#hes just in the back in plain sight LMAO

[khai-pandius]

old art finished this up after the queen died and I was lowkey unaware of it

[vaaaaaiolet]

You take it upon yourself to spice up your husband's work lunches at Rebecca's encouragement, and Leon nearly dies in the process. Is Hello Kitty really a killer? Leon, for one, is convinced she's up to no good.

f / m, you're married to older leon!, crack treated seriously, fluff, slice of life, the dso is just one big happy family because i said so, bento boxes and happy ending but maybe not for chris (i still love my peanut buster king)

word count: 1.4k // read on ao3

a/n: inspired by rrcherrypie's hello kitty bento box video that i watched religiously as a kid. this entire fic is a shitpost tbh LMAO this is my government mandated apology for a story where no one goes anywhere <3 go check it out if you haven't yet!

Ever since his cop days, Leon’s learned that you can’t trust anyone whose hands aren’t in plain sight and well, Hello Kitty’s emblazoned face staring up at him from the kitchen counter doesn’t exactly have hands. Or arms.

Leon scrunches his nose at her and opts to wrap his own arms around your waist instead.

“Doll.”

“Hm?” 

Leon lines the side of your neck with kisses as carrot coins and cucumber slices fall serenely away at your knife. 

“Whatcha doin’?” he prods.

You neatly sweep the vegetables into the Hello Kitty bento box and give your attention-hungry husband a kiss to tide him over, but it’s not quite enough to satiate. Octopus sausages stare back at him with pointy sesame seed eyes, and Leon grows more unsettled by the minute.

He’s done playing nice; gives your hip a pinch. “Come on, you’re killing me here. What’s with all the arts and crafts?”

“Now, before you say anything,” your voice is soft and placating and giving him all the more reason to worry, "‘Becca came by to visit me the other day and said she really liked what I made you for lunch last week.”

“So this is for her?” Leon breathes a sigh of relief. He was starting to thin-

“No, this is for you, silly!”

And you laugh like it’s funny.

“I thought I should start putting in some more effort into your food. You’re away for work so often, and I don’t get to make you nice things as much as I want to.”

Leon chokes a little and looks back down at Hello Kitty’s gleaming metal face. “This is…what I’m taking to work?”

Your face falls. “What, you don’t like it?”

“No, doll, it looks delicious but…you really didn’t have to go all out. Your sandwiches are just fine. I don’t wanna give you the trouble, y’know?” 

“No trouble at all, baby,” you practically sing the words as you twirl to add your knife to a precarious tower of dishes in the sink, “you just say the word, and I can make you bento boxes every week.”

Every week?

You cup a soapy palm to Leon’s cheek as his gaze descends into a thousand-yard stare to rival Hello Kitty’s. “I think your friends might even be excited about your lunch now!”

Oh, absolutely. Chris was going to have a field day.

Chris completely loses his shit as predicted.

“Oh, Leon, it’s adorable,” Rebecca chimes in hopefully as Chris coughs into his fist, “you should have seen how excited she was when I gave her the box!”

The frustrated ceramic click of Leon’s teeth is somehow audible over Chris’ uncivilized howling. “So this was your idea?”

She gives him a sheepish chuckle.

“Rebecca, I thought we were friends,” he pleads as he picks up his metal fork. The team hovers over Leon’s shoulders like vultures to eye what his wife’s made him for lunch. 

To your credit, it’s a mealtime Michelangelo. There are Sanrio-themed rice balls of both the brown and white variety, vegetables neatly cut and festooned with animal picks, a beautifully folded omelet, and the ever omniscient octopus sausages. Hello Kitty’s metal face guards the entire hoard like a gargoyle. It’s enough to make Leon lose his lunch, but he’d have to have some first to cough it up.

He gives the octopus a tentative poke.

“Seriously, Leon, just man up and eat the damn thing.” Jill takes no nonsense as usual, plucking a carrot from the bed of lettuce and tossing it into her mouth. “Chris is just salty he’s having his fifth protein shake lunch of the week.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

It’s never quiet with those two around, but Rebecca gives him an encouraging smile as he gives the octopus a chew. It’s not bad, really. It’s just something about eating something with ey-

Rapid alarm beeps in the main compound snap the team’s attention away from the bento box affair and towards the map in the middle. Rebecca shoots off in her rolling chair to pull up what’s alerting the alarm system, and Hunnigan’s business voice projects into Leon’s earpiece.

“I hope you’ve had a satisfying lunch.” 

He wonders if Hunnigan ever eats as he shoves his bento box into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. 

She, however, is unconcerned. “You’re going to need the energy for the incident we’ve just gotten wind of downtown.”

The situation was supposed to be minor. There were rumors of King Tut’s Curse swirling amongst the museum staff after a rare shipment of Egyptian artifacts, but nobody had taken anything seriously until a janitor walked into the storage room and came back out more dead than alive. Things escalated after the infected janitor wandered into the World War II exhibit and bit the cleaning team there. The staff was horrified, the media was unhelpfully broadcasting the entire thing on live TV, and the DSO had blessedly quieted the whole thing down on that end before directing the case to Leon’s team as a classic T-virus takedown operation.

Easy as pie. Except the undead cleaning crew had gotten ahold of loaded World War II guns, you know, for historical accuracy. 

It’s a cinch for the most part to evacuate the visitors from the museum. Leon ushers terrified middle schoolers out of the exhibits as fast as he can while the rest of his team rounds up the infected, and it’s a routine sweep. He just feels bad for the kiddos.

“But what about the gift sho- AHH!! ” Leon whirls around to see an Infected point a knife bayonet into a terrified sixth-grader’s face. The zombie’s finger pulls back the trigger almost cinematically, and Leon’s not stupid. He’s going to be too late.

The gun fires.

It fires a round directly into his left shoulder as he shoves the kid to safety.

Leon collapses on the ground after shooting the zombie’s head to bits, but his shoulder aches something fierce. Oh God, not again, this time he hasn’t even got Ada to patch him up. He gingerly presses two fingers to the wound and pulls them away to inspect the warm spill of blood, but surprisingly, his fingers come away clean. 

Jill comes running up as he stumbles to his feet. The last of the Infected have been wiped out, she explains frantically, pulling out a roll of gauze, and everything’s secure, but suddenly she stops to peer at his spotless bullet wound.

So it’s not just him. There was definitely a shot, and his shoulder definitely hurts like a bitch. 

But where was the bullet?

You’re chewing your nails down to the quick when Leon walks into the living room later that evening. The quiet shuffle of his shoes falling onto the stand prompts you to smother in him a warm, bakery-scented hug and take him by surprise, but he squeezes you back as much as his shoulder allows.

You sniffle into his leather-clad chest. “I’m so sorry, baby, I just- I saw the news before they stopped the broadcast and I can’t believe they sent you to deal with the riot!”

So that’s what Hunnigan fed the press this time. Practical as always.

“I can’t believe I made you go to work with that stupid lunch,” you carry on, gasping as you spot the bandage peeking through his jacket, “you didn’t like it and you could have died, I’m never-”

“I’m alright, no biggie.” Leon kisses the top of your head, taking you by the arms and sitting you down next to him on the couch. You furiously wipe a tear off your face.

“It’s not alright, I’m never making you anything you don’t like ever again. That bento box is bad juju. I’m telling Rebecca never to buy anything from that shop from now on.”

Okay, so you finally admit the box is creepy. Leon bites back a laugh. 

“Woah, doll, not so fast. You think it’s the box’s fault I got hurt?”

“What else would it be? Today’s the first time you take it to work, and then you get shot on a regular patrol.” You frown as he pulls the Hello Kitty bento out from inside his jacket. “You brought that thing home?”

He chuckles. “Take a look at it. I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”

You squint at the tin and realize with a startle that a bullet round is lodged smack dab in the middle of Hello Kitty’s yellow nose. Like a goddamn bullseye.

The lunchbox had taken the brunt of the hit, leaving Leon unscathed.

“Incredible.” you breathe out. 

And he’s inclined to agree.

“So, doll,” Leon grins, “got any leftovers for tomorrow? Chris is a really big fan of the octopus things.”

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[mattybsgroupie]

secret 2 | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; cursing; fingering (f receiving); praising; p in v; double v penetration; creampie; dom!matt

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notes: well, ask and you shall receive! thank you for not hating on the pegging fic lmao here’s the part 2, now with dom matt using your dildo on you along with his cock… and that will be the last dom fic in a while I NEED A BREAK. thank you guys for all the love and support, 1,5K followers is insane lmao. not proofread as usual so i apologize beforehand for any mistakes, enjoy this one! love yall sm ♡

request by: @cherib3lla & anon

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“what are you doing with this?” i questioned, holding back a giggle. it was a hilarious sight, a barefoot matt with his messy hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, blue plaid underwear, holding my pink dildo on his left hand.

“did you clean it? after we used it?” he asked, waving the toy around and staring at me.

“no matt, i took it out of you and put it back in the box” i ironically responded. “of course i did”.

“good” matt nodded, dragging his feet and making his way to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, still analyzing the dildo. he stroked the silicone as if he was giving it a handjob, realizing his regular fist felt too loose on the toy. “do you like this better than my cock?”

“matthew” i adjusted myself, crawling next to matt before letting my digits caress his covered shoulder. “i told you before, this is just a toy. no, i don't like it better than your cock” i gave him a smooch on his cheek, feeling his growing beard tickle my skin. 

“it doesn't fill me up as good and it doesn't cum inside of me” i whispered into his ear before nibbling on his lobe, trailing my kisses down his neck. matt let go of the dildo and tilted his head, giving me more access to mark him. 

“you think you can take both? my dick and this fake plastic one?” he grinned naughtily, opening his eyes when he realized i had sat down and stopped with the love bites. “c'mon, you're used to my size aren't you baby?” he teased and i looked away, not wanting to give in.

matt placed his palm on my cheek, thumb resting on my chin, holding my jaw upwards. he untangled his legs, pressing both knees on the mattress and hovering over me before laying his body on top of mine, holding his weight with both elbows. 

“fine.” i said, knowing he was still interested in what the dildo could do. “but you gotta go slow, please?”

“anything for my sweet girl” matt moved closer, his lips brushing against mine before taking them in a passionate kiss. one of his hands moved to my thigh, groping the flesh as he licked my lower lip, silently asking to go forward. 

i opened my mouth and his tongue quickly slid in, rolling against my own. matt’s grip tightened, a muffled moan coming from my throat as his palm rested just above my pussy. i bucked my hips upwards, trying to grind myself against his hand. 

“already?” matt asked, kissing my jaw. “want me to touch you?”

“please” i sighed heavily, my fingers going to the back of his neck, playing with his brown locks and trying to get him closer. “need you so bad”

“you asked me to go slow, princess” he reminded me and i groaned. i needed some relief. “be patient, yeah? promise you’re gonna feel so fucking good” matt dragged his tongue across my neck, tugging the hem of my t-shit when he reached my collarbones. i nodded desperately, lifting my arms so he’d take it off for me.

matt tossed my shirt somewhere in his room, latching his lips around my hardened nipple, sucking it while his hands held my waist, the grip of his fingers leaving red marks on my bare skin. he placed his digits on my covered pussy, rubbing my clit over the cloth.

i could see a smirk forming on his face when i let out a moan, finally deciding to touch me properly. matt's hands entered my pants and lifted my hips, rapidly removing my shorts and leaving me entirely naked. my pussy was dripping, my leaking juices had formed a huge wet patch on my panties while he teased me.

matt's middle finger and index once again pressed against my clit, making my legs tremble from the sudden friction. he traveled through my wet folds, stroking every inch he could reach before positioning his digits at my entrance, not waiting to start slipping his finger in. with my mouth hanging open, matt fully entered me and started thrusting back and forth, taking advantage of my throbbing pussy to slip another one in.

"matt!" i whimpered, my nails digging into his back as he began to curve them inside me.

“gotta stretch that pretty pussy first, huh? how you’re gonna take my cock if you can’t handle my fingers, baby?” he said, fastening his pace. i started clenching, i knew if he hit my spot i wouldn’t last long.

matt placed a few more kisses on my chest, slowly pulling out of me. “wanna use your big girl toy?” i nodded eagerly, begging to be filled. matt, however, wasn’t in a rush, taking an incredible amount of time to grab the dildo and coat it with my juices.

“told you to be patient baby” he said as i whined, matt softly dragging the silicone tip across my clit. “you’re gonna have to take both anyways” he spoke to himself, boosting his own ego.

matt positioned the dildo on my entrance, not making any effort to get in. i had to lower my hips, my hole finally touching the pink shaft. “sliding in so easily, huh?” he said, pushing it inside of me. i let my legs hang loose around his waist, as if it was his actual cock fucking me.

matt kept slow, steady movements for a while, until he decided he could no longer hide his aching boner. i could see his hardened dick from miles away, his lenght poking my thighs as he adjusted himself in between my legs.

“look how worked up you got me” matt spoke, pulling his pants down and showing me his cock before wrapping his knuckles around his shaft, spreading the pre-cum downwards. he was trying so hard to make it work, he wanted to fuck me with both at the same time. as soon as his leaking tip touched my entrance, he hissed “shit- so fucking tight”.

matt realized he would have to do a bit more effort for his plan to work. he pulled the dildo out of me, once again making me complain. at this point, i was basically getting edged, not receiving any relief to my throbbing pussy. matt placed his hands on my hips, slowly burying himself inside of me. his dick was so much bigger than my dildo, making me throw my head back as his length stretched my walls.

“you’re so big! fuck!” i moaned, grabbing the sheets since i could no longer reach his back. i needed him closer, needed him all the way inside.

he began to move his hips, pouding inside of me until he reached my sweet spot. “matt, please” i moaned in surprise “please, let me cum! just once!” i begged, the knot in my lower belly getting harder to hold.

“you're gonna be good” he started, “and you're gonna wait until i say you can cum”. matt's thrusts became sloppier, slower, dragging his dick just enough so he could feel good.

“how the fuck should i do that?” matt spoked to himself once again, grabbing the pink dildo and bringing it closer to his own cock. he was gonna push both inside of me, at the same time.

“relax for me princess, c’mon” matt whispered, pulling out the right amount to align both tips on my entrance. “you’re doing so well for me hm? just a little more yeah?”

“please” his praises always worked, my walls gradually unclenching. “slow, please, fuck!”

“theeere you go” he said, finally being able to fit his dick and the silicone toy inside of me. “it’s in baby, all in” matt admired his work, pressing my tummy to feel his own length. i rolled my eyes, no longer being able to speak.

“yeah? can feel it right here huh? good girl, so good to me. taking two cocks at once, fuck” he groaned before hovering his body over mine, bucking his hips forward as his lips came back to mine in a failed attempt to cover my moans.

“matt, i’m gonna- i’m close” i managed to speak, his blue eyes locked with mine, reassuring me i could take it. he was no longer containing himself, the silicone getting dragged on his veins along with the wetness of my pussy helping him to reach his high quicker.

