#if i start crying hysterically - MIND YOUR BUSINESS

[isabela-merceds]

i need to go into town to pick up a christmas present and i honestly would rather throw myself off a building

[vcrnons]

so. i just nearly died.

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[nanaslutt]

The wrong place at the wrong time

snopsis: you walk in on a particularly interesting facetime between gojo and geto in which gojo tries to convince geto that the prostate is magical thing, but he needs your help in convincing him

contains: fem reader, sub!gojo, geto is on the phone while you and gojo fool around, dirty talk, prostate milking, anal fingering, hand job, masturbation, bisexual satosugu

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

..."You what?" You stopped in your tracks in the hallway in front of Gojo's bedroom, staring incredulously at the white-haired man lying on his back, one knee propped up, his arm outstretched above him, Geto's face filling up the phone screen. "Oh? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" Gojo asked, covering his mouth as he snickered behind his hand.

"Your door is wide open and you practically just screamed at the top of your lungs that you've fingered yourself before, was I not supposed to hear that?" You asked, your face scrunching at your own words as if you couldn't even believe what you were saying.

"I don't care if you hear~" Gojo cooed, his hand dropping back down to his chest. "Is it really that surprising?" Geto's voice chimed in through the speaker on Gojo's phone. "What's that mean?" Gojo chipped, turning his neck to pout at the dark-haired man, his soft hair falling graciously against the sheets around his head.

"I think he means you're shameless, Satoru." You said, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning against his doorframe. Gojo smirked, unable to deny your words. "You always have been one to talk brazenly about your endeavors in bed... like you were just doing." Geto agreed, his deep voice coming out smooth and sultry through the phone.

"Well, you asked if I had any ways to spice up your alone time... since you're too scared to go find a hookup~" Gojo outted the man, resulting in a tsk from the speaker. You shouldn't be standing in the doorway still, but this conversation was too intriguing to walk away from.

"I didn't mean fingering my ass, save that for the people who really love it. Like you, apparently." Geto deadpanned. Gojo sat up in his bed, his hand placed behind him as he held his phone out in front of him, pouting at his best friend. "It really does feel good, I'm telling you It'll change your life~" Gojo cooed, raising his eyebrows at the dark-haired man.

"I bet my roomie can attest too, I hear you whimper through these thin walls late at night when you think I'm asleep," Gojo revealed, turning his head to look at you. Your jaw dropped, words failing to find your tongue as you stared at him dumbfounded. Yeah, you absolutely should've minded your business.

"W-what the fuck?" You stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up at Gojo's unexpected words. You heard Geto laugh through the phone, followed by a quiet "Does she really~?"

"Since when was this conversation about me now?" You said, your face scrunching in displeasure as embarrassment flooded your body. How was all of the attention suddenly on you? "It's okay, everyone gets horny, so no need to feel all shy about it~ You sound really cute anyways, you have nothing to worry about."

A loud groan fell from your lips, your hands uncrossing to cover your face, your displeased noises becoming muffled from how hard you pressed your hands to your face. Geto's laughter became hysterical at your dismay. You felt a headache start to come on.

"Heh~ further proves my point though, fingering yourself feels good Suguru~ I don't want you to come crying to me when you're 80, complaining about how you wish you would've tried it when you were in your prime," Gojo said, raising his chin smugly.

"With your eating habits, you'll be lucky if you break 60." Geto quipped, "Anyways, I wouldn't even know where to start." He confessed, Geto's voice coming through softer, honest. A sinister smile formed on Gojo's face as Geto's words reached his ears, an idea popping into his head. His eyes falling on you made your body tense where you stood, wondering why he was looking at you again. You thought you had successfully escaped being the center of attention.

"Wanna help me show Geto how good your prostate can feel?"

The words fell from your roommate's lips as nonchalantly as he had just asked what you wanted for dinner. You kept your hands over your face, your fingers cracked over your eyes so you could see him. You felt a blossom spread in your tummy at his proposition, what did that even mean? How would you have any involvement in this? You didn't even have a prostate.

You felt your heart rate pick up, the organ beating faster in your chest as you stood underneath his awaiting gaze, trying to wrack your brain for the right words to say. Your eyes darted around the room as you tried to escape his eyes long enough to think of a reasonable reply.

You and Gojo have lived together for 2 years now. The two of you practically joined at the hip, courtesy of Gojo who had no concept of personal space and hated being alone. Gojo liked to refer to your personal space as 'our personal space' you had grown used to it.

The childish man could be obnoxious and crass sometimes, but he also had a strange sort of charm to him. He was very observant of your needs, and somehow always knew what you were thinking. Not to mention he was undoubtedly easy on the eyes, no matter how annoying he was--and you would be lying if you said a few of those nights you spent alone in your room with just your fingers to keep you company that Gojo had referred to; hadn't featured said man in your fantasies as you fucked yourself.

After going over these facts and losing yourself in your own mind as you did so, you decided on what you were going to say back to Gojo. Snapping back to reality by dropping your hands to your sides and making unsure eye contact with Gojo, you spoke. "H-how would I help?" You didn't realize that those very words had sealed your fate.

—

"D-deeper cmon~ touchin' me like you're scared I'm gonna break or something." Satoru teased, wiggling his ass back into you. You felt your face heat up at his words. Well sorry... I've never exactly fingered someone's ass before, excuse me if I'm a little tentative... you shot back in your head, opting to just bite your lip and take his jab in the world outside of your head.

Gejo had placed his phone on his five-foot tripod on the side of the bed, giving Geto a perfect view of Gojo who was laid face down ass up, with you sitting on your knees behind him, a bottle of lube by your thigh, the cap was still undone in case you needed more. Your finger was about halfway into Gojo's ass, slowly and shallowly pumping into him. He was right, you were afraid he was going to break, afraid that if you moved too suddenly, you would hurt him.

The camera was angled near the end of the bed so Geto could also see Gojo's hungry little hole swallow up your fingers, making him palm his large hand over his cock at the sight of it pulsing around you. "You listening Suguru?" Gojo breathed, his head lying against the sheets, and turned to the side so he could see Geto staring at him, and a little sliver of your blurry, shy face.

"Oh, I'm listening," Geto responded, squeezing his hand over his tip as he spoke. He didnt want Gojo to know how much this was affecting him; watching his best friend get fingered by his cute roomie; so he kept his camera on his face for now, keeping the minstrations on himself to himself.

"G-good... you better take it all in for when you try this later~" Gojo cooed, confident that Geto would actually try this. Geto nodded, jerking his hand over his clothed cock harder as he pretended to listen to his words. A choked moan from you brought the attention you detested so much to be centered on you once more. "You okay there?" Geto's voice chirped teasingly through the phone, his eyes taking in your flustered face.

"It's... It's in." You whispered, your words barely being loud enough to be heard through the phone. "Your finger?" Geto asked you, keeping his voice and face monotone as he slid his hand underneath the band of his sweats, his growing arousal needing more than over-the-clothes touching to be satiated.

You nodded, a deep blush spreading across your face as you relished the feeling. Gojo was so tight around you, even tighter than your cunt felt when you touched yourself. "Yeah, I can feel it too, so stop teasing me and move it already~" Gojo groaned, pushing his hips back against your finger, slick from the abundance of lube you used.

You swallowed hard watching Gojo fuck his hips back against you, the motion only resulting in your finger jolting around slightly, not enough to give him any real stimulation. "O-okay." You mumbled quietly, before you pulled your finger out, and screwed it back in. Gojo breathed out through his mouth, relieved you were finally moving.

"How's it feel?" Geto chimed in, his hand now tentatively stroking over his cock, his sweats and boxers alike pulled halfway down his thighs. Gojo grumbled, pouting dramatically against the sheets before he spoke, trying to angle his head to look at you the best he could from his current position. "Feels like I have a finger in my ass," Gojo replied with a short giggle.

Geto hummed in response, tilting his head at his companion through the phone. "Though you were gonna show me how good your prostate feels?" Geto teased, slowing his strokes over his cock as he waited for the real action to happen, not wanting to blow his load too soon. "I would if my cute roomie started listening to me~" Gojo cooed, disguising his jab at you in his teasing words.

You knew he was immediately referring to how gently you were being. Curse you for being curdious of his most sacred place in all of his body. "Fine, you want it harder? Don't come crying to me if you get hurt." You said with a sigh, shaking your head. You placed your free hand on his ass, giving yourself some leverage before you started fingering him properly.

"Yeahhh~ Cmon, give it to me~" Gojo cooed, that annoyingly cocky tone laced throughout his voice. His unaffectedness to having your finger in his asshole made you want to wipe that smirk off his face and replace it with a more desperate look. You tried to be nice, but clearly, that wasn't what he wanted.

Geto watched you carefully as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, readjusting yourself on your knees closer to Gojo before you pulled your finger out of his hole and grabbed the lube, spreading it across two fingers this time. "Hey, I said give it to me not pull out complete- ahh!" Gojo's complaint was short-lived when you thrust both of your fingers in his ass to the hilt all at once.

Gojo gasped against the sheets like the wind had just been punched from his lungs, his eyes wide as he stared at the wall in shock. "You're so impatient Satoru." You shot back, starting up a decent pace on his ass, your fingers colliding against him causing the fat of his ass to ripple under your hand as you held him steady. Geto laughed at how fast Gojo's expression changed from cocky to desperate, the sight making his cock twitch in his hand.

"A-ah- ah-" Gojo softly whimpered, his hands curling around the pillow under his head for comfort as you fingered him. Your pace now felt words better than your sloppy, slow one just seconds prior, but something was still missing. He needed you deeper, lower. Your fingers just barely ghosting over his prostate was not nearly enough, he needed you to jab directly into it, to abuse it with no remorse.

"Deeper baby, a little deeper," Gojo instructed, the teasing in his voice long gone, now replaced with a carnal need. "Angle your fingers down, curl them down like you're trying to touch my stomach." You quickly took his words into action, wanting to see him crumple under your hand. "You know all the tricks, huh?" Geto chimed in, wishing so badly he was there right now.

What would be his role? Would he be the one fucking his fingers into Gojo's ass while you sucked him off? Maybe he would have you lean forward so he could eat your pretty pussy out while you fingered Gojo, both options sounded delicious. His hand sped up as he lost himself in his fantasies, his free hand curling into the sheets as his eyes stayed glued on the two of you.

You angled your fingers down, towards his tummy like he had instructed, and jabbed your fingers in, curling them when your fingers fucked into his ass to the hilt. The guttural moan Gojo released sent shivers down your spine. "Oh fuck- right there, do that again-" He begged, his arms tightening around his pillow as he shamelessly wiggled his hips back against you, trying to get your fingers to hit that spot inside him again.

Your face scrunched in pleasure as you repeated the motion, feeling a walnut-shaped ball under your fingers each time you curled them inside him. "Ohmyfuckinggod-" Gojo grits through his teeth, his teeth clicking together each time his jaw opens and closes in pleasure. "That looks like it feels good, Satoru," Gojo smirked, the only tell of his arousal being how a light blush spread across his face. Pretty impressive considering how much he was leaking on his fingers from how hot he felt watching the show the two of you were putting on.

Gojo tried to open his mouth to respond but you had gotten more confident with his unabashed moaning, your fingers pistoning in and out of his tight ass, drilling straight into his prostate. "Ah- ah- ah-" The white-haired man moaned so prettily, all the sounds coming from his body being music to your ears. "Does that feel good, Satoru?" You ask, your words coming out more timid than you would've liked.

Your roommate nodded profusely, an adorable red blush spread across his cheeks as his eyes rolled back in his head from how good he was feeling. "So f-fucking good- Ngh- feels so- intense! Nghhhh-" Gojo whined, his words coming out choppy and slurred from the whines being fucked from his body.

“Oh fuck baby- fuck- fuck my ass baby ohmygod- harderrrr-“ Gojo slurred, whimpering into the sheets like some slut. You pressed your thighs together, your clit throbbing at his desperate show of his need for pleasure.

Geto pressed his lips together as subtly as possible, trying to appear unaffected as he rapidly jerked his hand over his cock, matching your pace inside Gojo's tight hole. His camera was shaking slightly with his movements, but he was feeling too good to care. The both of you were quite preoccupied anyway, it's not like you would notice his camera shaking anyway.

"Grab his cock pretty girl," Geto instructed, his eyes falling lower with his arousal, a warm heat flooding over his body. You looked over to the camera, making eye contact with Geto, who kept his unwavering eyes on yours, his eyes slightly glossed over with his arousal.

"Yeah- y-yeah, m-my cock, touch my cock-" Gojo jumped in, a drunken smile plastered on his face as he tried to look at you over his shoulder, his pink face nodding profusely. You looked away from Geto to look down between the white-haired man's legs, your eyes finding their target--being his long, thick cock that dangled heavily between his legs, a steady drip of pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock each time your fingers hit his prostate.

"Been watching his poor cock leak since you started this, the tip is so red," Geto added, his voice failing to sound as unaffected as he would've liked. If Gojo was in the right headspace, he would've teased Geto at the fact that he just admits to staring at his cock throughout this whole endeavor, but alas, he was too busy drooling and whimpering against his sheets to tease anyone right now.

