#rectangles when he’s standing up

[rescuebotsoutofcontext]

[sansofhumor]

A fresh 2am thought:

Prerequisite readings: like sans can change what map he's standing in, and also pause the game, Papyrus can turn off collisions and has an impeccable sense of the map renders

Imagine: sans and papyrus pop into the undertale world (possibly in the core) unceremoniously one day. By virtue of coming from another world they have weird powers and they are figuring them out on the fly.

Papyrus manages to turn off collisions in several key areas of hotland causing two things to happen in a butterfly effect: 1. The royal scientist falling into his own creation and 2. The discovery that air vent puzzles are a more reliable transport than bridges

Resulting in, well, the royal scientist disappearing, and also Papyrus' dislike of hotland.

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[hoshigray]

iillly happy bday bbgggg pls BULLY SATORUUUUU pleasepleaseoHFGOSH

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THANK YOU AND BET !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting; you + satoru are juniors - sex in a public space; library study room - breast fondling + nipple play - sex on a table - overstimulation - pet names (crybaby, cutie, pretty girl) - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap that shit up, kiddos ) - mention of cervix and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k

“Ahhaaa! Thhh, shtopp! T’oo fast…!!”

“Yeah, goin’ too fast? Hnnmm, shit…tell that to your hips.”

This is not how this day was supposed to go, but that’s what having a bully in your life is like, right?

Today was one of those days where you’d spend most of your leisure time studying and catching up on upcoming coursework before the weekend, savoring your free days to rest and do some light reading for Monday. So here you were, spending the Thursday evening at the library in a study room you reserved until closing time. Fingers are typing away on your keyboard, putting words to your Word document while taking pieces of your french fries to munch—your study snack from the dining hall. 

And everything was going swimmingly, feeling the groove of things operate accordingly while bumping to your music.

Until your eyes snap to the door opening, and they widen at the sight of the culprit. Snow white hair and round glasses, and your stomach drops. “G-Gojo?”

“Yo!” He chips with a smirk, stepping inside and closing the door with his heel. You could’ve sworn you locked that door, but you’re sure it is now after he does it for you. “I knew I saw you walking out from the dining hall; the nerd is all cooped up in the library. Whatcha up to?”

“I, umm,” your gaze moves to your Word document, not wanting to see Gojo walk to where you’re sitting at the rectangle table. “J-Just, getting ready for a group seminar tomorrow…Need my notes ready.”

The tall boy slides his backpack off and drops it to the chair on the side of the table. His closing the door blinds and striding back to you grows the unsettling feeling in your tummy. “Ehhh, notes? Must be bored.”

“Not really…” It’s challenging to channel your focus on something productive when you watch from your peripheral with every step he takes until he’s behind you. “Just need to answer four more questions, and then I’ll,” your body rigid when he places his hands on your shoulders—there’s no escape now. “…I’ll be done.”

“Mmmm,” he hums and puts his chin to your head. “Working so hard, huh?” He kneads your shoulders and travels down to your arms. “I think it’s about time you give yourself a break.”

“Gojo, please,” pleads teeter out your mouth, yet your futile attempt to stand is refuted.

“Whaaat? You gotta give yourself breaks, right?” He moves his face to your shoulder to whine. “Can’t help a friend relax for a bit from studying?”

You open your mouth to respond, but words don’t leave your lips—a moan is snuck out from his hands, finding your chest. Sneaking inside your shirt to cup and soft mounds behind your bra. “Nnnn, n-no, we can’t…not here—“

“Psshh, you’re no fun, baby,” he coos to your ear, tweaking a nipple for you to squeak. “It won’t be for long, promise. Besides,” you turn to him, his blue orbs seen better from the dark shades now that you’re closer. “No one knows better to care for you than me, right? C’mon, just five minutes, and I’ll go, ‘kay?”

Your stomach has not stopped contorting knots ever since you saw that door open, and now you’re in a dilemma you prayed wouldn’t happen today. Regardless, you only have to give him what he wants, and you can return to work. So, you swallow your pride and kiss him on his soft lips. 

“—Ohhhh, y-you said for fi—Iiiive minutes…!!”

“Hahhh, did I say that? Heh, must be bad with time.”

Deliberately making a supposed five-minute break turn into nearly thirty minutes isn’t terrible with time—just plain ignorant. 

Your laptop, course material, and Gojo’s shades are pushed further into the table, substituting them with your figure to be laid on the edge of the table surface. Your bottoms and panties were stripped to the ground with Gojo’s jeans, your sexes exposed and now joined in the union as he propels his hips to pound into your chasm. Your cunt was a mess, slick, and come mixed and collecting in a soapy ring with the back-and-forth motions of your junior bully. 

The walls of the library rooms aren’t the best, nearly paper-thin to hear convos from one room to the other. You bite your lips to try to conceal your cries, but the curve of Gojo’s dick poking your walls have you screaming silently. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he intentionally grinds his pelvis to your folds, the broken wails egging him on to tease you more. “Scared someone will come and find us, huh? Scardey-cat,” the hands to your wrists pull you in with every rut. 

“Gaaahh, Gojooohhh,” your brows sewn together after the stimulation of your G-spot is hit yet again. “I’m sens’tiveee, go sloooww!”

“Shiiiit, that’s kinda hard when you’re clenching me so hard,” he hisses with a sigh. “Pretty much asking for me to mess you up.”

You shake your head at the brush of his tip hitting your cervix. “Ahaaaa, ohhJesus,” tears well up in your eyes with another jab to your womb.

“Oh, is the lil’ nerd about to cry?” Gojo bends down to you while his hips keep working, his flushed face inches closer to yours, and he wipes a tear with a thumb. “Awww, don’t do that; don’t want people next door to see what’s up with you.” His thumb enters your mouth, your tongue tasting your salty tear.

You sob on his digit, licking his thumb, and more twitches of your vagina come from more grazes on your inner texture. “Nhhooh, ahhhmyGod, good, feels tew goood…!”

Gojo can feel it; you’re clasping onto his length way too much not to notice. He snickers, “Gonna cum, baby?” You nod hurriedly, and he brings his forehead onto yours. “Want me to help you with that?” Too enraptured that you don’t notice him sneaking his hand to your lower half and a pinch to your clitoris has you cry. “Shhh, shhh,” he coaxes to your ear, his thumb swiping on the bud as you sob in parts. “Go ahead, wring me out, you slutty crybaby.”

Another pinch, and you’re contracting around him hard. Your orgasm hits you right there, the hot feeling of your body is washed with a sharp cold that rattles your legs. Hands come and grip the back of Gojo’s long sleeve, your cunt flitting on him as your body jolts from pleasure.

Gojo hurries to pull out and stroke his cock, his seed spilling out to paint your messy slit with the come oozing out from your hole. He throws his head back in bliss. “Shit, that felt good.”

“I,” you are stuck in a daze, yet you try to communicate. “I have to…get back to studyinng.”

“You still have some of those pills from last time?” You nod slowly as he brings his briefs and jeans back on. “Good! Be right back; gonna get some wipes from the restroom.” He then leaves and closes the door on his way out, leaving you cold and helpless on the table surface.

And now you know. Note to self: lock the door whenever you study at the library.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[angelfrombeneth]

THE NOT SO SECRET, SECRET - P . PARKER

Mature Content Ahead

Peter Parker (Tom) x Stark!Reader

Summary: You and Peter are sneaking around but how secret is your secret?

Warnings: SMUT

You and Peter have been hooking up for a while. Since your dad brought him to the compound you've been around eachother a lot. Your dad still doesn't know about your late night rendezvous with Peter, and you'd like to keep it that way.

You are Tony's eldest daughter. You aren't an avenger and he wanted you to steer clear of that life but you refused to live with Pepper and Morgan because you wanted atleast a bit of action. You're like any teenage girl going to school, having boy problems. You decided to join the cheer squad for Midtown High, considering you train daily with Nat you might aswell put it to good use.

You were one of Tony's prized possessions he held you really close. Daddy's girl if you will. You were extremely smart and he used your mind to his gain with Avenger tasks which you were more than happy to help with. It was a perfect arrangement. It got even more perfect when Peter arrived at the compound 2 years ago. Both of you being the same age, go to the same school, yet you'd never seen him before. The pair of you instantly connected becoming friends at the compound and at school, but then it became more.

You hopped out of the shower, pulling on a cropped tank top over your bare chest with some shorts. You pulled your hair from the shower cap, running your fingers through it as you smiled.

"The Avengers are back Miss Y/N" FRIDAY filled the room.

"Thanks FRIDAY" You smiled, before grabbing a clip and clipping your hair back in a loose ponytail before skipping down the stairs.

"God I'm exhausted" Thor groaned, throwing himself on the couch.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, turning the corner and leaning against the door frame staring at them all. "Long day?" You chirped.

You watched as Peter's head raised and his eyes shot daggers at you. He scanned your body, continously. You were satisfied with this.

"Y/N, Have you done your homework" Tony emerged from his side office just off the livingroom as he stood, fixing his shirt cuffs.

"Yes, Dad" you groaned.

"Good, that's my little girl" He smiled at you before turning to everyone in the room. "All of you come with me" He stated before walking towards the conference room before halting. "Not you Parker" As he looked at Peter.

The rest of the Avengers piled into the conference room before the door shut.

"Aww, Poor Parker being left out" You cooed, walking over and standing above him as he settled into the couch.

Peter looked up at you, sighing as he reached to touch your thighs, holding the flesh just below your ass. "I can have much more fun out here with you" He smiled.

"I'd love that but, I'm tired" You snickered. You leaned over, giving him a perfect view down your shirt as you pecked his lips softly. "Tah tah!" Before turning around and running off upstairs.

That night, Peter had plenty of food for thought, the way your ass spilled from those tight ass shorts you wore or the way your nipples stayed harder under your tank top. He couldn't help but think about you.

THE NEXT MORNING

"Morning" You smiled, as you walked into the dining room, leaning over Steve as you grabbed a waffle, taking a bite. You stood in your Midtown High cheer uniform, decked in Blue, White and Yellow. Your hair up in a high ponytail as your sleek silver rectangle reading glasses rested upon your nose.

"Morning Y/N, You got cheer today?" Steve smiled as he held your waist as you leaned against him.

"Yep!" You popped the 'P' as you smiled at him, "You coming to class Peter" You smiled up at him.

His eyes were already trained on you, burning through your clothes as if he was trying to see you without them.

"Yes- Of course" He stumbled over his words.

"God Parker, that reminds me. You whine like a bitch" Bucky scoffed.

"What-" He looked to Bucky confused.

"I've never know someone to moan like a bitch like you do" Bucky laughed, earning a snicker from Thor and Sam.

"Aww Bucky leave him alone" Nat scolded him.

"Yeah! And besides, what's wrong with that Buck? I love a whiney man" You smirked, watching as Peter choked on his water. Everyone laughed as Peter grew redder in the face "Anyway, catch up Parker. Im not waiting for you!" You cheered before walking out.

Peter instantly scrambled behind you, grabbing his bag and hoodie before darting out the door after you.

"Ten bucks, they'll hook up" Nat spoke.

"20, they already are hooking up" Buck, leaned back in his chair smirking.

"You think? He follows her like a lost puppy" Sam started.

"Even more so, I'm seeing it" Thor thought.

"We'll see" Nat raises her mug smiling to Bucky.

"Little Stark definitely has him on a leash" Sam laughs.

THAT EVENING

You sighed, walking back into the compound, dropping you bag on the floor by the door to the kitchen as you walked over to the fridge.

"Rough day?" You heard, as you bent down to grab a waterbottle from the bottom draw of the fridge. You turned around to see Peter leaning against the door frame in loose joggers and a compression shirt.

You hummed as you twisted the cap off the waterbottle, taking a sip as Peter made his way over to you.

"Missed you today, you were so busy with cheer I didn't see you" He huffed, placing a hand on your waist, his other hand moving the hair from your ear as he peppered kisses down your neck.

You smiled, placing the water bottle down on the counter as you turned to look at Peter, your hand instantly lost within his locks. You sighed, your hand dropping to the back of his neck as you pulled him towards you, your lips landing upon his.

This kiss was slow and soft, your lips moving against one another's as his hands slid down to your ass, kneading at it as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You hummed, pulling him closer, both your arms wrapping around his neck as your tongue toyed with his, pulling him as close as you could as the pair of you pratically exchanged DNA.

