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aprendimos-el-idioma-del-amor · 1 year ago

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Chenford + why did you date Ashley?

This was fun to write. This is Tim and Lucy dating and also one of my headcanon of what kind of date they would be going on. I hope you like this.

Love will take you high and we'll be sitting on top of the world

“There you are,” Tim heard Lucy and turned around to the sound of her voice, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

They were standing in the bullpen, most people were on patrol so there weren’t many people there.

Tim’s face instantly softened as he saw her and he smiled at her. He rested his hands on his duty belt, he went on patrol day to make sure he was first at the scene whenever they got close to the man they were looking for with Metro.

“Hey, what’s up?” he said in greeting.

“I just came here to tell you that you have to keep your evening open,” she said with an excited smile. She was ready to surprise him big time.

“You know I can’t,” he explained with a frown, “There’s a game on tonight.”

“Will you please come with me?” she gave him a smile and rested her hand on his arm, “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

Tim sighed, knowing very well he can’t say no to her. He shook his head in resignation.

“Fine but it better be good,” he looked stern at her but he softened once he saw her smile widen.

“Isn’t that always the case with me?” she said smugly.

“Shouldn’t be going back to work?” he changed the subject. He didn’t want to admit she was right.

“I see what you’re doing but I’ll prove myself right tonight,” she said excitedly and then left to go back on patrol with Aaron.

Tim looked back at her smiling until she was out of sight. How did he get so lucky with her? He spent the rest of the day wondering what she had in store tonight, he was curious to finally find out.

***

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Lucy said as she waited in the kitchen, practically jumping up and down in excitement.

Tim emerged from the bathroom where he was picking out clothes to wear and said in exasperation: “It’d go a lot quicker if I knew where we were going so I could know what to wear.”

“Just put on a comfy shirt, you’ll know more once we’re in the car,” she said as she handed him a shirt, “Now, put it on so we can go. We'll be late.”

“I don’t like this,” he said as he sat in the passenger seat while she took her seat behind the wheel in her car.

She gave him a beaming smile and asked: “Which part? That you’re not the one driving or that we’re going somewhere you don’t know because you hate surprises.”

“No, that we’re driving in your car,” he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes in answer and started up the car. He shook his head in disbelief but he couldn’t hide his smile. He liked how excited she was, it was worth not knowing the surprise and missing the game tonight.

***

After a short drive, Lucy parked and said: “We’re here.”

He looked around, seeing nothing but street lights and houses. He turned around to look at her with a questioning look on his face.

“Where exactly are we?” he glared at her, not getting where this is going.

“Here’s our stop to change and then we’ll walk to where we actually need to be,” she explained, still smiling from ear to ear.

He frowned at her but she ignored his look and reached in the back of her car for a gym bag. She took out a few pieces of clothing. Tim stayed silent as he looked curiously at what she was doing.

She handed him a shirt and after a quick look, his eyes widened. He looked at her with the biggest smile she’s ever seen on him.

“Are you serious?” he asked, clear joy in his voice. Holding his Dodgers shirt in his hands.

When he looked up at Lucy to say thank you, she was already wearing her own Dodgers shirt and a Dodgers baseball cap.

“You got your own Dodgers gear?” he asked in disbelief.

“With the amount of games we watched together, I thought it was about time to get some,” she smiled and took one of his hands in hers.

Tim smiled shyly at her and leaned in to kiss her. Their lips touch lightly. They pulled away quickly, remembering they needed to get going to make it in time before the game starts.

“You’re amazing, thank you,” Tim said and gave her a peck on the lips, smiling at her while he put on his Dodgers shirt.

“You’re very welcome,” she said smugly, “I just thought it’d be nice to watch an actual game for a date instead of constantly watching games together. I thought it’d be more fun.”

He smiled at her in answer and held out his hand for her to take.

“Let’s get going, the game is about to start.”

***

They walked hand in hand to the stadium and soon enough, they got to their seats. While Tim was anxiously waiting for the game to start, Lucy went to get snacks for both of them.

He looked around the crowd and the field in wonder. He never thought he’d do this with anyone he was dating. He always seemed to be the only one who was ever interested in sports.

He didn’t mind doing this alone or with some friends but now that he knew what it was like to be with someone who enjoyed doing what he likes. He liked the feeling a lot. Sharing his interests with someone felt amazing, he didn’t want to lose it. It gave him a strange feeling of exhilaration.

Lucy quickly returned with the snacks. She handed them to him and he gave her a hug and held her tight to thank her again for doing this.

A few hours later and the game was almost over and it’s a close call. Brasier was at the pitch and the team could only win with a homerun.

Lucy saw Tim clenching his fists in anticipation for the throw. He was so into the game, he didn’t notice anything else.

“Come on, you can do this,” he yelled along with other fans and started hollering.

She always liked seeing him being so into the game, he didn’t hold back anything when he was watching a game. It was rare and she enjoyed all the rare moments he was willing to give her.

She took his hand and squeezed in support and he gave her an appreciative smile. He squeezed her hand tightly, holding his breath for the next move.

Once the player started running, his voice became louder and louder and then in the last seconds, he made the homerun and Tim jumped up from his seat and cheered, taking Lucy with him.

He smiled in apology when he noticed what he did but all she could do was smile. She was happy to have arranged this. It was the best date ever.

***

Once they got back to her apartment, they sat down on the couch. Her head was resting on his shoulder while his hand rested on her thigh, rubbing small circles in it.

“Thank you for tonight. It was an amazing date,” he said as he looked at her with a tender look.

“Would you say it’s the best date you ever had?” she teased, looking at him.

“It is,” he said seriously, no teasing heard in his voice.

Her breath hitched as she heard how serious he was. She really didn’t expect that answer but it pleased her greatly that he said that.

She didn’t want to show him her surprise and continued teasing: “What? Were all your dates that horrible before? Going to a game together wasn’t all that.”

He sighed, looking away but said: “It’s just I’ve never gone to a baseball game with Isabel or any one else I’ve dated before.”

She sat upright in surprise and said: “Really? Not even with Ashley.”

He raised his eyebrows, she should know that was something that would never happen between them. She knew all too well how different they were.

“I’ve never really shared any interest with her, she wanted to try out seafood restaurants and go swimming in the newest pools,” he said as he shrugged nonchalantly.

“That’s not you,” she said and paused for a minute, “I’ve never asked but Tim, why did you date Ashley if you didn’t have anything in common?”

“I guess it was just easy, she was there and we had fun the day we met. After that, I just went along with the flow,” he said absentmindedly, thinking about the time he was with Ashley.

She looked at him to find something but she didn’t know what.

“You thought you wouldn’t find anything better so you settled because you didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even if it’s not what you imagined, at least you had someone,” she said, analyzing his reaction.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said, trying to avoid the subject. She hit the nail on the head and he didn’t want her to figure out more of the truth so he went to stand up.

She stopped him by putting a hand on her arm and turning him around. She looked up at him and frowned: “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

“I guess…” he paused and then decided to just let it out, “It was also because I tried to bury my feelings for you. I didn’t think we had a chance.”

She rested her hands on his cheeks and rubbed circles on them with her thumb. She looked him in the eyes and said: “Tim, listen. You don’t have to settle anymore, you deserve to get everything you want.”

“And I will, with you,” his smile finally returned and she was relieved he wasn’t upset anymore.

He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. She returned the kiss without hesitation, their lips moving together in sync. The kiss was getting intenser and Tim backed up to her bedroom, taking her along with him. Their lips never leave each other.

“Right now, I just want you,” he said in a husky voice.

All she did was kiss him again and push him into her bedroom, the door closing behind them.

#the rookie #chenford #my fanfiction #lucy chen #tim bradford #anon #answered #fic request

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jmoloney1 · 7 months ago

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The Lies Jess-Malarkey Tells

Here @jess-moloney-malarkey claims that the “rumors” that Jess controls Jamie’s social media stemmed from “other blog”. When that blog actually proved that wasn’t true. [Link]

Here’s where the actual rumor started and it was way before Jess-Moloney started her blog: [Link] So maybe she wants to explain why she lied about that, since she claims she reads everything on the blog she should have seen this post.

Here @jess-moloney-malarkey says (and I quote) [Link]

My problem is with how certain people behave and interact with others in their dislike of Jess. My problem is with how certain people treat others, citing only your highly speculative thoughts as reasoning. There's no respect for a difference of opinion.

But then she posts something like this in response to an ask [Link] not toxic when she does it though only when someone else does.

Here @jess-moloney-malarkey proves she can’t read where she says:

What I do care about is the speculation and accusations that are spoken about as if they're fact, the refusal to listen to any other point of view

Here is Jess-Moloney’s actual thoughts on this which @jess-moloney-malarkey entirely misconstrues in just about every post she makes:

[Link one]

[Link two]

Doesn’t sound like she’s trying to say anything is fact. It sounds like she’s saying she doesn’t actually know the answer and she’s just going by what she can see. @jess-moloney-malarkey has not actually posted any proof that this other blog has stated it as fact. Just that they have a theory. So either she can’t read or she’s gaslighting people. Take your pick. Considering how she fingered herself with joy over the hiatus notice you’d think she could have read what was said here but instead she continues to push the narrative that this other blog is “confirming” a breakup when no such thing has ever actually been said on that blog.

Here’s where @jess-moloney-malarkey says that the other blog has become a “Jamie hate blog” when they also can’t back up any proof with this when that blog said anything about hating Jamie or that Jamie should be hated. There was a discussion about the shirt he was wearing where the other blog said numerous times that she didn’t think Jamie should be cancelled over wearing a shirt. But that doesn’t fit the narrative Malarkey wants so she’s just gonna lie about it.

Quote: I do like Jamie and I don’t believe him wearing the shirt makes him a bad person. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t question why he’s wearing it or point out why it’s problematic, which it is [Link one]

Quote: I don’t think Jamie wearing the shirt means he’s a bad person (as I said before) but people need to stop acting like it’s not a problem either. [Link two]

Quote: I personally haven’t seen or heard him say or do something that I think is close to being “cancel” worthy but unlike some of the larger fanatics, I use logic. I don’t jump to conclusions and I don’t presume to know why he was wearing that shirt. [Link Three]

Does this come close to sounding like a “Jamie hate blog” apparently it does to Malarkey even though all it was, really, was opinions, discussion, and saying how and why the shirt was problematic. At no point was there a single word said about hating Jamie or telling people to hate him.

Here’s a post where Malarkey says that Jamie and Jess have been together for “Several Years” [link]

They’ve only actually been confirmed together for about 2 years. Yet let’s exaggerate that number because it makes her feel better or something? [Source] June 2022 so that would mean June 2024 would only be 2 years right? I guess almost three. It’s not a long term relationship by any means and has lasted just about the same amount as any other GF he has but Jess is special so guess we should lie about that to keep the stans happy.

Malarkey confuses answering asks with making actual posts. If people didn’t send in asks they wouldn’t be posted. So she grately exaggerates how many posts are actually being made. [Link]

Another post accusing the “other blog” of “confirming” a breakup when they can’t find any post that backs this with proof. the Jess-Moloney blog has only ever theorized that a split is happening or may have happened or things are on the decline. Yet Malarkey somehow doesn’t understand these words or only reads what she wants to read and then misinterprets it on her blog. The original Jess blog was never “proven worng” because she also never confirmed anything she just pointed out a decline in the relationship. Malarkey seems to be *obsessed* with saying that this happened (for some reason) when it’s never happened. [Link]

Malarkey repeatedly claims: Social media isn’t real life and doesn’t matter but she’ll also use social media as an example of Jamie and Jess being in a healthy relationship when it suits her:

Malarkey Says it doesn’t matter here: [Link]

But suddenly here it does matter: [Link]

Which one is it Malarkey? Or do you only know the answer when it backs up whatever the fuck story you’re going with that minute?

