#i'll hold my breath but it looks interesting

[taekookpassion]

Devil's Queen👑

<< Picture credit to the rightful owners >>

Characters : Underworld mafia Jeon Jungkook, Unnamed Female lead (You can name whatever name you want dears) Summary : In the depths of a lavish mansion, Jungkook, a dark and powerful man who holds dominion over all he encounters, meets his match in a woman who refuses to bow to his desires. A relentless dance of dominance and defiance unfolds as they engage in a sensual power struggle, where neither is willing to back down. Will Jungkook’s dark heart be tamed by her light, or will they both be consumed by the flames they’ve ignited? Warnings : This story contains hidden sexual acts, including themes of dominance and submission. Not suitable for readers under 18. Power Play/ Dominance & Submission, Emotional manipulation and Possessiveness Word count : ~ 3.5k words

Characters Description:

Jeon Jungkook: The male lead, portrayed as a dominant figure with deep, dark desires. He’s powerful, controlling, and known for his cold demeanor. However, beneath the surface, he craves connection and someone who can match his intensity. His character evolves from simply seeking dominance to yearning for an equal.

Female Lead (unnamed): A fierce, independent woman who refuses to submit to anyone. She’s strong-willed, alluring, and intelligent, using both her body and her mind to challenge Jungkook. Her power comes not from brute force but from her ability to stand her ground and meet Jungkook head-on in both passion and willpower. She gradually reveals she’s not just an opponent but his perfect match, capable of both love and defiance.

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In the grimy underbelly of Seoul, where shadows intertwined with neon lights, Jeon Jungkook was a name that echoed with fear. A predator cloaked in the guise of a dangerously handsome man, his piercing black eyes mirrored the emptiness within—a soul long consumed by darkness. He ruled the city's underground with ruthless power, his nightclub a playground for his vices and dominion.

As he walked through the dimly lit corridor, the bass from the dance floor was a mere murmur to his sharp ears. The air, thick with desperation and greed, was oddly comforting. His shiny black shoes clicked against the concrete, a rhythmic reminder of the lives he controlled. The club was his realm, where every indulgence and display of dominance was his to command.

Passing the velvet curtains of the VIP section, Jungkook's gaze fell on a girl who seemed like an angel amidst the demons. Her porcelain skin and deep, mysterious blue eyes contrasted sharply with the usual patrons. Her cascading hair and flawless form were mesmerizing, drawing his interest.

Approaching her with a predatory grace, he asked, "How much for a night?" 

His voice, a seductive purr, had made many quiver with desire. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her surrender. But she looked up at him, unclouded by fear. 

"I'm not for sale," she replied, her tone a defiant melody.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The rejection struck him like a jolt, stirring a long-buried sensation of challenge. 

"You don't know who you're dealing with," he said, his voice dripping with both malice and curiosity. 

"I can make your wildest dreams come true—or your worst nightmares."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. 

"Everyone has a price, angel," he whispered. 

"Name yours, and I'll make it worth your while." His hand brushed her cheek, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the heat of the room. The smell of his cologne, a heady mix of leather and musk, filled her senses.

She shivered but held firm. "My body isn't for sale," she repeated, her voice shaking but resolute. "I'm not like the others."

Jungkook's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. 

"Oh, I believe you're different," he murmured. 

"But that's precisely why I'm interested. You see, it's not just about the conquest. It's about breaking through that stubborn façade of yours."

He traced a finger along her jawline, his touch light but deliberate. 

"Tell me, angel," he purred, "how do you plan to resist the inevitable? Do you think you can hold out against me? The more you resist, the more I want to see you fall."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her defiance. "I will never be like the rest," she said firmly. 

"You can try all you want, but you'll never own me."

Jungkook's gaze darkened, his mind a storm of conflicting desires. "We'll see about that," he said softly, his voice a velvet promise laced with danger. 

"I have all the time in the world to make you mine. And believe me, I'm patient."

As he stepped back, his gaze lingered on her, a silent promise of the tumultuous game to come. The girl had awakened a challenge within him, and Jungkook was ready to play, no matter the cost.

The days turned into weeks, and Jungkook's obsession only deepened. From the shadows, he watched her every move—a dance that seemed to taunt him mercilessly. He sent gifts and flowers that wilted before reaching her, and notes that she burned unread. Yet, she remained untouchable, a flame always just out of his grasp. His frustration mounted, patience thinning like a spider's web in a storm. He needed to make her his, to break down her walls and claim her as his queen. Thus, he devised a plan to bring her to him, whether she willed it or not.

On a fateful, rain-shrouded night, Jungkook emerged from the darkness, his eyes locked on his prize. She walked the streets alone, her halo of light oblivious to the lurking danger. He moved with the silence of shadows, closing the distance between them in an instant. Without a word, he enveloped her in the embrace of his leather jacket, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a seductive mist. 

"Get in the car," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Her heart raced as she stared into the abyss of his eyes. For a fleeting moment, she considered fleeing, but something in his gaze held her captive—a promise of something she didn't fully understand but desperately craved. With trembling hands, she slid into the backseat of the luxurious vehicle, the leather cool against her heated skin. The car door slammed shut, and the engine roared to life, the purr of power beneath them as they sped away from the safety of the street lights.

The drive was a blur, the city lights streaking by like distant stars. When the car finally stopped, she found herself before a mansion that seemed to exist in both her dreams and nightmares. Jungkook's mansion loomed—a monolith of opulence and darkness. The rain had ceased, but the droplets on the windows painted a picture of a gilded prison she wasn't sure she wanted to escape. He led her inside, the warmth of the mansion embracing her like a lover's caress.

The grand hall was a testament to his wealth, walls adorned with art that whispered of a man with too much power and too little conscience. She could feel his gaze on her, a heavy weight that stripped her bare. He guided her to a room as luxurious as it was intimidating. 

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, his tone deceptively casual. 

"We have much to discuss." With that, he left her alone, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine. 

She knew what he wanted, and she knew she couldn't give it to him—not without losing herself in the process. As she surveyed the opulent space, she wondered if she had the strength to resist the devil's charms.

Hours ticked by, each second a silent scream in her ears. She waited, her heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts. What did he want from her? Why hadn't he taken her already? The anticipation was maddening, a slow burn threatening to consume her. When the door finally opened, Jungkook stepped inside, his gaze never leaving hers. Dressed in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back, every inch of him radiated power and dominance. 

"You're still here," he said, his smile cold and calculating. "I must admit, I didn't think you would be."

He walked closer, his footsteps echoing in the vast room. His hand reached out, fingers tracing the line of her jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. 

"You intrigue me, angel," he whispered, his breath hot and tantalizing. 

"Most women would have surrendered by now, but you... you stand firm." His hand slid down to her neck, gripping it gently, his thumb pressing into her pulse point. 

"What makes you so different?" His eyes searched hers, looking for a crack in her armor, something to exploit.

"I'm not for sale," she repeated, her voice steadier. 

"I won't be anyone's queen if it means losing myself." Jungkook chuckled, the sound a chilling caress. 

"You think you have a choice?" He leaned in closer, his breath scorching against her skin. 

"You're wrong. You're already mine." His hand slipped lower, his thumb brushing the swell of her breast. 

"But I'll give you one chance to prove your worth. One night, one opportunity to show me you're more than just a pretty face."

His lips hovered near her ear, his voice a dark promise. 

"Let me show you how irresistible it can be to give in. Just imagine, one night in my world, and you might find you don't want to leave." His fingers lingered, tracing her curves with a possessive claim. 

"Or maybe you're just afraid of what might happen when you finally let go. Are you?"

She swallowed hard, the heat of his touch both intoxicating and terrifying. The line between desire and fear blurred as he leaned back, his eyes never leaving her, a challenge and a promise in one.

The air crackled with tension, their breaths mingling in a tantalizing dance of desire and fear. She knew what Jungkook was proposing—a high-stakes battle of wills, a test of her purity against his darkness. And she knew she had to win. For if she didn't, she would be lost to him forever. 

"Fine," she said, her voice a whisper, barely more than a breath. 

"One night. But know this, Jungkook. I'm not playing to be your queen. I'm playing to survive." He smirked, his eyes glinting with dark excitement. 

"We'll see about that."

The tension in the room was palpable as he released her, his hand lingering for just a moment before he turned to leave. She felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as the door closed behind him. But she had made her decision. 

She would play his game, but she would not be his pawn. She had to outsmart the devil, to turn his own lust against him. As she changed into the elegant gown he had provided, she could feel the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind—a plan that might just save her soul.

The fabric of the gown was like liquid silk, sliding over her skin like a warm caress. The dress was a deep crimson, a color that seemed to scream temptation and danger. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized she had never felt more powerful—or more vulnerable. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the night ahead. Her heart raced, but she couldn't let him see her fear. She had to become the predator now, not the prey.

When Jungkook returned, his eyes widened with hunger at the sight of her. She knew she had chosen the right weapon—her beauty. He was a man accustomed to taking what he wanted, and she would use that to her advantage. 

They danced together, their bodies moving in a sensual rhythm that spoke of passion and dominance. She felt his hands on her, his breath on her neck, and she knew she was playing with fire. But she had to keep the flames at bay, to make him want her without giving in.

As the night wore on, the tension grew thicker. Jungkook's touches grew bolder, his kisses more demanding. She could feel the heat of his desire, the beast within him straining at its leash. But she didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, she met him with equal fire, her own desire a siren's call that threatened to drown them both. 

He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promises of power and pleasure, but she knew better than to trust the devil's tongue. She had to be the one in control, to make him crave her without ever truly having her. And as the night grew late, she could feel him losing his grip on his restraint.

The moment came—the crescendo of their dance of seduction. He led her to his bed, the sheets black as the abyss of his soul. She lay down, her heart racing, her mind racing faster. As he climbed on top of her, she knew she had won the first round. But the battle was far from over. She had to keep him guessing, keep him wanting. 

She wrapped her legs around him, her nails digging into his back, pulling him closer. And as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss, she whispered her terms, a challenge that made his eyes flash with something akin to surprise. 

"One night," she repeated, her voice a silky promise. 

"And if I win, I walk away. Free."

The air was electric, charged with the energy of their unspoken contract. Jungkook's smile was a wicked curve, a promise of both pleasure and pain. 

"Very well," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony that resonated through her body. 

"One night. But if I win, angel, you become mine." His teeth grazed her neck, and she could feel the heat of his breath against her skin. 

"And I always win."

He trailed kisses down her neck, his hands roaming her body with a possessive hunger that made her pulse race. 

"Tell me," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr.

"what makes you think you can beat me?" His fingers danced along the edge of the gown, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. She bit her lip, the taste of him still lingering on her mouth. 