Blushing, you abandoned your hand that was placed on Gojo's soft ass to drop it between his legs. The second your lithe fingers wrapped around his neglected cock, his whole body jerked harshly, almost like it was trying to escape your hand. "Fuck-" Gojo grit, wincing at how sensitive his cock was from being neglected for so long.

"Oh shit, bet it's sooo much right now, huh?" Geto asked his best friend. Gojo's eyes found Geto's through the phone screen, tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes as you immediately fell into a quick rhythm, your hand jerking over his length at a pace that matched the one inside him. Gojo could only nod pathetically, his face scrunching in pleasure as your hand focused on his tip, jerking over the sensitive red head quickly, causing cute squelches to echo throughout the room.

"You're so wet, Satoru." You whispered in awe, your mouth dropping into a small o as you milked his cock, the pool of pre-cum on his sheets between his legs making it look like he had already cum several times--you had no idea how he still had so much to give.

Gojo's body jerked around, the tears that had welled up in his eyes finally fell down his rosy cheeks, over the slope of his nose, and joined together on his pillow. "Fuck- please p-please- Nghhh- A-ah-" He didn't know what he was begging for. He was unsure if he wanted you to stop, or give him more. All he knew is that it was all so fucking overwhelming; having everyone's attention on him.

"Talk to us Satoru, how's it feel?" Geto asked, his words coming out more like begs as he felt himself steadily approach his orgasm, his hand focusing on his tip just like yours was doing on Satoru's. "I- I don't know I- fuck it's so much- too much-" Gojo answered, his eyes twitching and rolling back in his head.

You showed no mercy, jerking your hand faster over the entire length of his cock you stood on your knees and pistoned your fingers into his prostate more directly with the new leverage, resulting in Gojo's ankles crossing and kicking up at the intense pleasure. "I thought you wanted it rough? Do you take it back? Want me to stop?" You asked teasingly, knowing you weren't going to let up even if he begged you to stop.

"No! Nonono don't stop p-please don't stop-" Gojo cried, his head jerking against his satin pillowcase as he fought through the intense pleasure, his body jerking and spasming without his permission. "He's a fucking mess, look what you did~" Geto laughed, his dick twitching with interest at Gojo's teary, drooling face.

"Ahhh- ah- right there- keep f-fucking me right there-" Gojo gasped, his hands digging into his pillow as his eyes squeezed shut, his orgasm welling up in his tummy. "I think he's gonna cum pretty, is his cock twitching?" Geto asked, knowing very well what the telltale signs of a man's orgasm were.

You nodded, Gojo's cock was throbbing profusely in your hand, and his tight hole was squeezing more consistently around your fingers as well, almost like a heartbeat--it was so cute. "Oh yeah, you're gonna cum aren't you Satoru? Gonna cum from a few fingers in your ass? Hmm?" Geto teased, taking a sharp inhale in through his teeth as his own hand sped up, his cock twitching in his hold.

Satoru nodded, unable to voice his thoughts. Unable to scream from the top of his lungs, "Yes! Yes, I'm going to cum!" Instead, his jaw fell completely slack, drool pooling out of his mouth and onto the sheets as you worked him right up to his orgasm.

"Me too, look at me Satoru, look at me." Just moments before Satoru was pushed over the edge from your merciless fingers, he cracked his teary eyes open and was faced with Geto's long cock filling up the expanse of the phone screen, his massive hand jerking quickly over his length, making it almost look blurry from how fast he was going.

The visual of his best getting off to his ass being pummeled was all Gojo needed to be pushed off the edge. With a high-pitched cry of your name, his shaky hand shot back to grip your wrist as the first rope of his orgasm shot out of his cock, adding to the pool of his cum already between his legs, soaking into the sheets.

His hole squeezed tightly around your fingers, acting as if he was trying to snap them off, keeping them deep inside him. “Don’t stop- D-don’t stop” He begged pathetically, his wrist being dragged with you as you kept thrusting into him, working him through his high.

You moaned with him in awe as his body was wracked with tremors, threatening to collapse against the sheets. “I won’t, I got you Toru, I got you.” You consoled, paying special attention to his tip as you milked him for all he was worth.

Gojo’s thick cum made a mess of your fingers. Most of his hot cum landed on the bed sheets, but when someone cums as much as he does, it only makes sense that you got some on your fingers.

“Oh fuck- so pretty-“ Geto groaned, his jaw muscles clenching under the weight of his teeth as he came. You and Gojo both watched as white streaks of cum landed on Geto’s abs and thighs, the squelching on his own cock got louder as his cum acted as lube over his cock, increasing the already messy slick on his length.

“I didn’t realize you were getting off to this Geto.” You said, your chest heaving with your own arousal as your eyes flit back and forth between Gojo’s tight hole and Geto’s cock on the screen.

Through his groans, you heard him laugh as you watched him wring out his cock, making sure all of his cum had released from his cock. “How could I not? You guys are so fucking hot.” His gruff voice spoke, the camera flipping back to his handsome face.

You and Gojo both silently mourned the loss of the view of Geto’s cock. Although it was fairly hard to be disappointed when his pale face came into view his cheeks dusted in a deep pink, sweat beading on his forehead, his chest heaving as he tried to recover from his orgasm.

“H-hey-“ Gojo whined, his strength returning to his body as he gripped your wrist he had a hold of, signaling you stop moving inside him. You mumbled a quick ‘sorry’, you had gotten distracted watching Geto cum, forgetting you were pleasuring your handsome roommate underneath you.

You slowly pulled your fingers out of his ass, Gojo whined dramatically at the loss, his hole clenching around you in sensitivity. “You don’t wanna let me go, do you?” You giggled, your fingers finally slipping free of his tight hole.

“Fuck no~” Gojo giggled, the cloudiness slowly clearing from his brain, allowing his signature snarkiness to come back to him. Geto laughed as he set his phone down, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he wiped his softening cock clean with a towel.

“Suguru~” Gojo called in a singsong voice, his body collapsing on his side, his cock twitching limply against the sheets. Your hands rubbed along his thighs as he relaxed into the bed, noticing how a cute red flush was also dusting along his thighs and shoulders. Adorable.

“Were you paying attention? You have to admit that looked nice, right~?” Gojo asked teasingly, raising his eyebrows at the dark-haired man through the screen. Gojo’s ability to bounce back from even the most intense prostate orgasm was astonishing.

“I think it looks nice on you, sure.” Geto laughed, throwing the towel he used to clean his cock to the floor, grabbing his phone back in his hand as he laid back against his bed, throwing his arm behind his head.

Gojo pouted, rolling on his back to look at you for help with puppy eyes. “What are you looking at me for?” You asked, sitting back on your heels as you jerked your head back, looking around the room for anyone else Gojo could be looking at.

“I thought you were gonna help me convince himmm.” Gojo drawled, his arms pushing himself up to sit on his ass as he reached out for you. You blushed as you let him pull you into his arms, your hands falling on his chest with a surprised noise as you sat on his thighs, just under his cock.

“I could only do so much you know…” You said, avoiding his eyes as his hands made a home on your upper thighs, stroking the skin teasingly. “Maybe you should‘ve cried a little harder!” Geto chimed in, winking into the camera.

Gojo pouted, wiping his hands over his still-wet cheeks to rid the evidence of Geto’s teasing. “So all of that was for nothing then?” Gojo asked, looking between the two of you incredulously, his hand that had whipped at his cheek slapping back down onto the skin of your thigh.

“No, not nothing,” Geto said, looking smugly into the camera. You and Gojo looked to Geto confused, waiting for him to elaborate. “I discovered how bad I wanna fuck you both. That’s not nothing, right?” Geto revealed nonchalantly, making you and Gojo’s jaws drop in tandem.

You felt your face heat up at his confession. Maybe you hadn’t convinced Geto to play with his ass just yet, but you had unknowingly convinced him to play with something even better.

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

You break down into tears and tell them: "It’s been so long since I’ve felt this happy, I think I just got overwhelmed. You make me happy.” 

Heartslabyul dorm; Savanaclaw dorm; Octavinelle dorm (here); Scarabia dorm; Pomefiore Dorm; Ignihyde Dorm; Diasomnia Dorm

Jade Leech – The hike was a grueling one, and late as well. You understood now why you had to pack a tent and sleeping bag for this one, thought he cooling air was helping with your sore feet.  

When you had arrived at the clearing, he had the two of you quickly set up and then led away to a hidden entrance. It was a cave where he kept his more dangerous mushrooms, the soft glow of the moon entering through holes in the roof reflecting the stalactites above with dew like a knives edge.  

He’s whispering softly, as if too loud of a sound will disturb them. Maybe that’s why the hitch in your breath seems to echo.  

He only grows more confused as you explain. Is this a land dweller reaction? No, no he had never seen something like this before, even in his short time interacting with others.  

He gives that polite smile that’s just on the edge of something softer, using his gloves to wipe them away before lifting your chin.  

“You must expect more from life,” He tells you, the words echoing divinely. “And if you cannot find it, cultivate it. All things can thrive, under the right conditions. That includes us.”  

Floyd Leech – Azul doesn’t like it when he does experimental dishes in the Monstro Lounge kitchen, which is silly, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the fight right now. So he just breaks into Ramshackle to cook in yours!  

You don’t mind really, they be experimental but they are usually tasty, sometimes even pretty, though you always double check that something like shellfish or shrimp is cooked to human temperatures. You two had learned that the hard way.  

He laughs at your scrunched up nose as you sip the broth from his spoon. He doesn’t see the way you just stare at him a moment, turning your face to hide.  

As he listens, his hands clench. That’s fucked up. It can’t-it shouldn’t- but it is. You can’t always do what you want when your shrimpy size. He can’t even do that at his size.  

He picks you up and twirls you around the kitchen, squeezing until you start laughing again.  

“I’ll just have to steal Shrimpy away more often,” he says, “And we can both be happy together. No more tears though. Lots of people deserve to cry, and Shrimpy isn’t one of them.”  

Azul Ashengrotto – It was a small debate, with you defending local business and him defending corporate business. It was something the two of you had done before, matching wits and parries, but something felt different this time.  

You just stare a moment, a soft smile until he saw it. A small tear quickly wiped away. Azul immediately wipes it away, asking what he did wrong, only to find the opposite. He simply makes you happy.  

He starts crying with you, the both of you a bit hysterical. He never imagined this. Somebody just being there to be there, how he values your opinion and thoughts, how you can debate like this and it not get too heated. The urge to collect and keep is so strong. To simply gather you into a cave and feed and gift you everything you could ever desire. But you wouldn’t take it and he knows it.  

So he settles with wiping your years with his embroidered handkerchief, appreciating the way the lavender contrasts with your skin.  

“Well, angelfish, the solution to your problem is simple.” he declares, tucking the handkerchief into your dorm pocket, “You must simply stay by me.”  

[crimsonvictory]

Emergency

MINORS DNI

Word Count: 8.2k

Tags: simon riley x reader, self-reader insert, simon riley x you

Warnings: SMUT, p-in-v, overstimulation, pain kink, mature, voice kink, fingering, oral sex, fluff

Looking up at the building's sign above your head, you were starting to think that this was a mistake. Maybe driving yourself to a sketchy address texted to you by your friend wasn't the best idea, and there was the possibility that she may be planning your funeral next week. The tan brick building was old and crumbling, but somehow still standing after all the weathering over the years. You pulled your phone out, double-checking the address from your messages, and yes, 869 Elvie Street was the correct address.

The events leading to this scenario started a couple of weeks ago when you mentioned to a friend that you were having some stress-induced pain due to your job.

"Have you tried getting laid?" was her first question.

After exclaiming to her that not every problem is fixed with sex, she provided the option of possibly seeing a chiropractor or massage therapist. You had gone over the suggestion in your mind, waiting a few days before texting her and asking for recommendations. She had a tried and true place she had been going for years, so you trusted her judgment.

"Now, don't be put off immediately. Simon doesn't have a lot to say, strictly work. Not the friendliest type but I swear he can pinpoint exactly where my pain is coming from and I feel like I'm on cloud nine when I leave his place. He's a private practice, so only one-on-one with him."

The issue with going there was that Simon’s hours conflicted with your work schedule, and it was extremely difficult to get time off. It took you a while to message him, but when you finally did work up the courage, you asked if there was any possible way he could stay a little late to work you into his schedule. You were met with the blunt reply of,

"No. - S”

And that was that. You didn't dare message again, determining that your pain wasn't actually that bad to manage and that you could deal with it. To be honest, you had forgotten all about the text and went back to work, keeping busy for the next several weeks. That is until the sharp pain shooting from your hip down into your groin was unbearable and you could hardly walk. You were never one to call off of work, but there was no possible way you would be able to get through the day in the state that you were currently in. Teeth gritting in pain, you called your friend, begging her to talk to Simon - put in that it was an emergency.

"Can you get yourself there by 10?" she had texted.

You shot a glance at the clock - 8:47. A soft groan left your lips, you had texted a short reply that you would be able to. Maybe you should have thought about it for a moment before sending an immediate reply. Typing in the address that your friend had given you, you were pleasantly surprised that it was only a few minutes down the road from your apartment. Slowly sliding to the edge of the couch, you grit your teeth in pain once again as you try putting your weight on your good hip. The sharp jabbing pain raced like fire down into your groin, causing you to cry out softly. You huffed in annoyance, slowly making your way to the bedroom to get dressed for your appointment.