Peter pulled away, panting softly as he smirked as you, the pair of your lips, slightly red and swollen. "Upstairs?" He quirked his eyebrow as you smirked nodding before taking his hand and leading him up to his room.

"We can't do it in my room, someone will tell my dad" You whispered walking down the hall past a few avengers bedrooms.

You made it to Peter's room. He grabbed your waist yet again crashing his lips onto yours as you sighed. His hands tightly on your hip as the kiss deepened. His lips, softly and flush against yours as his tongue subtly slipped in and out.

You leaned back against his door, feeling for the handle as you pushed it open, the pair of you stumbling in the room before Peter slammed it shut with his foot.

Breaking away as you kicked off your shoes and climbed onto his bed, he stood striking down at you.

"FRIDAY, Lock the door. No one can come in" He smirked.

"Door is locked Mr Parker" FRIDAY chimed back.

"All to myself" He smirked, peeling his shirt off and dropping his joggers as he dove ontop of you, kissing you again as his hands found themselves all over your body.

You giggle, your lips against his as you kiss him back before he pulls away, his lips against your neck, sucking at the skin as you sighed, your hands running over his bare back.

He pulled away for a moment, pulling your cheer dress over your head and throwing it across the room, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Didn't know you were that needy Parker" you laughed, his hands instantly on your bra as he yanked it down, his hands kneading at your breasts.

"I'm going to make you feel so good" He smirked, his hands reaching you unclasp your bra before tossing it aside as his mouth latched onto one of your breasts.

You gasped, biting your lip as his hands held your waist as you manurved to straddle him as he leaned against the headboard.

You sat up, yanking his boxers down to his knees as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach as you smirked. You grabbed a condom from his drawer, ripping it open abs sliding it down his length as you smirked. His eyes trained on you as his mouth was still full of your breast.

"Gunna ride you" You hummed, your hand sliding up his length as you sighed, pulling your panties aside as you pumped him a few times before slowly settling yourself down on his cock. Gasping for a moment as he penetrated through.

"So fucking hot" Peter mumbled, his hands on your boobs, squeezing them as he peered at you.

Your hips began to rock back and forth, rolling down against him as you hummed, the feeling of him curving up into you, drove you insane.

You hummed, biting your lower lip holding a pout as you tried to control yourself against the pleasure. Peter's mouth suctioned onto your breast, as his hand kneaded the other as you continued to rock your hips back and forth.

"You are such a boob guy" You let out a soft chuckle, your hand caressing through his hair as you sighed, swivelling your hips further against Peter.

A soft pop sounded the room as his mouth withdrew from your skin. "Mhm- How can I not be" He pecked your lips softly, as he shimmied back, leaning back against the headboard, spreading your legs with his as he began to thrust up into you.

"Ah!-" You yelped out, the thrusts throwing your body forward against his, your hands slithered up to grab the headboard as you attempted to steady your breaths between thrusts. "Nghh- there.. please-" You pleaded as hus hands gripped your hips tighter as he thrusted harder into you.

"Good girl-" He hummed, pushing up with his calfs, the position changed as you fell back against the foot of the bed, your back against the sheets as Peter got ontop of you, your legs clamped around his waist as his lips Instantly attached to your neck, sucking the skin harshly as his hips buckled into yours.

"Oh my god!-" You gasped, clawing at his back as you yanked his hair his eyes connecting with yours as you pulled him into a deep kiss. The pair of your lips locked messily, your tongues darting against one another as his pace became consistent.

You'd break away and take breaths as you yelped each time Peter pulled out and thrusted in once again- the feeling was amazing.

Your hand slid up to his neck, as you applied slight pressure as his eyes rolled back slightly and his pace sped up.

"Nghh- You like that- you like when I do this Pete?" You gasped, your hand toying with the grip on his neck as he pistoned faster into you- your voice cracking with moans as he continued.

A soft whine left his lips as he continued to thrust, a smile upon your lips at his sounds.

"M-mhm close" He groaned.

You placed a hand on his chest, signalling him to slow down as you slowly climbed out from under him as you smiled, getting onto all fours.

"I want you to cum in me Pete.." You smile back at him.

Peter quickly kneeled, gripping your ass as he slapped it, yanking the condom off his cock tying it n dropping it into his bedside bin- before rubbing his tip against your slit as you hummed.

"Is it safe to" His touch was soft against you.

"Shut up, I don't care" You pouted looking back at him.

With that he bottomed out, grasping your hips harsh as his bare cock thrusted into you- A whine behind you as he could feel every. single. inch.

"You've been such a good boy, I'd treat you, now fill me up" You leaned back against his chest, your hand on his cheek as you pecked his lips.

His hand pushed you back down into all fours as he thrusted into you.

Your back arches as you hummed, his pelvis thrusting into you as your eyes closed, gripping the sheets as you took it all in.

"Doing so good f'me" Peter mumbled from behind you, kissing your shoulder as he leaned over you, hand caged around your waist as he continued to thrust into you like a rabbit in heat.

You nodded as you sighed, your head hanging forward as he continued to thrust. Your body growing slightly tired as you whined, letting put a soft whine with each thrust.

"Faster.." You sighed, turning back and looking at Peter.

A wide smirk, spread across his face as he lifted you up to lean back against his chest, your lip between your teeth as you reached back, wrapping your arms round the back of his head.

"Such a good girl for me... If only everyone know how much of a good girl you were" He kissed your cheek, his hands snaking around your found as he gripped your tits. Peter was definitely a tit guy, every chance he could, he'd be holding them.

His lips on your neck, as he began to nip at the skin as his pace began to pick up. You croaked out a squeak as your body recoiled against the thrusts at first, soft hums leaving your lips as he'd thrust in and out of you.

You stayed like that for a while, both in such an intimate position but that was till Peter couldn't take it anymore. His hand harshly pushing you back down onto all fours as he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pummelled into you.

"FUCK- mhmphh!-" You screamed, throwing your face forward into his pillow, muffling any noises that came from you as he thrusted. Your ass slapping against his skin as he sped up. Soft groans leaving his lips as he was chasing his high. You were already so close, you were just waiting for him- but you don't think you could last much longer.

"Yes- Fuck.. Yes! I'm cumming-" Peter whined, his hand thrown over his face as his thrusts became sloppy as he bottomed out, thrusting harshly once more before pouring his load into you.

You also, releasing at the same time, letting out a loud screech at you fisted the sheets as you grit your teeth.

The pair of you panting heavily as Peter slowly pulled out, groaning as he collected any escaping and thrusted it back into you a few times.

"Mhpmh-" You whined slightly as he did so.

"Sorry" He laughed, pulling away as he layed next to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his side.

You smiled, pecking his lips softly before laying your head on his chest.

"That fucking uniform does something to me, I was thinking about you all day" He laughed, as you rolled your eyes chuckling.

The pair of you stayed there for a few more minutes before Peter carried you into the shower, where you two yet again couldn't keep your hands off one another.

THE NEXT MORNING

"I'll take that 20 bucks now Nat" Bucky walks into the seating area with a coffee in his hand.

"What?" Nat looked up at him, confused.

"I was up all night because of those kids- I told you they were hooking up" Bucky rubbed his head, groaning.

"I knew it" Sam smirked.

Nat groaned before leaning over and giving Bucky 20 dollars, of which he was very happy about.

"Morning!" You smiled, definitely a pep in your step as you walked into the lounge area wearing just a large tshirt.

They all turned to look at you, shocked at the sudden entrance, but even more shocked when they noticed the marks all over your neck to your legs. Bite marks, hickies and mysterious bruises.

"What?- Is there something on my face?" You reached to rub your face.

"You look like an animal has attacked you-" Sam chuckled.

You rolled your eyes at him.

Peter came behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek softly.

"Look, I know you guys know and my dad isn't here right now, so I'd just appreciate if you all didn't tell him" You smiled, your hand reaching your caress Peter's hair.

"Didn't tell me what?"

You all froze. Especially Peter.

[jo-speaks]

POV: you’re at your wedding reception with Luke and you do that trend when your bridesmaids hand him risqué Polaroid pictures throughout the night to get his reaction

WEDDING NIGHT SHENANIGANS

overview: luke gets a few early gifts on your wedding night.

warnings: suggestive content below the cut, mentions of alcohol consumption (other than that it's pretty smooth sailing)

note: this might be one of my favs honestly. thank you for requesting nonnie 🫶

Today didn’t feel real. As of an hour and fifteen minutes ago, you were officially Mrs. Luke Hughes. The ceremony had gone exactly as planned, your wedding dreams coming to life with the man you love waiting for you at the altar. 

Now, you were sitting at the table with Luke, his hand on top of yours as it rested on his thigh, thumbing at the wedding ring that found itself around your finger. You laughed as you watched Jim and your father attempt to do the worm on the dance floor. 

“He’s too old to be doing this.” You joked, your husband laughing along with you.

“You’re telling me.” He replied.

The two of you shared a smile, something that had been happening since the first look. He watched with admiration as the purple strobe light hit your face, illuminating your features. Luke cupped your cheek, the cool feeling of his wedding band sending a chill down your body as he pulled you in for a loving kiss. 

You pulled away after a few seconds, your lips lingering with his. Even with the sweet moment, you decided now was as good a time as any to give Luke a gift. One he could carry in his wallet, glove box, or anywhere else he wanted to get a good look at you when he was away.

“I’ll be right back. M’gonna go talk to my mom.” You whispered, placing a parting kiss on his cheek before standing up and making your way to the table at which his mother and yours were sipping wine. 

One of your bridesmaids noticed you flash her a glance, effectively receiving the signal that it was go time. She grabbed it from her purse before making her way over to Luke.

As she approached, he met her eyes and flashed her a friendly smile, not expecting her to have something to give him. She handed him the Polaroid face down, giggling slightly before walking away again. 

Luke raised an eyebrow before he flipped it over, the other eyebrow coming up as well. In his hand was a picture of you in lingerie, posed in a risque position. A heavy blush rose to his face, hidden by the strobe lights which had now turned red. He could feel himself getting aroused, but not yet to the point where it would be noticeable if he stood up. 

“Lukey! Get over here and come dance!” Quinn called out to his younger brother, not knowing of the gift he just received. 

Luke quickly nodded, stashing the picture in his inner suit pocket, standing up to join his brothers on the dance floor. He snuck a glance at you, seeing you be so innocent and friendly as you chatted with his mother.

~✩~

It had been a few minutes since he received the first of many images for the night. He had processed the first one, not letting it distract him during the dance-off your, now intoxicated, friend had started. Your families and friends had been split up onto the two sides of the floor, one of your best friends currently going against Nico, one of Luke’s best men. 

The room erupted in laughter as Nico began doing what looked like an interpretive dance as she attempted to breakdance. In the midst of all the chaos, another one of your bridesmaids had managed to sneak to the other side, her eyes darting around to find your husband. 

She found him, subtly sneaking up to poke his arm. He looked down at her, seeing she was holding out her hand to silently tell him to do the same. Once he did, he was blessed with another Polaroid. 

He blushed, anticipating what he would be met with as soon as he turned it over. Luke cupped his hand along the side of it as he flipped the small rectangle, his smile widening as he took in the contents of this one.

This time, it was a picture of you covering your breasts with your hands, the rest of your body still on display. Luke covered his face with his hands, catching the attention of his former teammate, Ethan. 

“You alright, man?” He asked, noticing the joyful look on his friend’s face.

Luke nodded, running his hands down his face before they fell back to his side, “I’m good. My girlfriend thinks she’s quite the comedian though.”

“You mean your wife?” Ethan corrected, laughing at the way Luke’s smile grew at the new title. “Well, from the times I’ve met her, she’s fucking hilarious.”

“You have no idea.”

~✩~

The night was still young, the party still thriving. 

By now, Luke had received six more polaroids, all of them making it extremely difficult for him to keep back from dragging you away from the celebration.

However, he managed to keep his composure, laughing with you as the two of you watched, yet again from your table, as Jack got whisked away by three children you recognized as your cousins, all of them bombarding him with questions about hockey.

“You having fun?” You yelled, wanting your voice to be audible over the music.

Luke side-eyed you, a smile tugging at his lips, “This is the most fun night I’ve ever had in my life, baby.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond as you noticed your maid of honour approaching the table. Luke started laughing, rubbing his hands together as he knew exactly what she was bringing him. His reaction caused you to giggle uncontrollably, not expecting him to be this excited.

He put his hands out in front of him like a child begging for candy as she proudly placed the image in his palms. Luke excitedly turned it over, his eyes shutting as he put his head down, his brain short circuiting as he took in the picture. 