"Because," she breathed, "I know what you really want."

Her words hung in the air, a challenge that seemed to ignite something primal within him. His eyes narrowed, the hunger in them deepening to a more sinister lust. 

"And what's that?" His voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. She smirked, a hint of mischief in her gaze. 

"You want someone who's not just a pretty face. Someone who can match your darkness."

He stilled, his hand pausing on the zipper of her dress. 

"Is that what you think?" His tone was deceptively casual, but the tension in his body was a live wire. 

"That I crave a challenge?" She nodded, her voice steady. 

"That's what you've been searching for all along. And I'm going to give it to you." With a sudden jolt of strength, she flipped their positions, straddling him. His eyes widened, a mix of surprise and admiration gleaming in the depths of his irises. 

"We'll see," he said, his smirk returning. 

"But for now, let's play."

Their dance grew more intense, their bodies tangling in a passionate battle of wills. Every touch, every kiss was a silent declaration of war, a promise of dominance and submission. Jungkook's hands roamed her body, expertly teasing and taunting, trying to find the weakness in her armor. 

But she was ready for him, her own hands exploring his body with a calculated precision that had him gritting his teeth. She knew his every move before he made it, anticipating and countering with a grace that was almost supernatural.

Their kisses grew more frantic, breaths mingling in a symphony of desire and malice. He could feel her slipping through his fingers like sand, and it only fueled his hunger. Yet, she remained unyielding, her gaze never wavering from his—a silent promise that she would not be the one to break. As the night deepened, their dance grew bolder, each move more daring than the last.

Their clothes fell away, leaving them both bare and vulnerable under the flickering candlelight. Jungkook's eyes roamed over her, his gaze as potent as a physical touch. "

You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with lust. But she was resolute, her eyes blazing with defiant fire. 

"Not yet," she whispered, her voice a seductive promise. 

"Not until you've proven yourself."

Their bodies moved in a sensual battle, each touch a silent argument, each gasp a concession. Jungkook felt himself losing ground but was too far gone to care. He needed to claim her, to conquer this angel who dared to challenge him. As the night unfolded, their passion grew wilder, the stakes higher. But she remained steadfast, her gaze never leaving his, her body never fully surrendering.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations—his skin against hers, the heat of their breaths, the scent of their desire. Jungkook's touch grew rougher, his kisses more demanding, trying to force her submission. But she met him stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss, her own desire a tempest threatening to consume them both. 

"You can't have me," she murmured, her voice a sultry taunt. 

"Not unless you can tame the storm."

The challenge ignited something primal within him. Jungkook's eyes flashed with a feral hunger. 

"And what makes you so sure?" His breath was hot against her skin as his thumb traced the edge of her inner thigh. She smirked, her eyes darkening with mischief. 

"Because I've seen the cracks in your armor, Jungkook," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. 

"And I know how to exploit them."

With a sudden jolt, she rolled them over, pinning him to the bed. Her hands roamed his chest, her nails lightly scraping against his skin. Jungkook's breaths came in harsh pants, his body reacting to her touch. 

"Is that so?" he rasped. She nodded, her eyes gleaming with victory. 

"I've seen the man beneath the monster. You want more than just a queen. You want an equal."

Their eyes locked, and the air between them charged with something deeper than lust—something that scared them both. He reached up, cupping her face in his hands. 

"Prove it," he breathed, the challenge clear in his gaze. And with that, she leaned down, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was as fiery as it was tender—a dance of dominance and submission, of love and hate, of light and darkness.

As they lost themselves in each other, the night grew wilder. Jungkook's hands roamed her back, his grip tightening, his kisses a branding mark. She whispered sweet nothings in his ear, her breath cool against the heat of his skin. 

"You can't own me," she murmured. 

"But you can have me." Her words were a drug, a seductive promise that drove him wild.

Their battle of wills intensified, their kisses a silent war cry. Jungkook's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as if he could consume her very essence. She moaned into his mouth, the sound driving him to the brink. 

"You're mine," he growled, his hips moving in a demanding rhythm. But she didn't back down, her hands digging into his shoulders. 

"No," she said, her voice a seductive purr. 

"I belong to no one."

Their bodies moved together, a symphony of passion and power. Jungkook's eyes searched hers, looking for the submission he so desperately needed. But she gave him nothing but fire, her eyes a blue flame that threatened to consume him. 

As they reached the pinnacle of their dance, their hearts racing, their breaths mingling, he realized he didn't just want her to be his queen—he wanted her to be his equal, to stand by his side in the pits of hell and laugh at the demons that tried to tear them apart.

Their climax was an explosion of light and darkness, a battle of wills ending in a beautiful surrender. They lay there, panting and exhausted, their bodies entwined in a tapestry of passion. Jungkook stared up at her, his eyes filled with a newfound emotion—love. It was a feeling both terrifying and exhilarating.

"You've won," he murmured, his voice hoarse from the intensity. She smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. 

"I told you I would." Her hand traced his jawline, a touch that belied the strength of her spirit. 

"But the real question," she said, her voice a soft caress, "is whether you're willing to let me win your heart."

Jungkook's chest tightened, the realization of his feelings for her hitting him like a sledgehammer. He had never allowed himself to love, never allowed anyone to get that close. But as he looked into her eyes, he knew he couldn't walk away. 

"What happens now?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. She leaned down, her breath warm against his skin. 

"Now," she whispered, "we write our own story."

And so, they did. In the quiet moments between passionate embraces, they shared their deepest secrets, their darkest fears. They laughed and loved, discovering that together, they could conquer the shadows that had once ruled their lives. Jungkook had found his queen—the one person who could match his darkness with an even greater light.

As the sun rose, casting its golden glow across the room, Jungkook pulled her closer, her head resting on his chest. He felt her heart beating against his, a rhythm that matched his own. In that moment, he knew he had found his equal—his partner in this dance of power and passion. 

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice filled with fierce possessiveness. 

"But," she said, her eyes shining with mischievous light, 

"only if you're willing to be mine."

He kissed her forehead, his arms tightening around her. 

"Always," he promised, and she believed him. 

For in the warmth of his embrace, she had found her home—a place where she could be both the angel and the devil she truly was.

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[sukunasweetheart]

oh, to fit him like a glove...

WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM

based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune

word count; 3k

imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.

and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.

he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.

he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.

"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.

outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.

"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.

his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.

...not yet.

he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.

his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.

"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.

"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.

"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"

he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.

"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."

the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.

however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.

one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.

"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.

sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.

the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.

the temptation is too great.

not. yet.

this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.

if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.

the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.

" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.

"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.

rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.

"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.

his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.

"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.

"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.

sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.

you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.

he suddenly spreads your legs.

at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.

a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.

the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.

it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.

once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.

he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.

when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.

ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.

your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.

he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.

sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...

"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.

"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.

"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"

"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.

"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.

veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.

sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.

few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.

"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.

"are you trying to test my patience right now?"

you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.

" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.

his gaze softens.

"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"

and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.

you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.

you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.

sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.

"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"

you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.

he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.

"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.

you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.

such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...

his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...

sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.

" 'm cumming-"

his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.

his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.

sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.

your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.

suddenly, he stills.

it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.

when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.

"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.

"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."

not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.

your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.

"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.

his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.

you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.

sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.

cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.

"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.

his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.

"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.

all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.

he breaks away from your lips.

"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.

you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.

his thrusts slowly start back up again.

"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.

"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."

your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.

... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.

you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.

sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.

once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.

"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.

you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.

"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.

"sukuna... too full..."

he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.

"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."

he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?

Masterlist

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[tojirights]

bro i’m going absolutely INSANE over alastor 😻😻

so, how about when lucifer comes by the hotel, he subtly flirts w alastors girl. alastor is on the verge of going apeshit and almost leaves charlie fatherless.

instead of murdering anyone, he decides to take his frustrations out on his darling, leaving bite marks and hickies on spots just visible enough for lucifer to notice next time he comes by..

a/n: im OBSESSED 😍😍

alastor immediately recognized lucifer as competition on multiple fronts. obviously, the king of hell was a threat in terms of power level, and alastor hated that. but alastor also quickly hated how charming the devil was.

upon meeting you, lucifer takes your hand and bows, placing a kiss on your hand as well. alastor's eye twitches, watching someone else put their dirty little hands and mouth on what is his. "my, what a pleasure. you're helping charlie? that's lovely! means i'll get to be seeing you around more, huh? she didn't mention such a pretty little thing was her hotel manager." lucifer speaks to you, a cool smirk on his face. he's clearly interested in you, and while alastor can't blame the man, he's seething with rage. clearing his throat, alastor takes a step towards you and reaches a hand out to lucifer in an attempt to shift his attention.

"alastor." he speaks, barely containing the anger in his voice. "it truly is an honor to be meeting you, sir." you raise a brow at the tense interaction going on in front of you but pay it no mind. lucifer gives alastor a tight lipped smile and shakes his hand. "ah, you as well. charlie has talked about you." you notice the way alastor glares at lucifer, yet keeps a smile on his face the entire time. lucifer turns back to you, putting a gloved hand on the small of your back. "now how's about a tour, hm?" he leans into your ear to whisper, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

behind you, alastor's horns grow and eyes redden, ready to risk it all in a fight with the devil and take out this whole god damned hotel if it meant lucifer never touched you again. "o-oh um, that's typically done by-" you start, but suddenly, charlie is running down the stairs with a panicked look on her face.

"heeyy dad! let's go this way, towards your room! it's late, you should rest." her smile is clearly fake, and you see her eyes dart from you to alastor and back to you. luckily, alastor reeled in his rage when the princess showed up and was back to his normal self on the surface. you can feel the energy coming from your partner, malicious intent painted all over his aura and you gulp. "al, c'mon... charlie's right."

alastor doesn't speak, but he follows you to your room for the night. the door is barely shut before alastor is lifting your legs and tossing you onto the bed. "care to explain why the fuck that little slimy king of hell was all over you?" he doesn't give you another moment to process before he's tugging your shirt over your head. "it's just harmless, al. you know i don't want anyone but you." you assure him, but alastor's teeth find your neck.

"i may trust you, darling, but i do not trust lucifer." his voice has a low growl to it that ignites your core. "but-" you gasp when alastor's mouth closes on the skin behind your ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "no, because he and everyone in this place will know who you belong to." you shudder underneath of him, slight tinges of pain shooting down your spine at every nip and pull of your skin. alastor moves down your neck, leaving a trail of angry red and purple spots in his wake.

his tongue circles every bruise in an attempt to soothe your inflamed skin, but the marks just darken by the second. you hands dive into his hair, holding onto the silky strands. you feel alastor's body shudder as you circle the tufts of hair by his ears, making him press his hips to yours. "everyone in hell, my dear, is going to know that you're mine. not a single soul will ever try to touch you again." his breathing hitches, grinding his quickly hardening cock against your leg. you whimper when his teeth latch onto your collarbone, sucking hard and adding another welt to your skin.

