly delirious, and then replied. “'M your cumdump.”

“Say that again.”

“I—”

“Louder.” The emeralds in his heavy-lidded eyes skated briefly to the phone. “I want everyone to hear.”

So, you mustered all your energy to give your final answer—and the correct answer. "I am your cum dumpster!"

Toji started saying something, chuckling maybe, but his words weren’t clear even as he tossed his head back. His breathing was deep, wet, and sexy, and he was no doubt blistering hot in his business blazer, his slicked-back hair soaked with sweat and hanging limply in front of his flushed face. His expression, on the other hand, was what got you the most; his eyes drawn shut, his brows slightly pinched, his mouth just barely parted.

He panted, raising his head to lock lips with yours, moaning into your mouth lewdly before pulling back, and admiring your fucked out expression, face heated and sweating.

“Shit, you’re too good to me,” was the last thing Toji sighed before he added to your womb with his hot cum, his grip on your body tightening as his balls twitched and lodged his precious seed into the sacred cavern. Pussy clamping down, you milked him, not willing to let a single drop go to waste, gasping when the explosive warmth made you shatter with him, leaving you hiccuping and spasming until you were just jolting and crying out from the stretched muscles in your body.

Overheated, you slumped forward. Sweat rolled uncomfortably down your back, spit smeared across your neck and shoulders and chin.

But you looked up and giggled at your latest discovery.

“I love getting gangbanged."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I spent way more time preparing this chapter than I expected, writing, rewriting, and editing. Adding, shortening, then adding again. (At some point, this was nearly 7K words.) This is far from perfect, but I must relinquish myself. Thank you again for reading!

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[some-bunniii]

Lucifer with an artist reader

・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️

warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.

He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.

When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.

At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”

Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.

Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.

He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.

If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.

It was ASMR for the King of Hell.

You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.

You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.

Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.

“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”

You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.

Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.

His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.

And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.

“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”

“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”

“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.

Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.

“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.

“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”

“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”

“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”

“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”

You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.

“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.

Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.

Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.

And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.

“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“

Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.

“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”

He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.

When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.

“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”

Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.

In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.

Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.

For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.

“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.

You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.

You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.

When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.

“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.

There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.

You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.

Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.

“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.

Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.

Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.

“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.

“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?

“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”

Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.

“Fine.” You conceded.

“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.

The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.

After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.

“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”

You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.

“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”

“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.

You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.

Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.

Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.

“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.

“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.

A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.

“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.

“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”

You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.

“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.

Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.

“Alright, I suppose so.”

You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.

You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.

‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’

Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.

The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.

You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.

At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.

You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?

“Charlie?” You asked slowly.

The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.

You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.

“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.

“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.

“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.

Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”

“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.

“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”

You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.

“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”

“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”

You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.

“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.

This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.

Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.

“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”

You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”

“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.

You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.

In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.

“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.

Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.

You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.

“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.

Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.

Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.

You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.

“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”

You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.

“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.

Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?

You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.

You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,

His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.

Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?

His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.

He replied with a wave of his fingers.

You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.

“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.

What the hell was he doing?!

“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”

Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.

“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”

He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.

A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.

Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.

“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.

Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.

You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.

“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”

Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.

“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?

You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.

“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.

“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.

Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.

His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.

You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.

Did he just tense?

Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.

You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.

“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.

His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.

You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.

Taking a step back, you admired your work.

You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.

“And one more thing…” You started.

Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.

“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.

You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.

You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.

Maybe now this would be an even match.

“Begin.”

Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.

“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.

“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”

“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”

The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.

Then, he turned his head to you.

“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.

“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”

The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.

The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.

You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.

For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.

With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.

Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.

“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.

Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.

“Careful~” He chided.

You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.

You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.

“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”

“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”

You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”

He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.

Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.

This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.

To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.

Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.

You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.

You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.

Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.

Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?

You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.

“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”

“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.

You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.

“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.

“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”

“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”

Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.

“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”

You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.

“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.

“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.

You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.

“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.

“You did?”

“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”

“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.

You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.

“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.

“Ask what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”

His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.

You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.

“As always.”

His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.

As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.

“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.

His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.

You promised silently it wasn’t.

The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.

Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.

“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”

——————

🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!

💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?

[kpopscruggles]

Genre - Smut, nothing but filth

Work count - 2k & some change (of porn)

Warnings - roomate yunho and chubby reader cause that's hot, pwp (kinda), mature language, sexual content (obv), speaks about stealing panties, hints of a wet dream, yunho is obsessed with your body fr, foot kisses, unprotected sex, oral (f reciving)), dry humping grinding, It's just filth, reader is confident in this but talks about an insecure moement.

summary - after a wet dream and yunho waking up with a problem, he simple cant go back to sleep. Seeing you wake up not too long later and talk about a date that went south he realizing he's done. He needs you.

I’ve had him in my head since I went to my ateez concert so I need to shed this, also tell me what you thought.

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

He panted; his body close to being drenched in sweat; The only stop was the cotton of his clothes soaking it up. This was the second night this week Yunho had that dream... 

The same dream that had been haunting him on and off this month, one week it was all his body and brain could think about, the next week his brain watched you during the day only to think of the perverted scenarios and dream about it the week after that. It was a never-ending cycle that the male could not get rid of. Looking at his phone, he hissed as the screen blinded him “3:05?” he groaned, he was now lying wide awake, still not being able to catch his breath. Eventually he had come to reality, sitting up he let a weak sigh leave his throat before pulling away the comforter and seeing the wet patch of cum in his sweats. He should have known this was going to happen as he began to think about the dream again. 

“F-fuck...so big~” He could not help but feel his heart burst like a fragile little virgin, but his body knew what it was doing. His tip a bright hot pink, watching his slit come in perfect alignment with your swollen clit before he began rubbing his cock against it. Your body shuttering at how sensitive you were “Baby please~ just let me have your cock..I need it so bad...” who was he to deny you? Denying you was never an option for him.  

He chuckled a little just thinking about it, ‘almost like a puzzle piece’ he thought before groaning and soon combing the hair from his face, coming back to the cold and harsh reality. Finally getting up from his bed he made his way to the shower, the cold one didn’t even suffice for him, but he made it work. Soon he even drank a glass of water as he sat on the couch only for it to take over his thoughts again. It wasn’t till the chime of the dryer from the closet had caught his attention. Quickly getting up he walked to open it, seeing your basket he put the items inside and placed it next to the closet door. 

He smiled to himself...he was nothing but proud. At least this time he hadn’t take your panties, yet he reminded himself he hadn’t returned the other ones. Minutes went by, Hours. It wasn't till he looked back into the hallway to see you rubbing your eye as you shut your bedroom door. It was 5 am, why didn't you get your rest? 

“What are you doing up?’ your question, that simple question but with your morning voice ached him. “Oh...nothing...just woke up early I guess.” Hearing you chuckle and making yourself your own glass of water before joining him on the couch. Yunho took a deep breath only to hide it with a yawn right after, “you still seem tired....” Hearing your words then watching you gulp the water; he could only reply by shrugging his shoulders.  

The short responding but steady conversation went on and on, yet Yunho could only admire you. Your face was so precious. He only heard small mumbles leaving your lips. “Yunho?” you chuckled causing him to snap back. God he really had to stop spacing out....” I’m listening” was all he could respond back with, which he wasn’t. He was just watching. He watched your lips move, how you nibbled on them sometimes, but only after you licked them. 

Staring at your lips didn't last long though, once you started turning on the tv to see what late night shows had one more episode before ending, that was his time... 

He being the secret pervert he was for you made sure his eyes scaled down. Straight to your breasts, scanning the area he felt his cock twitch seeing your nipples ever so slightly from your tank top, your bits of chub on your upper arm coming together with your chest and you hugged yourself slightly while finding your show to watch. Fuck your tits, his worst enemy, your chest and him had a love hate relationship. How could he love something so much without touching it, or how could he hate it so much, but it gave him an ache in his cock.  

Your full and pretty tummy, that was the part of your body he wanted the most. Your stomach made him spin in circles. Thoughts of watching the soft fat jiggle ever so slightly as he’d bury his cock in your cunt. The thought of gripping it, rubbing it, spilling his cum on it. Yunho felt sick to his stomach but only because he continued to think about how he wanted you.  

He could keep going, your legs, your thigh thighs, your cunt. Oh god your cunt...knowing behind those cute little sleep shorts was your cute chubby pussy. Knowing it was currently sitting nice and cute in your panties, in his mind it was just gushing and waiting for his cock. The thoughts of your pussy only inches from his face, placing kisses on your plush hood before stuffing his head in you. He knew you would taste so sweet.  

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, that date went awful.” you added and that made his heart hurt a little. “I think he didn’t realize how big I was, which his loss, I’ll just have to find a man who can handle me....” Yunho could handle you; he knew he could. Letting out a sigh he relaxed on the couch before watching you stretch your legs where they rested on his lap. He debated.... Should he admit this? 

“What do you think, when you think of a guy who can handle you?” he questioned before clearing his throat to try and conceal the nervous gulp he just did. His hands rested on your ankle while playing with the small star charm on your anklet before feeling the butterflies in his stomach hearing your small chuckle. Seeing you nibble on your bottom lip as you watched him fumble with the charm. Seeing you think he smiled a little, he knew you had a certain idea in your mind. He could tell you were thinking about saying something risky. 

Glancing at your pretty manicured feet he then looked up once you spoke “I want a man who wouldn’t treat me any different than if I was a skinny girl, I want to be loved like that...I'm confident don't get me wrong, but sometimes I have my moments....” he watched you sigh. “Like I dressed up for that man, I got confident enough to wear a cute tight dress just for him to see my fat and get disgusted, I guess....” Seeing you get so venerable, his poor baby. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to show you he loved you.  

“I loved you in that dress...” he added before rubbing your ankle and taking a glance at you. “I thought you looked so fucking good...” seeing you smile a little he couldn't. He watched your chest heave a little, he was practically doing the same, matching his breathing with yours. “And yes, I mean it...” he added simply. He couldn't take it no more, he had to have you. 

His cock growing a mind of its own, his tip already begging to be inside you. Pushing himself to that limit of holding on long enough. Using his last bit of energy, he made sure he placed himself between your thighs. Hish hands attached to your lips; his body pressed against yours. Feeling your nipples grow hard against his chest. Looking you in the eyes only for a second before attaching his lips to yours. Hearing your small moan but accept his lips just made his cock twitch in a way he could never describe. 

His cock begging to have some friction before it explodes, his only option was to begin grinding against you. “Y-Yunho~” fuck you sounded so sweet to him, hearing you moan his name almost made him so nervous he got sick. Just by those few reactions, he knew you were his, he couldn’t let you go no matter who or what was told to him. The wet patch of your shorts began reaching through his sweat. Your sticky precum causing your shorts to stick to your cunt as he lifted his hips just enough to peek.  

His rutted his hips closer, the pressure on your cunt from the weight of his lower half. His lips attached back to your neck, sucking the darkest shades of purple on your neck. “Gonna..ngh...Yunho I’m gonna cum~” your whimpers rang through his ears. His hips only got faster, you could barely hear him reply “Me too~” but you could hear his moans, he knew you did. Hearing the shaking gasp leave you and the way your nails dug into his skin he could tell you had come. Such a simple yet so sweet release. 

His hips shuttered feeling the spurts of cum fill his boxers, a groan leaving his lips while he bit on your collarbone. Taking a deep breath, he hissed slightly once lifting his hips to reveal the sick mess between you two. “I can't get enough of you~ I have to cum in you baby, will you let me? Please say..please say yes...” he added, still trying to catch his breath. Seeing you nod, he knew that he was gone.  

Sitting up completely he helped you remove your clothes piece by piece before scarring to remove his. Watching the sticky substance glisten on your cunt after he removed your shorts...gripping your leg he immediately started placing kissed on your ankle, slowly moving up your leg. He was so eager enough, but he had to let you know how badly he wanted to make you feel good and cherish what you were giving to him. Seeing your face flushed, your hands gripping the sofa pillow under your head to try and keep yourself grounded. You looked so precious. 

Dipping his head down to your cunt he groaned slight, letting out a breath and watching you shiver from it touching your clit. Your pussy was so much better to see in real time, he struck. The way he imagined it through your shorts. The sticky cum covering your pussy completely, looking up at you one last time before running his tongue over your hood, take the soft fat into his mouth licking the thin layer of cum from it. 

Hearing a pant leave your lips he groaned to himself once pulling away “I've always wanted to have you in my mouth...do you think I could be the only man to love this pussy after this?” he smirked a little before spreading your cunt. Watching your pussy lips gently pull apart, strings of cum soon disappearing the further spread. He sighed again seeing the small hole almost overflowing with the creamy substance that was gushing from you. “Your pussy is so pretty~ Why are you so fucking tempting...” he whispered the last bit to himself.  

Scooping his hands around your thighs he soon had you locked to him. His lips immediately attaching to your clit. Feeling his tongue push past the opening of your outer cunt, his tongue slowly circling your clit. “F..feels so nice~” Your hands running through his hair before pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Your actions showing him you begged for more. He had to give you more. 

Removing his arms from your thighs, one arm running up your body, caressing your tummy before his large hand gripped your breast, running his hands over your nipple. His free hand moving to your cunt, slender fingers slowly pushing past your hole, your gummy walls swallowing his two fingers. He could feel your lips tightening around him, your cunt getting warmer and wetter with each thrust his fingers gave. 

He could tell from the shaking of your hips that you were close. Enjoying himself in his own little world in your cunt, he could feel himself someone processing your release once the small begs left your lips. “Yunho~” You whispered, “Fuck Yunho~” It got louder “UGH FUCK~!” Hearing your cry leave you brought him back to reality. Your hips bucking as he pulled his fingers from you revealing the cum before he sucked them clean.  

Sitting himself up again he watched his cock, the precum oozing from his tip. A drip even falling onto your hood making you both chuckle softly. Seeing your hand come into view, it wrapped around his cock pumping it only a couple times. That dream now feeling like Deja vu once he seen his slit shape to your clit like a puzzle piece. But the Deja vu only lasted for a moment until you pushed his tip into you. 

A small whimper leaving him, he never felt that in his dream. Bottoming his cock into you he chuckled softly hearing your moan and the small squelch from how wet you were. Pulling out completely it only took a deep breath before shoving his cock back into you. “I can’t wait to give you my cum~.” His hips slowly started rocking but that wasn’t enough for his baby as you softly began begging for more. 

He picked up his pace, the small smacking sound echoed in the living room. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He groaned with every thrust he made. Your loud cries being his motivation to go deeper. Watching you lift your legs, placing your feet on his chest, your gold anklet bouncing with each thrust he made. Your chub jiggling along with your breast, if he didn't find a distraction soon, he was a goner. 

Immediately he took your ankle giving it a couple wet kisses before admiring your pretty feet by taking your toe into his mouth, sucking on it slightly to muffle his filthy moans. Your free leg dropping to his side giving him back the clear view of his cock disappearing in your cunt. “So big baby so fucking big!” Your cried before looking up at him, your eyes barely open as you tried not to tightly screw them shut.  

“A-all for you baby!” he muffled before gently removing your toe and going back to kissing your ankle. “This cock is all yours! My c-cum is all yours! SHIT!” He groaned feeling tour cervix kiss his tip with each go, and he knew he was about to cum. “I'm gonna cum princess!” Your leg now pushed against your chest, and he leaned down to place his forehead against yours “Gonna fill up this fat pussy~ ngh! S-show you how bad I love you, how I can't-fuck~ how I can-not go a day without you!” 

Your cunt sucking him in, begging for his cum. He could not hold it. His stomach dropped; his thighs covered in cum shivering as he plunged into your leaking pussy. The creamy substance done formed a ring around his cock, that sigh was the last straw. One more deep thrust before his warm load filled your insides. The shakey sighs leaving his lips before a choked gasp left him as he felt you cover his cock in your cum. 

Your sticky bodies holding each other tight, the suction from your cunt almost stopping him from pulling away. Soon giving in he let out a whimper before he pulled his cock away from you. A small chuckle leaving the both of you before he gave in giving you a kiss “F-feel free to use me whenever you want. I’m yours like I said” he added making you smile “I think we're gonna be closer than just roommates who fuck..” A flush formed on his face before giving you another kiss and just nodded. He had no problems with that.  

[daycourtofficial]

Capture the Mate

Summary: Azriel has to leave on a mission for a few days, but he asks Cassian to help look after his pregnant mate while he’s gone. Someone ambushes you and Cassian, taking you as prisoner.

Author’s note: this was requested by this lovely anon!!

“You look massive today.”

You snort at Cassian as you walked in, your giant belly making sitting down a bit difficult.

“And you look extra stupid today,” you retort, “guess we’re both glowing.”

Cassian laughs, going back to his cereal. You were in the last few months of your pregnancy and you were ready to meet your baby. You loved being pregnant, you loved how hot sex with your mate was because of it, you loved cradling your bump and the way your mates hands always find your bump.

But you didn’t love Cassian’s comments comparing you to a whale, the back pain, the inability to get comfortable, and your mate’s overprotectiveness being dialed up by a factor of a thousand.

Azriel was going on fewer missions these days due to your pregnancy, opting to delegate most of them to his most trusted spies. There are occasionally some missions he has to do himself, not happy about leaving you, practically throwing temper tantrums in the lead up to being gone. When he comes home it’s as if he’s been off at war for decades, checking every inch of you, asking you about every detail of your time in his absence (even down to what you ate exactly - he thinks you don’t eat enough vegetables in his absence).

This is the fifth mission during your pregnancy he’s gone on, and each time he can’t bear to leave you without someone who can protect you. Whenever Azriel has to go, he ensures one of his brothers or Feyre will be present with you at all times. Whenever he’s gone, you just stay in your old room at the House of Wind or at Feyre and Rhys’s new house.

At first it sounded a bit like needing a babysitter, but now it’s more like just staying at someone’s house for a sleepover. Feyre and Nesta always tried to help you have fun, spending the days you’re with them doing the things you love. Cassian loves you being there because he likes to have eating competitions with you, and Rhys likes it because he spoils you rotten.

Before Azriel left, he spent probably an hour saying goodbye to you and the babe. He’d kiss you, then move down to talk to the babe. “Stay in there until I return,” he’ll whisper. “Be nice to your mom while I’m gone, okay? Let her sleep, I won’t be here to rub her back when you kick her in the kidneys.”

This time he actually tears up a bit at leaving the two of you. He looks at you, grabbing your face in his hands, “I shouldn’t be too long, sweetheart. Be safe, I love you.”

-

“Any plans for the day, Cass?”