So what have we learned today? Malarkey lies, manupulates, gaslights, bullies, harasses, and twists things entirely out of context all the time to suit her narrative. She 100% does not read this blog she complains about she just makes shit up when it suits her. She uses points she claims she’s against when they help her but is against them when someone else uses them to prove her wrong. She claims she’s not obsessed with Jamie and Jess’s relationship but she runs an entire blog about it then writes fan fiction about Jess and Jamie being in bed together every night complementing each other on their lives so they don’t need to post on social media but when they do it means their relationship is healthy.

Oh and then she lied about Jess “still engaging with the posts” because she actually stopped engaging two days before the video premiered. Yeah but she’s right about everything, never lies, and should be a trusted source of information shouldn’t she? More accurately she’s a pathological lying bully obsessed with Jess and pretending not to be. Odd how Jess has all these stans that can’t admit they stan her and instead hide behind some narrative that they have to bully other people to protect the real Jess stans from “harmful information” like she’s the authority. Well going by all these contradictory posts I’d say she’s as nutty as a sack of cats.

Let’s see what kind of response she has for this it’ll most surely be stupid.

#jess moloney #jmm #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #lice studios

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angieblogging · 1 year ago

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“ watch my shattered edges glisten ”

marvel cinematic universe | read on ao3

summary: Yelena believes she’s broken and learns what Aromantic and Asexual is, from a friend - Kate Bishop.

a/n: anyways i need some good aroace rep also o tried my best to include terms like aplatonic or afamilial, i will probably expand on those in future fics!

Yelena couldn’t help but feel lost, every since she was a little girl she did, life screwed her over, she had major trauma, PTSD, abandonment issues and many other things that still needed to be worked out in therapy. One thing that was brought up multiple times were relationships and dating, she always assumed she wasn’t ready, that she just felt broken, that as soon as she got fixed she would do all of the normal stuff - date, love others in that special way she hasn’t loved anyone yet, but as days and months passed she saw no change, she still felt trapped on every date she went out on as soon as things were becoming too overwhelming for her. At some point the topic was dropped to he renewed im therapy later on, as nothing seemed to work to fix her. She was unfixable, broken forever and she hated it.

That thought made her heart ache, made her stomach hurt, she somewhat also found joy and comfort in that, in loneliness. She hated the thought at times, but it seemed so precious at other times, so convenient and comfortable, like it fit her, but it’s not normal, so she had to fix herself… or so she believed. It was rainy Tuesday, a meaningless day that changed everything for her, that showed her a new path, her path.

Yelena wandered around, with no apparent destination, she left the bar in a rush just to walk around in rain, passing couples, families and singles all running from the rain as she soaked, with no umbrella or a hoodie, she just walked, her hair and clothes dripping wet but she couldn’t care less at the moment. She stopped at one point, as she looked around recognising the neighbourhood - she was here multiple times, ever since she tried to kill Clint Barton, she and Kate run into each other multiple other times afterwards, which as one would assume correctly was very awkward. As time passed the two even kept in touch, Yelena send Kate post cards from all around the world and got back NYC postcards, which she kept all, as souvenirs.

Yelena moved towards Kate’s apartment, she was soaking wet and just now it hit her how her clothes were uncomfortably sticking to her skin. She walked towards the door, it felt like forever before she reached them, her hand was shaking as she knocked on the door. The door opened soon enough, Kate had her hair in a messy up-do, her makeup was clearly off and there was a fresh bruise on her face, right on the side of her forehead. She was wearing a dark purple sweater alongside grey sweatpants. Yelena stood straight as she unconsciously clenched her jaw and looked at Kate in silence for a moment.

“Hey… I wasn’t—“ Kate spoke hesitantly, but was interrupted as Yelena walked into the apartment, uninvited.

“We need to talk.” Yelena spoke firmly, as she moved her hair back, trying to unstick all the blonde hair pieces from her face.

Kate’s eyes looked at the woman, scanning her up and down. Yelena’s yellow jacket was dripping with water, right onto Kate’s tiles, so were her midnight blue pants and the white t-shirt hidden under the jacket.

“First, you get warm!” Kate demanded as she locked the door behind herself and pointed to her bedroom, in an attempt to communicate to Yelena that she can take her clothes, Kate on the other hand started to make tea.

The two sat in comfortable clothes with their hair up, covered in blanket with a warm cup of tea in their hands. Yelena was staring at Kate for a second before she spoke up, her voice not as confident as before, she paused a lot and repeated herself couple times before she said the whole thing.

“I think- I think I might be… broken.” She mumbled, looking down at her tea cup.

“Why?” Kate questioned the woman, trying to figure out what exactly the unexpected visit was about. She sipped her tea, making sure to stay focused on Yelena.

“I don’t- I don’t love… It’s like I’m heartless…”

“You don’t love?” Kate furrowed her brows, she had a hint, an idea of where Yelena was going with this, but didn’t want to scare the woman, so she simply listened.

“Like… I love… But not like I’m supposed to. I love my sister and I love my dog… I love vodka, I love my family and all that… But I don’t love love, you know?”

“You mean, romantic love?”

“Yes, that.” She paused for a moment as silence filled the room. “That is a fancy word for love.”

“Well we have different types of love…” Kate started slowly, as Yelena seemed to be still in her head, she wanted Yelena to let it all out, it would definitely help the woman - to share.

“I just… I don’t get it, why don’t I feel it? What is wrong with me? Why me? And I- I… I want to feel it, I want to love and I want to be normal and I- I just… I don’t understand…” She paused, before continuing the rant, Kate simply listened.

“I want to love and to be loved and I want to understand love love… I thought I did… But I’m not sure anymore. It’s not right, it’s not…” Yelena breathed out sharply.

“Yelena, breathe…” Kate smiled reassuringly as she put her cup down. “It’s okay.” She nodded as she spoke. “You don’t have to love… besides love is such a smaller thing then people make it out to be.” Kate placed a reassuring hand on Yelena’s shoulder as she continued to speak.

“You’re not broken, you don’t need to be fixed, you’re not lacking or missing out. You’re completely fine, completely normal and completely valid. You don’t need love, romantic, platonic, familial, it doesn’t matter… There’s so much more then love to live for… No matter what you feel, how you feel, what love you feel or don’t feel, it doesn’t make you less, it doesn’t make you a bad person, it doesn’t make you disgusting.”

Kate shifted in her seat, Yelena looked at the woman, she wanted her to continue to speak to say more. To reassure her, that she was fine, that she will feel it, but that’s not quite where Kate was going.

“You don’t need it now or ever. Your inability to love same way as others do doesn’t make you less. You might love in whatever way you want to someday but you might not… Both are alright, okay?” Kate smiled warmly at Yelena.

“But that’s not…” Yelena mumbled softly as she seemed to be processing what Kate was saying.

“It’s fine.” Kate nodded slowly. “You being different doesn’t make you less and you’re never alone, okay?”

Yelena nodded at Kate’s words, still slightly lost.

“Ever heard about aromanticism and asexuality?” Kate asked catching Yelena’s attention.

“No…What’s that?”

“If you’re on the aromantic spectrum - it means you experience little to no romantic attraction or you experience it only under certain circumstances. Being asexual is the same but with sexual attraction.”

“So little to no sexual attraction or only under certain circumstances?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Kate’s voice went high pitched as she got overly excited, but had no intention to hide it. “There’s a lot more too… Like A-Spec, with identities like aplatonic, afamilial and such…”

A light sigh and an ‘oh’ left Yelena’s mouth as she seemed to understand the information.

“So I’m that?”

“I can’t tell you that… But I can help you do some research, how about that?”

“Yeah…Let’s do that.” Yelena nodded with a determined look in her eyes.

#yelena belova #marvel #writing #fanfic #yelena belova aroace #aroace yelena belova #yelena belova imagine #kate bishop #kate bishop imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #kate bishop & yelena belova friendship

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jokerschuckletown · 13 days ago

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meeting joker and telling him about the sequel

i had this idea for a long time but i was overwhelmed with emotions to write ✍️ i needed to comfort myself and arthur moots who love him also if u love joker and his sarcasm this is a fanfiction to make u smile we deserve a laugh after the trauma we watched on screen it's my way of mocking todd and the sequel if anyone gets offended please don't hate me it's only a fiction and my way of coping with the tragedy as artie said " smile and put on a happy face "

u had a dream of meeting arthur every day and today was no different but this time u were going to watch him put the clown makeup 💄 he was getting dressed as joker for a halloween party with his clown supporters 🤡 u were so excited u could not stop smiling at his reflection in the mirror 🪞 arthur smirked at u he knew u loved it when he painted his face with that brush, it did make u jorny u were getting impatient to touch him but u had to behave sitting on his bed looking at the clown plushies on his desk it was a gift from his fan, u knew how much arthur adored soft toys since his childhood days he never had the money to buy them and stood in front of the toy shop looking at the cute clown toy 🪀 he wished someone would buy it but who would buy it for sweet little innocent artie the shop lady only smiled at him he had shared this memory with u long time back

you were so lost in your thoughts u didn't notice arthur had finished his clown make up and walked outside the room to wear his red suit you wanted to dress him this time u touched his hand " artie do u mind if i button your shirt " arthur nodded his head and u started buttoning his shirt he had this mischievous smile on his face when u stared in his eyes u saw a dark shade u pretended to ignore it when you finished with the last button u looked away but arthur was in a mood to tease u he pushed u on the bed and u fell with him your hair was on your face arthur touched every strand and it made u nervous this was the first time he was touching u and he kissed your cheek while whispering in your ears " look at me " when u opened your eyes arthur moved closer to kiss your lips but then your phone started ringing arthur was upset and u giggled at him , he was annoyed " what is this weird tone " u pulled yourself up and checked your phone " it's a smartphone arthur " arthur saw his picture on your homescreen but it was a different suit color he looked confused " i don't remember wearing this suit " u smiled at him " it's in the court trail scenes u wear a brown suit " arthur was curious to know about this movie u didn't wanna talk about it because of the things that happened to him but u knew your artie was going to watch it whether u liked it or not he needed answers u decided to ignore the call and make excuses but arthur gave u that look u knew if u ignored him he was going to reach for the phone and watch it himself

u played that short clip of him dancing in blue suit 💙 arthur eyes lit with joy he could not believe he was tap dancing in front of a live audience there were people cheering for him loudly clapping, whistling and he saw the murray band arthur moved closer to u " this is so cool i can't believe i am such a good dancer " u smiled at him " yes u are artie " and then arthur asked u " i wanna watch more clips " u were in trouble how could u play the tragic moments when artie was hurt u decided to show him the screen shot pics u had downloaded from websites artie was curious like a cat watching u slide the pics when he saw the beanie pic he said " i am wearing a beanie " in his cute baby voice and u almost had tears in your eyes u put your head on arthur shoulders and showed him fan edits on tumblr arthur was getting emotional how many people supported and defended him when he saw ricky he asked " who is this kid " u sighed " he is your fan he adores u " artie said " my fan i thought he was a supporter " no arthur he was your fan he adores and loves u like me and many fans on tumblr " arthur was confused " why did u say he was a fan what happened to ricky " u had to hold arthur hand it was difficult to tell him about that night but u had to be brave and speak the truth " artie he i don't know how to say it was a tragic event inside the aslyum " a tear fell down his cheek and u wiped it u were going to tell him further about that night but u knew u would break his heart and u were here to make him smile so u decided to talk about his lawyer catherine to change the topic " u have a supportive lawyer she did her best to prove your innocence " arthur smiled at her picture " she is so kind " yes she is a kind hearted woman but u fired her

arthur gave u a weird look and u had to tell him about lee " i didn't wanna talk about this lady but she was pretending to be your biggest fan and lover she manipulated u to fire your lawyer

arthur could not believe it and u had to show him lee clip lying about his lawyer and he chuckled " she is my girlfriend i hope she was not a delusion like sophie and i saw her singing in that clip building a mountain 🏔️ u faked a laugh and nodded " yes she is a singer in reality and has a big fandom but she is an evil manipulative liar in your world arthur "