“whenever you want” he nodded and i wrapped my hands around his shoulder. “no need to ask, cum all over me princess”

one of matt's hands came back to my boobs, groping my titties and rubbing my nipple with his thumb as gave a few last thrusts, twitching dick inside of me begging for release. my orgasm suddenly hit me, making me arch my back and curl my toes, my chest panting heavily as matt came in thick spurts into my throbbing pussy. as he savored the last moments of his orgasm, his cum started to leak from me, both of us groaning — him with the delightful sight, me with with the overwhelming sensation.

matt pulled out and collapsed next to me, resting his head on the mattress and opening his arms so i'd snuggle on his chest.

when matt came back to his senses, he realized he was still holding the dildo on his hand, the stickiness from our releases messing his hand. “well, that’s kinda icky” he showed it to me and i rolled my eyes, pretending i didn't find that insanely hot. “but i’m starting to enjoy this pink thing”.

“yeah? want me to use it on you again?” i chuckled, biting his neck and getting closer to him, resting my hands on his waist.

“it's a secret, i told you before” he spoke, caressing my head as he tried to fix my hair. “i might think about it if you let me do that to you again.”

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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @mommykinks4matt @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25

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[a-ikuoliver]

hiring you after a particularly tense night could either be the best decision endeavor ever made, or the worst.

pairing: enji todoroki x f!reader w/c: 2.7k warning/s:fem!reader, escort!reader, cheating, reader has hair out, finger sucking notes: sorry not sorry i just wanna be a rich mans toy; dialogue is a lil clunky my bad lmao

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“so, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” despite the firepower of his quirk, the ice is thick between you, your teasing words hardly making a crack in the frigid surface. undeterred by it’s solidity, you make your way over to the hero, still seated at the desk on a chair that makes him seem more imposing than he is, his shoulders flaring past the edges of the high back, the only thing in the room that towers over his seated frame.

the expansive office isn’t enough for the both of you, the air already thick when you take another step closer, the heavy mahogany swinging shut behind you, latching into place with an echoing thud. still without a word, endeavor stares you down like he would a villain, watching your every move, every rise of your chest, the slow sway of your hips. his ears tingle hearing your sleek heels click along the hardwood floor, slow, calculated steps across the ice, no fear of falling when you venture further into the icy depths of the office.

crystal blue eyes trail over your body with every click, drinking in the sight of your tight, white blouse, the top three buttons undone to expose a sliver of your lacy bra, the skirt with a slit far too high on your thigh to be appropriate, your sheer black stay-ups that stop at your mid thigh, a peek of your garter poking from beneath your skirt to keep them up. his ears are ringing when his glare reaches your heels, unsure if it’s his blood rushing to his head, or the sound of you stepping over the rug echoing in his head.

the hero’s heart pumps in his chest incessantly, he can already see the headlines now, top hero hospitalised for cardiac event after inviting escort to his agency. your proximity might be a fate worse than death.

drawing his eyebrows down, he averts his eyes; it shouldn’t be this easy to work him up, you’ve just walked into his office and his mind is already wandering. and yet, when he slouches in the leather, he spots the dark red lace beneath your skirt, the minute layer of fabric doing nothing to hide your dizzying cunt. enji’s sure he’s pale as his head rolls back, the blood rushing from his head, swallowing hard, he wills himself to just relax. you weren’t a threat, you were a woman. so, why was his skin burning so damn hot?

slinking around the corner of his desk like a cat readying for a nap in the sunlight, your non-existent tail curls around his throat, bringing his attention back solely to you. perching yourself on the edge of his desk, shuffling back just enough until the bare skin of your thighs squishes against the cool surface, your position hiking your skirt higher on your limbs, even more so when you cross one leg over the other, pushing the fabric to your hips. he’d never admit it, but his cock jumps just watching you move, gliding over the slowly melting ice with a confidence that made his head feel like static the longer he stared.

your allure makes his head fuzzy, your little office getup flattering every curve and plain of your body; the cliche glasses perched on your nose working better for him than he’d thought. it only gets fuzzier taking you in, your exposed thighs, squishing around the elastic of your garter, the curve of your throat, the shape of your tits when you leaned closer, the colour of your lips. you study him through the glass, licking your lips just to watch him squirm, nearly drooling yourself at the flex of his thighs as he adjusts in the seat, his bulge more than enough evidence of everything he refused to say aloud.

despite calling you after a late patrol, heaving and panting down the line with his fat cock grasped in his hand, he never quite expected the follow through.

“i’ve never been inside the number ones office before,” his gaze is still glued to your thighs listening to you speak, the weight of your sultry gaze making him shift side to side again. quirking your head, your voice is low and even when you lean closer to question him, “what are you so nervous about, endeavor?”

it takes every ounce of his self control to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the sound of your purring voice, instead, he keeps his blue eyes trained on your sparkling, mischievous ones. even with his attempt to remain stoic, the glimmer in your eyes makes it abundantly clear you remember the low, gravelly tone of his voice when he’d called you, the addictive rumble in his throat as he’d all but groaned down the line, asking to see you. you didn’t bother to respond with your rates, you knew he’d pay from how fucked out he sounded.

“i’m not.” enji wordlessly thanks any god above that his voice is even, that he doesn’t choke on the words, even when you drift closer. your scent clouds his mind, he doesn’t know if it’s your perfume, or a quirk, but the smell sticks to the inside of his nose, melting into every wrinkle and ridge of his brain with every slow breath in. shaking his head doesn't quite clear his head. countless villains defeated by him, but a gorgeous escort clad in a tiny skirt was making him tremble, the pure lewdity of you draped on his desk dressed like that had his blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in years.

growing closer to the hero,his dick twitched like it did the night he called you, the fat tip of his cock starting to stick to his boxers when your lips brushed against the stubbled skin of his jaw in an addictive, barely-there touch, marring the skin with a line of dark lipstick from the corner of his lips to his ear.

“let’s get you more comfortable,” you purr in his ear, the sound waves sending jolts of electricity down his jaw, through the jugular in his throat, down his oesophagus into the depths of his stomach with a deep shudder. your head is just as foggy as his when you drop to your knees in front of him, the wet dream of the hulking hero falling apart at the seams when you’d hardly touched him, hadn’t done a thing to make him so clammy, to get him so worked up, to have his fists clenching at his sides. you hadn’t even looked at his fat cock yet, let alone touched it.

kneeling between his thighs, each wider than your head, you lift a heavy foot that’s nearly as long as your torso, setting his heel in your lap as he studies you like you’re alien; dark red eyebrows furrowing, wrinkling in the centre when you unzip the side of the boot, tugging the moulded lather off his foot. he can see down your thin shirt at this angle, his stormy eyes locked on the charm at the centre, hypnotised by the way it catches the light like a crystal sun catcher in the middle of july, his attention only drawn away from your chest when you tugged his other foot into your lap.

the longer you fiddled with his shoes, the more strung out he got, his tendons feeling like they were about to rip under his skin, his knuckles itching to reach for you, to tug at the flimsy buttons holding your shirt together until the stitches split, growing more and more desperate to bury his cock in your cunt. fuck, he nearly forgot how a warm, wet pussy felt gliding up and down his cock. his eyes fluttered shut, the relief of his boots slipping off his feet doing little to relax his wired body, especially the more he thought about how you’d look bouncing in his lap, still in that short, tight skirt, your pretty manicured fingers rubbing at your clit, your mascara smudging under your eyes when you came, how you’d moan his name when you ride him. would you shudder feeling him dip his head into your weeping cunt? would you ask him to go slow, shiver atop him sinking down his length? would you let him spill his seed in your cunt? or swallow all his cum while you lick him clean of your juices. biting his lip, he stifles a groan at the fantasy of your cheeks full of his cum, of it spilling over your perfect lips, dripping down your chin onto your chest, tainting your thin shirt.

—his eyes squeeze shut with a groan, a heavy hand rubbing at his lidded eyes, the pressure of his knuckles in the socket forcing the picture of you from his mind. he shouldn’t be doing this. he can’t do this. his cock is aching, he can’t be doing this, but fuck, he needs it.

“i can hear you thinking,” you study his face, taking in the bright topaz of his eyes, the indecision swirling in them, the jagged scar tearing through the left side of his face, leaving a gap in the hair on his jaw, the stubble spattered around the clear skin surrounding it, the start of a beard a red only a shade darker than the hair on his head. enji’s hand drops to his thigh, his bright aquamarine gaze meeting yours, the blue a deep navy in the shadows stretching over his face, somehow still glowing an electric blue despite the darkness beneath them, the weary lines that come with the job, and age. propping your chin on his knee, his head rolls back, the front of his boxers nearly wet from staring at you, the glittering of your eyes that looked like you were starstruck, the dark eyeliner smudged around your lash line that he desperately wanted to make run down your face, the creamy lipstick already starting to smear around your lip line, half of it still left on his cheek.

“i don’t know if i can do this…” running a hand through dark red hair, leaving it in spikes. even with his apprehension, he doesn’t stop you from dragging your fingertips over the hard muscle of his thighs, doesn’t jostle your chin from his knee, allowing you to slide your hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare abdomen.

“i..i’m married.”

there’s a flash across his face, a guilt, a worry. you we’re used to clients having… commitments, someone to go home to after you, although, this was the first time you’d seen a man so concerned about it, the morals of betraying his family, the morals of just thinking of you laid bare for him to lick, nip and suck as he pleased, to make your spine arch into him. he’s itching to have you melt on his tongue, on his fingers, fuck, the longer he ogles you, the more he thinks tarnishing his reputation might be worth it. your posture straightens, the hero doesn’t miss a single twitch in your muscles, waiting for you to stand, to storm out. instead, you hum, an amused sound from low in your throat, your hands sliding from beneath his shirt back down the length of his thighs.

light as a feather, your touch grazes his aching cock, his blood running hot through his veins to his crotch, like it was his own hellfire ablaze beneath your touch. it doesn’t cool when you reach for his left hand, tugging the limb easily into his lap, not a single one of his bulging muscles straining to stop your light touches on his skin. sparing a glance at him, you gently trace your fingertips over the cold gold of his ring, the metal dinged, scratched and worn smooth at the edges from years of marriage, decades even.

“i’m not trying to be your wife, endeavor,” your eyes shine looking up at him, “it’s cliche, but i’m anything you want; a lover, a girlfriend, a date— if you don’t wanna touch me,”

your pink tongue pokes out from between your lips when you trail off, slowly licking down the length of his finger. the digit’s calloused, thick from years of hero work, his skin hot in your mouth like a cookie was right out of the oven, when you were too impatient to let them cool, instead savouring the dough melting in your mouth. wrapping your lips around his finger, your eyes are still locked on his, hardly sucking at the digit when he breaks the eye contact, heavy eyelids fluttering shut with a deep groan at the sensation of your tongue and lips around the third knuckle. he sounded even better than he did down the phone; so gravelly, like the noise was alien to his vocal chords.

“then, you don’t have to touch me,”

neither of you have shed a single piece of clothing, he hasn’t even touched you, you’ve barely touched him, yet, his head rolls back when you moan around his finger, licking at his hand like you were trying to taste his leaking cock, your ministrations hardly helping the pre steadily dribbling from his tip. enji’s hips jump when your tongue dips in the webbing between his fingers, any apprehension melting inside him with every pulse of his echoing heartbeat, desperation thrumming in his veins, the need to feel your drool dripping down his cock, to feel the heat of your cunt beneath the red lace of your panties. he throbs with the need to sink into you, he’d fuck you on the floor of his office right now if it meant he could see your pretty pussy dripping with his cum. unfortunately, instead of your creamy slick gathering in his palm, sliding down to his wrist, it’s your saliva, drooling from your bottom lip onto his thick skin, dripping onto the front of his trousers to make a patch on the front mirroring the ever-growing one on his boxers.

“i won’t touch you unless you decide it,” your voice is like an angels chorus, even as devilishly sultry as it was.

“huh-i’m—” breathing heavily, enji’s voice is garbled, his mouth drawing into a tight line, every muscle in his body tensing when you bob your head, sucking his fingers deeper into your throat like you were trying to milk his dick. your hair falls onto your face when his hips jolt off the chair, his hips pushing his palm into your face, his ring finger pressing against the back of your tongue. his resolve is melting, his hips grinding shakily into the air the longer you sucked at his hand in his lap, your soft lips wrapping around the ring beneath his last knuckle, the sensation of your teeth against his skin forcing a rumbling groan from his chest. gold ring between your teeth, you sensually drag your tongue along the underside of his finger, setting every nerve on fire with the tip of your wet muscle fluttering against every ridge of his knuckles.

he’s fucking ruined above you, bulky thighs raising off of the office chair in search of your wet, hot mouth to release into, his hair sticking up in every direction from his fingers constantly tugging on the ends, the veins in his throat shining with sweat at every heavy thrum of his blood. with white knuckles, his abdomen tenses, every muscle in his body fighting against the urge to cum, to wait until he had you beneath him, on top of him, on his face would be less fucking shameful than making a mess of his boxers from a little pseudo-blowjob.

enji mumbles something, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to make any discernible words, especially not over the sound of your slurping at his fingers, he sounded more like he was huffing and grunting than speaking, the sound clawing itself out of his throat when his eyes screw shut, his muscles losing the fight to restrain himself.

shuddering, every solid muscle relaxes at once, the tension ebbing, melting from his veins into pleasure when his cum spits from his hot tip, sticking the front of his boxers to his cock.

his head drops back when you sit back up on your knees, his ring looped around the tip of your tongue, his finger falling from your mouth with an audible pop in the quiet room, the only sound his heavy breathing and the shuffle of your clothes as you adjust your position.

he can fucking hear the grin in your voice spotting the dark stain at the top hero’s crotch, “still worried about your marriage, endeavor?”

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Caitvi x reader who just goes along with things and doesn't state their opinion or how they feel,but they do get quiet or tense when they're uncomfortable or pick their nails. But if your alright with angst maybe they get overwhelmed or hurt or both,but still refuse,so they force it out of them,and they're hurt like "why didn't you tell us?.." or something,it's comfort.if it's a little to dark I'll ask something else😭 sorry if it is

Hi! It's not too dark at all. To let it be known, I'm fine with writing angst! If you're curious about how much is too much, you can simply message me! I hope y'all enjoy the fic.

"You Can Tell Us." | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: In the household where you grew up, expressing your opinion wasn't tolerated. Hell, expressing your emotions wasn't tolerated either. To keep the peace, you learned to not say anything in stressful situations, even if that means sacrificing your well-being.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Yelling, Co-Workers Being Assholes, Name Calling, Hurt/Comfort(?), Pet Names, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

A/N: I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. THIS KINDA GOT AWAY FROM ME LMAO

Your whole life you were the person who kept the peace. You were someone who bit their tongue to avoid getting yelled at or offered solutions to problems that had nothing to do with you. If there was a solution to a problem or a way to avoid conflict, you were the person who chose those options.

