#i would recommend watching that one yourself because it was just a moment of sorry what the fuck

[idkvomite]

Satoru x gn!reader ୨୧ WARNING: Angst. Inspired by Let The Light In because yes. I recommend listening to the song while reading.

You remember very well the first time you crossed eyes with Satoru. That confident smile, the light, loud laugh, the signature black blindfold, and above all, those blue eyes. They reminded you of the ocean, the morning sky, the calm beach days. He was the perfect man. More than perfect. He was your crush at Jujutsu Tech.

Crush?

That word makes you smile to yourself, because the memories of when you were an immature teenager, full of ideas about love, now seem so far away. Like when you used to fall for any TV heartthrob, feeling butterflies in your stomach, not knowing if it was a fleeting crush or something deeper. Shoko would always tell you that you liked every guy in the world, as if it were natural, but that only happened because you hadn’t found someone like him until that moment.

The memories keep playing like scenes from a movie, until finally, that day arrives—the day you spoke for the first time. That dumb mission that left you with a swollen, bruised eye, barely able to walk for days. And he had to save you, like always, with that calm gaze, as if it was easy for him—and it was. Your pride was bruised for needing his help. But, as always, he didn’t seem to care. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. And you, afraid of being seen as weak, found yourself sinking even deeper into a desire you couldn’t even explain at that moment. You weren’t just in love with what he was anymore, but with what he did to your heart, even without realizing it.

Deep down, you always knew he would never be the guy you could have. Never the kind of person you could hold without fear, without wondering what he really felt. Always so distant, so out of reach. Still, year after year, you stayed there, following him, like a spectator lost in a never-ending story. Until he became something more. A refuge, an obsession, an impossible dream.

Until he became your everything.

But now, when you see him there, cut in half, his insides spilling out, and the immense pain still lingering in the air, you realize everything was an illusion. Nothing was real. What was left of Satoru Gojo was just a piece of the man you once knew.

The fight against Sukuna had been brutal. They exchanged blows so strong it felt like the whole world was shaking with each impact. But what couldn’t be ignored was what was in Satoru’s eyes: exhaustion, pain, and the certainty of an ending. He knew he couldn’t escape. He knew it was over. And worst of all, you knew too.

— Satoru... — your voice falters as you kneel beside him. The words slip out, as if hearing his name was the only thing that could make a sound, but he can’t hear it anymore. Satoru Gojo’s final battle was against his own fate, and he lost.

You watch his gaze, still vivid, even with his body torn apart.

— I know — he whispers, his voice faint. — I know, I’m sorry, [your name].

His breathing is irregular, blood seeping from the wounds in his body. Yet he smiles. He’s still Satoru, the guy who never showed fear, the guy who never let anyone see what was happening inside.

— I... — He pauses for a moment, as if the pain is too much to continue, but then he gathers strength. — I know it’s not the right time... but you need to know... I had dreams too.

Those words hit you like a punch. Dreams? The strongest man, the unbeatable one, also had dreams?

You hold his hand, his cold, trembling fingers in yours. He smiles back, but it’s a tired smile, the kind that knows he’s about to leave.

— Yes. I had a dream. A silly dream... of being a normal human. — He continues.

You cling to those words, as if they could keep you grounded. As if by hearing them, you could believe he was still here, still existing. But deep down, you know you’re losing him, and there’s nothing you can do.

His eyelids flutter slowly, heavy as though they weighed a thousand tons. The last look he gives you is filled with something you can’t quite understand, something that perhaps he had kept just for you, something that transcends even death.

— You... will live, right? At least a little longer. — He asks suddenly, changing the subject. His voice falters, but the words come with such a heavy weight, so full of goodbye, that you feel an intense ache in your chest.

Then he smiles again, as if finally surrendering to the peace he had been seeking for so long. But before his eyes close for the last time, he whispers, almost like a secret shared only between you two:

— I love you, you know?

Those words echo in your mind, clearer than anything you’ve ever heard. You can’t respond. Silence takes over, as if the universe had paused just so you could absorb that truth, that farewell. And so, he goes. Without a sound. Without warning. Just silence, and a world that seems to have stopped spinning around you.

You know that his dream of being normal was buried with him. And you, who always got lost in the memories of his blue eyes, now have to find a way to go on without him.

Because in the end, his dreams were more real than you ever imagined. Finally, you understand that the strongest man was just like you—just a human, someone ordinary with his own desires and feelings, someone who longed for something more and couldn’t reach it.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

This isn't even all of it by the way. He gets asked if he knows what happened at Tiananmen Square, twice if I'm remembering correctly, as well as being asked if he agrees that what China is doing to Uyghur Muslims is genocide.

Oh, and also he's asked if he's afraid that next time he goes to mainland China, he'll be in trouble or get arrested.

This hearing was about child safety on social media apps.

it's really cold war 2.0 💀

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

On Set Shenanigans || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

GIFS by me :) cred if use!!

Summary: just a bunch of random scenarios on set I thought of while I was in the shower lmao 🤣

Warnings: noneee

Wc: 1,553

A/n: sorta all over the place sorry lmao

Divider by @pommecita

“If you could describe Y/n and Tom in one word, what would you say?” Rachel purses her lips, side eyeing the two of you who were watching her with silly grins. “Y/n and Tom are,” Rachel hums, tapping her chin as she breaks out into a chuckle.

“Goofy.” You and Tom turn to each other and just break into laughter. “They are seriously the most goofiest people I have met in my entire life! There is never a dull moment on set when these two around,” Rachel shakes her head as she smiles at the two of you who blow kisses her way.

“Tom and Y/n, there’s a behind the scenes video circulating around of the two of you in costume, dancing to Low by Flo Rida,” “Oh my god,” You drop your head on Tom’s shoulder as the two of you couldn’t help wipe the grin off your faces.

“Yes, there is,” Tom laughs as they put up said video. “If you guys haven’t see it, here it is,” Dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, white singlet with his dog tag out, and you in your outfit, you and Tom were dancing along to your favourite song to dance to, Low by Flo Rida.

Rachel was recording the video during your break and was dying of laughter. The camera was shaking the entire time because of it. You and Tom loved goofing around and dancing.

You could say it was your love language. You grab Tom’s peacekeeper hat and plop out on your head slightly wonky as you move along to the song, acting as if you were at a club in Berlin and not on set. The way you and Tom danced and moved to the music just made so much sense.

“She turned around and gave that big booty a smack,” Tom spun around as you slap his ass causing an eruption of laughter from everyone who was watching.

You and Tom were trying to hold your composure but that failed miserably as you grab Tom’s arms to stabilise yourself but turned out he had no sense of stability at that moment as the two of you fall to the ground. A light scream leaving your lips as you fall on top of Tom.

And then the camera focused on the ground as Rachel had leaned over, hands on thighs as she laughed out loud. If anyone didn’t know the context of that clip, they probably would have thought that you two were drunk but truth was you were quite sober.

The crowd on set burst out into laughter as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, Tom laughing along with the host as he pats your head.

~

“What do you usually do when you’re not filming on set?” Tom gives you a look as you bite back a laugh. “I think everyone knows this but, film tiktoks” The crowd breaks into laughter as they knew what you were talking about.

“Yeah Y/n is always filming tiktok and forcing me to do them with her,” Tom grips your thigh, shaking it lightly as you roll your eyes. “No I do not, you always want to be in them!” You argue with him. “Why don’t we watch a few of them here?” Kelly Clarkson recommended as you squeeze Tom’s arm with a smile.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CQrdGn8AYiD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The first tiktok was of you, Tom, Rachel, and Josh in your trailer. You had the idea in your head for a while now and showed them all. “Please don’t drop me babe,” You say to Tom as you set up the camera, “I would never,” You hear him say followed by giggle.

You expected to land in Tom’s arms. Not the floor. You let out a yelp as Tom slaps his hand over his mouth. The three of them laughing their asses off while you landed on yours with a loud thud. “It’s not funny you idiot,” You slap his arm as he picks you up, apologising to you by peppering your face with kisses.

You had to admit it was pretty funny rewatching the tiktok. “You weren’t supposed to catch my feet!” You say in between laughs as you post the tiktok.

~

“This one, captioned name a better duo, I’ll wait has gone quite viral with over 10 million views,” Kelly exclaims as you cross your legs at your knees nodding your head as the video plays on the screen. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNVsM6kw/

“Tom,” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder as he hums. You had just finished filming a scene together and had abit of time before you were up again. You were both in your mentor outfits, Tom having his blonde locks today.

“I wanna film this tiktok, come be in it?” You urge him as he looks up from his phone seeing a glint of playfulness in your eyes as he lets out a sigh.

Tom secretly loved making tiktoks with you, especially since he wasn’t on it and found the stuff you make him do were interesting and funny. You had hundreds of random tiktoks that you filmed on set saved into your drafts, half of them were of you and Tom.

Your hair stylist helped film the tiktok as the two of you did it out in the open, a bunch of the filming team watching with curiosity and laughing as they walk by. Other cast members such as Josh, Hunter and a bunch of the mentor actors walked by ended up being in the background of it.

You and Tom moved along to the beat, literally just vibing to the music. You wrote on the tiktok “the funniest duo on set>>>” and you weren’t lying.

~

“We are here with the cast of the Hunger Games Prequel, the ballad of songbirds and snakes!” The crowd cheered as you, Tom, Josh, and Rachel smiles. “From what I’ve seen, you guys are actually TikTok sensations!” An eruption of laughter followed.

“This TikTok here specifically,” https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqguTEY/ you all turn your head to watch the TikTok play on screen as you all start to laugh. “Tom, where were you while this was happening,” The host looks at Tom whose eyes were trained on the ground, a grin forming on his lips.

“I’m actually there in the tiktok, on the bed. Trying to sleep.” He deadpans as you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder as you grip his arm. “Yeah this was after we came back from partying in Berlin, obviously for some of us, our night didn’t end yet,” Tom chuckles as everyone bursts out in laughter.

“Let’s do that tiktok!” You squeal the second you enter the room. Opening up tiktok, you find the video and show Josh, Hunter, Rachel, and Tom it. Tom’s arms were thrown around your shoulders, his head resting on your head due to the height difference.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” He yawns, kissing your cheek before you all bid him goodnight. Tom couldn’t even get 5 minutes of peacefulness as the four of you spill into the bedroom and set up your phone. He lets out a quiet groan at the noise and flashing of lights as he digs his head deep into his pillow.

~

“Babeee,” You call out as you step into the hair and makeup trailer. He was sitting on a chair, fully dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, hair free from his wig.

He looked more presentable compared to you and Rachel who still had hair rollers on and were still in your robes. You had seen a new trend going around tiktok where you would stare at a guy with Justin Timberlake’s mirrors playing in the background, and you wanted to do it with Tom https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqnRSNJ/

One side of his lips turns up as he looks up at you, “I’m filming a tiktok and I want you to be in it,” You say with puppy eyes although you know he wouldn’t refuse. You even got his hair and makeup artists, Stacey and Jade to be in on it too.

You pull up a chair beside Tom as you set up the camera. “Wait what am I supposed to do?” He asks, “Nothing, just sit there,” You innocently smile at him as he gives you a suspicious look but nods nonetheless, complying with whatever you were up to.

He honestly just expected to be on camera while you were doing something, but he did not expect to be stared down at by his girlfriend and hair and makeup artists. You stare intensely at Tom, trying your hardest to not laugh or look away.

Staring at your boyfriend has always not been an easy task, especially since he holds such intense eye contact. And his pretty blue eyes did not help at all. Tom tries not to laugh either as he gazes at you before his eyes flicker towards Stacey and Jade then back to you. “What’s going on,” He finally says as his body shakes from laughing.

The TikTok ends and you let out a small laugh, looking over the TikTok. You throw your head back in laughter at Tom’s face when you all look back to stare at him, honestly was priceless.

[wannabeschyulersister]

lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Bucket List || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: Life changes in the blink of an eye with a diagnosis and you are forced to face your mortality with the help of Charles Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, implied smut, grief, implied character death.

WC: 5.8k

Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later

The winter break was meant to be a time for Charles to relax but one simple act had put an end to those plans. It had been a little joke between lovers while you were getting dressed. Charles had seen an opportunity and taken it, cradling the swell of your breast in his palm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Honk, honk!”

You gasped at the sudden pain that flared and rubbed at the aching area. Charles was immediately sorry, apologising profusely as he brushed your hand aside and massaged it gently for you.

“It’s ok, Cha, this one’s been a bit tender lately.”

“What do you mean?” His concern was palpable and his hand flattened so the palm was pressing into your flesh. You couldn’t hide the wince at the spot he touched and he couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes.

“What?!” You stepped away and grabbed your breast, almost immediately feeling what he felt as your heart began to hammer hard in your chest. “It’s probably nothing, boobs are lumpy all the time.”

“Yeah…” he murmured distractedly. “We should probably check just to be sure. Right?”

You tried to nod casually but it was too hurried. “I mean, just to be sure.”

Everything moved quickly after that. The exhaustion was no longer jet lag. The low red blood count was no longer anaemia. The lump was no longer just fatty tissue.

“What happens now?”

You looked at your boyfriend, but his eyes were fixed on the doctor who had been explaining the test results. Charles had done all of the talking while you sat in a state of shock. You didn’t even feel like you were inside your own body but floating somewhere in the room and watching from outside.

“We could take a biopsy to be certain but the tests so far are quite conclusive and I wouldn’t recommend waiting. We could fit you in to remove the tumour in the next couple of days and have you home for Christmas.”