This one was you, fully nude, his initials inked into your skin right on your hip. You knew exactly which one this was, having planned the best for last. 

In the previous pictures, your panties had been on in order for the tattoo to be a surprise. You had gotten it a few weeks ago, wanting it to be healed in time for your wedding night, and it had been a struggle to keep it from Luke. Thankfully you had managed to keep the secret, making this moment that much more special.

“Do you actually-” He cleared his throat to compose himself, “Is that actually on your skin?”

You smirked, “Yeah. Thought you’d like it as much as I do.”

By now, the blood had not only rushed to his face, but to his cock as well. He reached over to hold your hand, gripping it slightly to keep his composure as he leaned over, his lips right by your ear.

“Enjoy the night, baby. Because the second we get out of here you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

[deaconusdelirium]

ᰔᩚ Older bf!Simon indulging his kid at heart

-

Simon never really minded the fact that his childhood was stripped from him, it happened, it’s over, what can he do about it? Nothing. Best move on to more important things. He thinks about it, but it no longer effects him. He’s human, so at some point he’s going to watch a kid play to their hearts content like it was a foreign thing to him

Simon who raises a brow at every little thing you do when he finally starts to love you. Watching you stare at the toy section a little too long before picking out a coloring book and even longer at the crayon section. The basket in the crook of his elbow as he crossed his arms.

“What’s the difference, luvie? They all color the same” he huffed quietly, earning a soft glare in return. “Oh hush, they’re not the same. See? These ones are pastels, these ones have glitter, this one has forty colors-” you go on as he rolls his eyes and stares off down the aisle. His attention immediately being brought back as you all of a sudden stop. Then he seen what you were eyeing. The colored pencils. He looked at them and then at you before sighing and walking over. Grabbing them and show them to you. “What’s the deal with this one?” He asks, trying to find the difference yet again between the crayons and then pencils. You step forward and then smile almost sadly. “I’ve never really had colored pencils, always seen them but my parents told me they’d go in the trash one way or another” you replied. He didn’t even think twice before putting them in the basket

Simon who watches you later on that night color in the first page that stands out to you. Seeing you color outside the lines but never really seeming to mind. “Inside the lines, darlin” he mumbled as he laid in bed. One arm propping him up as you laughed softly, “oh hush, leave me alone. I like it” you smiled, “you like it messy?” He asked, “well… when you put it that way it sounds sloppy. But everyone always got mad that I colored outside the lines. Found being too perfect was always boring and never really fun. But I like this” you leaned back, looking at the paper as he nodded. Picking up a pencil and then gave a small scribble to the paper.

Simon who finds comfort in walking beside you down a sidewalk. At first he was confused, one second you both were walking and the next he was yanked back, “what’s wrong?” He looked around for any sign of trouble, then looked down at you, realizing you were counting your steps in the large rectangles in the concrete. “I stepped four steps in the last block, if I take another step, this one will be five” you muttered. Deciding not to question it, he picked you up, setting you in the next block and started walking along side you again. Now every time you walk together, he counts how many steps you take in each one, stopping and waiting for you if you need to jump a little or if you mess up your numbers, “you’re at three, luv”

Simon who pretty much never questions anything you do anymore, you want something? He’ll get it for you. Even if it’s a little bottle of bubbles, he’ll grab an extra bottle just so that if you ever run out, you’ll have another. He won’t admit it, but likes seeing which bubble will last the longest before popping

Simon who goes shopping with you and helps you pick out a stuffed animal, which turns into stuffed animals. “Oh- look at this one Si, this one’s a seal” you picked up a chunky looking stuffed animal. Giving a squish before holding it out to Simon, who gives a squish and then takes it into his large calloused hands. Scrunching it a few times and lays his head on it, then nods. Looking at the others, “look at this one, babe, it’s a shrimp” he chuckles, picking it up and showing you. A smile blossoming on your face as you grab it. You both going home with stuffed animals of your own, who later get turned into cuddle buddies. Sedrick the Shrimp and Samuel the Seal

Simon who will bring you your favorite lunch with a nice drink on the side to your work. Walking in pass the reception desk and into your office, seeing that you’re on a call, he holds your food so he can personally give it to you as he walks around the place. Mindlessly playing with a few little trinkets you got lying around. He puts the bag of food between his chest and arm, the drink in his hand while his other squeezes the chicken stress ball. Giving a small chuckle as its eyes pop out with every squeeze. Then he finds another little toy. A crane of sort that has a string attached to the tip that’s holding a ring at the end. A small hook on the beam as he tries to get the ring onto the hook. Giving a quiet “yes” as he finally gets it. Then hands your food over with a kiss when you’re done

Simon who stays up with you one night, not having to worry about waking up early for work. So he has you get up, telling you he’s hungry and that he wants to get something to eat. Then when you tell him you have to get ready. He protests, pulling your hand and tells you that he’s not going out to impress anyone and that he’d rather you be comfortable than walking around fully dressed with your clothes you wanted to wear tomorrow, just to get fast food. Tells you that he feels better when you feel good. Both of you don’t have to worry about the burdens of adult life that early morning

Simon who goes to the Lego section with you- well, more like he drags you to the Lego aisle. Telling you that he likes this one he seen a few days ago. Pretends to look for it when he made it up as an excuse so you two could actually look for something to build together. “Look at this one love, it’s a picture frame” he holds up a box, showing you. “I like that one, but I also like this camera one” you also hold up the box, he looks between the two. Eyes darting to the side before something catches his eye. “Baby, look. These are bracelets, you put little legos on them”. He immediately grabs the box, dropping them all into the cart, not even minding the price it’ll come out to. “We should look at the friendship bracelets” he buys you the bracelets anyways, going home and building the legos together, putting a Polaroid of you two beneath the camera one. Putting a picture in the picture frame one, and you both wearing the lego bracelets

Simon who picks out baby clothes, not boring bland pink or blue ones. No, those are too cliche, no, he wants something that will make those beautiful eyes he knows your little baby have, pop out. Even if he has to special order a few clothes and blankets, he’ll do it. Little onesies that have pictures of Sedrick and Samuel that were obviously custom made by the best and most liked shop.

Simon who signs your little one up for whatever their heart desires. They want to try soccer? He’s going to buy them a small goal and a ball so they can practice in the backyard of your home. They see an event coming into town and they want to go? He’s more than willing to take them. They want money for a book fair? He knows the teachers are assholes so he waits until they get home so he can go back with them. Helping them pick out whatever their little heart wants. Erasers, book marks, little toys, it’s all theirs. They want extra cuddles for the heck of it? He’s bringing you down with the two of them.

Simon who ends up healing his childhood through you and his kid. Even if he was a little embarrassed about it all in the beginning, he realized that he’d rather make memories than skip them being shy and hurting you and your kids’ feelings.

(He totally has his own stash of toys and his own coloring books he’s accumulated over the years he’s known you. He even has his own blankets with hero’s and stuffed animals of his own) ᰔᩚ

-

not really proof read, but you get the idea. Just had this in my head for a bit

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: angst, swearing, smut (SMUT?!), fingering, (oh lord almighty), 18+ (jesus, what if I die), degradation (god damn), one night stand-ish vibes (hey this isn’t the free robux website), belittling stuff (I don’t know the word, I’m dumb ahh)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - TWENTY QUID TO WHOEVER GUESSED IM DRUNK 🤪🤪🤪😎🥸🤪🤓

Lando. Being nice. Too good to be true? Too good to be true.

You were way too hopeful to expect him to stay nice. The next morning, you walked into the kitchen with a smile on your face, only for it to immediately fall when Lando ignored your radiant grin and your ‘good morning’ quip.

Ah, some things are too good, no? Instead, you chose to busy yourself with house work, when your phone dinged, much to Lando’s annoyance. “It’s ‘Jason’,” Lando said, almost looking to the name in disgust, “who’s Jason?” he added.

“Some guy,” you muttered, moving from dusting to peer at the message instead, your eyes on the words. You’d spoken to Jason a few times on dating apps, and he’d seemed the only decent one, and he’d finally asked you on a date. God, maybe you could finally get over this sexual frustration you had going on.

Jason (tindr dude): so wear, like, pref nothing

‘Pref?’ Who the hell said ‘pref?’ And wear nothing? Jesus, it was the first date, this guy needed some decorum. Lando hadn’t read the message as he slumped onto the sofa, still scrolling through his own phone. You responded with a single ‘sure’ and closed your phone, going back to working.

Jason didn’t know you worked for Lando, he didn’t really know your job, and you weren’t all too keen on telling him either. In case it scared him off, or anything, right? “Lando..?” you said, now that it was fast approaching 4pm. “What?” he said, as if annoyed when he looked up to you.

It surprised you how one person could seriously sit in the same spot for hours on end, all focused on a tiny little rectangle. How did he not have glasses, for gods’ sake? “I was just wondering,” you said, trying to muster the confidence to say it. “Well? Spit it out,” Lando said, rolling his eyes.

“If I could have tonight off?” you finished weakly as your gaze dropped to the floor. “A date? Who the hell asked you on a date?” his words were full of venom as you winced. It wasn’t that he thought you’d were ugly, oh, hell no.

But the thought of some other guy with their filthy little hands all over your gorgeous little body? The anger just happened to land on you, rather than Jason. “Uh, some guy, Jason,” you said, not quite hearing it was a question he hadn’t actually meant for you to answer.

“It was a rhetorical question,” he muttered under his breath, “finish off the work, and I’ll think about it,”. You nodded, rushing to complete the tasks. Lando didn’t want you to go on the date. At all.

Tasks

dust the bookshelf

make dinner

clean the couch

Three tasks. You could finish that if you tried quick enough. So you multi-tasked - you left the pasta to boil as you dusted the bookshelf, and cleaned a few pillows too. It was all well and good - and very much frustrating to Lando. Very.

“Go on your stupid date,” he muttered when you stood in front of him proudly with the pasta bowl. You arrived at the restaurant, looking gorgeous as ever in your baby pink dress, your hair untied, looking radiant. God. You were gorgeous.

“Hey,” Jason smirked when he saw you, “looking good, a little covered though,”. Ew? Straight with the dirty jokes? What the fuck? “Uh, thanks,” you said, eyeing his hoodie and sweats. Lando pulled it off much better.

Wait.

Lando? Why were you thinking of him? This was a date with you and Jason, not Lando, for fucks’ sake. Though a date with Lando didn’t sound too bad…no! Snap out of it, Jason needed your attention, not Lando. “Uh, hey? Bird?” Jason said. Wow. Way to objectify too. Jason was a little ass.

And he looked nothing like this profile picture. The dinner went okay, albeit, it was only 15 minutes into the 6 quid pasta he made you share due to his ‘budget’. “So,” Jason grinned, with what he probably thought was an attractive smirk, “wanna head home and get…busy?”.

Oh how you wanted to say no. But you were sexually frustrated and there was only so much a vibrator could do. So you begrudgingly agreed, following Jason to his lousy car, sitting in and avoiding the fast food bags on the floor, trying not to touch the grease marks along what could have been a decent car seat.

Thank god Lando’s car was better. No! Fuck, why was he always coming up? You didn’t like Lando like that! Surely not, right? Jason’s apartment was just as icky as you expected, as he led you to a gross bed, the sheets sticky and full of crumbs as he worked at removing your dress.

Wow, congratulations. His dick was small too. Great. This, ladies and gentlemen, was a man who thought taking off a girl’s bra was adequate foreplay. In the end, this lousy excuse for a ‘man’ was so ridiculously shit at sex, that you faked it and made an excuse to walk your goldfish, and left for Lando’s.

“Nice date, he must’ve finished fast,” Lando said, checking his watch. You hadn’t even been gone an hour, the damn drive had been longer than the experience. You grumbled something incoherent, crossing your arms as Lando eyed your mascara.

“You’ve been crying,” he said, his words more a statement than a question. “Might have,” you mumbled begrudgingly, eyes on the floor as you sank into the sofa. “Was he that bad?” you were surprised Lando wasn’t even belittling you anymore. “I faked it,” you said, pointedly refusing to look him in the eye.

“Couldn’t even make you cum?” he said, your eyes wide at how blunt he was. “Well, I’m gonna say it how it is,” Lando said, an amused twinkle in his eyes. He didn’t even seem bothered by your surprise. “What was the reason? Too small? Couldn’t even pleasure you right? Couldn’t find the clit?”.