So, why did this have to happen to you?

At your place of work, you were minding your business. You finished some paperwork earlier than planned and decided to take an early break. Then, four of your team members rushed into the break room.

"Do you think you can sit here and have us do all the work?" "You have some nerve making us look like the bad guys." "You're a lazy piece of shit. I don't know how you even made it this far."

The words pierced your skin and heart like darts to a board. You didn't dare to say anything back. Stunned in the moment, you took a sip of your water. Your eyes focused on the plain wall behind your teammates.

"And look, now they're spacing out like we're not even here," a co-worker buzzed. He scoffed. He leaned down in front of you and waved his hand in your face. "Hello? Anyone home?"

When he didn't get a response, he knocked on your skull.

You gave them nothing. Tears stung in your eyes.

"Wow, shocker! No one's home," he laughed. The rest of the team followed. Fulfilled, the man hummed. "Guess that's what happens when you hire an airhead who's probably having relations with the boss." the man put his hand on the table, cornering you in.

Your eyes remained on the wall. You weren't having an affair with the boss, but you didn't feel the need to say anything.

He shifted himself into your eyesight. A sinister smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. He took the tip of his finger and tipped the bottom of your cup. The cup fell over, the clear liquid soaking through your shirt and lap.

The laughter roared.

"Oops!" he feigned a gasp. He pulled away from you, his hand on his chest. "Guess you should've been more careful. It's okay," the man gave a fake smile, "holding cups is hard."

A cackle ripped through him as he leaned his head back. He shoved his hands in his pockets then turned around and left. The others flocked after him like ducklings to a parent.

Hot tears ran down your cheeks when they were out of sight. You forced yourself out of your chair and dragged your feet towards the paper towels.

Sobs scratched your throat at your pathetic attempt to dry your shirt. You were drenched through and it was cold out. Only six more hours left.

-

Home and on the couch, you stared at the wall to calm yourself down. With your nervous system still on the rocks, chews on your lips and nails, and an unfocused gaze, the attempt was a failure.

"Vi, that was completely inappropriate and not needed!" Caitlyn scolded as the two of them walked into the house. In the right mindset, you would greet them and ask how their day was, but because of today's earlier events, you didn't hear them come in.

"Oh, come on, Cupcake," Vi spoke. A chuckle followed her sentence. "All I did was curse him out a little and threaten him." the pinkette threw off her boots. Caitlyn carefully slipped her feet out of her own. "Don't act like you didn't like it," her tone was sing-songy.

The bluenette's cheeks were dusted pink. She put her hands on her hips, watching Vi's smirk grow as they kept eye contact. "I-It... It was fine, but it wasn't needed."

"Come on!" Vi threw her hands up. She hopped and spun on the balls of her feet as she entered the living room. "Muffin," Vi gave you a playful pout. She sat beside you on the couch, her arm resting on your shoulder. She gave you her signature puppy eyes. "Am I the bad guy for telling one of Caitlyn's employees to get their shit together or else their job is on the line?"

"That is not what you said," Caitlyn rebutted. She found her place on your other side.

Vi hummed, shrugging. "So, maybe I paraphrased a lil'. What's the harm?"

"The harm is you're trying to sweeten up your side of the story to be more appealing," Caitlyn narrowed her eyes toward Vi. Vi only grinned in response.

Vi put her gaze back on you. "Is it workin', Muffin?"

You're far gone. You haven't moved and the chewing on your nails got worse. You haven't blinked in so long, your eyes were producing tears to regain moisture.

"Muffin?" Vi leaned closer to your face. The tears now slid down your cheeks and your chest heaved up and down. Vi glanced to Caitlyn who was already scanning you to see if there was something physically wrong.

When she couldn't find anything, Caitlyn shook her head to reassure Vi of your physical safety.

Nothing was wrong physically which meant something emotionally or mentally was bothering you. Vi frowned. She placed a hand on your shoulder. "Muffin. Hey." Her voice was clear and firm. She was sure her voice had no hint of sadness to not push you over the edge. However, if you looked into her eyes, you would find them glassy with dilated pupils.

Caitlyn's eyes were similar. Her blue irises darkened in concern, fear, and anxiety; all the words she could use to describe how disheveled she was feeling.

Not seeing you move, Vi shook your shoulder. "Muffin. Snap out of it. What's going on?"

Caitlyn brought a hand to your thigh. She gave your thigh a gentle squeeze.

With another squeeze to your thigh from Caitlyn and a squeeze on your shoulder from Vi, you finally blinked. The moisture in your eyes made a reappearance. You looked between the two of them, pulling your nail out of your mouth. "Huh?"

"You've been staring at the wall. Cait and I came home a while ago and you haven't said a word," Vi whispered. Her grip on your shoulder turned into comforting rubs.

"Oh, I'm fine," you force a smile. Caitlyn deadpanned. She pulled her gaze to Vi who wore the same unphased face.

"You're not fine. It's okay to not be fine, dear," Caitlyn stroked your thigh. Her eyes were filled with sadness, the same with Vi's grey eyes.

"I promise, I'm fine."

"Bullshit!" scoffed Vi.

"Violet."

"No, they're not fine. That's obvious!" Vi removed her hand from your shoulder. Instead, she got up from the couch to resume her sentence. "I should've known you weren't okay. You didn't do that cute greeting of yours when your face lights up and you squeeze us like you haven't seen us in years."

You shifted in your seat, a frog in your throat. Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time, these tears are from sadness. You scratched your palm with your nails.

Caitlyn sighed. "I, too, should've noticed the change in your behavior. I guess we were too wrapped up in our own drama to notice," Caitlyn took a glimpse of Vi's expression.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, the skin between them creased. She'd squeeze her hands into fists and then let go repeatedly as a fidget.

Caitlyn took Vi's anger as a sign she should resume speaking. "We're not trying to force you into telling us, but if you're not okay, you can. We're here to comfort you, be your rock when you can't be your own." Caitlyn shuffled to squat in front of you. She doesn't force you to look at her, but you can see her worried eyes in your peripheral vision.

"Being with the two of you taught me it's okay to depend on others," Caitlyn admitted. "I want to be the person who can have anything under control and can come off as collected, but keeping all my frustrations inside or innermost thoughts can be challenging."

Vi calmed herself down enough to sit on the floor. She rested her head on your knee and put a hand on Caitlyn's leg.

Gaining comfortability, you slid down the couch. You sat between them with your back resting on the couch's edge. Vi's head repositioned itself to your shoulder and Caitlyn's moved to your other knee.

With her sitting adjustment, Caitlyn continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be the strong one. I don't want you to feel like you can't be vulnerable with us or even disagree with us."

"Yeah, Muffin," Vi's voice broke as she spoke. "Disagree or angry, we're going to love you the same. Confrontation comes with life." Vi dragged her hand down her face. "It's shit sometimes, but you gotta work your way through it, yanno?"

A heavy sigh escaped your body. You threw your head back onto the cushions and covered your face. You sobbed behind your hands. Your heart sank; your chest tightened. That frog in your throat grew into a toad. You babbled about this morning's events and how helpless you felt.

Anyone who wasn't familiar with you wouldn't be able to decipher what you muttered behind your hands. Luckily for you, your girlfriends know you inside and out. Even if it takes them a bit to notice when something's off.

The two of them pulled you in a tight embrace. They didn't speak or make efforts to shush you as you spilled your guts to them. Vi made a conscious decision not to let her anger get the best of her.

Although, those guys had no clue what was in store for them tomorrow morning.

Caitlyn also thought about making a visit to the office, but to complain to HR about the events. Not to find the culprits and make them pay. She was sure Vi had that handled. (Caitlyn would also have to handle her later.)

When your sobs calmed and your breathing evened, Vi spoke first. "They're a couple of dicks."

Caitlyn didn't feel the need to scold her.

"They should know how to treat a human being. Guess you can't do that when you're a shitty human, huh?" Vi chuckled to lighten the mood, but there was no joy behind her laugh. Only pure rage. "I'll fuck them up for you, don't worry." Vi placed a tender kiss on the side of your head. "I'll run you a bath, mkay? You should wash the day off of you."

"What about you and Cait's argument or whatever?" You peeled your head off the cushion to look at them. Everything was blurry behind your tears, but you could make out their frames and silhouettes. "Don't you need help?"

"Taking care of you is much more important than some silly fight," Caitlyn whispered. She smoothed the area on top of your head. Her delicate fingers brushed against your ear lobe as she brought them down. Her polished fingernails carefully traced the outside of your lobe. "Vi and I are big girls. I'm sure we can figure it out."

Vi grinned. "Hey, what fight?" she winked at the both of you.

A sad chuckle left your body. For a moment, relief washed over you. Once your chuckle finished though, the heaviness came back.

"Hey," Caitlyn's hand ran down your cheek. She wiped your tears with her thumb, Vi copied. "How about we get food from your favorite restaurant? I can go pick it up while Vi prepares your bath."

"I think that's a great idea," Vi used the back of her hand to soothe the skin on your cheek. "What do you think? Does that sound good, Muffin?"

You gave them a meek shrug.

"That looks like a maybe." Caitlyn giggled. "What if I add in dessert? would it be a yes then?"

"Oh, Muffin, say yes! Say yes! She's offering dessert!" Vi grabbed onto your arm. She shook you like a kid begging their parent for ice cream.

A genuine laugh came from your throat. Finally, all the pain is released from you. You don't know what made it leave. Maybe the sound of dessert or Vi's childlike begging. Or maybe it was the fact that Caitlyn and Vi cared for you enough to sit down and work through whatever problem you were facing.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Truly safe. You felt as if you could freely speak your mind without the underlying fear of rejection. You could say what you want.

"Okay," you gave the both of them a slight smile. "I think that sounds nice."

"Oh, yes! I love you, I love you, I love you!" Vi wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you on top of her. She gave you a bone-crushing squeeze.

"Vi!" you laughed.

Caitlyn laughed as well. She stood up and went to put her shoes and coat on. "Don't hurt them, Vi."

"Could never, Cupcake," Vi said from under you. "Now, hurry on and fetch us our dinner, woman! Mama's hungry."

Caitlyn scoffed, smiling. "Mama? Woman? Who are you talking to right now?"

"Oop," you muttered, grinning at Vi. "You're in trouble," you taunted in a whisper.

Vi playfully narrowed her eyes at you. She glanced at Caitlyn with an innocent and playful grin. "The tallest, cutest Cupcake in the world?"

"Right," Caitlyn dragged out the word. She opened the door. "I'll be back soon. You two stay out of trouble." and with another laugh, Caitlyn left the house.

Vi hummed. "I think she secretly liked being called 'Mama'."

You perked a brow. "Sure, she did, babe... Can we go draw my bath now?"

"Can I join you?"

WC: 2,285

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ IN PLAIN SIGHT — feat. kazuha event masterlist.

synopsis. you know for a fact that your new next-door neighbour is a supernatural creature of some kind, and you're determined to prove it. warnings. mind control?? i guess???? notes. requested by @sailorstar9! siren!kazuha. gn!reader. 2.5k words. slight cliffhanger ending lmao.

It took one week, two days, seventeen hours, and fifty-five minutes to fall head-over-heels in love with your neighbour.

Although, even that estimate that might have an exaggeration. With the way your heart fluttered as soon as that easy smile fell over his lips, and a smooth greeting fell out, you might as well have fallen from the moment you met him.

“Kaedehara Kazuha,” he introduced himself, voice sweet and melodic like a song, carried by the wind. “But please, spare the formalities. You may call me what you wish.”

The casualness of his greeting did nothing to sway the effortless grace that he held; every movement was measured and precise, with the elegance of a swan and the gentleness of an autumn breeze. There was an almost glow that shone from his presence, dulling the world around him.

As he leaned closer to shake your hand, you caught the scent of maple clinging to his skin. The smell was sweet, almost dizzying, making you stumble over your own words. “U-Uh... I'm [Name]. It's nice to meet you, K-Kazuha.”

And then he had smiled, and your chest had soared. Love at first sight was a foreign concept to you, but if it was real then this was the closest you would ever get to it.

The next week was nothing short of blissful. Stolen glances were exchanged in the mornings when you happened to walk by at the same time, idle chatter that stretched on for what seemed like hours. Every time he opened his mouth, sonnets seemed to fall, captivating you over and over again.

You weren't the only one entranced by him either. Everyone in their neighbourhood was completely and wholly enamoured by the man, from the young couple next door to the old lady down the street. Asking anyone about him would result in gushing about how he was such a sweet and polite boy, always lending a hand. He was charming, he was handsome, he was kind. And yet, you never were able to get much more than a surface-level answer about him. When you pressed, no one could tell you any more about who he was, where he came from, or even what he did for a living.

He was a mystery; simultaneously known by everyone and still a stranger to them all.

Truthfully, you should have pieced together the peculiar puzzle long before you did, but Kazuha's charm had rendered you blind. The odd sparkle to his eyes, the song-like quality to his voice, none of it struck you as odd, until you started to notice just how much he affected the people around him.

'Love', as you'd naively called it, had afflicted more than yourself. There was an infatuation for the man that had spread like a disease, infecting almost everyone he came in contact with. And as soon as you started to notice it, you couldn't stop; that lovesick expression was present on every face you saw.

“Do you know Kazuha?” The question slipped out before you could hold it back, making the girls sitting opposite you pause. When you weren't in front of him, the fog over your mind seemed to clear, but it didn't stop him from creeping into your thoughts.

“Kazuha...?” One girl—Ayaka, she introduced herself as—echoed. There was a quiet, barely noticeable lilt that fell over her voice as she said the name. The sudden shift made something settle uncomfortably in your gut.

“Yeah, he lives next to me. Do you know him?” You pressed further, studying her expression.

“Kazuha...” Ayaka breathed, her eyes glazing over. A soft, almost spacey smile settled over her lips. “He's amazing, isn't he? I could listen to him talk for hours and hours and never get sick of hearing him. He's... he's perfect.”

“He's like... something out of a fairytale.” The other girl, Yoimiya, breathed. The spark of joyfulness in her eyes had been snuffed out, leaving them blank and glistening with bliss.

“…Right.” Something was off about their responses. It tugged on the part of your mind that was still fully conscious, unravelling the layers of infatuation that had clouded your thoughts. “What do you know about him?”

“Um… he writes. Poetry, I believe.” Ayaka’s smile widened. “He read me his poetry a while ago. It was breathtaking, it felt like… like he was casting a spell on me.”

She was oblivious to the way you froze at her words, blood rushing into your ears and drowning out the rest of her gushing. She didn’t notice the way your face contorted into something horrified, too caught up in her own daydreams to realize she had chipped away the last piece of what was blocking your mind.