You knew this already. He had spoken about removing the lump. You couldn’t bring yourself to call it a tumour because, benign or malignant, it made it too real. Removing the lump was the extreme simplification of what he really meant. Mastectomy. Double to be precise. The risk was too great to leave the other breast untreated, apparently.

“We’ll take the surgery as soon as possible.”

You blinked at Charles, waiting to see if he would even look in your direction before making such a decision but his chin was resting on the tip of his steepled fingers. He leaned forwards, digging his elbows into his knees as he always did when he was deep in thought.

“No,” you rasped. “I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Charles replied without even looking at you. He had hardly looked your way since the first appointment a week ago.

“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Doctor Hall said softly as he rose from his chair and left the room, the click of the door closing too loud in the heavy silence.

“It’s my body, Charles,” you whispered, your throat too hoarse to manage anything louder.

“I know that, but this is your life we are talking about.”

“We don’t even know for certain that it’s…that it’s…”

“It’s cancer,” he said with a sigh, “not saying it doesn’t change the test results.”

Your eyes burned, your tear ducts working overtime all week. The harsh lines on Charles’ face softened as he saw them well on your waterline before spilling over. Pulling you into his lap, he cradled your head to his chest as you ruined yet another one of his shirts with your makeup and tears.

“Mon amour, we will get through this but we have to trust the doctors.”

“I won’t have boobs,” you whispered as your voice broke.

Charles curled his finger under your chin and tipped it back as he searched your eyes for the answer. He found what he was looking for and dropped his forehead to yours with a shake of his head. “You will still be the most beautiful woman in the world. And I need you in the world, mon amour, do you understand that? I need you to fight this.”

A few days turned out to be just one after the oncology department received a large, anonymous donation. The private room in the hospital was filled with bouquets from friends and family, their floral scents were almost able to erase the tart smell of bleach. You still felt numb to the entire experience and Charles watched on with concern as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Your reflection was the same, yet it wasn’t. Permanent marker pen lined the skin that would soon be permanently marred. The outlines accentuated what would be taken from you and you turned to your side profile, trying to imagine waking up without the pieces of your body Charles had loved.

“The surgeon said there are options, if it’s really that important to you,” Charles said as he pushed off the doorway he had leaned against and walked into the room. “But you don’t have to think about that now.”

You let him drape the surgical gown over your arms and they fell limp at your side while he tied the bows to keep your modesty. “Come and lay down with me,” he murmured as he took your hand and led you to the bed. You hadn’t been sleeping well, neither of you had.

It was narrow but Charles made space for you to lay in his arms with his chest pressed to your back. Monaco was alive outside the window you faced but the sounds didn’t reach you. Instead of watching the cars on their journeys you turned your eyes up to the cloudless sky and spotted the gulls that danced in the salt air.

“I lo-.”

Charles’ chest shuddered with the breath he took before he kissed your temple and whispered, “Don’t.”

“I need to tell you.”

“We promised, not until you wake up.”

“But what if I-”

“Don’t,” Charles begged, a wet drop falling into your hair. “Please.”

A knock sounded at the door but you kept your eyes firmly only the white feathers of the bird that landed on your windowsill outside. Charles pressed his lips to your temple once more before releasing you from his hold and climbing off the bed.

“I’ll be right there when you wake up, mon amour.”

“I…I’ll see you soon.”

He smiled sadly as you caught yourself from saying what you wanted to say, that sad smile remaining while your bed was wheeled away. You craned your neck as you were taken further down the hall, wanting to memorise the way he looked in case it was the last time you had the chance.

As promised, you woke up bleary eyed and groggy to those gold and green eyes, his hands holding yours tenderly as he sat beside your bed.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted as his smile brightened your day. It was a true smile, one you hadn’t seen for over a week, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and revealed the dimples in his cheeks. “I love you.”

You felt drunk as the anaesthesia still circulated your body and you were sure you slurred the words you had been banned from telling him before. “I love you.”

You dozed in and out of consciousness until the pain relief began to wear off and breathing itself hurt. The bandages across your chest irritated your skin and the stitches pulled with every little movement. Charles noticed it all.

“I’ll see if they can give you anything for the pain.”

You caught his hand before he could leave and winced as the IV line in your hand tugged uncomfortably. “I’m hungry.”

Charles chuckled, knowing you would be after eating nothing before the surgery, and cradled your cheek gently. “Maman’s on her way with your favourites. I’ll be right back, baby.”

Charles arrived back with a large bag of hot dishes from your favourite restaurants around the city and the promise that the nurse would bring some medicine around soon. 

“We’ll have someone come and move you up to the ward shortly,” the kind nurse said after she had given you another dose of pain relief. “You’ll be able to see your visitors there.”

You thanked her since you knew your parents would have been waiting with Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo too. Charles had been keeping them updated since you woke up and his phone was constantly going off with notifications from your friends. 

“How are you feeling?”

You placed your fork down into the empty bowl and Charles whisked it off your lap and tidied up the rubbish with the need to keep himself busy. “I don’t know,” you admitted as your head began to clear from the anaesthesia. “Two weeks ago we were partying in Baku and now we’re here. I still don’t know how this even happened. What if they made a mistake? This was all done so quickly.”

Charles carefully tucked the sheet back around your body after helping you to lie back down. “Mon amour, this is one of the best hospitals, they wouldn’t have done this unless it was the right decision for your health.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t know how to feel anything right now, except confusion.” You took his hand as he sat back into the chair beside your bed and kissed his knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Me?” His brows pinched together as if he hadn’t been thinking for himself, and he really hadn’t. All of his thoughts and feelings had been focused on you. “I’m relieved, I suppose. You are here, I get to kiss you and hold your hand. That is good.”

You smiled at the hope in his voice. “I don’t remember a kiss.”

“Ah,” he hummed with a nod as he leaned closer until his lips were so close you could feel the heat of them as he whispered, “This one.”

You were warned that day two would be the hardest. The hard drugs had worn off and what you were supplied with took away the dull throbbing ache when you were stationary but did nothing to prevent the sharp pain of moving. 

Charles had just lifted you back into bed after helping you go to the bathroom when the surgeon arrived with a forlorn look on his face. Immediately you felt the air leave the room.

Doctor Hall started with the good news, that the surgery went as planned with minimal bleeding from the tissue removal, but then there was a pause. Your fingers tightened around Charles hand as the doctor flipped the piece of paper on his clipboard over and clicked the end of his pen. 

“When we began the removal of the tumour we found that the shape wasn’t exactly as we expected from the ultrasound.” He drew an oval shape on the paper before adding webs spindling off in all directions and pointing to them. “We removed as many of the tentacles as we could find but they are invasive and so we would like to start chemotherapy as soon as you have recovered from the operation.”

Charles' knee shook the bed as it bounced nervously. “Chemo?”

“Does this mean it is definitely c-cancer?” you stumbled over the word as you said it aloud for the first time.

The doctor nodded. “We were quite sure before but pathology confirmed it with the sample we sent.” 

“What about Christmas?” you asked. “Can I still go home for Christmas?”

The doctor nodded again and you exhaled in relief. Christmas had been organised to be held at your house for months and it would give you a chance to do something normal after your life had been thrown off the rails. You needed this Christmas. 

“We will schedule you in for after New Years, but you wouldn’t want to delay it much further than that.”

“Thank you,” Charles choked out for the both of you as you fell silent and he left. “What are you thinking so hard about, beautiful?”

“The menu. It needs to be special. And I want to invite everyone.”

“What, slow down, what are you talking about?”

“Christmas, Cha, I need to start planning now.”

Charles knew you were deflecting, pouring yourself into a future task so you didn’t have to think about the present. You had already gone through enough, so he bit his tongue and took a second to clear the thoughts he wanted to voice. Instead, he asked, “who, exactly, is everyone?”

“Slow down, you’re meant to be relaxing,” Charles warned as you rushed around the house for a last minute tidy up. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby, let me help.”

“I love you, but please leave this to me. I know where everything is.”

“I do too,” he exclaimed, falling silent when you picked up a remote that had stopped working. You had asked him to get the batteries for it the night before, but he hadn’t been able to find them. 

“Second drawer in the kitchen,” you said as you tossed it to him and folded the blanket you snuggled under with him every night. “But you knew that right.”

He sent you a charming smile as he backed out of the room. “Of course, honey.”

You chuckled at his retreating figure. “Thought so.”

You had just finished lighting the scented candles around the house when the front door opened and Arthur breezed into the living room. 

“Merry Christmas, ma chére. Shouldn’t you have your feet up?” he tutted as he kissed your cheeks, careful not to hug you since your chest still hurt. 

“Merry Christmas, Tuthur.” His smile lifted at the old nickname and it only grew as you said, “You know how well your brother cooks. Be glad I don’t have my feet up.”

Everyone arrived steadily after Arthur and as the night grew colder every seat in the living room was taken by your guests. You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas as you sat on Charles lap and listened to Joris recount how he had spent the winter break so far.

You could have imagined it being just like every other family Christmas, but it wasn’t.

You were self-conscious in a way you never were before. The dresses you had loved so much were now something you couldn’t bear to wear as it accentuated the changes in your body. You had taken one shopping trip with Pascale so you could buy some presents but by the time you had got home there was a photo circulating the F1 WAG pages. The comments had nearly made you sick as they compared your flat chest to that of a young boy, or joked that the championship wasn’t the only thing that was lost at the end of the season. 

You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out but you doubted they would feel any remorse, anyone who could say such things through a keyboard didn’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt. 

When midnight came and went, so too did the guests. Tipsy and jolly, they said their goodbyes and well wishes until the house fell quiet except for the music playing softly from the speakers. Charles pulled you into his arms and gently rocked you side to side as you laid your head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, mon amour. I didn’t know what to get you this year, so I was absolutely selfish and got this.”

Charles stepped out of your embrace as he dropped to one knee and held a ring out. Similarly designed to his mother’s, the ring was timeless and elegant with a large princess cut diamond. “Will you make me the happiest man and marry me?”

You had waited years for the question but the answer that fell from your lips went against every fibre of your being. Your hands covered your mouth but there was no silencing the words as they hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Confusion slapped Charles’ pink cheeks and he swallowed twice before his voice could work again. “Why not?”

“You know why,” you whispered. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Because I’m sick, and I don’t want to make plans if I’m not going to be there to…I just don’t think now is the right time.” You took the ring from his fingers and sighed with longing. “It’s beautiful, Char.”

“Hold on to it for me,” he said as he stood up and closed your hand around it. “When you beat this, I’ll be waiting, mon amour, however long it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

You held the ring tight as you closed the distance and put all the words and emotion you couldn’t articulate into a kiss, deepening it until you were breathless and needy. “Come to bed,” you breathed against his lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked pained by the very idea, or maybe it was the weeks of celibacy after your surgery.

Lacing your fingers together, you took a step towards the stairs and gently tugged him to follow. “You could never hurt me.”

The moment had been weeks in the making as the chemotherapy took its toll on you. For days after the treatment you had been ill and Charles had been at your side with a bowl ready for when you emptied the contents of your stomach. Then your muscles ached and you could barely hold your own weight up to walk. Just when you thought the worst had come to pass you felt the first strands come loose.

“Hello, my dear,” Pascale answered your call, only to be met with a hiccup. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“M-my hair,” you stammered as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Charles had been out shopping but you saw his face appear behind you as you turned to show him what filled your gripped fist. “It’s my hair.”

“I’ll be over shortly, just let me lock up the shop,” Pascale soothed before ending the call.

“I just brushed it,” you hiccuped as you touched your hair again, more of it floating to the tile floor. “It won’t stop.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as he took your hand and brushed the hair from your palm. “Maman will know what to do. We’ll get through this like we have everything else, together.”

Pascale promised she could have a wig made for you if you wanted one but it was already late in the evening and you knew she was exhausted from working all day. You did however accept her offer to shave the rest of your head so at least the patches of missing hair didn’t stand out as much. Charles had sat with you in the bathroom and held your hand the entire time before asking his mother to shave his next.

“No, I love your hair,” you argued as he pulled his shirt over his head to save it from getting covered in the short dark strands.

“I told you we are doing this together,” he replied as he kissed your knuckles and nodded to his mum to proceed.

It took a while to get used to the smooth feel of skin on your head but you came to prefer it to the wig that Pascale crafted, somehow finding hair that was almost the exact same shade and texture to your natural hair. The moment you got home from any outing you would pull the wig off with a grateful moan just as you used to do with your bra.

“Are you going to be alright? Maman said she can come and stay with you.” Charles sat on his suitcase so he could zip it closed before looking up to where you sat in bed with a book on your lap. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “It’s only for two nights.”

His team had let him get away with having one extra night at home before going to Bahrain for the 2024 pre-season testing, but it was still too long away from you in his eyes. You would have been with him but you were due some follow up tests.

“You’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to miss me,” you teased, spurring him to climb onto the bed and cage you beneath him.

“I miss you every second we are apart.”

You recognised the number calling your cell phone because you still had nightmares from the last time they rang. A pit of dread was already opening in your gut as you hovered your finger over the green button. You debated not answering the call but if you didn’t answer it then he would try Charles’ number next - and he needed to focus on driving.

You wished you never answered the call.