Lord, you’d never heard it out more lewd than Lando had just said. “All of it,” you said, cheeks rosy as he frowned. “So…you’re horny and you faked it,” he said, summarising the events pretty well. You nodded as he tsked, his eyes trained on you.

“Well,” he said, like he was expecting something, making you look up with a frown. “I’m not having my assistant all worked up and horny, deal with it,” Lando grumbled. He wanted you to get off? Here? In the bathroom? Somewhere else? “I…uh,” you said, looking down to your thighs before back to him.

“You’re fucking incapable, Y/N,” Lando said, using your first name instead of ‘you’ or ‘assistant’. Your breath hitched as he moved in front of you, lifting you up with ease as he admired your body under the dress. You let out a little huff as he dropped you onto the sofa properly, your legs splayed across the pillows, subconsciously wrapping round his waist.

“I have to help you with everything, don’t I?” Lando scowled, his voice laced with mocking as he looked down at you. “You’re useless, Y/N,”. You would’ve protested or said you weren’t had it not been for the closeness, or the fact that his hand was trailing up your inner thigh, tugging your panties down.

“These are small,” he mused, looking at the thin lace in his hand as you blushed, “I’ll keep them for later,” he pushed it into his pocket, moving his attention to lift your dress. “Holy shit…” he gasped, his scowl falling off as he looked between your legs.

Surely this was a slice of heaven, no? God. You were beautiful. You hissed as he ran a finger between your folds, you were so damn wet and for what? His words? “Desperate, huh?” Lando smirked, mirroring your thoughts. “I have my finger on your clit, Y/N,” he said, a gasp leaving your lips as he planted his finger with just the right pressure.

“You’re really gonna be embarrassed now?” Lando said with a mock pout, his tone belittling as he dipped his finger into your hole. “Wow, Jason was real shit, wasn’t he?” Lando mused, “couldn’t even stretch you out,”.

A small mewl left your lips as he curled his digit, his thumb stroking across your sensitive clit. “Wow, so responsieve,” he hummed, his movements becoming easier and easier with your wetness. “Is that a good enough demonstration? Or need me to help you finish it all?” he raised a brow.

“Are you that pathetic, Y/N?”

Yes. You were so desperate for him, you didn’t care about your own dignity anymore, just the way he curled his finger so perfectly, how he hit places you could only dream off. Fuck. “Lando, god,” you choked out, his other finger pressed in as well, stretching you out. “Need me to do it for you?” Lando repeated his words.

“Y-Yes,” you gasped, eyes rolling as he sped up, your high building in your stomach. “Pathetic,” he clucked his tongue, “useless, pathetic little girl,”. Lando was meant to be scolding you, and any normal person would feel ashamed or annoyed at the words but you? No, it just helped build up the heat.

“Gonna cum, now?” Lando gritted his teeth, leaning forwards, his fangs bared slightly. “Go on, then. Cum for me,”. Your back arched at his words, your release washing over you as you shuddered, a satisfied smirk across Lando’s face. “Good,” he said simply, moving his fingers as you clenched.

His jaw went slack as he watched you, his olive eyes scanning your oh-so gorgeous, spent body. “Learn to do things yourself,” Lando said through gritted teeth (though he didn’t mind awfully helping you in some areas), “or if you need me to do it for you, just ask,”.

A/N - a h aha ha ha ha ha ha haha remember when lando won a race? last week jn miami? ha ha ha hé was so good, btu when’s oscar gonna win a race, ive been waitign soooooooooo logn ha ha ha hahahah. my friend hda to proff tead my fic hahahaha ha ha

[madelynraemunson]

author’s note: no but hiking/nature-walk sex with eddie has me in HEAT. also my bf and i like to fuck on hikes sometimes so this is inspired by that concept hehe

cw: 18+ , semi-public sex, THE HANKY STAYS ONNN, unprotected p in v, dom!eddie, sub!fem!reader, cream pie

scenic route

[wc: 421 words]

“can’t believe how loud you’re being for me right now. you want us to get caught, is that it?”

panties to your knees, eyes rolled up to the misty clouds, you’re taking eddie from behind during a “nature walk” he snuck you off to, belly-first and sprawled out onto a nearby log.

“eddie,” you whimper. “fuckeddiefuckeddie fuck…harder, harder, harder!”

he quickens his pace and you’re a mewling mess. you hear him ask you, “how’d that one feel?” followed by a “like that?”, and a “yeah, like that huh?” but you’re already far too fucked out to answer him.

“look at you,” eddie tsks, shaking his head to admire your beauty. “sweet girl getting fucked all silly, she can’t even speak.”

your pussy loves his knowledgeable cock so much, judging by the way it hugs itself so tightly around him, milking him for everything he’s got, and lubricating his thick shaft with the slick of that spongey heat.

“fucking shit…” you whisper as you near your edge. “‘don’t care if people see. need you to keep fucking me, please, eddie…”

knowing you’re close, eddie is further incentivized. his grip on you loosens briefly as he restrains your arms with one hand and reaches for his handkerchief with the other.

smirking to himself, eddie rolls the hanky neatly into a long thin rectangle before nestling it snugly between your teeth. using the leverage he now has, he tugs you up towards him.

“mm!” you cry out in pleasure.

your burning core clenches around eddie as you feel him twitch inside of you. the aggressive sounds of slapping skin echo loudly across the bare wooden field. after a few more knee-buckling pumps into what feels like the base of your cervix, eddie paints your guts with his hot cum, the overflow dripping down your legs and onto the dewy blades of grass beneath.

letting you ride out your orgasm, eddie pulls your lace panties back up for you and straightens out any wrinkles on your skirt you may have acquired throughout the ordeal. when you come to, you can only beam up at him in awe.

“how was that, baby?”

“fucking amazing,” you rave as you and your twinkly eyes lean into him. “you always know how to fuck me so good.”

he issues you a tender kiss on the forehead before standing you back up, smacking his large palm across your ass. it causes you to whimper once again.

“and that,” eddie announces. “is why i like taking the scenic route.”

[greedyhoneyz]

And Many More. Toji Fushiguro

Cheers to many more years for you are forever growing— perhaps a little too fast.

contains: lots of fluff. dad!toji. husband!toji. baby megumi. author's notes: credit for this pic goes to the owner. enjoy!

The screen is black at first, then grainy before a couple splatters of colour flicker across. Then comes light and the fusing in of faces, figures and smiles.

It’s loud, and you can barely make out the voices behind the camera, but the few words that are recognizable are, “Don’t run, you're gonna fall...”

The camera pans over to the indoor play gym, an overmassing tower of steel, soft foam and pvc. It’s filled with kids of all ages and sizes, screaming their hearts out as they crawl, jump, slip and slide across the fortress.

The shot goes in and out of focus; you can hear the patter of fingers toying with the dials on the camera. It zooms out, the camera turning and a banner reading “Happy Birthday Megumi” fills the screen. Below it, a table full of presents tower atop one another which would occasionally rattle at the impending sound of children rushing by.

Children and adults come in and out of the frame as the camera pans to a long table, decorated with a lengthy, white tablecloth and plastic cups, plates, cutlery and pizza boxes.

The camera veers around to the play gym, zooming in on the ball pit by the bottom of the two conjoining slides. Happy faces are all around, the joyous laughter of children and the rumble of balls clattering against each other.

It’s not long before a mother appears by the ball pit, her hands propped on her hips as a discontented look washes over her face. She heaves, her chest retracting downwards, gathering her strength and exhales.

She climbs in, stumbling a bit and trudges through the pool of balls and children, maneuvering around and dodging spray balls ricocheting through the air.

She’s a couple meters away before stopping in front of a group of children. She waves, amuses their attention with animated expressions and gestures, and turns to the nearest child at her side.

She crouches down, beckoning the child to hip and tends to him with a kiss on the head and the motioning of her head. She jeers her head towards the group seating and stands, grabbing the child’s hand.

The mother and child in tow saunter through the ball pit as the camera zooms in and out. It follows the two just as they reach the edge of the pit, before the dishevelled silhouette of a stray ball comes flying overhead.

It whacks the cameraman on their head and the camera quickly falls to their feet, as the voice from behind groans and swears under their breath. “Shit… that fucking hurt.”

There’s shuffling behind the camera when the cameraman comes to their senses, the twirling of dials and the screen turns black.

Light returns to the screen; the camera is pointed at a table. Behind it, the mother and the child, stand, waiting expectantly. They look on behind the camera, following a mass of cake as it enters the frame.

It’s being carried by the father; a staunt expression painting his face. He places the cake on the table: it’s a large rectangle construction with blue and orange frosting, and black icing, and it’s accompanied by a few lit candles and the number “5”.

The father steps, positioning himself beside the mother and places a comforting hand on the young child’s shoulder as the mother ushers him to the center between.

The leisure center is quiet, except for the occasional cough and whisper. There’s some excited cheers and laughter which are quickly muted by a sharp hush or a mean retort which the camera picks up.

Reeling in, the camera focuses on the child perched between his parents. His eyes are wide with both shock and delight as he stares down at his cake, his mouth slightly agape. For a few moments, he peers up and takes in the expressions on his parents’ face, their joy and pride evident. They beam down at him, heartening him with tender words and smiles before the mother lifts her head and motions to the surrounding crowd.

“Happy birthday to you….Happy birthday to you…”

“Happy birthday to Megumi…..”

“Happy birthday to you…”

Megumi grins, his mouth reaching from ear to ear. He places his hands on the edge of the table with the beckoning of both his parents and guests, and leans forward, closing his eyes to blow out his candles.

He blows and his candles flicker but they stay strong in the wind.

He blows again, blowing out a few candles, yet the strongest amongst them survive. So he stops, closing his eyes once again and inhales deeply. He leans forward, lets out a heavy exhale and blows with all his might till his face turns red.

Through a long drag, his candles extinguish and in turn, Megumi changes. He sheds off his skin, shaking off his four year skin and sinks into his new skin— five.

The camera lense is rattled with cheers, screams and blinded by bright flashes as the guests welcome in a five year old Megumi.

He smiles gleefully and in awe, and turns to his parents once again. They peer down at him with bright faces and congratulate him. His mother plants a kiss on his cheek and then to his chin and then to his nose and then his eyes and then to his forehead. It’s evident she’s proud, over the moon and a little bit sad, but she takes on her emotions with stride and a warm smile.

His father, an occasional comic, wipes his pointer finger across the edge of his cake, his fingertip doused in icing. He waits carefully, watching his son turn and grab onto his mother before launching his attack, smearing the icing across his son’s cheek. It catches the boy off guard and his father quickly hides his hands behind his back when the boy turns, directing an accusing glare towards him.

Feigning expressions of shock and confusion, his father shakes his head profusely, refusing to accept his guilt. But when Megumi frowns, his father quickly gives in, admitting his guilt.

He crouches down, settling down to his son’s height and turns his cheek to the side, tilting his head back slightly. He points to the cake and taps his cheek.

It doesn’t take long for Megumi to put two and two together and quickly wipe his hand across his cake, and smear its remnants across his father’s open cheek, giggling.

Pretty soon, his mother joins in on the fun, smudging both father and son with icing across their faces before closing her eyes and submitting to their prickly fingers.

She shudders under their hold, fighting back a grimace and a chuckle as Megumi and his father blot icing across her face and somehow her shirt.

She opens her eyes, her gaze registering the sight of her husband and child before letting out a snigger.

Her laughter faded, as did the colours of faces, figures and smiles, as a picture fades. It features father, mother and child in arms together, stained in sugary delights but forever joyous with smiles as vivid as the sun. Their fondness, forever encapsulated in footage of Megumi’s fifth birthday.

[nadvs]

home before dark (part six)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe didn’t have a drop of alcohol last night, yet he feels violently hungover this morning.

He stares up at the ceiling of your guest room, running on a few hours of broken sleep. He feels so exposed. Once he started talking to you, he couldn’t stop.

He was fine living an empty life. But then you walked back into it, completely unaware of how painful it is to be around you. But it feels so damn good, too.

Nonetheless, when he looks at you, he sees his doomed childhood, his lost happiness. He’s not sure the good will ever outweigh the bad. Especially because he’ll never be able to tell you the entire story. You’ll never completely understand why he is the way he is.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told you to leave last night. You were just trying to help. After so many instances of telling himself he’d stop brushing you away, he’d stop acting like your asshole of an ex, he did it again.

But telling himself he should do something and actually doing it are two very different things. Everything in this nonsensical world is easier said than done.