"i want him to hear you." he hisses as he tugs your pants down over your ankles. its hasty, the way alastor frees his cock and pushes into your pussy, but you were more than ready for the intrusion. you cry out, suddenly being so, so full and alastor groans. "yes darling, just like that." your legs wrap around his waist, forcing every thrust just a little further until he's pounding at your cervix.

"d-don't stop sir." you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head while alastor's mouth latches onto the other side of your neck this time. "who do you being to?" he asks, hot breath fanning your skin. "y-you, alastor!" you whine, flexing your hips up to his in an attempt to build friction. "please, make me cum. only you feel so good." alastor peppers you in soft kisses now, ever grateful that you're willing to entertain the idea of letting lucifer know just who makes you feel like this.

alastor sneaks a hand between your bodies to rub skillful circles around your clit until your legs start shaking. "good, good girl. scream for me." he smirks when your tone shifts and he can tell by how tight you squeeze around his cock. "a-alastor fuck!" your body spasms, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you cum. alastor's orgasm follows shortly after, his teeth finding your skin once more as he spills deep inside of your pussy.

you have a brief moment of embarrassment when you think about just how loud you just were, your hand flying up to your mouth. alastor just laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead. "don't panic, my sweet. i think this little display will prove quite effective in keeping lucifers grubby little hands off of you." alastor pulls out slowly and carries you to a nice warm shower before tucking you in for the night.

---

"jesus christ, did you get into a fuckin' fight with a bear?" angel laughs when you walk into the kitchen the next morning. you were covered in hickeys all the way down your neck, and you were barely walking straight. lucifer refuses to make eye contact with you, especially after alastor walks into the room shortly after. "good morning everyone!" alastor chirps, smirking at lucifer who rolls his eyes and sips his coffee.

"well, there's the bear..." husk mutters, earning a cackle from angel.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[bandgie]

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal. 

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow. 

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time. 

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now. 

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod. 

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down. 

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation. 

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles. 

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits. 

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal. 

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt. 

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell. 

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies. 

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless. 

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead. 

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.” 

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub. 

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth. 

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high. 

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body. 

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out. 

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum. 

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him. 

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid. 

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...

Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.

Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.

Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"

Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.

Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.

Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"

Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:

Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.

Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"

Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"

Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"

Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"

Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."

Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."

Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."

Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."

Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"

Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"

Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."

Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"

Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."

Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."

Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"

Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.

Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"

Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…

Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"

Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"

Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.

Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."

Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."

Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"

Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"

Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.

Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."

Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.

Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."

Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.

Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"

Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.

Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"

Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"

Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.

Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"

Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."

Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."

Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.

Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"

Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"

Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.

Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."

Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.

Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"

Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.

Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.

Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.

Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…

Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.

Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.

[rueclfer]

Fake Dating // Bakugou

a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !

You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.

You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.

No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.

You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.

You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's

"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.

"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.

"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”

“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”

"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"

“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.

"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."

Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.

Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.

Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…

You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.

After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.

“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.

You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”

You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.

“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.

You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”

“You do. Like a goose.”

"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.

"It is my job, after all."

He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.

“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.

“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”

“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.

“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"

“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.

“So it's either that or straight vodka?”

“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”

“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.

“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”

You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.

“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.

“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.

“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.

To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.

Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.

"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."

He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.

“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.

“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.

You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.

“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.

You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”

“Do it for me then.” He smirks.

You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.

“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.

You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.

"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.

"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"

"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”

He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.

You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.

You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.

“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."

“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.

You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.

“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.

“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.

“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.

You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”

His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.

It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.

You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.

In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.

Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.

“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.

I'm so FUCKED.

You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.

Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.

You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.

Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.

Of course it was Katsuki.

You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.

You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.

He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.

You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.

"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.

"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.

"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.

"Yes."

"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.

You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.

You purse your lips and remained silent.

"Because... you kissed me?"

You nodded.

"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.

You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.

"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.

Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.

"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."

"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"

He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.

"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."

"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.

You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.

"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.

"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"

His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.

"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."

"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."

He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.

Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.

"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."

He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[peachsayshi]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dirty diaries

minors / ageless / blank blogs dni - gif by @sleepygetou 💓 (used with permission)

ೃ⁀➷ notes: @sleepygetou im blaming you for this quick drabble

ೃ⁀➷ tags: toji x reader; you convince toji to participate in no nut november; suggestive; mentions of groping; fluff - wc: 539

nov. 1 - 9:22 am

"hold on a second - we aren't allowed to have sex and I can't take care of myself either?!"

you smirk with amusement, scooping another spoonful of creamy ice cream from the tub. you're sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs with intrigue while watching your husband place the last clean dinner dish in the cupboard.

"that's why they call it no nut novemeber," you explain, "you're supposed to be abstaining from sex and any sexual relief. oh, and you can't watch porn. that counts as part of the challenge..."

toji turns on his heel to take a step closer. he presses his body against your legs, dark eyes flickering to the spoon in your hand that you're slowly drawing it to his lips in order to feed him some of your ice cream.

he hums, "and the videos and pictures of you that I have on my phone..." he quips, both hands finding the meat of your thighs as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "does that count too?"

you tap the back of the spoon playfully against his nose, watching him scrunch it like a little kitten in response. "yes, they count..." you lecture, despite your cheeks growing unnervingly hot.

"can I still touch you?"

"you can but...like I said, it can't lead to us having sex or any sexual relief. these same rules will apply to me as well-"

"fuck that," toji scoffs, moving his hands further up until they are resting against your hips.

you stick the spoon back into the ice cream, keeping it place as you use your free hand to trail your finger along his jaw. "why not? you think you're going to lose that easily?"

he pouts; the front of his brows pinching together in annoyance.

if there is one thing about your husband that you know for certain, it's that he won't walk away from a challenge.

"what about kissing?" he grumbles, his cheeks turning pink. "because I'm not starting my day without my good morning kiss..."

you giggle, placing the tub absentmindedly by your side so you can wrap your arms around his neck. "kissing is fine," you sweetly assure him, and follow up by placing a gentle peck on his slightly blushing cheek.

he considers it for a minute before huffing in defeat. "alright, I'll guess give it a go..."

you can't stop smiling over the fact that he looks like a child who just had his favorite toy taken away from him and the expression is far too adorable for you to even handle.

"it'll be an interesting challenge," you prompt, already making bets that the man wouldn't last a week. "I promise I won't push your buttons..."

toji arches his brow, picking up on your playfully condescending tone. the hands against your hips snake their way up underneath his old tee that you're wearing, gliding carefully up along your soft tummy. he holds your gaze, can feel the change in your breath underneath his palms. "looks like we're both in it to win it," he murmurs, the scar at the corner of his uplifting into a sinister grin. he cups your breasts in his hands as he grazes over the buds of your nipples delicately. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior as well then, sweetheart. let's see which one of us caves first."

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE REACTION WHEN YOU SUDDENLY SIT ON THEIR LAP ˒

── ୨୧ enha hyung line x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, hyung line work 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 643 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, slightly suggestive ┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝okay what if i just write ot7/different lines works for a while..◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ] maknae line ver !!

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

you sit down onto heeseung's lap out of the blue, and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, a surprised laugh escaping him. "need anything, doll?," he says, his voice tinged with amusement and affection. he leans in, planting soft kisses along the curve of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

"didn't expect to have you in my lap, but I'm definitely not complaining," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your skin. he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, holding you close as if never wanting to let go. "you're too irresistible for your own good." his words are accompanied by a playful squeeze around the waist.

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

as you settle onto jay's lap suddenly, you feel him stiffen slightly beneath you, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion. for a moment, he just stares at you, processing the unexpected closeness.

after a few moments, you feel his arms slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. his touch is hesitant at first, as if he's unsure of what to do, but then he relaxes into it, letting out a soft chuckle. "well, this is unexpected, angel," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

as the minutes pass, jay begins to whisper small things to you, his voice filled with affection and warmth. "you know, you always manage to surprise me," he says softly, his arms holding you securely against him. "but I have to admit, I like it."

JAKE (심재윤)

as you settle comfortably onto Jake's lap, he barely reacts, simply adjusting his position to make you feel comfortable. as if it's the most natural thing in the world, he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand gently tilts your chin upwards to meet his gaze.

he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his touch gentle and familiar. with a slight tilt of your head, he deepens the kiss, leaving your lips nearly swollen. pulling back just slightly, he gazes into your eyes then at your lips

"you know you don't have to surprise me like this for my attention," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. "but I'll never complain about having you in my lap." he leans in to kiss you again.

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

as you suddenly sit on Sunghoon's lap, he can't help but suppress a knowing smirk, though he tries his best to look innocence. "well, look who's feeling bold today," he remarks, his tone teasing as he tries to play it cool..

his arms loop around your waist, drawing you in closer to him, "did you need something, princess?" he asks, his voice tinged with amusement as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face. leaning in, he brushes a soft kiss against your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"you always know how to keep things interesting," he murmurs, his voice deep and quiet.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[slasherscream]

She Likes a Boy (And I’m Not Just a Boy)

pairing:  jordan li x fem!reader

summary: You and Jordan are friends with benefits, and Jordan is trying so hard to be okay with that. Somehow, they still fell in love with you despite their best efforts to not fucking do that. But you've only ever fucked them when they're a guy, so they assume you're only interested in them one way. Just like everyone else. You've never said anything to make them think any different so it's obvious, right? So they take what they can get. Which is only half. And they keep you at a distance, because anything else will kill them.

A/N: flashbacks are in all Italics. some smut.

gif credit: artemidosgifs and stannyramirez

“Oh shit, Jordie, wait-” You can’t catch your breath, legs shaking where they’re thrown over Jordan’s shoulders. 

“Stop fucking squirming.” Jordan huffs, licking some of your wetness off your thigh.

Your vision is swimming a little. How long have you been in this position? Or in Jordan’s room? It’s hard to keep track of anything, when you’re with them. His tongue finds your clit again. Insistent, rough swipes. You’re too overworked now for anything gentle to even register. How many times have you cum now? 

“You always taste so fucking good.” Jordan moans, voice hoarse and low.

He puts a hand under your back to press you further into his mouth. With only your shoulders pushed into the mattress you can’t move. Jordan’s eyes are always glued to your face when you fuck. As if he’s daring you to shy away from whatever he’ll do to you next. 

Considering that his favorite thing to do is overstimulate you, you’re not sure the irritation is fair. What are you supposed to do when he’s made you cum four times and is still going? According to Jordan, the answer is simple: lie there and take it. 