arthur made a face " hmm i smell jealousy " u were annoyed he was mocking u but he was the joker in the moment u slapped his shoulder in a playlful way and arthur squealed " ouch that hurts " u had to change the topic cause u hated lee , u showed the clip of him watching a movie and getting emotional " arthur smiled again " i am watching a movie inside a movie this is one of my favourite movie have u watched it " no artie i have not watched it

arthur pulled u closer " we need to watch it together it's a beautiful movie i have the vhs 📼 tape " u were excited to watch a movie with arthur " i would love watching it with u artie" and then u mentioned about him singing in the aslyum arthur watched it with enthusiasm and u clapped loudly cheering for him and he shaked his head in a cute way " u see you are a star arthur " arthur could not smiling " u really made my day this is better than going out partying with those boring clowns " u laughed and kissed his cheek

arthur was going to watch more clips but u had to stop him from scrolling u didn't want him to find the truth about the tragic ending and the guards in arkham but you knew arthur was smart he saw the fear in your eyes " what happened sweetheart u were so happy to show me my clips are u hiding something from me it's okay u can tell me " u moved from the bed and arthur thought u were going to leave the room but u put your phone on the table and came back to sit on arthur lap he smiled and kissed your cheeks this was your safe space in arthur loving arms u could feel his breathe on your face and his emerald eyes staring into your soul he was so beautiful u touched his brown curls and arthur kissed your hand being so gentle u were happy he was close to u even if it was a dream and u woke up on empty bed these few moments were heaven and bliss

arthur spoke in his soft voice " tell me sweetheart what happened in the movie what made u upset i wanna know who is the villain of my story if they made a sequel i am sure they had a plot to explore after i shot murray "

you stare into arthur eyes and spoke in a serious tone ' artie u know u are the strongest man i ever met in my life and i have seen u go through the worst things this sequel was made to prove u are still arthur but the way they treated u made me angry the movie starts with an animation joking about arthur and also joker being his shadow the guards torturing " u started sobbed but continued to speak "it's the first scene of u getting mocked by the same guards they are monsters artie evil and heartless i can't tell u the rest of the things but u were so brave they could not break your will power to survive and the ending scene is the villain who " u stopped arthur was listening with patience but u felt pain in your chest u had to fight to breathe arthur knew the symptoms he hugged u and whispered words in your ear " breathe darling it's okay i am here i am fine nobody is going to hurt me " u closed your eyes and put your ears on arthur chest his heart beat calmed u while arthur kissed your hair u closed your eyes whispering arthur name

arthur didn't speak for minutes but he could hear your breathing going back to normal he spoke again " darling do you mind if i get u a glass of water " u nodded your head and arthur had gently put u back on his bed u didn't want him to leave he kissed your hand " i will be back " u asked " promise me u are not going to leave me " arthur said " i promise " he walked outside the room u could hear the sound of his shoes tapping on the floor he was a romantic at heart and when he was in the joker outfit he was more playful in his walk , u called him your romeo and he felt u were his juliet

u waited for a few minutes worried if he leaves u alone in the room and never comes back but u heard his foot steps he came back with a gentle smile on his face u could not stop admiring him he was so beautiful when arthur handed u the glass u expected him to sit right next to you but he held the glass of water till u finished drinking and then wiped your tears with his handkerchief u felt like a kid being pampered by a guardian but arthur was always a sweetheart he knew how nobody had ever done anything good for him but he had to treat u with love since u were the only good thing in his tragic life

arthur sat next to you but didn't touch you he wondered if u needed space he knew u were hurt after watching the sequel " u don't have to speak if it makes u sad and heartbroken i am here no matter what u saw on the screen i am still here and i am not going anywhere i will stay with u as long as u need me "

u decided u had to tell the truth but u could not look in arthur eyes it would break your heart u knew arthur lap was one of the most comforting space and u slept on his lap while arthur touched your hair " artie i can't believe what i saw there was this crazy inmate who pretended to tell u a joke u looked so beautiful in that scene but i knew what was going to happen i kept closing my eyes and ears when he hurt u i felt the worst pain my heart i felt like he was stabbing me many times i was dying i could not move from my chair i felt paralysed " u started crying again and arthur whispered " shhh darling it's okay i am here " u woke up and touched arthur face and arthur had tears in his eyes he had ruined his makeup u hated that u were the reason he was crying " i am sorry arthur i am so sorry i wish i never watched that scene it haunts me in my sleep " u touched arthur green vest and pulled it up to see any marks on his stomach but there were no scars he was safe and u kissed him right there arthur had closed his eyes he knew how much u loved him and this was your overprotective mind touching him, he held your face with gentleness ' i love you and i want u to know i am so lucky i found u your love protects me from every evil thing " u hugged him and cried on his shoulders arthur pulled out his journals he had to make u smile " u wanna hear a joke " yes artie and arthur said knock knock who's there it's the joker he escaped arkham and killed the guards they are dead " u felt bad for laughing but this was your arthur dark sense of humor mocking those idiots for hurting him and u loved it

"do u wanna watch a movie with me " u smiled " yes artie but what about the halloween party " arthur rolled his eyes in a playful way and spoke in a childish tone " nobody cares about me i get bored of them shouting my name " u laughed and arthur danced like carnival to cheer u up and then walked backwards in style to pull out the tapes from the shelve u were curious to see the name it was his favourite Chaplin movie and u smiled at him he held his hand like a gentleman and u touched it , arthur walked with u in his living room and u waited for him to play the movie but his telephone 📞 started ringing arthur tapped his feet loudly on the floor he looked annoyed but at the same time he was trying his best to make u laugh and he said be right back in a minute sweetie enjoy your popcorn 🍿 and left the room in a storm u sat giggling he was such a cutie u could hear him speaking loudly on the phone " i am not attending the party i have a cold i am gonna stay at home ask my supporters to cancel it or if they wish to celebrate it without me it's fine good night folks " u had to put your hands on your mouth to surpress the laughter and then he came back in swag " hi darling let's watch the movie do you mind if i take a seat next to you " and u pulled arthur on your lap he almost tripped and fell on the sofa and he made that annoying face u kissed his cheeks and arthur put his hands on your shoulders holding the remote in the other hand u could not believe this was happening even if it was a dream u were so blessed sitting next to arthur watching the movie while he was busy watching the screen u were staring at his beautiful face and hearing that cute laugh your heart was full of love u whispered joker and he looked at u worried if something was wrong but then u touched his face and pulled him into a kiss arthur could not stop smiling and u were happy he was safe with u ❤️‍🩹

#arthur fleck #joker

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startseeingstars · 28 days ago

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Collision Path - Mike 5lbs of Pressure

CH02 Mike POV 🎶 {My Own Summer (Shove It) - Deftones}

T/W - drugs/alcohol, sexual themes

We walked out of the club toward the car - my Uncle’s pride and joy.

“You didn’t have to talk down to me back there.” I stated, reaching the passenger door. He unlocked it and we climbed in.

“You didn’t have to make an ass out of yourself.” He said it as though it was a matter of fact, and I felt slight embarrassment.

“What was the point of me being there?” I asked him and he looked at me with defeat.

“To watch, learn. You need to start using whatever’s under that stupid fucking hat.” He took my hat off and threw it in the backseat, making me roll my eyes in annoyance.

I knew he wanted me to be like him - unfeeling, ruthless. But I couldn’t care less about his operation. I didn’t want any part of this, so of course I was reluctant to learn the ropes.

Leff had berated me many times already about how I should be grateful that he took me under his wing after my Mom died - that he’s trying to set us up for life. He was a hard ass, which is why he ran the operation. Most days it felt as though I was nothing more than a dog for him to boss around.

I bit my tongue, knowing there was no point in arguing with him yet again. I’d already been clear that I wanted to spend my life doing music, not running drugs around town for him. Unfortunately, the music scene out here was abysmal - just like at home. I’d been struggling to find a front man or drummer for my band for years now. The only other member was the other guitarist, my friend Eli.

I followed Leff out the door and downstairs. We hadn’t spoken much since yesterday but I didn’t mind. The less conversation with him, the better. To my surprise, I saw a familiar redhead in the mail room, glancing over her mail as she walked over to the stairs. My mouth went dry as I realised it was the dancer from the club yesterday. She looked different with clothes on. I guess I didn't often imagine what clothing strippers would wear day to day, but she was wearing black shorts and an oversized plain black T-shirt. I could see her tattoos more clearly now - at least the ones on her arms and legs and I wished I could ask her about some of them.

Leff opened the door and gave me a look that read ‘hurry up’. I looked at her as I was leaving and she looked up at me. I saw recognition in her eyes as she smiled politely at me. Her eyes didn’t linger on me for long before she left.

“Don’t even think about it.” Leff warned, keeping his tone low as he unlocked the car.

“About what?” I replied, curiously.

“Her.” His reply was simple and firm as he started the car.

“Don’t think I could pull her?” I asked, though I knew his answer.

“Fuck no. She’s hot and you’re … a rodeo clown.” He looked me over and shook his head with disapproval. I knew he hated my look, but it made me feel confident. It was just a bonus that he despised it.

“Besides, you can’t get attached to people in this line of work. I’ve told you this, Mikey.” He continues to talk down on me but, at this point, I had gotten good at tuning him out.

I found myself wondering about the redhead. She must be new to the building - I definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a beautiful face like hers. Or her legs… especially in those heels from the club.

I’d spent most of that deal sneaking glances at her as she danced and gave her attention to the lucky bastard who’s lap she sat in.

I was no stranger to strip clubs, especially since Leff had taken me in, but most girls didn’t have the same look at her, especially at the higher end places I’d visited on my nights off with Sicky - Leff’s right hand man.

The day goes off without a hitch, beside the casual gun pointed to my head. I refused to admit how much it shook me up - but in the moment, I genuinely thought that crazy motherfucker would actually shoot me over interrupting his game. Even if I did admit it, Leff and Sicky would laugh it off and call me ‘princess’ for the rest of the day.

I walked into the warehouse with the paper bag full of guns from the deal. I placed it on Leff’s desk as Sicky lit up a cigarette on the couch, smirking at my expense as he usually did.

“What the fuck is that?” Leff eyed the bag.

“The guns.” I shrugged, placing my hands on my hips defensively.

“And you’re just carrying them down the street in a paper fucking bag?” He snapped, snatching the bag and looking inside it.

I rolled my eyes, but I realised then he was concerned about the risk. Still, I held my ground.

“I got them here, didn’t I?” My tone was annoyed and he shook his head, opening the small safe that sat on the desk.

“You wouldn’t have if that fucking bag ripped. Use your fucking head, Mikey.” His tone was harsh as he handed me a $100 note.

“Maybe I’d care a little more if you paid better. I’m the one out there taking the risks, getting guns held to my head and shit.” I retorted, taking a seat on the couch.

I watched Leff and Sicky share a look but didn’t think much of it.

“Maybe I’ll pay you a little more when you start acting like you want this job.” Leff’s words ended the conversation. I didn’t have it in me to argue.

Eli knocked on my door and I called out to him that it was open. He came in carrying his guitar case and sat down in the armchair as I lit a smoke on the couch.

I always made sure to only invite Eli over for practice on the nights I knew Leff wouldn’t be home.

“Where’s this singer?” He asked as I exhaled, shrugging. “Dunno, man. He said he’d be here by now.” The search for a vocalist was draining and felt useless in this fucking city. “We should move to fucking Austin, Texas. The scene out there’s supposed to be way better.” I reminded him. As per usual, he ignored my comment about moving. He was a mama's boy at heart and hated the idea of leaving the city, despite the fact his brother was killed years ago a few streets over.

My Mom OD’d back home and the first thing I wanted to do was get as far away from that place as possible.

“Dude, try this shit. Best I’ve had in a while.” He scooped up a bit of coke on his key and held it out to me, effectively changing the subject. Without hesitation, I snorted it and felt the familiar burn in my sinuses. I picked up my guitar and we began jamming.