You had been quiet the entire drive from the airport to the hotel Charles was staying at. He wasn’t one to push you to talk before you were ready but he was certainly worried when he reached across the gearbox and placed his hand on your lap. He spared a glance to you as he gently squeezed your thigh but still you didn’t react, or take his hand, or even blink.

You didn’t remember the walk from the car to the hotel room. You were busy thinking about how you were going to break Charles’ heart, something you had never imagined you would have a hand in. You never wanted to hurt him, you loved him more than life itself, a life that was going to be shorter than you had once thought.

Charles stood quietly in the doorway to the bedroom, your suitcase still in his hand. He watched as you pulled your wig off for the first time since leaving Monaco and listened as you sighed heavily. His feet only carried him closer when you pulled a piece of paper from your pocket and held it out silently.

“What’s this?” Charles asked as he unfolded the note you had written on the plane. You had almost 10 hours to think of everything you wanted to do while you could and his eyes scanned over the list. “Baby, what is this?”

“It’s my bucket list.”

“A bucket list?”

“It’s a list of what I want to do before I die.”

“I know what a bucket list is!” He took a breath and ran his hand over the fuzz that had grown back on his scalp before lowering his voice as he shook the paper. “Why am I holding yours?”

His green eyes blurred with tears as you bit your lip and looked at your feet. He was already shaking his head in denial, wet droplets soaking into the list.

“My results came back…”

“Non, non, baby, non…”

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you choked as he fell to his knees and let the paper fall to the floor. His arms encircled your hips and you cradled the back of his head to your stomach as he cried against you. You finally let your own tears fall, the tears you had held back since you received the news. “I’m so sorry.”

Charles missed testing the next morning as he held you in his arms. The tears had long run out but the sadness still remained. He had laid with you all night as close as your bodies would allow and together you had seen the sunrise over the desert. He had listened to you quietly recount the doctor’s words but most of it made no sense to him. 

Metastasized. Stage four. Terminal. The information ruined him.

“How long?” he finally asked. He looked at the paper that was still on the bedroom floor before clearing his throat and trying again. “How long do we have?”

You didn’t know if answering him would help or not but he was waiting for an answer as you rolled over to face him. The last three months had taken a toll on him and dark circles rimmed his eyes and they no longer held the same brightness. They were only going to dim more at the news. “Six months, maybe a year.”

He was silent, but you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Emotions warred behind his eyes before he climbed out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You hated the silence but the screaming was worse. The painful wail echoed around the room and you felt it shatter something deep in your chest, before something shattered in the bathroom.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you held yourself together while Charles fell apart.

You weren’t sure how long he screamed at the universe, how many times he asked it why, what he had done to deserve to lose someone else he loved. You weren’t sure how long it took him to clean the blood from his fist and wash his face of the tears before he unlocked the door and slipped back into the bed.

“Whatever you want, mon amour,” he promised as he unclenched your hands and curled his body around yours. “Anything you want to do, we’ll do it. We’ll do it all together.”

You stood at the edge of the lookout and smiled at Charles as he took the photo, another one for the memory box you were making together. Charles kept his promise, taking you everywhere around the world with him to tick off the items on your bucket list.

You had watched him win his home race for the first time and gone to a couples cooking class.

You visited all the Disneyland Theme Parks you hadn’t been to before: the Tokyo one when he raced in Suzuka, the Chinese one when he raced in Shanghai and the Floridian one when he raced in Miami. 

Charles had taken you to Iceland to camp under the northern lights and to Pamukkale in Turkey where the blue waters were meant to work miracles. It hadn’t cured the illness that ravaged your body but each activity you crossed off cured some of the sadness in your soul.

“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Charles commented as he looked up at Christ the Redeemer. “What size shoes do you think he wears?”

“Well you know what they say about big feet.”

Charles’ head fell back with a laugh. “You cannot say that about Jesus.”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently as he stepped closer to take a photo of you together. “I was going to say he wears big socks, get your head out of the gutter.”

“Of course you were, mon amour.” Charles’ lips curled up in amusement and you relished the way his eyes crinkled before you rose onto your toes so you could kiss him before the smile faded. 

The flash of his camera captured the moment and you reluctantly pulled away as the sun began to set on another day spent living. The days were getting tiresome, your energy flagging as the medication changed from treating the illness to managing the pain. You had read enough to know that time was running out.

“We should get going, don’t want to miss our flight to Vegas.”

“About that…” he trailed off as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it in your hand. “I made a list of my own.”

Marry the woman of my dreams.

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

—

Pascale had created a beautiful headpiece for your wedding but when it came time to leave you hadn’t been able to place it on your head. A year ago you had only dreamt of the day you married Charles and in all those imagined scenes you had your hair styled up like she had crafted on the wig with pearl pins and a delicate tiara. But a lot had changed in a year, you had changed. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful,” she said as she wiped her eyes. Your own mother was speechless as she pulled you into her arms and held you tight.

“I’m going to ruin my makeup if you two don’t stop crying.”

“Honey, let her go,” your dad said softly as he placed a hand on your mother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

Your throat felt as if it were closing and for a second you held on tighter before you both opened your arms. “I love you,” you said to them all as you looked at the proud but sad smiles on their faces. “Thank you for making this possible, for both of us.”

Your father grabbed the wheelchair you had been using, the exhaustion sometimes too much for you to handle, but you shook your head. “I’m going to marry him on my own two feet.”

You knew Charles had a lot of help organising the wedding because there was no way he could have done it on his own. The entire paddock had come to a standstill at the end of Media Day and you found yourself walking down a makeshift aisle on the grid to the starting lights. 

Hundreds of friends joined your families on the track and you had no doubt that Charles had flown them all there at his own expense. 

“When you said married in Vegas, I thought you meant the White Chapel,” you whispered with a giggle.

Charles' smile grew at the sound and he took your hands in his. “That’s something tacky Pierre would do.”

“Hey,” the groomsman objected beside Charles. “Elvis isn’t tacky. Focus on your own wedding, mate.”

You laughed at the exchange before Lorenzo cleared his throat and your eyes widened as you realised he was the celebrant. “Is this legal?”

“The online certificate I got says so,” he said with a wink. “But if you’ve changed your mind I can skip the legal bits.”

Your eyes lit up with amusement. “No way, I’m not going to miss having you as a brother-in-law.”

“And I thought we were here because you wanted to marry me,” Charles joked. He had waited so long to marry you but now that the moment was here he was in no rush for it to end. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where you were lighthearted and smiling. Where you weren’t lost in thought but present in the moment, with him. 

“I do,” you said with a grin before peeking back at his older brother. “Does that count, can I kiss him now?”

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not quite, shall we get started?”

Charles could hardly keep still with his excitement. “Ready, baby?”

You reached into a hidden pocket in the dress and pulled out the engagement ring he proposed at Christmas with. Slipping it into your finger, you gave him a serious nod. “Now I am.”

—

“Good morning, Mrs Leclerc.”

You smiled as Charles kissed your shoulder blade and rolled you over to face him. He had already showered and dressed for the day before climbing back into bed with you and you peeked at the clock to see he would almost be late. 

“You should be at the track already,” you hummed between the sweet kisses he peppered across your skin. 

“Wasn’t going to miss watching you wake up as my beautiful wife for the first time.” His smile wavered as he kissed your forehead before pressing the back of his hand to it. “How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but last night was worth the lack of sleep.”

He smirked and traced your lips longingly with his eyes. “Definitely worth it. But you don’t feel hot or cold?”

“Focus on FP1, Cha,” you said with a little push for him to get out of bed. “You’re going to be late.”

He playfully nipped your collarbone before getting off the bed and blowing you a kiss. “Rest up, mon amour, I’ll come back between the practices.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, more than the moon and the stars.”

“Hopeless romantic.”

“Love of my life. Fire in my loins. The apple of my-“

“Go away!” You tossed a pillow at him before falling back into the warm blankets with a laugh that turned to a yawn. “Profess your love to someone else and let me sleep.”

“Never,” he chuckled quietly as he watched your chest rise and fall into a steady rhythm. “It will only be you.”

Your health deteriorated rapidly after Vegas and your doctor urged you to return to Monaco, but you weren’t ready to leave just yet. There was only one thing left on your bucket list and it was within your grasp. Charles and Max were neck and neck in the championship but you had faith your husband would triumph in the end. So instead of heading home you remained by his side in Qatar and Abu Dhabi, letting him hire a medical team as a trade off for ignoring your doctor's advice.

It wasn’t just the season coming to an end and you could both feel it as Charles prepared for the final race. You didn’t have the strength to go to the track and see him start from pole, the prime position for the championship deciding race. You barely had the strength to stay awake for the whole race but you fought against the heaviness in your body and scanned the screens that had been brought into your room.

Pride made you heart light as you watched the world through Charles’ eyes. The onboard camera was clear ahead, all his competitors in his rear view, and as the laps passed by his lead grew wider. Charles was flying and he was taking you with him.

Charles took a seat on the centre podium as confetti rained down and fireworks exploded overhead. He wiped the sweat and champagne from his face before reaching into his race suit and grabbing the pen and paper he had tucked away.

Putting a strike through the last line he held it up triumphantly to the camera. “We did it, mon amour, we did it.”

You smiled as if he would see it and closed your eyes as you lost the battle. “I’m ready to go home now.”

The Bucket List:

Sleep under the northern lights 

Swim with sharks

Skinny dip (not with sharks)

See Christ the Redeemer

Bowl a strike

Go to every Disneyland once

Ride an elephant

Go to India for the colour festival 

Win an escape room

Learn to whistle 

Have a mud bath

Teach Charles to cook

Watch the Grand National horse race

Get a tattoo

Learn to use chopsticks

Throw beads at Mardi Gras 

Have my palm read

Try absinthe 

Ride a luge

Go to a rage room

Join the mile high club 

Catch a fish

Make a will

Bathe in healing waters 

Charles Leclerc - World Champion

Click here for the requested last day alive.

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[sphireath-wisp]

Hihi!!! I was just wondering if you could do just little cute scenarios with sae, yoichi, and rin (gn! reader + all individual)

im sorry if this isn't as detailed as you wish but I'm just really craving tooth rotting fluff+ take your time (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Sypnosis: In the busy hustle and bustle of life, it's sometimes hard to find time to spend together. When there's time, what are the hobbies/little things both of you do together?

Warning: My readers are always morally grey in some way because it's more realistic to me, not proofread

Author's note: Thank you so much for reaching out and giving me this ask! I'll try my best to weave my story together to match your request. I owe my friend a good favour, so I hope you don't mind me adding her BL favourite here. Thank you so much for your understanding ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Featuring: Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Rin Itoshi x GN! reader

SAE ITOSHI... finds himself most at ease during late-night drives with you in the passenger seat. The windows are down, you're sticking your head out of the car despite his multiple warnings, and he can't stop smiling. His free hand is reaching for you and tugging your shirt down, and his eyes drift to your pouting face in the rearview mirror.

Usually, his late-night drives together with you have no real destination. Acting purely on a whim, Sae always drives you wherever feels right. Sometimes, it's the port right by the beach. Other times, he's driving you to an empty parking lot. Today, he decides to let you have the privilege of choosing where to go.

And when you ultimately decide to go to a playground out of all places, he scoffs but does a U-turn without hesitation.

Is it currently 11 a.m. and does he have a schedule he almost-religiously follows? Yes, and he has a feeling that he won't have enough time to drink his salted kombucha tomorrow morning. Is he tired? Absolutely. Why would he do all of this when he knows damn well he has practice tomorrow?

Hell, he's asking himself that as he opens the car door for you and helps you out.

With a cheeky peck on Sae's cheek, you wash away his thoughts and he returns the favour with a kiss on your forehead. "Let's go get a new car, yeah?" Sae shuts the car door behind you. You're bewildered, to say the least, "I'll let you pick a design this time."

"Look! It's here, it's here!" Your boyfriend, YOICHI ISAGI, geeks out in the manga section of your local bookstore. "Oh yeah, didn't they release figures already? Season 2 is being released soon, right?"

His smile only grows wider when you nod. He's crouching down beside you as you tower over him, leaning down slightly to watch him stare at the various covers. Standing back up on his feet with two in hand, Isagi seems to have reached a slight dilemma.

"Ah... should I get the latest chapter? Or should I..." Oh, isn't that the romance manga you recommended to him? The main couple was cheesy, but it reminded you a lot of how your relationship with Isagi is. Turning your head away, you find yourself stifling a giggle - how cute.

After a moment of deep thought, Isagi sulks. His shoulders slump and he kneels back down, placing both the mangas back on their shelves. Like a defeated puppy, he crouches there for a moment in silence.

"What's up?"

"I can't decide, so it's better if I don't get one or else I'll spend the rest of the day regretting it," He's solemn, your heart clenches when he forces an awkward smile. It's not a big deal, but... "You can borrow my copy y'know, don't be shy."

He perks up. It's a simple gesture, but the simplest things in life have always pleased Isagi the most. With a bashful laugh, he picks out the manga he wanted - he can indulge a little, he decides. "Right, I'm sorry. You didn't need to see how let down I was over something so small." Honestly, Isagi's a little shy. It's only been a few months into the relationship. He wants to respect you and your boundaries.

"I'll get you something in return, thank you."

RIN ITOSHI yelps when he stumbles out of your bedroom to the dimly lit living room of your apartment, sucking back a hiss from the base of his throat when something jabs at his foot. His disappointment only grows when he lifts his foot to see the imprint of a Lego brick on the sole. "What do you think you're doing? At 1 in the morning?" The once groggy Rin Itoshi is now wide awake, meeting your avoidant gaze. As you continue to piece together your Lego set, you mumble, "...couldn't sleep. I usually don't have trouble, but I don't know what's up with me today."