Lifting you up. Pinning you down. These are the solutions he’s arrived at. Jordan hates having to chase you just to give you the orgasm you begged him for in the first place. 

“You ready for my fingers again?” Jordan asks, but it’s not a real question, because you don’t get to so much as gasp before he’s plunging three fingers into you again. 

He’s rough as he rocks his fingers into that soft spot inside of you that always makes your eyes roll back into your head. He knows the angle you like him to use by heart. 

“Fucking shit, Jordan!” Your hands fall into his hair, grip like a vice, and Jordan half moans and half laughs against you.

It’s the vibrations that send you over the edge again. The breath leaving your lungs in one rush as that coil inside releases and makes the world go white and your ears ring. 

You come back to yourself slowly. Jordan hovering over you, pressing kisses into the side of your neck. You grasp at his shoulders, pulling him down so that he's laying on top of you. The weight is comforting after the overwhelming head rush. You still feel shaky. He goes down easily, wrapping one arm underneath you.

“I can feel you smirking, jerk.” You laugh weakly, hitting his arm.

“You soaked my fucking fingers. Think I'm allowed a smirk.” Jordan says. 

He lifts his head from your neck and there's that smug look you love to see him wear. It's enough to make you ready to have him all over again. You settle on gently massaging his scalp. 

“I'll tell you what you're allowed.” You tease, grinning at him. 

“Hah! Always have enough energy to be a fucking brat, huh?” Jordan rolls his eyes. 

You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. “I've got enough energy to make out too! Gimme a kiss.”

“Fucking insatiable.” Jordan scoffs, but gives in. Because he always does. 

It's hard to think when Jordan kisses you. He kisses like he doesn't need to breathe. Or be anywhere else but with you. One of his hands finds yours, locking your fingers together. You squeeze tight. Try not to imagine holding his hand like this outside each other's dorms. Because that only ever makes you feel empty afterwards when all the hormones from the orgasms should leave you floating.

You get a third wind when Jordan rocks his hips against yours and you feel he's hard again. You reach a hand between the two of you, grasping his dick to angle him back inside. Thank God for Supe refractory periods. You sigh when his tip pushes into you. 

“Yeah princess? You want me again?” He tries to sound teasing, nonchalant, but he only sounds like he wants you just as bad.

You rock your hips so that he slides inside fully. Watch him tilt his head back and moan for you as you move. Hungrily taking in the way every sound shapes his mouth. You lean up to kiss at the underside of his jaw. You can't leave any hickies on him but you always kiss him like you want to. God you fucking wish you could. Maybe if you could leave marks people wouldn't chase after them so much. If everyone knew Jordan was yours. But Jordan isn't yours. 

You bite him a little harder.

Jordan's hand finds your throat. You whine, the noise strangled against his palm. You go lax as he pushes you back into the bed. Gently. His fingers flex, a little tighter, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Gonna be good for me?” Jordan asks.

You nod your head frantically, legs dragging him closer. It's never close enough. No matter what you do. 

“Yeah, I'll be good, Jordie.” You say the words he wants to hear, feeling your head go soft and thoughtless again.

“Fucking liar.” He grinds his hips into yours and chokes you harder when you clench around him. 

You’d been fast friends, best friends, since the moment you stepped on campus and met one another as freshman. Talking to Jordan. Spending time with them. Everything that first year didn’t even feel like getting to know one another. It just felt like coming home.

You didn’t say as much to Jordan. They would have rolled their eyes and scoffed at how sensitive you were, if you had. But you knew they felt the same way. You were the one Jordan went to whenever they were sad. When they were excited. When they were coming into themselves, learning to love who they were after a lifetime of everyone else telling them not to. 

You were the first person to see them. Before Brink, even, you saw them. All their potential. All their greatness. All of them, and Jordan had never forgotten that. 

Jordan saw you too, in turn. You’d never felt like much more than a pretty face, before Jordan. 

You were the type of beautiful that made people look twice when they walked past you. When you were a little girl you soaked in all the praise like a flower. Every: ‘she’s so pretty’, and ‘well look at her!’, or ‘oh wow!’ was nourishment to your little soul.

It would be impossible to pinpoint the moment you realized that was all anyone saw. Even once your powers manifested. Advanced healing, advanced reflexes, limited invulnerability, energy manipulation. You were the whole nine yards. Your parents, when you were thirteen, had sent a video of you using your powers off to Vought. 

A man and woman showed up a day later in suits, wanting to meet you personally.

“She sure is a little looker, isn’t she?” The man had said, and he’d held your hand for too long before he let go. 

They’d come prepared. With ideas for costumes. Which team of teenage Supes you should be placed with. If you should just go straight for television. The adults talked around you. Not paying you any mind as you stared at the costume that would reveal so much skin. You’d never worn a skirt that short before. You hadn’t been allowed, hadn’t even wanted to, really. If you’d come home from the mall having bought anything like that on your own, your parents would have blown a fuse. Now they just sat on either side of you, mile wide grins plastered on their faces. 

All the voices faded to background noise. You realized maybe you were too young to be a superhero. You thought it would involve more... saving people. Running into burning buildings. Getting the bad guys. Saving the day. The people from Vought were only talking about magazine spreads. About what persona would fit your look. 

“What about school?” You’d asked, quietly, and everyone in the room had turned to look at you baffled. 

“What about school, sweetheart?” The woman laughed. “You’ll get a private tutor, of course. But your future is big. You won’t even have to worry about stuff like that anymore. Goodbye lame homework. Hello red carpets!” 

You sat very quietly until they left. Your parents were more angry than you’d ever seen them, when you told them you wanted to wait until after high-school to pursue being a hero. 

You knew telling them you weren’t sure you wanted to do it at all was off the table. 

During high-school you noticed people didn’t listen to you. You would be telling someone about your favorite book; or talking about a movie that changed your whole worldview, only to realize the other person had been staring at your lips the entire time. 

You stopped talking so much about things you cared about. No one listened anyways. 

‘Bimbo.’

‘Airhead.’

‘Slut.’ 

Were all things you’d heard before you’d ever gone on your first date. Gotten so much as your first kiss on the cheek. High-school was lonely, and you couldn’t talk about it being lonely without sounding like an asshole, you quickly realized. The few friends you had would roll their eyes when you’d try and vent. You thought it was just playful ribbing. Friends tease each other. It made you feel included! Until you caught them mocking you behind your back to one another.

‘Look at me, I’m Y/N, and life’s so hard because I’m so pretty and popular. Is she fucking serious? Stuck up bitch.’ 

You stopped venting.

When you got to God-U, you weren’t sure what to expect. College was a chance to reinvent yourself. Even if you weren’t sure you wanted to be a Superhero you knew this could be a chance to find your people. Lifelong friends. 

People who you could get coffees with between classes. Who would go to all your birthdays and want to be there. People you would spend hours on the phone with. Fall asleep studying together. Girls who might like you enough to make you their maid of honor. Guys who would high five you when you did something cool and not try to sneak a glance at your chest. 

You were imagining it all as you unpacked your boxes. Your stomach twisting itself into knots. Living in a half world between excitement and dread.

Then you met your roommate and she gave you the look. The look you’d gotten all your life from girls, and you knew you’d never be real friends. Girls who looked at you like that kept their boyfriends away from you at parties. And they never shared the secrets that friends share because they thought you’d put them in a fucking burn book. The look alone almost made you give up and just go home. 

You went for a walk instead, fighting back tears. That’s when you ran into Jordan. Literally, ran into Jordan. You knocked the both of you to the ground. 

When they’d snapped, “What the fuck dude?” at you, harsh and angry and very them, you’d burst into tears. 

It wasn’t the perfect way to meet your person. But you were glad you met them at all. 

 “Stop moving your eyes away from the screen.” Jordan says. 

“I’m not allowed to move my eyes away from the screen?” You laugh.

“No, this part is really important. You have to pay attention. I wanna see if you catch it.” 

You try your best to keep your eyes glued to the screen, as instructed. But you can’t help the way you keep glancing towards Jordan. She looks good. She always looks good, but right now you don’t even want to look away from her. The colors of the movie flashing across her face, blues and golds, make her look like a painting. 

“Are you watching?” Jordan asks, and you smile at the excitement in her voice. 

You look back towards the movie, wondering what she wants you to see so badly. You look just in time. A small detail catches your eyes and you gasp, reaching out a hand blindly to shake her in your own excitement. 

“Did you see that in the background?” You shake her again, for good measure.

“I saw it.” Jordan laughs.

“That means that he killed the wife!” 

“How do you figure?”

You pause the movie, ready to explain where you think the plot is heading. When you turn to face Jordan you have to take a deep breath. You don’t know whether you love or hate that look. Your feelings on the matter change day to day. 

Jordan is leaned up into the arm of the couch, relaxed, and she’s staring at you with The Smile she wears sometimes. She started doing it a few months into your friendship. Back when you used to talk and then slowly stop. So completely sure that nobody wanted to hear what you had to say. 

Jordan had asked you, back then, why you always stopped telling stories halfway through, or stopped talking about your day, or the latest book you’d read. 

You wanted to lie, at first. Eventually you told a half truth, “I never have anything interesting to say.” 

Jordan had looked at you for a long time. You were worried that somehow, up until that moment, they hadn’t realized how boring you were. But you acknowledging it out loud had made them think about it, and now they were going to ditch you for a friend who was interesting, funny, and smart. 

Instead, Jordan had told you that she loved the way your mind worked, and she’d smiled The Smile at you, for the first time. You hadn’t known how to respond, to the words, or the smile. You turned the conversation back towards Brink’s latest class assignment. 

Later that night you’d gone back to your dorm room and cried, but you’d felt happier than you’d ever felt. 

It made you feel warm and soft that three years later Jordan still smiled at you like that. It felt like your cue to say anything on your mind, no matter how dumb. Green light means go. The Smile means talk. 

“Well?” Jordan nudges you with her foot, still smiling, and waiting for you. 

You shake your head to break free of the spell she puts you in, “Well, look at his sense of style for the entire movie. All his stuff is modern and sleek and then the first time we see his bedroom all the rest of the decor is in line with the rest of the house, except that one thing. All the camera shots are so purposeful and they lingered a little, after he walked away. They wanted us to see he was keeping a trophy. He totally killed her, didn’t he?” 

Jordan pauses for a second and then laughs. “I don’t know how you always guess right. I didn’t see the twist coming at all the first time I watched it.”

“Secondary super power.”

“Connecting all the dots?”

“Connecting all the dots, yeah.” 

“Y/N! Y/N, thank fucking god, you gotta come with me.” Cate grabbed you by the arm, rougher than she’d ever touched you before. 