#rory culkin #charlie walker #clyde electrick children #kappa #fanfic #culkin brothers #culkin cult #lords of chaos #mike 5lbs of pressure #5lbs of pressure

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the-good-projxct · 4 months ago

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May 29th, 2024

11:28 pm. I am listening to long distance by Brandy. Okaaayy. She got pipes, bars and character. I Love Brandy from Moesha days till now. This song though, it has always gotten me in my feels. I walked home today from a hair appointment and this was the song playing. I felt it in my soul. The last few years being far from Munene were wild. But also, I learned and experienced so much. I had breakfast, was out the door and on a bike by 11.30 this morning. Off to get a retie. Everytime I get a retie I miss Mommy Dorcas. I am so grateful to the Universe that I got a big sister in her. She really means so much to me. She is a friend, a confidante, my hype-man, my loctician, and fellow swahili speaking East African in PEI. It took only 3 hrs to do my hair then I walked into a little market and found a plain white ralph lauren shirt. I need a white shirt for an outfit I am wearing to a wedding next friday. I am excited to be going to my first wedding since I’ve been back. I used to be the talk of the town when I was an addict. Now I am the talk of the town because I am sober and marrying into the culture. LMAO, my main gossipers are still my main gossipers but at least now it is Gøod tings they spreading ‘bout me. Sometimes I feel like I came back from the dead. I can see people observing me like who am I? How did I do it? Bruh. It truly feels like I reincarnated into a higher being while in this same life. Isn’t that mad? Like I didn’t need to die to Phoenix. I rose out of the ashes and I am vibrating on a higher plane. I am in my Gøod era. Like Life is Gøod. So, if/when I was in Canada, violence, genocide, hate crimes happening to Black and Brown bodies used to take this big toll on me. When I am here, it still bothers me. It still angers me. But it doesn’t consume or drown me. The wildest part is Kenya is like 5 seconds, steps away from war zones. To the north, the east and the west. The icing on the cake is that Kenya has goofy ass leadership that aligns with whiteness which puts us at risk of retaliatory violence. Despite all this, Life is Gøod. Maybe in some wild way, I am grateful and aware of this little life of mine because I am surrounded by violence on all fronts. Like being close to it, makes me enjoy the sun more. Because, it likely won’t be like this forever. The rate the world is going, I feel like there will be a generation that will not know peace. We will be telling them stories of a time when we felt safe, happy to be out in nature, out in the world. And that breaks my heart. It also makes me make the best out of my environment. I want to soak in the smell of rain. I want to dance in the sun's rays. I want to sit with elders under trees. I want to swim in the ocean. So that when we cannot, I will have lived memory deep in my genome to pass onto my future Ancestors. I will dance now so my children’s children know the sound of music in their bones. I will Live/Love. I will feel alive. I will BE. This deep sense of being alive, experiencing, being, Living/Loving comes from this deep knowing of what is to come. If the worst comes, I want to be ready. My readiness will be in the joy, the magik, the soul, the essence of being alive, having lived. They don’t call me Aunty Henjoyment for nothing. I will enjoy this little life of mine. Bc many that look like me are denied this privilege. I will scream Free Congo, Free Palestine, Free Sudan, Freedom!! into the sun rays beaming on my melanated skin. If that is how/when I die then how magikal innit. God is Gøod. Ase. Ase.

#may 2024

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lavienbleuuu · 1 year ago

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You Are the Captain of Your Life

(My personal reminder of Principles and Ideas of Life)

You’re the captain of your life. You decides places that you want to go and actually you can go there as long as you have a Will to do it. What is your goal in life? What do you want to achieve? What really matters to you? Defining them will help you to know better of “Who am i? (philosophical question)”

Other’s Role in Our Life

Many people live based on what other’s think, they have thoughts just like: “What the world would say if i work in this shitty job” (whereas he/she actually need money from the job). That is the worst way of thinking might be, where you prioritize/put other’s thinking/opinion above your needs.

or maybe you love your shirt, and you want to wear it to go outside but your friends think that your shirt is an old ugly ancient style. So finally, you don’t wear the shirt. (That’s me :) but it’s true that the shirt that i love is perfectly fit to me, but only when i wear it when i was in home:v — after a long time:)

“It never ceases to amaze me: we all love ourselves more than other people, but care more about their opinion than our own” — Marcus Aurelius

Don’t waste your life by following other’s opinion about how life is supposed to be but you actually hate/disagree it. I believe everyone has their own standard of living. How do you want to live by day by day? Is it filled by luxuries? (totally not me) or just a modest/simple way of living? (i prefer this one) or anything else??!! loads of option how to live in this world. It’s your life, your one only!

It doesn’t mean you need to close your ears to every critic and suggestion for you, what I mean is you should still listen and filter them. by questioning “Is it true?” (Critics and suggestion) If it’s only an opinion that doesn’t true (based on fact), “am I gonna use it?” Totally no, right? Why do i need to follow devil’s opinion? But what if someone’s critics is a fact and actually helping me to get better as person? (even though it’s hard to accept) Accept it, thanks for the people that criticize us, and let’s fix ourselves!!

“If someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, I shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone: the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” — Marcus Aurelius

Mortality as a power

As a muslim, i believe there will be an Afterlife (Heaven & hell) where we are immortal, but this is a life where we can die/mortal and i think our mortality gives more values for us because we don’t know when will we die.

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” — Brad Pitt as Achilles on Troy (i disagree on the gods part)

For me, it gives me a lot of courage to do something that scared me the most too. If we can’t die in this life, in the long run, we will be bored by every situation that happens.

(What about Heaven where we will experiencing tremendous amount of joy and immortality, can we be bored in there? My father’s answer is: there is no bad emotions in heaven. But still, it is a question that i can’t answer by myself. — I don’t have the capacity to understand it because of my limit as human — What do you guys think?)

Life as a Journey

Treat your life as a journey, you need to set a direction/goal, preparing what do you need to achieve the goals and go for it. If you failed, at least you have tried it because many people too afraid to take the first step to achieve their goals. What really matters? You fail and you learn, if you still have a Will to continue achieve your goals, great!! Go for it again! As long as your goals is benefit for others, not harming others, and you feel happy of your work, go for it!

I will always be supporting people who works hard to achieve their goals. Let’s help each other’s and be connected.

Set the direction of your ship, learn how to sail and lead, prepare the ship to be unbreakable, face the obstacles with determination to get better, always remember that “every journey has its end” so you can enjoy every moments of your life because any moments might be your last.

Why I Write This?

Same as the sub-title, i write this because i want to remind myself of principles that inspire me and “whether i work for others as an employee or not, The Real Boss is still Me”.

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the-dawn-star · 2 years ago

Note

First of all, let me just say, I love your writing! Keep up the amazing work my friend!

Second of all, I have fallen into a Jamie Campbell Bower pit today, and I was wondering if I could get a fic with Caius dressed in similar fashion as Jace from Mortal Instruments. Female, Mate reader, and she has no clue how to respond, but she is very appreciative of this new "bad boy" look her mate has dawned.

badboy!Caius x Reader

A/N: I'm not sure if I filled what you asked, but here it is. And yes I took some inspiration from the green house scene in the City of Bones movie, and I don't feel bad about it.

-S

+Not proof read, 700ish words

It was just a trip, or that’s what you tried to tell to yourself.

Never did you thought that a trip to Italy would end up you finding your mate that was one of the strongest vampires in the world, or the king of the vampire society.

Caius was quiet, broody, hating anything that moved...

In months he barely talked to you. It was clear that Caius hated the fact that you were human, but still you could see the joy in his face when one of the guard members made everyone in the room laugh.

But you didn’t push him anymore than needed. And you were doing just fine in the massive castle, with a guard member always following you.

“Lady Y/N, master Caius had asked me to fetch you.” Jane wasn’t the biggest fan of you but she was scary loyal to the kings.

You didn’t say anything and just followed the blonde vampire.

You knew Caius’ wing in the castle, you had been there once or twice but never had you stepped into any of his many rooms. Jane knew exactly where she was going, and opened one of the many dark wooden doors.

You took a quick look at Jane, but she gave you just a small nod. And with no other option you stepped into the marbled covered room, full of plants and flowers and a glass ceiling to the night sky.

You had to stop your jaw dropping to the floor.

And there he was, your mate, wearing black t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. Fuck he looked good, his hair undone and messy, sure that he hadn’t cleaned it in a while. It was so different with the look you had gotten used to, with historical suits and heavy judge cloak.

Caius was always beautiful, but now, so unkept so raw... so beautiful.

“Is everything okay?” You asked quiet not wanting to bother him if he hadn’t seen you walking in.

“Well, I was the one who asked you to come here.”

His red eyes on you were piercing you soul, like he could see anything you were feeling.

“You don’t need to stay at the door just come here,” You walked to him leaving few meters between us.

“I know that I haven’t been the nicest to you, but trust me it’s nothing to do with you. I have been busy and you being a human... I have been getting used to the change, that’s all.” All the times you had talked to him, never had you seen him so gentle and caring.

“Yeah, I get it. I mean, I just moved into your home, I get it.”

Caius gave you a small smile, and pulled a red rose from the bush in front of us, giving it to you. And with a smile on your face you accepted it.

“So, I was thinking, maybe we could start from fresh. We could you know do normal couple things, dates and stuff...” Caius’ eyes were glued to the stone floor.

It took a minute for you to come up with anything to say.

“Are you asking me on a date?” You asked not believing your own words.

“Yes...,” He said sounding like he was questioning his own words. “I know you are my mate but you don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to...,”

“I would love to..., if you want to...” You spoke trying hold the beaming smile from your face. After all, you needed look cool, but you failed with twirling the rose between your fingers.

“Of course, I want to! I have wanted you since the first time I saw you!” Caius almost yelled, before placing his cold hands against your cheeks and pulling your lips to his. Kissing him took all air out of your lungs, and it felt like sparks were flying around you two. But it couldn’t last forever, and the king pulled away.

“God you are beautiful...,” Caius whispered only inches away from you.

“I could tell the same to you...”

#jane volturi #volturi #the volturi #caius twilight #caius x reader #caius x y/n #caius volturi x reader #the twilight series #the twilight saga #twilight #caius volturi #twilight hc

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lily-drake · 3 years ago

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De-Aged

Jason: holy shit- she's so tiny!

Dick: *agitated* Jason, focus, what do we do??

Jason: *coos at the baby Marinette* I haven't seen her this small in forever.

Dick: we need- Jason! Focus! what do we do???

Jason: *shrugs* wait it out? I don't know.

Inspired by @bambicambi

Annoyance coursed through Marinette’s veins as she saw the new Akuma of the day. Of course it happened when her family came to visit. Looking up to the sky and praying for strength she turned her back to the chaos, something she would soon regret. Her brothers were asking her what the heck was going on, and as she opened her mouth a baby pink ray of light hit her, and Marinette poofed and in her place sat 4-year-old Marinette Wayne.

Jason and Dick stared at the small child on the ground in shock and after the moments were over Jason eagerly picked her up and spun her around.

“Holy sh*! She’s so tiny!”

Jason called out as he held the small giggling girl to his chest. Dick, was rightfully frustrated and walking in small circles and quickly said,

“Jason, focus, what do we do?”

Upon hearing Jason making cooing noises, he swiftly turned to look at Jason.

“I haven’t seen her this small in forever!”

He exclaimed, nuzzling his nose against the small Marinette.

“We need-Jason! Focus! What do we do?”

Jason shrugged as he held Marinette against his hip. She giggled and tugged at his jacket.

“Wait it out? I don’t know.”

Dick opened her mouth, but stopped when Marinette began to speak.

“Jay-Jay! Ride! Ride!”

Jason’s grin grew and gently set her down while holding her hand. He squared down and carefully released her hand. He could not express the pure amount of joy he felt when she climbed onto his back and wrapped her tiny hands around his neck.