“Mmm not really, I already had training, so my day is free to be spent with you, my favorite sister.”

You smile. “You say that to both me and Feyre,” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly.

Cassian lifts his spoon to finish off the last of his cereal. “It changes day by day - today you’re the favorite.”

-

You had asked Cassian if you two could go back to your home with Azriel, you had some chores to do and you also wanted to work on setting up the nursery.

Looking around the nursery you take in what needs to be done. A month out from the baby’s arrival and your mate still hasn’t set up the crib. But if you set it up without him he’d give you a big lecture about how he was going to do it and how you could get yourself hurt doing it, so you’ll just leave it be.

You have a dresser set up and a wardrobe that practically rivals your own, so you decide to spend the day folding and putting away baby clothes.

Cassian graciously offered to clean the dishes that were in the sink, along with sweeping and mopping your downstairs floors.

After telling him he didn’t have to do that, he responded, “well I don’t want dirty floors for Cassian Jr. here when he starts crawling, and I don’t want you mopping because if you slip you might hurt Cassian Jr.” He finished his statement by reaching out to rub your belly.

You rolled your eyes at him, as he smiles at your belly. “Cassian, aren’t Jr’s supposed to be named after their father or mother? Last I checked, this wasn’t your baby.”

He strokes his thumb over your bump, hoping to feel a kick from within, “we could convince Az it’s mine. I think it’d be hilarious.”

You snort, “he’d kill you in a heartbeat.”

Cassian sighs, “I suppose. Maybe the next one can be Cassian Jr.” He wiggles his eyebrows as he tries to look at you suggestively.

You fling your arms, bringing on of your hands to your forehead dramatically, “Oh Cassian your powers of seduction are too strong, I’m irresistibly drawn to you! I must flee, to keep myself from pouncing on you.”

Laughter from the both of you echoing through the house as you attempt to scuttle away but it becomes more of a waddle as you climb the stairs to your nursery.

-

An hour or two had passed and you made a remarkable dent in the amount of clothing your baby had. The vast amount of clothes are mostly Rhys’s fault, no one alive loves buying clothes more than that male, but your mate was also quite fond of picking up clothes on the rare occasions he left your side.

He loved watching how happy you got, realizing just how much he was thinking of you and the babe while gone.

You decide to go check on Cassian, not having heard much of anything from downstairs since you’ve been in the nursery. You waddle down the stairs, holding the railing for support. You get to the last step, and you see Cassian in your living room, face down, wings splayed out, blood gushing from his head onto your rug.

You yell for him as you run to him, sitting next to him, checking for a pulse. He’s still alive, but he has a considerable amount of blood.

You press on his head wound, trying to cradle his head in your lap to apply pressure to the wound. He’s starting to wake a little, you can feel his hands squeezing on your thighs.

A hand wraps around your neck from behind, and a cool metal graces the skin of your neck.

“Here’s the pretty little thing we were looking for.”

-

When Cassian came to, his head was pounding. He sat up on the floor of your living room, trying to assess the situation. He was mopping the floor of your kitchen when something struck the back of his head.

He never got a good look at the assailant, the blow leaving him stuck on the floor. He was, however, able to crawl into your living room in an effort to reach you.

You.

You had cradled his head, you had come down here.

Cassian bolts up, causing him to go a little dizzy from the blood loss. He gets up, darting up your stairs.

“Sunshine? Are you here?”

He ran into the nursery, checking all the spots you could be hiding in there - the wardrobe, the closet, amongst the bags and boxes littering the floor.

His panic was starting to rise. “Sunshine, are you here? It’s me, Cassian.” The desperation was leaking through his voice, “please be here, it’s okay to come out.”

He combed through your shared bedroom with Azriel, checked every bathroom, Azriel’s study, your spare room, your library, the kitchen.

He combed through his memories, knowing Azriel kept hidden nooks everywhere. When the two of you moved in together, he remembered Azriel made several small pockets in this house so you could hide if anything were to happen.

You came to training, but you were no warrior. You couldn’t hurt anyone, and Azriel knew you’d have a hard time attacking anyone. He knew that Azriel drilled into you if anything were to happen to hide immediately.

The library.

It’s Cassian’s last hope. Of course Azriel had stuck a hidden panic room in the library. Cassian bound into the room, trying to remember what book it was that opened the secret entrance.

Combing the spines, he’s trying to remember. It was green, something that stands out a little, but not too much. Something someone who knew Azriel would know that this is off.

A book of Prythian maps. Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian had all of Prythian memorized, there was no need for it.

He slides the book from its spot, watching the case move, exposing the empty tiny room.

-

Cassian wasted no time jumping off your balcony, flying like a bat of hell to Rhys and Feyre’s house, screaming mentally, hoping Rhys would pick up on it.

He lands on their balcony, bursting into Rhys’s study, interrupting the intimate moment between them. Feyre was perched on his lap, feeding him grapes, Cassian’s entrance causing her to drop the bowl, the ceramic shattering on the ground, a dozen or so grapes spilling across the floor.

“Cassian!” Feyre yells in shock. She didn’t even know anyone else could burst into Rhys’s office.

Rhys stands up, immediately knowing something was wrong. “Where is she, Cass?”

Cassian points to his head, allowing Rhys to see everything. Your rug he stared at after the blow to his head, hearing your distress, him going in and out, feeling your hands press against his wound, him waking up alone, his frantic search of your house.

Feyre gasps, having also seen all of it.

“Bring Azriel home now.”

-

Your captors had thrown a bag over your head, not allowing you to see anything as they took you away from your home, away from Cassian bleeding on your rug.

They left Cassian, probably as a message that they could take him down if they wanted, but that he wasn’t who they wanted.

Your only hope is that Cassian wakes up soon enough and alerts Rhys and Feyre about what happened, and they could get into contact with your mate.

You were filled with a mix of emotions, between fear, concern, and anger. Afraid for your life, what your captors will do to you, concern for your unborn baby, and anger for Azriel.

Azriel closes off the bond between you two during missions, a decision you both agreed to. However, the second he is available, he opens it, letting you know how he is. Your biggest hope now is just sending him how you’re feeling, hoping he’ll feel that you’re alive whenever he reopens the connection.

They had picked you up and flown you somewhere, so they’re most likely Illyrian.

They land, not nearly as gracefully as your mate or his brothers, emitting a soft ‘oof’ from your lips.

They carry you for at least ten minutes, through what you assume is decently packed area.

Are you in one of the camps?

You knew relations between Rhys and the Illyrians were bad, but would they really kidnap the spymaster’s mate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you realize they’ve brought you into a building and have set you down in a chair, shackling you to it.

You haven’t spoken a word, barely eliciting a sound, just like your mate would do. You’re not sure if it’s what you should do, but the thought of what he would do holds you together.

You have to be strong, for yourself, for Azriel, for the baby.

They pull the bag off your head, your pupils dilating due to the sudden change in light. Four Illyrian warriors stood before you, 11 siphons glowing throughout the room.

“Hello, beautiful.”

The one who had been carrying you and taken you from your home approached you, caressing your face. You kept a stoic, neutral expression, not letting anything slip.

Just like Azriel would.

Your only response is the eye contact you refuse to break with him.

“That piece of shit struck gold when the cauldron bonded you to him,” practically spitting out the last word.

“Your little shadowsinger won’t stop snooping around our camps, won’t stop telling his precious little high lord everything he sees. They’ve been meddling in the way we deal with our women, the way we govern ourselves. We thought it was time to uh explain to them why they should just stay in their precious little city and leave us alone.”

-

The second the words left Cassian’s lips, Rhys was trying to reach Azriel telepathically. Within seconds of Cassian’s words, darkness was clouding the room, creating an impenetrable black, the only light shining being several blue siphons glowing with rage.

Cassian recounted the whole thing to the darkness, knowing his brother was somewhere in there. Once he got to the part of the story where you were gone, the room exploded even further, making Azriel’s siphons impossible to see now.

A few shadows whiz by Cassian, he’s assuming to double check you aren’t in their home. The rage Azriel feels is coming off in waves, when he remembers the bond is still closed.

He closes his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. Please, please, please.

The bond opens, your warmth filling his chest. He can feel the initial fear you felt at being taken, but he can also feel your constant reassurance that you and the baby are okay.

Azriel feels his eyes prickle with tears as he chokes out, “they’re alive.” His brothers reach out to hug him or soothe him, but he steps back, his male instincts kicking in.

“I can feel it,” he says, holding a hand up, “the protectiveness is ramping up. I want to kill any male in sight.”

Rhys and Cassian start protesting, telling Azriel they want to come with him, but he stops them again.

“Give me a five minute head start. Then I’ll give you my location.”

-

Your silence was an interesting strategy, one your captors did not like one bit, their irritation with you growing by the minute.

“Maybe we should rough her up then drop her back on their door step. Pretty loud and clear message, don’t you think?” He circles around your chair, sizing you up like prey.

“We could show her how women are supposed to be treated by us,” one in the corner shouts.

The one circling you spits at your feet before he says, “those half-breed bastards have gone soft, they forget what it means to be Illyrian.”

In a flash he steps forward, his hand slapping you across the face.

-

Azriel used the bond to find you. He kept tugging, the bond offering him a direction to go. He kept winnowing into the direction of the tug, when he began realizing where the bond was likely taking him. He growled with anger, unable to believe they could be so stupid as to take his mate.

He disappeared into his shadows, sending a few to find out exactly where you were. Once they returned, sans the two that wanted to stay with you, they whisked him away to the room you were being kept in.

The big one who had struck you earlier was mid-strike when the shadowsinger materialized out of the shadows in front of you, his hand catching the brute’s wrist.

“Lay another hand on my mate and your hands will become trophies I hang on the wall.”

You can feel his shadows enveloping you in a soothing wave, checking you head to toe for injuries, but only finding the stinging cheek and the pain from the shackles.

The twirl through your hair, eventually skating over your swollen belly, where they settle and stay.

Your mate’s shadows were very attentive of the baby in your belly, as if your unborn babe were calling to them, too. They reacted to everything the babe did, every kick, every movement, as if telling your babe, “we are here, little master.”

The anger radiating off of Azriel was palpable, but his demeanor was terrifying. A feralness to him you’ve never seen before.

“Whose idea was this?”

Nobody in the room speaks, the assailants just gaping at your mate.

“Speak.”

One of them points to the leader, the one whose wrist was still in Azriel’s hand.

Azriel looks into the male’s eyes, piercing through his soul, as he flicks his arm, breaking the male’s arm.

He screams, shocked at the swiftness of the break. Azriel takes the moment of surprise to pull the first assailant’s head into his knee, bashing his head into his kneecap, throwing him on the ground.

He looks to the next closest one, tilting his head, deciding how he wants to play this. He decides to leave truth-teller sheathed at his side, opting instead to use his bare hands.

“I wanted to savor this, however I don’t want to keep my mate waiting,” he states, coming up to the next closest one and swiftly wrapping his hands around his head, twisting until a sickening crack echoes through the room.

One of them lunges for Azriel, fists raised to fight him. Azriel moves to the side, causing the running assailant to run into the wall behind the shadowsinger. Azriel grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling his arm back, and with all of his force, pushing his head into the wall. Over. And over. And over. His blood splattering the wall, an actual crack in the wall forming from where his head kept hitting it.

He releases his hold, allowing his body to fall to the floor. Azriel turns and looks at the last one, the one that had pointed to whose idea this was, as some of his shadows finally break free from you. “Now,” he says, as they begin pooling at the last captor’s feet, “I’ll deal with you later.”

The shadows at his feet begin pulling the male into the pool of darkness, assumingly to be questioned further about their failed plans.

Azriel undoes the shackles keeping you in place, hoisting you into his arms, the belly making it a bit more difficult.

The second he reopened the bond to find you, he began sending you a constant stream of love down it, trying to convey to you that he was on his way to you.

Being gathered in his arms, the bond was humming a sweet melody, a soft duet that can only be heard when you’re together.

He pulls back, grabbing your face in his hands. “I have never felt fear quite like I did when Rhys made me come back. I knew something was wrong, I was hoping that the babe had just come early.”

He puts his left hand on your belly, the babe inside kicking the exact spot his hand is in. Your mate laughs.

You look at him, seeing the fear and adrenaline in his eyes as he continues, “but when I got back and Cassian said they left him behind and took you, I thought ‘okay, if they’re gone, I have nothing left to live for.’”

“But then, I opened the bond, and I felt you, and I-“ he chokes up a bit, continuing, “I almost started crying. You were alive, and you were okay.”

He pulls your head in, kissing the top of your head several times.

“You’re both okay.”

You reached up, stroking his cheek, “we’re okay.”

He smiles, and you laugh, “I guess this means you’re never leaving my side again, huh?”

He laughs, a tear falling down his face as he does so. “Oh no, sweetheart. You thought I was overbearing before, just wait. You won’t remember what personal space was soon enough.”

You laugh, “at least tell me you aren’t upset with Cassian. He’s a sweet guard dog.”

He smiles at you, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “They ambushed him, I could never be upset with him over that. Now come on, let’s go see my brother before he gives himself a heart attack with worry over you.”

“He is quite fond of me, isn’t he?” You ask, his arm going around you, preparing to embark through the shadows to go back home.

“He told me he prayed every night that we would be mates,” he says, the shadows beginning to engulf the two of you.

“Why?” You ask, wrapping your arms around him.

Azriel looks into your eyes as he says, “he told me he never thought anyone was good enough for me until he met you.”

[goldfades]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄? ─ PB⁵

౨��� ─ summary | requested! -> "can u pleaseeee write a fic with paige & a cheerleader at uconn ?? something cute like post game ritual, like going out to each or something"

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | slightly suggestive (no smut tho), very flirty paige cus she's the rizzler, sweet fluffy things, some teasing and established relationship! nothing else, enjoy!

─ taglist | taglist in my navigation!

─ ev's notes | im on such a paige kick rn so please send me some requests and you shall receive!

"─ I KNEW WERE GOING TO WIN AFTER THAT," PAIGE EXPLAINED enthusiastically as you listened intently, a small grin playing on your face as you did so.

Your girlfriend walked in front of you as she told you everything and anything that was going on in her mind, her adrenaline still pumping from the game that had ended almost an hour ago. She was just rambling excitedly and of course you didn't mind, you actually enjoyed it thoroughly.

You were cheering on the sidelines the entire night and your arms were so sore, they were after every game. Paige carried your pom-pom's for you as you finally walked out of the arena, you could barely even feel your feet at this point.

Despite feeling the exhaustion of the entire night on your shoulders, it dissipated as you watched Paige. You didn't even feel tired anymore as the cool air hit you. The night air felt crisp against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heated atmosphere of the arena.

"But Coach was mad because I kept looking at you during the game. It's not my fault you showed up looking that good, I mean Jesus. I will never get used to how sexy you look in the uniform." Paige rambled as her eyes looked at you up and down, you felt your cheeks get warmer. Her admiration was always flattering, and you found yourself blushing slightly under her gaze.

No matter how many times Paige showered you with compliments, it'll never get old. "Well, I can't help it if I distract you," you teased, returning her gaze with a warm smile. "But you're the sexy one, trust me."

"Yeah, I guess so." Paige shrugged as she began walking backwards so she could face you. "I'm the sexy one and you're the pretty one, that's how this works, right?"

"What works? Liking girls?" You tried to clarify as you laughed, shaking your head.

Paige chuckled and shook her head. "I meant, you know, the whole dynamic. I'm the sexy athlete, and you're the pretty cheerleader,"

You let out a huff of laughter as you reached her car, Paige joining in a few seconds later. "Oh, I see what you're getting at," you said with a playful smirk as you leaned against her car. "Well, if that's the case, then I'm the lucky cheerleader who gets to support her amazing baller girlfriend."

Paige smirked, unlocking the car and holding the door open for you. "And I'm the lucky baller who gets to have the prettiest cheerleader by her side."

With a laugh, you climbed into the car, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as Paige joined you in the driver's seat. As she started the engine, you leaned over to press a quick kiss to her cheek as her hands slid down to your thigh and squeezed it.

You leaned back into the passenger seat as Paige kept her hand on your thigh, driving with one hand. God, she really was sexy. She felt your gaze as her lips curved into cocky smirk but she kept her eyes on the road. You let yourself relax into the moment, enjoying the sensation of Paige's touch against your skin.

You reached your apartment building, the drive feeling all too short. As Paige parked the car, she finally turned to meet your gaze, the playful smirk still on her lips.

"You okay there, beautiful?" she teased, her voice low as you met her eyes.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her cocky demeanor, feeling a surge of affection for the confident woman beside you. "More than okay," you replied, your voice soft with affection.

Paige's smirk softened into a tender smile, and she leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. The warmth of her touch sent a rush of electricity through you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the game ended.

You both pulled away and she let out a small laugh as you pressed another kiss on her cheek. You opened your eyes and let out a little laugh as you saw some of your lipstick had transferred to her lips and cheek.

Chuckling softly at the sight of your lipstick on Paige's lips and cheek, you reached up to gently wipe it away with your thumb, your touch lingering on her skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"There we go," you said with a smile, admiring the smudge-free result. "Can't have you walking around looking like you just won a makeout session instead of a game."

Paige laughed, leaning into your touch. "Wouldn't mind winning that too," she teased, her voice low and playful. She leaned away as she finally turned her ignition off with a yawn. She gestured for you to get out of the car and you both got out.

She grabbed your hand as you both walked up to your apartment. Once inside, Paige led you up the stairs, the familiarity of the surroundings comforting as you reached your door.

She opened the door and you threw her stuff on the ground with a tired huff. It was a routine you were both accustomed to, and one that always brought a sense of warmth to your heart.

Your lips curved into an amused smile, Paige always treated your apartment like it was her own but of course. But you didn't mind in the slightest; in fact, you found comfort in her presence and the easy way she fit into your life.

"You know, one of these days, you're going to move in officially," you teased, nudging her playfully as you stepped into the apartment behind her.

Paige grinned, turning to face you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And what makes you think I haven't already?"

She walked into the kitchen as you followed closely behind. She opened the fridge and grabbed a water before chugging it quickly as you rolled her eyes at her antics.

"Slow down, you'll choke." You joked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smile. Paige shot you a playful glare before setting the empty water bottle on the counter with a satisfied sigh.

"I'll have you know, I'm a professional water chugger," she replied with a grin, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Is that a new sport you're adding to your repertoire? First basketball, now water chugging?"

"Hey, hydration is key," Paige said, adopting a mock-serious expression. "Gotta stay on top of my game, you know."