“I was on my way to class.” You tripped over your feet as Cate pulled you the opposite way you needed to go.

“Forget class! Jordan’s gonna get themself expelled.” Cate snapped. 

“What?!” 

“They’re beating the shit out of Peter in the locker room. Luke’s not on campus. I can’t get close enough to stop them-”

You’d broken into a sprint towards the fighting arena. You didn’t know what the hell was happening. Peter and Jordan had spoken maybe ten times to each other in all the years of attending the same university. 

You’d never gotten anywhere so fast in your life. Andre was standing steadfast in front of the entrance to the boy’s locker room, a small group of other students standing outside. You could hear the sounds of fighting pouring out from the door. 

“Back it up you fucking vultures.” Andre snipped. He might not have super strength but he was still Number 4, and could look intimidating when he needed to. 

“Andre, what’s going on?” You pushed to the front of the crowd. 

“Thank fuck Cate found you. You gotta get in there. Jordan’s gonna fucking mur-” Andre glanced at the phones pointed at the both of you, trying to record even a drip of gossip about top students trying to seriously hurt each other and lowered his voice, “Jordan is actually gonna fucking kill Peter. I’ll keep the crowds back. Get in there.” 

You moved past him into the locker room and your jaw dropped at the state of the place. 

You thought these lockers were bolted down. Apparently not. At least four rows of them were knocked to the ground, heavily dented. A water bottle refilling station had been crumpled to nothing, exposed pipe spraying water across the floor.

“Get off of me you fucking animal.” You heard Peter cry from further in the room and ran. 

Jordan had shoved Peter up against the wall. You were surprised Peter was still conscious. He was lucky he healed so fast. You could see his black eye fading even as Jordan broke his nose. 

“You fucking stay away from her. You understand? I hear you fucking talking like that again and I take the tongue out of your fucking mouth, you asshole.” 

Peter laughs through a mouth full of blood,“Not my fault she gave it up so easy, Li-” 

Jordan throws him into one of the last standing lockers and you see that they are indeed bolted into the ground. Evidently, Jordan throws stronger than Supe resistant steel can take. When Jordan moves to lift Peter out of the crater his body made in the downed locker you rush in between them, putting a shield up. 

“Y/N?” You can see some of the anger fade from Jordan’s face, just a little, at the sight of you.

“Hey, Jordie. Think Peter has had enough.”

Jordan scoffs, “No, he really fucking hasn’t,” he leans around you to yell at Peter, who’s trying to push himself onto his knees, “He’s still running his fucking mouth!” 

“Pussy whipped asshole-” Peter groans.

You glance at Peter on the floor, aghast, “Peter! Stop antagonizing, Jordan. What’s wrong with you?” 

“Unbelievable, honestly. You walk in on Jordan kicking my ass and you tell me to stop antagonizing the fucker?” Peter huffs, pushing his nose back into place so it won’t heal wrong. 

“Name calling isn’t gonna make him stop kicking your ass. I’m trying to help.” You shoot back.

“Well, no one needs your help, you dumb-” 

“Hey.” Jordan interrupts. He’s not yelling anymore, but his voice is the loudest thing in the room. “Watch your mouth, Peter. I fucking mean it.” 

You look back and forth between them. They watch each other for a long moment. Jordan looking eerily calm. Peter looks away first. 

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. Come on, Y/N.” Jordan grabs your hand and marches you out of the locker room. Past Andre and Cate, who try to stop you both but Jordan waves them off and muscles his way past the crowd too. 

He doesn’t stop until you’re back in his dorm room and he’s shut the door behind the two of you. 

“You were fucking that loser?” He asks, clicking the lock into place.    

“You’re lucky Andre and Cate kept people out of the locker room so there’s no video of everything! You could get expelled, Jordan! What the fuck happened?” 

“He hit me first and he’s not even in the top ten. What’s he at? Number 14? No one’ll give a shit what happens to him. When did you start fucking him?”

“I’m not fucking him! Or… I’m not just, fucking him. I’m… I was dating him. Why were you two fighting?” 

“Dating? For how fucking long? You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Jordan’s hair is already a disheveled mess. He yanks his fingers through the strands and makes it worse. 

“We’ve been going on dates for like… three months? Kinda? Maybe.” You say quietly. 

“Three months?! Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck?” 

“Why are you so mad?”

“Friends talk to each other about shit like this! And if you’d talked to me, I would have told you that Peter is a clout chasing piece of shit that’ll never amount to anything. You should’ve heard the shit he was saying today. Fucking piece of shit!” 

“That’s why you were fighting?” You wring your hands together, a knot tying itself over and over in your stomach. “What did he say?”

Jordan stops pacing the room, goes still and turns away from you. 

“Well? What did he say? It was bad enough to make you two beat the shit out of each other! So what was it?” 

“He just… You don’t have to worry about it, okay? He won’t go near you again.” Jordan says firmly.

“Whatever he said he’s gonna keep saying. Just behind my back. I should know.”

Jordan sighs and moves to sit beside you on his couch, knee bouncing with anxiety. “He was… bragging to his shitty friends. About being the first guy on campus to fuck you. About how it didn’t even take that long and… how… he was thinking of recording you. So he could show them how slutty you are. It was…. fucking disgusting.” 

“Oh.” You say. 

You swallow around the lump in your throat. You’d done everything you could to avoid something like this happening. Had kept your dates off campus, to make sure he actually wanted to date you and not just the hot girl ranked Number 3. You’d spent nights staying up on the phone laughing and talking. You’d put off sleeping with Peter for a whole two months, even though you liked him, because you wanted to make sure he liked you. 

You hadn’t even let him call you his girlfriend until a few days ago. You thought he really liked you. But no matter how hard you try… you guess this is it. You’re just something pretty to look at. Even Vought doesn’t take you seriously, despite your powers. You’re the top ranked student in everything. Right behind Jordan. Forensic analysis. Combat. Battle strategy. Still, you only ever get asked about makeup routines and how to maintain your figure in interviews. 

You wipe at your burning eyes and try not to cry about something you’ve already accepted. 

“Fuck that guy. Fuck him. He’s so far beneath your level I’m surprised you can perceive his plane of fucking existence, okay? He’s a fucking single cell organism. He doesn’t even know what a brain is.” Jordan gets up from the couch to kneel in front of you, tries to look you in the eyes. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” 

“No, you fucking are not. Don’t say that about yourself. He’s fucking stupid. It’s genuinely insane you even wasted your time with him. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing anyone?” Jordan asks, voice quiet.

“I just…. I wanted to make sure he was actually gonna stick around before I even brought him up to you. You’re so … important, why tell you about someone who isn’t? It’s not like you write home to me about any of the people you mess around with! We’ve never really talked about this kind of stuff.” 

“Yeah, but it’s different. I’m not serious about anyone! You were actually dating, Peter. And I would have told you not to.” Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Well, I wanted to make sure it was serious. Before I even said anything.” 

“It wouldn’t have gotten serious if you’d told me about it in the first place. I wouldn’t have let Peter within ten feet of you!” 

“We’re talking in circles.” You huff in frustration, pressing your palms into your eyes to stop the stinging.

“Sorry, I just…. Fucking still wish I was beating the shit out of him, honestly.” Jordan says.

“You are not leaving this room for the rest of the day, Li. Even if he is Number 14, you can’t walk away from a fight then go back for seconds cause you didn’t get it all out the first time. That won’t hold up too well in court.”

“He heals too fast for there to be any marks left on him. It’ll all be hearsay.” Jordan smirks.  

You let out a weak laugh. Jordan reaches out, touching the corner of your lips. “Can we shoot for something a little bigger? If I don’t see you smile soon I’ll actually go kill him.” 

You roll your eyes and slide to the edge of the couch, so you’re resting your head on Jordan’s shoulder, leaning all your weight against him. He wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your spine.

“I really wanted it to work out, Jordan.” You mumble into the skin of his collarbone.

“With fucking Peter?” 

“With… anyone.” Your voice wavers and Jordan’s grip gets tighter. “It’s so fucking lonely. I just want to be someone’s favorite person. Not because of how I look, but because they like me. Really like me. And no one fucking does, no matter how hard I try.” The tears start falling now and Jordan pulls back and makes you look up at him, one hand on your cheek. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I fucking… I like you. I’ve always liked you.” Jordan says, frantic as he wipes away the tears as they come.

“It’s not the same, Jordan!” You shake your head, and bite your lip. You’d almost said it’s not enough. Because it isn’t. But you can't think about that for too long. It makes the hole in you ache a little worse. 

“Yeah….guess it’s not.” Jordan says quietly. He keeps wiping away the tears, dutiful and gentle as he goes. 

“You said he hit you first?” You ask, after a long moment of him quietly soothing you.

“Come on, I’m not stupid. Had to let him get the first swing in.” Jordan smirked.

“What did you say to make him hit you?” You ask.

“Told him he was lucky you believe in charity work and giving back to the fucking needy.” 

It’s enough to startle a laugh out of you. You smack his arm weakly before pulling him into another hug. He kisses the top of your head so softly you don’t notice it, too busy laughing. 

“Y/N, good to see you dear. You keeping our Jordan out of trouble?” Brink asks as he comes out of his office, not surprised to see you perched on Jordan’s desk. 

“Professor, we both know that I’m the one getting Jordan into trouble.” You flash the older man your most mischievous grin. 

“Ah, my apologies. I assume that means you’re distracting her from doing her work, as well?” Brink raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“Yes.” You say.

“No.” Jordan protests, at the same time. 

You throw your head back with a laugh. “It’s a goal I hold most dear to my heart, to distract Jordan from grading these papers. I think I’m succeeding wonderfully, you’ll be happy to know, Professor.” 

“She’s joking, Professor.” Jordan smacks your thigh and you glance down just in time to burn the image of her hand on your thigh into your brain. She almost never touches you, when she’s like this. 

“You know, Jordan, I didn’t happen to lose my sense of humor after I hit sixty.” Brink waves off Jordan’s concern and leans towards the two of you, whispering conspiratorially, “I know the gray hair gives the illusion of being a boring old fart, but I do like to laugh every now and then.”

Jordan shakes her head with a small laugh and you can’t help but watch, entranced, at the way her hair brushes the olive skin of her cheeks. When you look back towards Brink you find him already watching you, a knowing smile on his lips. You laugh nervously, and look down at the wood grain texture of Jordan’s desk. It’s suddenly fascinating. Is it real oak? Cherry?

“You close to being done, Jordan?” Brink asks casually. 

“Uh-” Jordan’s face blanches and you suddenly feel genuinely sorry for distracting her from her work. 