It took a lot longer than you wanted, the attempt to put on a new pair of pants almost sending you into a fit of hysterics. You limp over to your bathroom vanity, taking a moment to brush your hair and then your teeth. Your eyes are a bit bleary with tears, so you blink them away, attempting to not look deranged. This is the best that you can do in your situation. Taking one final look at yourself, you huff yet again and make the long and painful route (typically a less than 2-minute walk down a short flight of stairs) to your car.

Shutting the door behind you, you lean on your good hip as you lock the front door to your apartment. It's a bit chilly out, the sun is not quite over the clouds this morning. A quick glance at your watch lets you know that you have about 15 minutes until your designated appointment. The familiar wash of anxiety starts from the crown of your head, making you shutter slightly as it passes down your shoulders and into your stomach. Everything would be okay... you told yourself (almost unconvincingly).

The ride over was quiet, opting to not listen to any music as you were already overstimulated. You followed the little arrow on the map, almost missing your turn because your thoughts were elsewhere. A quick parallel park of your car and you throw it into Park, letting out a deep breath before attempting to pull yourself out. You have your keys and phone in one hand, using the other to grab the handle above to use as leverage. Your good foot makes contact with the asphalt, digging in slightly as you hoist yourself up, careful not to jerk too quickly.

You stumble for just a moment, leaning against the now-closed car door before righting yourself once more and slowly making your way over to the sidewalk. Nervousness pulls in your stomach again. A glance to the left and right of your surroundings shows there are no other cars on the street that you're parked on. You tilt your phone up, opening up your messages to let Simon know that you're here.

A few moments go by in silence, and you shift your weight again, taking a look at your surroundings. A bell chiming grabs your attention and you look back towards the front door, surprise etching itself along your features as a man - you are guessing Simon, fills up the entrance. He appears almost out of nowhere, still as a statue as he stands there. He crosses his arms, stretching the grey t-shirt he has on to the point where they might almost bust out of the sleeves.

You blink rapidly, taking him all in. His dark eyes lock onto you, gaze unwavering. Brows furrowed slightly, the only available space you can see are his eyes. The lower half of his face is covered by a black surgical mask. Mysterious. You're at a loss for words, not knowing what to say. His gaze has you pinned to the spot, almost as if you were caught doing something particularly naughty.

A soft grumbling noise comes from his chest, a noise of annoyance as he rolls his eyes and turns back to walk back inside, letting the door fall back into its previous closed state. A frown tugs your lips downward, confusion whirling a spiraling pattern into your thoughts as you slowly hobble towards the door. You push it open, the bell chiming once again before the rush of the wind pulls the door shut quickly behind you, causing you to jump. Taking a look around the office, it's - as expected. Neat, white walls and grey wooden flooring. Nothing is decorating the small area, but surprisingly there are a few well taken care of monsteras by the front door. The air smells like eucalyptus and mint, a relaxing scent that causes your tightly drawn shoulders to droop just a bit.

You're not sure where Simon went so you stay by the front door, not wanting to be caught snooping around the office. He comes back just a few moments later, still silent as he steps forward and crowds your space. You inhale sharply, the faint smell of cigarettes and Earl Grey filling your nostrils. He reaches beside your head, flipping the deadbolt to the left - locking you both inside.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you grip your keys a bit tighter, watching as he turns quickly on his heel and disappears down the hallway.

"Down here, love," he calls, his deep voice reverberating off of the walls.

It takes you by surprise, a warm heat spreading in your belly. You somehow get your feet to move, brain short-circuiting as you try to actively process what the hell your friend got you into.

The room at the end of the hall is much cozier than the front office. Light grey walls and a carpeted floor, shelves full of herbs and salves, a long black bench, and a rack of towels are inside. Simon's sitting on a black rolling chair, legs spread out on either side of him. The soft glow of a lamp casts a variety of shadows in the room, making it a bit hard to see his face.

You are hesitant, but trust your friend and step forward into the room. Your eyes bounce around, taking everything in before landing back on Simon.

"Your friend said this was an emergency?" he asks coolly, eyebrows raising slightly.

You nod, pressing your lips together in a slight grimace, the pain of your hip dully radiating at the moment.

"What's bothering you?" he asks again, eyes flicking quickly over your form before landing back on your face.

You feel your cheeks flush, the rush of embarrassment hitting you quickly. A quick clear of your throat before you answer timidly.

"M-My hip."

His brows furrow for a moment before relaxing back on his face. He didn't pry, which you were grateful for. God only knows the thoughts running through his head at your answer. Simon beckons you closer and you oblige, trying your best not to put too much weight on your leg. He hums softly, almost as if confirming to himself what to do with you. You're standing rather close, the scent of him filling your nostrils again. It makes your stomach flutter.

"Can you sit?" he asks, dark eyes catching your gaze.

You nod, almost dumbly as you shuffle forward, turning and placing the back of your lower thighs flush with the black table. Leaning back slightly, you go to sit down when that flash of pain shoots down your leg again, causing you to gasp sharply.

Simon's hand wraps itself around your waist quickly, holding your weight for a moment while you try to steady yourself. Your brows furrow in pain, tears welling up as you look past him, staring at the wall and willing the moment to pass. Your body trembles slightly and you let out a huff of air, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again. The moment has passed.

You notice his dark eyes on you again, cheeks flushing with the scrutiny of his gaze.

"Alright?" he asks lowly, eyes scanning your face again for any sign of pain.

You nod slowly and he helps you lower yourself on the table. You're seated now, resting for a moment as you tell him.

"Thank you..."

He hums softly again, the sound rumbling around in his chest. Simon steps forward, pushing himself up from the small stool he was sitting on. You sit there wondering how it manages to hold his weight. A light press on your shoulder from him, wanting you to lie on your back. The plushness of the table is comfortable, and you wiggle for a moment before deciding that you're comfy. It's hard to resist looking at him, large frame taking up your entire field of vision. You can't even see the door anymore.

Your eyes flutter closed, willing them to stop for a moment. Simon’s standing by your side, and you feel his large hand circle your ankle, pushing your knee up toward the ceiling. There's a slight pull again from your hip and you tense, wary of the oncoming pain.

"Relax," he murmurs.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and tell yourself to calm down. Blood rushing in your ears, you hear the familiar whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

"'M gonna try and stretch your hip flexor before I adjust you, alright?" he explains and you nod.

With one hand on your knee and the other circling your hip he starts with a small range of motion, moving your knee towards your chest and back out again. So far so good, minimal pain. His fingers squeeze into the fat of your hip, keeping it stable as he goes through a few motions for mobility. It's only when Simon moves your knee out parallel from your body that you cry out involuntarily, the sharp sensation pulling the breath from you.

You watch as his brows furrow once more and he squeezes your hip gently - an apology. Your breath quickens, eyes widening as he slowly moves your hip back to its original spot before doing it once more. The pain is there again, but not as sudden. You let out a shuttering breath, the anticipation of the imminent pain causing you to sniffle.

"There we go..." he murmurs.

His voice causes a wave of relaxation over your body, and you go pliant in his grip. The motions are becoming easier, less and less of the pulling pain as he stretches your hip out. It's become more of a dull ache, something that you could manage. He moves to your other hip, repeating the motions from just moments earlier. This one causes no problems at all. Your gaze flits up to the ceiling, watching the shadows of the light bounce as it reflects off of his movement. He releases your hip, and you immediately miss the contact. Simon shifts down to the edge of the table, holding both of your feet together as he examines the natural alignment of your hips.

"One's a bit shorter than the other," he explains, crouching down to look at which one to adjust through one squinted eye.

"Good news, it's not the injured one," you hear a hint of a smile in his voice.

You smile back softly in return, watching as his two large hands wrap around your right foot after letting your other leg drop gently to the table. He wiggles your foot slightly, loosening up your hip.

"Relax f'me," he instructs (and how could you with the sound of his voice making pleasure burn deliciously in your stomach).

Wiggling your foot one more time, he yanks back towards himself suddenly, a sharp crack! from your hip filling the room.

"Woah," you gasp out quietly.

He grabs your shoes again, checking the alignment before dropping them gently, satisfied that the adjustment did the job. Simon's large hand reaches out, an offer to help pull you into a seated position. His hands are calloused, but not super rough against your own skin. He gently lets go and whirls around to his shelves of salves, rummaging through before he finds some BioFreeze. It's in a small aluminum tin, the sharp smell of medical tincture burning your nose.

"Apply this once you get home, you're gonna be sore for a few days. Helps relax the muscles," he explains.

You pluck it gently from his fingers, twirling the tin in your own.

"I can't thank you enough..." you murmur, looking down in your lap.

He tuts softly, placing a hand on the small of your back and helping you up and off the black table. You look up at him once more, eyes focused on his mask as you ask,

"How much?"

"Consider it a favor for a friend," he says.

You're walking down the short hallway now, looking over your shoulder at him. He follows you to the door, reaching over to unlock the deadbolt before leaning back at a respectable distance once more.

"I can't just not pay you," you argue softly.

He shakes his head, a soft huff of a laugh falling from his lips.

"Heal that hip up and I'll think about it."

With that, he gives you a wink and opens the door for you, ushering you outside. Your mouth drops slightly, blushing at his words before you click your key fob to unlock the car. You grab the handle, missing it a few times before you finally yank the door open and hop inside, throwing your belongings in the passenger seat. The first thing you do is grab your phone, furiously typing your friend's phone number into the dial box. She picks up in two rings.

"Well...?" she prods, an obvious grin in her voice.

"Well-" you huff, putting your seatbelt on in a hurry as you start to drive, not even fully clicked in before you speed off. "I feel a lot better."

She laughs on the other end. "I told you! He's amazing! And sooo handsome too, even behind the mask.”

You laugh softly at that, nodding your head even though she couldn't see you.

"He wouldn't let me pay," you pout, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel as you drive home.

"Really?" she asks incredulously.

"Mhm..." you answer, thinking back to the conversation. "He told me to let my hip heal and that he would think about it." you continue. "He also-,"

"What? He what?" she prods, so excited it sounded like she was trying to jump through the phone.

"H-He winked at me when he said it," you blush deeply, thinking about his dark eyes staying glued to you the whole appointment.

"Oh my god!" she squeals. "You know what that means right?" she asks.

"No?" you answer, genuine confusion in your voice.

--

What it meant was that he wanted to fuck. Unbeknownst to you, Simon could barely keep himself appropriate when he opened the door to you that day. A client of his, your friend, had practically begged him to get you in. She declared your situation an emergency. It was an emergency all right, the emergency being that he wasn't stuffing your pussy full of his cock at this very second. It took all of his composure not to strip you down in his office and have you begging for more. Your little whimpers and cries of pain turned on that wicked part of his brain that got off on it. He kept replaying them in his head that night, thick fingers wrapped around the base of himself as he bucked into the tight fist he had made. Simon was seriously fucked up. He knew it but couldn't help himself. Couldn't help dipping into the temptation of the possibility of having your soft body underneath his own.

He wanted to know what you tasted like, what you felt like under his rough hands. He'd treat you well. Pulling every last little noise out of you that he could. The thought alone had him crying out hoarsely, covering his hand in the sinful act of imagination.

Good god.

Simon groaned, shame filling his stomach as he rolled off the side of the bed, strolling over to the bathroom in just a few steps to clean himself up.

What was he going to do?

--

The salve Simon had given you was a godsend. As he had told you, your hips were super sore over the next few days, but having the cooling salve helped ease the tense muscles. You had gone back to work, your friend pestering you every second about him. Simon...you sigh, shaking the thought of him from your mind. Something about him...

You had thought about texting him, but that would be weird. There was no absolute reason for you to have to see him again. Your hip was doing better, the overstretched ligament finally healing with the help of his hands. Oh, his hands... You reminisce on the feeling of having his long fingers wrapped around your hips, the gentle squeezes of comfort, the sure way he knew what to manipulate on your body to make you feel better.

God. You were fucked.

--

Things were going well for a couple of weeks until one Sunday evening, you had decided to take a bath and treat yourself to a nice evening. The water was scalding, just how you liked it, as you slid into the water, a long sigh escaping your lips as you soaked your weary muscles. You close your eyes, thoughts drifting to a certain someone... imagining what he would do to you. A soft moan escapes your lips, hand sliding down your torso to gently brush against your clit.

An exasperated laugh left you, applying more pressure at the thought of his hands sliding down your body. Your hips jerked up suddenly, and to your horror, the sharp pain came back instantly. Oh no...

Dread filled your body as soon as it happened, already knowing that you were going to have to message him again. Maybe you could try to get out of the bath...

The sharp pain pulled again, causing you to curse in frustration. Looks like you were stuck for the time being. You grab your phone, open up to your contacts, and send Simon a quick message.

Another emergency.

...

Silence. You huff, knowing that he's not obligated to answer you. It was his day off after all. You might as well enjoy the hot water as much as possible. The warmth envelops your body, providing a little bit of comfort as you relax.

--

You must've dozed off because when you wake, the bath is lukewarm. A groan falls from your lips, rubbing a hand down your face before blindly reaching over for your phone. You blink blearily at the bright screen, looking at your notifications. Simon had replied. Oh shit. Your fingers shake as you open the notification.

Hope it wasn't because of something naughty. ;) - S

You nearly scream, cheeks ablaze with emotion. How the hell did he know?