Abruptly, you stood, chair scraping loudly. “I have to go. Thank you for inviting me out for coffee, it’s been a pleasure meeting you both.”

Yoimiya’s eyes widened in surprise, as she hurried to stand up too. “O-Oh! So soon?”

“Yes.” You nodded stiffly. “I’ll see you around. Hopefully we can be friends.”

“I would love that.” She smiled at you. “Say hello to Kazuha for me, won’t you?”

-----

How did you not realize it sooner? You were kicking yourself on the walk home, berating your own mind for being so weak-willed to fall for him so easily. It was so obvious in hindsight that something was off about him, but it seemed you weren’t immune to whatever charm he’d put the neighbourhood under.

With a steeling breath, you tried to steady your racing thoughts. You couldn’t let yourself spiral, not when the danger was so close. Your head was clear, so the grip he held on your mind had snapped—or at least weakened—but he was still present, lurking one house to your left.

When you got to your door, your heart stopped as you met a familiar set of crimson eyes, as if he was waiting for you.

“Ah, [Name].” Kazuha smiled, drawing out the sound of your name like he was savouring it. “I was just about to knock on your door.”

When your heart pounded this time, it had nothing to do with love. “Y-Yes... I was just out grabbing coffee.”

“At the cafe down the street?” Kazuha's smile widened. “They make a wonderful macchiato.”

“Mhm, I'd best be going.” With a forced smile, you push past him and slide your key into the lock, turning it with a click. “I'll see you around, I guess.”

But before you could leave, a calloused hand caught your arm.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” Kazuha asked, the lazy smile still playing on his lips. For once, the sight didn't make your chest flutter. For once, the curl of his mouth seemed too sharp to be considered charming. There was something a little too eager in the grin, an almost-hunger that made your skin crawl.

You thought of sweet Ayaka, and her dazed expression; bright Yoimiya, her sparkling eyes dulled as soon as his name was mentioned.

Whatever twisted game he was playing, you wanted no part in it.

You pulled your arm away, shooting him a venomous glare. “No. Thank you.”

And with that, the door was promptly slammed in his face.

-----

After the initial shock wore off, your mind clicked into gear. It started with the locks, checking every door and window to make sure they were bolted shut—just to be safe. Then, the plan.

If being aware of his control over you was what broke you free, then you just had to make sure that everyone was aware.

“Isn't there something odd about that Kazuha?” You had brought up the topic as causally as you could, in the middle of a chat with your other neighbour, but she still froze.

“Oh, such a sweet boy he is,” The old woman gushed, as if she only heard his name.

“Yes, but he's a bit strange, right?” You pressed.

“Hm? I have no idea what you're talking about, love?” She frowned. “Are you okay?”

Soon, you switched tactics.

“Do you believe in the supernatural?” The question almost made you cringe as soon as you said it, but you didn't let it show. Your newest target—Heizou, who lived three houses down—stared at you blankly.

“Eh? Like spirits and demons, and stuff like that?” Spirits, demons, monsters... even if you didn't know what Kazuha was, you knew he wasn't human.

“Yeah.” You nodded stiffly.

He paused in thought. “Well, I suppose you can call me a skeptic. The possibility isn't ruled out in my mind, but I can't say I go looking for ghosts.”

“What would you do if you thought you had discovered someone you know is a supernatural creature? A spirit or demon of some kind?” You paused. “Hypothetically.”

Heizou raised an eyebrow. “...I'm not sure. Is this hypothetical creature malicious?”

“Not... outwardly.” Outwardly, Kazuha was the most friendly, polite, and perfect person you had ever met. That was the problem. “But I fear their intentions. There's no way to be certain if this creature will cause harm, and they've proven to be capable of it.”

“What an interesting hypothetical you have here...” Heizou chuckled. He saw right through you, you could tell that much, but he still seemed willing to entertain your questioning. “Tell me a bit more about this 'creature'. What are their characteristics?”

You hesitated. “They can... charm people, I think. It's like as soon as you talk to them, you're completely entralled without even realizing it. And by the time you do realize it, you're the only person who has, and everyone else has already fallen for him.”

“Sounds like a siren.” Heizou looked over them curiously. “This isn't a hypothetical, is it?”

You were silent.

“Thought so.” Heizou laughed, completely unconcerned by the idea of a monster in his vicinity. “Well, I would say there are two options here.”

“Which are?” You asked urgently.

“Confront him if you're concerned.” Heizou shrugged, his smile amused. “Otherwise just leave him be. I doubt you're in any danger, [Name].”

The problem was he had no intentions of leaving you alone. You'd tried, tried as hard as humanly possible to avoid him. You had even made yourself late to work, day after day, by delaying your exit from your house, all so you didn't have to walk past him in the morning. Somehow though, even when the street was empty, he would still manage to appear and draw you into a casual chat.

While you had naively assumed your blunt dismissal would be enough to scare him off, the rudeness only seemed to entice him into chasing after you.

“I'm busy, I have to go.” You said, each time angrier than the last. But he kept coming back, undisturbed by your rolling waves of fury.

“You fascinate me,” he admitted one day. “I've never met anyone quite like you.”

“Likewise.” You said through gritted teeth, before closing the door and locking it.

He did fascinate you, but not in the way he meant it. You were fascinated by him in the same way a fish was fascinated by shiny teeth of a shark. He was the predator and you were the prey, no matter how sweet his howls sounded to your ears.

It was scary how easily you were forgetting the danger he posed, how quickly you slipped up and found yourself craving the sound of his voice again. You had to remind yourself to keep him at arms length, until you could break his control over the neighbourhood.

But you couldn't escape him, not when he lurked in every corner, and especially not when his interest seemed squarely fixed on you. It was only a matter of time before you slipped up, before—

“I've been looking for you everywhere.” The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You dug through your bag, searching desperately for your house key with your back still turned to him. “I thought you were avoiding me...”

So he noticed.

When it was clear your keys were not there, you forced yourself to turn and face him, grimacing at the amusement in his eyes.

“I wrote a poem for you, [Name].” Kazuha finally smiled. “Do you want to hear it?”

Your chest seized. This was it, then. The moment that he ensnared you for good. You knew as soon as his sweet, melodic prose reached your ears, you would be too far gone to resist him.

“N-No!” You stumbled backwards. “No!”

There was a brief flash of alarm that flickered over his expression, before it shifted to a frown. “[Name]? Are you alright?”

“Stay away from me.” You hissed, back pressed against the door. “I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work on me!”

“What I'm doing? I have no idea what you mean. Are you feeling okay?” Kazuha asked, that familiar care in his expression that hurt to pull your eyes away from.

“I-I know what you are. The rest of this place might be under your spell, but I'm not, and I'm not gonna let you entrance me again!” The words were spilling out before you could stop them, like the floodgates had been opened and all of your pent-up anger was flowing out. “You think I would just ignore the effect you have on me a-and everyone else? You're a siren, or—or some kind of demon, or—”

“Really? And what effect do I have on you?” Kazuha's tone was curious, perhaps even surprised.

“You... know what I mean...” The anger was fizzling out the longer you talked to him, leaving your shoulders slumped and your head dizzy.

“Do I?”

The longer you spoke, the more... absurd it all sounded. How could you have let yourself come to such a ridiculous conclusion, when Kazuha had been nothing but kind... polite... charming...

Within seconds, the sticky feeling had tangled its way back into your head, melting your thoughts together into a Kazuha-filled fog.

“I meant what I said,” He said quietly, almost a whisper. “You truly are fascinating.”

Kazuha stepped back, leaving a healthy amount of space between you. Some distant part of you screamed at the loss of closeness, but it was lost to the sound of your heart pounding.

“And by the way” He paused, fishing through his pocket to pull out a familiar set of house keys, with a small piece of paper tucked into the keyring. “You should keep better track of your keys. Wouldn't want to get locked out... who knows what kind of people are lurking.”

In a half-witted daze, you managed to catch the keys, staring dumbly as Kazuha turned and left. It was only when he had disappeared from your vision that you had the thought to shove the key into the lock and let yourself into your house.

In your hands, the piece of paper slipped through your fingers and fell to the floor, the words glaring at you in bright red ink.

Bright, clear, steady eyes,

Staring straight through howling storms,

Keep your senses sharp.

🏷️ taglist: @tragedy-of-commons, @mollzaj, @wystiix, @mikashisus.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[serverusslaype]

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips. 

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it. 

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility." 

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

 "No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly. 

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

[itneverendshere]

I've had thots about Toppers girlfriend with Rafe and his wandering hands and yall are so turned on you both can't stop touching one another you're practically dry humping in front of everyone (ya know the whole hiding in plain sight)

i did something bad - r.c (18+)

warnings: rafe cameron x kook!reader; cheating; boyfriend!topper (not really lmao poor thing); public sex?; dry humping; mentions of alcohol and drugs; possessive!rafe; almost having sex in the middle of a party I guess;

You don’t even know how the hell this happened.

How you ended up right here, right now, with him. You don’t know where to put your hands, your eyes, or your thoughts. You’re lost. Completely speechless.

Yet somehow, there's nowhere you’d rather be than sitting here, pressed against Rafe Cameron's thighs. And yeah, you're dating his best friend. And yeah, as if you’re not in the middle of a roaring party, filled to the brim, at Topper’s house.

He brushes his thumb over your hip, cautious, like he’s testing the waters. “You good?”

All you can manage is a weak, “Yeah.”

“Look at me.”

Oh god.

Of course, Rafe would catch every little thing you do. Probably been watching you the whole night. Your heart stutters when your eyes lock with his.

That hand on your hip grows bolder, fingers tracing your skin in slow, teasing circles. If you died right now, you’d die happy. And maybe, just maybe, your biggest turn-on is feeling understood. Feeling seen. Rafe does that for you. Topper? Not so much.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention all night,” he murmurs.

You exhale, trying to sound casual. “Really?”

This thing between you two — it’s like a storm you can't escape from. No matter how hard you try. But in moments like this, you can’t run. It pulls you in.

“’Been trying to get your attention all night, you know that?”

You are just about able to breathe out a quiet, “Really?

This attraction between you two is everything you’ve ever needed and wanted, and yet in moments like these, you panic all the same.

You know it’s safer to run from him than to run to him like you always seem to do, but the truth is, you can’t stop. Your steady composure evaporates around him.

Rafe nods, utter confidence in the gesture. Not that you’d expect any less from the kook king himself, he always knew what he thought and felt, and wasn’t afraid to let people know. He owns every single bit of himself.

Unlike you.

“Why are you surprised, flower?” he murmurs, “You know I only got eyes for you.”

You stare back at him, mouth dry and head empty. You want to call him out on his bullshit, put the truth on a silver platter, and hand it to him, but you’d be a hypocrite. How can you tell him you hate seeing him with other people when you’ve got a boyfriend yourself? His best friend. You’ve got no moral high ground here.

So you just nod. Close your eyes, block out the world, and pretend this is fine. Pretend you’re anywhere else but here.

“Is that so?”

He's now grasping both your hips, “Don’t look at me like that. You know I mean it.”

A thrill shoots through you. His touch is scorching your skin, “Not doing anything.”

But fuck, this feels like everything. Cheating on a relationship is a distraction, a self-delusional addiction. This will end in a breakup or breakdown... or worse. You haven’t crossed that line, not physically at least. Not yet. But you feel like you are about to.

“Trust me, you’re doing just enough.”

The way he says it, like it's the easiest thing in the world to want you this bad, makes your pulse quicken. You’re crazy. His lips are so pretty, just the thought of them has you dizzy. Of course, your blush is a dead giveaway.

“Where’s your date?”

“Don’t know,” one hand moves down, “Don’t care.”

“You should.”

His lips twitch, fingers skirting down, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His eyebrows rise, eyes flickering over the room curiously.

“Where’s your boyfriend, flower?” He all but purrs in your ear. Your face is most definitely on fire. 

He stares at you, and you simply stare back. The tension that clouds the air is almost too much. 

“Outside.”

“Now, what would he think if he walked in here and saw you in my lap?” Rafe’s voice is raspy, “Hmm?”

Every bit of confidence you had is nowhere to be found. He always knows how to play your strings. It’s twisted, but the thought only makes you want Rafe more.

“You think about that?” You ask breathlessly, and the hard outline of his cock through his jeans is confirmation enough. You should shove him away. You should feel guilty. But instead, you press yourself against him, his thigh between yours, your brain already melting at the feeling.

“You are really trying to make me fuck you right here, aren’t you?” His voice is lethal, he all but groans, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, just above your pulse, “I’m trying to be good, flower.”

“You’re not good, Rafe Cameron.”

The solid press of his body on yours is all too much. His lips on your neck are everything you’ve fantasized about and more.

“I could be,” Those blue eyes fill with mischief, “For you, I would.”

Your stomach drops and you shove him off, ignoring your flushed cheeks. But then he grins, that shit-eating, sarcastic grin of his, and your glare pierces through him, attempting to keep some space between you.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“You think I can’t be good?”

“I don’t think,” Your reply is mockingly sweet, and for once he doesn’t smirk, in fact, his grin is half-hearted now, “I know for a fact, you can’t.”

“Right,” His hand works its way from your cleavage, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time, “Good thing you’re dating a good guy, yeah?”

The urge to touch, to be inside you is overwhelming. He’s never felt so desperate to feel someone. The laugh that escapes you is almost bitter, and he knows it. He knows he’s got you. And the worst part? You’re letting him.

“Yeah, good thing,” You breathe, body pressing into his.  Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs and you know you’re going straight to hell.

“Do you want me?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you even closer. Again.

“Please.”

In one swift movement, he pulls you down to the couch he’s sitting on. He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. The way you situate yourself on his thigh so quickly is too natural, and he does give a little condescending laugh.

There are people everywhere. The party rages on. But it’s like the world has shrunk to just you and him.

You stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together. Rafe lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. 

“Rafe?” Your voice is quiet, and yet he still hears you despite the music. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand so close without devouring him whole.

His eyes flicker to yours, “Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He has wanted this for so, so, so long. And fuck, so have you.

The hard press of his cock pushing right against your center is torturous. As if his stupid muscular thigh wasn’t enough. You ground yourself down on him, breathing a moan against his lips. 

“My flower,” He pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip, “Gonna be good for me?”

“So good.” You rock against him, your teeth grazing his lips. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. You push yourself further against him, rocking your hips. He groans against your cheek, thrusting up. 

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan, “Want me that bad?” 

Your legs tighten around his waist, “Yes.”

“'Y'sure, flower?”

“Yes.”

“More than him?”

“Don’t tease,” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless, “You know my answer.”

“Do I?” Rafe hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clothed clit.

“Rafe.”

“Keep talking.”

You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what a proper orgasm feels like. Can’t remember the last time you had one, delivered by a man. 

“I want you,” You mumble, grazing your teeth on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark, “Always want you more.”