Despite his reluctance, he walks over to you and plops onto the carpet beside you. "Aren't you a little too old for this?" Rin begins while mindlessly piecing bricks together. His back is against your shoulder, partially leaning his weight onto you.

You scoff once he grabs the manual. "You're one to talk," you retort as you pull apart Lego pieces, "In case you haven't realized it, you happen to be playing with my Lego set."

"In case you haven't realized it, I'm helping you, idiot," There's no real malice in his voice. He crosses his legs and straightens his spine, turning to gather the pieces in a pile and redo everything from scratch. You clearly seem to be struggling. He'll never admit it, but he doesn't like the aching gap in his chest when you're not in bed with him.

It's a good excuse in his head. He's simply helping you out so you'll return to his embrace as soon as possible. It's just that. He's totally not enjoying playing with Legos with you - he convinces himself mentally with starry eyes when you both finish the overwhelming set at 2:30 a.m.

"Phew! Now to take it apart!"

"Hell no."

Taglist: @mikmwehehe, @saexy (while you did archive your old account, you are technically still on my list!! Please tell me if you want to get removed and I'll do it asap)

[thedevildompolybunch]

Irresistible Attraction (Mammon X Body Insecure MC) 18+ Fluffy Smut

Sorry this took so long! I kept rewriting it trying to make it perfect! I’m excited to have finally completed it and I hope you like it! Thank you (Unknown if they want to be tagged) for the writing prompt. This has been a labor of love! I learned so much writing this! 

Summary: When Mammon realizes MC is avoiding his sexual advances, he attempts to figure out what’s going on. 

What to Expect: smut, AFAB, fluff, established relationship, unprotected sex, crying, insecurity, negative self talk, polycoded, Mammon is pushy and greedy but means well, MC is wearing pants and a shirt, shallowing, gender neutral, cum on body. 

I’m currently not accepting writing prompts, and plan to in the future once I get my guidelines situated. I was just super in love with the idea! 

Vulgar Language: cunt, pussy, cock, vagina, general swearing such as fuck, shit etc. 

Other ways to read (usually better formatting due to length)

Privatter.net (This version allows you to input your MC’s name and have it inserted into the story. Password: TheGreatMammon)

Archive of Our Own 

Chapter 1: Alone at Last

The unbearable tension that grew between Mammon and you was no longer ignorable. The two of you sat on his sofa making out while some video neither of you planned to watch continued to play. 

Wrapping a hand behind your thigh, he effortlessly hiked you onto his lap to deepen the kiss. The feel of your tongue against his was waning on his already diminishing inhibitions.

“Ya know, this is all your fault human.” 

He broke the kiss, his lips sensually brushing past yours as he began to speak. 

“If ya didn’t go and tease me.” 

His tone was labored with ecstasy as he blamed you for both of your desires. 

“...This nevuh woulda happened.”

And, he was right, it truly did feel that way. Mammon’s sin gave him the insatiable desire to pursue all things that were valuable, and you were one of the greatest jewels. 

With both hands on your hips, he grinded you against the bulge of his pants. The pressure of his cock tempting your already swollen cunt. 

“Ya like that treasure?”

His question begged for your praise and his body demanded it. Rocking harder, he drew moan after moan out of you. The ownership of your current pleasure further enticing the greed that already resided inside him. 

“Fuck…” 

He bit at his bottom lip in an attempt to maintain his composure.

It didn’t work. 

Desperately he clawed into your thighs; steadying you as he rocked you into his wave-like motion.  The peak of each ripple elevating both of your arousals. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. His urges were becoming unmanageable and he would do anything to have more of you.

Leaning back, he caressed your sides, pulling at your shirt in an attempt to remove it. 

“Oh look, I’ve been wanting to see this.” 

Your words were random and they caught him off guard. Pointing over at the tv, you redirected his attention; using the moment to seamlessly adjust your shirt to cover back up.

Mammon looked over, only to see a video that neither of you would have wanted to watch. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what was playing at this point because it was just some random recommendation from Deviltube. Wait…was that an ad?

“Yo, are you serious!?”

Mammon was offended. The last few weeks everything had been more interesting than him, or at least he felt that way, and now you wanted to watch some random ad over fooling around with him? What the fuck was going on? 

“MC, ya got a problem or somethin’?” 

His callout made you freeze. He hadn’t said anything about the way you’ve been acting lately and you hoped it would have remained that way. 

“Like, I know you ain’t tryin' to watch that.” 

He gestured to the ad as it ended. Ugh, what bad timing. You thought to yourself. In all fairness you would have never pointed to the tv if you had known. 

“Sorry, I thought it was something else.”

You attempted to cover up your failing lie, but Mammon didn’t buy it.

“Seriously, what’s goin on?” 

Couldn’t he just let it go? 

“Mammon, I promise; nothing’s up. I just got a little nervous.”

You tried your luck at a half truth, but it seemed that it wasn’t in your cards to outwit him today. 

“That ain’t true, ya been actin’ weird for a bit.”

Been actin’ weird for a bit? Are you kidding me, he noticed? 

Of course he noticed. Mammon noticed most things about you, he loved to. But just this once, couldn’t he just leave it alone? It had nothing to do with him. 

The thoughts in your mind were racing and soon it was hard to find the right words. 

“We don’t gotta do this if ya don’t wanna.” 

That wasn’t it. You did ‘wanna’, you just couldn’t get out of your head long enough for that to happen. 

It had been weeks that you had been rejecting him, with little to no explanations, and he was beginning to wonder if you even liked him at all. 

“Oi! MC! Ya hear me?”

Mammon broke the silence with his worry, snapping his fingers in front of your face in an attempt to help you regain consciousness.

“We don’t gotta do nothin’ if ya..” 

His attempts at comfort only increased your anxiety. 

“N-no, no, that’s not it…Its…”

You began to stutter, quickly trying to find the words to make the conversation end. 

“What, What is it then?”

His fears cut you off, trying to speed up your answers. What did he do wrong? Why were you having so much trouble talking to him? 

“Did somethin’ happen?”

He was asking questions faster than you could answer, and even faster than you could process. 

Overwhelmed, you rushed for the door, Mammon swiftly following behind. 

“HEY! Wait, would ya?!” 

He reached out for your arm. 

“Leave me alone!”

Avoiding his grasp, you ran off; slamming the door behind you. 

💰💰💰💰💰

“And, you didn’t do anything?”

Asmo inquired after Mammon explained what had just happened. 

“What makes ya always think I did somethin’? I’m askin’ for your help, and this is what I get?”

“So, is that a no...or?”

“Asmo, I ain’t bein’ funny. You got that thing with MC tonight, ya gotta figure out what’s up.” 

“I don’t know, what’s in it for me? ♪”

The nerve. That was Mammon’s job. 

“You kiddin’ me? Nothin’, the satisfaction of helpin’ your older brother out.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“I don’t want to hear ya askin’ me for nothin’ ever again then.” 

“Hun, you're the last demon I’d ask for something.”

Mammon let out a groan of frustration. Resorting to his next best plan…guilt. 

“I can’t believe you would treat your older brother like this! After all I’ve done for ya…”

His animated hand motions expressed his annoyance. 

“Like that time I returned your bracelet back to ya instead of sellin’ it.” 

“You were the one who stole it, sweetie.”

“Point bein’, I didn’t sell it! I brought it back to ya! That thing was worth major grimm, I coulda made bank!”

He left out the part where he only returned it because he was caught in the middle of the transaction. 

Asmo rolled his eyes, his next words, putting Mammon out of his misery. 

“Alright, I’ll do it.” 

It took Mammon a moment to realize that Asmo had agreed to his plea. 

“Oh, and how abou...Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” 

Asmo shrugged as if the answer had been easy all along. Because it had. The moment he realized it was something involving you, he knew he was going to say yes. It was just an added bonus to be able to get under Mammon’s skin for a bit. 

Pulling out his phone, he reminded you of your date; reassuring Mammon that he was serious. 

Asmo: “Don’t forget 😉”

MC: “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Chapter 2: Spilling the Tea 

Asmo laid next to you on his bed in nothing more than a robe. The floral smell of his body oil was soothing yet overwhelming. 

“So, these were the earlier designs and I thought they were a bit boring, so I came out with these…”

He opened a velvet lined box that revealed the prototypes of a new ring collection he had been designing for his jewelry line.

“Aren't they just perfect? No need to answer that, I designed them, I know they are! ♡”

Winding down with Asmo was pleasant. He’d always have a warm cup of tea waiting for you, a new beauty product to try…usually several, and he led most of the conversation; leaving you to just sit there and relax as he kept you updated on all things him.

“Oh and that’s not even the best part, the finished ones are each going to have their own unique charm that grants the wearer a different magical effect.” 

He continued to fill you in. 

“...I haven’t figured out all the details yet because I need to run it by Diavolo, and all, but I absolutely think everyone will love this line, I mean, how couldn’t you? ♡” 

Asmo sprung up with enthusiasm at his own bragging.  

“Try one on! I’d bet these would look just stunning on you!”

Pulling a ring out of the box, he slid it onto your finger, holding your hand in his palm to get a better view. 

“aaaannnnd…look at that, I was right.”

He moved your hand around to let the ring shine. 

“That looks absolutely gorgeous on you! ♡ ”

Admiring it for a few more moments, he sensually caressed the tips of your fingers with his thumb. 

“But, that’s not a surprise, everything looks gorgeous on you.”

His words were sweet and complemented by a wink and a smile.

“ Speaking of… ♪” 

 He let go of your hand. 

“That outfit I ordered you last week, It came in this morning, right?”

Removing the ring from your finger, he placed it back into the box. 

“Have you tried it on yet? Do you love it? I bet you look absolutely Devilgramable in it!”

Asmo sat up in excitement at the thought, eagerly awaiting your feedback. 

“I haven’t had time to try it on yet.”

“Awww, really?”

He pouted in disappointment.

“...I wanted to see it.”

Silence filled the air for a moment as Asmo sulked. He really wanted to know what it looked like on you because he was positive it would accentuate your best features. 

“...Oooh! You know what!”

He perked up with enthusiasm, eager to express the thought that had popped into his head. 

“I have a fun idea! Why don’t we try on outfits for each other? I have one I’ve been wanting to show you and I wouldn’t mind seeing how you look in the one I bought!”

Your stomach dropped. That sounded like anything but fun. Because the truth was, you had tried on that outfit; you just hated it. 

The concept was cute, you loved how it looked when Asmo and you saw it on the rack; but after actually seeing it on yourself; you felt that it highlighted all your insecurities. How were you going to tell him that? He was so modelesque, it was intimidating.

“I’d rather not, I’m kind of tired.”

Strange. Asmo thought to himself, noticing the subtle shift in your demeanor. This was similar to what Mammon had described to him earlier. 

“You ok, sweetie?”

He was relieved to finally get the chance to inquire about your problem. It had been on his mind since Mammon had brought it to his attention, and he was finding it unusually difficult to think about only himself.

“Y-Yeah, Yeah, I’m fine.”

Noticing your growing discomfort, he took your hand into his. 

“Hun, you’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?” 

His thumb caressed over the top of your palm to show his support.

“You told me you loved that outfit in the shop and now it’s like you could care less about it, and a little birdy told me you’ve been avoiding their advances lately.” 

Wow, subtle. Wasn’t anything private in this house? 

“So, Mammon talked to you?”

“He might have said something… ♪”

His fingers played with yours in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Plllleeaaase don’t be mad at me. I just want to be here for you.” 

He pleaded for your forgiveness.

“Come on, you know you can talk to me.”

His tone was warm and his smile was inviting, complimenting his already striking features. Fuck he was beautiful…He was always so beautiful. He could pull off anything he wore and even when he thought he didn’t look good, he did. How could you even begin talking to him about what was going on? What would he think? 

The words once again struggled to find their way out of your mouth as you attempted to confide in him. 

“I-I-I don’t like the way I look.” 

Asmo’s face dropped at the meaning of what you said. His hand gripping yours tighter to show his support. 

“I-I don't know, I just don’t think I look good in most things.”

Your voice cracked as you held back tears, battling the thoughts in your head. You weren’t quite sure how to explain your issue to Asmo the Avatar of Lust; and rightly self proclaimed the avatar of beauty. 

“Like, what would Mammon even think if he saw me naked?”

Tears began to roll down your face as you confessed your fears. 

“Oh sweetie…”

He cupped your face into his hands, guiding your gaze to his to show his sincerity. 

“That you’re the hottest being he’d ever seen.” 

His eyes welled up with tears as he expressed his truth. He could relate to your insecurities; he too felt insecure about his body from time to time. It was constantly a losing game, and it broke his heart to think you were feeling the same. 

“I don’t know how to tell you this lovely, but you’re wrong. You're one of the prettiest beings I’ve laid my eyes on.”

The tears he was holding back, slowly began to drip down his face.

“Before you,  I’ve never met anyone who’s come close to matching my beauty.”

His lips grazed against yours as he resisted the impulse to kiss you; fearing it may tarnish his intentions. 

“And, I’ve been to 3 worlds.”

Pulling you into his comforting embrace, he rubbed his hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe your stress.

“MC, I’m obsessed with the way you look, almost as much as I’m obsessed with the way I do. I wouldn’t want you to change it for the world. We are easily the hottest couple to walk down the streets of the Devildom and our presence together is unmatched.” 