“Jason, have you just forgotten the weirdly dressed flying child that not only turned Marinette, but all of Paris into kids?!”

He…had forgotten. But can you blame him? Marinette was so tiny when she was a kid, and he hadn’t seen her like this in forever.

“Look, contact Zatanna while I keep her safe and distracted.”

Dick sighed in relief replying,

“Alri-wait a minute.”

Jason was already running with a giddily screaming Marinette.

“No fair, I want to cuddle my baby sister too!”

He sighed in frustration, and no he was not pouting. Quickly pulling out his communicator he dialed Zatanna.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I’m in Paris visiting some family, and this flying kid in really weird clothes is going around de-aging people. Could you come see what’s going on please?”

“Pardon, but what?”

“Yea, it sho-“

Dick quickly ran through the streets dodging beams that were now directed towards him. Why did stuff like this always happen when they traveled?

A few moments later a portal opened and he had never been more relieved to see Zatanna in his life. Zatanna looked around and looked at the villain. As she studied it and was about to jump in, a neon butterfly mask appeared over the child’s face and she realized what this was.

“I can’t do anything, sorry Dick.”

“What?! Why?!”

“This is ancient magic, probably the most ancient magic in the universe. There should be others…, see,”

She said pointing to a cat-like figure in the distance. Dick stared in confusion, what was happening?

While Dick was trying to figure everything out Jason was having the time of his life with Tiny Mari. He was especially thankful that when she was blasted that her clothes were transformed into a white t-shirt and overalls with lions stitched throughout them. He had taken so many pictures of them. We’re people running around everywhere scared, yes, yes they were. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying as much time as he could with his tiny sister like he used to.

“Jay-Jay! There’s a fairy in my pocket!”

“How is there a fairy in the Pixie’s pocket?”

He asked jokingly while swinging the hands back and forth!

“Lookin lookie! It’s a Ladybug fairy! She’s so pwetty.”

Marinette held Tikki in both of her hands and jumped up and down trying to get him to look. Jason chuckled and looked down at the toy. It was cute, he had never seen something like it before. Then it blinked, and flew out of Marinette’s hand, and oh gosh, IT CAN TALK?!

“Marinette, you need to help Chat Noir defeat the akuma?”

“Akuma matata!”

Marinette called out with a giggle. Jason would have laughed, if it weren’t for the flying bug thing talking to his sister, who was currently 4, telling her to help someone defeat the crazed villain.

“Woah! Are you insane?! Look at her?! How do you expect her to fight?!”

The thing looked conflicted before sighing and saying,

“Well, do you want to fight it? You just need to wear the earrings, I can run you through what you need to do!”

“No!”

Marinette screamed.

“I want to be like you and daddy! It’s my turn to help people!”

“Marinette, you're too young.”

Tears began to well up in the small child’s eyes.

“I-it’s no fair! You al-always say that! I want to help!”

She finished stamping her foot definitely with a sharp glare. Jason sighed in exhaustion and turned to the floating creature. He mumbles under his breath,

“Can’t believe I’m letting this happen.”

He knew by the way Marinette was gripping at her ears and the definence in her stance. He could easily take them by force, but he didn’t want to hurt her or make her angry and feel betrayed.

“Can you assure above all else that she will be completely and utterly safe. I will join as well in my hero suit to make absolutely sure.”

“Yes, she has a partner as well who will watch out for her.”

He sighed in relief at that, but there was a new and very heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t leave until this event was over. He listened to the fairy tell Marinette what she needed to do and almost smiled at the determined face she was making. Her cheeks were so chubby and-no, focus! He pulled out an extra domino mask he always carried with him and zipped up his leather jacket. When he turned around there was a burst of pink light and where Tiny Mari once stood stood his sister in the cutest outfit he had ever seen! It was similar to his old Robin outfit, but closer to Tim’s as she thankfully felt that there needed to be pants. She had small wings on her back with a black cape with red bottom edges that shielded them from view. And in her hands was a tiny yo-yo. Before anything else could happen, he quickly pulled out his phone and took pictures. He wanted to show this to Bruce and brag, sue him.

Soon after that they both left to the rooftops. He was honestly surprised by how easily she maneuvered around the roofs and how easily her yo-yo grappled and released from things. They soon landed next to a Cat Woman knock-off who turned to look at them in surprise and exhaustion. When Marinette saw him she quickly turned to him and tugged on his sleeve. Jason crouched down and Mini-bug leaned close to his ear and whispered,

“Does Selie have a son?”

Jason snickered and glanced up at the kid. He seemed to have heard them if the ears twitching and confused look said anything.

“No Pix. He was just inspired.”

“Oh, okie-dokie!”

“So, I’m assuming you two know each other and she was hit out of suit?”

“Yep, basically.”

“Right. Well, we just need to break the wand, but I can’t get close.”

“Little Lady, cast your charm.”

Mini-bug puffed up her cheeks making her old —and most adorable— thinking face before yelling out while throwing the yo-yo into the air,

“Lucky Charm!”

“A red and black spotted rubber bullet dropped into Mini's awaiting palms. Jason promptly took the bullet and loaded it into his gun, it was the perfect fit. The hideously dressed child flew over to them and flourished her wand creating the opening Jason needed. With one quick shot the bullet flew through the air and hit the wand causing it to snap. A black and purple butterfly began to fly out and mini quickly caught it. She quickly released it bouncing on her heels in pure joy as a wide smile grew onto her face.

“Told ya I coul’ do it!”

“Yes you did, good job Pix.”

Chat Noir, who they hadn’t noticed disappeared, came back with the bullet and handed it to the small girl. She threw the bullet into the air jumping up as well and yelled out,

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Millions of Ladybugs flew through the air repairing damages and Turing people back to normal ending with Ladybug herself. Ladybug looked around confusedly and saw Chat on her right and Red Hood on her left. Memories of the past hour flashed through her mind and she promptly hid her face in her hands and a deep blush bloomed across her face.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“I don’t know Bug, was it?”

Jason asked with a crap eating grin.

“Yes.”

Came her mumbled response. Jason laughed and ruffled her hair, Marinette was too miserable to care.

“We should go make sure golden boy isn’t panicking too much, don’t ya think?”

Marinette sighed tiredly and nodded, I guess so.

“Sorry Chat, I promise I’ll explain later. Bug out.”

And as quickly as she could she swung away with Red Hood laughing and not too far behind.

“B is going to hate that he missed this.”

He called through the air causing a loud groan to escape her lips.

“Don’t show him!”

“Too late Pix, already sent them all to the group chat.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you to Babybug.”

Marinette groaned again and Jason laughed all the way to where they found Dick and Zatanna talking in an alleyway.

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @aurcad123

#maribat #BDBWM2021 #bio!dad bruce wayne #marinette wayne #marinette dupain cheng #sibling au #sibling daminette #sibling jasonette #shenanigans #fluff #day 14 #cute #de-aged #mlb x batman #dc x mlb #mlb x dc

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bluesfortheredj · 2 years ago

Text

The saviour.

Part 3.

“I didn’t… I fell over like an idiot then she helped me up and just ran…” he stutters, hoping he hadn’t done anything wrong, “I swear I would never do anything on purpose.”

The others have joined them outside and they all look between one another with concern.

“Steve, we need to go after her,” Max pleads, “we need your car.”

He nods, knowing that you wouldn’t run away like this for no reason, and makes sure everyone is out of the store so he can lock up, “who’s staying and who’s coming?”

Mike looks between them, “we’re all coming.”

“Squeeze in then!”

Max gets in the front with Steve and they give one another a knowing look before heading to the cemetery where they find your car parked along the side of the road. Eddie puffs his chest up, takes a deep breath, then opens the car door, “I’ll go.”

He steps out, looks around, then spots you up a slight hill sitting at what he can only imagine is Billy’s grave, and he makes his way slowly towards you before lightly clearing his throat to make you aware of his presence.

“Yeah?” you question without turning around.

“Do you know what one of the first things Dustin told me about you was?” he asks quietly.

“That I’m a big softie at heart?”

“Well, yeah… but he also said that you weren’t the type of girl that needed to be taken care of, rather cared for.”

“Clever little shit,” you chuckle, wiping away a tear.

“Can I take a seat?” he asks, noticing you were a little upset.

“Sure.”

He sits down on the grass next to you with a sigh, “so… this is Billy, huh? Tell me about him.”

“You don’t wanna hear-”

“I do,” he interrupts, turning to face you, “please, tell me what he was like.”

“He… uh… he was a complicated soul. He got angry, violent sometimes… never with me… but he went looking for trouble when it all got too much in his head and he felt as though the only way to let everything out was to fight. He disliked most people, probably would have hated you,” you pause to chuckle lightly, “he definitely hated Steve. Before we got together he had quite the reputation at the swimming pool where he was lifeguard, a few of the moms certainly liked hanging out there over summer when he was working.”

You look down at your bag and pull out a Polaroid of the two of you together that Max had taken while you were too wrapped up in one another to notice; it was a sunny day and Max was leading you both down to a beach while Billy had his arm slung around your shoulders protectively and you had your own arm around his waist underneath the open shirt he was wearing. The expressions on your faces as you looked at one another were pure joy, and you take a deep breath before handing it to Eddie.

“So he was a total hunk I see,” he says, earning a smile and a nod from you, “you look very much in love.”

He hands the photograph back and you slip it safely into it’s slot in your bag, “we were. It’s as if a switch were flicked inside his head when we got together, like he realised he could be loved for everything going on inside him and not just his looks. Then Starcourt happened and… he showed Max and I just how much he loved us by making the ultimate sacrifice.”

“He’ll always be a part of you,” Eddie says softly.

“I’m sorry for running away like that earlier. It was stupid of me. I just… when we held hands an image of Billy flashed before my eyes because it’s the first time that’s happened since him and it scared me… I’ve been through so many firsts without him being here; the first morning waking up alone, the first meal without him, the first car ride; and now there’s a whole new set of firsts that need to happen if I’m to find someone else.”

“...and you’re not ready for that, I understand,” Eddie nods.

“No, no, it’s not that I’m not ready,” you begin, placing your hand on Eddie’s clasped fingers, “it’s just that I didn’t realise I could find someone else. But you… well, you’ve come along and messed that theory up completely.”

“I have a habit of being annoying like that,” he admits.

“Good to know.”

He moves his hands so that yours is sandwiched gently between his palms and he shuffles around on his bum to face you, “I like you… a lot… and I will wait as long as it takes for you to feel comfortable with all this.”

You turn to smile at him, then slip your hand from his, “do you mind if I have a minute?”

“Of course, I’ll be at the car,” he nods, getting to his feet and walking away.

“Oh Billy,” you sigh quietly, “who knew this would happen, huh?”

You close your eyes and see his face with that familiar cocky smile looking back at you as if he knew all along that this was inevitable, and you shake your head with a chuckle, “go on then, give me a sign that you knew,” you challenge to nothing in particular. Within a few seconds a small object has bounced off of your head and onto the grass in front, and your eyes fly open to see an acorn on the ground. Your head immediately drops back just as a squirrel scurries away along a branch and you can’t quite believe your eyes; this was either one huge coincidence, or Billy had indeed given you a sign from wherever he was now. Stranger things had certainly happened at Starcourt that night, so you were definitely inclined to believe the latter.

“Okay, okay!” you laugh, picking up the acorn and getting to your feet, “I love you,” you whisper as you place it on top of the headstone.

You turn to see Eddie leaning against your car then tilt your head to the side as you slowly make your way down to him and take his hand, studying the rings that adorn his fingers.

“Everything okay?” he questions.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up at his face and seeing only him, “I think so. Wait there.”

Steve and the rest of the gang get out of his car as you turn towards them and make your way over, then you give them all a sorry smile and a shrug.

“Predictable, aren’t I?” you exhale.

“We still love you despite that,” Steve smirks.