“-relax, kiddo. You’re not in trouble. Geez, what am I, a work nazi? Those papers don’t need to be graded for another four days, right? You work too hard. I was just asking cause’ I was getting a little hungry myself and wanted to know if you could use a break? There’s a great new Indian place nearby, apparently. Professor. Karp was telling me about it yesterday. It’s only a twenty minute ride away. Wanna tag along?” 

“I should probably finish up a few more papers-” 

“She would love to take a break, Professor.” You reach over, saving the work Jordan’s done and shutting down her laptop at lightning speed. 

“Brat.” Jordan mouths the word at you quickly, so Brink won’t see. 

You stick your tongue out at her, not caring if anyone sees. 

“You should come along too, Y/N. Been awhile since we last caught up.” Brink has a twinkle in his eye that you can’t quite place.

You slide off Jordan’s desk anyways, not willing to pass up any valuable Time Spent With Jordan, “I’m not sure if I trust Professor Karp’s recommendation on restaurants, but I’ll try and be very brave about it if the food is awful.”

“Jordan, have I ever told you how much I love this girl?” Professor Brink shrugs on his coat with a laugh. 

“Yeah.” Jordan watches Brink help you into your own coat with a small smile. “Yeah, Professor you have.” 

“Fucking fuck me!” Jordan throws her phone onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Are the parental units being emotional terrorists again?” You ask from your spot on her bed, turning the page of your textbook, mindlessly highlighting another sentence that could be important for the upcoming final. 

“No, it’s just the whole fucking roster is busy.” Jordan roughly runs a hand through her hair, disheveling her bob. 

“Huh?” You look up from your notes.

“The whole roster is locked in for finals but I really need to let off some fucking steam!” Jordan sighs.

“How big is the roster?” You try to sound curious, like a best friend would be, and not irritated, like someone in love with their best friend would be. 

“Too big for me to not be fucking someone right now.” Jordan snips. 

“We are studying right now. Or I’m studying, and you should be studying too, instead of thinking about needing to get your rocks off.” You say coolly, flipping to the next page. 

“I can’t fucking focus.” Jordan groans, but comes back over to the bed and flops down beside you, throwing her arm over her eyes. “What concept are we on now?” 

“Theories on limiting public and private property damage in fights with other Supes.”

“There is no fucking way I can focus on something that fucking boring without having an orgasm first.”Jordan groans, again, “It’s not even about limiting loss of human life or injury?”

“Nope. Property damage.” 

“Fuck me!” 

You both fall into silence. You studying. Jordan, you assume, weighing the pros and cons of downloading Tinder. The thought makes your stomach drop.

Then you get an idea. An awful, horrible, no good, rotten fucking idea. 

Your mouth is opening before you can stop yourself, “You could fuck me.”

“Huh?” You’ve never seen Jordan sit up so fast.

“I just mean- … we really gotta focus and I... I mean if you just need to let off some steam we could always…” You try your best to fumble your way into proper usage of the English language but even the thought of fucking Jordan makes that impossible. 

“Are you serious right now?” Jordan shifts halfway through the sentence, eyes glued to your every nervous, jittery movement as you sit in front of him.

“Wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t a real offer.” You say quietly, not looking up from the book. 

Jordan snatches said book from your lap and tosses it away, ignoring your noise of protest. “You don’t think it’d make things weird?” 

“Weird was when I had to take you to get your wisdom teeth removed and you kept saying the green man was gonna get us while you were still high off the good stuff. Sex is just sex, right?” You try to say it casually. 

“Would… would it be a one time thing?” Jordan asks slowly.  

“It could be more… we could be-” You say, equally as slow. 

“- could be?” Jordan echoes, voice sounding oddly tight and expression carefully blank.

The look is so strange it makes you panic, and if you’d thought of saying something stupid and desperate for one second like ‘a couple’, well, that look on his face is more than enough to send you straight back to reality on the ‘my-life-fucking-sucks’ express in no time flat.

“We could be like friends with benefits!” You blurt out in one breath. 

“Oh.” Jordan says. 

“It was just an idea.” You reach for the textbook again, which landed near Jordan’s thigh. You’re careful not to touch him when you grab it, or sound too disappointed, or heartbroken at the completely lackluster reaction Jordan has to the thought of having sex with you. “A stupid idea, forget it.”

“Why’s it stupid?” Jordan’s brow furrows, tone teetering on the edge of defensive. 

“I mean…” You can’t think of a reason fast enough. “We’re probably sexually incompatible.” 

“Why do you assume that?” Jordan goes from staring at you, to glaring at you. 

You’ve always hated how once Jordan latches on to a line of questioning, you can’t get them to drop that interrogation for shit. A dog with a bone has nothing on a Jordan who wants an answer.

“I don’t… know?” You say, but it sounds like a question. 

“I think we’d be compatible.” Jordan states this like he’d state the sky is blue or water is wet. 

“Have you thought about it before?” You ask, bewildered. 

“What, are you into something really kinky?” Jordan answers your previous question not at all.

“No!” There goes that nervous body language of yours again. 

“Only way to really know if we’re sexually compatible is to actually try it out.” Suddenly, Jordan is within your personal space bubble. 

You don’t really know how to react, your body freezes up on instinct. Jordan’s hand comes up to rub soothing circles into the crook of your elbow. Your shoulders fall away from your ears.

“Can I kiss you?” Jordan’s voice is quiet, soft as he tilts his head to knock his nose against yours. Playful, teasing. But the look on his face is something you can’t place at all. 

You feel his breath on your lips and nod absentmindedly. 

“Don’t want you to nod when I ask you a question like this. Yes or no, Y/N?” 

“Ye-” The words not fully out of your mouth before Jordan is kissing you, a heavy hand pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. 

You pull yourself into Jordan’s lap and try to focus on how good it feels when he nips at your bottom lip, instead of how much you wished you’d asked him to be your boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. Everything. Even if he’d said no, at least then you would have had an answer. Now you’ve only made your life harder. 

You stop thinking so much when Jordan puts a hand on your hip and guides you to grind yourself against him. 

“Y/N’s right.” Jordan mutters, not looking up from his phone. 

“No, she is not. You’re just agreeing with her because that’s your default factory setting. Listen to the context of the argument please.” Andre snaps, drowning his Vought Triple meat burger in ketchup.

“I did. Your grim dark theory on children’s media is lame, and Y/N knows more about the Monster’s Inc universe than you ever will.” Jordan shrugs.

“Hah!” You laugh in Andre’s face.

“Is it really such a flex to be an expert on the lore of a Pixar movie universe?” Cate asks teasingly. 

“Yes.” You say. 

“No.” Andre says, like a sore loser.  

“I agree with Y/N, it’s literally in the explicit text of the movie, Monsters Inc isn’t a post-apocalyptic world. It’s a separate dimension from ours. The monsters come to our dimension to harvest screams of children to get clean, scream energy. God, Andre, pay attention during movie night.” Luke jumps in on the tormenting Andre train, grinning wildly at the other man from across the table. He gets a middle finger for his troubles. 

“I’m glad someone pays attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You sniff haughtily. 

“I literally agreed with you first.” Jordan looks at you from over the top of her phone in a way that makes you blush. 

“I’m glad two people are paying attention to the intricate lore of the greatest movie of all time.” You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” Jordan’s intense brown eyes fall away from you and you take a gulp of your drink. 

“Bathroom alert, Y/N. A stall just opened up.” Cate tells you pointing to the bathroom door right as another girl exits. 

“I am kissing you on the lips, telepathically.” You say, sliding from the booth you’re all sharing.

“Don’t you telepathically lip lock with my girlfriend.” Luke calls after you, laughing.

“Get some powers of telepathy yourself and make me, fire boy.” You enter the bathroom, shutting out the sounds of laughter from your table with a smile. 

You take the biggest stall at the back and try to go about your business quickly. You hear two faucets turn on, someone washing their hands, and try not to get pee shy. 

“So how was it?” A monotone voice asks, you assume one of the hand washers.

“You know I don’t usually kiss and tell, but it was insane.” A higher, more giggly voice answers. 

“So they really are good in bed then, huh?” The monotone voice sounds a little more curious. 

“Incredible. All the rumors are true. They’re a little… uh, brusque, about the after sex part, if I’m putting it lightly, but the sex itself was great!” The high voice chirps. 

“What? Did they throw you a towel and tell you to kick rocks?” The monotone voice asks. 

“Pretty much.” The high voice sighs. “But they made me cum so many times I think I’d still pick up if they called me again. You think they might?” 

“I say this with all the love in the world: girl stand up.” Monotone voice drawls. 

“You wouldn’t be telling me that if you knew how good it felt to sit on her face.” High voice says.

You stifle a laugh, trying not to get caught eavesdropping, but with Supe hearing it really is hard to mind your own business. Besides, they’re not being that quiet about the conversation anyways. 

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Or you could experience it for yourself. They were just as good as a boy as they were as a girl. Maybe better. I dunno. She was more aggressive as a girl, which was kinda hot.” 

“Jordan Li, pussy eating extraordinaire. Can we go now? Our food is probably ready.” Monotone voice sighs. 

“Fine, but I’m telling you, the things they can do with a strap are-” 

The voices fade away with the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. 

You find you don’t really want to finish eating your food, when you get back to the table. You spend the rest of lunch trying your best not to look at Jordan, and also ignoring Cate’s concerned gaze boring into the side of your skull. 

You pretend to be sick to avoid having to face the reality of Jordan being more than happy to touch other girls as a girl. They just don’t want to touch you when they’re a girl. You wonder what about you is so uniquely off putting. You wonder why it can’t be you. Why can’t it ever fucking be you? 

Jordan barges into your room on day three of the silent treatment that you told the group chat was due to a raging fever. 

Luckily your eyes, swollen shut from all the crying, and the red nose to match, corroborate the story. 

“We got it all. We’ve got tissues. We got soup. We got pain meds. We got liquid meds. We also have all the ingredients for a hot toddy, if you want to mix your poisons a little.” Jordan begins to unpack everything onto your counter. 

“I don’t want to take anything.” You say morosely, and a little mean, kind of wanting to hate them but just feeling sad. Jordan’s your best friend before anything else, and you could never hate your first real friend. 

“Come on, just a little something. You sound fucked up.” Jordan practically coos, touching your forehead. “Feels like your fever’s gone down a little. Sit up for me.” He says, and pulls you to sit up when you don’t do it on your own.  

“I don’t want to fucking-” Jordan puts two pills in your mouth as soon as you open it to bitch at him. He hands you water to help you swallow it down. 

“Thanks for that. That was really fun for me.” You snap once you’re done.