You’re making breakfast in your kitchen, your temples aching from the sadness that hasn’t left you.

Rafe wasn’t awake before you for once. You don’t know how you’ll face him. You feel just as powerless as you felt when you were ten, unsure of what to say to him or how to act around him.

He was in the car. It won’t stop clanging around in your head. He was with her the last minute she was alive.

And when you tried to hold him, to be there for him, he told you to go away. You know better than to attempt to get him to talk about it again.

“Hey.” Rafe’s deep voice pulls you out of your haze. You look up to see him standing by the far counter, then return your gaze back down to the pan. For once, you’re the one avoiding eye contact.

“Hey,” you reply. Your shoulders are stiff. You know he wants to leave. “Just a second.”

You pull the pan off the range and cross the kitchen, pacing to the front of the house. When you open the door and re-arm the security system, you step to the side, hand tight on the knob.

You will yourself to look up at him, meeting his blue eyes. He’s standing between you and the front step of your home, unmoving.

“Did you want to stay?” you ask. “Maybe have some breakfast?”

It’s like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, taking another risk of rejection, expecting to fall but having a shred of hope that he’ll pull you to solid ground.

“I can’t.” He walks past you, a hard push off the edge. You’re disappointed. In him for denying you again. In yourself for thinking he wouldn’t.

You’ve always felt safe with him. But right now, while he’ll protect you physically, your heart isn’t even close to feeling whole. He’ll break it every chance he gets.

You spend your morning in a haze. You wish you could carry at least some of Rafe’s pain for him, but he’ll never fully open up to you. Last night, when he told you about the accident, he pushed you away the second you tried to comfort him.

After lunch, you realize you can’t handle being alone any longer. You text a friend and accept her invitation to hang out at her house.

Talking with your friend about everything but what’s been weighing on you is a welcome distraction for a couple of hours. Rafe is always at the back of your mind, but being with someone else helps ease the pain.

After you say your goodbyes, you walk down to the street where you parked. You notice a white paper rectangle tucked under your windshield wiper.

Your stomach drops. Normally, you’d assume it’s a ticket of some sort. That maybe you parked where you’re not supposed to. But you know that’s not what this is.

You pluck the paper from under the wiper and get into your car, trembling as you lock all the doors. You look around, terrified you’ll meet Ty’s stare.

But you’re alone. Nobody is around.

You rip open the envelope. On the top inner fold, in his messy writing: I always have my eyes on you.

Fear’s razor-sharp claws squeeze your insides when you pull out what’s in the envelope. Photos of you from the past few days. At the gas station. At the mall. At the pool.

Ty’s been following you. Taking pictures.

You lock your doors again, even though you know you already did. You’re at a loss for what to do. Where to go.

Just walking up the driveway back to your friend’s house is daunting. And going home to an empty house is just as scary.

So, you go to the one person you know will take away the fear. You drive, park, and find his name in your phone.

Rafe is sitting on the balcony leading out of his bedroom when his phone starts buzzing. He sees your name on the screen and scrambles to answer as fast as possible.

“You okay?” Rafe says.

“No.” Your voice is shaky. “No. He’s been following me.”

“Where are you?” he asks, standing and rushing to find his keys.

“I’m in front of your house.”

“Good,” he says. He tucks his gun into the band of his jeans. “Good. It’s okay. I’ll be right down.”

Rafe spots your car at the end of his driveway. When his eyes find you, he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so shell-shocked. He tugs at the passenger door handle a few times before you catch on that you need to unlock it.

He settles in the seat next to you, brows furrowed in worry, watching you stare ahead at your steering wheel.

“I don’t even know how I - I drove here,” you stutter with a humorless laugh. You’re in a fog.

“What’d he do?” he asks.

Your eyes dart down to the ripped open envelope in your cup holder. Rafe grabs it and leafs through the photos. Anger climbs up his body in half a second.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters.

“He left it on my car,” you say.

You can’t let Ty do this to you anymore. You’re not above wishing Rafe would beat him within an inch of his life. You want to fight back in every possible way you can. You want him to lose.

“I think this is enough to go to the police,” you breathe. “I need a restraining order or something. I can’t just watch this happen. I mean, I have enough evidence of - of stalking, right?”

Saying the word out loud is what finally breaks you. The tears you’ve been pushing down rush up without any mercy. You start to cry quietly, your chest heaving.

“Listen to me,” Rafe says softly. “He’ll pay for this.”

All he can feel is a burning urge to protect you. To make sure you never feel this way again. He’s not leaving your side for a minute.

You sense Rafe’s hand on your knee. It’s like you’re watching this happen to someone who looks and sounds like you because he can’t possibly be happening to you.

“You want me to drive?” he asks.

You nod, tears rolling down your face, unbuckling your seatbelt.

You watch Rafe’s knuckles turn white as he drives your car down the street. You ask him to stop at your house to grab the letter Ty left for you, glad you didn’t throw it out in haste, and arrive at the police station carrying the proof of your ex’s incessant hounding.

Rafe tucks his gun under the seat before going inside.

The building is dingy. You approach the front desk, locking eyes with the man sitting behind a computer, his uniform dull and washed out.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“I need to file a restraining order,” you say. The words feel odd coming out of your mouth.

The officer hands you a sheet of paper on a clipboard and a pen, instructing you to come back up to the desk after you fill it out.

It’s vile. You’re scared for your life and in response, a stranger hands you a form.

The waiting room is empty. You and Rafe settle in the worn, ripped up leather seats. You look down at the words in front of you, your hands trembling.

“Here,” he says, taking the clipboard and pen from you. You’re too shaken up to focus.

You watch Rafe write your full name at the top. Your address. Your date of birth. He remembers it all.

Then, he drags the pen over every box that applies to you.

The defendant and I are persons who are in or have been in a romantic relationship. He marks it with an X.

The defendant has inflicted emotional distress on me. X.

I want the Court to order the defendant not to assault, threaten, follow or harass me. X.

I believe I am in danger of serious or immediate injury.

Rafe looks to you.

“Not when you’re around,” you say honestly. “But you can check it.”

When Rafe comes across the blank sections, he sniffs in unease before reading the instructions out loud.

“Give specific dates and describe in detail what happened,” he recites. He doesn’t want to hear this. “Just talk. I’ll write.”

You go through it all from the beginning. The aggressive text messages. The in-person threats. The email. The letter. The photos. Rafe writes it all down. His stomach turns as he listens to you recount it all.

You take the clipboard to record what’s left: Ty’s contact information.

You drop the form off at the front desk and sit back down. Rafe watches you blankly stare ahead, your knees anxiously bouncing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he mumbles. You nod, unconvinced.

“We can grant you an emergency protective order,” a police officer tells you after taking you and Rafe to a private room. “There’ll be a court hearing within ten days. You need an attorney to represent you and to help prove that the letter and photos are from him.”

“Okay,” you say. The old man across the table is speaking like he’s talking about something boring, like the weather.

“So, wait - are you saying - he can just walk around free until then?” Rafe asks.

The officer looks at Rafe, his face emotionless. Then he looks at you again.

“The defendant will be informed about the temporary order and he’ll be told not to contact you,” he responds. “If he violates the terms, you need to let us know. But a judge will determine if a permanent order should be granted. It’s up to them to decide if this person is a danger to you.”

“Are you kidding?” Rafe shuffles in his seat, shaking his head. “Someone’s gonna tell him to stay away from her and - and that’s it? Until a judge maybe makes it official?”

“That’s the way the law works,” the officer says.

“The law is bullshit.”

“Reconsider your tone, young man,” the cop warns.

Rafe scoffs, like he’s taking it as a challenge. You’re frustrated that the man is being so cold about this, but Rafe’s hostility isn’t helping.

“Rafe,” you say, placing your hand on his forearm. “Can you wait for me outside?”

He meets your eyes. He realizes he’s stressing you out. Times like these, he hates his temper.

Rafe has been standing by the front doors of the building for five minutes when you come out, your arms crossed.

“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters. “He was just so goddamn casual about the whole thing-”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I know.”

You still feel like this is a nightmare you’re waiting to wake up from. Your parents are overseas for work, totally oblivious to what’s happening. You need to call them. How the hell do you even deliver this kind of news?

“Did he say anything else?” Rafe asks as you make your way to your car.

“He just told me I should get a lawyer as soon as I can,” you say. “I found one in the area and I called her office. I have a meeting with her tomorrow.”

You’re still shaky and you’re glad Rafe is heading for the driver’s side without you having to ask him. You settle in your car, locking yourselves in silence.

He’s not starting the engine. He’s just looking at you. You meet his eyes and try not to think about last night.

“You’re scared,” he says. Your eyelids flutter. You are scared. The last twenty-four hours have been a mess.

Rafe wallows in the feelings of failure and self-pity. He’s supposed to make you feel safe and he’s fucking it up. You look terrified.

“I’m not gonna leave your side, alright?” he says. “I’ll make sure you’re never alone until he stops. And he will stop.”

Normally, you’d ask him if he can really take that on. But you have to ask yourself if you can take it on first. Being around someone who’s committed to keeping you at a distance is starting to wear on you. But this all started so he’d keep you safe. Whether you can handle it or not, you will.

Rafe grimaces when you don’t respond. Maybe he’s not enough. Maybe you need to feel like you have the power to keep yourself safe, too.

“I’m teaching you how to use a gun,” he decides.

“What?” you say. You can’t have heard him right.

“You won’t be scared if you know how to protect yourself,” he says. Then he shoves the key into the ignition and drives to his house to swap to his bike.

You cling onto Rafe as he drives his motorcycle along the coast. He approaches a clearing in an overgrown field. You can understand why he changed vehicles when you feel how choppy the terrain is. He navigates over the grass and stops under a tree.

“How do you even know about this place?” you ask once he kills the engine and you take off his helmet.

Rafe doesn’t want to admit that he passes by this barren corner of the island several times a month to pick up coke from his dealer. That he’s been here to shoot at nothing multiple times before.

“Just do,” he says. “Come on.”

You swing your leg off his motorcycle, wishing you didn’t feel the loss of his touch as deeply as you do.

When Rafe leads you deeper into the clearing under the cloudy afternoon sky, the road now out of sight, he pulls his gun out of the back of his jeans. It’s unreal watching him adjust the weapon in his hands, how casually he’s handling something that could kill a person.

You look over your shoulder, wondering if Ty is hiding somewhere. Will you always be on edge like this, worrying his eyes are on you?

You glance back at Rafe.

“Where’d… you learn?” you mumble. “To use it.”

Rafe looks up at you. Your eyes are wide. Maybe this was a bad idea.

He was being impulsive when he suggested this. He forgot how you looked at him when you noticed his gun at the party a few nights ago. He’s supposed to be making you feel safe. But you look freaked out.

“If this is a bad idea, we don’t have to do this,” he says. “I was-”

“No,” you interrupt. “You’re right. I’ll feel better knowing I can defend myself if it… if it comes to that.”

The thought sends a chill through your body. You try to shake away your fear.

“I was just wondering,” you say.

“I taught myself,” Rafe admits.

“How come?”

His jaw clenches.

“I told you, sometimes I get pissed off and…” He tries to bring down the sharpness of his tone. “This helps. It feels good. You’ll see.”

You can tell just how heavy his soul is as you watch him focus, sliding the magazine of the gun in and out. You wonder how many times he’s come out here, running towards a twisted form of solace.

You get it. You don’t know how you’d react if what happened to him happened to you, but you doubt it’d be very different from this. You’d be angry at the world, too. You’d want to take it out any way you can.

Rafe steps closer to you, opening the chamber, every column in it filled.

“It’s loaded,” he tells you. “You can see the bullets here. Safety’s on.”

He closes the chamber and offers the gun to you. It’s heavy in your hand as he rounds to stand behind you.

“You see that tree over there?” he says, his voice low. You follow his finger to see a tall, broken stump in the distance. It looks like it was hit by lightening and torn in half.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Aim at it,” he instructs you. “Use both hands. It’ll have some kick.”

You’re tense as you raise the gun towards the tree. You have one hand wrapped around the grip of the gun and tuck the other underneath the barrel.

“Like this,” he mumbles. His arms encircle you, his chest firm against your back. Your breath catches as he rests his hands over yours. He guides your left hand closer to your right, adjusting your fingers to spread wider.

“Safety’s on,” he reminds you. “Just get used to the feeling, alright?”

“Alright,” you say.