You laughed, reaching out to playfully ruffle her hair as she groaned. "Well, I can't argue with that. But next time, maybe try sipping instead of chugging. I'd hate to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver on you."

"If that makes you feel better, princess." Paige rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she shot you a playful smirk. "Anyway, I'm gonna go shower cus I'm disgusting."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, giving her a playful wink as she headed towards the bathroom. You looked down and realized that you were also sweaty and disgusting.

"Wait, wait. I need to shower too, so hurry!"

"Or..." Paige started as she smirked back at you. "You can join me?"

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Paige's suggestion, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh, is that so?"

Paige smirked, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of excitement. "Why waste water when we can save some by showering together?"

"God, you sound like such a boy right now." You joked as she grabbed your arm and pulled you into the bathroom. "Okay fine. For the environment."

"Yep, for the environment." Paige replied as she closed the door, a smirk playing on her lips.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[rxzennia]

nocturnality

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 irregular sleep patterns make for good nightmare consolation

aventurine wakes up in a cold sweat, throwing off the sheets as he sits up abruptly. 4am, his bedside clock reads, and he rubs his eyes. he can’t get the images of the thirty-four slaves he had killed out of his head; he watched the life drain from their eyes, and they were children like him. neither could he be rid of the feeling of blood on his hands, from those whom he stained himself with, and those who stained themselves upon him.

see, he isn't the type to seek anyone out in his moment of vulnerability

he doesn’t trust anyone to not take his fears and use them against him

but he thinks you might be safe

you did put up with him for 5 years and counting, after all 

although he still can't really tell if you like working for him

you haven't left yet! and you seem to care about him!

it means something to him, even if you're not outright showering him with warmth

he would've loved it if you were more affectionate, but he finds himself liking the way you’re only ever soft for him 

you’re a slab of ice to everyone else (even to him occasionally, if he doesn’t pester you enough to get you to open up)

anyways, he debates between texting, calling, or visiting you in person

your room is not too far away from his block – he might as well try his luck

(he has insanely good luck, so maybe you will be awake)

before that, he sends you a text just in case

it's not even a text, it's just a random sticker in his recents

your reply comes a few seconds later, and it's so characteristically you

one question mark. literally. just “?”

there he has it, you're still up and about. aventurine is used to your patterns by now, even if he can’t wrap his head around how you sleep so late and rise so early.

well, as long as you're well and doing your job properly, he's not going to question it

though he does wonder if you sleep at all

you’re his dutiful secretary during the day, sorting his documents, reminding him of his schedule and the like

you even follow him into meetings if he asks you to 

sometimes he has to be ready by 5am

and guess what? you're awake and all dressed up by then, knocking at his door at 5am sharp

but you don't go to bed until 3am?

he only knows that because he had once tried to talk to you about a project idea he had at that time and you didn't pick up the phone 

when you finally did pick up on his second call (in his defense, you usually weren’t asleep yet), you sounded groggy

and then you were like “mrrrrrh what is so important that you must wake me?”

he will never tell you how much he found your sleepy voice adorable

that was the earliest he's ever seen you sleep in all the days that he's known you

he really, really hopes you’ll renew your contract with him

you’re his absolute favorite out of all the secretaries he’s had

no one’s as soft with him as you are

no one’s ever tried to listen to him, or to understand him the way you do

out of everyone, you’re the only one who he feels some sort of genuine connection with

he’s seriously considering giving you a permanent position when your current contract ends

a familiar sequence of knocks sound at your door, and you know it's aventurine who's come to visit you. you've set up something like that with him because of the sheer frequency at which he bothers you outside of office hours, and you'd like to know which inconsiderate bastard it is who tries to visit your room past midnight.

affectionately, of course

it's not like he's causing you any inconvenience, so you don’t really care

you look at him, and wordlessly, you open your arms

you don’t need an explanation, or excuses, or an apology, or anything

his eyes are bloodshot, and you can see the cold sweat still on his forehead

he didn’t even bother tidying up before coming to see you

your heart aches, because it isn’t very often your boss comes to you in this state

he doesn’t even hesitate before he plops face first into your embrace

you’re lucky it’s the ungodly hours of no-one-is-awake, because you bringing your boss into your room is not a good look for you

especially when he’s holding onto you like you’re his secret lover or something

you don’t talk, and neither does he

you just hold him as he clings to you like you’re his lifeline

you lift him up easily; you're not about to stand in the doorway for the rest of the night 

he likes how you don’t ask questions, how you comfort him without expecting anything in return

you don’t even know what exactly it is that plagues him, but you’re so tender with him all the same

you settle down in bed with him, though he can tell that you were working before he interrupted you

your monitors are still on, and you have a dozen of papers laid out side-by-side along with a pen that is now abandoned

he feels a little bad, but also he’s overwhelmed by how easily you do these things

like… setting your work aside because he’s looking for comfort

but you’re not even doing it consciously? you’re doing it so naturally like you’re doing it out of habit

he doesn’t think you intended to tuck him into your bed when you picked him up

he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t get you.

you could’ve held him in your lap while you worked and he wouldn’t have complained

to give him your undivided attention like this

are you trying to make him lower his guard? 

he wants to draw the natural conclusion of your eventual betrayal once he lets you in, but he finds it so ridiculous that it’s impossible

you? who’s so gentle with him? who’s not even spoiling him consciously?

aventurine doesn’t feel safe with many people, if at all. the fact that he breathes so peacefully by your side is a surprise in and of itself. when your fingers brush against his hair, he shivers and holds onto your arm tighter. 

“don’t go,” he says, as sleep slowly takes him again, “stay.”

you chuckle, a sound that he loves to hear, as you offer him your entire right side

and your scarf

you don’t know if he’d like it, but you flick the end on your right over to him anyway

he does like it. he snuggles into the fabric without hesitation

he vaguely remembers the fact that your scarf is your weapon, but it’s the least important thing on his mind right now

it’s soft. it smells like you. it’s comfortable.

you’re still trying to work, settling for reading through documents on your tablet

he cuddles up to you, shifting in your warmth until he finds himself a nice position to settle into

you let him sleep by your side, even if you’re unlikely to rest yourself

it’s okay, you can work through the night just fine with your tablet

you’ll be right next to him when he wakes

you glance at aventurine, who’s finally relaxed and getting the rest he deserves. he’s snoring softly all the while holding your arm in a death grip, and you feel yourself overcome with a surge of protectiveness.

you’ll watch over him. when he’s feeling better, you’ll see if he wants to talk about it. and whatever happens next… well, you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. you still have contracts and agreements to review, and there’s only so much time before more work ends up on your plate.

that said, aventurine’s day starts in three hours; maybe you could shuffle a few things around and let him sleep in?

[eloquentlytired]

the good cop chapter 1 𐙚˙ dark!walter marshall

pairing: dark!walter marshall x fem reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: always two steps ahead, the best in the department and your wise mentor; nothing could ever incriminate walter marshall because he is the good cop. but that ceases to exist when you discover who is behind your shadowy nightmares.

warnings for this fic : stalking — 18+ — non/dub con — age gap — angst — manipulation — creepy behavior

*no smut in this chapter. I will try to upload a new chapter once a week or faster if I'm rlly inspired ☺️

chapter two is out !

In the beginning it was unnoticeable.

“Don’t buy that. You will not like it.” Walter had said when you were choosing what to order for dinner during your night shift. There wasn't much to do tonight aside from paper work — at least you did not have any field work this time. For someone who had willingly and consciously decided to work as a police officer, it surely didn't make sense how much you preferred absolute peace. To most it was weird but to Walter it wasn't. “And how would you know? I happen to enjoy spicy food from time to time.” You replied while Walter simply rolled his eyes. “Buy it then. Beats me.”

An hour later your food arrived and Walter was peacefully enjoying his own noodles while you were practically gagging at yours because of how spicy they were. You shared a long awkward glance as your tear stained eyes silently pleaded with him for some assistance.

Walter let out a long-drawn sigh before switching your plates and offering you his own food instead. You watched in terror as he ate the spicy noodles without even blinking — how unfair yet at the same time charming. You shyly grabbed the noodles which once belonged to Walter and began eating them instead. “Thank you.” You muttered after a small bite. Perhaps it wasn't evident at that time but Walter was smiling and there was a rare glint in his eyes.

Halfway through it was discreet.

The job was well paid and you had been doing your best to decorate your apartment to your liking, in the closest to your imagination way. You were busy scrolling through your phone during one of your breaks that you didn't expect to suddenly bump against a hard chest. Two strong hands gripped you firmly by your shoulders and steadied you, not letting you fall. Your face blazed a little when you saw who it was.

“I’m sorry,sir. I wasn't looking.”

Walter of course scolded you, his eyebrows furrowed and his face strict. “If we were under attack right now, you would be dead because of your phone.” You gaped a little before shaking your head. “You underestimate my reflexes,sir. May I remind you of my score in—”

“Being distracted? I am sure it was splendid.” Walter cut you off before finally releasing the grip he had on you. You almost missed it because of how fast it had retreated but you obviously couldn't express such thoughts to him. He was your superior and your mentor. “Hey. Are you even listening?” Much to your embarrassment, you had managed to be distracted for the second time and never noticed Walter talking to you. That's what you got for daydreaming about him you guess. “Sorry what?” He couldn't possibly deny repeating himself when you looked at him like that. “You should stop smoking before patrols. I know you're anxious but it's a bad habit.” You looked at him dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking your head. “How did you—”, “The smell. I always drive with the windows up in case you haven't noticed.” There's an evident flush on your face and it's definitely not there for a good reason. “I thought my cologne would keep me safe.” Walter nearly snorted at your words. “I’m a cop, not a child. But that's beside the point. Stop smoking.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask out of the blue which makes Walter look at you as if you've grown a second head. You sigh and explain further. “I have been trying to keep my anxiety a secret. I know we're all to be observant because of our job but...I thought I was hiding it well.” Something strange seemed to flicker within Walter’s eyes, an emotion you've never seen before, before he quickly blinked. His face was hard but composed. “I could only tell because of the time pattern. Perhaps I should've assumed you're scared of water and soap—”

You snorted. “Okay okay! Gums it is.”

Later on it was coincidental.

There was a loud ruckus occurring as Walter entered the office of the police department, his colleagues laughing while you were standing at the center with unshed tears in your eyes. His blood immediately ran cold and he tightened his grip around his water bottle, slamming it on the nearest desk. Everyone grew silent and you turned to look at him with your startled expression and puffy eyes — Walter couldn't shake off how pretty you looked when you were crying.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked out loud but no one dared reply to him except you of course. He was staring at you after all. “I..I lost something.” Walter stared at you for a moment before crossing his arms, seeming to tense a little. No one seemed to notice that part though. “What?” You sighed. “It’s my favourite lipstick. My mom got it for me for my birthday. It's the only one I wear!” It wasn't an emergency or anything remotely close to that which is why your colleagues had appeared amused. Walter, on the other hand, remained passive and with an unreadable expression occupying his face.

“You’re a cop. Calm down and retrace your steps.” Was the only help Walter offered to you before turning around and leaving the room. To you and the others, he was just pissed because you had disturbed the department’s peace.

To Walter, he was simply trying to shake off the feeling that your crying face gave him while he was clutching something solid in his pocket. A bright red lipstick encased by a golden wrapper with your initials on it.

He promised himself he'd return it. Sooner or later.

In the end it was a habit.

You were shaking as you sat in a chair across Walter, his office not giving you the comfort it used to. So many weird things were happening recently and if you didn't have an answer for them soon, you'd explode.

“And you’re certain this happened?” Walter asked while examining your report, his eyes appearing more intense than any other time. You immediately nodded at him while hugging yourself and his chest almost felt tight because of how scared you looked. “I swear. At first I thought I was imagining things. I mean... coming home during nightly hours will sometimes be dangerous and the darkness only enhances fear and the false thoughts that someone is following you right?” You were blabbering anxiously, your nails digging into your palms. “I was certain I was paranoid at first but then came the missing underwear.. some make-up and some jewelry too..” Walter’s gaze never strayed from you as you explained how things were, a stream of hot tears running down your rosey cheeks. You were crying and all he could think about was how pretty you looked again. “And I.. I wanted to confirm it myself.”

Walter clenched the report in his hand while leaning forward. “What do you mean by that?” Your eyes flickered from Walter to the floor. Your bottom lip was quivering as you spoke. “I fixed all my drawers one day and counted everything. The next day two underwear were missing.” You were surprised to see Walter’s face after you finished talking — he appeared nervous. Angry even.

There was utter confusion in your mind until Walter spoke. “While your method was fruitful, that was utterly stupid. Sacrificing one more night of sleeping with a potential stalker in your house for some evidence.” He made a lot of sense. As expected of a good cop. “I know but I—”, “This isn't the time to be a hero. You need our help. My help.” You watched him rise from his seat and circle his desk before coming to kneel before you, placing his hands on each side of your knees. “You’re not alone. You don't have to be.” He whispered and you shivered because of how genuine he sounded. How caring. Your eyes filled with hot tears again and before you could control it, you threw yourself into his arms and Walter immediately hugged you tightly. He shushed you softly as one hand caressed your hair whilst the other hugged your waist. “I’m scared.” You told him and Walter shushed you again, brushing his lips over your ear to soothe you. “I‘ve got you. I've got you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fell shut as you allowed yourself to grow limp against him. Walter rocked you within his arms, a low rumble making his chest vibrate. He could be a good cop for you with a few exceptions; like the amounts of lace underwear he kept in his house, well hidden in his closet, or the expensive jewelry he had stuffed inside some decorative vases. There were a few more exceptions of course — like candy wrappers and half finished cigarettes with lipstick marks on them.

And that red bright lipstick still swimming deeply into his pocket. But of course, you did not have to know that.

author’s note: I hope u guys like it so far!! please leave a like and a reblog if you enjoyed reading this!! I hope to see u again in the next chapter ☺️🩷 AND I RLLY LOVE COMMENTS & DISCUSSIONS !!

[mustainegf]

Sooo james is your best friend and he is a plus one for a wedding and he knows nobody there and he sees you talking to some guy and he gets possesive and jealous and you tell him that he is your cousin but then you realise that he likes you or smth aaaaaand you fuck in the car outside the venue

(i know this is too long, I'm so sorry)

𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁶

I toyed with the delicate lace sleeves of my dress for the millionth time as I stood in front of the mirror. The soft ivory colored fabric fitted, dare I say, just right, while the detailed beadwork sparkled delicately in the light.

I exhaled, trying to gather my nerves. Weddings always made me a little nervous, but tonight was a totally different story. Tonight, I had James as my plus one.

James and I had been friends for years, cemented in so many memories. For me, he was way more than just a friend. Though his exterior was quite thick, he had a heart of pure gold, and he knew just the way to make me smile.

I heard someone knock at the door, and when I opened it, there James was, dressed in his tailored black dinner jacket suit. His usual casualness turned into some polished elegance, though his eyes still held that rogue gleam.

"Wow," he said, his voice low and appreciative as his eyes traced up and down my figure. "You look beautiful."

A blush crept up my cheeks as I smiled shyly. "Thank you, James. You clean up pretty well yourself." I chuckled softly, pretending to dust off his shoulders.

He laughed, stepping into the room. "I do what I can. Ready to go?"

I nodded, reaching over and looping my arm through his as we left. That brought the problem, with this many guests at the wedding, James was going to be known by at least somebody, and while he had agreed to be my date, I still was nervous that he might be a bit ticked off getting attention.

James didn't like to show it, but he really was quite shy, preferring to slip into the crowd rather than be the one directing it.

The ceremony was gorgeous, such a great mix of love and tradition. During the ceremony, several times, James would glance my way, his soft, admiring eyes, rarely ever to be seen, something that made me feel special.

We ended up sitting at a table with some of my distant relatives during the reception. They were excited to meet James, who, in turn, was very polite. I could feel his discomfort.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, bending close to me. His breath in my ear, and that deep voice of his sent ripples down my spine.

"Just some water, please," I replied, smiling up at him. "Thanks, James."

He nodded and made his way to the bar, leaving me with my relatives, who immediately bombarded me with questions.

"How did you meet James?" asked one of my second cousins, whose round eyes nearly popped with her curiosity.

"I did stage work for his band like years ago," I said, trying to sound polite. "We've just been friends since then I guess." I say with a laugh.

"Friends, huh?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "He seems pretty into you."

I laughed it off, but her words stuck like superglue. Was James into me? I shook my head once more. He was just a friend. Surely...

He came back with our drinks and set a glass of water before me. "Here ya go."

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip of the water. "Are you okay? You seem kind of jittery."

He shrugged, giving me a small smile. "Just not used to being in a room full of people who don't know me... Well most people. It's really nice, actually."

I nodded, I understood what he meant, having done work with the band, I knew how relentless some fans could get.

We spent the next hour chatting with other guests and dancing. James was shockingly an excellent dancer, guiding me effortlessly across the floor. His hands slipped into a grip on my hips that felt like always should've been.

As the evening ticked on, I was having a conversation with one of my cousins, Mark, who I hadn't seen in years. We were chatting about old times, dumb stuff we did as kids, when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning back, I found James, his jaw clenched, his eyes a little squinted.

"Who is this?" he asked, so easy, yet laced with something that I knew was less than kind.

"This is my cousin, Mark," I said, introducing them. "Mark, this is James, my date."

James relaxed a little at my words, though in his eyes, I could still see the unease. "Nice to meet you, man," he said, holding out a hand to Mark.

Mark shook it, smiling up at James, who was much taller than him. "Nice to meet you too, James."

There was this awkward silence, and I felt the need to break it. "James, why don't we go get some air?"

He nodded, and we excused ourselves, stepping out of the venue, just outside the doors. The sweet night air was cool and forgiving. I turned to James, who was staring out at the stars with clenched shoulders.

"What's going on?" I asked gently. "You were weird back there."

He sighed and ran a hand through his short ruffled hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like that. I guess I just… I didn't like seeing you with some other guy."

I blinked in surprise. "James, he's my cousin."

"I know that now," he said quickly. "I just… I don't know. It felt weird. I'm sorry. I feel really dumb now."

I searched his expression. Could he mean more in his words? Was it the continuous lingering gaze throughout the evening, the possessiveness in his tone, that finally could be a proof he has feelings for me? Could he really?

"It's okay," I nodded softly. "I understand."

He turned to me slowly, his eyes boring into mine. "Do you?"

I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure that I did. The idea that James might have feelings for me was paralyzing. In a good way.

The idea of him feeling the same way that I did, because, if I'm going to be honest with myself here, I have developed feelings for him too, was something that was hard to be ignored.