“Fuck—” he gasps, hips giving an involuntary jerk, “I’m never letting you go back to him, you know that right?”

Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his tanned skin, “All yours.”

You’re so, so wet and you haven’t discarded a single piece of clothing. All he wants to do is replace his thigh with his cock but, he can’t. Not here anyway, so he settles for this. He’d settle for anything you give him right now. Lost to the sensation his head falls back, his eyes screw shut, his breath coming out in short pants. 

“C-Can we–Oh!– Can we leave?”

“Easy,” He hums, eyes still squeezed shut, brows gathering, “Not yet.”

“Please,” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove him closer.

Your pussy swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and more strained. He knows you’re close. He’s not far behind and there’s something so primal about making you cum in a room full of people, who’ve yet to take a second look at you two. The alcohol and the drugs in their veins become your accomplices. 

He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. The sound of his husky moans in your ear is about to send you over the edge – heated coil unraveling, stomach muscles relaxing.

He relishes in the way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open. It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours.

You can’t believe you’re about to cum from dry-humping Rafe Cameron.

“This what you want?” He mutters.

You nod as best you can with his palm on your throat.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, huh?” His jaw ticks. “That desperate?”

You nod again. Fuck, you’ll tell him whatever he wants if he’ll just touch you.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm. His sleeves are shoved up to the elbows, cuffed there and you can feel a muscle twitch in his forearm. 

It turns you on. You let go of any thoughts, allowing your body to take over. You moan into his shoulder, grinding erratically into his hand.

“Good girl,” His voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He has your face in his hands before you can shrink away. He's gripping your jaw between desperate fingers and tilting to your chin up, “So fucking good, flower.”

When Rafe begins to bounce his leg up and down and you bite your lip to silence your moans.

“If you ever let him touch you again, I’ll break his fuckin’ arms.” 

A whine seems to be the only thing that your brain can come up with.

You can feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you can feel it radiate off his body. 

He leans in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light. His tongue swirls through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years. He needs to feel you, needs to touch you, constantly. After the searing memory of Topper’s hand on your waist, lips dangerously close to yours, he needs to be close to you.

"M'gonna come—baby, please let me,” You cry out and dig your nails into his skin, chest heaving rapidly.

"Go ahead," He gulps, ready to take you home, he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, "'M right here."

Your stomach churns as the thin thread that is holding your composure together snaps. The tip of his nose drags over your jaw, a soft kiss pressed there as he nudges your head to fall back onto his shoulder.

And then he has you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that leaves your mind spinning. His lips move to your neck, tongue, and teeth stinging and soothing, mumbling praises and filthy promises.

“Oh, my fuckin'—God!”

He doesn't let up, not when your clit begins to throb, or walls pulse.

Not until you're shaking so hard through your orgasm that you are all but crawling up his lap, leaving you unable to breathe.

“C’mere,” he says, softly, although you haven’t moved. He lifts a hand to your face to brush the hair back from your eyes, lingering for a moment before his gaze slides up to yours.

“You’re mine.” 

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day seven: edging kink

>>> i can just see kento being such a punishing dom like i can't help it?? i really hope you guys r enjoying so far! this marks the first week of kinktober &lt;3

>>> starring: kento nanami x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: uh edging probably, possessive nanami, jealous nanami, he hates gojo lmao, one pussy slap, creampie, punishment. >>> wc: 2.8k >>> event masterlist

the way other sorcerers talked about nanami pissed him off. they always spoke about how boring and strict he was, so plain and simple. sometimes they even went so far as to question how he even managed to score you in the first place, much less keep you satisfied. how much more could you insult a man? sure, he kept to himself. he enjoyed keeping his private life private, and there was no harm in that. he found little reward in wearing his heart on his sleeve or bearing all that was important to him out in the open, considering that you were probably the only thing in that category anyway. his friends from school should find themselves grateful they even know about you, but to criticize the way he loves you? that’s intolerable. 

if his friends or coworkers asked you about your relationship, you would gush for hours about how attentive he is, list all the ways he spoils you rotten, sing that you’re the luckiest girl in the world. not to mention your sex life, goodness—he was by far the best you’ve ever had. that’s the best part about a boring mask, looks can be oh so deceiving. nanami was insatiable, and he had so many different moods. he was skillful, tender, and loving always, but that comes across differently in missionary than it does with you bent over the kitchen counter, doesn’t it? your body just so happens to be the cure for all his ailments, any concerns or worries that plague him are usually abandoned once he crosses the threshold of his home to see your sweet smiling face happy to see him. 

keyword being usually. today was especially bad. gojo’s insufferable as always, but now he even has yuji questioning him about you. all planned by the special grade sorcerer, no doubt, but still grating on his last nerves, nonetheless. 

“i didn’t know you were dating l/n-sensei!” yuji says, walking alongside his favorite mentor. gojo trailed them, trying to contain his giggles as he watches nanami’s back straighten. 

he sighs, adjusting his glasses up his nose a bit. “yes. she is my partner.” he says, letting his eyes slide to the side to examine itadori’s perplexed expression. 

“but she’s so—” 

“youthful, exuberant, charming and fun?” gojo interrupts as yuji struggles to find the words to explain his sensei-induced-confusion. itadori nods vigorously. 

“yeah! and she just seems like the type to be adventurous! you guys make a funny pair i guess! i always thought l/n and gojo sensei would end up together!” yuji explains with his signature innocence, no idea how biting that sentence felt. meanwhile gojo just watched with a fiendishly satisfied smile, able to recognize the clenching of nanami’s jaw for the jealousy that it was. and yuji kept going. “they just seem so close! they always laugh at each other’s jokes and eat lunch together!” 

kento’s brow drew up to his hairline at that, the infamous swells of envy stabbing deep in his chest. “oh? i had no idea they were such good friends. you know they say opposites attract. i suppose my maturity is what attracts her to me.” 

he doesn’t fool anyone, not even himself. all he can think about is itadori’s words and the smug expression on gojo’s face when he looked at him. and as tender and loving as nanami is, nothing can calm the jealousy running through his veins. as soothing as your presence is, nothing can keep the anger off of his face when he enters his home. 

your grin dissipates at the sight of his stoic irritation, and you wonder what could have happened at work today to garner this level of rage. he watches as you rise from the couch, where you already have your favorite show to watch together queued and waiting for him, no understanding of why he watched you like a predator. your smile is hesitant now, because you can read him so well and can tell he’s pissed. you approach anyway, taking his coat off with a peck to his cheek. 

“rough day, my love?” you frown, hanging his coat on the hook. he debates on what to say in response. is he angry? of course. at you? moderately, but he knows it’s unreasonable. he knows you love him more than breathing, and he trusts you more than anyone on the planet. but, you also know better than anyone how much he disdains satoru gojo. he’s been a pain in his side since he can remember, and you have quite literally always known that. even in school, you would tease him over his annoyance over the sorcerer. it got worse whenever you started working at the school with gojo. nanami was sure the white-haired menace would flirt with you if only to get under his skin—not to mention the possibility of him actually wanting you for himself. but it wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t help the fact that you’re gorgeous and bubbly and wonderful and all those things gojo described you as. you also couldn’t help the fact that the special grade sorcerer was the only person around that could stir up nanami’s feelings of high school envy and inadequacy. 

but you can help him get control back. 

“go get in bed for me, darling.” he replies, the muscles in his jaw ticking with every passing second. he’s staring through you, in a mental place far away from here. you know better than to question that tone, and the heavy set of his brow coupled with the intensity swirling in his woodsy brown eyes has you nodding obediently. you walk towards your room, feeling his angry stare against your back the entire way. you wonder if this has something to do with you, given just how irritable your fiancé seems. still, you can’t deny the flicker of excitement shooting down your spine as you peel your clothes off. you can hear the click of his shoes approaching as you crawl rather provocatively onto the bed. 

“itadori tells me you and gojo-san are so very close.” he says as he leans against the door way. he thinks it’s so cute how you wiggle your ass a bit to try and get out of the trouble you know is coming. gojo is a sensitive subject, and though you can’t see his face, you can tell by the tone of his voice that he is indeed sensitive about it. a slight fear creeps through your veins, but it tickles a dark corner in your brain. 

“he’s mistaken.” you purr back easily, laying flat on your back to look at him. he’s absolutely brooding, those deep set brown eyes boring holes into yours. he’s roughly loosening his tie, a mockingly amused smile tugging at his tightly drawn lips. you look good enough to eat, and he certainly plans on it. your body is such a treat, all spread out with that deer in a headlights look on your face. he can’t wait to show you why gojo could never come close. 

his brows inch upwards as he slips his tie off and starts working on the buttons of his shirt. typically, that would be your job, but this all played into nanami’s game. you’re already sucking in a deep breath at the sight of his toned and tanned physique, his dark blue button-up falling in a pile on the floor. 

“is that so? gojo himself seemed amused by the notion.” he drawls, the smoothness of his deep tone so silken and even you almost forget the storm brewing in his gaze. you watch his deft hands move towards his belt, undoing it easily as he waits for your next rebuttal. 

“we’re coworkers.” you enforce, looking at him with such surprise in your eyes. you knew kento had his issues with gojo, but you never thought he would seriously doubt you. “don’t be ridiculous, darling, please. you know how much i love you.” 

“and you know how much i hate him.” he spits out in reply, dark clouds covering the room. you gulp in an effort to escape some of the tension, your mind caught in between genuine worry and the heat you feel licking up your body at his possessiveness. you’re struck silent by the weight in his voice, the near growl that comes out. he slides his pants and boxers down in the same push, his erection almost as angry as he is. your thighs start rubbing together automatically at the sight of him, he’s perfect. he’s  long and curved, his hair perfectly trimmed to accentuate his pretty length. “yet i’m told you eat lunch together every day.”

there’s that tone again, that gruff snarl at you for playing right into the special grade’s hands—he’s warned you about this, about gojo’s manipulation. you shake your head in an effort of apology as at last, he pulls his glasses off and sets them carefully on the desk slowly to torture you with the sight of his god-like body. 

“more like once a week–kento please, it’s not like that at all! we lesson plan! he’s just trying to get to you.” you assure, biting your lip to keep from pleading for his touch. you’ve been laying here neglected for ten minutes now, but begging could possibly only make it worse. 

“it’s working.” he grumbles, his hateful stare making the desire multiply in your gut. he was always so tender and caring, but you had a feeling he would be anything but tonight. he sits at the edge of the bed and you subconsciously spread even wider for him. he rests his hand on your shin, rubbing rough circles on the flesh. nanami had to remind himself that you were his, and clearly you needed the reminder too. he lays flat on his stomach, aggressively keeping your legs parted. “always laughing together, hm? i hope you find this humorous, then, my love.” 

you go to respond, to try and sing your innocence one last time, but your feisty lover’s wet tongue silences any protests as it glides through your folds to bump up against your nerve bundle. your legs jerk up a bit in surprise, but his harsh grip keeps them from reacting too violently. normally, between your legs is kento’s favorite place to be after a long day, the ambrosia taste of you was the cure to any and everything, even now, he moans out in satisfaction. this time though has a frenzy to it, his tongue flicking over your swelling clit as his fingers dig into the plush beneath him. he knows the grip will bruise, but he couldn’t be bothered to care all that much at the moment. 

your hands fly to his honey locks, the feeling of his teeth grazing your need skillfully had the knot in your stomach coming loose with every passing second. he’s making animalistic noises as he devours you, the air quickly filled with the sounds of your meek pants. it’s so cute how you rut your hips into his face, desperately trying to chase your high. you’ve always been this way, so addicted to the feeling of his mouth on your sex that your body can’t help but beg for more. he can tell by the sounds that you’re making that you’re close, and he can’t help but grin to himself. 

you tug on his hair a bit harder, your other hand fondling your chest. he’s hungry and rough as he nibbles and laps, and you know you won’t make it much longer. that is until he pulls away, looking stern when your eyes fly open to meet his. you’re pouting already, tugging his hair again. “baby, don’t be mean.” 

he chuckles darkly at the whining, shaking his head. he likely won’t respond either, all part of the torture. you frown even deeper if possible, so annoyed with gojo right now that you may quit your job altogether. 

“kento–” you chide, wanting to fight for your right to cum, but he interrupts you with a harsh slap to your cunt. it makes your body jolt forward and a little squeal tears out of your throat, the sweet pain making your mind a little dizzy. he sits up, tapping his length against your clit now. it still makes you jump a little every time, the hazy look in your eyes after just one denial was so sweet it almost had him rethinking the punishment altogether. “i’m sorry, he’s just my friend, i won’t even talk to him any—” 

he stuffs his cock into you all at once, the burn and surprise making you gasp instead of finishing your sentence. his jaw is still hard set as he puts your knees over his shoulders, not caring about the vicious angle he makes while lifting your hips off the bed. he doesn’t want to hear any apologies, he doesn’t want you to make any promises, he just wants you to be so marked up and unable to walk when you see gojo tomorrow that no one ever questions him again. he plants his foot on the bed and starts driving into you, brutal and quick. his need to claim is obvious, he can’t stand that smug look on his fucking face ever, but especially not in regards to his woman. 

you don’t even have the opportunity to scream, his pace so punishing you can’t form a thought to speak out anyway. it hurts so good, how heavy he feels inside you, the sting from him colliding with your cervix over and over until your eyes are scrunched closed in pleasure. your core burns again, your hole flutters around him so prettily he knows he’ll only be able to go through with this from sheer determination alone. he can tell you’re about to come undone again, the little pants coming from your lips and the way you claw at his forearms is all the evidence he needs. he draws out to the tip, stilling and watching with slight amusement as you whine and pout again, moving your hips in an effort to keep him going.

“so mean to me, baby..didn’t even do nothing, please!” you huff, frustrated with his relentless denial. he knows exactly how to drive you crazy, sending you spiraling quickly. perhaps this is what he needed, to control you utterly and completely, to make you plead for him. “please ken, just wanna feel good, just want my man to make me feel good, i’ll be so good for you, i promise, won’t even talk to him no more!” 

he chuckles a bit, thrusting back in to stop your stupid babbling, as cute as it was. and yes, the begging was a slight boost to his ego. besides, you’ve almost learned your lesson, and he’ll need to let you cum for it to really sink in. he fucks you like he hates you again, turning you to your side, folding one leg over the other to make you his own personal pretzel. it lets him hit so deep you’re almost scared your organs will take permanent damage. you can’t hold back your wails, colorful orbs dancing across your vision as you mindlessly scratch at the headboard in front of you. 

“if you want to cum at all, do it now.” he commands, the roughness in his voice may have been enough to bring on an orgasm all by itself, but you have no problem following his orders with the way he pounds you. you nod because it’s all you can bring yourself to do, squeezing down on him and coating him in all the pent up release you’ve been denied. he quietly groans, dick jumping until he covers your insides. 

“oh darling, you can talk to him. in fact, i want you to. tomorrow, i want you to waddle into the teacher’s lounge and answer all of his questions.”