Ha. Ha. You reply quickly.

You see the ... floating back and forth as he types, thoughts in limbo.

Can you walk? He asks.

You weren't sure, not having tested before because of the pain. Easing up slowly, you're able to pull yourself into a seated position. The water drips down your body and into the water, rapid descent of the drops making a soft tinkling noise. You reach for your towel, slowly starting to dry yourself off and wrapping it around your damp body. It takes a moment, but you're able to pull yourself up and over the tub, staying in a small crouch. If you're in this position, it's not too bad. You grip the counter, sending a quick text back.

Barely.

It takes a few moments for him to respond, and by that time, you have your towel dropped around your feet and are attempting to put on your panties.

I can stop by.

Your stomach flutters after reading his text. Fingers grip your phone as you respond.

I wouldn't want to bother…

Maybe you could make it until the beginning of the week. Tilting your hips back, you push yourself up, throwing an oversized shirt on quickly before bunching back over in discomfort.

Address?

Is all he asks. You huff, knowing you're not going to be able to argue, so you send it to him.

—

He arrives at your apartment in 20 minutes. In that time, you had slowly made your way to the living room so that you could sit on the couch and wait for him. A sharp rap of his knuckles notifies that it is indeed him. You groan when you sit up again, slowly shuffling to the door. Your fingers fumble with the lock, twisting the metal bar to the side before you pull back, allowing the door to open.

It's a bit hard to see him from the angle that you're bent at, but you tilt your head to get a quick look at him.

Simon opted for black scrubs this time, his pants pulling deliciously taut against his thick thighs. His shirt is just a thin white tee, doing little to hide his broad chest. You notice a smattering of ink crawling up his forearm, as it’s closest to your field of sight.

Your eyes catch his, noticing the softness of his gaze. You realize you must look like a wounded animal to him - pathetic.

“Can I come in?” he asks politely, voice rumbling with deep timbre.

“Yes,” you sigh out, catching the way his eyes fall to your lower half.

His mask crinkles up against his face, he's smirking. It's only then that you realize that you forgot to put on pants. How embarrassing. Heat flushes hot up your chest, staining your cheeks pink.

“I’m sorry,” you half apologize. “I couldn’t-.”

“S’okay,” he soothes.

You nod, slowly stepping back and allowing him in. He looks odd in your apartment. The hulk of him taking up most of your entryway. He has to duck to step through the threshold, kicking his shoes off by the door. What a gentleman.

You swing the door shut, mimicking his actions from a few weeks ago, and locking the deadbolt behind you. The air is a bit awkward, mostly due to your own insecurities. You attempt to pull your shirt down farther to cover your bare legs.

“Don’t have to hide from me, lovie,” Simon murmurs. “Let’s get you sorted out, yeah?”

You nod, looking at him for direction. He takes a step forward, crowding your space with his presence. Simon’s paw of a hand flexes at his side, clearly restraining to the best of his ability to not touch you.

“Where’s most comfortable?” he questions, taking a look around your small apartment.

You hum, thinking…the bed would probably be the most comfortable, but also very intimate. The couch could work too, but being only one-sided due to the back of it. There was also the floor…but you didn’t know if you could get back up from it afterward. Bed it was then.

“The bed…” you murmur shyly.

His mask crinkles again, pulling against his face as he smirks again.

“After you,” he gestures with a slight nod of his head.

You turn then, stomach twirling with anxiety as you lead him into the bedroom. Slow, deliberate steps to not flare up your injury. The air is a bit cooler and you shiver, goosebumps crawling up your skin. Your clock reads 0442, the golden rays of sunshine confirming the time.

Your bedroom isn’t messy, but a bit eclectic with the clutter - a few books stacked on your nightstand, a jewelry tray, and a few odds and ends from your purse scattered on your vanity. You always leave a lamp on, along with an essential oil diffuser. Eucalyptus and mint - your favorite.

Simon pads silently behind you, almost forgotten until you catch him out of the corner of your eye. You watch as he takes in the small space, a soft hum as his eyes dance around the room.

You had, for once made your bed today, a fluffy black duvet and a grey throw stretched across the queen size. You didn’t particularly need such a wide space, but it was a luxury of yours, being able to spread out on your own.

Walking (limping) around to your side of the bed, you take it slow when sitting down. You laugh suddenly, imagining what Simon must think of you - an old lady.

“Somethin’ funny?” he questions, a smile in his voice.

“I must look be a sight, hobbling around like this,” you laugh breathlessly.

A slight shake of his head, eyes nearly shut. He’s cheesin’. Simon steps around to meet you, mimicking his movements from a few weeks prior. Two of his thick fingers push into the rivet of your shoulder - a silent plea to lay on your back. Obviously, your bed is much comfier, plush pillows surrounding your head as you sigh. Eyelids fluttering, you look directly up at him, a blush dusting your cheeks as you wait for him to move.

A large hand slides down your side, settling in the crook of your hip. His fingers squeeze at the fat there, stabilizing the joint as his other hand slowly brings your knee up to point to the ceiling. The movements are much slower now, remembering from the first incident that he had caused you pain.

Your body is tense, waiting for the sharp ripple that travels down your thigh - it does, as soon as your hip flexor is tilted to the side.

A sharp cry punches out of your lungs, eyes immediately filling with tears.

“Sorry, love…” Simon murmurs, voicing genuine concern.

You sniffle, taking a deep breath as he makes the rotation back to the first position.

“You’re too tense,” he grumbles, releasing the hold on your knee before sliding his fingers down your bare leg, erupting goosebumps along their wake.

He allows his fingers to unfurl from your hip, pushing the hem of your shirt just above it, so that he can see the bare skin there.

Your eyes flicker down to the exposed spot, desperately wanting to yank your shirt back down.

“Where’s the salve?” he questions.

“Hm?” you hum, thoughts drifting again to his hands.

“The salve?” he questions again, eyebrows raising towards his hairline.

“Oh,” you sigh. “Bedside drawer.” you point to the nightstand to the right of you.

He rummages around for only a moment before the metal tin is in his large hands. Spinning the lid off, he dips two fingers down into the tincture before gently rubbing it into the skin of your hip. You whine softly, the cooling sensation a relief to the flared injury.

Simon huffs softly, eyes flitting over your near-naked form before settling on your own.

“Can’t be making noises like that, bunny,” he warns lowly.

A tingling sensation pulls in your stomach, desire pooling at the base of your spine. Only then do you notice his cock is straining against his pants, clearly turned on by your involuntary noises. You bite your lip hard, turning your head away to not look at him. He was doing you a favor - that was all. A favor for a friend…right?

“Simon,” you sigh softly. “I’m sorry.”

You roll your head back to the other side, blinking before looking up at his face. His brows furrow, confusion etching them into place.

“Don’t apologize,” he huffs, just a faint hint of frustration in his voice.

You can’t tell if he’s frustrated with himself or you. A frown turns your lips downward. His fingers have stopped rubbing the rest of the tincture into your skin, frozen in place as if he’s afraid to touch you again. His other hand is at a fist at his side, fingers clenching together in restraint. Simon’s chest rides and falls languidly as the moment passes, silence lingering in the shared space.

You take a deep breath before you speak,

“Is everything okay?”

His dark eyes flit to yours, pupils dilated to the point where they melt into his irises. Another unblinking gaze makes you a bit uneasy. A familiar flutter of panic itches at the back of your skull.

“No,” he finally answers, slicing the tension of silence with a verbal knife.

“Why?” you breathe out, entranced in his gaze, the rise and fall of your chest quickening.

“Because I want to touch you,” he admits, words so soft your ears are straining to hear them.

Your brain short circuits, a flood of arousal filling your panties. You tense slightly, an unwarranted reaction - before slowly relaxing and letting your legs fall open - an invitation. You’re still mindful of your injured hip, Simon’s fingers still slightly brushing the top of your thighs.

He groans then, a delightful noise that rattles around in his chest before spilling from his lips. Simon places his knee on the bed, slowly leaning his weight forward as he crawls up in between your legs. Your head was spinning, trying to catch up with what was unfolding before you. His touch is featherlight, fingers lightly brushing the bare skin of your calf closest to him. Sitting up on your elbows, you watch quietly, curious as to how this was going to play out.

The sun was starting to set, golden hues splaying across Simon’s form. A particular ray hit his eyes, revealing the brilliant ochre that spiraled within them. He looked like something of a god, on display for you and you only. Simon leans down then, pulling his mask down just a bit to place his lips on your skin. You shutter, the feeling of them erupting goosebumps. They were surprisingly soft, slightly chapped, and full. He slowly moves up your thigh, gentle kisses placed on your skin, nearly afraid of breaking you.

—

You were fragile in his eyes. Something that he wouldn’t dare to shatter. But yet, something in him wanted to, wanted to break and bend and manipulate you with his bare hands. Simon wanted to pull every ounce of pleasure from your body, to take away the pain that was lingering. He wanted to hear your pretty whines, watch your body react, and flush to his touches. Mold you into his own body, fitting the two as one. Dip his fingers into your soaking cunt. He opts for placing soft kisses first, warming you to his touch.

To his pleasure, you’re extremely reactive, soft sighs and hums of approval are music to his ears. His large hands slide up your bare thighs, admiring the smoothness of your skin. You answering your door in your underwear was not on his radar and completely threw him for a loop.

Things had moved quickly and now…now he was wanting to taste you. Mouth watering at the thought. Simon looks at you now, trembling under his touch, anticipation etched onto your pretty face. He’s resting on his stomach, broad shoulders causing you to stretch your good hip out almost near exertion. A slow lean down and…

His warm mouth makes contact with your clothed pussy, tongue flattening against the fabric and sliding up achingly slow. A low moan falls from your lips, head falling back against the pillow. Simon repeats the motion, slowly mapping out your folds to memory. A shudder of pleasure makes its way down your body and you reach a hand out, placing it on his bicep. You give it a light squeeze, fingers curling tight.

Soft moans of yours fill the air, along with the smell of your arousal. You’re dripping wet, soaked fabric of your panties clinging to your folds. Simon hasn’t let up since he began, your slick dripping down his chin. His mask is long forgotten, but his face is hidden between your legs, so you can’t see what he looks like in his entirety.

His long fingers brush against the side of your panties, causing your hips to jerk upwards suddenly. A sharp gasp punches out of your chest, pain radiating down your thigh once again. Tears spring up in your eyes - frustration causing them to bubble up and over onto your cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed and you are jostled by Simon moving. Cheeks burning hot with shame, you turn your face away.

Your lip trembles despite you trying your best to keep it still. This was a mistake, and now he was going to leave. Your hand curls itself into a fist at your bare side.

A touch to your face startles you, causing your eyes to flutter open in shock. Simon is still there, mask placed back on his face as he gazes down at you. He’s half leaning over you, hand placed by the space near your shoulder, eyes glittering with concern.

“Let’s try something different, yeah?” he suggests.

It takes a moment for your brain to process the words, still in shock that he is still here. He still wants to even though you ruined the moment. You nod slowly, still frozen and afraid to move due to the pain. Simon snakes his right hand down to wrap his long fingers around the fat of your hip. He squeezes tightly, holding the aching muscle in place as he climbs onto your bed yet again.

Simon’s straddling your left leg, taking the quick movement to switch your positions in one fluid moment. You yelp, hands flying out to land on his chest as you try to steady yourself. He’s still got a grip on your hip, the pressure keeping it from overextending itself as you sit in his lap. You can feel his length through your soaked panties.

He’s resting comfortably back against your pillows, eyes half closed as they lazily scan down your body. His chest rises and falls languidly, a sound of contentment rumbling throughout. It almost sounds like he’s purring. An experimental shifting of his hips has the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, sending fire licking down your spine.

A pathetic noise crawls up your throat, falling from your lips on its own accord. You watch as his mask crinkles again, eyes nearly closed as he smirks. Simon rolls his hips up towards your own, keeping you locked in place. All you can do is take it, his vice-like grip preventing you from moving. Your stomach flutters with arousal, slick dripping down your thighs as his cock slides against the sticky fabric of your panties.

“Look ‘atcha,” he praises. “Makin’ a mess and I’ve barely touched ya.”

Your lip trembles and you bite down hard, willing it to keep still. His eyes catch your own and you watch his pupils dilate. You can see a blurry reflection of yourself in them, watching your face contort in pleasure as Simon presses up into you. Another whine pulls from your throat, the friction not enough. You needed more - you tried to wiggle in his grip but to no avail.

“What’sa matter?” he mocks, tone almost turning mean. “This not enough for ya?”

You shake your head, a hot flush running down your neck and into your chest.

“N-No,” you gasp as he thrusts his hips upwards again. “I need you, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he coos, squeezing your hip lovingly.

Simon doesn’t even bother to move you, just pushes your panties to the side and brushes his fingers through your folds. Your slick pools down onto his fingers, making it easy for him to press two inside. They’re thick, causing you to tense for a moment before relaxing and letting him in.

“‘Atta girl,” he praises again before sliding his fingers back out to the tips before thrusting back in your warm heat.

You moan, releasing your grip on his shoulder as he fucks you with his fingers. His other hand keeps you steady as he lowers you down and back just a bit, almost seated at an angle on his lap. Both of your legs are spread on either side of his hips, hand braced on the bed to keep yourself steady. Simon curls his long fingers towards himself, pressing that spongey spot that has your knees going weak.