"Let's go back inside," I said, clearing my head. "We still got a wedding to enjoy."

He smiled, and in that second, things were good. "Yeah, let's do that."

The rest of the night was spent dancing and laughing, but I just couldn't get that question out of my head. Had James felt something for me? If so, what did it mean?

With the sky darkening, James and I walked toward his car to find the soft hum of crickets filling the night air as we were leaving.

James, being the gentleman he was, matched strides with me with a light hand resting at my lower back.

We walked to his car, sleek and black. "Tonight was… interesting." He said with a low chuckle, almost like he was trying to relieve any sort of ill air.

I turned toward him, his tone piquing my curiosity. "Yeah,but I had a great time with you. Even if you were a bit tense."

He rubbed the back of his neck, and a sheepish grin tugged on the corners of his lips. "I guess so. I just—" He looked aside for a second before his eyes locked with mine again. "I didn't like seeing you with someone else."

I blinked, taken aback by the admission. "James, I told you, Mark is my cousin ".

He chuckled, but of course, it was nervous. He didn't have to make that, like his usual, confident laugh. "I know, I know. It's just… seeing you with him made me realize... a lot."

My heart felt a heavy beat. "Realize what?"

He drew a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "That I'm in love with you."

Those words strung along in the air, floating around as I tried to collect them. I stood there, stunned, shocked, bewildered, unable to form any coherent response. James shifted uncomfortably, mistaking my silence for something else.

"Seeing you with him just brought something to the surface, and I'm sorry if this is gonna... fuck things up."

I didn't need to think, I reached up and cupped his face in my hands, pulling him down to my level. Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to his in a kiss that was loving but thirsting. For a heartbeat, he was still, then responded as his hands instinctively slid around to my hips, drawing me closer to press against him.

It was as if the whole world had opened up in front of us after years of saying 'Just fuckin' kiss already!'

With mingling breaths and soft laughter escaping through the kisses. When we finally pulled back, our foreheads rested against each other, with our lips still touching.

"I´ve been in love with you for so long, James," I confessed, my voice shaking from my emotions as I ran my hand over his cheek, feeling his prickly facial hair.

He smiled at me then, such a natural, heartfelt smile that I'd always loved for its uniqueness. "That makes two of us."

His hand trailed down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine. "Get in the backseat, missy," he said, murmuring low, his eyes full of intentions and a tad bit of the liquor from earlier.

My heart grew weak in my chest at what I knew he meant. I nodded, letting him lead me around the back door he had opened on his car.

He gestured for me to get in first, and so I did, feeling the quickening of my pulse.

James quickly slid in beside me, closing the door behind us as my arms instinctively reached for him. His eyes brooded into mine, soft but still insistent as they ate me up. "You're sure?"

I moved in closer, lightly touching my lips to his. "Always."

As we kissed, hands moved over each others bodies, discovering all the curves and lines with our touch rather than just sight. I straddled him, my dress hitching up around my thighs as I settled onto his lap. His hands found their way to my hips, pulling me closer, and I felt the heat of his bulge pressing up against me.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered against my lips, voice hoarse. "I've wanted this since the day I saw you."

I smiled, my chest spilling with love and lust. "Me too, James. M-Me too..."

Our lips met again, and this time, it was much deeper. Our tongues danced, explored, each shock was evident in his taut body and the barely restrained need. But what turned me on was how I couold feel him getting harder by the second, his clothes erection rubbing my thigh.

"I want you," I begged, pleading for anything he would give me. "Right here, right now."

"I need you, James. I need you so much."

James responded with his hands sliding under my dress to stroke my thighs. I moaned into his mouth again, this feel of his hands being something I never knew I needed. He lifted my dress higher, exposing my delicate panties, and he was tender, reverent.

"You're so perfect," he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing down my neck. "So fuckin' perfect."

I ticked at his words, my fingers threading through his hair as I held him close. "I love you, James."

He looked up at me then, his eyes very dark. "I love you too."

He pulled my panties to the side, the tips of his fingers touching my most private parts. I gasped as my body arched up into him. His fingers took teir sweet ass time, learning each crease and vulnerable nerve.

"You're so wet," he whispered in wonder. "All for me."

"Yes," I breathed, already dripping just at the thought of what we were about to do. "I want you inside me, James. Please."

He didn't need any other invitation. He undid his zipper and quickly released himself from within his dress pants. He sat there for a split second, gripping the base of himself that the breath caught in my throat. With a soft chuckle, he pressed himself at my entrance, his eyes locked with mine.

"This might be a bit awkward," he said with a small, nervous laugh.

I giggled at him, falling in love with his dorkiness all over again. "I'm sure we'll live."

Slowly, carefully, he guided himself inside me. I could feel every singl inch, every vein, as seated his complete length inside me. I moaned softly, trying to dig my fingers into his shoulders as I adjusted to the feeling of him inside me.

"You're tight, baby," he groaned, restraining himself. "You feel s-so good."

Slowly I rocked my hips, trying out different angles to find a rhythm that suited the both of us. I gasped as I felt his tip just gently graze my G spot.

I bounced softly, his greedy fingers pawing at my sides as he helped buck upwards. Everything was more in the close confines of the car, every touch, every movement as we whispered soft, breathless words.

"That's it, honey," he murmured against my lips, "so, so perfect."

I whined softly, my frame trembling with the stretch of him. "Keep going, James. Don't stop."

His free hand grasped gently at my bouncing breasts, squeezing at me like I was his own personal toy, looking to enjoy every second of it. "I love you," he said again. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I replied. My voice was breaking with emotion. "So much."

It was creeping in, the thrusts, so timed and deliberate. I could feel my orgasm approaching, knotting in my stomach.

"James," I gasped, trying so hard not to cum right there and then. "I'm so close."

"Me too," he groaned, his hands clamping on my hips, my flesh spilling from between his strong fingers. "Cum with me, baby. Cum with me."

With one last, mighty thrust, I was cumming all over his cock, my walls gripping him as if begging for more. The air was occupied by my cry as fingers bit into his shoulders. Soon enough, James followed. He quickly pulled out, pumping his fist to reach the edge.

"Quick, grab my shirt-" He gasped.

I laughed out loud at him, rapidly bunching up his shirt to his chest, just seconds before he was spilling cum all over his tummy. The warm, thick liquid dripped down as the final spurts washed over him.

The two of us just sat there for the moment, gasping for breath and trembling.

Both James and I locked eyes before falling into laughter. "That was amazing," he choked out, still hoarse.

James helped me balance myself carefully, his hands remaining on my hips as he did so. "it's a good thing your suit isn't wrecked," I mumble with a short giggle.

"Yeah, thanks for that..." He chuckled, paying a short kiss to my lips.

[cherryxblossxms]

Bedtime Relaxation

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: I don't give nearly enough love to my Luci, and I just wanted to write him being casual and simply wanting some loving from his MC. Not proofread and a bit of a rushed ending

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem afab reader, fluff and smut, no protection, neck kisses and a lil biting, praise, dirty talk, fingering, creampie, a bit of breeding, cockwarming; remember to pee after sexxxx; Lucifer is a tease but there's a lot of love~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 3382 this was going to be short what happened

It wasn't unusual for you to go to bed alone most nights. When getting into your relationship with the Avatar of Pride, you knew what a workaholic he was. Thanks in part to his troublesome brothers, there was always work and bills to be looked over. The rest was thanks to Diavolo, having to review matters concerning R.A.D. on a near constant basis as an important member of the R.A.D. student council.

Any attempts to assist him were often met with stubborn refusals, but you fought against those with tooth and nail. Sometimes you managed to help decrease his workload, easing his burden at least a little bit. But you had to be honest with yourself that, more often than not, there was some paperwork that was simply too far above your head to manage. That's why tonight, you'd gotten ready— dressed only in one of his shirts as your pajamas— and slipped into bed all by yourself once more, your lonely sigh echoing in the empty room.

You were almost comedic looking amidst the bountiful sheets as the singular figure on your lover's massive bed. You knew Lucifer would always join you eventually, when his coffee ran out and his mind refused to look at any more papers, serving to fill the bed just a bit more. In fact, Lucifer often told you he slept better ever since you started sleeping by his side, so he always made sure you two were together during the night. But you still couldn't help the loneliness in your chest, and unfortunately, your day had been an exhausting one. It wasn't long before you had to succumb to sleep without him, missing his touch and dreaming of being in his arms.

You awoke some time later to movement on the mattress. You couldn't tell how much time had passed, but given how dark it was, you'd hazard a guess it was a few hours since you fell asleep. A cold hand made its way around your waist before a hard body pressed up against you from behind, spooning you close. Without looking, you knew immediately who it was, but that didn't stop you from angling your head back, trying to catch any kind of glimpse of your lover in the darkness.

"Lucifer?" You asked, almost involuntarily.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, and took the chance to kiss you softly before settling behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I wanted to finish up my work and didn't realize how late it was. You can go back to sleep."

Your body rejoiced in that, wanting to return to your slumber as soon as possible. But your mind wanted otherwise. It had been a while since you'd gotten any quality alone time with the eldest demon, and even if it was brief, any time together was better than none at all.

You shook your head despite the darkness of the room, clutching to the arm around your body.

"That's ok, I want to stay awake a little longer. I've missed you." You hated how needy you sounded when you were tired, but it was the truth.

You could feel Lucifer chuckle rather than hear it, and another kiss was pressed to the back of your neck.

"I've missed you, too, my love," he said, nuzzling against you. "Nothing is right until you are in my arms like this." His words brought heat to your face, your heart aching with so much love for your hard-working demon.

Several more kisses followed, showered against your lips, your neck, and the curve of your ear, and everything in you wanted to purr at the feeling. His arm tightened around your middle, hips bumping your butt as he got as close as possible, and sparks came to life low in your belly. You couldn't help but squirm against him, his kisses and his touch always serving to rile you up in the best way, and you couldn't help but want more.

A well-placed bump of your butt into his groin made Lucifer grunt, and he retaliated with the drag of sharp canines against your skin, making you shiver. Any remaining sleepiness in you totally dissipated, replaced by the need for more. If Lucifer hadn't been holding you down, you would have turned around to get better access and deliver some kisses and bites of your own. So instead, the two of you settled for grinding and groping, your bodies heating up beneath the sheets.

Lucifer's nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned the shirt you were wearing, the pride and possessiveness within him swelling at seeing you wear his clothes— along with something else between his legs. A quick squeeze to your breast pulled a mewl out of you, and it was easy to arch up into his touch, encouraging him to continue.

With the heated, intimate atmosphere, you were quick to lose yourself in what was happening, especially as your lover's fingers squeezed and pinched at your nipples relentlessly. Having so little free time with your demon left you both needy, after all, and one thing always led to another rather quickly. But something nagged at the back of your mind, before suddenly springing forth in a tiny moment of clarity, making you gasp.

"Oh!" Lucifer's fingers stopped their movement at your exclamation. "Wait, aren't you working tomorrow? It must be so late, you need to rest."

Not that you wanted to stop, but the last thing you wanted was to be the cause of his sleep deprivation. An exasperated sigh blew across your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"No, I'm not working tomorrow. And these long nights are exactly the reason I asked to take tomorrow off." That surprised you, causing you to glance back at him. You're sure if one of Lucifer's brothers had heard that, they would be surprised too; the eldest brother never took vacation, at least not before he met you. "I've been away from you for too long, and I plan to start making it up to you, my darling."

The fingers that had been teasing your breasts began sliding down your body at a tantalizing pace, kisses decorating the back and side of your neck again as he did so. After what felt like a torturously long time, but was likely mere seconds, he reached the apex of your thighs. You hadn't even realized the way your core was throbbing, aching for his touch.

He paused for just a second at the lack of underwear, before moving onward. A single, long finger separated your folds down the middle, teasing your hole before swiping up and just barely glancing your clit. You could feel your wetness, hear it even, before he even said anything, knowing just what exactly he was feeling, and a deep, seductive hum filled your ear as he seemed to voice your thoughts.

"Hmmm, see? You're so wet for me already," he said, lips pressed to your ear now. "I've been neglecting you, clearly, not taking care of my lover's needs like I should. It's only fair that I repay you what you're owed, pleasure you to your heart's content."

His words warmed your heart, while simultaneously feeding the throbbing in your clit, desperate for more of his touch. Lucifer's work usually took priority over many things, so you hadn't expected him to think about it like this. Not that you didn't appreciate it, though.

"You haven't been neglecting me, Luci," you said. "I know how important your work is, I knew that when we got together, and you know that I support you still."

Another hum in your ear, but he stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I just want you to be able to relax a little, so you don't burn out. You haven't been neglecting me, so you don't have to take time off just to please me. Although, that means so much to me."

A beat of silence passed, and you opened your mouth to question his silence before that same long finger suddenly swiped over your clit, your slick on his finger making it glide with ease. The motion made you jolt, drawing a slight moan from your lips.

"Ahh— hey!" You protested, grabbing his arm.

He waited another moment before repeating the movement, but this time making slow, leisurely circles around the sensitive bud. Your thighs opened involuntarily, giving further access to your heat, and you couldn't help the shuddering moan you let out.

"And what if I said that me taking time off is actually for a selfish purpose?"

The words only half registered in your mind, basking in the stimulation he was giving you, and it didn't help you understand them any better.

"While it happens to be for pleasing you, I'm taking time off because I wanted to feel you beneath me all night... and all day," Lucifer teased, pleased with your reactions to his ministrations. "Instead of the sound of pen scratching on paper, I wanted to hear you moan my name until you lost your voice. And instead of feeling the cold loneliness of my study, I wanted to feel your sweet, warm little pussy squeezing my cock."

You couldn't help the groan that came out. If you could orgasm from words and voice alone, you knew that line would have done it.

"So give in to me, my love, and let me pleasure you like I've been aching for," he purred into your ear.

Your lover always knew exactly what to say, and although you were still concerned about his exhaustion and the late hour, you were beginning to lose the battle of willpower against his masterful fingers. As much as you wanted to insist that he rest, you had to admit his argument was... compelling. You finally sighed as you gave in the pleasure, relaxing against your lover as his hand continued.

"Fine," you said, reaching back to place your hand on Lucifer's cheek. "Give it all to me."

Lucifer didn't waste a second before plunging two of his fingers into you, sufficiently slick from your arousal. The heel of his hand ground against your clit simultaneously, and the pressure was heavenly. He set a good rhythm, mind-meltingly good, making you whimper from the pleasure, and a sharp cry was drawn out as he found and attacked the most sensitive spot along your walls. A moment later, a third finger slid in, working on opening you up, and you couldn't resist rocking your hips against him in response. Your hip ached from holding your leg up for him, but you couldn’t be bothered to care until you got your orgasm.

You could feel your climax building already, the lack of touch from his long working nights making you extra sensitive to it now. And your lover had all of you memorized, every moan and tremble, every little spot that made you cry his name and gush arousal.

"My sweetheart is getting so tight for me, you're already going to cum?" Lucifer asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You just whined in response, pushing your butt back into him, feeling his clothed erection straining behind you.

Lucifer huffed, keeping up his pace. "Look at you, you can't even answer me. I can feel how close you are, though, how badly you want this."

And he was right, you were rapidly approaching the edge. The sounds of your wetness filled the quiet room, and your body felt blazing hot. You couldn't imagine what kind of mess was between your legs as he continued playing with your cunt.

Just as you could feel your pleasure begin to peak, his fingers suddenly stopped, simply stuffing your pussy instead. The orgasm he'd been working you towards instantly began to slip away, and you tried to rock your hips again, desperate to chase it. But Lucifer anticipated your move, removing his fingers all together, and the action made you want to cry.

Wasn't he just telling you about how he wanted you to cum??

Your lover shifted behind you, but you were too at a loss to think of what he was doing. It wasn't until you felt his bare, solid length between your thighs, eagerly pressing against you and getting covered in your slick, did you realize he was preparing to take you. And as expected, Lucifer began to rock his hips forward slowly, dragging his length through your folds. His heat and his size were intoxicating, and as if you weren't already a mess from his fingers, his length was doing wonders against you.

Each time he drew back, you could feel the mushroom head press towards your entrance, and you hoped he’d finally slide in and fuck you like he promised. But your hopes were dashed as he simply moved forward again, bumping your clit instead, seemingly unaware of your growing desperation. The man was teasing you, and it drove you nuts the way he knew exactly how to press your buttons.

"Luciiiiii," you whined.

Lucifer squeezed you close, chuckling low in his chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “It sounds like you want something.”

“Wh– Of course I want something!" You protested. "I was going to cum and you just stopped! You just said you want to please me, and now you're teasing me instead."

"I don't believe the two are mutually exclusive." This made you huff, your eyes rolling hard in your head. "Don't be mistaken, my love. I'm going to make sure you cum as much, and as hard, as possible in the next 24 hours. But a little denial helps to sweeten the deal, doesn't it?"

You hated that he was right. Orgasms with Lucifer were powerful, and it was all thanks to his devastating combination of denial then reward. Whether it was because he was a demon, or because he had potentially hundreds of years of experience, you weren't sure. All you knew was that Lucifer could play you like his favorite instrument, and make you sing like no one else possibly could. All you could do was whine softly in response, Lucifer continuing to tease his length against you at a leisurely place until you said otherwise.

Just as you were ready to explode at him, however, you finally felt his tip press to your entrance. All the teasing and prep made it easy for him to slide in, his mushroom tip popping past the first ring of muscle with ease, making you gasp softly, but he took his time pressing in, making sure you were comfortable.

“Ohhhh, fuck…”

Even with the prep, he always gave you a good stretch, and as he bottomed out, that delicious full feeling was incomparable. The mutual relief of finally feeling each other effectively silenced you both, and all you could hear for a moment was your combined heavy breaths.

That first thrust was heavenly.

He gave you a moment to get adjusted before slowly pulling out, almost all the way, then pushed forward again. The gift of long-anticipated friction drew an involuntary moan out from your lips, the first of many for the night, and it spurred your lover on to up his pace. Once Lucifer knew you were okay, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him as his hips started moving faster.

You reached an arm back to touch his hip, feeling the pull of his muscle as he moved, and focused on the feel of his cock pumping between your walls. You closed your eyes, reveling in your relief and your pleasure.

“Mmh, there’s my good girl. You feel so good, so warm and wet for me,” Lucifer groaned in your ear. You couldn’t help the way it made you tighten around him, drawing a grunt from him as he pushed forward, and you certainly couldn’t help the gush of arousal that came forth, either.