His forefinger settles over yours, pushing down on the blocked trigger.

“This is where you press down,” he says. You nod against him.

Rafe’s trying not to notice how nice your shampoo smells. The way your body feels enclosed in his. The fact that his heart started racing the second he gets close to you like this.

“You ready for me to turn off the safety?” he asks you, zeroing in on the reason he’s here. You nod and in seconds, the loaded gun in your hands is completely unguarded.

“It’ll be loud, okay?” he mumbles. You feel his warm breath against your cheek. “You don’t have to be scared. You have all the power here.”

You feel like you haven’t had any power in a long time. You take a few breaths before you pull the trigger. The bang is ear-splitting and force is hard, jolting your arm, sending the bark on the tree flying within a second. You actually hit your target.

You lose your stability, hands loosening beneath Rafe’s. He quickly pulls the gun back and turns the safety on again.

“Shit,” he says amusedly. “You did it.”

You’re in disbelief that you’re doing this and that it kind of felt good. You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s towering behind you.

Your eyes are locked as you stand together in the desolate patch of unkept greenery. You’re silent now and so is he, your breaths in unison.

“Feel better?” he finally asks.

“Yeah.”

Rafe has spent so long harboring hatred for everyone, including himself. But as he drinks in your features and the way they come together so beautifully, he’s sure he doesn’t hate you and never has. How could he when you look at him like this, like you’re expecting the best from him after all he’s done is disappoint you?

Just like last night, the words come rushing out of Rafe’s mouth. He’s getting worse at keeping them in around you. It’s still uncharted territory, so he’s struggling to find out how to say exactly what he’s thinking.

“I don’t…” he says. He starts over. “You should be… happy. I mean, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with all this.”

You chew on your lip. He’s right. Nobody should have to suffer like this, scared of a maniac who won’t leave them alone, who seems to find pleasure in inflicting fear.

Rafe hates that you’re fighting for your own comfort. You deserve to live in ease.

“Thanks,” you say. You gaze into his eyes, wishing they didn’t see what they saw when he was ten years old. “I want you to be happy, too.”

Rafe’s lids drop, his sharp jaw tightening as he grinds his teeth. He can’t cry in front of you. Not again.

“Give it another try,” he says, handing the gun back to you after turning off the safety. You take it in steady hands, aiming at the tree. He doesn’t hold you this time.

After a few seconds of concentration, you pull the trigger and miss. Then you try once more. You hit your target. You can’t imagine ever using this on a person. But if it comes down to it, to your life or Ty’s, you’re picking yours every time.

You lower the gun, realizing your breaths are faster now.

“I think that’s enough,” you say, your stare still fixed ahead. You feel Rafe slowly take the weapon out of your hands again, his fingers brushing yours.

“You wanna go home?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Without another word, you head back to your house, feeling Rafe’s heart thudding against your palm as you cling onto him on his bike.

Rafe waits in the front room while you try to call your parents. Neither of them answer, likely asleep in their timezone.

You put your phone away, looking defeated. He said he wouldn’t leave your side and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“I’ll try again in the morning,” you tell him. “You can just make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge. I’m gonna go lie down.”

Rafe nods, his elbows on his knees as he sits forward on the couch, as if he’s ready to strike any threat that might come your way.

You stand and cross the space, then breathe out a slow exhale when you reach the end of the room, your hand on the edge of the wall.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, glancing back at him. “I know it’s hard for you to be around me. My parents will fly back after I talk to them and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

You round the corner, leaving him with his thoughts.

It’s not until after sunset that you come back downstairs, feeling trapped in your own home. Rafe is where you left him, scrolling on his phone, surely bored.

“Hey,” you say. You got a text from a friend a few minutes ago about a party at a house down the street. “You wanna get out of here?”

More people are drunk than sober when you arrive at the party, the music and chatter almost deafening. Rafe is brushing through the crowds in front of you.

You spot your friends on the other side of the room and find some relief in seeing people you know actually want to be in your company.

You tug at his shirt to get his attention. Rafe turns and leans down to hear you over the music.

“I’ll be with my friends,” you tell him. He pulls back, confusion in his stare.

“You sure you should go on your own?” he asks.

“You’ll be close, right?” you say.

Rafe shuffles in place, looking tense before he leans over to speak again.

“I’m fine being around you, okay?” he says, thinking about what you said back at your house. “If that’s what this is about.”

He’s fine. You don’t miss the coldness of his words. He’s simply fine being around you, while you ache for him when he’s gone.

“I don’t want to just be… tolerated,” you confess. “I’ll stand over there and I won’t move.”

“Aren’t we supposed to pretend we’re together?” he asks, suddenly desperate to feel you. He offers his hand. You look down at it.

For the first time, you don’t want to touch him. Because you’re so painfully aware that this is all a farce. Because you went through so much today that keeping up appearances feels ridiculous.

When you don’t take Rafe’s hand, the sting of rejection pools through him.

“I don’t care about fooling him anymore,” you say. “We don’t have to keep lying to everyone.”

You offer him a sad smile and brush past him. Your friends’ faces fall when they see you. That’s when you know you’re wearing your anguish for everyone to see.

You stand against the wall, alert and sharp-eyed in case Ty shows up. Maybe he won’t. Maybe the police scared him from even risking being in the same room as you.

He doesn’t seem to be here. But you’re drained of all hope a mere half-hour later when you suddenly see your ex in the crowd. When his gaze meets yours, his lips thin in anger.

Like an animal charging towards its prey, he rushes towards you, shoving past people. You look around and feel overwhelming relief when you see Rafe’s profile locked on Ty as he scrambles to get to him.

“You went to the fucking police?” Ty shouts, rushing towards you.

Even over the music, you can hear the sound of Rafe’s fist making contact with Ty’s jaw. The crowd quickly scatters, shouts erupting as they clear out the space.

Everyone runs away but you. You step forward, watching in disbelief as Rafe leans over, one hand on Ty’s collar, the other delivering blow after blow.

Rafe’s knuckles ache with every punch as Ty lies on the ground, absorbing every strike, slack-jawed. He sees red. Every punch is harder than the last.

“Don’t follow her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her!” Rafe yells. “Do you hear me?”

Pure rage fills his veins as he takes everything out with his fist. Every reason he’s so painfully angry. The misery you’re going through. The loss he feels every single day. The fact that people like this get to live when his mother doesn’t.

“Rafe, that’s enough, man!” you hear. You watch two of Rafe’s friends pull him off. He scrambles to get out of their grip.

You can see Ty clearer now. His face is covered in blood, his head rocking side to side.

You turn to see Rafe is pinned against the wall, a third friend now holding him back. His jerks to get free are violent and frantic. Until he sees you.

You look shattered. He stills. You close the distance.

“Let’s go,” you say, unable to recognize your own voice. “Please.”

Rafe’s friends look at each other, never having seen him settle down so quickly. They loosen their grip off of him and he hurries to you, his body curving over yours in an effort to shield you from everything that just happened.

As you rush out of the party, Rafe’s hand is pressed at the small of your back. You’re glad it is, because you’re not sure you’d be able to handle anything without him keeping you steady right now.

When you make it home, your heart is still pounding in your ears. In the moonlight, you noticed how bloody Rafe’s knuckles were as he drove, so you impulsively lead him to the closest bathroom on the first floor of your home.

He doesn’t realize what you’re doing until you turn on the faucet, checking the temperature of the water before you take his hand in yours and wash off the evidence of the fight.

Blood starts to pool down into the sink in a spiral. It wasn’t that long ago you watched Rafe cleaning himself up like this at his house the night he agreed to pretend to date you.

You turn off the tap and take a hand towel, gently dabbing his swollen knuckles. Rafe watches you, the way your face twists in concentration, his lips parted as he breathes heavily.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” you ask.

“No,” he says.

You’re not thinking straight. You’re doing this because you feel like you owe him for making Ty pay for what he’s been doing to you, but it’s better not to be touching like this. Not when you know it’s a matter of time before he goes back to being a stranger.

“I guess you can do this yourself,” you say nervously. You hold out the towel for him to take with his good hand.

Ever since Rafe fell into this destructive pattern of fighting, he did this part on his own. Cleaning himself up, dealing with the ache, breathing through the residual adrenaline. Nobody ever took care of him like this. He never let them.

Really, he never let you. Because you were the only one holding out a hand while everyone else watched him drown.

“Can you?” he mumbles. You look up at him, puzzled. He always rejects your offers to help. But not now.

“You want me to?” you say. Your voice is brittle, echoing in your small bathroom.

His eyes are soft, as soft as they were when he was a boy, and he nods.

You continue to press the towel against his knuckles. You look at his hand, thinking about the way you watched it write for you earlier today, recording every detail of the torment you’ve lived through over the past few weeks.

What would’ve Ty done if he got his hands on you tonight? And how could Rafe think so low of himself, call himself a psycho, say he fucks everything up, when he could be the only reason you’re alive right now?

“You okay?” he mumbles. You look up, realizing he’s watching you and can see the anxiety etched into your expression.

“The court order didn’t work,” you respond. “It didn’t scare him. It’s a good thing you were there. Thank you.”

Rafe has never felt sure about his place in the world. Not after his loss. But the sense of purpose that taking care of you has given him, the feeling of being told it was good he was somewhere, is unlike anything else.

He flexes his throbbing hand, your words from earlier tonight rattling in his mind. The insinuation that he tolerates you. It’s wrong. It may bring back bad memories to be around you, but it’s not like he’s merely putting up with you, like he’s eager to get rid of you.

“Should I get you ice?” you offer.

Rafe doesn’t answer. He only stares at you.

“I don’t just tolerate you,” he says after a moment, his voice rough.

Your heart aches. Tears prick your eyes. You inhale slowly, your face crumpling with sorrow.

“What is it?” he says.

“I can’t… You told me not to talk about it.”

Rafe chews on the inside of his cheek. He can tell how much it’s been hurting you, how much you’ve been yearning to have this conversation.

“Say it.”

You look down, so overwhelmed that it hurts, accepting his invitation.

“What happened to you was… I don’t have the words. I never did,” you whisper. “It changed you but I can still see parts of who you were before. You’re a good person. Maybe you don’t think so, but you never stopped being good. You asked me why I care about you. That’s why.”

Rafe is speechless. Everything in him is urging him to walk away from you again. The closer he gets to you, the more it hurts. The more it reminds him.

He ignores the impulse to leave. He lets you keep talking.

“And I understand why you shut me out. You were grieving. I’m just so… so, so sorry.” You know it’s a risk to say, but this might be your only chance to tell him. You take a breath. “She’d be so proud of you, Rafe. I know it.”

You stare up at him through your lashes. Finally, you’ve said everything you’ve been wanting to say to him for years.

To hear someone he trusts telling him his mother would be proud of the man he’s become, even when he always feels so angry and rotten and broken, gives Rafe an overpowering sense of relief.

Then, it creeps up on him, the way he can’t bear that he survived and she didn’t. She should have stayed alive. Why did he deserve it? Why didn’t she?

You watch Rafe’s face fall, brows pinching, eyes starting to gleam with tears. Seeing him cry because of what you just said is a punch in the gut.

You should give him space. It’s what he always wants. But just in case he needs any of the comfort you can offer him, you give into your impulse to touch him. At this point, it’s senseless to fight it.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, bringing him close to you, squeezing him into a hug. When he doesn’t return your embrace, you start to retreat, but then you feel big hands drag up your waist, pulling you back in.

Rafe digs his head into the crook of your neck. His body starts to tremble with his cries. And finally, he surrenders himself to you completely.

(part seven)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[vxnuslogy]

— unfinished business.

starring: stellaron hunter!sunday x gn!reader + the other stellaron hunters.

premise: on his first mission with the stellaron hunters, sunday hesitates, unable to push through. frustrated, you step in, taking on the task. when danger strikes, Sunday becomes your unexpected savior. the mission succeeds, but sunday is left wondering about your unfinished business in the capital of passion and your mysterious past before you joined the team.

— warnings: slight angst + arguments.

— author's note: another sunday fic to the collection yippie. pic credits to @helen_zzhao. | ~3.4k words.

the capital of passion always looked magnificent at night. here you were with your fellow hunters and your boss - in his cat form - standing above the capital at its highest peak. flashing lights of neon blues, pinks, and yellows obscured the night sky you preferred to look at when the moon was present. you were sitting on one of the ventilations of the building you were all standing on, silver wolf leaning on the railing playing video games, blade in some corner with his sword close to his chest and eyes strained away from the bright lights, and sunday stood awkwardly standing next to you with elio perched in your lap.