“S-Simon,” you gasp, knees buckling inwards towards themselves.

His hand leaves your hip momentarily to push them gently back to their original position, keeping your glistening folds on display just for him. A laugh punches itself out of his chest, almost restrained. It’s a beautiful sound, one you wish you could’ve heard sooner. Simon takes the pad of his thumb and swirls it around your clit. Pleasure burning in your stomach and down your legs, you cry out, orgasm squeezing a moan out of your lungs. You tremble as it ignites your nerves, breath quickening as the pleasure wrecks your body.

He doesn’t slow his fingers, keeps milking every last drop until your body has settled. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on your skin, illuminated by the golden hues of your bedside lamp. A low whistle carries out, faintly hitting your ears as you try to push yourself back up into a sitting position. Your legs are like jelly and Simon laughs again before helping you up.

His fingers absentmindedly brush back and forth on your hip as he hums, giving you a moment to recollect yourself. Pleasure has your joints relaxed, and your hip no longer burning with discomfort. Your eyes roll languidly, almost as if floating in syrup, to meet his own. He’s watching you again, taking you all in. You try to get a good look at him - a slight furrow in his brows, almost as if he’s always in thought. The mask hides most of his face but you can tell his nose is a bit crooked - possibly broken? You fight the urge to reach out and run your fingers across the bridge. There’s a small spattering of freckles peaking out from underneath the mask and you smile.

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Beautiful,” you whisper, smiling.

He huffs out a laugh, a small smile on his lips as he shakes his head. Hesitantly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, you give it a soft squeeze before you slide your hand down his chest and over the tented part of his scrubs. His eyes follow the trail, locking onto where your hand is slowly stroking up and down his length.

A shudder of a breath leaves his lips and his eyes fall shut. Touch-starved and desperate for more, Simon restrains himself from reaching out and flipping the two of you, wanting nothing more than to have you under him. He reminds himself to be careful with you.

You slide your hand into his pants, stroking him through his boxers. He’s fucking huge, filling your hand with his girth.

“Jesus,” you huff out in astonishment, a small laugh escaping past your lips.

“Too much to handle?” he quips, peeking one eye open to look at you.

“No!” you huff, biting your lip as you try to plan on how to begin.

“Here,” Simon sighs, taking both of your hands in one of his own while he shimmies out of his scrubs.

His cock strains against the confines of his boxers for a moment before he pulls them down too, finally letting it bounce against his stomach.

He’s oversized, pretty - creamy skin with a lush pink tip. It curves to the right just a bit and is leaking from being neglected for so long. You want to bend down and have a taste, mouth watering at the thought. Simon still has your hands on his own when he settles back down. You wriggle them free, wrapping your fingers around the base and stroking slowly up to the tip.

A low rumble of pleasure starts low in his chest, so you keep going, swiping your thumb over the tip. He’s super sensitive, length twitching in your hand as you tighten your grip. Simon’s lids are half closed, watching you languidly.

His hips act on their own accord, bucking into your hand to chase more pleasure. You’re transfixed - watching over and over as he fucks into your hand. The action has you clenching around nothing, wetness creeping down your thighs again. A whine creeps up your throat and you roll your hips slowly against his clothed thigh - unable to stop yourself.

“Just can’t get enough, can you?” he laughs, the sound getting interrupted by a moan as you squeeeeze your fingers tight around the base.

“Not fair,” he wheezes softly, hips stilled for a moment.

His thigh twitches, bumping up into your pussy, causing a spark of pleasure to pull in your core. Simon moves then, pulling his mask down and smashing his lips to yours. He leads the kiss, licking into your mouth with slow swipes of his tongue. You moan into his mouth, eyes falling closed and hands coming up to rest on his forearms. He tastes like Earl Grey and lingering tobacco. Simon moves his thigh up and down, the slick from your pussy drenching his pants. You whine against his lips, hips stuttering as pleasure overcomes you yet again.

“You comin’ again?” he asks with a laugh, smirking against your lips.

Your cheeks blaze furiously, tears pricking at your eyes as you come again. Simon kisses down your neck, biting down at the soft flesh above your collarbone. His arms wrap around your back, burying his face into the crook of your neck, and begins rolling your lower half up and down, up and down as you ride out your second orgasm against his thigh. You’re gasping for air, breath stuttering as pleasure squeezes your chest. All the stress forgotten as it washes over your body. You feel euphoric, the overwhelming release causing tears to fall down your face.

Simon shushes you quietly, rubbing soothing circles into your back as you come down again.

“There you go,” he coos. “Good…so good f’me.”

You sniffle, a laugh bubbling up and over your lips.

“Should’ve called you a lot sooner,” you joke.

He laughs loudly - the melodic sound filling the air.

“Mhmm…” he agrees, placing soft kisses on your overheated skin.

You tilt your head back, allowing him more access. Soft presses of lips to skin. It lights you on fire, desire tingling down to your toes. You arch up into his touch, sighing when his large hands caress your skin.

His thumbs brush across your nipples, stiffening them into peaks.

“Needy little thing…” he murmurs, sliding his hands down to the hem of your shirt to pull it up over your head.

Your shirt lays forgotten on the edge of your bed, you, bare except for your panties. A shiver runs down your spine, the cool air biting your skin. Simon shifts slightly, wrapping his hand around his cock and brushing the velvety tip through your folds. It catches on your entrance, slowly sinking into your pussy.

You moan, breath catching in your throat. His size stretches you open, causing your thighs to shake with exertion. Simon’s slow, allowing you to adjust before sliding you down another inch. His large hands keep you steady, squeezing the fat of your hips. There’s a moment of silence and that’s when you notice you’re trembling.

“S’okay,” he soothes, rolling his hips experimentally.

The tip bumps against your cervix - a mix of pain and pleasure.

“O-Oh,” you gasp, grasping at his shoulders for leverage.

Just like earlier, he has you pinned, stuck in pleasure as he slowly thrusts up into you. Your head falls back, arching your chest forward. Simon takes this opportunity to latch his mouth over your nipple. His tongue expertly runs over the bud, stiffening it yet again into a hard peak.

The sound of your bodies meeting echoes in your small room, the smell of sex heavy in the air. You clench around his length, wanting him even closer than physically possible.

“Bunny…” he warns, nipping at your jaw.

You laugh, pleasure blurring your mind’s worry. You can feel him in every thrust, thick cock bullying its way into your cervix. Simon’s pace has picked up, a steady motion of in out in out in out. You know he’s chasing his pleasure, large hands grabbing at your body ravenously. Itching to touch every part of your body, nothing left undiscovered by him.

He flips you quickly, your mind whirling from the sudden change of position. Simon steadies your hip, still so mindful as he pushes back in, the new angle causing your toes to curl.

“Ohmygod,” you cry out, breaths punched out of your lungs with every thrust.

Simon’s pace falters, growing sloppy as he chases his release. You clench around his cock and his hips stutter.

“Don’t ya fuckin’-“ he starts before you ignore him and do it again.

He curses, hips jolting as he comes.

“Fuck,” he moans, filling your pussy full.

You whine, the feeling overwhelming as he thrusts a few more times before slowly pulling out. A mixture of slick and him leaks down your thighs, cooling in the air. You grimace, going to sit up but Simon pushes you down. He gets up, walks to your bathroom, and grabs a washcloth to run under the warm water. It feels good on your skin as he cleans you up. He then grabs your shirt, picking you up to pull it over your head before gently laying you back down.

Your breathing has started to even, eyes closed as sleep threatens to pull you away. A cold feeling on your hip has you yelping - the salve. Simon has placed a generous amount on your skin, rubbing it in gently. Your eyes crack open to peek at him, he has his mask on again and you frown slightly - sad you weren’t able to see his face.

“Rest up dove, you still owe me,” he winks, leaning over and crawling back into bed with you.

As you start to drift, Simon pulls you close to his chest, warmth causing a slight shiver as you shift to get comfortable. He pulls a blanket over the two of you, warmth breath brushing your neck. His mask off once more. You smile, eyes fluttering shut as you snuggle down into the blankets, and the thought of how you were going to explain to your friend suddenly pops up. Shit. You couldn’t hide this from her.

“What should I say if she asks?” you mumble, almost half asleep.

“Hm..?” Simon rouses, nearly dozing himself.

“What do I tell her what happened this weekend?” you ask him.

“Tell her it was an emergency,” he laughs softly, pulling you closer as he rests his face into the crook of your neck.

[eliomwah]

Sweet Nothing || Spencer Angew x F!Reader

Summary: Y/N struggles with hate comments, Spencer is there to comfort her and make her feel better.

Warning: Angst? Negative Self Talk, Crying

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: Inspired off the song "Sweet Nothing" by Taylor Swift

----- <3 -----

The comment section is never a place to look, especially when you’re already feeling bad about yourself. Normally, Y/N stays away from the comments of any video but today was different. They needed some of the crazier comments for a Smosh Pit Theatre video. As she was sifting through different videos, Y/N started seeing a lot of hate comments. Which wasn’t unusual, but there was a common theme. Most of the comments were about her. This sent her brain down a spiral of criticism and hate. She has been a cast member at Smosh for a few years now. She thought everything was going well. People laughed at her bits, she was cast in many different videos, and the fans always seemed to love her. Y/N knew hate comments were all apart of the job, but these ones were hitting close to home. All she wanted was to be apart of Smosh. She tried her best in every video, wanting to be on the same level as her fellow cast mates. She thought she was achieving that goal, but she must have been wrong.  

“Hey, you ok?” Courtney says as she walks by her desk. 

“Yeah, just lost in thought,” Y/N says, looking up at Courtney. 

Unconvinced, Courtney gives her soft smile. “If you need anything I’m always here to talk.” 

“Thanks Court. I’ll be ok. Just been a little stressed recently.” 

“Awe, sweetie. Well, tomorrow we’re playing Gentlemen’s Werewolf again, so that should be fun. And, hey, let’s go out for lunch after!” 

“Yeah, that would be wonderful!” You reply, though the idea of filming tomorrow isn’t as comforting as Courtney thinks. Hopefully lunch with one of your besties will help you get through a filming day. 

“Ok, I’m going home. Don’t stay too late tonight.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” Courtney grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze before walking towards the door. 

Y/N goes back to her laptop, staring blankly at her screen. She knows she needs to stop going through the comments, but she can’t seem to pull her eyes away. Her mind is doing crazy things. She’s needs to snap out of it. This isn’t who she is. Y/N started out as an editor and slowly they started casting her in videos. She had assumed there was a reason she was put into videos, but she guesses they just needed someone to fill as space. When they had asked her to be a full time cast member as well as an editor, Y/n was hesitant but agreed. It was going to be a lot of work, but everyone loved her in the crew videos, especially Shayne’s hide and seek video. It was during her first week on the job. She had no idea where to hide. As she was searching for a spot, she ran into her future best friend/ work crush, Spencer. He helped her come up with the idea where she was sneaking behind Shayne the whole time. Shayne was so confused and laughed hysterically once he caught her. On that day she had truly felt like she belonged at Smosh. She had been wrong. Maybe all her friends were lying to her. Maybe she isn’t as funny as everyone said. The internet is known for being brutally honest. 

Y/N’s feels her phone buzz on her desk. She turns over her phone to see a text from Spencer. 

Spence: Wanna come over? I have a pizza and game controller calling your name 

This was a little tradition for Y/N and Spencer, getting takeout and playing video games on a Friday night. Y/N and Spencer had barely talked all day. He was busy was a last-minute change to the games shoot schedule and she had been editing the new TNTL. It has been a stressful week all around. It would be nice to have a relaxing night, especially with how the last few hours have been. Spencer always made her feel better whatever the situation. 

Y/N: Only if the games Mario Party 

Spence: … 

Spence: fiiiiiiinnneeeee. I guess we can play it for the 100th time this month 

Y/N: what can I say, I just love it soooo much hehe 

Y/N: I’ll be there soon 

Y/N closes her laptop. She decides to go home and finish this assignment tomorrow. As she drives to Spencer’s house, she can’t help but think about the comments. She’s so tired of feeling like she’s not enough. Though she knows she shouldn’t care about what the internet has to say, right now it’s all she can think about. She tries to play some music to uplift her spirits. She doesn’t want to bring down the vibe with Spencer. The music doesn’t seem to help. As she walks up to Spencer’s apartment, Y/N starts to feel more insecure. Normally, Spencer makes her feel better. He always finds a way of making her laugh, making her feel safe. But what if she’s not enough for him?  

Y/N stops in front of his door. She thinks about everything she should have done by now. All the things that others have don’t that she hasn’t. She thinks about the comments and everything they said about her. For a second, she thinks about going home and wallowing in her self-hatred. Why would Spencer ever fall for someone like her? She knocks on the door. Spencer answers and before he could say anything she crashes into him and buries her head into is neck. And he lets her. She takes a deep breath and relaxes into his arms. After a while, he leads them to the couch so they can sit down. 

“What’s going on? Are you ok?” Spencer asks. He has a concerned look on his face. Y/N pauses for a second. She doesn’t want to burden Spencer with all her insecurities but the look in his eyes makes her want to explain the deepest parts of her soul. He made her feel safe. 