“Sorry if I worried any of you… you know how it is. I’ll drive Eddie back to the shop if that’s okay?” you ask, mainly looking at Max as you say this.

She nods fervently, “of course it is. Does this mean you’re gonna give him a chance?”

“Maybe,” you smile.

“Thank god,” Dustin pipes up, “maybe he’ll actually stop going on about you now.”

“Or it’ll make him ten times worse,” Lucas points out.

You roll your eyes at them all, “see you back at the store.”

They return to the car and you make your way back to Eddie, “sorry, had to ask permission to give the dungeon master a lift back.”

“I am a valuable load,” he nods, much to your amusement.

“Modest, too.”

Getting in the car, you let out a light sigh and look over as Eddie fastens his seatbelt, “you ready?”

“Are you?”

“Almost,” you smile.

@simonsbluee

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4 #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #eddie munson fluff

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Scent | Mate Series

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek x Y/N

Summary: Derek is getting suspicious of you, you're hiding something and he wants to know what

Warnings: not really I think but just in case, as always, read at your own risk

A/N: This is Part One | Next Part

This whole thing is a whole family pack au and mate au, OC stuff in later chapters but I really loved writing this and love the idea of a family pack <3

You walked into Scott’s house, happily smiling at everyone gathered around the table, noticing that even Derek had showed this time. The wolves seemed to carry on about their business as you muttered something about dinner and moved to the kitchen. “I don’t like that ya know?” You jumped a little, turning to Derek and smiling in confusion. He sniffed the air, “All I can smell is your strawberry shortcake lotion. You use too much.” You scoffed, turning to the food, “I don’t care, go smell someone else.” He shook his head, “Why? I don’t like not being able to smell you.” You looked at him, eyebrows raised, "Derek, I know what you wolves do, it's a violation of privacy, I like my emotions being mine." Derek huffed under his breath, "Just trying to care." He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You couldn't help but wonder if you'd been excessively hateful, but you were right. You knew better than anyone, wolves violate your privacy whenever they can by just smelling you, let alone with serious practice what they can do. You could never keep a secret around a pack of wolves, and living in Beacon Hills with the extra wolf sense going around is no different. It's better to just hide your scent all together. You of course knew how to do this very well without the nifty supernatural trick; putting lotion over your scent glands regularly, wearing tight clothes, and lots of deodorant. You sighed to yourself as you thought of how different it could be if you could come clean.

Derek hung back after the meeting, watching as you waved everyone goodbye, claiming he was cleanup help since you cooked. "What's up Derek?" Scott said once the door shut. "Y/n," Derek started, turning to Scott, hand rubbing his scruff nervously, "has she always covered her scent like that?" Scott's eyebrows furrowed, "Now that I think about it, yeah, why?" Derek shrugged, acting like it was no big deal but wanted to put the fuze out before it went to far, "Dunno, she's just the only one that does it, even Lydia with the amount of crap she wears, I can smell her," he sighed, "it's like Y/n is hiding something man, I've just never once smelled her." Derek shook his head, "I mean, it's never bothered you? Not being able to smell her?"

Scott could sense something he hadn't ever before with Derek, a sense of need, like when Stiles called to him when he almost lit himself on fire. "She just wants her privacy, she knows we can smell fear, anxiety, joy, embarrassment," he slapped Dereks shoulder, "relax man, are you really worried Y/n is out to get you?" Dereks hands fell next to him, "Something like that." Derek said his goodbyes to Scott and happily Stiles, as over the years he's grown to love the wild man, and left wondering about you.

At the next pack meeting, this time in his loft, you were the last one in again. As everyone was catching up and cutting up, Derek found his way beside you, "I don't like that one, it smells sour, what is it?" You blushed just slightly, "I don't know some cucumber mix." Derek huffed, "If all I can smell is fake shit, at least something good, citrus, sweet or somethin'," he shrugged as he made his way to the table.

You'd all been discussing new training for the supernatural creatures drawn in by the Nemeton and handling the strays that don't fall in line with the help of the argents. Derek was next to you, something you knew was no coincidence as he'd swapped places with Scott at some point. He reached over to the map in front of you, trying to rub just your shirt, but you slyly moved your arm, muttering an apology, "Oh, sorry," but Derek didn't miss the extra heartbeat, even if just for a second. What is going on with you?

A few days later you find yourself climbing in the passenger of Stiles' jeep, just leaving your house after reapplying lotion, knowing that you were going to Dereks' for pack training. "Scott needed a ride today, that okay?" Stiles quizzed you, studying you as you answered with a hum. "Everything alright?" he reiterated, turning the music up. You shrugged, "I just have a feeling something is going on." Stiles gave you a sympathetic smile as he pulled up to Scott's.

Scott climbed in Stiles' back seat, glancing at you, consciously aware that you only smelled like mixed berry lotion, smiling, "Hey, Y/n, how was your day?" You shrugged, "The usual, excited for some pack time." Scott listened to your steady beat, kicking himself for even listening. The ride to Dereks normal while you intently listened to Stiles ramble. It was impossible not to notice that something was bothering Scott, you just hoped it wasn't you.

Scott was the first to knock on the door, Stiles following impatiently while you stood behind the two men. Derek slid the door open, looking over the two men and directly smiling at you, welcoming you all in. You followed closely in behind Stiles, narrowly missing Derek. You sense him reaching forward, out for the small of your back, you quickly stepped out of the way and to the kitchen, hoping your heartbeat was steady. "So what am I making?"

You worked on finishing up the tacos, careful to clean up any mess you made and wash the used pans. You had Liam lay out the table who was cooling off from a tough session with Isaac. He was really slinging the plates down, you put your hand just inches from his, stopping him from laying another plate down, "Liam," his eyes connected with yours, "listen to my heart, get yours to match it." Liam shook his head, starting to lay another plate down, clearly frustrated, but you spoke again, "Liam," you sighed, "it is okay to lose control and get angry, but get it back. Take a breath, control your heart rate, ground yourself." Liam took a deep breath in as you guided him, smiling at you before gently setting the plates down. You could feel the anger dissipating from him as he did.

"Thank you for helping," you muttered as you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, making sure your sleeve covers your bare hand, smiling at him, "I'm gonna go get them." You walked into the training room, sweat and power smacking you in the face, "Dinner's ready!" Scott and Derek let go of each other, playfully draping their arms around each other, "You wanna spar, Y/n?" Derek asked and you laughed, a sound that blessed his ears, "Uh, no thank you, I'll leave that to the big bad wolves." Scott smiled, "Come on! Even Stiles trains!" Stiles jumps at this, pointing to Scott, "Hey!" Causing everyone to erupt into laughter, you smiled, "Who else is gonna cook?" At that Stiles interjected again, heading to the meal, "Not it!"

After you all ate you helped Liam collect and wash dishes, Derek watching you dodge every corner of the tablecloth, studied your moments as you put up pates, careful to not touch them with your bare hands. He thought to himself as he watched you that he was reading way too much into it. That you were just a private polite person, but something was rubbing him the wrong way, something he was missing. As you put away the last dish, Stiles stood up, smiling, "Bye, sour wolf." Derek glared at him but turned to you who was side by side with Stiles, your arm around his waist, also heading out, "See you later, sour wolf."

Scott trailed behind, making sure you and Stiles were out of earshot. "Man, what is your problem I can literally see the fury coming off of you." Derek glared at Scott, "Y/n, she just-" Scott rolled his eyes, "You can't be serious, not with this again." Derek rubbed his face, "Man, I'm telling you," he shook his head, clearly troubled, "She won't let me touch her! At all, I'm talking not even an accidental brush," Derek spoke lower, "She wouldn't train because that causes sweat, we could smell her, won't even touch the tablecloth. She washes every dish she uses, won't touch the plates with her bare hands? The plates?" Scott could tell Derek was genuinely upset by this, "Why does this bother you so much man?" Derek sighed, "I don't know," he drug broth his hands over his face, an attempt to rub the stress away, "I don't think she'd hurt us of course, but she's definitely- Scott, there's too many questions I need answered." Scott sighed, "Okay, if it means that much to you, I'll look into it." Scott started walking and that's when you snapped back into Stiles honking the horn of the car, you giggling with him as Scott came rushing out.

How much longer could you hide your secret?

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

Text

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

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folkloreguk · 4 years ago

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an angel for a demon (3)

A/N: Here's the last part of this small series! You don't necessarily need to read all of them to understand this one, but it does probably make more sense if you do. As always, feedback is deeply appreciated! Have a good day x

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), demon!bias, angel!reader, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), reader gives her first bj

words: ~ 6.7 k

PART1 (M)

PART2 (M)

“I’m going out to pick up some food and stuff, do you want to come along?” you heard him ask. You had your legs up against the wall, your back on the bed, and a magazine in your hands. The women on the pages had you gushing, on the verge of hypnotization. You swore if you looked at those infatuating pictures one minute longer, you’d be swallowed whole by them.

When you had worked your way through some science books and were still hungry for more to read, H/N had brought you some magazines, mostly about fashion but also gossip and lifestyle tips. Turns out letting a clueless angel read about what’s supposed to be good for women was not a smart idea. Up in the clouds, from where you used to watch earth’s women, they had all looked equal to you – beautiful, intelligent, and capable. Now, down in the reality of it all, things appeared much more complicated. Which angel could have known it took diets, workout routines, anti-aging creams and the perfect outfit for your body type to be viewed the same way you had always looked at women from above? And most importantly, how did any woman manage to uphold all these expectations the magazines named? It was all too much and seemingly impossible. Abruptly, you were pulled out of your train of thoughts.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” he asked, peaking his head through the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting down the magazine on your chest. “No, I’d like to stay here.”

“Alright,” he said, “Would you like me to bring you anything from the store?”

He walked over to you and sat on the bed. His hands softly brushed over your hair, down your cheek and neck, barely touching your collarbones. He was in his black, intimidating clothes, per usual, but his eyes held nothing but fondness for you.

“Actually, maybe there is something,” you said. “Look.”

You picked up the magazine and pointed at the page.

“Can you buy me a dress like this one? They say it would fit me best. And could you get some makeup for me? I don’t know much about it, but maybe you-“ you said. Usually, he was one to listen carefully to every of your words, as if you were the most interesting person he had ever met. This time, he interrupted you.

“Stop. Where is this coming from?” he asked. “I want you to forget all those things you’ve read in those magazines, okay?”

You were confused, thinking you were learning by reading those articles. Gently, he caressed your face. “You know I’ll buy you anything in the world, right? But only if that’s what youwant. Everything they tell you to do, everything they tell you to buy, it’s brainwashing. You will wear whatever dress you find pretty, and if you want to wear makeup, that’s fine. But you will only do those things if you want to do them, okay? There’s nothing you need to change about yourself.”

“But they say you need to start early to get a nice body, and to prevent aging,” you said. “They say men will admire me.”

“We’re immortal, my angel,” he said. “And even if we weren’t, what’s wrong with growing old? Wouldn’t you want the traces of your experiences to be visible on your skin? Those companies, they all just want your money and so they try to scare you into believing you’re not good enough. But truth is, you always are. All those times people tug on their skin in front of a mirror, or whenever they break a sweat trying to lose weight, or when they compare themselves to those who look different from them – they’re already good enough. They’re perfect. This worlds wants you to never be at peace with who you are. But you need to promise me you won’t succumb to those nonsensical tactics to make you hate yourself. And don’t you ever wait for a man to give you approval. That’s your job and your job only.”

You listened, wide-eyed and intrigued. No magazine could ever speak so honestly, and you believed every word he said. After all, you trusted him much more than some random author of an article that was trying to sell you the latest weight loss-magic-powder.

“Okay, I promise.” You sat up and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’ve never even really thought about it, but I think I’m pretty.”

“Not thinking about it might just be the best way to go about it in this world,” he said, and placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling of warmth lingered on your skin seconds after he had already pulled away.

“I change my mind, then,” you said, “Do you think you can get me a dress like this?”