“It’s for pain and should bring down the rest of your fever.” Jordan lays you back down, tucking the covers all the way up to your chin. You marvel at the way he doesn’t rise to the bait of your very clear attitude. Jordan, catching the look on your face offers you a small glare. “I’m worried. You usually don’t get sick. I’ll check that attitude when you’re better. Now, do you want the damn hot toddy or not?” He rubs your head soothingly.

“Yes, please.” You try not to pout as you watch Jordan make the drink for you. You really hate how hard it is to hate them. “Sorry, Jordie.” 

“Oh, you can go ahead and save that apology for when I make you cry into your pillow, yeah?” Jordan doesn’t even look up from measuring the ingredients.

You pull the covers over your head and leave them there until Jordan pulls them back down. 

You almost hadn’t come to the party. 

You weren’t in a partying mood, as of late. You were in more of a Shakespearean pining era than a City Girls one. But the group had bullied you in the group chat for a week straight until you’d promised to come. The group bullying hadn’t worked so much as Jordan asking you one single time to go had.

So here you were. 

You’d been nursing one drink for the better part of an hour and hadn’t done a single line of cocaine. Jordan had offered you some, but the line had already been placed on the back of his hand. You politely declined, much to his confusion. You only ever did hard drugs with Jordan, and only at big rager parties like this one. 

At the moment you’re nearly sober. Because you didn’t so much as want to touch Jordan right now. Let alone do something like snort a line off of him. Then you’d have to do something like lick the residue off his skin. Which would lead to kissing him. Which would lead to making out with him. Which would lead to fucking him. 

And you think, for the sake of your sanity, you need to be done fucking Jordan Li. 

It’s been about three weeks since you were “sick” and you’d dodged every attempt at getting physical that Jordan tried to initiate since. At first you were able to pass it off as still feeling icky. That excuse worked for a week. Now, you didn’t hang out alone with them and pretended not to see Jordan’s ‘you up?’ texts until morning. 

Your friendship just needs a hard reset. This time spent not having sex will do it. 

Besides, it’s not like Jordan isn’t swimming in fucking choices. What does it matter if you’re one less body off the menu? There are plenty of hot girls at this school. Jordan’s probably already fucked half of them.

You throw back the rest of the drink you’ve been nursing all at once.

“Are you okay?” Cate puts a hand on your arm and you offer her a blinding, completely fake smile. 

“Yeah!” You say, as chipper as possible.

“Jesus christ.” Cate replies, face going all sad and concerned. “What did Jordan do?” 

“Huh?” You blink, confused.

“You are the most pissed off I’ve ever seen you. What did Jordan do? You’ve been avoiding them for like two weeks. What gives?” Cate pulls you closer by the arm so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. 

“Nothing!” 

“Can you try to lie again but do it better, this time?” Cate frowns.

“Jesus Christ, does everything have to be about Jordan? Must my whole entire goddamn life revolve around Jordan Li?” You snap, the way someone who isn’t mad about anything does.  

“Okay.” Cate says slowly. Like she’s trying to placate a wild animal. 

The tone alone makes you roll your eyes and move to disappear back in the crowd of drunk twenty-somethings. But she firms her grip on you, the leather of her glove digging into your skin. 

“Y/N-”

“I’m fine, Cate. I just have to get over it.” 

“Get over what?” Cate narrows her eyes at you. That shrewd look she sometimes wears when she knows something before someone else falls onto her face. 

You wonder if you’re completely transparent about your pining or if Cate missed a dose of her medication. Is she starting to hear the buzzing of your frantic, angry, miserable thoughts? Or is she just naturally perceptive? 

“So, this is where the real party is hiding!” An arm is thrown around your shoulders suddenly and you are careful not to sigh, because Jordan may not be as perceptive as Cate, but they’re pretty damn close. Especially when it comes to you. 

You’ve never moved away from them holding you close like this before, so you can’t do it now. You try to just be still. Don’t lean into his warmth, but don’t cringe away either. You probably used to melt against him, when he touched you. Pathetically. Desperately. A sunflower following rays of light across the sky. 

“-Princess?” Jordan gives you a gentle shake and your head snaps to the side to look at him. “You okay?”

“Yup!” Apparently, you didn’t say that convincingly because he starts to scowl at you. Surprisingly enough, the thought of withstanding a Jordan interrogation does not make you want to be at this party for much longer. “I’m gonna head out, though.” 

“What?!” Twin exclamations of confusion form Jordan and Cate both.

“Not feeling it. I think I need to get some more sleep. I got a headache, or… something.” You shrug.

“Or something?” Jordan echoes.

“You are not going anywhere, yet, dear friend.” Andre throws his own arm around you, appearing from thin air, and tugging you away from Jordan. You’ve never been more grateful to him. 

“How do you figure that?” You laugh.

“We’re about to play truth or dare in the other room and you dodged playing last time. You can leave after you’ve played. You can’t get known as the truth or dare dodger.” Andre says. 

“You say that as if being a party game dodger is like being known for dodging the Vietnam draft.” You snort.

“No, it’s worse. People that dodged the Vietnam drafts are heroes. Truth or dare dodgers are cowards. Come on.” Andre begins to drag you towards the other room and you go along with minimal dragging of your feet across the floor. 

The room is crowded, but all the faces are familiar. They’re all within the top twenty, or the groupies that hang around everyone in the top twenty. You pull Andre across the room to a spot on a raggedy couch you have to squeeze the both of you into. No room for Jordan, who you want to avoid. Or Cate, who is too fucking perceptive. 

You wish you’d grabbed another drink for yourself. Jordan winds up across the room from you, in an optimal position for trying to catch your eye and give you a concerned look every ten seconds. 

This does not make Truth or Dare more fun to watch. 

Vulgar dare from one classmate to another. Forcing someone else to admit an uncomfortable truth. One humiliation after the other. Pick your poison on whether you want to debase yourself through the damnation of your own words or a physical act. All challenges of self-mortification being doled out by people who secretly don’t like each other very much, but all call each other friends anyways. 

“Earth to Y/N the space cadet.” The girl sitting next to you gives you a playful shove. You try not to glare at her. Her name escapes you. You think she hangs around with number 6. Or something. 

“What?”

“Cate picked you. Truth or dare.” She says the words ominously, causing teasing jeering to rise from the entire group. 

“Well, Y/N, what’s it gonna be?” Cate raises her eyebrow at you challengingly. 

“She doesn’t have to play if she doesn’t want to, guys.” Jordan rolls his eyes.

“Dare.” You say, wanting to get this over with. 

The room erupts into excited noise. You don’t know why. Cate, of all people, would never force you to do anything humiliating. Or truly scandalous. It’s why you trust her enough to say dare, instead of truth. But you never pick dare, because anyone else would abuse the power. Everyone looks too eager to see Number 3 do something embarrassing. 

As if Cate isn’t your closest friend beside Jordan. As if she’d abuse the trust you place in her. It makes you sick. You don’t wanna be here. At this party, or at this stupid fucking school.

“I dare you…. to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 

“What?!” Jordan turns to give Cate the nastiest, most disgusted glare you’ve ever seen.

“She doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to. You know I’m all about consent.” Cate shrugs innocently, crossing her legs together and giving you a smirk. 

You sit for a second, contemplating your next move. There are plenty of pretty girls at this party. In this room. If nothing else, the top twenty and their groupies are photogenic (hell, some of them are only in the top twenty because of their looks to begin with. You hope you’re not one of those.) But there’s only one girl you want to kiss at this party. 

There’s only one person in the world you want to kiss at all. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling like the walls are closing in. Andre nudges you subtly, catches your eye, as if to say: ‘you okay?’ but there’s something else in the look too. Something that says it’s not just Cate, who knows. Probably your whole friend group knows how you feel. Probably the whole school. Probably anyone but Jordan sees it. And Jordan probably does see it, because they’re too fucking smart not to, and they’re choosing to ignore it. Because it’s easier that way. Because your feelings are probably too inconvenient. Because you’re not their type. Because you’re clingy, and stupid, and not good enough- 

You stand up. The room is a wall of noise, and smell and sound pressing in on you. You see Cate smirk. You see Jordan looking away. You see every girl in the room sit up straight. Delusional, if they think any of them could ever be anything, compared to Jordan. 

You walk past every other girl in the room, and stand in front of Jordan, who still isn’t looking.

You kick his ankle with the toe of your heel, to get him to look at you. His head snaps around, the curls of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he looks comically confused. And it’s really too fucking much, for someone as smart as Jordan to look so confused. So fucking baffled, about what’s happening here. But it’s a pretty convincing act. That only makes you more angry. 

You make an impatient motion with your hand. A ‘do it already’ movement of your wrist. The same way you’d crossly signal for another driver to go first at a fucking four way stop. 

He just blinks up at you, owlish. 

"Well? Are you gonna let me kiss the prettiest girl at this fucking school or what, Li?" The room has gone a little quiet, or maybe the blood is rushing in your ears so bad everything is quiet in comparison. 

Jordan stares up at you for a moment longer than is comfortable. And you really start to feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You don’t let yourself shy away from the attention. Not Jordan’s, not anyone else’s. You straighten your spine and look down your nose at him, and tap your foot. Try to look like the mean girl everyone expects you to be because no one cares who you actually are. 

As if you could care less if Jordan leaves you stranded right now. As if it will be their loss, if they don’t kiss you, instead of the worst moment of your entire life. 

Jordan shifts. 

You try not to think of how desperate you must look, when you reach out at a speed that isn’t human to hold her face and angle it up, so you can finally fucking kiss the girl you love. 

You wish you could kiss her like it didn’t mean anything. Like she’s nothing. Like you hate her. But you don’t know if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Jordan when she’s your girl, and not your boy. This might be the last time you kiss Jordan ever. 

It has to be. 

You close your eyes tight. Try to ignore the way they’re stinging. You kiss Jordan slow and tender. The way you’ve always wanted to. You tangle a hand in her hair, to bring her closer. You try not to marvel at the way the longer strands tangle in your fingertips. She gasps against you, and her hands find your waist and you are too sober to cry over Jordan touching your waist above your clothes. Like a fucking middle-schooler. 

But the tears start falling anyways. You let out a quiet sob against her lips that you try your hardest to stifle, and Jordan may not have kissed you like this before. But she’s kissed you plenty. She pulls back, startled, like an animal. Big brown eyes full of concern. 

And the spell is broken, and you are standing in front of about thirty of the world’s worst, most unsympathetic human beings, crying, because you kissed your best friend who doesn’t want you back. 

You’ve got ten seconds to leave before someone pulls out their phone and records you. If they haven’t already started. 

So you run.

Through your tears the layout of the house becomes unfamiliar. You try to hide your face a little, and hope people don’t recognize you as you pass them by, sobbing openly. 