“I had to look though comments today, for a video, and…” Y/N starts to tear up and looks down at her lap “and I don’t know why but they really got to me and I’m trying my best but I feel like I’m not enough and…” 

Spencer interrupts. “It’s ok, it’s ok. The common section is never a good place to look. I promise you no one at Smosh thinks those things,” He pauses for a second “and I don’t think any of those things. You are one of the funniest people I get to work with each day. I look forward to shoot blocks only because I get to watch you smile and laugh and do silly little bits. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”  

He places a hand on her cheek and wipes away a tear. She looks up at him. Sitting there, Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Neither of them says anymore. Soon they start to play Mario Party and eat the pizza. They laugh and banter back and forth as they play, Spencer ultimately winning in the end. As he was beating Y/N in a mini game, she couldn’t help but feel happy. All the voices in her head telling her that she isn’t enough, all the hate and all the self-doubt, that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was Spencer. And the only thing he wanted from her was sweet nothing.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … DUMB & POETIC ♡

track eight of the short n’sweet series. pairing: dbf!johnb + reader. based loosely off the song dumb & poetic by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱

word travels fast when you’re hopelessly in love with your dads best and youngest friend.

rain was starting to spit down on the crown of your head as you marched your way up the dry grass to the chateau. a storm was headed your way, and john b was probably to give you a real earful at the fact you’d even walked here so late in the evening with a storm on the horizon but that didn’t matter. it seemed a feeble thing now, too focused on the tugging of your heart strings.

“old john b’s got himself a date.” your father had chuckled into his newspaper that morning and you froze at the sink, pouring milk into your coffee. your skin felt hot, eyes prickly.

“what?” you ask quietly, trying your hardest to sound unshaken by the news.

“the guys down at the garage stitched him up. i didn’t get involved, was too busy working but… yeah. finally getting himself out there. was wonderin’ when he might. times ticking for him.”

your milk pours over the rim of your now overflowing coffee mug and you curse, lurching to clean it up.

now you’re knocking at the older man’s door, shivering from the icy droplets that are tickling your hot skin. you feel feverish, wrong, all muddled up. john b was yours.

he’s frowning when he opens the door, and you don’t let him speak.

“is it true?” you yell over the wind, voice cracking and he pulls you inside by the arm.

“uhm, did you walk here in a storm? are you— what, have you lost your mind now?”

“is it true, john b?” you don’t lower your voice even though you’re inside now, infact your words are punctuated by a harsh shove at his chest. he stills, staring down at you solemnly and shamefully.

“i assume your…dad told you—”

“so this — us, it just means nothing to you?” you go in for another push, crying now and he catches your wrists, eyes softening sympathetically as he pulls you in.

“you know that’s not true. look, listen to me—”

“who is she?” you wail and he holds your wrists tighter.

“listen to me!” he raises his weathered brow, hands loosening around your wrists just enough to swipe his fingers gently in windscreen wipers on the skin. you stare up at him expectedly — fat tears even frozen on your cheeks and his shoulders drop slightly. how was he meant to compete? it wasn’t fair when you looked at him like that. “the guys at the garage set me up.” he explains calmly and you’re quick to cut him off.

“and you agreed! you could have just said—”

“i have to! okay i—” he takes a breath, ripping his fisherman cap off to run a hand through matted brown hair, streaks of silvery grey through the sides illuminated in the warm orangey light of the chateau that made your heart clench with fondness and familiarity. “its not right that i’m feeling this way for someone so much younger than me, and more importantly — it’s not right that you’re dating someone so much older! you should… i don’t know, be out there! experiencing the dating pool! going on dates with guys that are allowed to be seen with you! not… your dads friend.” he shakes his head, defeated.

“i don’t care about all that!” you step up to him, a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“well i do!” he bellows back, and just like that it dies.

you crumple, heels of your hands coming to press into your eyes as you lower yourself to the floor. you mewl in devastation, salty tears burning into your retinas and he watches in heartbreak, heaving out a long sigh before lowering himself to the floor with you.

“its not fair! its not fair— just because shes older than me doesn’t mean — it doesn’t —”

“i know.” he mutters into your hairline, pressing a kiss there. you clutch his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you tied down gravitationally to earth.

you get real worked up into hysterics so soon he’s calming you down the only way he knows how, straw-feeding you water as you sit in his bed wearing his clothes, still snivelling. he shuffles in beside you with a book, pulling your head to rest down on his shoulder and shushing you when you fight.

“you think y’know everything john b.” you croak, glaring at the dumb pretentious poetry book on his lap.

he clears his throat, flipping to a random page.

“though the night was made for loving, and the day returns too soon, yet we'll go no more a roving, by the light of the moon—” his husky voice begins to read, lulling you into that calm safe space that only he creates. there’s a lingering sadness in your chest when you drift off, knowing it could be the last time and between his words you’re sure you whisper a “dont go”. but you’re not sure whether or not you dreamt it.

you wake up at noon somehow. all that crying wore you out and it goes without saying with the situation you’re in, you didn’t have the greatest sleeping pattern. sticky eyes flutter from the alarm clock, to the absence of john b in his own bed beside you. you hope for the reassuring sound of coffee being stirred or the tv in the living room but the chateau is deathly quiet. once your eyes focus, you’re confronted with a note on the bed side table.

his familiar scrawl, it reads —

‘I’m sorry. I just have to see for myself.

— Yours, J.B ♡’

[yolli-es]

That was the last time

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, mental issues, mentions of blood, selfharm

At the request of one of the readers. I find this idea interesting. Also, I think you're already tired of my headcanons, so I wrote the text :3 I hope I was able to convey to you the idea I was thinking while typing this.

Jinx was sitting in her workshop, working on her bombs as usual. Before meeting you, Jinx never worried about time. Spending the entire night creating a useless trinket was not a problem for her. But not now. On the walls, on the table, on the floor, and even on the couch. Watches are everywhere, so Jinx always keeps track of time. It also helped her get into the habit of checking her watch. She did it again, as she had done many times before, when she suddenly realized that it was well past midnight and you were still not with her. She actually hasn't seen you for a little over two hours. Jinx breaks out in a cold sweat, and her body trembles. The realization made her jump and immediately run out into the street in search of you. In her head, Mylo and Claggor immediately started suggesting the worst-case scenarios. But now was not the time to panic; Jinx had to be stronger than them now. She knew without Mylo that you were probably in a terrible situation right now. You couldn't do something stupid again, could you? It could be fatal. And it will be her fault. Again. 

"It's your fault now."  

"Shut up, Mylo."  

When you officially started your relationship, Jinx knew it would be a hard and challenging time for the two of you, but she never realized how hard. 

Jinx ran and ran, knowing exactly where you were and what you were probably doing. You left "on business" a couple of hours ago, and she was only now thinking about the real reason. "I'm disgusting, disgusting, just useless," was going through Jinx's head over and over. It was too obvious; how could she miss it? The way you looked, the way you trembled and blinked awkwardly at her questions. It was so obvious this morning. You thought about it all day, fought with yourself, and she just did nothing; as always, she couldn't help. No, she just didn't want to. Mylo was destroying her for it right now, making her cry but not stop. She fought with her mind and thoughts just to get to the decrepit factory with only two floors. It's too old to use, but also too expensive to just tear down. It's just that no one needs it. That's why you're so drawn there? 

It took her another two miserable minutes to reach the farthest room on the second floor. It was dark, but the light from the lantern came through the right window, giving Jinx a chance to see the basics of the place. There was a complete mess around you—a bunch of paper, candles, and some junk. And you were lying on the floor, holding your knees with your back to Jinx. The air was heavy, the atmosphere oppressive, and only the sound of your breathing in the complete silence allowed Jinx to relax a little. 

Hey, Toots—Jinx began, walking up to you slowly, trying to catch her breath,—You didn't do anything wrong, did you? You didn't have to run away from me. 

You didn't answer, although you were startled by her sudden presence. You must have been too desperate and decided that she would never come.

—She’s become so persistent today—you answered very quietly, sometimes forgetting to breathe and simply suffocating—I just couldn't resist.

Jinx was finally close enough to see the small blood stains just inches away from you. Damn. She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into tears and become hysterical.

Unfortunately, Jinx wasn't the only one who suffered from voices in her head. However, while she had Claggor with his comforting words and encouraging words, you were all alone. Just you and "Alice," as you called her. A girl with long, white hair, always hiding her face, and significantly shorter than you. She had a sweet voice but cruel words. Alice hated you and longed to take your place. Because she was better. You described her so realistically, truly believing in her existence. Jinx realized that Alice was only in your head when you suddenly ran away from her in the middle of a conversation. Jinx asked you about it later, and you said that Alice took you away then.

Jinx understood you like no one else, so your peculiarity was not a problem for her. Until Alice began to cross the line and deliberately suppress your personality along with your body. At first, you behaved aloofly, often not hearing Jinx and awkwardly asking to repeat herself. Then you became irritable, and only after that Jinx found out about your cuts, which you did yourself. "Alice made me," is what you answered. Jinx tried to act radically, constantly repeating that it was only in your head and self-harm was just crazy. You almost broke up then. You were so angry and upset, screaming and tearing your hair out. And then you suddenly went silent and ran out of the workshop, leaving her alone. If Jinx hadn't decided to follow you then...

Enough time has passed since that incident that Jinx swore to herself never to make you feel so insecure and misunderstood again. But then she did it again yesterday afternoon. She's sorry, but you just crossed the line. Then she spent the whole day with you just to make sure you were safe.

And now she has to bear the consequences of her actions. And it's just unbearable. You look sick, almost dead.

It doesn't take long for Jinx to fly up to you and gently flip your body over. Your eyes are closed, your body is shaking, your hands are weakly clinging to her hand, and, worst of all, this time you went too far and cut your legs. Your arms were hurt too, even more than usual this time. One of the cuts was so deep that Jinx thought she could see the bone. It looked disgusting and simply awful, but Jinx was tormented only by fear and sadness. Your clothes were covered in blood, some of them torn into shreds and clumsily tied around your arm and leg. Maybe Alice had left at some point and the will to live had returned to you. But it was too late, and you didn't have the strength to help yourself.

What have you done?—Jinx sobbed, no longer able to hold on. Nothing matters now; there's only you and her. Fighting, voices, work, and everything else just don't matter.

Sorry—was all you could say before falling into a deep sleep. Now that Jinx is finally here, you are safe. Alice can't hurt you, definitely not now.

Jinx pulled you out of there as if in a fog. The street, the alleys, the workshop, the search for Shimmer, and, finally, salvation. Yes, Shimmer did a good job of coping with your suicidal antics, but alas, the scars remained. Jinx blames herself for all of this. She saw your condition, knew about your thoughts, and still did nothing. Even when your worsening condition was her fault. She is too busy with her own problems; Mylo and Claggor constantly put pressure on her. You cannot be a support for her, just as she cannot be for you. But she still does not give up trying to be there with you. Jinx still loves you too much to leave you, but not enough to focus on your problem.

Sure, you'll wake up in a couple of hours. You'll apologize with tears in your eyes, and Jinx will do the same. You'll live in harmony for another week, and then Alice will come back.

Jinx promises herself to be better, for the tenth time. Perhaps this situation taught two of you a lesson, and now you will support each other? Who knows.

I'm going back to yandere requests, I hope you're happy about it 🤭🥴

[meo-eiru]

don’t mind me as I write a little fanfic in your asks (I have not written anything since I was 12 so bare with me 🙏🏽)

Elias x Yandere Reader

tw: self harm, unhealthy relationship, slight nsfw, biting, desperation.

——————————————————————————————————

To say the least you and Elias were considered a power couple by the masses, a fair skinned model and a well dressed business woman/man that spoiled Elias rotten, beautiful luxury home, travelling, hotels, fancy food, galas, I mean who wouldn’t wanna be you two?

But behind closed doors things were a completely different story Elias was an insecure wreck needing your attention and spoiling just so he doesn’t go totally insane yet for you, you always feel like nothing you do is good enough unless it’s to make someone feel good and that someone is Elias who you constantly shower constantly shower in attention.

You and Elias were the unhealthiest for each other, anytime Elias even suspected your attention was slipping he would cry hysterically to guilt trip you or sometimes threaten to hurt himself with knives, jumping off the window on the third floor, etc.

your not really any better since you would start arguments for small things, smash things around the house any time you got angry, you would have violent thoughts for people who even glanced in elias’s direction and sometimes you would act on those thoughts.

And yet.. you two are inseparable, your horrible for each other yet also a perfect fit because no one else would be able to satiate either of your needs or wants, you crave each other in the worst and best ways possible that no other would be able to handle.

no one would be able to satisfy Elias better then you can, your soft kisses, your tender touches, your eyes that could make anyone buckle, Elias is your everything and you are his and you make sure to make that very clear every night you spend together.

(Sorry if it’s a little rushed or messy, I tried to make it a little accurate to Elias’s character 🥲)

This is what people mean when they say "match made in hell"

You two are so toxic to the point it kinda cancels itself out when you're together, truly incredible.