His voice rang softly into your ear, as he snuggled you tighter into his arms.

“You are so attractive. And I think anyone would be lucky to see you naked.” 

Releasing you from his embrace, he settled down next to you. Guiding your head to rest against his shoulder. 

“Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t even want to leave the house.”

Taking in a breath of air to stifle the remaining tears he had left; he attempted to connect with you. 

“I don’t always feel pretty either…”

He gently massaged the top of your head, slowly easing you both to sleep. 

“...As shocking as that may seem.”

Leaning back, you both rested on each other in silence; the sweet aroma of tea and perfume comforting your spiraling thoughts. 

💰💰💰💰💰

It was the middle of the night when Asmo was awoken by the buzz of his phone.

“Yo!” 

“Hey!” 

“I know ya seein this!” 

“Asmo!”

“Ya betta not be doin’ anything funny with MC.”

“Ya suppose to be helpin’ me out dontcha forget!”

“Imma just message ya till ya respond.” 

Tiredly Asmo attempted to respond, only to be interrupted by an incoming call from Mammon.

Hitting the reject button before the sound could disrupt your sleep he followed up with a text. 

“Calm down sweetie, I got your answer.”

Chapter 3: Irresistible Attraction 

Sitting up on your bed, you checked your phone…nothing. Mammon hadn’t talked, texted or seen you since that night and you wondered how long it would be until he did. It was unlike him to stay upset with you for this long, usually by now he would have at the very least come up with an excuse to talk to you. 

But, maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Maybe Asmo reported back to Mammon like you suspected he would.

And, Maybe Mammon decided that he was done with you. 

Ugh, the thought of that put a pit in your stomach. Closing the messenger app, you switched to Devilgram; hoping the endless scroll would drown out your unwanted thoughts. 

“Are you blind or just stupid!?”

The sound of Mammon’s voice bursting into the room startled you. 

“I hear ya don’t think ya look good?”

He slammed the door behind himself as he made his way towards the bed. 

“I don’t know where ya got that dumb idea from, cause it ain’t true. I mean look at ya…”

His hand gestured in the air to check out your body as he questioned the information as though he got it wrong. 

“...You’re the fuckin hottest.” 

Plopping down at the foot of the bed, he continued. 

“Like, how can ya even think that?”

Mammon was at a loss. He checked you out for a moment to try to imagine what you saw. But he couldn’t, he could never think of you as unattractive. Was your mirror in your room broken or somethin?  

“What? Do ya gotta hear me say it?”

In all honesty, you did. It was hard to say it to yourself sometimes and how did you know Mammon actually did feel that way? Nodding your head yes, your words came out as a whisper. 

“Yeah…” 

It was embarrassing to answer him. But, it was even more embarrassing for him to answer you. 

“Yo, like, really?”

He shifted in his spot to expel anxiety. 

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

But he did want to. He just couldn’t get out of his own thoughts long enough to…oh. 

The correlation between your feelings became clear to him. 

Truth be told, Mammon didn’t want to tell you all that stuff, because what were you going to think of him? He can’t be soft and sensitive; he was a demon after all and that wasn’t cool.

But, you not knowing how attractive he found you, that also wasn’t cool. Looking away, he rubbed the back of his neck to soothe his nerves, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“I think ya look pretty amazin’.”

His confession was unpoetic but genuine. 

“Like, really amazin’…” 

He paused nervously between his words. 

“...I can’t stop looking at ya.”

His hands and eyes gestured towards you in an expressive motion that attempted to get you to see what he saw. 

Leaning beside you on the bed, he rested on his arm; as he continued his monologue. 

“Like, ya know those statues we learned about in human world history? The ones that are usually naked and shit?” 

the Greek ones? Confused about where this was going, you continued to listen to Mammon as he attempted to clarify his motives. 

“Yeah, ya make me think of those. Because like, they're pretty and stuff.”

“I remember hearin’ from Lucifer that they were known for their ‘natural beauty’ or some shit and it made me think about how they’re a lot like you.”

His heart rate began to pick up as he went on, his eyes checking out your body.

“I don’t know what to tell ya MC…”

His cock tightened his pants.

“I think ya fuckin’ hot” 

Blush lit up his face as he swallowed the feelings of his arousal; his gaze returning back to yours. 

“Besides, ya betta stop insultin’ me. The Great Mammon doesn’t just stare at anything, ya know?” 

His hand cupped your face; the flat of his thumb sensually rolling over the softness of your lips.

“So, cut it out with this ‘I don’t look pretty,’ trash.”

His words aimed to disprove you as his face leaned closer to yours. 

“Cause ya are pretty…”

He kissed your lips. Pulling away to berate you once more. 

“...Stupid….” 

With his face just a few inches away from yours, his eyes begged asked for another kiss. To which you responded with your lips against his. The validation of your interest re-igniting the weeks of tension that had built up between the two of you. 

Rolling you into the mattress, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your moans of ecstasy as they escaped your lips.

Oh how badly he'd been wanting you. And the feeling of your body writhing underneath his told him just how much you wanted him too. 

Steadying himself onto his knees between your legs, he removed his shirt; following it up by sliding yours up and over your breasts; purposely keeping the fabric on to accommodate your comfort. 

He took a moment to admire your body as it laid before him, his hands caressing up and down your shape. 

“I ain’t got a clue what you see, Treasure.”

His words reassured you of his unconditional attraction.

“Because ya body is bangin’” 

Resting his hands on either side of your head, he leaned in; kissing the skin of your neck. 

Small whimpers of desire escaped your lips as he worked his way down the front of your body. The temperature of his labored breaths, only adding to the already tantalizing sensation. 

Your fingers desperately clutched at his hair as he sucked the top of your breasts, leaving small marks of possession. 

Continuously he made his way down, his lips appreciating every part of your body they came across, until he was stopped by the waistband of your pants. 

Biting the fabric, he pulled at the top with his teeth, using his hands to assist him in sliding them over your ass and off your body.

Damn. He thought, as he checked you out. What was it ya didn’t like? 

He growled as he nipped at the skin of your calves, pecking his way back up to your neck. His body pressing up against yours as he leaned in. The bulge of his pant’s applying pressure to your sensitive clit. 

“Yo, ya gotta stop doin’ this to me…” 

You moaned as you felt him twitch. The wetness from your arousal seeping through his pants.

“Ya know it’s hard for a Demon to resist somethin’ like you.” 

Fully succumbing to his sin; he balanced on one arm to release his cock. You whimpered as it rested against your swollen cunt, slowly being rocked by the movement of his returning kiss.

Thrusting his hips, Mammon’s shaft continued to tease your folds. The repeated friction teetering you on the edge.

Fuck! You thought. The ache between your legs was insufferable. And with each sway of his hips it was only getting worse.

Instinctively you pulled him in, grinding back in an attempt to keep it going. Fuck, he felt so good, you were so close, you could just…

The tip of Mammon’s cock slid inside you by mistake; causing you both to let out moans that could be heard from outside of the room. 

Re-orienting himself, he swayed barely an inch into your entrance; stimulating all the sensitive nerves that resided there. Your body trembled as he teased the most shallowest parts of your vagina.

Mammon was greedy in every way, and that included when it came to your pleasure. In this moment; every moan, movement, and gasp that came from you was his, and only his; and nothing tempted his sin more. 

Stepping off the bed, Mammon pulled you to the edge; positioning your legs on either side of his waist to give himself more control. 

His heart raced as he slid himself back into you, both your bodies shaking with euphoria  as he slowly worked himself in and out, gradually increasing his depth. The adrenaline that was rushing through the both of yous was no longer able to be ignored.

Tilting your hips to reach the correct angle, Mammon filled you with his length, growling as his hips met yours. 

You tightened your thighs together as he thrusted deep into you, grinding his curve up against your g-spot. Your pussy twitching around him as he controlled the rhythm of his hips.

Purposely he maintained a speed that was less than you wanted; indulging in the whimpers of your desires. Leaning his hands on the bed, he lost himself in the image of your body, mesmerized by the beauty of your motions below him. 

He was so in love with you, he couldn’t believe it. He’d pleasure you all day if you’d let him, but he knew he couldn’t because eventually your human body would give up. 

Finally giving you what you wanted, he steadied his motion; rocking hard and consistently against your spot. At this point, being aroused was painful.

Please Please Please. You begged in your mind. You couldn't take it any more. Out of breath and dizzy you clawed into his back to try to release some of  your torturous pleasure. 

“Come on, Treasure.” 

Mammon cheered you on through his labored breaths. You both were reaching sexual exhaustion. You had played this game too long.

“Come on, MC.”

He gritted his teeth, carefully keeping the pace of his motion.

“Oh yes, like that.”

You praised him to make sure he would continue.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were so fucking close!

Wrapping your legs around him you grinded hard onto your g-spot. The deep pressure stimulating your clit. 

“I-I-m, gonna…”

Your moans rang through the room as you came; the warm sensation of your orgasm pushing him dangerously over the edge. 

Pulling out, Mammon wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked; releasing himself onto your stomach. 

“Fuck, I fucking love you treasure.”

His hands once again resided on either side of your head as he caught his breath. Time felt as if it froze as the two of you attempted to center yourself. Mammon’s hair brushing past your face acting as your anchor. 

Stepping out of his pants, Mammon dropped to his forearms to kiss your lips; rubbing his thumbs caringly over the top of your forehead.

“I love you, MC.”

He kissed your lips again. 

“And there ain’t anythin’ in this world that could get me to stop.”

His eyes gazed into yours to show his sincerity. Kissing your lips a few more times, he began to return back to reality. 

He winced as he noticed the cold stickiness of his cum between the two of you. 

Standing up, he looked around the room for a rag, settling on his shirt by the foot of the bed; he cleaned you up and wiped himself off; tossing it to the side when he was done. 

He assisted you under the sheets, following in after you. Laying down, he pulled you onto his chest, wrapping his arm around your back to keep you close. The feeling of your heart beating against his side relaxed him.  

He could have stayed like this forever. He never wanted to leave you. Not now, not ever. The last couple of weeks without you were lonely like he had never known and he was glad to have you back in his arms. 

Mammon may not have understood exactly what made you feel this way, but he was more than happy to remind you how much he loved you time and time again if it would help.

Kissing your forehead, he snuggled you even tighter, falling asleep to the faint sounds of your tired breaths.

Original Prompt (paraphrased):

Mammon and MC are sitting in his room and he tries to do it with her a lot but they keep stopping him. One day he gets mad and asks Asmo for help so Asmo asks Mc what the reason is. They tell him that she feels insecure about her body, and he comforts her and when Asmo tells Mammon about it, he goes to her and makes love to them. 

[comfortless]

Deep Water

nix! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.

notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).

You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.

For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.

As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.

There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.

You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.

If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.

During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.

When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.

Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.

The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.

“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.

You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.

You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.

There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.

The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.

Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.

When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.

You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.

It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.

You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.

You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.

Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.

You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.

This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.

He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.

No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.

You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.

Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.

You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.

It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.

You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.

Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.

The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.

You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.

The trek there is nothing short of dull.

No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.

The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.

Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.

No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?

There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.

You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.

It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.

When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.

The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.

You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.

“Best to leave you alone, hm?”

You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.

He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.

“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.

The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.

His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.

Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”

The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.

It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.

You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.

“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.

He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.

“Then what?”

Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.

“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.

You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.

Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.

All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.

You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.

Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.

Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.

Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.

Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.

The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.

A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.

Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.

You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.

“You didn’t come back.”

Of course you hadn’t.

Most people wouldn’t have.

“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.

Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.

“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.

“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”

“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.

You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.

There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.

The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.

He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.

When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.

[seoulmatez]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝑅𝐸𝒢𝒰𝐿𝒜𝑅 𝐸𝒩𝒞𝒪𝒰𝒩𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮

info ⭑ bakugo katsuki x reader ﾉ 1.6k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff 

the first time bakugo sees you, his new neighbor, is from his balcony. the squeak that accompanies your door sliding open catches his attention and your distant voice holds it. you’re on the phone, too preoccupied with your conversation to notice him sitting a few feet away. he watches you from afar, takes note of how you playfully roll your eyes and the way you throw your hand out in disbelief. you’re animated and energized, a shining light against the dark canvas that is the night sky.

bakugo isn’t sure how much time passes before he decides to head back inside. he comes to the realization that it’s strange to watch someone you haven’t even met so intently. so, he stands and picks up his plate of half-eaten noodles, readying to call it a night. whether it’s the scrape of his chair or the feel of his eyes on you, bakugo isn’t sure, but something makes you turn to face his direction. instead of the scowl or scoff he expects of someone who has just found out they were being stared at, you smile at him. you even wave, too.

his lips part in surprise at your kindness, your warmth. bakugo can’t say he knows or has encountered many people who offer a smile while they’re taking a call. deku maybe, but that’s beside the point. before he forgets and makes an ass of himself, he slowly raises his arm, two fingers sticking out to return your wave.

you smile wider.

the image sticks to his eyelids as he lays in bed and waits for sleep to overtake him.

the next time he sees you, it’s on the balcony again. this time you’re able to introduce yourself.