“you already know what to do right, mister?” silver wolf suddenly looks up from her game and drops a silver disc right in front of her. a hologram of the city below you showed up and two glowing yellow dots were running away from the blue dots who you assumed were the public security regulation. “we split up and corner the messengers, interrogate said messengers for more information about the supposed discontinued project, and leave before security catches us. ”

silver wolf looked at sunday with a different glint in her eyes. “you can do a simple task like this right?” 

the man beside you crossed his arms together over his chest and gripped them tightly. brows knitting together in contemplation as his mouth opened just to close again. continuous beeping noises that sounded like alarms from the disc made you suddenly stand up. “they’re changing their course. i thought they mostly traveled in the skies? why are they suddenly using the alleyways?”

“we don’t have time.” blade interrupted with a pointed look to sunday. “can you or can you not do it? the clock is ticking.”

you look at sunday worriedly who has still yet to say another word. “i–”

“mister make up your mind, we’re going to lose them!” silver wolf shouted in worry. taking out her phone and quickly punching a few buttons. red rectangles appeared on a holographic map of the city, closing any passages the messenger could take to escape. “we need to go, like right now!”

you looked towards blade who was already getting ready to jump off the rooftop to chase the messengers. his intense gaze never once left sunday’s figure who continued to shrink more into the shadow. 

“i can’t… i’m sorry.” sunday murmured, hand tightening their hold on his arms. you try not to show how your  eyes widened in disbelief but with the way he avoided looking into your eyes, you couldn’t help the bubbling of frustration that started to fester in your chest.

silver wolf was always calm under pressure so it was strange to see her so shaken. “are you kidding me?!” she stomped towards sunday and pointed an accusing finger to sunday. tapping at his chest multiple times to emphasize her frustration. “you said you were ready! we did not just waste weeks worth of our time to train you for this mission only for you to say that you can’t do it?!”

“silvy come on, give him a break.” you tried to but in, keeping your own frustration hidden behind an understanding smile. “this is his first mission; a complete one-eighty of what he’s used to.”

“you’re being too soft on him, [name]!” a timer of 15 minutes suddenly appeared on the map. “we’re here on a mission. we could get caught!”

“silver wolf is right, [name].” you look at the black cat that sat by sunday’s legs. their head turned to look at sunday but the man only looked away in shame, wings covering his face. “you’ve agreed to become a hunter, mr. sunday. and you’ve also agreed to participate in this mission. need i remind you of the consequences when you don’t follow the script?”

elio never truly intimidated you, not when you first joined, on your first mission, or just in general. but with the way he was sizing up sunday with such judgement made the hairs on your arms and neck raise in realization. elio might have been kind to you, but they weren’t so much with others.

you look back to the map and blade, and then the timer that continues to tick. “i’ll go.”

“what?!” silver wolf’s attention was now on you. and so was everyone else's. “no one knows you’re a stellaron hunter! if anyone were to catch a glimpse of you all your hard work will be for nothing!”

“do you really want to risk that, [name]? ” blade asked, pushing you back to where sunday and elio stood. you felt their gaze on you as you stepped forward and pushed past blade. with a single tap on your earpiece a visor appeared in front of your eyes and showed you the map of the city. the same glowing yellow dots.

“[name].” elio warns.

“i’ll take the one in the west, the rest of you take the north.” you heard a collective shout of your name but you already jumped off. 

the city was more jam-packed than you had imagined. though you were in the alleyways of the capital, bags of trash, old mechanical parts, and even trashed prosthetics laid on the ground making it hard to navigate through the already dimmed path.

you kept a close eye on the yellow dot just a few feet in front of you. furrowing your brows in confusion when it suddenly turned around and started charging in your directions. too focused on the map showing on your visor, you fail to notice the glinting piece of metal that was thrown straight at your head. 

something warm encapsulated your body. you suddenly felt an arm wrap around your waist and your head as the figure in a cloak jumped over your body. a grunt left your savior’s lips making you turn around.

“sunday?!” he only gave you a flustered smile as you sat on his lap. 

“hello…” he replied as you quickly stood up and helped him up. checking over your visor just to see that the yellow dot had taken a different route that you predicted. a curse left your lips as you kicked the trash bags in front of you.

“bladie they're coming your way. be careful, they're armed.” you heard a soft roger from the other end as your visor shut off. you look back to sunday who was dusting off his clothes. your brows knit together in confusion. “what are you doing here?”

he looked shocked by your question but quickly masked it. “i’m here to finish my mission.”

“i thought you said you couldn’t do it?” you wonder what kind of expression you were making to suddenly make the ever so composed sunday squirm.

“blade is right.” he takes a step forward and pushes your hair out of your eyes. wincing when his gloved finger suddenly grazed over the scratch you didn’t even know you had. “you’re too soft on me, [name].”

you raise a brow at him. “would you prefer i be a bit sterner then?”

sunday must have taken your words lightly because he only shook his head in amusement with a small smile on his lips. normally you would smile with him but this time a deep frown tugged at your lips. “i’m being serious, sunday.” 

he ceased his silent laughter and looked at your eyes. “because i will be more strict with you if you’re going to continue acting like this in future missions.”

his shoulders tensed when you turned around, back facing him as you started to walk away back to your meeting point. no doubt silver wolf and blade must have caught one of the messengers and brought them back to the rooftop. 

“let’s go back to our meeting point.” you didn’t wait for his reply when you started scaling up the walls of the alleys. clicking your tongue in disgust when you felt the grime stick to your fingers. 

“are you mad?” 

“excuse me?”

the both of you stopped. just a few feet away from you, you catch a glimpse of elio playing with the holograms. signaling you both to return to continue the interrogation. the night is going to be over soon and you’ve spent enough time running around trying to catch a wild goose.

“of course i’m mad!” you looked at him in disbelief as your voice raised in volume. “sunday, we're in a capital that's being run by a government body who doesn't care about privacy. the fact that we haven't been caught yet is a miracle!” you take a deep inhale and pinch the bridge of your nose. “you said you were ready. that you can finally start taking missions. elio prepared you a script and we helped you train for weeks. so i’m sorry if i’m mad that most of our efforts are going down the drain.”

sunday looked away. he almost looked bashful with one arm brushing up the other. “i apologize. i truly thought i was ready. but with the way you’re treating these people, i couldn’t help but think you’ll–”

“kill them?” he winced at your blunt reply. you continued making your way back to the rooftop, not bothering to slow down your pace as sunday followed you from a good distance. “we’re going to interrogate them. this is your first mission, we aren’t going to make you dirty your hands this early.”

sunday stood incredibly still. as if he's only realizing now what he's really gotten himself into. “so you do plan on making me a murderer.”

you scoffed as you pushed back your hair. taking a deep breath, you steadied your voice. “sunday, we’re wanted criminals.” your eyes narrowing down to glare as sunday tried to challenge you. “why do you think everyone has a bounty in the millions? of course we’ve murdered people. that’s our job.”

“this isn’t right.” he argued. 

“well tough shit.” his eyes went wide, mouth opening slightly but closed just as fast. you weren’t one to curse or even raise your voice but tonight you were losing your cool. “sunday, you agreed to join us. of course you’ll have to get your hands dirty later on. you should be grateful elio gave you such an easy mission that doesn’t require that much force.”

“then what about you?” sunday knew he was pushing his limits, but he still continued. “if you’re all criminals then why have i not seen even a single wanted poster of you?”

sunday quickly regretted asking that when a wave of sadness washed over you. lips pressed together into a thin line as your hands curl into fists, knuckles turning white and slightly shaking. the two of you would’ve stood in silence forever if it weren’t for elio playing with the hologram. you quickly teared your gaze away from him and started to walk away in silence.

“we’re trying to do what’s best for you, sunday.” you say softly. “the consequences of the script getting derailed are catastrophic. trust me,” there was a certain edge to your voice when you turned to look at him. the bright lights of the capital casting a faint glow over your figure making the air sunday tried to inhale get lodged in his throat. “i know what kind of cataclysm might fall if you go off script.”

you reached the meeting point roughly 5 minutes later. elio was licking at his paw and meowed when they saw your figure approaching. squatting down to pet their head, you allow them to rub at your legs before clawing at sunday’s pants and climbing to his shoulders. the halovian let out a sound between a squeak and a groan, normally this would rip out a giggle out of you but your eyes remained focused on the man sitting by the ventilation with his arms tied behind his back. the man cracked one eye open and when his gaze fell over you he started scooting backwards.

“I-its… you…” your brows furrow together as sunday came to stand beside you, the same expression on his face.

“do you know him?”

you shake your head. “no, i don’t.”

taking a step forward, the man cowered and shook like a leaf, leaving you and sunday confused. “how are you alive?!” you were about to question him when he quickly followed it up with something you believed you wouldn’t ever hear again. “you’re that doctor from the train! you were supposed to be dead, i saw the explosion and you were caught in it!”

a lodge appeared in your throat. no sound left your lips when you squatted down to the man’s height to question. suddenly, sunday’s gold eyes felt too heavy and questioning even though you couldn’t see them. you curl your hand into a fist and let out a shaky sigh. closing your eyes to calm the drumming in your ears and heart. this was not the time to look back on the accident that happened amber eras ago.

“oh triple-faced soul,” you hear sunday approach from behind. “please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron,” the air suddenly turned warm as a gloved hand wrapped around your arm pulling you up and tugging you to his side.“so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”

elio jumped into your arms, tapping a paw at your chin making you look up at sunday with worried eyes. “this will be faster.” he said, waiting for you to ask the question you had prepared beforehand.

taking a deep breath, you take out your phone and give it to sunday. he nodded at you, a hand came to the small of your back to steady you. your mind swam with questions on how this man knew about the explosion, you were very sure that no one was there to see it. “come to my office after the mission.” elio spoke softly, breaking you out of your nightmares.

“question: what do you know of the windborne project?” sunday questions, his golden stare narrowed dangerously at the man’s figure.

“it’s a discontinued project,” the man gulped before continuing. “there were too many errors and too few researchers. the blueprints were leaked by an old messenger and not long after, the others were captured by the public security regulation.”

“do you know who leaked the blueprint? what about the original creator?”

“we don’t know! everyone assumed that a rat had gotten in through some means and leaked it.”

“do you possess the blueprint of the windborne project?”

the man hesitated. he started taking sharp inhales and let out shaky exhales. hands started shaking in his restraints as sunday took a step forward and kneeled to the man’s level. golden eyes not once faltering.

“i will ask you again, do you possess the blueprint of the windborne project?”

“y-yes!” the man cried out. “it’s in my bag, you can have it, so please, spare me..” 

you let go of elio gently and made your way to the stray bag in one of the corners. zipping it open you pull out a gray cylinder and wouldn’t you know, the words “windborne” were written in white marker. taking off the lid and sliding out the paper, you open it and let out a hum.

“continue with the interrogation,” you tell sunday, taking out a pen from your pocket and started writing on the blueprint. circling and crossing out words like the materials needed, the measurements and instructions on how its supposed to be used.

“where can we find the holo-wings?” you felt sunday’s eyes flicker over to you but you pay it no mind.

“the tech labs in arcadia research department. they’ve been manufacturing them in secret and selling them in the underground markets.”

you hum and write more stuff down. “ask him about the nano-actuators.”

“and what about the nano-actuators? where can we get them?”

“cybernetic shops. their found all across the capital.”

“cybernetic shops…” you mutter after circling another portion of the words on the blueprint. after a few more notes, you roll up the blueprint and put it back in its cylinder. “you can let him go now, we’re done here.”

sunday stood up and dusted his pants, letting go of the man from his trance. a shiver went up your spine when he looked at you, the remnants of the order’s power swimming in them before they all vanished when he blinked. you follow his gaze towards the cylinder in your hand but made no move to question it.

“i told you everything i know, so please let me go…!” the man cried out with tears in his eyes.

“not yet,” you reply with a monotone voice. “my other friends still want something from you.”

his eyes widened and continued to thrash in his restraints. you only shake your head and pull out your phone to text silver wolf and blade for any updates. “are you really a nameless?” the man beside asked with so much gentleness. your initial frustration washed away completely you began to wonder if he was using his powers on you. but when you looked at his eyes, you saw nothing but sincere concern.

“was, sunday.” you look away from him and look over to the horizon, the sun is rising. 