Suddenly, he stopped as he adjusted the angle, raising your one leg up and moving closer, seemingly trying to find the right spot before resuming his thrusting. And he’d evidently found what he was looking for as his cock seemed to reach a new depth in you, pressing against a particularly sensitive spot deep within and immediately pulling out a cry from your lips.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, and you could hear the smug tone in his voice.

Whatever it was, he was relentless as he focused his thrusts towards it. Each press of his cock hit that same spot, just a little painful but overwhelmingly pleasurable. It was like he’d pressed the off button to your nerves, rendering your limbs as spaghetti as he increased his pace once again, your legs now forced apart by his own limb to keep that deep access. The sound of the bed rocking and heavy breathing filled the air, only adding to the close, sensual atmosphere.

“Ngh, Luciiii, it’s t-too deep,” you managed to say, your words stuttered by the thrusting. But Lucifer wasn’t giving any mercy, feeling the way your pussy hugged his cock told him everything he needed to know, keeping up his pace against your body.

“I know you can take it, love. You always take me so well. Just a little bit longer, we’re almost there.” True enough, the change in angle had you rocketing towards your climax now, that familiar pressure building up in your pelvis, and you found yourself rocking your hips in time with Lucifer seeking out the end. His own pace was beginning to suffer, clearly approaching his own end too, and you wanted to hold on long enough to meet that orgasmic crash together.

Right as you thought this, however, two nimble fingers found their way between your legs once more. Before you could even think to say anything, Lucifer’s fingers found your clit, soaked and throbbing for attention, and began to rub devastating circles on the sensitive nub. Any remaining thoughts scattered at once, the attention to your clit and the rough, deep thrusts all that were occupying your mind now, your climax closer than ever. It was all you could do to hold onto him for dear life, little whispers of “yes” and “please” escaping your lips as your pleasure began to peak.

At the same time, Lucifer pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his sharp canines denting your skin and threatening to break through. “Ohhhhh yes, cum with me, love, I can feel it. I want you to milk me, I’m going to fill you up so well, fill you with every drop I have. Cum with me,” he muttered, his pleas ending in a rush of words before his climax finally hit.

As he came, Lucifer bit down on your neck, holding you still as he grunted against your skin. You could feel the sudden rush of warmth deep inside, the sign of his cum painting your walls, and between all the sensations and the thought of taking his seed, it finally made your climax crash over you too. You couldn’t help the loud moan you let out, squeezing hard on your lover’s cock and milking him exactly as requested.

You were both a mass of trembling limbs as you rode out your orgasms, Lucifer’s hips gently rocking against you and working his seed deeper even as he started to soften inside you. You squirmed as it began to overstimulate you, and he finally, blessedly, stopped his movements. Your mind wasn’t yet back together, unable to say anything in the aftermath, but your demon lover seemed much the same, simply nuzzling your skin and kissing where he’d bit you.

He leaned up a little and his lips finally met yours, kissing you softly. Ideally, you knew you should get up and clean yourself up, but that delicious climax and the warmth of Lucifer’s body were calling you back to sleep. It didn’t help that your lover’s arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him like he was afraid you’d leave. As the darkness came to swallow you up, you figured, fuck it. Maybe just this once, you could indulge yourself, happy in the thought that your lover would be there to greet you tomorrow.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜

[mynicosensesaretingling]

A change of mind

Jenson Button x fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) is Hertz Team Jota‘s physiotherapist at Le Mans. However, there seems to be a mutual sense of dislike between her and Jenson Button.

warnings: none.

note: I wrote this immediately after the race ended ( state of brain is error)

Hope you enjoy x

——

The sun had just settled over the Circuit de la Sarthe, casting a golden hue across the track and surrounding pits, as the air was buzzing with anticipation for the Le Mans 24 Hours race. Teams and drivers were running through their garages, making final preparations, striving for perfection in the gruelling endurance race.

Among the sea of mechanics and engineers belonging to the Hertz Team Jota, (Y/N) stood with a confident expression on her face as she oversaw the final checks on her equipment. (Y/N) was the lead physiotherapist within the team, renowned for her innovative approach to sports medicine. Her methods were a blend of traditional techniques and cutting-edge science, a combination that had earned her respect in the male-dominated field.

Noting down some tactics, the girl was determined to ensure her drivers were in peak physical condition and ready to tackle the gruelling demands of the race.

As she checked her equipment one last time, she noticed Jenson Button, the former Formula 1 champion, making his way towards her. He was surrounded by his entourage, exuding confidence and charisma. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation. During one of her physio sessions, a fellow teammate had offhandedly mentioned Jenson's scepticism towards her rather new methods – making her silently feel offended by the fact that the former F1 driver was so quick to judge her work, without ever scheduling a session himself.

"Morning, Button," (Y/N) greeted him with a professional nod. "Morning," Jenson replied, his tone polite but guarded. "I hear you're the chosen miracle worker who's supposed to keep us in one piece for the next 24 hours."(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. "There are certainly no miracles required. All it takes is me doing my best and you trying to follow my advice, and we should get through this without any major issues." She huffed, focus falling back to her notes. Jenson smirked. "Ah, well. We'll see about that. I've been doing this a long time, you know." "I'm aware," (Y/N) replied coolly, not bothering to spare him another glance. "But endurance racing is a different beast. You'll need all the help you can get."

Jenson chuckled, though there was a hint of tension in his eyes. "I guess we'll find out soon enough." With that, he walked away, leaving (Y/N) to her preparations. Despite the clash, (Y/N) couldn’t let his scepticism distract her. The race was about to begin, and she needed to be at the top of her game.

The engines roared to life as the starting signal was given, and the cars took off, speeding down the track. The energy was electric, with fans cheering and cameras flashing. (Y/N) watched the cars disappear around the first bend, her mind already focused on the next 24 hours. This race was a marathon, not a sprint, and she knew that her role was crucial for the entire team.

The physiotherapist’s first patient was Norman Nato, another driver for Hertz Team Jota. He came in for a quick massage and some muscle taping before his stint. “How are you feeling, Norman?” she asked, her hands expertly working on his tight muscles. “A bit nervous, but ready,” he replied, wincing slightly as she applied pressure to a particularly tight spot. “You’ll do great,” she reassured him with a gentle voice. “Just remember to stay hydrated and listen to your body. If you feel any discomfort, let me know immediately.”

Norman nodded, his confidence bolstered by her calm demeanour. He quickly thanked her before being ushered back to the front of the garage. As he left to take his position, (Y/N) couldn’t help but let her eyes wander through the garage, when suddenly her ears picked up the familiar tone of Jenson's voice. “You really think a massage and some tape will do wonders for you?” the blonde’s tone wasn’t mocking rather amused, yet still annoying enough to earn an eye-roll from (Y/N) as she overheard the two drivers conversing.

Stretching her arms above her head, the woman let herself fall back into her chair, propping her legs up on a crate, as her eyes wandered to the screens displaying the Hertz Jota drivers’ vitals. “I gotta admit,” oh no, there he was again “a good old massage and a roll of tape- you’re TRULY revolutionising your field.” the sarcastic voice which previously had been at a safe distance, now was too close to her for comfort. Sighing, (Y/N) glanced up, finding Jenson leaning against the wall beside where she was sitting in her chair. “Just because my methods are rather modern, doesn’t mean I completely abandon the fundamental basics of my occupation.”

“Mhm.” the former champion hummed, arms crossed above his chest as he turned his head to look down at her. “Then I really don’t get what the fuzz is about.” His lips moved into a nonchalant pout, as he shrugged and kicked off the wall. “ Now,I’m even more certain that I am completely fine to manage without your ancient magic.” His eyes held a mischievous glint, as he glanced back at her before leaving the medical area. “God, I hope you don’t drive as unserious as you behave!” (Y/N) called after him. The rather unprofessional outburst earning her a few glances and the occasional chuckle from her fellow team mates.

Hours passed, and the race took its toll. The drivers rotated in and out of the cars, each stint pushing their physical and mental limits. (Y/N) was constantly on her feet, treating cramps, managing hydration, and applying her blend of traditional and advanced physiotherapy techniques to keep the drivers in top shape. In between treating several members of the team, (Y/N) couldn’t help but glance towards the monitor showing Jenson’s car. He was performing well, his experience evident in his smooth handling and strategic maneuvers.

Jenson’s first break came after a particularly grueling stint. Squinting at the bright lights withing the garage, he walked into the medical bay, his body language a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “Y/N,” he said, dropping into a chair. “I hate to admit it, but I think I could use some of that magic of yours.”

The physiotherapist who had previously stretching her aching muscles, stopped in her tracks and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, so now the great Jenson Button suddenly believes in my 'ancient magic'?" she replied, a hint of annoyance and sarcasm in her voice. Jenson gave her a rather tired smile in return. "I appreciate the flattery. Let's just say I'm open to trying new things." With a sigh, (Y/N) approached him, her demeanor professional but her irritation still simmering underneath her skin. "Alright, sit tight and let's get you sorted."

Jenson settled into the chair, stretching out his legs as he tried to hide the full extent of his exhaustion. Rounding the chair, (Y/N) began working on his muscles, the tension between them was almost palpable.

"You don't have to look so annoyed," Jenson muttered, wincing as she applied pressure to a particularly sore spot. "I'm not annoyed," (Y/N) replied, her tone clipped. "I'm just focused." "Right," Jenson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because you're always this charming." (Y/N) paused for a moment, her hands still on his shoulders. "Look, Jenson, I don't know what your problem is with me, but I don't have time for this right now. It’s who knows how late at night and I have a job to do, as do you." The driver sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have a problem with you. I just... I don't know. Maybe I underestimated you." "Maybe?" (Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the man’s words, resuming her work. "You're a real piece of work, Button." "Yeah, I've been told that before," he admitted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence between the pair grew more comfortable. (Y/N)'s hands moved expertly over his muscles, and Jenson found himself closing his eyes in relaxation despite his initial irritation.

"You're good at this," he said quietly, almost as if it pained him to admit it.

(Y/N) didn't look up. "I know." Jenson chuckled softly. "Confidence is key, I guess." "Confidence and skill," she corrected, finally meeting his gaze. "Which, believe it or not, I have plenty of." Jenson stared at her for a moment, a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. "I believe it," he said finally, his voice softer than she'd heard it before. "I guess I've been too quick to judge."

(Y/N)'s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work. "Apology accepted, but you're going to have to do more than just talk to prove it." He nodded, eyes darting back to the front of the garage, a determined look crossing his face. "Fair enough."

The hours of the night ticked by, the demanding weather testing everyone’s endurance. (Y/N) was a whirlwind of efficiency, moving between drivers, ensuring they were in the best possible condition to tackle their next stint. She had little time to dwell on Jenson, though she couldn’t deny a newfound respect (or was it even fondness?) for him as she watched him on the track.

During one of his breaks, Jenson found himself sitting next to the female physiotherapist yet again. "How's it going?" he asked, his tone more genuine than before. The woman shrugged, exhaustion starting to creep into her voice. "Busy. But we’re holding up."

He gave her a once-over, noticing how she kept flexing her hands and rubbing her shoulders. "You should take a break too, you know." (Y/N) scoffed. "I’m afraid the only break I’ll take , is when the race is over." Jenson shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Stubborn." "Takes one to know one," she shot back, but there was no malice in her voice.

As the night wore on, the grueling nature of the race became evident. Drivers, engineers, mechanics and several other crew members came and went, each stint pushing their physical and mental limits. Leading (Y/N)’s hands to seemingly never stop their movement, her mind laser-focused on her job.

Jenson’s final break came as the morning faded into noon. He was exhausted, every muscle in his body screaming for relief. His mind was set on autopilot to the medical area. Upon seeing him making his way over to her, (Y/N) wordlessly guided him to the chair with a gentle touch.

"Alright, Button.” she almost clapped her hands, but refrained from doing so upon remembering that some of the crew members were napping in the garage. “Let’s see what we can do," she exclaimed, her tone almost teasing.

Jenson, who was by now slumped in the chair, let out a tired laugh. "Do your worst."

The girl chuckled amused , as she stood behind him, starting to work on his neck. The former Formula 1 champion closed his eyes and let out a low satisfied hum upon feeling some of the tension leave his muscles."You know," he said, voice low,as he tilted his head to give her better access. "I never really gave you a chance. And I regret that."

Keeping her eyes trained on the movement of her fingers, she hummed. "You’re not the first one to underestimate me. But you actually might be the first to apologize."

Jenson sighed, one of his hands dragging over his face as his voice took on a sincere tone. "I mean it, (Y/N)." She paused, her hands moving from his neck to his shoulders, giving them an appreciative squeeze. "I appreciate that, Jenson. And I’ll hold you to it." He nodded, craning his neck to look up at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "Deal."

The race continued, the track conditions continiously deteriorating as the final hours ticked away. Jenson’s last stint was slowly coming to an end and (Y/N) almost felt annoyed with herself, as she caught her eyes once again wandering to the monitors in order to watch over Jenson’s vitals, as he navigated the treacherous course.

When afternoon arrived and both Hertz cars came into the pit, after successfully finishing the race, (Y/N) joined the rest of the team in gratulating the drivers outside of the garage. Despide the crash during hyperpole, Hertz Team Jota had managed to secure points by making an incredible comeback. The celebrations were loud and joyous. The happiness of her teammates infectious. She found herself surrounded by the jubilant crowd, laughter and cheers filling the air, as the adrenaline slowly started to vanish from the grounds of Le Mans.

As she was making rounds congratulating the other drivers, she spotted Jenson making his way towards her, his eyes sparkling with a mix of exhaustion and triumph, lips pulled into a satisfied grin and his hair an absolute mess.

"You did it," she cheered, her voice carrying a mix of pride and relief.

"We did it," Jenson corrected, stopping in front of her. "You were right. I needed all the help I could get." (Y/N) felt a smirk forming on her lips,as her eyes met his. "I'm glad you finally realized that. All it took was a 24 hour race to humble you." Jenson chuckled, his right hand resting above his heart as he looked down at her. "I have to admit, your methods truly worked wonders. I still feel like I owe you an apology for doubting you."

Upon hearing his genuine words,(Y/N) just waved a hand dismissively. "Let's just call it a learning experience." He nodded, his expression turning serious as he softly took hold of her arm. "I mean it, though. You kept me in top shape, and I appreciate it more than I can say."

"You're welcome, Jenson," she replied, her tone softening. "I'm just doing my job."

"Still," he insisted, "you went above and beyond. How about I make it up to you? Dinner, maybe?"

(Y/N) blinked, surprised by the offer. "Dinner?" "Yeah," Jenson said, a hopeful, almost sheepish, smile on his lips. "A chance to start over and get to know each other without all the bickering."

"Alright. Dinner it is." she accepted his offer, excited to explore where that new understanding, which had formed between the two, would take them.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 4) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake tries to talk to you, if only your family would stop getting in the way.

Series Master List

Master List

One Hour Earlier

Jake closed the door to his truck and walked up to Coyote and Phoenix’s house. They bought it during the preparations for the wedding, which definitely added to their stress level at the time, but it was nice to come home to a house that was all theirs after their honeymoon. And now Jake was reporting for painting duty. He let himself in through the side door and spotted Javy in the kitchen, putting away some random things.

“Where’s Phoenix?” Jake asked, setting his keys and wallet on the countertop.

“She went to her parent’s house for the weekend to grab some stuff and help out a bit.”

“And you promised to get a whole bunch of shit done while she was gone?” Jake guessed, gesturing to the empty boxes and random tools and materials all over the place.

“And you’re going to help me with all of that shit,” Javy replied, patting Jake on the arm. “Come on, let’s start painting.”

They walked into the spare bedroom and started cleaning out all of the shit that was shoved in there. Setting up the sheets on the ground, Javy glanced over at where Jake was pouring the paint into the tray.

“So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much,” Jake replied, turning back to the wall. “Just the same old shit.”

Javy nodded and stood up, fixing Jake with a knowing gaze. Javy and Jake had been best friends since the Academy and Javy liked to think that he knew Jake more than well enough to know when something was up with him. Good or bad. And Javy was very much aware that Jake wasn’t himself.

“How’s everything going with your relationship?”

“It’s over,” Jake replied simply. “And it wasn’t even a relationship.”

“What happened?”

Jake shot Javy a look, but Javy shot him one right back. Jake could play the whole nonchalant bullshit with everyone else, but Javy would call him out on it when he felt it was needed. And after seeing the change in Jake’s demeanor after whatever he wanted to call your relationship ended, Javy knew that he needed to call him out.

Jake picked up a roller and started to paint the wall in straight, even lines. Javy did the same, though he was still feeling out Jake at that moment. He usually just had to give Jake a little bit of time to think over it on his own before following up.

“And you’re okay?”

“No, but nothing I can do about it now,” Jake replied, a bit tensely.

“Did she block you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jake mumbled, running the roller through the paint again. “She’s been reaching out to me, but I haven’t responded.”

“Because?” Javy stressed, earning a sigh from Jake in return.

“Because what’s the point? It was never going to go public. She’d never stand up to her family about it. And we just didn’t work anymore.”

“Didn’t work with what?”

“We weren’t on the same page.”

“About?”

“For fuck‘s sake, Javy.” Jake set down the paint roller and turned to Javy, who remained calm and eyed Jake with a knowing expression. “She was acting weird before the wedding and at the reception she just blew me off, so what was even the point of all of it? It was just a waste of time for both of us.”

“Or did she hurt your feelings and you wanted to push her away to protect yourself?” Javy asked, setting down his own paint roller.

“You’re not my therapist, Javy,” Jake muttered, looking away from his best friend.

“I know I’m not. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you made the right choice when you look as miserable as you do.” Jake sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, causing Javy to soften a bit. “Jake, you were really happy when you were with her. And maybe you two grew apart and maybe you want different things in life and maybe I should just mind my own business. But just talk to her. At least figure out why she was avoiding you in the first place.”

“It was probably something with her brother or Mav,” Jake huffed, picking his head up more. “Or, hey, maybe she found a new fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t know any of that. And she’s not the type to play shit like that and you know it, Jake.” Coyote paused for a moment before adding, “Hell, maybe it was something with work or she’s dealing with some other issue and she wanted to figure it out first before telling you about it.”

“I just don’t know what would cause such a sudden change in her. I mean one minute she was fine and the next she just shut down.”

“You know how you’re going to find out?”

“How?”

“Talk to her,” Javy emphasized.

“I liked you better before you got together with Phoenix,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re acting all wise now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javy muttered, waving Jake off. “Now, be an adult and go talk to her. And, hey, maybe in a year, I’ll be your best man at your wedding.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jake sighed, getting to his feet. “And I’m holding you to it, Javy. If it’s a shitshow, you told me to start shit.”