You showed him a different picture this time. It showed a lot more skin than the one you had pointed out before. You only realized this when he was already smirking at your choice.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “That’s an interesting option, angel.”

“Hey! I just like the color, alright?” you defended yourself, making him chuckle. Over the course of four weeks, you had come to know his insinuations and his little jokes better. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the incredible sensation his eyes on you gave you. When he goggled at you because you had decided to wear his shirt for a day, or the way he watched you welcome him with open arms when he came home.

You now understood that certain words or actions, or even just an article of clothing – or lack thereof – could conjure an insatiable hunger in his eyes. At first, it was a little scary, having a demon stare you down as if he wanted to eat you up. But now that you knew what his hands felt like on your skin, and that his lips were made for much gentler actions than to hurt you, you wanted nothing more than to coax the starving demon into playing with you, any chance you got. And perhaps that dress in the catalogue would do just that, and not only bring you joy. It was a win-win, really.

“I’ll be back in the afternoon,” he said. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I always do,” you said.

“I’ll give you all the missed attention when I get home, alright?” he said, bending down to your ear. “You can have whatever you want, then.”

To be honest, half of the time you didn’t know what you wanted him to do. But with every time his hands explored your body you learned more. There were so many things humans did to make each other feel good, you doubted you’d ever be able to try everything. His promise made you wish he was already back home when he had barely stepped out of the door. One last grin and nod and he left you alone.

What did angels do on a Saturday noon? Usually, you’d be patrolling your village, entertaining yourself by watching children play tag, admiring lovers walking hand in hand or discovering a family that had just adopted a small animal. Their human eyes shined when they felt happiness, and it was infectious to you. You wanted to send your blessing to all of them, make sure they never felt anything but delight, but you knew that wasn’t how business worked down there. Some things were even out of your control. Now, on earth, you were ready to take whichever hardships were to come if it meant you could have been with your demon lover.

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had only gotten up an hour ago. Last night, you had been kept awake for long. He was untiring when he was between your legs. You had learned that he didn’t need nearly as much sleep as you did, and when he set his mind to making you come by his administrations, he didn’t waver to do so. But losing sleep in exchange for pleasure was okay with you. Time became meaningless, either way, when you had your face buried in a pillow, tears threatening to spill over from how good he made you feel. Sometimes he made you come while sitting in his lap, then you’d cling to him like a baby and muffle your whimpers by pressing your lips against the skin of his shoulder. He loved telling you ‘Look at me’ right when you were falling. It was hard to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head or not to collapse in his arms, but for him you would try your best. Often you found your thoughts lingering on the memory of his gaze when you came apart under his touch. It had something of fascination and protectiveness, and you’d never get enough of it.

Great, now you wanted him again. And he wasn’t here. How had you gotten this way? On occasion you wondered if one of the other angels had already spotted you and the sins you were committing. You wouldn’t call them sins now, or ever again. It wasn’t like you wanted to adapt to a demon lifestyle. But you felt at home for the first time, here on earth. It was the perfect grey zone between heaven and hell.

As an attempt to appease your needy mind, you picked up your magazine again. Just because you shouldn’t believe everything they said didn’t mean you shouldn’t have read it at all, right? You flipped through articles on fitness and the newest fashion, but after skimming the pages for only a few seconds, you were done with those tips. He wanted you because of who you were – an angel – and you doubted than any beauty routine could make him more obsessed with you than he already was. But then you read something most curious to your angel eyes. ‘How to make him feel best – tips from a porn star’ the title said. Whatever in the heaven a porn star was, they seemed to be some sort of expert on pleasuring men, and you, always eager to learn something new, were intrigued from the very first word.

But soon you had to admit, you weren’t at all sure what they were referring to with those words and actions. When you and your demon boyfriend had sex, he usually did most of the work, while you took whatever teasing or pleasure he inflicted on you. He had said he liked it this way, but now you weren’t so sure. Or was this ‘10 things to do become a blowjob-pro’ – list just another attempt of society to brainwash women? You weren’t one to initiate talk about sexual stuff, but maybe you’d try to question him on the meaning of what you had read.

You flipped another page and finally you had arrived at a page you could work with. It was a bunch of comfort food recipes. Right away you fell in love with the picture of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the top right corner. H/N had promised you to teach you how to cook, but so far you hadn’t made much progress. The difficulty level read beginner, and five minutes later you stood in the kitchen. With some music in the background your enthusiasm only sparked more. Baking was new and came with slight overwhelmingness and the stress of making sure you weren’t forgetting to add any ingredient. But the Christmassy scent of cinnamon and the feeling of making something from scratch made you happy, and with rapt attention you finished your first completed recipe ever.

You wiped some flour off your forehead. Hopefully H/N would like the cinnamon rolls too, because as tasty you found your creation, there was no way you were able to devour them all by yourself. As if on cue, you suddenly heard the key slide into the lock of the front door. Probably prompted by the heavenly scent, he called your name.

“Here,” you answered, mouth full of a bite of cinnamon roll. When he walked in, he already had his famous smirk on his face. It was your favorite. You knew it was reserved only for you.

“What did you make?” he asked. But he had his answer when he saw the baked goods in front of you. He set down the bags and put his arms on your waist from behind. With a hum, you lifted the cinnamon roll to his lips, and he took a bite. He almost moaned at the taste and you grinned.

“Do you like them?” you asked, already knowing the answer but still awaiting more praise. You squealed a little at how quickly he spun you around. His nose touched yours and your heartbeat raced.

“It’s like they came with you straight from heaven,” he said. “Hmm…I missed my angel.”

His lips when he kissed you tasted like sugar and spice and you melted straight into his touch. You only noticed he had run his finger over the gooey leftover icing when it was already too late. He was a demon after all. And if demons were good at one thing, it was causing mischief.

“Hey,” you protested at his hands on your neck. Then your reaction quickly altered as his finger slid lower, down to your collar bones and to where your low-cut shirt started. “Great, now I’m all sticky.”

You didn’t understand at first that messing with you wasn’t his full intention. But he tilted his head to the side and ran his hot tongue over the icing on your skin, and you gasped suddenly. This wasn’t just a joke. He wanted you. He made a humming noise, as if the sweetness combined with your own taste were only complimenting each other. When he pulled down the neckline of your shirt a little, so he could have every last drop of the sugary substance on your skin, you couldn’t help but whimper. You wanted so desperately for him to do it again, that you thought about sticking your own fingers into the bowl of icing and smearing it on your chest. His eyes were playful when he looked up at your reaction.

“Oh no. If you’re all sticky I guess you’ll need a shower, will you?” he said, “What a coincidence. I was thinking of taking one, just now.”

You had never taken a shower with him, or anyone, for that matter. But you had a feeling that the both of you wouldn’t be keeping to yourself, standing naked in front of each other. You didn’t mind. And you guessed your approval was written on your face, because he pulled you in and kissed you hard. Again, you remembered the article you had read. Was now a good time to ask him about it?

While you were contemplating, his tongue slid over your bottom lip and met yours. You had been too shy to ask before, but now you were speechless. Gently, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You were a mess of lips and tongues and hands and feet stumbling over each other. Every few meters you stopped to push yourself close against him. It was like a game of who could go without kissing each other for longer. And you were both lousy at it.

He loved pushing you up against the wall, trapping you between his arms on each side of your head. This way, he could brush up against your shaking body and you had nowhere left to go. Needless to say, you had no intentions of getting away, no matter what. He knocked the breath out of your lungs, and you kissed him back like you could breathe him in instead. As if he had become your new source of oxygen, or whatever it was you really needed to survive. It these moments, air seemed like a subsidiary matter. So long as you had his hot tongue licking down your neck and his busy hands on your ass under your dress, nothing else truly mattered.

Your kisses were open-mouthed and far more confident than they had been only weeks ago. You now knew how much he liked when you grabbed his hair tightly, or when you whispered his name against his devouring lips, as if it was the only word you had ever been taught. Like it was the only word you ever wanted to know. Before you had even made it to the bathroom, half of your clothes were scattered somewhere along the way.

“I can’t believe I just had you yesterday and here I am already missing you this much again,” he mumbled against your earlobe, teeth playing with your soft skin. “You really are otherworldly. There’s no other explanation.”

His words made you feel proud. The pleasure was one thing you had come to love quickly, but then you noticed the power you could have over him, by merely existing. It was almost unbelievable, but there he was, hard and needing you, day by day. Again, your mind wandered off to the magazine article.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice must had been different from your usual timid tone when you were in the middle of something unholy.

“Anything, angel,” he said. He let his lips linger on your cheek, half an inch from your mouth, and your stomach twisted in how badly you wanted him to sip on your lips like he was starving.

“Do you like always doing everything when we- ,“ you said. He gave you a puzzled expression, so you tried to explain yourself better. “I mean, if you ever want me to do more, you can ask me to. I don’t know everything yet, but I can learn.”

You weren’t even sure if you understood what the heaven you had just stammered. His look reminded you of the one he had when you asked him to buy him the dress and the makeup that morning.

“I love what we have, little angel,” he said, “What’s making you think you need to do anything differently?”

How were you supposed to explain what you had read when you hadn’t even properly grasped it yourself? You opted for taking his hand and walking him to the bedroom. There the magazine still lay, like an ancient cursed book you weren’t sure you wanted to know front to back. You picked it up and quickly handed him the article. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

His lips curled into a devilish grin upon eyeing the page, and you thought the ground might swallow you whole. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all and spared yourself the embarrassment. But at the same time, you were eager to know.

“I thought I told you, magazines are just trying to make you doubt yourself,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I know, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel as good as you make me feel, I want to do it,” you confessed. He bent down, cupping your face.

“No one’s ever felt as good to me as you have, angel,” he said, “You’re heaven to me. Do you understand that?”

With your mouth squished together slightly, you nodded your head that was in his hands.

“By the devil, you’re so adorable,” he said. “If you really want to know, though, I’ll show you.”

Even more eagerly, you nodded again. He chuckled. You couldn’t handle how handsome he was – all messy hair, bare chest and black eyes that made you dream of the most unholy things possible.

“You remember how I kiss you…down there?” he asked. You hummed, cheeks on fire. “And how I’ve asked you to put your hands on my cock before?”

You did. But it had been brief, only a few pumps and small touches, until he had become too needy. You had been whining so deliciously for him to fuck you and so he had to have you on the spot.

“In the way you touched me then…you could use your mouth on me. Make me come with your perfect lips and sweet hands,” he said. “If that’s what you want, too.”

“I do!” you said with enthusiasm that only an angel at the feasibility of making someone’s day could bring on. “Let’s postpone that shower.”

The pride in his eyes lasted for approximately two seconds before the raw hunger replaced it. He climbed onto the bed and pat his thighs. On command, you settled on his lap. The simple feeling of his bulge under your center, even if interrupted by some fabric, made your head dizzy and your stomach drop. You kneaded your hands, not sure where to touch him first. But just as he always did to you, you had the impulse to start by his head and go lower from there. Although you were on top of him, he looked amused at your shy eyes.

“Can I kiss your neck, like you always kiss mine?” you asked.

“Be my guest,” he said, grinning like he had just won the lottery. Your lips met his skin and you used your tongue the way you had felt him do it. His scent was intoxicating. It made the empty bedsheets you breathed in sometimes, when he left in the middle of the night for his demon antics, seem like nothing. You used your hands to stabilize yourself as you moved lower. The hiss he let out when you felt up on his abs and waistline almost scared you. Then you realized it was a good sign. Only for the blink of an eye you dared to graze your teeth on his skin. His reaction was immediate.

“Shit,” he cussed, “That’s my angel.”

So, he liked that. You couldn’t wait to tease him by biting him in the future. Provoking a demon would have sounded like something close to a death wish to you, had you thought about it months ago. Now, with a demon as tame as they come beneath you, the thought only excited you. As he liked to do, you touched him through his boxers while you continued your journey down his chest and stomach. The guttural moan he released made your head spin and you never wanted him to be quiet. Usually, you weren’t in a mind state to notice his groans, or your own noises were covering his.