“sorry,” you apologize after giving him your name. you’re sitting in a chair you dragged out from your unit. the singular piece of furniture looks out of place outside. katsuki figures you haven’t had the time to decorate the space appropriately. “i would have done this that first night but my mom was talking my ear off. moving and all.”

bakugo distinctly recalls what it was like when he moved into his first apartment; nothing he did went unchecked by mitsuki. she was practically breathing down his neck throughout the entire process. if he wasn’t grateful for the help, the memories would have sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

“i get it,” he nods.

talking to you is different than looking from afar, the blonde thinks. even though the two of you have never spoken before this moment, you regard him so casually—like he’s a friend you’ve known for years. it’s refreshing yet strange, being seen as a neighbor before a hero, though he doesn’t mind the change of scenery.

the rest of your conversation borders on mundane—you ask when bakugo moved into the building, about his hobbies, and if he has any coffee shop recommendations near the neighborhood. they’re questions he usually wouldn’t bother answering but something about you compels him to reply. maybe it’s the way it looks like you’re hanging on his every word. or maybe it’s because, despite the fact that you’re the one asking the questions, you’re still a present part of the conversation. it doesn’t feel as though it’s one-sided, like an interview he gets nothing out of. your giggles at his muttered sarcasm and the comments you add—little details about how your apartment is coming together and what you usually order from the café—draws bakugo into your bubble and keeps him there.

talking to you isn’t a chore, in fact, katsuki actually enjoys it. the sound of your voice isn’t irritating like nails against a chalkboard—it’s pleasant, addicting, like the gentle hum of his favorite song. your stare doesn’t bother him because, for some reason unbeknownst to him, it feels like you see past his outer shell, past the image the world has created for him.

you don’t know him now, but bakugo doesn’t mind it being a possibility. a little part of him longs for it.

that longing for a connection isn’t far out of reach. your balconies have become an assembly area of sorts. given his line of work, katsuki can only spend evenings and seldom weekends out under the moon or sun, but you seem to have caught on to the loose pattern that is his schedule. whenever he’s there, so are you.

sometimes you’re working on your laptop, fingers furiously tapping away at the keyboard until you hear the slightly squeaky gliding of bakugo’s door. the contents of your screen are easily forgotten in favor of focusing on your blonde neighbor instead. talking to him means you’ll lose sleep over finishing your report later than intended, but bakugo is much more interesting than the spreadsheet of numbers you’ve been staring at for the past hour.

other times, you’re taking down laundry you hung on the line earlier when the same noise catches your attention. you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and inquire about his day—the good, the bad, the boring, the exciting. (an odd habit arises from it; you ask him to rate his day on a scale of one to ten whenever he joins you outside.) by the time you remember what you were doing before katsuki’s arrival, the sheets you had set out to dry are wrinkled and creased in your arms.

every moment, no matter how short and seemingly insignificant, floods bakugo in a sea of inexplicable joy.

today is no different.

like every night, bakugo kicks off his boots before entering his apartment. after a quick shower and a change of clothes, his feet instinctively carry him to the living room where the door leading to his balcony, leading to you, is. a cool breeze pushes into the unit as he drags the sliding door open and steps out. goosebumps raise on his arms—not because of the evening air, but because he hasn’t even sat down yet and your eyes are already on him.

“hey there, superhero,” you greet him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. there’s a click as the door closes and a grunt as katsuki tosses himself into the lone chair on his balcony. yours has two now, situated on either side of a small table. you’re sitting in the one facing him, a cup of instant noodles cradled in your hands.

“hey.” he returns your hello. it’s audibly less enthusiastic, but he’s glad to see you—even if that sight is you manipulating a pair of chopsticks to best fit the bunch of noodles hanging from them in your mouth.

your wrist stops rotating once you’ve found the prefect positioning. before you take the bite, you ask bakugo, “rate the day?”

all things considered, bakugo had a favorable day. nothing had gone wrong, everyone at the agency was on top of their game, he even had a notable villain takedown. despite it all, the day lacked a sense of excitement. nothing got his blood pumping like has had hoped it would. but now that he’s here in your presence, everything feels right. “…eight.”

“wow!” you cover your mouth upon realizing that you still have food in it. you sheepishly swallow the mouthful before clearing your throat. bakugo’s chin rests in his palm as he grins at your outburst. it’s infectious, causes the corners of your lips to curl into a small smile. “that’s a jump from the rest of the week.”

it is. the days before this one had been mediocre at best. but nights spent with you always give his days an extra point on the rating scale. that, bakugo thinks, isn’t something you need to know. not now, at least.

his eyes fall down to the styrofoam cup in your hands. every time he’s met with you for the past week, the same budget-friendly meal has appeared. “that all you eat?” he questions.

you snort at his observation. he’s got a good eye, you’ve come to learn, remembers details about you that even you find yourself forgetting. you set the cheap dish down on your table and smile. “other than knowing how to operate a rice cooker, i’m even worse than a novice in the kitchen.”

you’re a strange one, smiling while admitting a weakness, the blonde thinks. “you seem oddly happy about that.”

“eh,” you shrug, “it kind of sucks burning everything i touch. but, i happen to know someone who’s planning on helping me fix that.”

you’re still smiling, but this one is different than the others katsuki has had the pleasure of seeing. it isn’t like those delighted ones you wear when you recount the best parts of your day or the admirable ones you sport when you listen to his. there’s something hidden behind this one that he can’t quite put his finger on. knowingness? flirtation?

if the latter was the case, bakugo would have a problem—one he isn’t entitled to, but, nevertheless, a problem. he may not be entitled to it, but the green-eyed monster isn’t something he can so easily conceal, even if he has no business feeling jealous. he crosses his arms at the thought of someone else holding your interest. “and who is that?”

“oh, come on genius.” your heart thumps against your ribcage, hard and heavy. it’s been a few weeks since you moved in to the apartment beside bakugo’s but your first, hushed interaction has stuck with you. the seedling of attraction in your chest when you first met his eye has long since bloomed into an embarrassingly large, vibrant flower. “you think i forgot about that yakisoba you were eating that first night out here? i’m talking about you.”

there’s a fluttering in katsuki’s chest, like his heart started floating while simultaneously skipping a beat. he discreetly pats his sternum to calm the frantic organ sheltered behind it but the action is useless when you’re staring at him so intently, a hypnotizing glint of hope sparkling in your eyes.

“so, superhero, teach me how to cook?"

hihi~ sua here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[fellthemarvelous]

Holy forking shirtballs

I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.

But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.

I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.

You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.

What do we owe to each other?

Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.

My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.

I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.

I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.

The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.

So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.

My brain still lives here!!

But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.

Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.

I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.

Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.

Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.

Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)

Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.

If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.

It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.

Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.

Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.

You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.

Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.

Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!

But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.

He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.

As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.

The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.

Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.

"To the world."

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Rindou x Reader

wc: 1200

angst, fluff

not edited

Rindou loves you. You know he does, but he has this annoying habit of not listening to you sometimes. Especially when it comes to recommendations. You recommend him food? Yeah, he'll try it. spoiler alert: he forgets. what about a movie you watched the other day and liked so much that you told him to watch it immediately? "Yeah, when I have time I will" is his answer. However, he'll only watch it if someone else recommends it too not even remembering you mentioning anything about it. And then he has the nerve to tell you all about it while you listen to him unimpressed. Sometimes it makes you feel like your opinion matters very little to him but you've never told him this. Part of you doesn't want to seem like an insecure girlfriend while the other part thinks there is no deep meaning to this.

This war in your mind ended when you entered your bedroom after having a bad day and saw Rindou sitting on the bed leaning his back on the headboard and "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" in his hands. You remember telling him how you cried reading it. However, you're surprised he's reading what you recommended. sensing your presence Rindou removed his glasses and looked at you.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted" you sit beside him "Do you like it?" you ask indicating the book.

He shrugs

"I've only read 20 pages yet. But Kakucho said it's really good"

You roll your eyes. thinking that you should've seen this coming you mumble "Of course he did" which wasn't as quiet as you expected because Rindou turned to you with a confused hum. You just shake your head as in "nothing" and try to get up but Rindou grips your arm and makes you sit back down. You sigh not having enough energy to deal with this.

"What is it?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

He closed the book setting it aside as he turned to me with narrowed his eyes as if sensing the trap.

"I... don't know. What did I do?"

"It's nothing Rindou, let me go"

Your words had the opposite effect as his grip tightened.

"That's not my name" His voice got low

"Uh it actually is"

"Not for you. Did I fuck up that badly?"

Now that you think about it no he didn't. It's probably you who's overreacting and creating a problem over nothing. You sound ridiculous even to you and you hate yourself.

"It's really nothing. I've just had a bad day so... I just wanna sleep"

After a moment of hesitation, Rindou let you go, his eyes following as you got changed and got in bed turning your back to him. As you lay in bed your overthinking got worse. The fact that he doesn't know what he's doing affects you this badly means that he's not doing it on purpose. But that's even worse. Does that mean that he doesn't even value your opinion enough to think about how neglecting it would affect you? Maybe he thinks you don't care about it so he doesn't too. Or maybe he just forgets. This also means he doesn't care. Every version you think about leads to you thinking he doesn't care and that feels really shitty.

On the other hand, Rindou was watching you lying silently with your back to him and he knew then he definitely did something wrong. You get in bed and do not snuggle up to him planting your head in his neck? Yes, something is terribly wrong.

"C'mon love, tell me what's wrong" he snaked his arm around your waist, and turns out this is all it took for your tears to run free. You bite your lip to stop it from trembling feeling so stupid for crying over something so trivial.

"And don't you dare to say it's nothing bec- are you crying?"

Rindou could swear he heard his heart crash. He turned you around to face him. tucking your hair behind your ear he quickly wiped your tears.

"Hey, don't cry, i- I'm sorry okay? Whatever I did, I didn't mean it just don't cry"

Even though he thought, and has told you this plenty of times, that you looked pretty when you cried, he hated when you cried. Even more, when he was the reason behind those tears.

"Talk to me please?"

Looking anywhere but at him, you opened your mouth to speak.

"It's really stupid"

"So stupid that you're crying over it? I don't care, tell me."

You don't want to.

"It's just... sometimes you don't listen to me"

Rindou was confused. You sound so crazy to him right now. He doesn't listen to you? You have him wrapped around your finger. Your word is a fucking law to him and you have the nerve to say that he doesn't listen to you? He only listens to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Everything I suggest you just forget until someone else suggests the same thing. Like-" You sniffle between speech "Like this book. You're reading it because Kakucho told you, but I told you to read it weeks ago"

The more you talk the more you want to shut up. Dreading seeing Rindou's expression you focus on your hands.

"It feels like you don't care about my opinion. It's so stupid I know..."

"I don- What?" Rindou couldn't help but exclaim. His mind processing thousands of thoughts right now. You think he doesn't care? How long have you been feeling like this? And you didn't tell him? Is there anything else you're not telling him because it's so "stupid"? "Listen, love, I'm so sorry, I didn't know- Of course, I care, Who do you think I listen to if not you? Ran? Fucker used to think Julius Caeser was named after the salad."

That made you chuckle and it was like a rainbow after the storm for Rindou. A sound he never wants to stop hearing. smiling at you he continued.

"I do listen to you okay? I remember every little detail you tell me. Starting with the shows you watch to the drama going on at your work. By the way, Rika got what she deserved, she was being the bitch first."

"That's what I'm saying" You exclaim and Rindou was so happy he could see you smiling again.

"I don't want you to doubt your value in my life okay? You're the best thing ever happened to me and I'd be a dumbass if I didn't appreciate you. And don't ever try to hide things from me again. No matter how stupid you think it is. Nothing is stupid to me when it comes to you. So no more tears, alright?"

You nod scooting closer.

"alright"

Rindou wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing the crown of your head.

"By the way, I started reading this book because you suggested it. Kakuchou saw it in my car when I bought it and told me it was good"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Sleep now"

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight, love"

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

got the idea from modern family's one episode

might delete this one too later, not sure. just felt like sharing

[dotster001]

Girlies End

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending

Jamil's phone had been non stop ringing for the past ten minutes. Which was unfortunate, because he was trying to take notes for Kalim, who would definitely forget everything the cat was telling them.

"Our next step will be to have you slowly work your way into Y/N and my daily routine," Grim pointed a yardstick at step three on the whiteboard he was standing in front of. "Recommendations include, offering to buy my tuna, buying me regular gifts, purchasing necessities we need around Ramshackle, like a new deluxe mattress, or deluxe slippers, or carpeting so that I don't need the slippers. Really, you can just use your imagination here."

"What about a new diamond choker, that's super shiny, so Y/N always knows where you are?" Kalim asked excitedly.

"That's brilliant! It's ideas like that that prove you're the perfect match for Y/N!"

Jamil would normally have been livid. But he knew that someone like you would quickly see that Kalim wasn't as complex an individual as you needed. And he would be right there for you to fall for…

And if not…well…he'd gotten quite good at controlling his signature spell. He couldn't say he hadn't warned Grim. He was practically begging him to do it at this point!

"Will you please deal with that buzzing? Kalim and I can't think!" Grim suddenly shouted at Jamil, as his phone rang for the umpteenth time.

He scowled, before muttering a "be right back" and answering the phone in the hallway.

"What?" He snapped.

He quickly apologized upon hearing his mother's voice.

"I was just wondering if Najma was settling in all right?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Jamil asked, completely confused.

"Well, she said you had a guest room all set for her, but I just wanted to make sure she was comfy, and that you were both behaving."

"Wait, Najma is here?" Jamil had a terrible, horrible, feeling in his gut that he knew where she was. 