“Get out already.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Jake grabbed his keys and wallet and headed down to his truck. Sliding in, Jake thought about how to proceed before just deciding to drive over to your apartment. If the two of you were actually going to have the conversation, he wanted it to be in person. And well she was also a little worried he would lose his confidence if he gave it too long to linger.

Parking in the lot, Jake spotted your car and made his way up the stairs to your apartment. He, however, didn’t recognize Emma’s car parked in the lot too. Stopping in front of your door, Jake knocked lightly and took a step back. He knew that you had a viewport and could see that it was him. Whether or not you opened the door was your choice.

The door opened a few moments later and Jake was rather quietly surprised at how shocked you looked when you spotted him. Why hadn’t you looked through the viewport before answering the door like you always did?

“Jake,” you breathed out nervously.

“Hey,” he replied softly, unable to prevent himself from frowning a bit at your reaction.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk about . . . everything.” Jake paused, mulling over his words before asking, “Is this a bad time?”

“Um. . . yeah, kind of,” you responded, wincing. “My brother’s here. And Mav is on his way over here right now.”

Jake’s eyes widened a fraction but before the curse could slip from between his lips, Rooster walked around the corner.

“What’s taking so long, old—Hangman?” Bradley corrected himself, very openly frowning when he spotted his teammate in the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, he’s just here to pick something up,” you lied, turning to face your brother.

“Pick up what?”

“Uh, his . . . sweatshirt,” you decided, gesturing for Jake to come inside. “He let me borrow it at the beach when Coyote and Phoenix had their thing and it got cold.”

“And he just dropped by?” Bradley asked, staring after you as you hurried to your bedroom to grab it before shooting Jake a look. “Without your permission?”

“I told him that I was going to be here,” you snapped back defensively. “It’ll be two seconds. Calm your tits.”

Hurrying into your room, you started to dig around your closet for Jake’s sweatshirt that he gave you several months ago right before he went on deployment. You wore it on multiple occasions and by now Jake’s scent had long ago disappeared from the fabric. Meanwhile, out in your living room, Jake and Bradley were in the middle of a staring contest.

“So, you were just in the neighborhood?” Rooster asked suspiciously.

“I do live in this town too, Rooster,” Jake reminded him, causing Rooster to narrow his eyes a bit.

“So,” Emma cut in, trying to control the tension, “how have you been, Hangman?”

“Peachy.”

“Here you go, Jake,” you called, hurrying over and shoving the sweatshirt into his hands before urging him towards the door. “Well, thanks for giving it to me. For that day.”

When you were only two steps away from the door, there was a sharp knock. Cursing under your breath, you glanced at Jake to see that he looked like he was readily planning to climb out the window, before turning to the door. Letting out a breath, you opened the door to reveal Maverick and Penny standing there.

“Hey, Mav, Penny,” you greeted them, trying to act normally.

“Hangman?” Maverick asked, confused.

“Maverick,” Jake returned, his face impassive though he was sweating nervously.

“He was just grabbing something,” you cut in, talking just a little too fast. Maverick looked over at you, raising his eyebrow just a bit. “And he’s leaving right now. So, uh, bye Hangman.”

“Yeah, uh, see you around.”

Jake moved past you and he was about to walk past Maverick when the older aviator stopped him from his escape.

“Where are you going, Hangman?”

“Just heading home, that’s all,” Jake stated, turning to Maverick. Scrunching up the sweatshirt you gave him, he held it up. “I’ve got some laundry to do.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Maverick offered, causing you to shake your head slightly. “And cake too, if you want. You saved my life, so it’s the least I can offer you.”

“I think he said he already has plans, Mav,” you tried to butt in.

“I’m sure the laundry can wait,” Maverick insisted kindly, though with an edge of force.

Jake shot you a slightly nervous look, to which you tried to discreetly shake your head. Penny seemed to be eyeing the exchange curiously, though you knew she sensed Maverick’s tone. You sent Jake a look to get out while he could. But then bigmouth Bradley came around the corner and decided to butt in.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can find something to talk about,” Bradley stated, leaning on the wall with his arms folded in front of him.

And Jake, sensing his rapidly approaching defeat, started to surrender.

“I don’t want to intrude—”

“—You're not,” Maverick interjected before gesturing inside your apartment. “Come on, I’m sure the food’s getting cold.”

You stood stone faced by the door as Bradley, Maverick, and Penny walked further into your apartment. Sharing a defeated look with Jake, who pulled up the rear, you shut the door and tried to calm yourself down before you turned on your heel and headed towards the table.

You found yourself sitting with Maverick on your right at the head of the table, Jake to your left looking uncomfortable as hell, and Bradley across from you with a sharp glare directed at Jake. You shared a look with Emma, who returned an apologetic grimace. Staring at the glass of wine in front of you, you simply ducked your head and stared at your plate.

“So, what caused the sudden change in location?” Maverick asked curiously.

“There was a minor problem at your place,” you replied, staring down at your plate.

“We set the oven on fire,” Bradley filled in, causing you to kick him under the table. Bradley shot you a look before turning to Maverick. “And then she threw up again and we just decided to get out of there.”

Again?

Jake glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, concern clear in his gaze. You didn’t look severely ill. Maybe a bit flushed, but not ill. So what caused you to throw up so often? And how did you just seem to bounce back if you were so sick and throwing up?

“How did the fire happen?” Maverick asked calmly, used to the back and forth between you and Bradley.

“I accidentally set the timer for too long,” Emma cut in, trying to take some heat off of you. “I walked off and it boiled over and burned.”

“Not a problem. That oven was ancient anyways,” Maverick dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I barely used it as it was.”

The family conversation continued on with an occasional pointed comment directed at Jake from Bradley, but it wasn’t too much. You seemed to be well-versed in how to deflect your brother’s questions and comments. It almost made Jake wonder why you were so cautious about him being anywhere near Rooster or Maverick with him.

“Anyone want a refill?” Penny offered, getting up from her seat.

There were a few mumbles around the table, but when Jake glanced over at your wine glass, he was a bit more than just surprised that it looked like you hadn’t touched it. Not that you had to drink the wine. But why didn’t you?

“So, Hangman,” Rooster cut in, causing Jake to turn away from you, “did you spend a lot of time together? Planning Coyote and Phoenix’s wedding and all, I mean?”

“Yeah, so what?” you snapped in Jake’s defense. “I spent a lot of time with Emma’s brother for your wedding, Bradley.”

“It was just a question,” Bradley scoffed in return.

“This is a great meal, Emma,” Penny announced louder than she needed to speak. “What restaurant did you get it from?”

“Ferrucci's down the road from here,” Emma answered, talking loud as well. “It’s really good. We should go there more often.”

“How was the wedding in your end, Hangman?” Maverick continued, getting the conversation back on track despite Emma and Penny’s attempt. “I feel like you were quite busy.”

“Yeah, I was,” Jake replied honestly.

“We didn’t see you at the after party,” Bradley added, earning a nudge from his wife.

“I was feeling under the weather. Just tired from everything,” Jake stated, staring down Bradley, not at all afraid of him.

He was slightly terrified of Maverick. But Bradley? Not even a little bit.

“Funny. That’s exactly what someone else said that night,” Bradley replied, turning to look at you. To which, you narrowed your eyes and shot your brother a warning look back. “What a weird coincidence.”

“Bradley,” you hissed, placing your hands on the table, “if you want to ask a question, just ask it. Stop being weird about it.”

“Should we cut the cake?” Emma interjected, trying to prevent a fight.

“I think we should,” Penny agreed, getting up from her seat. She called your name, causing you to look away from Bradley. “You made the cake, so you get to set up the candles and everything. Come on.”

With one last look over at your brother, you got up from your seat and walked into the kitchen with Penny and Emma. And that left Jake at the mercy of both Bradley and Maverick. Once the three of you were out of earshot, Bradley turned to Jake with a dark look.

“Are you messing around with my sister, Bagman? Because I swear to—”

“—I’m not,” Jake muttered, glaring over at Rooster. Anymore, at least. “Is that good enough of an answer for you?”

Rooster glared right back at Jake, practically screaming that no, it wasn’t good enough for him. Even though they had come a long way since the mission, it was near impossible to just get rid of years of resentment and tension in a moment. And anyone who knew Rooster well enough knew that messing around with his little sister was a sure fire way to be at high risk for getting a fist to the face.

“Bradley,” Maverick cut in, causing Jake and Bradley to turn to him, “drop it. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself.”

Maverick and Bradley had their own staring contest for a moment until Jake excused himself from the table, needing to cool down for a second. Walking down the hall and into the bathroom, Jake shut the door and let out a breath. Running a hand down his face, he sat on the toilet cover and stared at his hands.

“What the fuck did you get yourself into, Jake?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re a real big fucking idiot, you know that?”

Sighing again, Jake got to his feet and turned to walk out of the bathroom when he accidentally kicked the small trash can over. Cursing under his breath, Jake kneeled down and hurried to clean up the mess. Picking up a plastic wrapper, Jake was about to toss it back into the trash when he caught some of the text on it. Frowning, Jake smoothed out the wrapper to read it.

And he nearly passed out when he read the plastic cover.

Prenatal Vitamins

Well, that sealed the deal. Especially when he thought about Rooster’s comment about how you were throwing up all the time lately. And then he remembered the full wine glass in front of you at dinner. And well, three coincidences didn’t seem that likely. And he couldn’t exactly say that the two of you were extremely careful every time with any sort of conviction.

Jake sat there and just stared at the plastic wrap, his whole world just exploding in front of him.

Meanwhile, out in the kitchen and slightly hidden behind a half wall, you were holding your hands to your face, trying to remain calm while Emma placed the candles on the cake and Penny gave you a supportive squeeze.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Penny whispered to you, urging Emma to hurry up with the candles. “We’re just going to eat cake and Jake will leave and it’ll all be fine.”

“Why the fuck is he here? Of all fucking days,” you cursed, letting out a breath. “And I’m going to fucking kill my brother if he keeps asking stupid questions.”

“Just hold onto those thoughts for now. Focus on getting through this dinner, okay?” Penny coached you, giving you another squeeze. “You’ll be fine. You will get through this. But it is a good reminder about some conversations that you need to have, okay?”

“I know, it’s just,” you sighed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you, “they’re all going to freak out. I know it.”

“You can’t control them. Only you. And you are holding way too much on your shoulders right now. You need to tell them. Or at least one of them,” Penny whispered, causing you to nod in return.

“I know. I’m already starting to show,” you mumbled, resting a hand on your abdomen. Letting out another breath, you turned back to Penny, “Let’s just get this party over with.”

You, Emma, and Penny walked out of the kitchen with the cake and candles all set up. Singing the birthday tune for Maverick, you sat back down in your seat. You were a bit surprised that Jake wasn’t there but he seemed to slowly make his way out of the bathroom and back to the table as the song wrapped up. You laughed and clapped with everyone else as Maverick blew out the candles, though you felt Jake’s gaze burn into your back.

“Thank you, thank you,” Maverick chuckled, waving the smoke away. “We’ll, what are we waiting for? Let’s eat cake.”

“I should go,” Jake suddenly spoke, causing everyone to turn to him. He seemed to stumble over his words for a moment before adding, “Coyote texted me. I guess there’s some problem at the house.”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you if you need to go,” Penny stated, knowing that it was best to reduce the tension in the air.

Jake bid his awkward goodbyes, almost acting like he was a puppet being controlled by some higher power before he left. He didn’t or couldn’t look you in the eye about it. Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden change, you whipped around to shoot Bradley a death glare.

“What the hell did you say to him?” you demanded, causing Bradley to scoff.

“Nothing. Why do you even care anyways?”

“It’s my apartment. If you want to pick fights with people, do it at your place, not mine,” you deflected, causing Bradley to roll his eyes.

“Don’t mess around with him. I’m serious,” your brother warned you.

“And we’re cutting the cake!” Emma interjected, walking over with small plates.

The conversation was effectively over for now, but you still couldn’t help but let your mind wander. What the hell did Bradley say to Jake to freak him out like that?

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[chuunai]

hey, congrats 100 followers !! i would love to join your celebration♡ may i request beastzai (or js adazai) with the scenario married life (1) & all in all, it was a typical tuesday (8) as the prompt ?

congrats on 100 again !!!! it’s a big number and a big achievement !!

I think Dazai is really hot too.

✧˚ · . vroom vroom, than a table for two - dazai osamu

he certainly couldn’t complain.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → icky PDA, cutesy nicknames, minor mention of sex (it’s like barely there though) and overall puppy husband dazai. also obvious mentions of suicide its DAZAI

It was Tuesday.

And also another hardworking day at the Agency. So, so tiring, according to your husband—not that he ever worked—to the point where he simply needed a break with his lovely spouse. That’s how you found yourself hand-in-hand with him during your lunch break, walking down the sidewalks of Yokohama while he excitedly spoke about a new suicide method he had heard of.

Yesterday was a homemade shrapnel bomb, today was a wrecking ball.

“Basically, you hide out in a building that’s scheduled to be demolished and eventually it collapses on you! Pretty sweet, isn’t it?”

Quirking an eyebrow, he turned to you expectantly, a cheery smile on his face. It was quick, painless enough method of suicide. Beautiful in a way, too. Sunlight would be warming his skin, the air fresh and crisp and then tons of concrete and plaster would crush his entire body in one fell swoop. No pain, just gain of access to the afterlife.

Looking back at him, you sheepishly shrugged, replying back to amuse both him and yourself. 50% of the time, his attempts were idiotic and funny, the other 50% was genuinely worrying and mildly terrifying. Today seemed to be the former, though. Thankfully.

Plus, it wasn’t like the method would even work due to some random info you found out about on the internet.

“Yeah, but I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure they check the buildings for people before they demolish them. So you’d get found out.”

Your tone was as equally playful and light as his. He wouldn’t really kill himself. You weren’t ready for a double suicide yet, sadly. His lips curled into a frown when you mentioned how it wouldn’t work, his fingers squeezing yours as he exaggerated his sigh.

“And here I was, certain of my demise! Guess that means I’ll be with you a bit longer, darling.”

Not that he really minded.

Sure, he constantly went off about suicide and how beautiful the whole concept was, but at the end of the day, he wouldn’t want to die without you at his side. He’s firmly one of those people who’d kill himself after his beloved died. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself after you died. Sure, he made Odasaku a promise, but he made you a vow.

Until death do them part.

When you died, so would he.

But no one was dying today. Just a happy day for a happy couple.

Dazai’s hand slipped out of yours, curling around your hips instead as he pulled you closer to his side. He wanted to show off his pretty partner to anyone who happened to look over at you two. Show off the person who owns his heart and soul and is his perfect reason to live for just a little bit longer. No one else deserved his gorgeous belladonna.

Just him and him only.

Only Dazai could kiss your lips at any given moment—publicly or privately—, and only he could watch you dress up for dates, brushing out your hair while he mumbled compliments into the spot where your collarbone met your neck. Only Dazai could spend hours with you at night, hearing his name from your lips while his fingers intertwined with yours at the intimate moments.

No one else could hope to do the same with you.

That’s why he soon was leading you into a bakery, the smell of pastries and bread flooding the air as he looked over the treats in the display cases. Black sesame roll cakes, all squishy looking and yummy. The cookies ranging from chocolate chip to matcha and plain vanilla. They all looked so good, but the prices weren’t quite the same.

God, when it came to money, Dazai wished he was still in the Mafia. At least he had tons of it back then.

Now, he had to be a bit more frugal with his income from the Agency. Sure, you guys weren’t dirt poor or unable to afford food and other necessities, but you couldn’t always get special snacks like this. Maybe once every week or two, if you could do so.

Nudging your shoulder, he tapped the glass, looking at you expectantly. He always did this—letting you choose what the two of you would eat. Dazai didn’t mind either. You had good taste unlike his diet of canned crab and alcohol.

“I trust my lovely spouse’s taste and that you’ll pick something good like always.”

He was such a puppy. Only for you, he thought.

“Uhmm…dunno. Pick a number, one or two.”

Dazai placed a finger on his lips, pretending to be in thought like it was the most important decision in his twenty-two years of life so far. Brows furrowed in concentration, eyes darting between you and the sweet treats while he hummed quietly. One or two? Eh. He’d go with two. There was the two of you here, after all.

“Two.”

He watched as you pointed at a slice of strawberry cheesecake, your eyes looking at him for approval. Honestly, Dazai never understood why you wanted his approval for everything. You were his equal—his life partner, nonetheless—so there was really no need for this behavior. But he couldn’t blame you. Even now, he had a bit of a commanding aura.

“Oooooh, that looks good! Knew you’d pick something tasty.”

Dazai pecked your cheek affectionately while he held your hand walking to the counter, ordering two slices of strawberry cheesecake, taking out Kunikida’s credit card that he had ‘borrowed’ from the blondie earlier at work. Compared to the thievery he had committed in his younger years, it was practically begging to be used with how his wallet was smack dab in the middle of his desk.

Carefully holding the two plates of the cheesecake slices, he led you over to a table in the corner, giving you a fork as he sat down across from you. He didn’t eat until you dug into your piece first, making sounds of contentment as sweetness coated both your taste buds. Geez, it was good. Worth the price for sure. The corner of your lips were stained with the white frosting, and so he swiped his thumb over the mess, cooing at you like a parent.

“Ah ah, ‘donna. You’re getting messy.”

Dazai liked the flush of your face. How flustered you were as you insisted you could clean yourself and that you weren’t a baby and a fully capable grown adult.

“I’m not a baby, ‘samu! I can take care of myself, ‘kay?”

Of course, of course.

“Uh-huh. And you’re not a baby. You’re my baby. My clumsy little baby who can’t eat without making a mess.”

Chewing on the rest of his slice, minutes passed, filled with conversations between the two of you about work, how Atsushi was doing—probably still traumatized and fucked over, is what you both agreed about—, plans for dinner. You tastefully ignored his comment about what he wanted for dessert. At least there weren’t any kids in the bakery.

Thankfully for everyone else in the establishment, your ‘lunch’ was finished. Walking out of the cafe, he clasped onto your hand firmly, feeling his wedding ring rub against your skin. The sounds of honking and birds chirping filled the air, but all Dazai could hear were your gentle breaths coupled with the sound of your footsteps.

Nothing really mattered besides you, in his eyes.

His everything—his reason to live.