“You’re doing so good, little angel,” he said, short of breath. Once again, your effect on him surprised you. Where was the intimidating, big bad demon you had been taunted by?

“I’m gonna fuck you so well for this,” he said, “Even the angels in heaven will hear you scream. Wouldn’t you like that?”

There he was. You pressed your legs together at the simple mention of him inside of you, but if he thought you were going to answer, he’d be waiting endlessly. You still had enough respect for your angels not to think of them in this moment. Nonetheless you hummed weakly. When you got to his hipbone, you hesitated. You drowned out your doubts by kissing him there, while you contemplated what to do next. Your hand was still wrapped around his clothed cock. It was rock hard, and a wet spot had formed on the fabric from how much he needed you. When your touch became softer, and you pulled your hands away slowly, he lifted his hips, not wanting you to stop. You supposed this was the part where you took off his boxers. At least he didn’t complain when you pulled them off his legs, so you assumed you were still on the right track.

Watching his face for signs of approval, your hand wrapped around his length. He almost seemed electrified at your touch. His jaw dropped slightly, and his hooded eyes somehow appeared even darker than usual.

“Just like that,” he said, “And now move your hand up and down.”

So you did. As you regarded your hand around his shaft, all you could think about was how it used to be. How did your hands, that were usually folded neatly in your lap while you looked down on earth, end up doing such ungodly things? And how come you didn’t even for a second feel guilty?

“Angel, you’re so good to me,” he moaned. Angel. That’s what he loved to emphasize. But was that what you were, still? Maybe you would simply stop putting yourself in a box. Perhaps you were just you, doing what you felt was right and would make you happy. And right now, having a demon clench his fists in your hair and saying your name in that tone, you couldn’t think of a lot of incidents that had made you happier. Was this the part where you should use your mouth? You weren’t sure, but your eyes jumped from his cock to his face and it caught his eyes.

“You can take me in your mouth if you want. If you ever feel like stopping, just do so,” he encouraged you, “But remember, no teeth there, okay?”

You grinned and nodded. You parted your lips and your tongue placed kitten licks on the underside of his member. When you reached the top, you took him between your lips, mirroring the motion of your hands around him. You were surprised at how comfortable you were, when ten minutes ago you were ready to personally descend to hell from embarrassment. There was something enticing about the power you possessed in that moment. You understood humans just a little better, once again. Knowing that the way he bucked his hips and his groans were caused by you and only you had you smiling inwardly. It was a way you had never caught yourself smile before. You felt brave, and like you could do anything, with a demon so at your pity.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where he was most sensitive. Whenever you pressed your tongue against the tip of his cock, he let out a sigh. It was almost like relief, as if he had been waiting for you all his life. And now here you were, granting him all his wishes. You bobbed your head, but kept your attention on his sweet spot, his moans just too delightful not to evoke them on purpose.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he said. Often, you looked up at him. His lids fluttered from the pleasure, but he seemed to like it when you made eye contact. For a moment, you lifted your head, needing some air. Gently, he caressed your face, like you were made of precious porcelain.

“Which one of my dreams did you escape from, little angel?” he asked. You smiled sheepishly, lowering your head. Again, you wrapped your lips around his length. You wondered what he was thinking about. Was his mind as free from any worries as yours whenever he fucked you? Was he able to form any coherent thoughts or was his brain going into the same mental blackout you always experienced?

You continued the way you had, sucking the tip of his cock while your hand pumped him. From time to time, you took a breather and pulled away. Little did you know what you were doing to him. With the short intervals of your lips on him and the pauses in between, you unknowingly made everything more intense for him. It was a dangerous game of edging him you were playing, and you were outright unaware of it.

But why would he have complained? In that moment, you were his personal guardian angel, making sure all his needs were fulfilled. When he saw your lips, all red and puffy, he asked himself where you had been hiding all this time. You peeked up at him through your angel eyes and he felt his entire world become whole in front of him. He was completely and absolutely at your mercy, inebriated by your entire being. Never in his long time on earth had he seen someone so ravishingly beautiful, yet so unaware of their might. He swore to himself in that moment, he’d do anything to make you love him forever.

As divinely as you were treating him, he suddenly wanted you in a different way. And if you continued your sweet actions, he wasn’t sure if that would still be possible. He gently cupped your head, making you look up. You hummed in question.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, “Let me give back to you, won’t you? Does my angel want some attention, too?”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t practically touch-starved at this moment. And having been taught to always be truthful, you nodded before you even knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, “Why don’t you take off the rest of your clothes?”

When you got up to slip out of your dress, your legs were weak. You hadn’t even done anything, and yet your body felt heavy. All you wanted was to go back to him and have him so close, it felt like he could have been a part of you. As much as you had felt on top of the world minutes ago, his hungry eyes made you shrink inwardly. But it wasn’t out of fear. It was almost admiration, or rather anticipation. You knew he knew your body inside out, and you couldn’t wait for him to prove it to you.

“Come here, angel,” he said. You climbed back onto the bed. “Turn around for me, okay?”

You were on your knees, sitting up right, facing the headboard. His breath on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. Then his hands snaked around your body from behind you. A small whimper left your lips when he ran them down your chest, fingers drawing small shapes on your breasts. They continued their way down your stomach and to your parted thighs. The cold air was hitting your dripping core, and had you not had enough self-control, you would have moaned at the mere sensation of his fingertips on the inside of your thigh. But maybe that was just what he was waiting for. After all, he was still taking his time with you. But in this instance, you knew what you wanted, and more importantly when you wanted it.

“Please,” you said. You weren’t sure what to say but starting with a ‘please’ was never a mistake.

“Please what?” he asked. You couldn’t see his face, yet you knew his devilish grin that must’ve been plastered on his face. He never missed a chance to make you shy. “Is this what you want?”

He slid two of his fingers down your slit slowly. It would forever be a mystery to you, how such a simple touch could put you in such a mental state of disarray. You whined at how needy you were, fighting the urge to press your legs together. In a second, his fingers were coated in your juices. When he pressed them against your opening, but didn’t push any further, your head spun with frustration. An impulse yelled at you to grab his hand and show him how you wanted him, but you sensed there was a specific aim in his teasing. Above that, you weren’t close to that brave. Purposely lightly, he rubbed circles onto your clit. Your head fell back onto his shoulder and your breaths came out in little, desperate noises.

Before meeting him, you never knew this sort of inability to control your body. Having power over your motions was an obviousness to you. But as with so many things in life, you had been wrong. Or rather, you had not known better. Now, with his lips brushing over the side of your exposed neck, you were willing to let him do whatever he wanted to do to you. If there was a noise or reaction he wanted to coax out of you, he could do so. And if evoking your little melodic whimper was his aim, he was on the right path, fingers teasing your pussy and flicking over your clit. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. In fact, he had a head so full of ideas of things you could do together, you doubted you’d ever start to get bored here.

“I want you…inside of me,” you said, surprising yourself. This was your desperate body taking control of your motor speech center, that little region in your brain that allowed you to let out what you wanted to say. Your cheeks were hot for only a moment, then you realized if it got you what you wanted so badly, speaking your mind was probably a fantastic idea. You should really do it more in the future, you thought.

“What my angel wants, my angel gets,” he said. Just for a few seconds, he moved his fingers much faster. You yelped at the sudden pleasure, your hand wrapping around his wrist. His other hand reached for your hand, softly taking it away as you became a whimpering puddle in his arms. You were ready to fall, give in to the pleasure and let go. It was what you so desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had begun, he removed his hands. His attention was gone, and you were left yearning for more.

“Lift your hips,” he said, softly touching your sides. A part of you wanted to cry out, hold him responsible for denying you your sweet release. But you knew it would be no use, and he would tell you to wait either way. You were still on your knees, but straightened up, arms hanging by your sides, waiting for his touch. He was right behind you, his upper body against yours. When you felt his cock run over your slick folds, you sighed at the awaited sensation. The stretch when he filled you up felt so perfect, so out of this world, you reached for his hand to hold on to.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier if you wanted me so bad?” he asked. He squeezed your hand as his other pulled you flush against his back while he pushed himself further into you. He’d thrust against you for a while, only to pull out completely, and repeat the whole process. It was sending you into complete overdrive.

“Because I wanted to make you feel good,” you said. “Only you, for once.”

You moaned when he snapped his hips against your ass, picking up the pace. In an attempt to support your jittery legs, you grabbed the headboard in front of you. Your breathing came out in short huffs, uneven and a little shaky.

“You’re so sweet and selfless…my patient angel,” he said, his fingers coming in contact with your clit again. His touch was an allure to you, and you wished you could have stayed this way forever. No thoughts, just his body and his dark voice to sedate your mind. “I’ll give you anything you want. You know that, right?”

You hummed and nodded. “Yes. And I’ll do the same for you.” Your words were interrupted by your small whimpers. There had been a time you didn’t know what it felt like, when you didn’t even know there was a such thing of having someone inside of you. Now you couldn’t get enough of him. You were already so sensitive that every time he quickened his thrusts and moved his fingers on you slightly faster, he had you hanging right over the edge. And he could tell by the way you held your breath when you were close. He didn’t want you going there just yet.

“As much as I love your mouth around my dick, this is my favorite way of having you,” he said. He used both of his hands to dig into your sides, pulling your hips closer to him every time he dragged his cock through your walls. You agreed. Should any of your angels ever catch wind of this, they would ban you to earth – or worse, send you to hell. So be it, you thought. You’d be like your lover. One of the creatures of the darkness, thought to be the personification of sin. Even if they ripped your angel title from you, they could never steal away what you had now.

Yes, you were meddling with a demon, but also having the time of your life. It was vastly better than spending your days judging humans for being themselves and for humans living the true way they want to live, instead of abstaining from the simple pleasures of life. Their true colors shown, they weren’t harming anybody, but rather making the world a more acceptable and open-minded place. You aspired to be like them.

“This is my kind of heaven,” he said. It’s what he always called you. Heaven. He groaned when you clenched your walls around him, your inevitable high drawing closer.

“This is my new heaven…you are,” you replied. He chuckled darkly, probably relishing in your confession. The thought that he could make an angel reject the very place they should have belonged filled him with a sense of superiority.

“Look how well you’re taking me,” he said. His hand wrapped around your body, pulling you tighter. He slipped his hand between your legs again, and you almost felt like collapsing, had he not held on to you. On instinct, you closed your eyes and let the feeling crash over you.

“Let me see you come, little angel,” he spoke in your ear, just for you to hear. You would do anything for him. You quivered and buckled at the severity of the feeling, but he had you. Your moans were high and dragged out, as his digits pressed harder onto the sensitive nub on your center.

“Take just a little more for me, can you?” he asked. You obliged willingly, nodding your head while it was still full of nothingness. Even as he kept fucking you, it was pure bliss for another while. It made your legs shake a little, but you felt so safe there, in his embrace, the sensitivity was alright to handle. You could tell by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming that he was almost there, too. He was pressing you against his chest as if you were all he ever wanted. His moans sounded like home to you as he came. He said your name and bent forward, reaching for the headboard, but you both tumbled into the bedsheets together instead. You giggled at your shared clumsiness and you could feel his chest move from laughing as he was lying on top of your back.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, “You’re amazing.”

You turned your head and his lips brushed along your temple, kissing you softly. He brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes so you could look at him. Seeing his beautiful face had you falling into an even deeper state of serenity.

“I want to cuddle,” he said, and it was probably the sweetest thing you had ever heard a demon say. As he rolled off you, you followed his movements and settled in his embrace. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, but neither of you cared enough to get up just yet.

“I love what you’ve done to me,” you said.

“What is it I have I done to you?” he asked, fingers drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of your bare hips.

“You changed me. But not in a bad way. You let me be who I want to be and showed me that that’s okay,” you said, “You made me understand. Some sins aren’t that sinful at all.”

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