[soggyriceee]

omgomg this is my first time requesting smth lmao i hope it isn’t too obvious but i was wondering if we could have the safeword fic you did for konig and price, for ghost too? btw ur work is amazing💗💗

strawberry | Simon Riley

summary: what le request says

warning: slight ass play, spanking, orgasm denial then overstimulation, degrading, slight praise, forced breeding, angry sex, rough to gentle Simon

thank you anon for your request and for enjoying my work! I had a lot of fun writing this for you so I hope you enjoy~

~~

“ can you just stop and fucking listen?!” Simon yelled, slamming the door behind you both as you entered the apartment. “ i’m listening Simon i’ve been listening.” you hiss at him, turning angrily to meet his equally angry face. it was a petty argument. and you initiated it. why? you were jealous. and angry. but also, a bit horny?

and of course you put on a tight black dress, your whole back exposed to show the top of your tramp stamp. your shoes were no better, black sting heels. and Simon was everything but happy about that of course. so he did one better. “ why is your shirt basically not buttoned?” you snapped at him, watching as he tied his black leather boots. his shirt was a silk black one, maybe two or three buttons up, exposing the top half of his abs. his pants were a nice pair of plain black dress pants, nothing special.“ problem love?” he asked gently, tilting his head up to look at you. you watched as he blindly tied his shoes, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek.

and the club was no better. immediately girls crowded him at the bar as he got you both refills. and even though he’d push them off, you still decided to get some sort of payback. from a one sided competition.

you made your way to the dance floor, hot pink LED lights and smoke covering the floor. other than that it was dark, occasional flashing white lights illuminating the room. the smell of alcohol filled your nose as your slid past people, humming to the song. you made sure not to move too far from your table, making sure to remain in sight of Simon. and he didn’t take long to find you, his jaw clenching as you looked him in his eyes, a smirk on your lips.

it also didn’t take long for a man to come behind you, slipping his hand around your waist. at first you jumped, the feeling of an unfamiliar and honestly skimpy arm compared to Simons throwing you off guard. but seeing how his face twisted into anger almost immediately motivated you to dance on this guy, get a reaction out of Simon. it was only fair , look how many girls he had crawling on him?

this did not end well for either one of you honestly. Simon did one better by inviting a girl to sit at the table. in YOUR seat. and so you decided to crank it up and dance your way over to a table close to Simon, happily sitting on a man’s lap at the table to chose. he was handsome, tall. black wolf cut hair with a nice tames bearer, brown eyes and plump lips. you were shocked there wasn’t a girl coming full speed at you.

this took Simon to his breaking point, slamming the cup onto the table and walking over. you couldn’t even properly flirt with the man before you were yanked off him, dragged behind Simon with his hand gripping your wrist tightly.

he shoved you in the car quickly, your head hitting against the seat. but he didn’t even care. the second he got in the car, the arguing started. ruthless words coming from both sides, your finger jamming into his arm, his hand slapping it away. you both never really argued like this before, and you had a feeling it was because you were both so fucking horny for each other. he had been gone on a mission, just returned two days ago. but neither of you have had the time to properly have sex. only quickies in the morning since you had work. and you were beyond drained by the time you got home, leaving Simon to fuck up into his hand as you laid on his chest.

and so, this arguing led to a final breaking point. a breaking point that happened to come quicker than expected. “ you aren’t listening. your going on your own fucking narrative like always! you saw me push those girls away.” he yelled, slamming the keys on the dining table, watching as you made your way to your shared room. “ stop fucking walking away from me!” he yelled, walking over to you.

just as you made it in the room, you began to close the door. but he was ten toes behind you, his hand already pressed flat against the door. “ i have no intention in-“ he pushed you further inside, slamming the door closed. “ i don’t care what the fuck you want.” he said, locking the door behind him. you swallowed, watching as he made his way over to you. “ can you back up” you said, holding your hand out onto his chest. but he kept moving, flicking your hand away like it was a moth.

your knees his the bed frame and you fell backwards, a gasp coming from you. Simon stood tall above you, looking down at your now quiet figure. he kicked your legs apart, shifting his body to fit between them. “ see where talking too much gets you love?” he said softly, his hand finding your thigh. you looked down, looking at how his veiny hand gripped your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles on the inner part. you looked back up to meet his eyes, a smirk spread on his lips.

“ j-just stop being fucking annoying.” yoh muttered, scooting back. but his grip was strong on your thigh. he pulled you back to place, your dress shifting up your body as he did. your white thong peaked out, a chuckle coming from him. “what a slut.” he mumbled. and as much as you wanted to talk back, you didn’t. in fact, you clenched when he called you that derogatory name.

he hummed softly, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. his fingers grazed over your clothed cunt, a smile spreading onto his lips when he felt the wet spot. “you weren’t really angry were you lovie?” he whispered, his index finger pressing gently on your clit. you whimpered at the pressure, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. “answer me, i asked a question.” he said, removing his finger. “n-no.” you quickly said, maybe a bit too quick. he chuckled, shaking his head. “ so desperate.”

his finger rubbed small circles onto your clit, watching your hips buck into the air. " just needed to be fucked huh?" he whispered, licking his lips. you nodded your head, an embarrassed red blush coming onto your cheeks. he chuckled, shaking his head slowly. his fingers picked up in speed, a whimper leaving your lips. your eyes closed, head pressing onto the mattress. but that pleasure was taken away in a matter of seconds.

your head lifted, looking up to him with pleading eyes. "think you deserve to cum? silly girl" he sighed, giving you a small pout. he hooked his finger into your underwear, pulling them down. he moaned quietly as he watched your slick cover your pussy lips, his tongue wetting his lips again. "thats what I like to see" he whispered, tracing his fingers down your cunt to your hole, collecting the slick.

you gasped softly, watching him from below. one of his rough fingers slid in slowly, sliding out just as slow. your pussy squelched around him, a small whimper escaping your lips. he was quick to add a second finger, his fingers picking up in pace. " look at this pussy.. so fucking tight and wet for me huh?" he cooed, tilting his head slightly. his other hand moved up and under your dress, moving up to your breast. your dress was completely up your body at this point, your body on full display for him.

" look at you, so pathetic and helpless under me huh." he whispered, rolling your nipple through his fingers. you whimpered, your legs bending to lift your hips up. he bent down, pressing a kiss onto your neck, his fingers hitting deeper into you. " w-wanna cum.. please" you whined, gripping onto his shirt. he let out a breathy chuckle, his fingers slowing down as he felt your cunt pulse around his fingers. " stop being a whiney bitch" he growled, sliding his fingers out.

you whimpered at his loss of touch, gripping onto his shirt harder to try and get him to stay. but he flicked your hand away, standing straight. " turn around, ass up." he said, pulling his belt off his body. and you did just that.

your quickly turned around, almost embarrassing how fast you moved. but you couldn't wait, you needed him inside you. you needed him pounding into your cunt, making you cum over his dick. you wanted him to be rough with you. no. you needed him to be rough with you.

his hands suddenly gripped your hips, his fingers stabbing into your side. one hand pressed on the lower of your back, pushing you further onto the bed. it hurt slightly, but you were too blinded by the soon coming pleasure you didn't care. " think you deserve to get fucked? dancing on other men, sitting on their laps. think a whore like you deserves my dick?" he growled, slapping his dick onto your pussy. you moved your ass back, trying to feel him length slide between your folds. " please I'm sorry sir, please I need it" you whined, turning your head to look back at him.

he grunted, his hand that was once on your back sliding back to your waist, his other hand remaining at the case of his dick. " show me. show me how sorry you are." he said, sliding his tip alone into your cunt. you both sighed softly, his jaw clenching. you slid back onto his dick, your mouth falling open as his length stretched you out. "fuck" he groaned, his eyes fluttering close.

you took a moment to collect yourself, feeling him pulse inside you. " come on then, fucking bounce that ass against me" he growled, his hand slapping down onto your ass. your gasped, your bottom lip tugging between your teeth. slowly, you moved off his dick, slamming back against his hips. his hand again slapped against your ass, a painfully good sting. " just like that baby, come on. fuck yourself on me." he groaned, watching your figure move back and forth on him.

your head fell back, trying to get him to pull at your hair. when he noticed your pathetic attempt to get what you wanted, he laughed down at you. " want me to pull your hair?" he asked, his hand gripping the flesh of you ass. you nodded, swallowing your whimpers. " well use your fucking words." he growled, digging his nails deeper into your skin. you cried out, your fingers wrapping around the sheets. " p-please sir pull my h..hair." you cried out, moving your hips faster.

he grinned, patting your ass gently. " good girl " he cooed before digging his fingers into your hair, pulling it back. you gasped, your back arching so far back your lips and his were close. " wasn't so hard was it?" he asked, smirking down at you.

your hips continued to move back against him until you began to lose your momentum, your movements slowing down. " getting tired already?" he asked, his free hand sliding from your ass to your hip. you whimpered, looking into his eyes with pleading ones. " n-need you to fuck me.. please" you whimpered, your hips stopping. he smiled down at you, letting your hair go to instead wrap his hand around the side of your neck.

instead of giving you a verbal response, he slid his hips out of your cunt and thrusting back in forcefully, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. your mouth fell open, your eyes hooding. " keep your eyes on me, wanna watch your face while I fuck this pussy." he growled, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you more into him. his dick rubbed right against your gummy walls, his tip jamming against your cervix with each thrust.

" f-feels so good sir" you whined, feeling your orgasm building up again in your stomach. he grunted, moving his hips rougher, but remaining the same pace. " I bet it does, look at you. so fucking pretty taking this dick." he whispered, a moan slipping past him after. your eyes crossed as his dick hit against your g spot, your pussy pulsing around him. " c-can I cum sir.. please." you begged, looking up at him. " so fucking desperate you are. go on then, cum for me." he replied, gripping your throat tighter.

you finally let your orgasm take over you, your eyes tearing up from the release, your moth falling ajar. your body quivered in his grip, a small smile on his face. " there you go just like that baby.. coating my dick." he whispered, looking down as he slid out, watching your cum coat over his dick. a ring of white was around his base, earning a moan from him.

his hips picked up in pace again, his thrusts fast and deep now. your pussy was still getting over your orgasm, your body shaking in his grasp still. " f-fuck slow down.. please sir." you cried out, gripping not his arm that remained around your waist. but he continued his abuse on your pussy, his tip slamming against your cervix. " oh but you wanted to cum baby.. im just giving you what you begged for." he cooed, his hand on your throat now sliding up to your mouth, puling your jaw down.

drool was quickly to pool in your mouth, sliding down his fingers and hand. he groaned at that feeling, his hips moving faster. " using other men just to get my attention. just to get fucked. couldn't use your words." he growled, his other hand pushing you onto the bed. his hand that was on your mouth moved to your ass, his other hand moving to your opposite cheek. " even now, cant use your fucking words. so go ahead baby, keep not using your words. gonna use you like my personal fuck toy, and your gonna fucking let me." he growled, his knee rising to the bed, allowing him to his your insides deeper, faster.

your head pressed onto the mattress, your hands on either side of your head. your second orgasm was approaching quickly, your back aching from the position. but your discomfort became even more enhanced when you felt his thumb press against your asshole, a yelp coming from you. " s-simon I c-" "what did I say? didn't wanna use your words so stay fucking silent now." he growled, moving his hips faster.

you cried out when his thumb pressed into your ass, a new and uncomfortable feeling for you. but Simon loved it. " fuck love.. feels so good. love using your pussy like this." he moaned, his thrusts become more sloppy. he was close and you were finally going to be able to breathe. or so you thought.

his thumb remained where it was, inching more into your hole with each thrust he gave you. tears poured from your eyes, your makeup completely painting your bed sheets. but that was the least of Simons worried right now. his free hand came around the back of your head, pushing it into the mattress. " shut up, dont wanna hear any of those pathetic moans of yours." he growled, his body pressing over yours.

you cried into the mattress before finally feeling his cum shoot into you, a strained moan coming from Simon above you. " fuck yes.. fuck" he groaned, his hand gripping the back of your head as his hips gave you small quick thrusts.

and you thought he was done, but you were wrong. completely wrong. once he came over his high, he turned your head to the side, allowing you to breath. you were gasping, tears running down your face. he took his thumb out of your hole, sighing as his hands gripped the flesh of your ass once more. " think im done, don't you." he mumbled before sliding out of your cunt.

your cum and his poured out of you, dripping onto the mattress. " look at that baby.. look at the mess we made.. " he said softly, reaching over to slide a finger from your clit to your hole, collecting the wetness that your cunt gave him. your body jerked forward, a small gasp leaving your plump lips. " lets make a bigger mess. " he whispered before flipping you onto your back.

his hands were quick to grip either of your thighs, pulling them apart in butterfly position. your dress still pooled at your boobs, which he didn't mind in this case. his hands rubbed up and down your inner thighs, looking down at your drenched pussy. " so wet, just for me huh? just for my dick." he asked, moving his hips to place his semi hard dick right on top of your pussy. you were about to speak but he shook his head, saying " no words. remember?" so all you gave him was a slow nod, looking up into his eyes.

he smiled before looking back down to your sexs' moving his dick side to side against your folds. without warning, he pushed himself fully inside you, a quiet whimper leaving him. he wasted little time in sitting inside your pussy, wanting to hear your wetness squelch around him. " listen to that pussy lovie.. fuck your so wet." he growled, his hands gripping your thighs.

your head pressed back into the mattress, his thrusts gradually picking up in speed. it was hard to keep yourself from saying any words, especially when he was fucking you as well as he was. but that pleasure soon turned into pain when he raised on of your legs up, keeping the other one in that butterfly position. his tip was hitting your womb directly, emitting painful cried from you. but he loved it. "aww, is it too much for you baby?" he cooed, his hand coming down to cup your face for what you thought would be genuine care and sadness.

but he slid two fingers inside your mouth, hooking around your bottom teeth to pull your jaw down. " see if I fucking care" his thrusts grew in force as well, your moans no longer soft and quiet ones. each thrust he gave you produced a moan from you, your eyes squeezing shut as you endured the pain.

what didn't make it better, was the bulge that Simon began to notice. and when he saw it, he didn't slow down or change the force of his thrusts at all. " look at that.. can barely handle my cock can you? so fucking s-small beneath me" he moaned, watching the drool from your mouth drip down his wrist. your eyes opened, looking up into his fiery ones. you knew he wasn't stopping any time soon, and it was now your mistake of edging him to go this far with you. you began to regret it quickly.

your pussy again began to pulse around his dick, your whimpers growing in pitch. " close again huh? come on then, cum for me." he said, watching that tiny bulge pop up from your tummy. your back arched up and off the bed, your second orgasm washing over you. your legs shook in his grasp, your eyes producing more tears.

and all he did was smile down at you, watching your body tremble from his dick. he loved it, loved to be the one to give your body such a violent reaction. " thats it baby take this dick, show me how badly you wanted it." he moaned, raising his knee to rest on the bed once again.

this wasn't fun nor pleasurable anymore. your pussy was crying out for help as he rammed his dick inside of you, working towards making you finish again. his dick slid in and out with eat, your pussy and his hips making sinful noises when they connected. your cum, his cum and your own wetness covered your inner thighs and his own pelvis, adding to his own pleasure.

his head had fallen back, his moans growing in pitch and frequency. he was close again but wasn't going to allow himself to cum. " come on lovie, cum for me again. s'what you wanted right? to cum." he groaned, head falling back to look down at you. you still couldn't respond if you wanted to because of his fingers still hooked to your jar, adding to the overall uncomfortable feeling you were going through.

tears of pain began to take over the ones that were once pleasurable, your walls and cervix not able to take more of a beating. your body was tired, you were tired. but you couldn't do anything to fight back. you had tried to push him off, but that only resulted in him slapping you, gripping your face straight afterwards and telling you to "take what I give you." in most cases that would be hot, maybe even make you clench around him. but this time it emitted true fear out of you.

his fingers slipped out of your mouth to go down to your clit, causing a painful cry to leave your lips. you tried to pull your knees together, but the position made that everything but easy. " come on you can take more, it's what you wanted remember?" he cooed, watching as your cunt coated his own body. and yes you did want it at first, but not anymore.