Eternally.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts

[good-griief]

Hii! Could you maybe try to write something about sexting Abby while she's at work? Thanks💗

guess whos back!!! goodness this is late but i hope you enjoy<33

For some reason, despite Abby saying she couldn’t work nights, her boss had put out a schedule where she was only working late shifts. It was early enough that it wasn’t “nights”, so she couldn’t protest, but it was late enough that she often had to stay later due to someone calling in or some tasks taking an obscene amount of time. 

She was pissed, to say the least. 

And you were missing your nights with her. 

Usually, with this new schedule, if she ran overtime she’d get home around 8:00 or 8:30, but it was getting to be 9. 

You were in bed, watching a movie when you called her. The phone rang a few times, and just as you were going to hang up and assume she was driving, she picked up. 

“I’m leaving soon,” she answered.

“Abs, you’re supposed to be done by seven. It’s—“

“I know what time it is,” she was quick to say. “I had meetings all day, so I didn’t have any time to get anything done. I’m finishing up now, okay?”

“You couldn’t have just left after your meetings?” She didn’t answer, but since sounded so stressed, voice gritted and tired, you left it alone. “Alright. Is it okay if I eat without you, then?” You asked her. “I’m getting tired.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?” You could hear her click something on her computer before her chair squeaked, the sound of her leaning back to give you her full attention. 

“I always wait to have dinner with you.” She was quiet. “How much do you have left?”

There was a faint clicking and typing in the background before she sighed. “You should eat.” You pursed your lips, your silence letting her know you were irritated. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She then hung up. 

You weren’t going to eat without her just yet, so you kept your movie on. By the time it was over, it’d been an hour with still no sign of Abby. 

That was when you decided to eat, dishing up for yourself and leaving a serving for your girlfriend before putting away the leftovers and beginning to eat. 

You fell asleep shortly after, leaving Abby to come home to a dark house and her cold meal waiting on the table. 

She brought it to bed with her, which was where she found you fast asleep.

The next morning, you woke up with no sign of Abby except for a note. 

Went in early so I could get home for dinner. 

It was brief, straight to the point, and aggravating. First, she stays after her meetings, and now she leaves early. Of course, you could tell she felt bad about missing dinner, but that was the least of your concerns. 

You were determined to make her just as frustrated as you were. 

That started with a shower. With this new schedule, you’d usually take one with her in the morning, so you didn’t want her to miss out. Which, of course, was why you brought your phone in with you, taking a video that you sent to your girlfriend before turning on music and finishing your shower. 

When Abby’s phone pinged, she knew it was you, as you were the only contact that got through her ‘do not disturb’. She had her co-worker, Manny, stop what they were doing in case it was important. 

When she immediately went red, he laughed loudly. “I take it she’s had enough of this new schedule?” He asked, raising a brow as Abby stared at her screen. “Abby—“

“Huh?” She snapped her head up. “Oh… Uh, she…” She swallowed, quickly thinking of something. “Made my favorite breakfast?”

Manny laughed even more, waving her off. “If you need to get home—“

“No, no, I’ll end up with an even shittier schedule next month.” She took another glance down at her phone before pocketing it. 

When you didn’t get the reply you wanted, you decided to keep going. There was no way she didn’t see it, which meant she was trying to ignore it, and that only egged you on. 

Another ping came from Abby’s phone during a meeting, putting the useless meeting on pause. 

“Sorry,” she said. “Girlfriend’s at home, sick,” she quickly came up with. “I should check if it’s important.” She excused herself when Isaac shooed her away, heading to the bathroom to see what you could’ve possibly sent her now. As soon as she saw the toy on the floor and your thighs on either side she closed the video. 

incoming message abby🤍

You giddily picked up your phone, only to roll your eyes.

that's enough. 

you don’t like it?

Her typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times, making you chuckle as you waited for her to compose herself. When it disappeared for several moments, you gave her a little nudge.

take your time

Almost immediately, she replied.

don’t do that. 

you know what you do to me…

i can’t even watch those right now baby. i won’t be able to focus.

You had a feeling that all she was doing was watching those videos. Especially with how long she took to respond to you.

focus on me then

i need you right now

you know if i could come home i would...

this isn’t fair. 

what isn’t fair?

don’t do this right now. 

Her next message made you smile, knowing you had her wrapped around your finger if she really left a meeting to check what she knew would be a distraction.

i’m in the middle of a meeting. 

Just as she went to put her phone away, it chimed again. 

i missed you this morning abs. 

woke up alone. 

that wasn’t very fair to me. 

Again, she typed and stopped. You figured she was trying not to start something while she was taking a "bathroom break" during a meeting, but you knew she'd never not reply to you.

i’ll make it up to you. 

i have to go now angel. 

but when?

tonight. 

promise. 

i want you now

need you

Her short messages made you squeeze your thighs, knowing she was pent up and forcing herself not to respond the way she wanted to.

baby

come on

i can’t do this right now

So, you took the opportunity to make her have to do this now.

please? nothing makes me feel like you do

i’m so wet and i can’t fucking finish abs.. not without you

i need you

how many times will you make me say it? i’ll beg if you want me too abby please

It took her a little while to respond, making you think she'd either shut off her phone, or you took too long to type and she went back to her meeting.

In reality, she'd gone back some time ago, and was incessantly checking her phone while crossing her legs under the table.

She had the tendency to try and challenge herself, but clearly this— you were too much for her.

fuck okay

i’ll try to get home

just give me a few minutes 

you can wait for me can’t you?

She was quick to tell everyone how you needed her at home, leaving her friends to laugh in their seats as she excused herself while keeping an eye on her phone.

just tell me what to do

you don’t even have to come home

i’ll show you everything 

i’ll be good

be good and wait for me to come home. 

there’s no way i’m letting you touch yourself if i’m not there to watch. 

[pendarling]

Icecream

Henchman looked around the tall home, a chandelier staring down from the ceiling and a line of windows overlooking the city below as the night rolled in. Its appearance was an over-glorified perception of Villain's work as one of Supervillain's favourite criminals. Then again, Villain had done a lot of heists and had an intangible thirst for money; their home, if they could even call it that, was simply a reflection of their work. Other than giving the same energy as any classic magazine cover home, it was generally welcoming.

Their eyes scanned the marble tables as their shoes clicked softly against the delicately tiled floors set in perfect wax, offering a clean shine that didn't surprise Henchman one bit.

Impressed, their cool gaze returned its focus to Villain, who leaned against a pillar, fanning themselves with a piece of paper and occasionally taking a sip from the can of beer in their hand. Everything was too fancy for someone so evil as them. Then again, it was a nice contrast.

"You want one? It's awfully hot during this time of year."

"I don't drink." They replied.

Villain nodded, "Oh, I get it, you like to eat cold things. Something shitty like ice cream, right?"

They sighed; idle talking wasn't what they came here for. "You're tasks haven't been challenging enough." Henchman began, searching for the smirk that often riddled Villain's face when they were confident in themselves. However, instead Villain gave them a calm look of boredom, and a small shrug.

"Maybe I'm just too competent for you. Supervillain would know."

Henchman gathered their hands together and walked slowly; the wide room void of any life presented an odd sense of eerieness that wasn't often felt. They tentatively sat on the pale couch; its decorative pillows stayed stiffly on either side. "You're surprisingly cleaner than I expected." They murmured.

Even the glass coffee table had remained nearly untouched, offering a crystal clear view of the soft white carpet with only a small pot of randomly assorted plastic plants posing inside resting atop the table.

Villain took a deep breath and nodded slowly, "I try not to mix my personal life with my work life." They circled from behind the couch and sat on the armrest, "So what're you doing seeing me at such a late hour? I hope you're not here for just a talk, I'm not a very good listener."

Henchman should've laughed, but it wasn't funny, was it? After all, they didn't just come here for simple chatter. If they could, they'd wait until tomorrow, and besides, Henchman didn't know Villain well like they did with most other villains working under their boss. "It's something urgent."

"If it was urgent, why wasn't it the first thing you said as soon as you entered?"

Henchman could feel it without even glancing beside them. That awful smirk Villain did when something had piqued their interest. "I lost track of thought… I guess being in such a large mansion startled me at first."

Villain remained silent as they leaned back.

"Anyway, one of our compounds had been raided by the heroes about an hour ago."

"Which one?' Villain said, their back straightened.

"Don't worry, it's not one of yours, but it's the one on 78th street. Supervillain knew your followers like to hang around on the 81st and I just wanted to tell you to tell your goons it isn't safe around that entire district anymore."

"Fuck."

Villain stood, breathing in heavily with a frustrated expression Henchman had only seen when Villain was off fighting. They reached for their phone and dialled a number.

"Are you calling them?"

"Of course I'm fucking calling them!" They angrily flailed an arm and turned around, waiting impatiently for the other line to pick up. "I can't have my men getting arrested for getting drunk."

Henchman stood up as Villain took the call, barking orders at his underlings on the other side to get going.

They stared at the empty walls, clean of any sign of aging; the generic photographs of colourful shapes and some of nature did little to offer hope to the room. Henchman slowly made their way into the kitchen; clean whites clashed with soft greys and sharp blacks. In the sink, a single spoon, they tilted their head curiously. It looked like Villain could get a little messy sometimes, though this was very minuscule. Henchman turned their attention to the cabinets. They wondered if Villain had even organized each plate from biggest to smallest or categorized them by material.

They laughed softly and opened it; their eyes widened with an unforeseen turn of events. Not one plate was symmetrically aligned nor was it in order of colour or whatever they had wanted to see. It seemed like Villain's perfectionist image only existed from the outside.

Their hands wander to the fridge, stuffed stock full of foods they weren't even sure if one person could finish. Perhaps spending money was just easier than saving it all. Henchman opened the freezer, Villain's voice abruptly becoming louder as they continued switching from demanding to concerned.

"Ice cream?"

Henchman reached in. Its red and pink colour pulled them in closer.

"I thought…" They turned the pint of cream in their hands; the ice on the surface of its plastic exterior melted in the palms of their hands into cold drops of water. Henchman frowned. Either Villain was secretly a fan of ice cream, or this was all an elaborate joke.

"Henchman!" Villain shouted from the other room. They struggled to shove the pint back into the fridge and rub their hands free of the cold liquid.

They hurried back into the living room, fixing their uniform along the way. They had to be grateful the long corridors offered Henchman enough time to calm themselves. "Yes?"

"Stop snooping around and get the fuck outta my house."

Henchman waited for the words to settle in and nodded absently, their mind still wondering about the pint of ice cream sitting in their freezer. It didn't seem all too big of a deal, but it wasn't until Henchman gathered the morning newspaper for Supervillain that something had caught their eyes.

An advertisement bright and bolded around the front page of a news article in its designated corner alongside other words scattered around the page.