Years of pent up feelings are bubbling out of you. The relief. The grief. The way you hate yourself for falling in love with the only person who has ever loved you. Wondering why you couldn’t just be grateful for the kindest, most understanding friendship you never even thought yourself worthy of. Why couldn’t that have been enough? 

Why did you fall in love with them? 

A hand closes around your wrist and you try to yank yourself away but you’re pulled into a bathroom and the door slams shut behind you. 

You wipe your eyes so you can see who’s tried to save you from embarrassing yourself any further. 

It’s Jordan. Because of course it is.

You burst into tears again. 

“Are you fucking drunk? What the fuck was that? Y/N what the fuck is happening right now?” Jordan sounds on the verge of a mental break. 

She’s probably wondering what type of things people are gonna start saying about the two of you on social media. She’s probably mad at you for giving her a PR mess to clean up. 

“I’m not drunk!” You protest, sounding a little like someone who might be drunk. 

“Are you high? What did you take? Lemme see your pupils.” Jordan reaches out to grab your face and you swat her hand away. 

“No one fucking drugged me, Jordan. I’m just a stupid fucking idiot who’s in love with you! There! Are you happy?! Why don’t you go laugh at me with one of your stupid fucking girlfriends. You’ve got so fucking many of them.” You wail, sinking down to the floor, and hiding your face in your arms. 

The room goes quiet, besides the sound of you crying. Loudly. You think you might be having an anxiety attack. You can’t breathe right. But maybe that’s just from the heaving, toddler-like sobs. 

“You’re in love with me?” Jordan asks, quietly. 

“As if you don’t know!” You snap your head up to glare at her. She kneels down in front of you, and puts her hand on your knee and you try not to get distracted by how pretty she is. “I follow you around like a puppy dog. Like your little shadow. And everyone notices except for you, because you don’t want to notice, because you don’t fucking want me. I got the message, Jordan. I got it!” 

“What message?!” Jordan grabs you by the shoulders, voice fraying at the edges, and looks like she wants to shake you.

“You don’t touch me!” Your voice raises to the edge of a yell, and the sound of it echoes in the small room. 

“What are you fucking talking about-”

“-don’t be cute, Jordan. You don’t touch me when you’re a girl! I thought… I thought it was maybe just that you didn’t touch girls when you’re a girl but it isn’t. Apparently you have plenty of fucking girls that you touch and fuck, when you’re a girl. It’s just me, that you don’t! What’s so fucking bad about me? Huh? What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” You demand.

You think you might sound like an insane person, and you wish you could pull the words back in but the hurt is bubbling out. A river relishing that first burst of freedom when a dam breaks, no matter how much damage it causes. 

Jordan is staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Mouth agape. You wish you were dead, a little.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Jordie.” Your voice goes small, and you sniffle. “I really tried to stop. But I can’t, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from that very first day. Because you’re wonderful, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how anyone…” You trail off, fanning at your eyes to try and pull yourself together. “...I don’t know how everyone else knows you without being in love with you. I wish I wasn’t in love with you, please don’t be mad, please don’t fucking-” You sob, again. 

You find yourself pulled into Jordan’s lap this time. It’s a foreign feeling, to be touching so much of Jordan when she’s like this. You bury your face into her neck and cry, and let her black hair block out the fluorescent lighting. She shushes you, cheek pressing against the side of your head, and that’s familiar. The way she soothes you. Your hands wrinkle the fabric of her jacket, clinging to her tightly. 

“I’m sorry. I can get over it, I promise. I just needed to tell you. I’ve never kept anything from you before. It was killing me, but I can get over it, Jordie, I promise-” 

“Hey, hey, hey, no-” Jordan’s turning you to look at her suddenly. “Don’t fucking… I’m not… I’m not mad at you or fucking… gonna leave you, Y/N. What the fuck? I love you.”

You could start crying from the relief of hearing those words come from her lips again. You thought she wouldn’t ever speak to you again. She grabs you by the chin and kisses you, hard, your teeth clink together and your noses mush and you go completely still and frozen, like a scared deer. 

“I could see the words not fucking register in your brain the way I meant them. I am in love with you. Romantically.” Jordan barely pulls away, you feel her lips brush against yours, every other word. 

“What?” 

Jordan laughs, “Good, now you’re just as confused as I fucking was. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want you? I’ve always wanted you. You’re…you.” 

“I’m me?” You echo. 

“I didn’t…. I didn’t want to make you feel… like everyone else has. Like I was just fucking waiting around for a chance to date you. Or fuck you. As if your friendship doesn’t fucking matter. Or was a consolation prize, if I couldn’t get you to date me. It isn’t a consolation prize. It’s the most important thing to me in the fucking world.” Jordan laughs, and the sound is suspiciously choked up. 

“Oh.” You say, and are crying. Again. Jordan laughs and wipes the tears away with her thumb. 

“But what about when we started having sex? You still… never touched me when you’re like this.” 

“You’ve never said anything about liking girls.” Jordan says quietly.

“You’re not just a girl. You’re the girl. And guy. ” You say, holding her hand against your face and kissing her palm fiercely. She laughs again, and puts her forehead against yours. 

“So what? I’m the one girl you’re into?” Jordan raises a brow and doesn’t look very happy saying the words, oddly enough. 

You tilt your head trying to puzzle out why, slowly, you arrive at a conclusion. “I literally talk about girls all the time.” 

“When?!” 

“I’m constantly pointing out pretty ones!” You snap. 

“I thought you were just being sweet!” Jordan snaps back. 

You close your eyes and breathe in the smell of her cologne. 

“You make me so angry I don’t know how to think.” You say, and kiss her bottom lip softly. “You’re not an… experiment, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re the…” You trail off, realizing this is not one of your romantic daydreams where you’ve thought of the words you’d tell Jordan over and over again. 

In real life you can’t tell people that they’re the love of your life if you aren’t their girlfriend. Unless you want to look crazy.

Jordan, who is your best friend, before she’s anything else, melts. Because she knows you well enough to know what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah.” Jordan nods, sniffling once and trying to look very tough even though her lip is quivering a little. “I… I love you too. Or whatever.” 

“If it makes you feel better I’ve slept with other women before, to make sure I wasn’t just in love with you.” 

“Weird fucking thing to tell me after I say I love you, but go off.” She glares at you. 

“I think you could do with feeling a little jealous. Why am I hearing stories about how good you are at fucking other women while I’m trying to piss at Vought Burger in peace?” 

“What?” Jordan’s brow furrows. 

“Three weeks ago I heard-”

“-I fucking knew you’ve been mad at me!” Jordan grabs your waist, pulling you closer.

“You would have been pissed too, if you heard the shit I was hearing!” 

“If I hear anyone talking about fucking you ever again I’m going to go to prison.”

“Hot.” 

“Shut up and be my girlfriend.”

“Shut up and be my everything.” 

“You’re gross.” But she kisses you, and it’s gentle, and no one else is there to see it. 

And it’s perfect.

A/N: this is my first time doing full on smut for a fic! it beat me the fuck up. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. and this fic took too damn long to write. xoxoxo

[titan-senpai]

What the hell??

A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly..

Part 2

I woke up on the cold streets in the middle of nowhere.. " Where am i.." Holding my head trying to stand up, taking a look around, seeing creatures everywhere. " What the.." I blinked a few times not believing my eyes. I turned my head and saw a shop with mirrors and took a look at my reflection.

shocked to see my own reflection.. White with red marks on my body.. then i turned around and asked a girl "Little girl can you tell me where i am?" The little girl just laughed. " You're new around here?" She took a drink of her milkshake. I just nodded.

" Wel.. Welcome to hell! " She laughed walking away from me " Goodluck newbie" I stood there in shock.

How did I end up here? Wat.. it was that bastard.. looking at my red spots indicating wounds. It's all his fault...I felt my knees get weak as I fell down on them next to the shop.

I don't know How many hours have passed by but out of nowhere a girl walked by me taking an interest in me. "let me guess.. your new?" She said chewing her gum looking at her phone.. she's probably addicted. I nodded.

" You've got good bone structure and a taste in fashion.." She cupped my face looking at it.. " You wanna work for me?" she let go letting me stand up. I took a look at her clothing and thought it must be an influencer or something.

" Whatcha say dear... I need a yes or no." She said firmly and I nodded without saying anything. "Follow me." As she walked away I followed her.

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Walking into a building called VoxTech? Following her into the elevator as she presses the highest button and scans the card. "Names Velvette.." She checked her phone again, typing away.

"My name is Y/N." I fidgeted my hands anxiously. The elevator door opens revealing a room filled with Photos of her and 2 other guys.

"VOX VAL! get your asses here" She yelled into her phone. Dramatic much.

Seeing a spark out of a tv turn into a guy with a tv head while the other was nowhere to be found. "VAL NO JOKES!" She yelled as smoke entered the room. Turning into a man with 4 arms.

" This is the girl i was talking about.. take a look at her" she walked off sitting on the couch nearby checking her phone.

" And what do we have here.." taking a look at me while he checks me out breathing smoke into my shoulders feeling his breath giving me shivers, "your a pretty one aren't you.." feeling his breath closer to me M" Doll..." walking to his desk. "And what is your talent?" The TV headed guy asked me. "i.." Speechless as I left a shaky breath shivering.

"No time for chit chat.. I'll figure her talent out, follow me me newbie" velvette said walking to the room, opening the door revealing a whole wardrobe " FIrst let's get you dressed.. Cant have them see you with us wearing normie clothes can we.." She smirked, pushing me in the room. " Pick one.. I'll be outside." I looked at the clothes, feeling fine silky clothes. None of them caught my interest.

Looking in the mirror at the end of the room touching my clothes that I currently have on. Imagining the clothes i used to wear. and suddenly my hands start to glow. and they started to make the clothes i was thinking off. and soon I was holding them.

20 Minutes passed and I heard a knock " R you done yet dear.." I opened the door walking out in baggy jeans with a Crop top with a window revealing my cleavage a bit and a Jacket with fur. White boots to match the white bag.

" You look fabulous dear.. Where did you get these? I don't have these in my small closet.." I finally let go of her phone pointing at my clothes.

" I think i figured out my talent.." showing her my hands. " Welcome to the Vees my dear.." 

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[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.

"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."

"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.

Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?

Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.

So for once, you could breathe easy..

Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.

He must get a kick out of watching you perish.

"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"

"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"

"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."

Silence.

"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."

"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"

"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."

"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.

But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.

"Is the document for sale?"

"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."

You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.

Sebastian's Document

Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?

For some reason, it made you frown a little.

"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.

"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"

"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"

For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"

"It's more of a courtesy to you."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"

".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"

"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."

With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-

"Hey."

You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.

"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."

Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."

"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.

What you did was certainly a nice gesture.

He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.