This is quite a fun approach to take with you two's relationship, I've seen some other people coming up with similar concepts too. I really like it because the "rich and powerful y/n" really adds to the emotional power imbalance with Elias. Yes he's getting spoiled but technically he's in an even lower status in the relationship, which only adds to the "just a pretty face, trophy bf" aspects of his character

[xmads-omensx]

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

CW: sad, angst, comforting Noah, crying, swearing

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @tosoundlessdarkistare @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986  @dominuslunae @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @overmydeadbodysblog @illmakeyousaywow @dsireland86 @missduffsblog  @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess @athenexe @anything-more-than-human @oobleoob @dollieomens @astronoids @pipidoll

The party was lively as people mingled and hung out, celebrating their friendship with Nicholas and his wife Marisa, reminiscing over their memories.

Matt stood with his girlfriend Meghan as they chatted to Jesse about the last tour that ERRA went on.

Nicholas was stood with Jolly and Noah, just chatting away about a video game or something, but something seemed off.

In fact, something had seemed off the whole night, you just couldn't pinpoint it.

If you were being honest, something had been different since the moment that Nicholas announced that he was moving to the other side of the country with Marisa.

The party took a lot of careful planning as it had to fit in with everyone's busy schedules and take place before the move.

So there you were, standing in your living room with Alana as Josh talked about some weird ass meme he found that the three of you thought was hysterical.

The party came to an end at around ten that evening since Marisa and Nicholas had to leave relatively early the next day.

Everyone said their goodbyes, leaving you and Noah alone in your home.

It got very silent very quickly.

The two of you went about tidying up the mess from the party before heading up to bed.

You worked in a comfortable silence as you did so.

Eventually, Noah excused himself to go to bed since he was exhausted, leaving you to finish up cleaning, which you didn't mind in the slightest.

Once you were done, you headed upstairs and into your bedroom which was pitch black. You presumed Noah had already gone to sleep so you snuck into the ensuite bathroom and changed into one of Noah's shirts and carried out your nightly routine.

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard it.

The unmistakable sound of sniffling and suppressed cries filled the space.

You could just make out Noah's large form underneath the covers, shaking ever so slightly. His body tense as if he were channelling all his energy into holding back tears.

"Baby?" You whispered, only for Noah to not reply.

You tried again, louder this time as you walked closer to the bed.

Sitting on the edge of it, you reached over and places your hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling him tense up beneath your touch.

"Shhh it's okay. I'm here. Just let it out, I've got you." You whispered, stroking his bare arm comfortingly.

That's when the damn broke.

Noah began to sob as he curled up into a ball, letting every ounce of pain in his body out as the bed itself shook with his sobs.

"You're okay." You assured him, over and over again until his sobs began to lessen.

A broken whisper shattered the space.

"I didn't want him to leave." Noah whispered, his voice hoarse from crying.

Then, your heart shattered.

"Oh Noah." You cooed, pulling his body into yours, his head finding natural purchase on your chest as he burrowed into you, desperate for warmth and comfort.

He began to cry again, the pain and agony of his best friend leaving him shattering his heart.

"You can visit him. Or he can come here." You said softly.

"It's not the same." Noah whispered. "He's always been right there, you know? When we were kids, he was right around the corner. We lived together when Bad Omens was starting out. I've never been this far away from him before."

"It's hard saying goodbye, but you'll always have eachother." You continued to reassure your boyfriend.

"I'm scared." Noah whispered.

"Of what baby?" You asked.

"What if he forgets me?" His voice was barely audible, so silent that you could heart your own heart break.

"Oh Noah." You replied, eyes tearing up at your boyfriend's distress. "He could never forget you."

"Promise?" Noah whispered.

"Pinkie promise." You replied, holding your pinkie out to him.

He laughed and interlinked his pinkie with your own before wrapping his arm back around you and pulling you close.

You kissed his head and whispered a quiet "I love you."

But Noah's snores told you all you needed to know.

Your heart broke for him, but you knew he would be okay.

[de4dlyniightshade]

can you do pregnant reader gets angry at post prison reid and baby reid for a stupid reason

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: none

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: none besides mild arguing but not really

A/N: idk how both scenarios ended up with both crying

- post prison reid:

"hey, spence could you come help me move this table?" you called to him as he sat on your shared sofa, book in hand as you put away and organised your little book corner on your own, already mildly annoyed that he hadn't offered to help or put away the books he'd taken out.

"yeah, could it wait 'til i finish this chapter?" his tone was more like he was telling you to wait rather than asking you(to your pregnant mind), which set you off, letting out an irritated sigh as you unceremoniously dropped the book you were holding onto said table, the hard cover creating a loud bang that startled him, his head whipping around in confusion.

"doesn't matter." you huffed, walking away from the table to head to your bedroom, spencer jumping from his seat at your change in demeanour.

"no no, i'll help, sorry" he apologised but you were already on a roll, you'd set your mind to it and that table was staying where it was.

"oh so now you wanna help?" you snapped, turning to glare at him, his wide eyes looking back at you, slightly hurt at your outburst and your bitter tone and he suddenly felt a lump in his throat, you'd never been so hostile with him before and it hurt.

"i-i'm sorry if i- if i did something wrong, please don't be mad at me" he spoke meekly, his voice cracking as he did, lip quivering slightly as he avoided your eyes.

the sight of him upset at your words made your emotions go into overdrive, tears spilling over your waterline almost immediately as you began sobbing hysterically, spencer's eyes becoming massive as he rushed to your side, placing his hand on your back as you stood double over, sobs wracking your body as you spoke nonsense, not a single word intelligible and then spencer understood.

"oh...oh! come on, sit down, shh shh" he spoke softly as he guided you to the sofa to sit down, rubbing your aching back before he quickly fetched you a glass of water, bringing it to and crouching down in front of you as he urged it into your hands.

"just breathe, sweetie" he murmured, rubbing your knee soothingly as you took big gulps of water, taking a few good deep breaths when you were finished.

"that's it, just breathe" spencer encouraged, offering you a sympathetic smile as your breathing evened out eventually, guilt now filling your chest at the realisation of what you did.

"i-i'm so sorry i- i don't know-" you tried to explain, spencer just shushing you and shaking his head, "don't be sorry, it's not your fault, now, you still want that table moved?" he asked sweetly, making you giggle at what silly thing had started the whole argument as you nodded.

- baby reid:

"spence?" you said quietly as you knocked lightly on his office door, not getting a reply back so you peeked in to see him with his nose buried in a file, clearly not having heard you the first time you called his name again, this time louder, nothing.

"spencer." you said more sternly, not taking too kindly to being ignored and when he didn't reply a third time you snapped, turning on your heels and slamming the door so hard you were surprised the whole building didn't shake, which for sure had his attention now.

"i was listening" he said as he opened the door to see you throwing yourself down on the couch in anger, faced away from him to further show how mad you were.

"yeah well try actually acknowledging me." you seethed, not even looking in his direction as you spoke but you could practically feel his puppy eyes in the back of your head and it took all your will not to turn around.

"i-i was just...busy" he spoke quietly, trying to explain himself to a very emotional, very pregnant woman, which was almost impossible, there was no right answer.

"what a surprise." you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes even though he couldn't see you, your tone making his chest tighten with something he hadn't felt before, a dull pain in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back his tears and failed.

"i-i'm sorry" was all he could get out before he got completely choked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as his lip quivered uncontrollably.

the sound of his voice so hurt made you instantly realise your mistake, bringing your hand to your mouth as you turned to see him at the door of his office, fidgeting with his hands as he looked at the floor, his shoulders twitching as he let out silent sobs.

"spencer i'm- i- i didn't mean it" you stuttered as you stood from the couch and made quick strides to him, your heart breaking a little more as he looked up at you with his teary eyes and wet cheeks.

"y-you've never yelled at me before" he whimpered, looking away from you as more tears fell from his eyes and suddenly there were tears streaming down yours too as you pulled him into your arms.

"i'm so sorry, baby, i-i'm just really emotional right now, i'm sorry i took it out on you" you explained softly as you ran your hands up and down his back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck.

"wh-what did you want to ask me?" he finally said after a few moment of silence, making you remember that you went into his office for a reason, which you then realised was completely stupid and you had to tell him why you got so mad.

"uhm i was gonna ask...if you wanted to go get ice cream" you winced at having to admit it, spencer going silent for a moment before he started giggling into your neck, pulling away to shake his head at you as he continued laughing, "it's not funny!" you scolded, scowling at him.

"i know, i know! i'll get my jacket" he said, holding his hands up in surrender but still laughing to himself.

[humpster35]

I’m better off alone.

| Contains: Toxic!reader x Bf!Chris

|Tw: manipulation, arguing, crying and mention of cheating.

Today started like any other regular day for Chris. The same argument spewed from a tiny question. “Where did you go last night?” Y/n knew that Chris kind of knew what was going on, but she didn’t give him any leads.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Chris.” Y/n shrugged her arms annoyed. Chris sighed and looked at her.

“Yea well I fucking texted Matt and asked him to see if you had talked to Nick and he didn’t even respond.”

“Why would you text Matt?”

“Because you two are fucking close. I don’t know I thought maybe he’d know.”

The unamused expression written across Y/n’s face told him all he needed to know. She didn’t care that he was worried about her or who she was potentially going to see, she only cared about if the jewelry he bought her looked good. Chris watched as Y/n started putting on the jewelry, standing a few feet away from his was this girl who he used to take on late date nights. Was the girl he once knew, gone?

“Babe. Just tell me where you go okay? I can’t keep making plans for us to hang out at night and then you texting me five—.”

Y/n cut him off.

“—Five minutes later and saying i’m busy.”

The girl sighed before gently grabbing Chris’s hands. In Y/n’s mind, Chris was pathetic. He had turned into this soft guy who never grabbed what he wanted. All he did now was complain and critique.

“Chris listen okay?”

Chris nodded and took a breath. Y/n always knew how to get in his head, she was his own personal lighthouse. As she started talking he could barely understand a word that she said, because he had just noticed a huge purple hickey on her neck.

“What the fuck is that?” Chris snatched his hands back and pointed two fingers at her neck.

“Chris okay first of all don’t touch me like that—.”

Chris ignored her and tapped at the hickey. The two fingers pressing deeper as began to speak.

“Nah. You’re not answering the question. Why the fuck is there a hickey on your neck?” Y/n rolled her eyes and grabbed his two fingers. She slowly inserted them inside of her mouth so now it looked like Chris was holding a gun into it.

“Y/n this isn’t some fucking game. Who have you been fucking?” Retracting his fingers, Chris shot daggers into Y/n. He felt disgusted and betrayed knowing that the girl he loved was out and maybe even under some other dude.

“Is it Matt?” Chris blankly asked.

Y/n blushed as she stared at Chris in shock.

With pursed lips Y/n looked down and started messing with the necklace around her. Chris didn’t say anything for a minute as the two stood in an uncomfortable silence. There was clearly a shift happening. Chris walked over to the bed and sat down.

Y/n watched in shock as Chris began crying and clutching at his chest. She knew that he loved her but she didn’t think this would affect him this much. While her mind was processing the scene in front of her, the instant moving of her feet guiding her right at his side.

“Chris please stop crying. I’m sorry i’m sorry.” Y/n started to cry herself as the hiccups of Chris became louder and his once pale face, had now turned into a deep reddish hue. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking.

“Please i’m so sorry forgive me. I love you so much. We didn’t have sex, I just kissed him.”

Chris’s hand grasped at his shirt not trying to tear it off but as if he was trying to rip his own heart out. This is a feeling Chris has dealt with before, having already fallen in love with three people before Y/n. This time was supposed to be different. Why couldn’t he satisfy her? Did he even make her happy? These thoughts swirled in his mind as Y/n repeatedly apologized and kissed at his lips.

“Chris please answer me. I never wanted to hurt you. I love yo—.”

“Don’t say that. DONT FUCKING SAY THAT Y/n.” Chris yelled hysterically. His hands gently pushed away y/n. He shakes his head and grabs her face, pulling it closer before he began speaking.

“Did you always feel this way about Matt?” The tears poured out of his crystal blue eyes like a waterfall and his bottom lip began to twitch.

“Y/n I loved you. I still love—.” Chris hiccuped and whimpered looking away for a bit.

“Do you love him?”

Y/n breathlessly stared back at him. She knew that she fucked up. Before she could respond the girl looked down at Chris’s hand as he pulled out a tiny box from his left pocket.

“Oh no.” Was all Y/n could say as she watched Chris calm his breathing down before speaking.

“You know, tonight was gonna be the night that I would propose.” Chris chuckled dryly. “It would’ve been perfect yk? I would have Nick decorate the restaurant and I even hired your favorite singer to come just to serenade you.”

Y/n nodded while stroking his hair. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Chris you can still do all of that. This means nothing, you know my heart resides with you.” Chris let y/n kiss him again. The feeling of his plump lips against his felt like the coldness of winter.

“Y/n you kissed my brother. YOU DONT FUCKING CARE ABOUT ME. ABOUT US!”

Y/n was quiet as she into his eyes. The same eyes his brother had and for some reason she didn’t understand why she couldn’t feel the way she does with Matt.

“This would mean nothing.” Chris looked down at the box. It held a most beautiful diamond studded ring. The sparkle of the tiny diamonds only shined through the eyes of his lover who he just found out cheated. But when he looked at her, his heart couldn’t help but feel full. Chris knew it would be hard to let y/n go.

Maybe it was because he didn’t truly know how life would be if he did. Maybe Chris just wanted to pretend that none of this even happened. He saw nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.