Strawberry cheesecake icecream, a personal favourite of Hero's.

~~~

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[panakinthedisco]

ALL TOO WELL  ━━ Javier Peña x reader

summary: it had been two years since the last time you've seen Peña and you only wanted to reach out as a friend.

author's note: this is my first time posting in here so many apologies if you've come up some typos or wrong grammar, english is not my first language.

content warning: implied smut but just overall angst! and ohhh boy, you're in for some treat. reader is AFAB and in late twenties.

word count: 6k

It's a horrible decision, to say the least.

The purpose of reaching out is to give yourself some closure with him. Also, there's that remaining piece of yourself from two years ago – that immature woman who fell head over heels for him and agreed to be in a set-up. But then you view him as a friend, a confidant, and you keep repeating to yourself that you view him as a friend – nothing else.

You initiated a call to him one afternoon at his office. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked with him, but you know it was two years ago when Messina offered you to work with her to the office of the U.S. Embassy. There was no hesitation when you called their number, and you were surprised that you still remembered it.

“Peña speaking. Who is this?”

His voice caught you off guard, but you responded, “Hi, Javi.”

You could feel that he was also speechless when he heard you at the other end of the line. It might have been too long for both of you.

“Hey there! I haven’t heard from you in a while. Nor have I seen your pretty face around here, cariño.”

You laughed at his endearment. Peña was still a smooth talker – some things never change. For you, maybe it’s okay to relive the nostalgia of yesterday. You replied simply, still grinning, “I’ve been awfully busy with Messina, Javi. Trying to keep up with her. But overall, I’m doing well.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. You’re the only one in Colombia who can tame Messina,” he chuckled.

You laughed again, feeling a wave of warmth. “I just wanted to check on you,” you admitted. “I miss you, Javi.”

There was a pause, and then Peña's voice came through, softer. “Why don’t we meet at Bodega de Abasto this evening?”

You were taken aback. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s alright,” he assured you. “I want to see you.”

His comment made your heartbeat faster, but you shrugged it off. “Okay, after work then.”

“Perfect. See you there,” Javier replied, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice.

“See you,” you said, hanging up the phone with a mix of nerves and excitement.

You were transported back to the days when you worked with the DEA detectives, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña. Assigned with Messina to file reports for the Pablo Escobar case, you often found yourself in the same office as the two men. Steve treated you fairly and exhibited an impressive professionalism that you admired. His dedication and focus were something you aspired to emulate.

Meanwhile, Javier was different. He was flirty and usually chatty with you, making the long hours in the office more bearable. The interactions at the office soon transitioned to casual drinks at a local bar and quick smoke breaks during lunch. These moments blurred the line between colleagues and friends.

One evening at the bar, the dim lighting and soft hum of conversations created a relaxed atmosphere. Javier was telling a story, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and you found yourself laughing more freely than you had in a long time.

"You know," you said, taking a sip of your drink, "I've never been in a serious relationship. Never even had a boyfriend."

Javier looked at you, his surprise evident. "Really? How come?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit vulnerable. "I guess I never found the right person. Or maybe I was too focused on my work."

He nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette. "You're young. You have time."

There was a moment of silence, the kind that felt charged with unspoken thoughts. You broke it, curious about him. "Have you ever had feelings for someone?"

Javier's expression turned serious. "I did, once. But I'd prefer not to talk about it."

Despite your countless conversations with Peña, he remained enigmatic. You decided not to press him further.

Out of the blue, Javier leaned closer. "Have you ever been intimate with a man?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "No, I haven't. I've always been curious about it."

Javier's eyes darkened with intensity. "What if we had a friends with benefits arrangement? No strings attached and view this as lessons."

You were taken aback by his suggestion, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. "You seem awfully confident," you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. But Javier wasn't laughing or teasing. Your smile faded as you realized his seriousness. "Are you... serious?"

"I'm being serious," he replied, his voice steady and eyes unwavering.

You stared at him, heart pounding, unsure of what to say next. You thought for a second and realized that you had always been comfortable with Javier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to do it with the only person you recognized as a friend in the DEA. Besides, it seemed harmless.

Before you could speak, you didn't notice that Javier had already moved closer, his presence overwhelming. You could smell his masculine perfume mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes. He reached out and gently tucked an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, making you look at him. His touch sent a shiver down your spine.

"So, are you still interested in my offer?" he asked, his voice low and compelling.

You bit your lip, trying to think clearly, but it was hard with him so close. You didn't notice that Javier's gaze had dropped to your lips, watching your every movement.

"I’m not sure, Javi" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Javier's eyes met yours again, his expression unwavering. "Your eyes say otherwise."

The gravity of his words hung between you, the air thick with anticipation. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you were lost in the intensity of his gaze, wondering what your answer would mean for both of you.

"I need to think about it," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

Javier leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. "Think about it all you want," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "But you won't be able to forget this."

His breath on your ear made you lose any logical reasoning, and Javier knew the effect he had on you. He was enjoying every second, watching you become flustered and shy. He knew you were always expressive and quite a spitfire, and seeing this side of you was thrilling.

"You'll forget all about the paperwork," he murmured, his lips brushing your earlobe.

You still couldn't speak, the words caught in your throat. You could feel his hand on your thigh, slowly sliding up above your knee. The tight pencil skirt you were wearing did nothing to impede his touch, making every movement even more electrifying.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked suddenly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You swallowed hard and whispered, "Yes."

"Good girl," Javier whispered, his lips grazing your neck. He kissed your skin softly, and you elicited a small moan as his teeth scraped gently along your neck, followed by the warm, wet sensation of his tongue.

You closed your eyes, your breath hitching as he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation that left you trembling. Javier's hand on your thigh moved slightly higher, and you could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of your skirt.

His lips found a particularly sensitive spot, and you couldn't help but moan softly again, your body responding to his every touch. Javier pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your body aching for more of his touch. The look in Javier's eyes was filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction, knowing he had you right where he wanted.

"Just say the word, cariño" he murmured, his hand still resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "And I'll make you forget everything else when I fuck you hard on my bed." Javier's lips continued to explore your neck, sending waves of sensation through your body. You were flustered and caught off guard by the intensity of his touch and the profanity of his suggestion.

You managed to find your voice, albeit shakily. "But what if my lack of experience... disappoints you?"

Javier paused and pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. He laughed softly, a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter. Gently, he kissed your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment.

"Don't think of it like that," he said, his voice soothing and reassuring. "Think of it as a lesson from a friend."

His words made you feel slightly more at ease, though the anticipation and nerves still thrummed beneath the surface. Javier's hand moved from your thigh, and he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek.

"I'll take care of you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I promise."

His reassurances made you feel a mix of relief and excitement. Javier leaned in again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. You could feel the intensity behind it, a promise of what was to come.

As you kissed, his hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you close. You responded, your own hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles through his shirt. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into him, your worries and doubts fading away with each passing second.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless and slightly dizzy from the intensity of it all. Javier's eyes were dark with desire, but there was also a softness there, a gentleness that reassured you.

"Trust me," he said softly. "We'll take it slow. You'll be fine."

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. Javier's confidence and care made you believe that maybe, just maybe, this was something you could do. Something you wanted to do.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice steadying. "I trust you."

Javier smiled, his thumb still brushing your cheek. "Good. Now, let's get out of here before I rip your skirt in here.” 

You laughed and before you knew it, you’re in his apartment and his large hands are all over your body. 

Over the next few months, you and Javier had many meet-ups, most often at his apartment. Your first time with him was sweet, slow, and passionate, making your toes curl and leaving you breathless. Javier had been patient and tender, guiding you through each moment with a softness that made you feel cherished.

But as time went on, your "lessons" became rougher, more intense. Javier pushed your boundaries, exploring new heights of pleasure. His intensity was intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the raw passion you shared. The intensity of your sessions grew to the point where even his neighbors started complaining, a testament to the volume of your screams and the fervor of your encounters.

Yet, what you loved most was the aftermath of these so-called lessons. The moments when the storm of passion had passed, and you lay in his arms, both of you breathing heavily, spent and sated. Javier was always gentle afterward, pulling you closer to him, his touch soft and reassuring.

One particular evening, you found yourselves wrapped up in each other on his bed. The room was dimly lit, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air. Your body still tingled from the intensity of your latest encounter, and you nestled closer to Javier, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

"You're amazing, you know that?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. "You make me feel amazing," you replied, your voice soft.

He chuckled softly and kissed your forehead. "I meant what I said. No strings attached, but I want you to feel good. I want you to enjoy this."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. Despite the roughness of your physical interactions, Javier's care and tenderness afterward made you feel deeply connected to him.

"I do enjoy it," you admitted. "But I think what I enjoy most is this... being close to you."

Javier's eyes softened, and he tightened his hold on you. "Me too," he murmured.

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. The passionate encounters were exhilarating, but it was the quiet, intimate moments like this that truly made your connection with Javier special.

As you lay there in his arms, wrapped in the warmth and comfort of the moment, a thought crossed your mind. You hesitated for a moment before voicing it, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Javi," you began softly, "have you been seeing other women despite our set-up?"

He looked down at you, his expression serious for a moment before he shook his head. "No, I haven't," he admitted honestly. "What about you? Have you been seeing other men?"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "No, I haven't. My dating pool isn't that good. Besides, I think I prefer this kind of set-up. The relationship aspect isn't there, just sex. And to think about it, it's less stressful for me."

Javier laughed, a deep, hearty sound that made you smile. "You're thinking like a man," he joked.

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. "That's the best compliment I've ever gotten from you," you said before leaning in to kiss his lips for a brief, tender moment.

He smiled against your lips, his arms tightening around you. "Well, I mean it."

You rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. The simplicity and honesty of your arrangement brought you comfort. Time passed, and your relationship with Javier deepened in unexpected ways. You found yourself frequently staying at his apartment, sometimes for a day or two. His place became a second home to you, a sanctuary away from the pressures of your everyday life.

You often wore his shirts while cooking meals in his kitchen, the oversized fabric making you feel enveloped in his presence even when he wasn't around. The scent of his cologne clung to the cotton, a comforting reminder of the man who had become such an integral part of your life.

Despite the nature of your arrangement—just friends with benefits—you began to feel a deeper connection to Javier. Your physical intimacy was unparalleled, but it was the quiet moments in between that started to mean the most to you. Sharing a laugh over breakfast, watching movies together, or simply lying in bed talking about anything and everything.

However, there was always a part of Javier that felt distant. He still had walls around him, remnants of his past that he kept guarded. Sometimes, even in his arms, you felt like he was miles away. He was always near physically, but emotionally, he remained somewhat elusive.

One evening, you were wearing one of his shirts, cooking dinner while he sat at the kitchen table, watching you. The comfortable silence between you was punctuated only by the sounds of the sizzling pan and the occasional clink of utensils.

"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I really enjoy spending time here. It feels... peaceful."

Javier looked at you, his expression softening. "I enjoy having you here," he admitted. "You make this place feel less empty."

As Javier's words hung in the air, admitting that you made his place feel less empty, a warmth spread through you that made your cheeks flush. You quickly looked away, hoping to hide your blush, but Javier noticed the sudden change in your demeanor.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Is there something on your mind?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This was it, the moment you had been avoiding but couldn't deny any longer.

"I... I've been meaning to tell you something," you began, your voice trembling slightly. Javier's gaze was steady on you, waiting for your words. "I... I have feelings for you."

For a moment, Javier didn't speak. His expression was unreadable, and a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You could sense that he didn't feel the same way.

After what felt like an eternity, you let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off. "Forget about it," you said quickly, looking down at your hands. "It's nothing. I shouldn't have said anything."

Javier remained silent, and the weight of his unspoken response hung heavily in the air. You felt a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, wishing you could take back your words.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the need to fill the silence. "I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"No," Javier finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "It's not that."

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes softened, and you could see a hint of regret in them.

"I care about you," he began slowly, his words carefully chosen. "But... I think we both knew from the start that this was... different."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yeah, I know," you replied, forcing a small smile. "No strings attached, right?"

Javier reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and comforting. "You mean a lot to me," he said sincerely. "I don't want to lose what we have."

You nodded again, trying to hide the ache in your heart. "I understand," you said softly. "I don't want to lose it either."

Then, as the night wore on during the outing with your co-workers, the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and camaraderie. Sitting among them, you felt a pang of guilt and uncertainty gnawing at you. Finally, you decided to confide in your friends about your complicated arrangement with Javier.

"I've been sleeping with Javier for quite some time" you admitted hesitantly, taking a sip of your beer. "But lately, I've been thinking..."

Immediately, the reactions were swift and unanimous. "You should cut it off," one of your co-workers chimed in. "Friends with benefits never end well."

Another nodded in agreement. "You deserve someone who's all in, not just when it's convenient for him."

Their words resonated with you, stirring doubts you had been trying to suppress. Maybe it was time to move on, to explore something more meaningful.

As the night progressed, one of your co-workers encouraged you to mingle with other men. They introduced you to a handsome and intelligent forensic scientist from another department. He was charming, witty, and genuinely interested in getting to know you. You found yourself enjoying his company, easily connecting over shared interests and stimulating conversations.

In the weeks that followed, you began dating the forensic scientist. He was attentive, making you feel valued and appreciated in a way you hadn't felt with Javier. Your dates were filled with laughter, intellectual discussions, and a growing sense of companionship.

Despite your new relationship, thoughts of Javier lingered in the back of your mind. You hadn't been to his apartment in months, choosing instead to focus on building something with your new date. The absence of late-night visits and shared moments with Javier felt like a significant shift.

Then one day, as you scrolled through your phone, you realized something unsettling. Javier hadn't reached out to you in weeks, not even a casual text or call to check in. The realization hit you hard — he hadn't bothered to ask where you were or how you were doing. It was as if your absence didn't matter to him — and the thought that he’s seeing other women. 

The pang of hurt mixed with disappointment weighed heavily on your heart. You had hoped for some acknowledgment, some sign that maybe he cared more than he let on. But now, faced with the silence, you can't deny the truth.

You sighed, setting your phone down and taking a moment to collect your thoughts. Perhaps it was time to accept that Javier's feelings, or lack thereof, were clear. Despite the bond you had shared, it was evident that you were more invested than he was.

With a heavy heart, you knew what you had to do. It was time to prioritize your own happiness and move forward, whether that meant focusing on your new relationship or simply letting go of the ties that bound you to Javier.

But you were stubborn and wanted to see him for the last time. You came to his apartment uninvited and as you stood outside Javier's apartment door, your heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Despite trying to move on, thoughts of him had been persistent, haunting your thoughts and dreams. You couldn't deny that you still cared deeply for him, despite everything.

Raising your hand to knock, you froze. Through the thin walls, you heard a woman's voice — loud, desperate, and filled with passion. Your heart sank as realization dawned on you. You knew exactly what that sound meant.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. Without a word, you turned away from the door, your footsteps heavy and slow as you walked down the hallway. Each step felt like a weight on your chest, a crushing reminder of what you had hoped wasn't true.

Outside, the tears began to flow freely, unchecked and unashamed. You didn't care about the people passing by, their curious glances or whispered remarks. All you could feel was the ache in your chest, the betrayal of your own feelings, and the harsh reality of Javier's priorities.

How could you have been so blind? You had clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you. But now, faced with the truth, it was clear that you had been fooling myself.

Sitting on a nearby bench, you buried your face in your hands, letting the sobs wrack your body. It wasn't just the pain of seeing him with someone else; it was the realization that you had allowed yourself to fall so deeply for someone who couldn't offer you what you needed.

Memories flooded your mind — the laughter, the passion, the quiet moments shared in his apartment. They all felt like a cruel joke now, mocking your naivety and vulnerability.

Eventually, the tears subsided, leaving you drained and hollow. You wiped your cheeks, taking a deep, shuddering breath. It was time to accept the truth and find the strength to let go.

As you walked away from Javier's building, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter, if only slightly. The pain was still raw, but somewhere amidst the heartache, you found a glimmer of resolve. You deserved more than half-hearted moments and unspoken promises. It was time to heal and rediscover your worth, far away from the echoes of his door and the echoes of your shattered heart.

As you entered the restaurant in your sleeveless red dress and black heels, the ambiance of flickering candles and soft music caught you by surprise. You scanned the room nervously until you spotted him, sitting at a table looking remarkably dapper and he’s not in his usual leather jacket. Javier's surprised expression mirrored your own as you approached, a mix of confusion and intrigue evident in his eyes.

"Hey," You greeted him with a smile, trying to hide your uncertainty. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was horrendous."

He stood up, pulling out the chair for you with a gallant gesture. "No worries at all," he reassured you, his voice warm and sincere. "I don't mind waiting a little longer, especially when my date is beautiful."

His use of the word "date" caught you off guard, sending a jolt of mixed emotions through you. Javier had never referred to your time together in such a way before. Despite your deep connection, you had always maintained a casual understanding.

"Thank you," You replied softly, sinking into the seat he offered. "This is... unexpected."

He nodded, his gaze searching for mine. "I wanted tonight to be special," he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "For us."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of hope in your chest, a tentative excitement mingled with apprehension. As you sat there, the soft glow of the candles casting gentle shadows across his face, he’s still the attractive DEA agent. 

The ambiance of the restaurant enveloped as you sat down, ordering your meals and exchanging polite conversation. Javier's usual charm was accompanied by a touch of something more earnest tonight, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and nervous anticipation.

As we waited for your food to arrive, Javier leaned forward slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "So, how have you been?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled, appreciating his genuine interest. "I've been okay," you replied honestly. "Actually, things didn't work out with the forensic scientist."

Javier raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Really? I thought you two were hitting it off."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Turns out, we weren't as compatible as I thought."

He nodded, understanding. "It happens."

Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to ask him the question that had been lingering in your mind. "And what about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

Javier's expression turned slightly guarded, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "No," he answered simply. "I'm not."

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his response, a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Come on, Javi," You teased lightly. "I find that hard to believe. You're telling me there's no one?"

He leaned back, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's true," he insisted. "No one."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical yet intrigued by his answer. "No one at all?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. "After our... arrangement ended," he began slowly, "I didn't go back to the brothel."

His admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You hadn't expected such honesty from him, especially about something so personal.

An awkward silence settled between Javier and you, thick with unspoken emotions and uncertainties. Just as the tension threatened to become unbearable, the waiter arrived at your table, offering a welcome distraction.

"Good evening, are you ready to order?" the waiter asked, smiling politely.

Both of you quickly placed your orders, grateful for the brief respite from the heavy silence. Once the waiter left, you couldn't shake the feeling that reaching out to Javier tonight might have been a mistake. The ease and familiarity you once shared seemed distant, replaced by a palpable tension.

You had hoped to reconnect, to rekindle the friendship you had before things became complicated. But now, sitting across from him, you realized how much your dynamic had changed. Accepting his offer to be in a friends-with-benefits setup had seemed like a good idea at the time, a way to explore without the pressure of a committed relationship. But it had only served to blur the lines and complicate your supposedly friendship with him. 

The regret gnawed at you, and you wondered if you had damaged something precious beyond repair. It was this confusion and discomfort that had driven you to accept Messina's offer to work with her at the embassy. Distance had seemed like the only way to escape the tangled web of emotions and regain some clarity.

"I've missed this," Javier said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "Just talking to you."

His words tugged at your heart, reminding you of the easy camaraderie you used to share with him. "I've missed it too," you admitted, forcing a small smile. "Things just got... complicated."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and regret. "Yeah, they did."

You took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. "I never wanted things to get so tangled between us. I value our friendship, Javi. More than anything."

He reached across the table, his hand covering yours. The warmth of his touch sent a familiar jolt through you, a reminder of the connection you once had. "I value it too," he said sincerely. "It has never been the same when you’re no longer in the apartment.” 

You couldn't help the bitter thought that crossed your mind. It stung to think about the months that followed, knowing he had started seeing other women. The memory of hearing someone else in his apartment that day was still fresh, a reminder of the emotional distance that had grown between you and him. 

It always been easy for him and that fucked you up immensely. Maybe you’re just another whore for him that he can easily bed. 

Listening to him, you maintained a neutral expression, even as your heart ached with unresolved feelings. "I looked for you," Javier continued, his tone softer. "After you left the DEA, I heard you were working with Messina. I wondered if you left because of me."

You forced a smile, trying to mask the hurt that still lingered. "Messina offered me a higher salary," you said lightly, hoping to divert the conversation from the painful truth.

Javier's eyes searched yours, as if trying to see beyond your words. "Is that all it was?" he asked quietly.

You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to lay all my emotions bare. "It was a good opportunity," you replied, your voice steady but lacking conviction. "And I needed a change."

He nodded slowly, though the doubt in his eyes remained. "I miss you," he said simply, the vulnerability in his voice making my heart clench.

You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle between us. "I miss you too," you admitted softly. "But things got so complicated."

"Complicated is an understatement," he muttered, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "I never wanted to push you away."

As Javier's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you and him. Tears began to form in your eyes, and you couldn't hold them back any longer. The emotions you had tried so hard to suppress came rushing to the surface.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" You finally spoke, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid.

Javier was silent at first, his expression unreadable. The sight of tears streaming down your cheeks seemed to catch him off guard. He reached out, but hesitated, as if unsure how to bridge the distance between you and him.

Seeing your tears, he knew he had hurt you deeply. "I..." he started, but the words seemed to stick in his throat.

"You should have told me how you felt," You continued, your voice breaking. "Instead, you made everything so confusing between us."

Javier's silence spoke volumes. He looked at you, regret and sorrow etched into his features. You wiped the tears from your cheek, feeling a mix of anger and sadness.

"If you had told me these things," You said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I would have stayed."

The weight of your words seemed to hit him hard. He looked away for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

Javier's eyes softened as he took a deep breath, his hand still holding yours. "I wanted to see you," he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. "No matter where I was or what I was doing, I thought about you. A year ago, I even went to the embassy to see you. I was standing outside your office, but I left before I could knock. I felt like there was nothing left to say, like I had already lost my chance."

Fighting back tears, you met his gaze. "I visited you too," you admitted, voice shaking. "It was two years ago, one afternoon. I stood outside your door, but I heard... a noise. A woman was with you. I walked away and cried, right there on the street."

Javier's expression shifted to one of shock and regret. "I had no idea," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours. "I'm so sorry."

Your frustration and annoyance boiled over, mingling with the sadness you had been holding in for so long. "You made me feel special, Javi," you said, voice rising. "You made me feel like you cared, like maybe you loved me — maybe a little bit. But it was never easy for me. While for you, it seemed so easy to find a new replacement."

His face fell, the weight of your words settling heavily on him. For a moment, he was speechless, staring at you with a mixture of pain and regret. "It was never easy for me either," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought about you every day. I cared for you more than I ever let on. I was just too scared to admit it."

You shook your head, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. "You should have told me," you said, your voice breaking. "We could have figured it out together. Instead, we just hurt each other."

Javier reached out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. "You're right," he admitted. "I should have told you. I should have been honest about my feelings. I was a fool for letting my fear control me."

As Javier's hand brushed against your cheek, wiping away your tears. Even after all those years, your mind and body still betray Javier's gentle touch and suddenly, you felt a rush of emotions. It was as if the feelings you had kept dormant for so long were suddenly awakening, breaking free from the cocoon you had placed them in. You reached up and gently touched his hand, slowly moving it away from your face.

"This was a mistake," You said softly, trying to steady your voice. "Calling you, coming here. It was all a mistake." You began to reach for my purse, intending to leave and escape the whirlwind of emotions.

But before you could stand, Javier grasped my wrist firmly, stopping me in my tracks. "Please," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Don't go."

You let out a mocking laugh, though more tears threatened to spill from my eyes. "Why now, Javi? Why say these things to me now?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions.

He looked at your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. "What's your real intent in seeing me?" he asked quietly, his grip on your wrist is gentle but unyielding.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I wanted to see my friend," I said, my voice trembling. "I missed my friend." “Bullshit.” He tells you. Fury is already evident in your already teary eyes. "If you don't believe me," you replied, "then there's no point in staying."  You pulled your hand from his grip, grabbed your purse, and left the restaurant.

As you walked down the sidewalk, the evening air cool against your flushed cheeks,  and heard rapid footsteps behind you. Before you could react, Javier caught up and stood in front of you, breathing heavily.

"You still have feelings for me," he blurted out, his eyes searching for yours.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Your ego is still the same, Javi."

"Why do you keep fighting what you truly feel?" he demanded, his tone a mix of desperation and anger.

"I'm tired, Javi," You admitted, your voice breaking. "I'm tired of running around, pretending that with every man I date, every man I sleep with, I don't think about you. But I do. Every single time. I feel like an idiot."

His expression softened, and he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "You're not an idiot," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry if I made you feel that way."

"You don't get it," You replied, my voice shaking with emotion. "I needed you to be honest with me. To tell me how you felt. But instead, you let me believe that I was just another woman in your life."

Javier's eyes filled with regret, and he reached out, gently taking your hand. "I know I messed up," he said softly. "I was scared of a lot of things, so I kept my feelings to myself. But I never stopped caring about you. Never."

You looked away, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall again. "It doesn't change the fact that you hurt me," you whispered.

"I know," he replied, his voice raw with emotion. You stood on the middle of the sidewalk, the world around you a blur as your eyes stayed locked on Javier. Slowly, he walked toward you. You wanted to run, to escape the whirlwind of emotions, to escape from him but you were glued on your spot. 

Before you could think rationally, his hand was on your cheek, warm and gentle. As it felt like you’re coming home. 

"It might be too late for me," he said softly, "but when you called earlier, I thought maybe it was a sign. A second chance to make things right. I'm gambling on it now, no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as his words sank in. Javier leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly, then wrapped his arms around you. You cried into his chest, the weight of your shared past and your unresolved feelings crashing down on you like a tidal wave. 

"Please," he murmured into your hair. "Can we start over?"

You took a shuddering breath, your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. The vulnerability in his voice, the genuine regret, and the longing mirrored your own feelings.

"One step at a time," You whispered, my voice breaking. "But we have to be honest with each other."

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of hope and determination. "I promise," he said. "No more hiding how we feel. We'll take it slow and figure it out together."

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, both of you could find your way back to each other. It wouldn't be easy, and it would take time, but with Javier's earnest words echoing in your heart,you felt a spark of hope that both of you could rebuild what you and Javier had lost.

"Okay," you said softly, wiping away the last of your tears. "Let's start over."

Javier smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart ache with the possibility of what could be. As both of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you felt a tentative hope blossom within you.

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