“s-simon i cant.. i c-cant-“ his other hand gripped your cheeks, swelling your mouth shut. “i don’t care lovie. this is what you fucking get” he groaned, his eyes watching as strings of cum connected his dick back to your pussy. you were full on crying beneath him, another orgasm making it’s way through your body.

you shook beneath him, his mouth agape as he watched your pussy pulse around him, your cum seeping out. it didn’t take much for him to cum inside you again from that sight alone, his grip on your cheeks tightening. his fingers released your clit and instead made their way to your nipples.

his hips slowed down, but the force of his thrusts didn’t. your body was shutting down and you physically couldn’t take anymore. with his hand still grasping your cheeks, you began yo say “stra-“ but his hand clasped over your mouth, grunting. “ didnt i fucking say shut up.” he growled, his eyes locking onto yours. he hadn’t processed what you were trying to say, he was beyond pussy drunk at this point, he could pull himself out of you.

your body violently shook beneath him, your eyes red and stinging with tears. you both were covered in sweat, Simons hair sticking to his forehead as he pumped himself inside you. when he had relaxed from his previous orgasm, his hips picked up in pace yet again. his hand still rested onto your mouth, silencing you completely and restricting a decent air flow.

because of how sensitive you were, it took only a few thrust for your next orgasm to well up inside you. and this one you couldn’t take. with the lack of air and pure overstimulation, your clawed at his hand helplessly, trying to get him to listen to you, to see you. but by the time he had decided to let you go, your orgasm washed over you and your body shook violently beneath him.

tears of pain and genuine terror came from your eyes, clawing his hand away from your mouth. you couldn’t feel anything in your body, not even your own arms. your mouth was dry, head was light from the lack of oxygen and your cheeks were sore. “s..strawberry” you cried out trying your hardest to push him away from you.

Simon immediately stopped his hips, looking down at your disheveled body. you laid limp below him, body still shaking. a million thoughts began to run in him mind at once, but the loudest one was “what have i done”.

he slid out, a painful cry coming out of you. he didn’t know what to do, he’d never gotten you to this point before. he just watched as your body laid almost lifeless on the bed, cum seeping out of your hole. “i.. i-i’m so..” he couldn’t find the words to even begin to describe how sorry he was. he was like a deer in headlights, unable to move at all.

but he jumped into action the second he saw you begin to move. but when he tried to touch you, your shifted away from him, whimpering the second his hands touched you. he backed away, almost tripping on air.

he watched as your lifelessly crawled further onto the bed, almost like you were pure fleas no bones. the large wet spot where you once were only hurt his chest more, a sign of how far he pushed you. “my love i-“ but your back was to him now, full on sobs escaping you.

your body didn’t stop shaking, not even after you managed to pull a blanket over you. you felt exposed, used. like you were some fleshlight and nothing more. and yes, your and Simon had rough sex, but it was never to this extent. never to the extent you felt unsafe.

as you cried, Simon fought his own tears of anger and disappointment. he had one job, to make sure you felt safe and he completely failed. he didn’t know what to do in this moment, he was still standing. he watched as your body trembled underneath the blanket. he didn’t see his girlfriend anymore. he saw a scared little girl.

he turned to walk towards the bathroom, his eyes blank, face showing no emotion. he didn’t want you to see his emotions, this was about you. and making you feel better. it was about him failure in making you feel safe, he broke a promise he swore he’d never break.

he ran a bath, making sure the water was perfectly warm. he found a few candles in the cabinets from when you bought them a few weeks back, lighting them and placing them around the bathroom. he also managed to find a towel and quickly made his way into the laundry room, throwing it into the dryer so it was warm when you came out.

when he made his way back into the room, he laid his eyes on you first before finding a pair of pants to put on himself. he wanted to hide his body, scared that if you saw it, you’d go into some sort of panic. he also found a nice pair of pajamas for you, tossing them onto the bed.

and finally, he made his way over to you. your body was still shaking, just not as violently as before. your face was hidden under the blanket, soft sniffles coming from underneath. he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat before slowly and gently resting his hand on your covered body. “ my love.. please-“ but shook him off of you, scooting back. his head hung low before he tried again, this time dropping to his knees.

“i want to take care of you.. please. please let me fix this.” he said softly, making sure not to touch you. but he got no response. he rested his head on the bed, sucking in a deep breath and holding it, stopping the tears from escaping. and he stayed like this until he felt your body shift.

he looked up and was met with your eyes alone, your lower face and body still covered. he swallowed, not saying a word. and neither did you. it stayed like this until he reached over slowly for the blanket. “ can i?” he asked softly. when you gave him a small nod, he slowly pulled the blanket off.

his eyes never trailed to your boobs or pussy, his eyes stayed on you the whole time. he was determined to fix this, determined to make you feel safe around him again. “can i lift you?” he asked, standing slowly from his knees. when you gave him another small nod, he lifted you from the bed and immediately made his way over to the bathroom.

he placed you into the tub, watching how you looked around the bathroom at all the candles. “ i..i don’t even know where to begin.” he said softly, looking at you in the tub. “i should’ve listened to you. i’m sorry.” he said, taking your rag and rubbing soap onto it. you watched him silently, giving him only small nods when he asked if it was okay to touch you or move you in any way.

and it remained like this for the remainder of the night. your body was still sore and limp, your head pounding from all the crying. you just laid in bed the rest of the night, Simon staying by your side. he didn’t touch you, didn’t ask you anything. he was still in shock over what had happened. he was cursing himself in his head, angry that he put you through something like this.

his hands were in fists when you reached out slowly, cupping your comparatively small hand on his. he looked down, your eyes closed. “my love?” he asked softly. he didn’t get a verbal response, but he did get a small hum. “do you need anything? food? medicine?” he asked, already prepared to stand and get you whatever it was you needed.

but you shook your head, limply scooting closer to him. he got the idea and stopped you, moving himself closer to you instead. “ are you tired?” he asked, his hand wrapping around your shoulders. you gave him another silent nod, your head finding his chest to nuzzle into.

a soft smile came to his lips before he pulled you closer, watching you fall asleep. and even when you did, he stayed up to making sure you didn’t need anything from him. to make sure you were okay. he didn’t care about sleeping, not when he put you through that.

“i love you” he said softly, rubbing your shoulders as you slept against his chest peacefully. for the first time since this whole thing began, he felt like he was doing right in making you feel good. making you feel safe.

[solomons-poison]

◇ What being married to Buggy is like ◇

Buggy is the type that, once you two are married, he's constantly bringing up "My wife" to his crew, his enemies and victims, and just generally to people he doesn't even know because he's just so damn excited that you actually agreed to marry him.

The wedding was beyond flashy, possibly the noisiest and brightest celebration you've ever seen. And you can be sure everyone in a 50 mile radius is aware of your wedding. But you have to admit, your new husband can really throw a party. (He also sobs very loudly when you two are alone because he's just so in love with you and can't believe you agreed to marry him).

If he's got a ring, you can bet he's showing it off to everyone. He's likely even got a picture of you in a wallet or something and shows it off while going off on a tangent; the edges are clearly worn from how much he handles the picture.

Steals all kinds of goods to show you like some kind of courting bird, leaving you with a pile of things you don't know what to do with. Especially if it's shiny and expensive, you can bet he's bringing it back. Ends up being called "blue jay" or just "blue" for short for his colorful hair and love for shiny objects.

Buggy is quick to anger, even with his beloved wife. Arguments can end as quickly as they start, or it's a grudge that lasts ages; there is no in between. Sometimes it's over dumb shit, and sometimes it's a major miscommunication or an insecurity. It's very very difficult for him to admit fault first and apologize, sometimes causing another argument. But when he does apologize, expect some (stolen) flowers and chocolates.

If you two argue and you decide to sleep somewhere other than his bed, he WILL have a breakdown and come crying to you telling you not to leave him.

He's clingy but won't admit it. Latches on to you in his sleep and complains if you try to leave his arms, or if you mention about him holding you. He doesn't like when you leave his sight and gets noticeably grumpier until he can see you and touch you again.

He puts up a good front when around others, but in private that all changes. Might have a nervous breakdown about the fact you're married, wondering if he's worthy of you or if he tied you down to a nobody. Chances of him confessing this to you significantly increase when he's drunk, his face completely red from effects of the alcohol and he's lying across your lap or generally slumped over you. He's totally embarrassed when he wakes up.

Definitely wanted a tattoo of your face on his body and had to be convinced that it's a bad idea. Doesn't understand why.

Gets cheeky and flirty in public, especially if there's someone else that he feels is more confident or better than him around. Gets a little handsy if he sees anyone eyeing you, definitely using his detachable hands to his benefit.

Mihawk and Crocodile don't hide from openly flirting with you/checking you out, even if they're not serious about it, and it makes Buggy explode.

Completely melts when you call him all sorts of pet names, regardless of how silly they are, and will always reciprocate. "Buggy boo", "honeybunch", "sweetie pie", "sweetheart", "Bugs", "blue", are some favorites. Even when you call him "crazy clown", he loves it. However, his ultimate favorite will always be just plain "husband" (or "hubby").

He's the epitome of "my wife can do no wrong"... except when you do something that angers him or you're in an argument lmao. But only he gets to be angry at you; if anyone else complains or starts something, they're dead.

Generally, married life to Buggy is a wild one full of ups and downs. But he tries his best to make it a fulfilling one.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  when broken is easily fixed

SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)

CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)

WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2

WORD COUNT : 2.7k

A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from silverstein’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics. 

You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state. 

No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.

The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.

It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.

You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult. 

You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.

But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear. 

One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection. 

Your stomach dropped at the sight of them. 

You’d never felt the way you did before. 

Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had  for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.

But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.

You had feelings for Priestly.

What a dumb way to find that out. 

Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t  going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months. 

You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books... 

You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did. 

It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending. 

You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…

It was torture.

The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer. 

But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away. 

It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.

Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too. 

No Tish. 

Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley. 

His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears. 

No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.

He entered the store today again after a week. 

The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.

His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap. 

You felt bad… at first. 

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too. 

He came completely in black, too. 

It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester. 

But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun. 

You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up. 

He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you. 

“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you. 

“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands. 

Your face softened.

“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest. 

He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.

“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you. 

He smiled a little. 

It made you smile more earnestly. 

“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up. 

He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk. 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned. 

“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky. 

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.

You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly. 

“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically. 

You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.

When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment. 

“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed. 

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.” 

He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag. 

“It was funny.”

“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries. 

“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him. 

God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.

“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”

You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness. 

“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.

“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer. 

“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.

“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.

“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you. 

“I am,” he said gently. 

You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.

You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.

The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting. 

He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him. 

“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener. 

“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key. 

“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup. 

“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly. 

“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.

“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.

“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment. 

“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.” 

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.  

This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing. 

@spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @lanassmarty @candy-coated-misery0731 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @murdockscumsock @the-achievementhunter @lyarr24 @rominaszh @zepskies @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @k-slla @mrlonelycat @taylortotsworld @ohnosy @angelbabyyy99 @impala1967rollingthroughtown @iwishiwasntreal @pasteldecrack @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @xshortputax @imsapphine @il0vebeingdelulu @gravesphillip @illicithallways @saturnsooya

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[kisses4kaia]

i’ve been seeing ppl do sej x coryo x reader and all the time i see dom sej, switch coryo, and sub reader and it gave me this idea.

i think it would be interesting to see dom coryo, switch sej, and sub reader. yes ik this is very much ooc BUT IDGAF 😵

the plot could be that coryo and sej find the reader’s diary that she kept hidden in a shoebox. in the diary she’s saying things like “oh i want coryo or sej so bad omg”(obviously not like that LMAO). i feel like you could put romance into this plot too by having them see that she also would write about these cute scenarios abt them both. TEETH ROTTING THINGS EVEN.

i’m not sure if coryo would be more gentle with sej bc in my mind he(coryo) would be the one to actually consider the things in the diary. sej is up for the idea, but he’s nervous abt doing this with coryo bc duh it’s his best friend.

anyways, i hope this is interesting enough to do bc i liked how you wrote sub sej!