“Y/n, i’m scared.” Chris confessed as y/n wiped the tears from his eyes. The look in her face was one that only an angel could make. His breathing calmed down as she pulled him in.

“Chris, what we’ve built is worth more than a kiss. I thought you would love me no matter what.” Y/n got up and started to walk to the other side of the room.

“Y/n wait. I do love you. But you kissed Matt-.”

“So what Chris? So fucking what. I kissed Matt. It was a mistake and didn’t mean anything. You’ve always known how he’s been flirting with me. It’s not my fault if he kissed me.”

“But you kissed him back-.”

“No. Chris. I didn’t realize what was happening until it happened.”

Chris got silent and remembered all the times that Matt would ask to drive y/n places even though he had a car. Matt would tell Chris to “calm down” because he would never do that to his own brother.

“You can’t just show me an engagement ring and expect me to not wanna be with you.” Y/n angrily ranted while on the verge of tears. Her feelings had been hurt at the idea of Chris leaving her for someone else and seeing his new girl wearing the same ring that he once promised to her.

Chris stared into y/n’s hurt eyes. Maybe he was blaming the wrong person here. Y/n did always love Chris and even roasted Matt when they would all hang out.

“Y/n i’m not gonna leave you.”

She stopped crying.

“I’ll forgive you. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions so fast. It doesn’t make what you did anymore right. I just need some time to process all of this.” Chris said softly. He never wanted to make Y/n feel bad. The tears couldn’t stop coming though. This feeling of pain lingered in his chest, he knew that what she did was wrong but he just couldn’t let her leave him.

“Chris. Thank you baby.” Y/n kissed him and helped wipe his tears. She smiled softly with her arms around him.

“Okay im gonna go get dressed. We have to celebrate okay?” Y/n said to Chris as she looked up to him.

Chris nodded and sniffled. He wiped his eyes and sat back down on the bed. The suit had now looked as if he was forced to wear it. This night has lost its meaning.

In the bathroom as Y/n got ready she thought about today’s earlier events. The smell of Matt’s cologne lingered in her nose as she held up one of Chris’s shirts. She missed him. The kiss had been an accident on her part yes, but the two knew that the feelings were always there. Maybe it just wasn’t well hidden as they thought.

tag list:

@hannahsturniolo @passionfruitchris @chrissonnyangel @chrissleftshoe @chrissturnioloslvt @lifecansmd

[lace-coffin]

Hello! Could you please write something about The Collector (Asa Emory) who falls madly in love with fem!reader who lives a very lonely life? At first the man begins to stalk the reader, but one day he still decides to kidnap her and brings her to his den in order to give her a happy life that she truly deserves. Thank you so much!🦋🌺💖

Asa Emory x lonely!fem!reader

Requests are open!

I really hope you like this! Thank you a bunch for the request I love writing for this silly little guy !

You could try convince yourself that your life wasn’t mundane but…let’s be honest. It’s the same in and out, wake up, drag yourself to uni running on a cup of shitty instant coffee, try keep your eyes open and focus on said lecture, grab something quick to eat on the way home and then rot in bed until it’s time to sleep and start the cycle all over again.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends, well not many but that’s beyond the point. You just don’t see each other much, always busy with university or work, god knows you don’t have the energy to meet up on your free days anyway. Keeping up relationships was always a struggle for you and it felt easier to just quietly drift.

Despite this you still get lonely, it can be an isolating existence when the only people you interact with daily are your lecturer and maybe the shop staff. Unfortunately narrating to yourself at home doesn’t count as company.

Little did you know that your lecturer had taken interest in you, he didn’t really have reason to in your mind, but to Asa you were different, reclusive and usually quiet, didn’t answer many questions but usually knew the answers when asked.

You stood out to him despite your best efforts to blend into the background noise of the class. Asa loves to dissect people like you, he finds there’s often more under the surface than you expect, maybe a reason for their timidness, or an unexpected shady social life. This is why Asa is currently keeping a good distance between you as you go about your day, lurking just far enough as not to raise suspicion but close enough to study you like a bug under a lens.

This was not the case for you. Asa couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, instead of some shady back alley business or home drama he just witnessed a depressingly mundane day. Maybe you would meet a friend after uni? Maybe you would come home to a lover? Maybe you would have a fun hobby? None of those things.

Asa watched through the blinds as you sling a microwave meal in and slouch at the table, resting your head on the cheap wooden surface and groaning in defeat. To be honest Asa was bored out of his mind, having been trailing you for the entire evening and witnessing nothing of interest. After you lay in bed and start having some kind of breakdown, Asa thinks he’s seen enough, deciding to leave.

Later in the evening Asa can’t stop wondering about you, surely you can’t be content living like that, a young women like you should be in your prime years, eating at cute cafe’s with your friends and partying on the weekends, right? At least that’s what Asa thinks the 20 somethings are doing these days, he’s to old for this.

This won’t do, it’s not like you’re an unpleasant person, always an angel in his lectures but keeping to yourself, the way you move to put your hand up to answer questions but pull it back in shyness is endearing to Asa. Sometimes he asks you anyway because he feels you deserve to be heard.

After a few weeks and a couple more days of watching you, you wake up contorted into a box. Fantastic. You go through the motions as all captives do, the hysterics, crying, pleading, fighting and bolting. Usually this part is the most inconvenient for Asa. He’s never threatened by it, knowing well that he’s the one in control. With you he can’t help but want to coo and tell you everything will be ok if you’re good for him. Maybe he’s getting soft. Or maybe you just have that effect on him.

Time passes, a few months maybe, and things are better. Your body has softened out a little from your masters insistence on you eating good balanced food, a healthy glow in your cheeks and a little extra fat on your curves. You still attend lectures at the uni only now you’re arriving with Asa and parting ways until class starts, not wanting to raise any suspicion. It turns out it’s a lot more helpful to just have your tutor at home if you get stuck with work, Asa loves teaching you anyway, getting to talk about his special interest to his favourite pet? Beautiful.

On your free days you visit restaurants and events together, the way your face lights up when you try a new yummy food or find a cute trinket tugs at your owner’s heart. Sometimes you think about how you could just run now and not look back, easily lost in the sea of people at the market, however the idea no longer appeals like it did months ago. Given the choice you wouldn’t want to leave anyway, tied to your master so deeply by now. Call it love or Stockholm syndrome, you don’t care anymore, your days finally feel more like a new opportunity and not a burden. You look forward to weekends again, Asa jokes an old man like him isn’t the best company but you wouldn’t want to spend the time with anyone else.

This is how it should be, how it should’ve always been. Asa thinks, as he unclasps your collar for the night. enjoying the pleasant hum you let out as he massages your neckline, rubbing his coarse hands over it gently, tracing the faint red lines the display of his ownership left behind. “Let’s get you to bed cricket” Asa says softly, scooping you up and depositing you onto your shared king bed. You waste no time in snuggling into his soft fuzzy tummy once he’s stripped off his day clothes and settled into bed. With one last chaste kiss to the forehead Asa leans over and turns off the lamp, draping his arms over you. “Goodnight cricket, I love you” “night sir, love u” you mumble back, already half asleep.

[froggybrainz]

Don't mind me. I just felt like posting alil teaser for my fic. Sorry if it's bad, it's my first one.... Just letting yall know that this one isn't a y/n kind of fic but a world building one for my ocs....

The steps gave way to a slight creak as I made my way up to the front door, a soft glow eliminated from the curtains suggest that I might not be the only one up. My keys jingle together as I push the door open as I am now met by my mom still in her robe.

“Oh! Alex….you scared me!...”She jumped.

“...hi mom…”, I yawned, kicking my boots off to the side. A sign of relief was heard as she sat back down in her chair.

“Well don't you just look lively tonight Alex… another long night at work?” she joked before taking another sip of her coffee. I do nothing but smile at her and continue my journey to my room.

She's up earlier than usual, I thought to myself, hmmm…Matter of fact she's up 2 hours early! The kitchen clock read the time, 1:34am normally she doesn't get up for work till a whopping 3:30am! A restless night it seems ....Then again She's always been that way from what I remember, from one doctor's appointment to another just to find out the last pill doesn't work anymore!

“I guess that just leaves me with more time to watch my shows!”, she'll always say. Insomnia oh what a real pain in the ass…

“Oh Alex by the way don't forget that i'll be working later today and make sure you wake your brother up for school, I don't feel like getting another call from the office saying that he's been skipping again…”.

“Hmhmm…”, I mumbled, making my way up the stairs, my feet getting heavier the closer I got to my bed.

The storm had luckily held off long enough for me to make it home before it let loose, the sound of the rain rhythmically tapping my window soothed my mind and helped eased me to sleep.

Finally…

It was a busy day at the dinner, as both familiar and new faces filled the booths with bustling energy. The same old couple ordered their usual early bird special while a group of friends pick and poke at each other about a guy the one has been thinking about. It's been a good day.

Making my rounds through the dinner I stopped by the old couples booth to refill their drinks. With a soft smile and a gesture I began to pour them some more tea when I got a whiff of something rotten… Assaulted by the smell…I gag…

“...sorry I don't mean nothing by it…it's just that…”, I said apologetically, lifting my head.

The pitcher fell to the floor as I stumbled backwards away from the sight. The once lively couple now a sight only a psychiatric patient would imagine. Teeth…so many teeth…. They seemed to be joined at the waist like some monster from the movie The Thing. The smell was horrendous….

Backing away, I seemed to have stepped in something…chunky…slowly my eyes down to what I just put my foot in and in all my life I've never ran faster. The whole dinner seemed to be covered in what used to be the dear customers. Entrails to torn clothing it was EVERYWHERE….

Hyperventilating, I crammed myself under the counter like a child hiding from the boogieman. The sound of hysterical laughter started to cry out from behind the counter as the whole dinner was laughing at me ... .they were mocking me….

“NO …N-NO… STOP THIS!!!” I cried out, my head tucked between my legs. The masses continued their chorus of demonic laughter before uniting into a singular male voice.

“....ALEX….”

My blood froze, I couldn't tell if I wanted to look at it or if it was making me. Taking in what felt like it could have been my last breath, I looked up.

*BEEP!

*BEEP!

*BE-...

It was just another dream….Just another damn dream….

Side note: so imma do arcs for each oc I have, so don't worry, not everyone will be based around Alex. The next one I'll work on after this one is complete is "Hippies and Cowboys" (yes, like the song) for Willie and Frankie. This one is called "Dream Walker," and it's gonna be based around Jack and Alex. Plus, Bernie will be in it, too.

Overall, my au is gonna be called "IT Stalks," so i hope some will like it....

[weebsinstash]

I have some more ideas, observations, and thoughts to drop before Hazbin is officially here tomorrow!

-Vox's blue fingertips are sharp metal claws and they make audible clinking noises when he touches certain things with them. It makes me curious about the composition of his body but... nice detail

-oh so you're telling me Vox can enter security cameras and warp around and also teleport short distances like he's Tracer, ok, ok, he definitely is primo stalker material, you could literally have this man warp to your location if he really really wanted to find you

-seeing Vox handle Valentino and know how to calm him down (which was kinda sexy ngl) gives me big BIG "Vox would want to keep you for himself but if you ever run away or threaten to leave him he'll threaten to bring Val into the mix to intimidate you into obedience" vibes. You're halfway down the block from like escaping out a window and suddenly your phone turns itself on and you hear Vox say "Valentino is still asleep. If i dont see you don't turn around in 5 seconds I'm gonna wake him up and he's going to be REAL hungover while I tell him you left" and you do a u-turn on the sidewalk right then and there because, Vox might take away privileges and confine you, but Val is the one who's more likely to get physically violent or at the very least yell and scream at you

-ughhhh I just really like the idea of Reader actually getting to be like his platonic friend or secret crush and you're running around as like either his own PA or even his co-host and, you're just a positive influence in his life, he likes you, spending time with you, like you guys hang out outside of work, and eventually having you hang around so much catches Val's eye. He sees Vox talk casually to you and suddenly is overwhelmed with curiosity on who tf you are and is maybe a little jealous his man seems more than comfortable around you

honestly just platonic/genuinely cares for you yandere Vox who hides you away from Valentino when our favorite moth starts being a creep. You tell Vox ONE TIME that Val cracked a joke about you throwing neck for him when your boss left the room and Vox is sure never to leave you alone with Val ever again

-I just see like in some noncon poly scenario where you get passed between them like a blunt that there would still be hard lines Vox hopefullyyy wouldn't let Val cross? Like you start hysterically crying one day, "do YOU think I'm ugly Vox?!" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Val wants me to have cosmetic surgery! He gave me a list of all the work he wants to have done!" and you hand him like a literal actual list in very familiar pink handwriting and here's Vox, forcing a smile, "hm! Gonna be right back!" and he leaves the room and like in 10 seconds flat you hear them roaring at each other from the other side of the house and Vox zooms back, "hey, great news! You aren't having surgery" and it's never brought up again

-also as an end note. Reader who winds up having the same body type as one of Velvet's models and she snags you from Vox or Valentino one day to have you try on something and you become her like. Her new favorite little pincushion she likes to try new ideas on. You're just minding your own business and she's barging into the room with sudden inspiration and she's, doing her little finger waggle and changing your clothes without your consent, potentially making you half naked or explicitly dressed in front of your male companions or anyone else around

I'm just definitely looking to watching the show and seeing more of everyone in full ^^