"She said she saw you-"

"You're right mom, sorry, I've been overwhelmed lately and just got confused for a moment." It was a terrible excuse, he just had to hope his mother would accept it.

"Alright, just make sure you get some rest. Tell Najma I love her, and to be good!"

He breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. Then he made a beeline to Ramshackle.

The door was cracked when he got there, so he just walked right in. And the first thing he saw was Najma making out with you, heavily, on the couch.

He cleared his throat, and Najma looked up, startled, before bursting into laughter. Confused, you looked up and covered your face with your hands.

He watched as you looked flustered, and mumbled nonsense as though trying to explain yourself. Najma just looked smug.

"Sup buttface?" she said.

"Jamil, I can explain!" You said.

"Nah, he knows now, babe, might as well tell him," Najma said, gently caressing your cheek. She turned back to Jamil.

"Y/N and I have been dating ever since they came to visit a couple months ago. We didn't tell you cause we knew you'd flip out."

"I-gah-I'm not flipping out! But why would you do this?!?!?"

You shrunk deeper into the couch, looking at Najma like she would protect you from Jamil's yelling. Najma continued to look smug, even in the face of danger.

"You're totally flipping out. But it's cool. I know it's cause you're jealous that I landed a hottie like Y/N, and you're gonna die miserable and alone."

Jamil frustratedly ran his hands through his hair.

"Najma…Y/N…gah! Y/N, you like girls?" 

"Yes," you whispered.

"Yeah, Y/N likes girls, now get out of here so I can keep making out with my partner," Najma didn't even wait for him to react, she just grabbed your face and resumed kissing you.

"Najma-"

"Y/N, tell Jamil to stop being a little freak, so I can keep kissing you," Najma said poutily against your neck.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jamil cut you off.

"I'm leaving! Sevens, if mom asks me if I've seen you though, I'm ratting you out."

Najma flipped him off as he left.

Once he exited the building, he leaned against the outer wall and groaned. Leave it to his sister to ruin everything he'd spent months planning. He shouldn't have even been surprised.

Oh well, he'd let you tell Grimm that he wouldn't spend his life living like a millionaire at the Asim household.

The End

[vyglitchcraft]

Can you write something on MK1 Smoke trying to give the reader a kiss but is nervous about it because it would be their first kiss?

"Toasty!"

MK1 Tomas "Smoke" Vrbada x Gen!reader

Content: short fic, fluff, tooth rotting cuteness, SFW

Plot: first kiss with Smoke and another Lin Kuei ninja

You and Tomas only started dating a week ago, you being his first and him being your first. The two of you never exactly kissed, Tomas always sort of smacked his mask against your forehead as a faux kiss of sorts. He saw Kuai and Bi do that with their dates so he also did it to you although a bit too hard, you swear you have a bruise right on your forehead just from him lovingly bumping his face against yours. It started to piss you off A LOT having to rub ointment on the bruise but you couldn't be mad at him, he's too cute!

One day, you asked Kuai Liang for some tips and he recommended to just go slowly and see where the two of you would end up. That leads you to the present. You confronted Tomas just as he finished training. You tapped his shoulder and pulled your bangs away showing the bruise. "O-oh! I am so so sorry" he softly grabbed your face, looking at the bruise "that...does not look good..." He mutters to himself.

"Hmm maybe instead of bashing your mask against my face, you should just kiss me instead!" You huffed, crossing your arms. Tomas heard this and froze in place as if Bi-Han used his cryomancy powers on him. "But, i think that is a bit too...risque is it not?" This reply was not unexpected, considering the Lin Kuei has a very strong focus on discipline, you bet that he barely knows anything about romance besides some movies he has watched but even then, those things were difficult to find considering the Lin Kuei temple barely has working electrical sockets even then Bi-Han likes to freeze them by accident causing it to short circuit. Even then he never had the time to indulge in such activities.

Tomas slowly took his mask off and nervously grabbed your shoulder, he didn't know what to do. He tried to remember those scenes he saw in the movies he watched. He moved one hand behind your head "do you...wish for me to...kiss you?" He asked first. For once your confidence was gone, now replaced with nervousness. Neither of you have any idea how to kiss, sure you always see people kissing each other but you never done it yourself. "Sure! Go...go ahead" your heart was beating in your chest, Tomas too.

He gulped, looking around making sure no one would see him. He slowly breathed in and out, calming down before slowly leaning in and kissing you on the lips. You closed your eyes and he followed soon. He held you close for what felt like hours. You held the sides of his face with one hand while the other was on his back, holding onto his shirt.

You hummed into the kiss, all that anxiety melting away. Why were you afraid? This feels amazing, natural even. He slowly pulled away and looked at you, his hand to his mouth, he couldn't believe it, he did it! He finally kissed someone. You covered your face as a hot blush spread through your cheeks "i-i can't believe it!" Tomas let's go of you "your lips felt amazing...very soft" he whispered.

"Yours too...you're a really good kisser" he smiled and pulled you into a hug, kissing you on the bruise he left from his mask "from now on, i promise not to crash my mask onto your face" you couldn't help but laughed "thank the gods!"

Although your romantic moment was interrupted by Bi-Han and Kuai watching you and cheering both of you, acting like the proud brothers they were, although Bi-Han was more serious, hitting Tomas on the back of the head while saying "congratulations" in Mandarin. Well your fault for expecting peace and quiet in this place.

[bahrtofane]

promises under the stars - jude pov

Jude never meant to replace you. But that's how it ended up isn't it. There's no one to blame but himself, no one behind each and every decision that now has him standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for his bride. A bride that isn't you. 

highly highly recommend reading this fic first. or else it kinda doesnt make a whole lot of sense on its own. then come back here. this is kinda like a part 2? kinda

shout out to this anon for this idea ! hope you like it

word count - 2.1K+

watch it - well angst, yet again. pregnancy talks the works. sorry if i used ur name for his wife xoxo. enjooyyy

p.s. - shout out to @anadiasmount for the inspo to create the image at the end ! go read all her stuff yall so good

—————-

He thinks the moment it all comes crumbling down is when he gets word of you getting mobbed. After you've just been to Madrid with him. And he can't do anything about it but send security and hope it doesn't get out of hand. 

He expects you to give up right then and there, curse him and wish for him to have nothing to do with your life again. But you don't. You can never bring yourself to blame him. To hate him.

Then comes your whole family suing him for something completely out of his control. Fresh after your father has threatened him, this is just what they need to come after him legally. 

It's okay because they don't win. Of course they don't. How stupid do you have to be to try and sue for going on vacation for someone you love. He wants to call you every step of the way. But his lawyer warns against it. So he doesn't. And you’re left in the dark.

Do you even know that they've tried to sue?

He can guess what you're thinking. He knows you too well. You think this is him taking an exit from his life. He doesn't want it to be this way. Maybe its for the best after all he finds himself thinking. Back to the thoughts of letting you go for your good as much as his. 

But like most things in life, things get muddy. 

He spends his time in a whirlwind of emotions, all leading back to you. He can not go more than an hour without you in his mind. 

Even if his texting habits dont show it, he wants to talk to you every second of every day. Do you remember when he would call you to complain about the mundane. When he stubbed his toe, or drank out of his mind, pressing his nose against the screen trying to feel you against him. 

Things have changed. He’s no longer the same youthful Jude with a penchant for recklessness. Taking day trips to see you, skirting around paparazzi and your families just to have a moment together.

He misses you, but he’s scared to reach out again. So he remains silent and an onlooker to your life. 

Funny isn't it. World class player with more money than he knows what to do with is scared to text you in fear of what your families will say or do. 

And yet, he can’t stay away for long can he. His resolve breaks on your birthday. Months and years have gone by. Legal cases are drawn out go figure. And he's been so busy with games every few days and events he can never say no too. When he gets home his bones ache, only finding the strength to clean himself up and go to bed. 

When he calls you he realizes maybe it's too late. That waiting for things to blow over have left a gap in your time together. He knows nothing but memories. Your life eludes him. He tries to go back truly, but seeing your story while you're out with friends, smiling- actually smiling. He thinks he better not intrude. 

His mother isn't helping one bit. She's come to the conclusion that the only way to move on and get your family off his back for good is to just move on. Find a “nice sensible girl” she says, smiling.  

Jude doesn't want to. It makes him sick. Kicking and screaming the whole way about it. It’s not a bad idea in theory. Pretend to date someone. Your family gets off his back his family of yours boom you can be happy together again. 

So he can learn who you are again. Find a way into your life. Do you still tilt your head when you're confused? He needs to get back to you. He can't let someone like you leave. He doesn’t just love you, he’s fascinated with the person you’ve grown into. 

The thought of you with anyone else makes him sick. He still loves you, and he makes himself believe that the same is true. 

If only right.

He meets Kaylie in the dead of winter. At a sponsorship event that he completely forgets about and shows up an hour late to. He looks around trying to find his agent but before he can even say his usual rounds of hellos he spots his mother standing with a blonde who clutches her necklace to her chest while she laughs.

This is the start of his own nightmare.

He comes back around when he knows he has to. After taking his sweet time talking to everyone. He tries to look for help to get out of the encounter but it's already too late. His mother is flagging him down. So he walks over, already sweating. 

His mother all but pushes them together. 

“What a couple you two are.” she beams, hands clasped together. 

He gives a tight lipped smile and tries to wiggle his way out the awkward slew of introductions Kaylie gives of herself. But his mother gives him a look, grabbing into his arm and making stand and listen. 

There's a look in his mothers eye, he knows what it means. This is the woman that's supposed to replace you. He feels sick. 

——-

Along the way he thinks that maybe this is what's best for him. For you. 

His family all love Kaylie. And she's sweet enough.

Nothing like you, dragging him into different clubs while you linked arms to get ice cream at the same time.

He finds it hard to keep up with her. Her life is fast paced, more so than his. Every time he calls she's in a different country it seems, catching flights and going to fancy resorts.

You never minded a quiet night in. Its what you loved, being able to exist with him. 

Most of all she doesnt know him. She knows Jude Bellingham. The player, the figure, the celebrity. She doesn't know that he has a bad habit of touching his ears when he's nervous, how his eyes go wide at praise and teasing. How without a hundred reminders and alarms he truly would be late for everything. You always helped getting him to things on time.

When you were both awkward pre teens struggling to make sense of the world, you’d stop by his house to make sure he wouldn’t miss the bus. Sitting next to him on the beaten leather seats, and spitting facts you learned the day before. 

He always listened. He still would today. 

He doesn't think Kaylie’s noticed anything about him. She spends most of their time together taking pictures and flaunting him around. He pretends it doesn't bother him. Is the peace even worth it at this point?

She doesn't know how much he loves making little daisy chains, how much he loved putting them in your hair when you were kids. You’d throw a fit, but he never missed the look in your eyes when his fingers would swoop down to settle them gently. 

Kaylie is beautiful. But she's not beautiful like you. She may have an expensive taste for clothes that allows her to put together a stunning outfit for any occasion, cleavage on display while she pouts her lips and bats her eyelashes for a kiss. Kisses he never gives her. He can't. Not when he knows you wait for him. 

Sure she's great by the average man's standards. But she's not lovely like you. You could be in a trash bag and he'd still think you're the most gorgeous person on the planet. 

He thinks this whole Kaylie thing will blow over, that he'll be able to get back to you. 

And he tells her this. 

He goes through the motions, just to shut everyone up. 

Sitting her down when his mother isn’t around, “I don't love you. I will never be okay. I'm only here to get my mom off my back.”

And she laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “Okay Judey whatever you say,” bracelets clanking together.

The name makes him want to hurl. “Get out of my house.”

Kaylie has got it in her head that she's here to stay. They've gotten into screaming matches because she's gotten her hands on the spare key and spends her days lounging in his house while he's away. They're not even officially dating by any means. 

And he keeps finding her in his bed, in nothing but one of his shirts. Giggling and acting coy. He's losing his patience and losing it fast. 

“Why did you give her the key.” Jude storms into his mothers house. 

She's making tea, swirling a spoon in her mug,”she's your woman isn't she. She needs one.”

“No. She's not my woman and you know that. Everyone that.”

She set the spoon down in the sink, going over to where Jude stands.

“Jude. you need to focus on what's good for you. And she wasn't good. You should be lucky that they didn't win the case. I went and told them about Kaylie and how wonderful she is. Be thankful. “

He's losing his mind. He needs to talk to you. 

He gets the chance when he's back in his hometown. And he sees you. He doesn’t think he could ever miss you, not even in a crowd. A rush of people stop him from running right to you. So instead he texts you. For the first time in ages. 

Was nice seeing you.

He hopes you can read between the lines, that you still know him well enough to understand what he really means. 

I still see you. 

For Jude is a coward. 

——

You dont reply. He forces himself to go back to what hes been forced to know.

Kaylie is all over him, hands roaming his body. There are days when he gives in. Sharing a bed with her as a cruel demented way to find some sort of release from everything that goes on around him.  The look on her face after its all set and done makes him genuinely want to punch something. A look of arrogance, like she's won something. 

And to top it all off he's been called up for England. His life gets even busier, if possible. Trying to keep up with it all proves to be grueling.

But light comes in the form of you. In the form of a single text.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

You're proud of him? You watched him? 

The words bring him to near sobs, the light of his phone illuminating his hotel room while hes getting changed into his pjs. It's completely dark, his personal preference. And hes so happy he would fly the damn plane himself to see you. 

Before he can even think of a reply Kaylie tells him she's pregnant. Barging into his room with a little white box in hand. He thinks is some sort of congratulations for the game. Tacky card, maybe a watch. 