(this was long asf i’m so sorry 😭😭 also, this doesn’t have to be a long ass fic! if you think this would be better as a longer fic or shorter fic, GO AHEAD‼️‼️)

YES I LOVE ! plz don’t apologize i loved hearing ur thoughts . oh and i changed some minor things about this but i still hope u enjoy💞

your blood ran cold as corio stood at the foot of the bed, your fuzzy pink diary in hand as sejanus stood next to him, arms crossed and a smug look on his face, as if he was trying to contain laughter. “god, i would die happy if i could sit on coriolanus’ face and have sejanus stuff his cock down my throat,” corio quoted your journal, an devilish, amused, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “such dirty words for such a shy girl. don’t you agree, sejanus?”

he meets the blond boys eyes and nods, in modest agreement. “i don’t know, corio, i’m not all that surprised. i mean, she practically begged to join our group for the project,” he cocked his head slightly as he reasoned, all too casual about the situation.

he hadn’t lied, when professor click assigned a project for groups of three, you immediately got to batting your eyelashes and flattery with the two boys. at first, your intentions were pure, only wanting to ensure a good grade for the assignment, and it made the most sense to try to get with sejanus and coriolanus, for they had the highest marks in the entirety of the class. you had wanted nothing but an ‘a’, until you began noticing how beautiful corio’s eyes were in the sunlight, and how full and plump sej’s lips were when he pushed a pencil through them in concentration, and you hadn’t even realized you’d begun spiraling. you entrusted your diary with all the details of your infatuation for the boys, and as you wrote on late, dark nights, you’d never expected to have the subjects of your logs read it. you were utterly mortified, and your paled expression did not conceal it well. “oh, come on now, darling. don’t be ashamed, we aren’t judging you,” coriolanus cooed at your rigid posture at the head of the bed.

today was supposed to be the last day. the last day you were working on the project, and you’d let them into your empty home, into your bedroom, and onto your bed. you had let them linger in your room while you grabbed your school bag from the living room, facilitating them just the right amount of time to snoop if they so pleased, and you should have known that they did. in their defense, how could sejanus even be blamed for reaching for the blush book sitting in such plain sight on your nightstand? how could coriolanus be at fault for reading more when the first page had ‘corio ♡’ and ‘sej ♡’ written about 30 times all over the lined paper? when you’d returned, completely oblivious to their snooping, corio had hidden it behind his back and obscured it from your view. it was only when you turned to grab a pen off of your nightstand, the nightstand in which you retired your diary to every night, that you noticed the pink rectangle missing. slowly, you turned to face the boys who were standing, your innermost thoughts and secrets in corio’s hands. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i promise. i just…” you’re stumbling over your words nervously and you can feel sweat forming on your brow.

corio just laughs before sejanus takes the book from him, thumbing to another page. “all i want is for sej to hold me in his strong arms while corio eats me out. i need him to call me a good girl, i need it, i need it, i need it,” as he reads, his voice is monotonous, but his face reads touched, pleased. he looks over to corio, and upon viewing the expression on his face, knowing exactly which gears are turning in that head of his, he shakes his head. “i don’t know, corio. is that really a good idea?” sej is hesitant, but the blond boy just keeps staring at you with hungry eyes, the brunette boys apprehension not deterring him from his goal one bit. “sejanus, she obviously wants it if she wrote a whole fucking novel on how bad she needs to get her holes filled by me and you,” he reasons, speaking as though you are not in the room, which sent shivers rampant all over your skin. “but together?” sejanus squeaks and corio’s expression of amusement shifts from you to him. “what, you don’t want to? because i’ll be here? c’mon, sejanus, let’s not pretend i can’t see you’re hard at the mere idea of seeing me cum inside of her,” sejanus just rolls his eyes and redirects his attention back to you. “you want this?” he’s walking slowly, closer and closer to you, you who’s sat pretty at the head of the queen-sized bed, like an unsuspecting doe while the wolves prey on you hungrily. coriolanus walks around the other side, and your senses are on fire, watching your two classmates stalk towards you with primal lust swirling in their deep eyes.

you can only nod weakly, afraid that if you were to make a sound, your own voice would betray you. “words, sweetheart,” corio says in a singsong voice, his hand reaching out to your chin, jerking it to force your eyes to meet his. “please,” you squeak, lower lip almost quivering. the blond boy pouts at you, before using his free hand to fall between your thighs, flipping your skirt up before petting your cunt over your embarrassingly damp panties. corio’s digits move skillfully as the pads of his fingers press through the fabric and onto your clit, pulling desperate whimpers out of you. you haven’t forgotten about sejanus in the slightest, hyper aware of his looming presence, but you were much too afraid to break eye contact with corio, so you simply whisper faintly under your breath “sejanus,”

corio lets up on his grip of your jaw and allows your eyes to land on sejanus, who’s palming his bulge through his trousers. his eyes read your needy ones before grabbing your hand and replacing his own. you gasp at the how large he feels even through the layers of fabric, and have to bite your lip to the point of breaking skin so as to contain a moan. corio’s ministrations feel good, so good, but it’s not enough. “more, please. need you, need you both” your eyes begin pricking with tears as you look back at the snow boy, face rendering as a plead as your hips buck weakly into his hand. “i know, baby, i know,” corio leans down and for the first time, presses a kiss to your lips, before pulling your panties to the side and sliding his middle digit into you with ease. you moan against the sweet lips on yours, and turn to face sejanus, eyes begging for permission as you toy with the button on his trousers. “go ahead, pretty,” sejanus breathes out, pleasure building up within him. as well as you can manage while under the influence of gratification corio is invoking upon you, you undo the button and the zipper of sejanus’ pants and pull them down along with his boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. you were mesmerized at first glance, he was beautiful; girthy, but still quite lengthy. prominent veins ran up and down him and his tip was a dark shade of vermillion, weeping with pre. you swear you thought drool was coming out of your mouth, because sejanus just smiles knowingly, guiding your hand back onto his cock.

at the same time, corio adds another finger to your tight cunt. his other hand comes in to use the pad of his thumb to draw calculated, deliciously meticulous, circles on your sensitive bud. you can tell sejanus is close from the way his eyes flutter shut as pleasure overtakes him, from how you can feel him twitch in your hand, and you know your release is coming soon, too. and when it does, pleasure courses through your veins, you had never felt anything like the orgasm corio talked you through. “fuck, yeah baby. cum all on my fingers, hm? poor, pretty, baby. so wound up f’me,”

not long after, you feel sejanus’ seed spill onto your hand, a string of explicits falling smoothly from his plump lips, along with moans of your name and praises for how good you make him feel. when his eyes reopen, you suddenly feel bolder than you did 20 minutes ago, and stare him down like he’s the prey, while licking his sperm off of your pretty, delicate, manicured, fingers. sejanus thinks—no, he knows—that could’ve made him cum again on the spot if corio hadn’t interjected, his tone a starved and vicious growl.

“on your knees, now.”

[sincerely-sofie]

Hi, I was the anon who had the idea of Skunktank running into Merit and Constance and idk if my ask made it through. I hope it didn’t, because I was not finished typing lmao-

But I imagine Skunktank doesn’t know much about Ruby’s past. She doesn’t want to talk about it. He does remember there was a period of time where Opal looked devastated, and that she wouldn’t explain what happened. Ruby showed up in Twig’s and Ark’s care not too long after. It’s only a little later he just happens to catch Ruby’s illusion waver a little, and he sees these . . . Scars. Scars that shouldn’t ever be on a child. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, that he saw it wrong, but he gnaws at the back of his head until he pulls Twig aside and tells her that maybe Ruby should be taken to the doctor, because he thinks he saw some scarring. Twig takes a deep inhale, pausing to find the words, and the longer she takes, the more dread Skunktank feels.

Eventually Twig tells him that they know about the scars, and that Ruby is recovering. She’s safe, so it’s best not to ask either of the girls about it. When Skunktank presses — out of concern, a rare sight from him — Twig tells him it’s not her story to tell. After another brief pause, she continues and says that she would appreciate it if he kept an eye out for two Hisuian Zoroarks — one normal, one shiny — always together with matching burn scars. She doesn’t want Skunktank to do anything other than tell her and Ark where they are and if they’re coming anywhere close to the village. That’s it. Do NOT do anything else. If he won’t listen for Twig, listen for Ruby and Opal.

Skunktank can’t get anymore information, so he lets it go for now. Ruby is safe and healthy, so that’s all that matters. If anyone can keep her safe, it’s legendary battler Twig and nightmare bringer Ark. It’s put in the back of his mind. Some time later, when he’s away from the village, he bumps into two Pokémon with burn scars all over their hands. When they fall, their illusions drop and reveal two Hisuian Zoroarks, their burn scars still remaining. Skunktank sees their claws, and his mind flashes back to the shape of Ruby’s scars and Twig’s warning. He knows who they are now. He looks at them, and he can’t help but feel sick. He’s nauseated. He wonders if he’s staring at another imagine of himself — a version that went too far. A version that would have just shrugged their shoulders at the thought of those little Azurill and Marill kids going into the Amp Plains to get their treasure back, uncaring if they got hurt. A version of themselves that got two kids in the form of a Mudkip and Charmander hurt.

These two are attempted murderers, free to go due to lack of evidence, leaving their baby sister with scars from a wound that it was a miracle that she survived from.

It’s no wonder Twig hates him. He’s looking into some distorted mirror — one that’s not entirely accurate, but still displays a general image — and he hates what he’s looking at too.

ANON I’M LOSING MY MIND

I did get the ask, actually! I’ve just been slowing down answering asks in general because I’m (yet again) sick as a dog, and I wanted to give that ask a more extensive, drawn response!

Here’s an incomplete teaser where Twig and Ark ask Skuntank to take Ruby out on a walk for her physical therapy while they’re stuck dealing with legal stuff. They encounter Merit and Constance while out and about.

For some bonus context, despite Ruby’s strong preference to hide her bandages (and later her scars) using illusions, she’s been instructed to avoid using illusions whatsoever. However, she’s still keeping her form of a unovan zorua secret, so she’s still using that illusion:

[callsign-rogueone]

midnight snow - d.a.

Dain Aetos x crush!reader  part of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 734 🏷: no real spoilers, no pronouns used for the reader! for the sake of this story, leadership has night duty like college RAs (Dain gives me overly-serious RA energy lmao). reader is implied to be shorter than Dain but in my head he’s like. 6’2 so 🤷🏻‍♀️

meet me on the south side of the courtyard at midnight, the note had read.

In the distance, the bell tower tolls twelve times. Where are they?

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” your dragon scolds. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.”

You shush her urgently, flattening your body against the wall as footsteps approach, and drawing the blade from your side.

As soon as the dark shape of a person appears in your vision, you press them up against the wall, dagger poised to strike.

“It’s just me!” A familiar voice says through the dark.

“Dain?” You ask, stunned. You release him quickly, laughing in bewilderment as he steps into the light.

He blinks at you, confused. “What’s so funny?”

“You’ve never broken a rule in your life, but you were the one who left me that cryptic-ass note saying to sneak out after curfew?” You ask, sheathing the blade.

He blushes. “I just wanted to see you. But I’m on watch tonight, so technically, you’re the only one who snuck out.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you tease, rubbing your arms. You hadn’t realized how cold it was out here until now, the adrenaline having faded as soon as you realized who you were meeting here.

He drapes the cloak he’s holding over your shoulders, wrapping you in soft warmth and the comforting scent of standard-issue soap and something distinctly him.

You close your eyes for a moment, just content to stand here by his side. 

“Look,” he says quietly, nodding toward the archway in front of you. A soft winter snowfall has started. 

You watch in amazement as a wash of tiny white flakes swirl with the wind, drifting across the courtyard. “It never snows where I’m from. We just get rain all winter.”

He reaches forward, catching a few tiny flakes on his hand. “No two are identical.”

You point at a pair on his index finger. “That one’s you, and that one’s me.”

His breath forms a gentle cloud of heat in front of him as he laughs. “Yeah?”

You hum in affirmation. “Totally different, but both made up of the same thing, with the same goal.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Only you could give snow human feelings.”

“I’m trying to be poetic here, mister logical,” you huff.

“My apologies. Please continue.” 

The two flakes are starting to melt against the warmth of Dain’s hand. “They’re only here for a short while before they fade and return to the earth, but they’re beautiful while they last.”

“Stronger together than they are separately,” he adds quietly, wrapping an arm around you.

You smile, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

For a moment, all is calm and quiet. The snow continues to fall, but you’re warm under Dain’s cloak, pressed against his side, watching the ground slowly be covered by the white flakes.

Two sets of heavy footsteps approach: Infantry, on their watch.

Dain steps back to give you a few feet of space, but he doesn’t suggest that you run or hide. “I was thinking for squad battle this year, we should pair based on strength to balance things out,” he says, and you blink, confused until you realize what he’s doing.

You’re hiding in plain sight.

“Yeah,” you agree. “That gives the smaller squads a fighting chance, and that way it’s still a challenge for everyone, but we won’t lose as many. Our numbers are already too low.”

You hold your breath as they pass, glancing at you wordlessly before continuing on their way. When you’re sure they’re gone, you sigh in relief, giggling. “Nice recovery there, wingleader. Sounded very official.”

Dain laughs, pulling you back into his embrace. “Thank you.”

You yawn softly, resting your head against his shoulder. It’s nearing one in the morning, and you’ve had a long day.

He rubs your back gently. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” He takes your hand, leading you back upstairs to your room in near-silence until you reach your door.

You reach for the clasp of the cloak to give it back, but he stops you. 

“Keep it,” he says. “It looks good on you.”

Feeling brave, you stand a little taller, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Dain.”

He spends the rest of his watch wandering the halls, replaying that moment in his mind until the sun rises.

[yiiiikesmish]

ITS THE BEST TIME OF THE WEEK. SLOW HORSES EP 5 IS HERE.

ugh today has been awful i had two internals like an hour apart and def fucked them both so feeling incredibly drained and dead on the inside so hopefully this ep makes me feel better...

anyways... can't believe next week it the last episode of the season??? like what will i do after this??? how shall i survive??? idk but that's future me problem. enjoy my thoughts as i watch :)

you know french people... baguettes river cartwright i love you so much

wtf is this ex-CIA freak doing in the us then???? if he wanted an army cult americans literally have hundreds?? he'd hide in plain sight????

I WILL MISS U MOLLY DONT LISTEN TO THE MEAN MAN

you will literally never be able to make me skip the slow horses into credit thingy. masterpiece.

RIVERS MOTHER??? ARE WE ABOUT TO GET ANSWERS???

what the fuck did this lady do for river to stop talking to her???

CLAUDE IS GALAHAD WHAT??? FUCKING PLOT TWIST???

i love louisa. girlboss <3

omg girl just turn the fucking computer screen around.

TOUCH A HAIR ON GITIS HEAD ILL REACH THROUGH THIS SCREEN AND MURDER YOU

baby you work for an intelligence agency. why would you think there is no corruption?

i swear i'm trying to pay attention to the plot but jesus christ river is so pretty. those blue eyes the beard like he's precious and i love him so so much.

omg shut the FUCK up. WE KNOW YOU WANT TO SPEAK TO FIRST DESK.

HALLELUJA ANSWERS

he wanted to??? mate he fucking did create his little death squad. i wanna know WHY and how the daughter met frank and went yup i want.

oh i feel bad for patrice ik he's an assassin but like look at him. he's absolutely a product of his shitty circumstances and this weird dad worship thing

LMAO RODDYS BEEN TALKING TO A FUCKING BOT. HELP

you actually got quite close. stan a sassy king

NO MOLLY. wait he didn't kill her???

CLAUDE WHELEN??? WHAT IS UP WITH THIS GUY ONE SECOND I THINK HES AN AIRHEAD MEXT THING WE KNOW FRANK KNOWS HIS NAME (meaning he did something BAD) AND HES GOT SMTH TO DO W PROSTITUTES???

WHY ARE THERE NO REFLEXES??? ARE YOU NOT DOGS??? SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS MAN OUT OF THESE CUFFS???

well shit. rivers fucked.

patrice is not killing him???? just kidnapping? oop there went the civilian

WAIT NO WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS IT COME BACK WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON COME BACK