When he opens it, his world comes to a halt. Its a single pregnancy test.

He wants to cry. He's too young to be having kids let alone with her. It makes no sense to him. He always used protection the handful of times they did sleep together. Each time he'd only cry in the shower trying to scrub off her smell and the feeling of her touch off of him. She's only a distraction he tells himself. Too late for those words now.

It feels so wrong, so so wrong. He was supposed to be waiting for you and here he is sleeping with another woman. Who's now pregnant. He wants to vomit. 

He's in too deep now. And he can't be a deadbeat dad. 

Thoughts of you get pushed back to his mind while he scrambles to deal with the consequences of his own actions. 

When they get back to Madrid, his mother doesnt let him off easy. Screaming at him till he thinks he's popped an eardrum. And yet there's a gleam in her eyes like she's happy it all worked out this way. Doting on Kaylie and rubbing her belly (that's not even close to showing yet), and calling herself grandma already. 

The next step is obvious. He has to marry her and make it work.

So he does. An impromptu wedding that happens so fast he doesn't even hear the congratulations from everyone. He doesn't know how to break it to you so instead he posts on instagram and tries to figure out what his life has become. 

Jude is nearing 25. He has a kid on the way. He's married. He hates his wife. He hate himself.  Can you ever forgive him?

[kteezy997]

I’ve never seen someone do this with Timmy so :

Maybe reader is a masseur and when she massages timothée things get spicy

Oh fuck yes I love this

massage room//t.c.

warnings: workplace smut, handjob, male and female receiving oral sex, doggystyle, cumshot

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when you looked at your schedule for the day. Did you read it right? Your last appointment of the day was Timothee Chalamet. As in uber famous Hollywood actor, Timothee Chalamet? Was this even real?

You peeked out into the lobby of the salon, and there he was. In the flesh. Like a tall drink of curly-headed water.

You couldn't believe it. Whoever took the call to make his appointment just jotted his name down, like it was no big deal? How was no one else among the salon employees aware of who was coming in? For he was the most beautiful and talented movie star since Elizabeth Taylor.

You were just stunned at the whole situation. But you had to get yourself and your massage room together, because his appointment time was inching closer.

You were anxious to meet him, as you had been watching him in movies and crushing on him for years now. But you drank some cold water and tried to calm yourself. You were a professional. He was only a typical client. A very hot and sophisticated client, but it did not matter. He would get the same treatment from you as any other person.

You walked out to greet your client; you saw him relaxing on one of the couches in the lobby sitting area. "Mr. Chalamet?"

He shook his curls out of his face as he looked up, smiling.

"I am ready for you. My name is y/n, you can follow me." you smiled politely back a him, trying to not dwell on his charm.

"Perfect." Timothee said, standing up from the couch.

You turned on your heels, leading the way to the back room.

...........

You entered the room, Timothee right behind you. "Thank you for coming in, Mr. Chalamet. I hope you enjoy your experience today."

"Oh, you can just call me Timmy. And the lady I talked to on the phone highly recommended you, so you must be one of the best here."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that, but I will do my best to make you feel better." you turned to face him, "Are there any problem areas for you that I need to give special attention to?"

"Ugh, yeah my back muscles have been really sore lately."

"Okay, sounds good. I assume you've been working on your feet a lot?"

"Yes," he combed his fingers through his hair, "feels like I've been working nonstop lately. Sorry if I seem tired, it's cause I am." he chuckled.

You giggled, "Hopefully I can get some of that stress out of you and you'll be feeling more comfortable. Now, you're scheduled for a one-hour massage, so I'll be working on your full body. I'll give you a moment in private to undress down to whatever your comfort level is. And I'll have you start out laying on your front."

"Is it okay if...I'm naked during the massage?" he crooked an eyebrow at you.

You nearly blushed at the thought of him naked, then you caught yourself, "That is perfectly acceptable. It is most important that you are comfortable. I'll be back in a couple of minutes, Timmy."

"Sounds great, y/n." he smiled softly, starting to take his jacket off, his eyes wandered down your body.

You almost forgot that you needed to leave the room. "Oh, sorry." you laughed at yourself, leaving the room quickly. You could hear him chuckle lightly at you.

Timothee Chalamet had checked you out. You were certain that's what he was doing. And you were going to put your hands on his body?? NO! You are a trained and certified professional. There was nothing sexual or erotic about what was to happen in that room. This was your job. You were providing an innocent service to this man. Right?

.........

You gave Timmy a short amount of time to get undressed and then get comfortable on the massage table, then knocked on the door.

"I'm ready, you can come in." he called from inside the room.

The sound of the calming spa music and the mist from the humidifier in the room brought you to your senses. This is what you did every day. Timmy was no different than any other client.

You found him lying on his stomach as you had instructed him. His cute little bubble butt exposed. You shook your head, getting rid of your filthy thoughts. You then took the blanket on the table and covered him up to his waist with it.

You didn't speak as you lubed your hands up with lotion. You almost always remained quiet during your massages, so that the client can be at their most relaxed state.

As you pressed your hands into his muscles, you said, "If the pressure is too much, just let me know."

Timmy hummed an, "Okay." underneath you.

You went into your massage routine, finding the hard and tender spots up in his shoulders. As you worked out his knots, you took notice of his smooth, pale skin, and his many sprawling freckles all along his back. He didn't make a sound or move at all as you got the deep kinks out, and you knew that they had to be painful. "Be sure to drink plenty of water this evening, to flush out all of those knots, Timmy." you said.

His body was built thin, but his muscles were firm. He was healthy and strong, you could tell. You moved around toward his feet to massage his legs. His calves were tight, so you gave them a good kneading with your fingers.

Next were his feet which were rather long and bony. But they weren't smelly or hairy, so you were glad. Timmy actually smelled quite nice, like soap and a little bit of musk.

"Okay, Timmy, you may turn over onto your back now. Take it nice and slow." you said, as thirty minutes had gone by, and you had finished his back side.

He did as you instructed, slowly turning over to lay on his back. As he settled comfortably, you tucked the blanket along his waistline again.

Timmy's eyes were closed, so he didn't see you bite your lip as he turned over. His chest and abs were super defined. You imagined your tongue running down the lines and valleys of his body, and flicking over his tiny, cute nipples.

You pumped some more lotion into your hands, warming the cream between your palms before spreading your hands over his chest.

You heard a soft, contented sigh leave his throat. You smiled, please with yourself at making him comfortable. Thus was the goal of the massage therapist: to soothe your clients.

"You're great with your hands, y/n." Timmy said, opening his eyes under hooded lids and looking at you.

"So I've heard." you answered, running your fingertips under his collarbones.

"Is it weird if I watch you work?" he asked.

You swallowed, continuing your hand movements along his chest. "No, this is your appointment, sir, you may do as you wish."

"As I wish?" he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk toying with his lips.

"I just mean you should do what makes you comfortable." you moved up, pushing your fingers into his shoulders. The more he talked to you, the more nervous you felt.

"Are you always so professional sounding, y/n?"

"When I am on the clock, yes, Mr. Chalamet." you answered, rubbing and massaging his upper arms.

"What if I paid you to stay after you got off the clock?"

You blushed, but kept your poise, "Well, if you're paying me, sir, am I not on the clock still?"

"Touche." he said simply, then rested quietly, closing his eyes for several minutes as you massaged his forearms and his hands.

You fought the urge to nibble and suck on his long fingers. As you circled your thumbs into his palm, you stared idly at his hands, wondering how his fingers would feel inside of you. Gently, you set his arm down on the table.

You moved down slightly to work on his abdomen, and then his lower body. You rubbed your fingers in your taught patterns along his abdominal muscles, mentally reminding yourself that you were a professional. Though Timmy's previous offer gave hints to something perhaps not so professional.

"What are you thinking, y/n?" came his soft voice, "And be honest." It was as if he had known you for years and could see right through you.

"Um, nothing, sir, I'm just working." you made a feeble attempt to resist the temptation of this man. He was winning.

"I think you're lying." his tone was slightly harsher now. "Are you thinking about my cock? Don't lie to me." He moved up, propping himself onto his elbows and looking at you.

Okay, it was time to play. "Hmm, maybe I am, Mr. Chalamet." You looked at him.

"Well, you should know that I can't stop thinking about your tits. Not even those scrubs can hide how nice they are."

"Really? You think so?" you teased, placing your hands over your boobs.

"Yeah." he replied, tucking his tongue between his teeth cheekily.

"Well, Mr. Chalamet,"

"Timmy." he corrected you.

"Timmy," pushed your hair back off your shoulder, trying to exude confidence, "you show me yours; I'll show you mine." you grinned.

"Take the blanket off me." he demanded.

"Hm." you hummed, leaning over and pulling the big, white blanket off of his lower body, leaving him totally exposed. His cock was long and half hard already. You were genuinely intrigued by the size of him.

"Now take your clothes off." he ordered, not making a move from the massage table.

"So bossy, Timmy." you teased, but shed your uniform and underwear anyway.

The instant your breasts were free, he groped them, "Fuck, they're so nice." He pinched each of your nipples between his long fingers.

You were turned on the second he touched you, and you started to get wet. "Should I massage your cock for you?"

"Yes, please." he answered, leaning back on the table again.

You got the bottle of lotion, and he watched you pump some straight onto his cock. You then set the bottle back down and wrapped your hands around his length. You worked your hands up and down on him, slowly at first.

You looked at Timmy's face as you stroked his cock. His eyes closed, lips pressed together, he let out a "mmm" sound. He began to move his hips upward to meet the rhythm of your hands.

You rolled your wrists back and forth, creating a tight friction on his smooth cock. The lotion worked wonderfully for a hand job. Timmy's cock got fully hard for you, and you had never seen a cock stand so tall. A tiny bead of precum seeped out of his tip. You felt desperate to taste it.

You leaned forward to put your mouth around the tip of his cock. You put your tongue on the saltiness of his precum, then swirled your tongue around him. You took your mouth off of him to lick a stripe from his base to the tip, then you put him back in your mouth to suck.

You moaned at how good his cock felt sliding in and out of your mouth. Timmy kept a firm grip on your hair. You gently massage his balls with your hands, then used your tongue on them.

"Oh, y/n." Timmy cooed.

You licked you hand and jerked his cock again, looking at his shiny, slick body all lubed up from the massage. You licked the head of his cock, then said, "You know, looking like that could get a man ridden to death."

"Yeah?" Timmy raised his brows, "Well, let's see." he made the "come here" motion with his fingers.

You took the invitation to climb onto him. You straddled his waist, and held his cock as you sunk your pussy onto it. His cock introduced a massive pressure inside of you. "Fuck, Timmy." you sighed.

He put his hands on your hips, digging his fingers into your skin.

You grabbed onto his abs, then softly started moving to and fro, getting a feel for his cock, letting it stretch you. You picked up speed, riding him fast, having an image of riding a bull in your mind. You whimpered at the pleasure his cock gave as it hit your g spot.

"Up and down, please." Timmy huffed out the request.

"Yes sir." you said, grinning as you bounced on his dick. You could hear the slapping of damp skin on skin, your ass hit his thighs over and over. You cursed again, tightening your hold on his body, probably scratching him, but he didn't seem to mind.

You felt Timmy's hand gripping your hips, and he slowly started to shake you back and forth as you were fucking him up and down.

The head of his cock hit your g spot with each thrust. It was immaculate. It was pleasure like you hadn't known before. You cried out, you squeezed your breasts, as you trembled on the brink of orgasm.

You knew you were coming, you stopped your movements, pressing your hands onto his chest so you wouldn't fall. You nearly collapsed onto him, huffing and puffing, trying to catch your breath.

Timmy put his arms around you and gave you a kiss on the side of your head. Without a word, he got out from under you.

You felt an instant sense of cold and emptiness once his skin was no longer on yours and you thought that he was going to leave.

Before you could even process it happening, Timmy grabbed you, pulling you to the edge of the table. You gasped as he brought your ass up.

He spread your pussy lips from behind you, and you felt his warm breath on your clit. He swiped his tongue over your pussy, his hands squeezing your ass as he did so.

Your body shook as you were overwhelmed with pleasure.

Timmy suckled your clit between his lips, then dipped his tongue onto it. He did it over and over again, in a pattern that drove you crazy. You moaned his name like he was God.

His mouth left your pussy, but he quickly replaced the sensation with a swift push of his cock all the way inside you, making your toes curl.

"Oh, my fucking god." you purred, taking a grip onto the blanket beside you.

Timmy held onto your waist firmly as he pumped his cock in and out of you. You could hear him breathing hard and grunting. "Do you fuck all of your clients, y/n?"

"No!" you cried. He thrusted deep into you, making you pause before you could say another word. "I've never done anything like this before."

He grabbed your ass by the handful, ramming you hard and fast now, "I knew you were a good girl, ahh, I could just tell." He leaned onto your body, pushed you down onto your chest, then drilled into you.

You moaned wildly; the legs of the massage table creaked as the table shook. Timmy might break the table, but you didn't care.

"Fuck." he muttered, pulling his cock out of you.

You raised up, looked behind you to see him jerking himself and he came in white streams on your ass cheek.

Timmy groaned in the most feral way. Coming down from his high, he looked at you.

You giggled as your eyes met, you couldn't believe the filth that just transpired in your workplace, and how much you loved it.

"I'll be coming back here for sure." Timmy declared.

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