“is it connected to the explosion the man said?” he asks, voice laced with concern and curiosity.

you press your lips together, looking down at the cylinder container in your hands. “it’s all in the past now. irrelevant pieces of information.” elio meows at you both and starts walking to where the stairs are. “this is a story better left unfinished, sunday. so please don’t try to see how it ends.”

the trip back home was quiet and awkward. you sat in the passenger seat this time while silver wolf and sunday sat in the back. every so often, sunday’s eyes would flick over to you. silently looking out the window, the cylinder in your lap as you drummed a beat on it to try and distract yourself from the fatigue of last night’s mission.

an elbow to his side made him wince slightly. he turned to glare at the girl beside him who showed her phone. sunday squinted his eyes in confusion when he read the message silver wolf sent to him.

favorite?

“we’re here.” blade’s voice cut through the quiet and still atmosphere. both sunday and silver wolf looked up from their phones just in time to see you leave the car with elio in tow. 

when everyone entered the building, you put the cylinder on one of the couches and greet firefly and kafka in the kitchen. briefly excusing yourself from the two and following elio down a corridor he’s never gone through before. 

sunday’s eyes never once left your figure even after you disappeared into a room with destiny’s slave. mind swimming with more questions about your past and yourself in general. he pondered on what silver wolf meant when you were elio’s favorite. not to mention the sudden info dump on you being an old nameless from the astral express. 

who exactly are you, [name]?

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[theabysss]

Plush toy

pairing: sagau!Zhongli x Reader

summary: Zhongli performs his evening prayer, goes to bed and suddenly finds himself in your plush toy.

warnings: yandere, possessive & obsessive thoughts, religious + cult themes.

word count: 1.1k

note: Okay, I give up, I just can't stop writing at night. My body and inspiration are in cahoots to keep me from writing during the day. I ordered acrylic stands with Zhongli and Dottore, it remains to wait for them to arrive. Life is not so bad (looks askance at the last exam, it would be better without you)

Zhongli kneels and clasps his hands in prayer, as he has done so many times before. He was in his apartment on the harbor in a room dedicated to you, with a statue of you that he personally sculpted with his geo powers. Once at a time, he tried to capture your image in stone, and he considered this his attempt the most successful of all, even if it did not fully convey all your grace, mercy, power, beauty. But this is all he could be content with until the moment you go down to Teyvat physically.

On especially bad days, when his longing for you became especially strong, when he could no longer pretend that a life spent not in your radiance was meaningless, Zhongli stood in front of your statue for days, desperately praying. Praying for your return, not allowing himself to be interrupted for a second, whispering through cracked lips, when every word was a blade passing through a parched throat, he wanted to feel all your splendor, and not the pitiful crumbs that he felt next to the traveler.

His soul still found solace when you were around, even if your presence was ephemeral, but deep in his heart, Zhongli wanted to see your physical form. To be able to hear your voice, to see how emotions change on your face, to finally give all the gifts accumulated over the millennia. To dress you up in Liyue's best outfits made from the most expensive silk, feed you the most delicious meals, and be able to directly enjoy your divine presence, which always filled his heart with warmth. He desperately wanted it all, with all his draconic greed.

Zhongli finishes his daily evening prayer and, before leaving the room, takes one last look at your statue, full of longing and reverence. He performs evening routines, go to bed and slowly falls asleep, his last thought is about you. If he had a chance to see you even for a second, there's nothing he wouldn't do.

When Zhongli opens his eyes, his vision is very hazy and blurry, the body seems somehow cottony, completely motionless and small. He tries to blink and move, but he can't. When the vision finally becomes clear again, Zhongli's heart skips a beat and then begins to beat furiously. He sees you sitting at the table behind some strange luminous rectangle on which pictures move. Zhongli desperately tries to call you, but no sound escapes his lips. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. How could this happen? He just fell asleep, and now he was here next to you, though in some very strange state.

Everything becomes completely unimportant when Zhongli hears your laughter and notices your smile. You were beautiful, perfect, his wish came true, he was so close to you, directly watching you. For about fifteen more minutes, which seemed to him the most wonderful eternity in the world, Zhongli simply absorbed your emotions, your appearance, he was unable to get enough of you. You were his oasis in the middle of the desert to which he walked for five thousand years.

When the rectangle in front of you goes out, you get up from your seat and leave the room. He glares at you longingly, but now at least Zhongli has the opportunity to analyze the situation in which he finds himself. He collects his thoughts and tries to sort out his sensation and what he sees. A minute later, Zhongli comes to the conclusion that he was in a plush toy, out of the corner of his eye he can see others nearby. Well, it was strange, but he wasn't going to complain, rather, on the contrary, he was infinitely grateful for the opportunity to be near you, even so. It's true that you didn't seem to know about his presence, Zhongli wouldn't want to invade your life without permission, but it doesn't seem like he had a choice, he couldn't even close his eyes.

For the next half hour he hears a noise water and assumes that you are taking a bath. Zhongli can't help but look at the interior of your room, the colors in which it is decorated, the arrangement of furniture, trying to memorize as much as possible so that he can then reproduce the furnishings in Liyue later. All to increase the chances that you will like the place he created and want to stay.

Zhongli notices several photos, they show you with some people, joyful and smiling. Who were they? Other followers who have been given the great honor of being pictured with you in the same image? Or is it someone more important to you? The reason why you still have not descended to Teyvat fully, Zhongli feels jealousy and anger in his heart for those who dared to take your attention. But all negative thoughts fly out of his head when you return back to the room. You are wearing only a bathrobe and Zhongli definitely swallowed dryly if he could, your skin looks so soft, steamed, tender, the way it glistens in the lamplight, it makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. It seems to him that he is not worthy to see this picture, the beautiful work of art that you are now.

When you approach and take him in your arms, Zhongli feels a moment of panic. Did you know he was here? How could he justify himself? But you just take him and go to bed. When you turn off the light and lie down next to him, he holds his breath. You cover yourself with a blanket and pull the toy that he was now towards you and Zhongli's mind thrashes about. It was all so much like a dream, a wonderful false dream, too beautiful to be true. Before you fall asleep, you kiss him briefly and he melts like a mist flower corolla on a hot day. Zhongli hears how your breathing becomes calmer and more measured and just enjoys this sound, gradually he is lulled, although he is desperately trying not to fall asleep so as not to miss a moment with you, but he does not succeed.

Zhongli wakes up from the sun's rays hitting his face, and as soon as memories reach him, he immediately jumps up on the bed, staring into the void in prostration. Did he dream everything? But you were so alive, so real in his memories. The whole next day, Zhongli is extremely confused and Hu Tao sends him home early, and he doesn't even try to dissuade her. You completely occupy all his thoughts, and in his heart the hope burns that this was something more than a dream. And when he goes to bed after the evening prayer, Zhongli longs to see you again. Just one more time.

Dragons were known for their greed, so he would never get enough. Always one more time and never the last. After all, the more he had, the more he wanted.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[drowningmist]

𓇢𓆸 [4:14 AM] GOJO SATOROU

You glared at your phone, infront of you on the mattress which had been ringing for five minutes straight.

12 missed calls from toru☆ , it shows.

Your phone brightened again with a message

"Baby please pick up the phone"

You grabbed your rectangle and switched it off. You were never like this, never ignored the stressful situations, always confronted them but right now you were in a tight spot yourself.

You have been with gojo satoru the gojo satoru for 8 months now and you were happy, happier with him. But never dated before the sudden relationship made changes in your life which you only came to notice now. Now you had a person to remind you to take rest after studying, now there was a person waiting for you to cuddle him, now you saw places never seen before although leaving in this city for almost 2 years. Now you had conversations with your aged people that didn't end with just a small question related to assignments. Maybe, you liked the nows so much, this new change in your life that you side tracked from your goal, what you came her for. This was your dream university for which you worked so damn hard to get in, it took you two attempts to get into this uni , the first time you got sidetracked , had friends , you get swayed by them. The failure gave you a reality check and only you knew how hopelessly and desperately you tried again, completely alone fighting your depressed tired mind that you will make it this time and you did and you swore you would never repeat your mistakes and only focus on being the best student in your firm and get placement, a job , a peaceful solace life. That was your plan but then came gojo satoru.

He was in bussiness branch, you being in robotics and automation. But you both shared a few clubs and that was enough for the gojo satoru to set an eye on you. That was it, man had your whole schedule revised, your cafe order to you favourite place in the library. Initially, you despised him. He had everything you didn't have, got admission cuz he was rich while you rubbed your ass, unsurprisingly popular and surprisingly one of the best bussiness student for straight two years. You often wondered when did he studied and how much, did he even had time for it after his night outs . Maybe it was jealousy you felt but you don't know, your heart don't know what he his eyes did to you in the two years of knowing, from pulling away and pushing his advantages to grabbing his face to gently peck him from making a disgusting face when he was around to greeting him with open arms and snuggling to his chest.

But yesterday's results of your mid semester pulled you back on earth. Yeah , afterall you didn't belonged there with the gojo satoru who had everything you didn't and gained everything you couldn't. Unlike him you had to be consistent you weren't gifted, hardwork was your key. You weren't here to fall in love, you were here to be the best student. And maybe it was your insecurity but you always thought you were just his temporary infatuation, a fling, you thought it wouldn't last he will get bored of your stiff personality and leave you alone. But you were immune to being left alone what you feared was the failure you didn't wanted to repeat the pattern. So, you broke up with him and in the worst way possible on a text. Maybe it was intentional you wanted him to stop chasing you, stop loving you , stop looking at you as the most priced possession.

There was a knock on the door, you remained still but then the few more thuds had you standing on your doorstep.

"I know you are there open up"

" its early sato- gojo, go home". You gulped down your whimpers and spoke sternly.

You heard a dry laugh from the other side

"Gojo, huh?"

Then there was another thud on your door making you jump, this one was the loudest.

"Stop , you will disturb the neighbors! "

"You open the door and I'll stop knocking" he replied curtly

Sighing you open the door mentally readying your break up speech. But you didn't get the chance, just as you opened the door gojo was pulling you to your couch settling you there and then crouching down to your eye level and flashing you his phone screen.

" Explain".

You eyed his phone it was opened to your today's conversation more specifically your message of breaking it off.

You looked at him but immediately looked away.

Was he able to make this type of face before?

" there's nothing to explain, I want to break up with you"

He scoffed

"Why?"

"You are .. you sighed " I don't want to be in a relationship now"

"Should have thought before kissing me"

You glared at him

" I am not able to manage it all. My studies and our relationship "

Gojo cupped your face and sighed

"Oh baby.., you should have said so ,we can just study togeher its a win win, u see? we could plan study dates then ..hmm yeah thats a good change of pace, we can meet in the library and study or we could plan home dates too-

"Gojo" he stopped

"You don't get it.. i-i don't want to be in a relationship! I want to focus on my studies"

"Nobody is stopping you from studying and your way of studying is not healthy at all. it's always good to relax and don't worry about managing stuff I'm a part of your life now just like you are of mine, all I want is for you to be healthy and happy . who will stop you when you are at your limit-

"You are a distraction gojo! You are the problem if it weren't for you then I wouldn't have to go through all this again I don't want to experience that shitty feeling of being a failure!"

''distraction''

his lower lip wobbled as he tried not to sniff even thought there were no tears in his eyes.he was looking at you with flummoxed expression on his face.

you paused at his crack of voice and kept your head low.

''just leave please''

Nobody said anything and gojo got up and left without uttering another word and you remained still tears cascading your eyes which started to fall as you heard the door shut.

[randomcreator-09]

It's Cuffing Season (Jonathan Crane x Barista!Reader)

(Gif ain't mine > @breakfastonuranus)

✨NSFW [Stockholm Syndrome (Pretty self-explanatory), Abduction, Chocking, Bondage (cuffing), Oral (M!Rec), DubCon (cnc maybe?), PnV (Wrap it before you Tap it), Breeding kink, Candle Play, Overstimulation, and some other things that I may have forgotten], He fell in love with you but you didn't love him (as much) back so he had to do what any villain would do ^^, Crane's top but a softy his little princess, Crane just loves us~, Yes a lil Fluff and a bit of angst :3, also maybe mention of death (Parents)✨

🐧I'm learning my vocabs on NSFW content XD look how I'm adding up every smut warnings I know XD and it's actually not there XD. Please tell me if those are actually in the story damn :"D. Anyways this fic is for that request made, I hope this satisfies your need :3 cuz it did mine XD Although the phasing might be fast somehow... I tried putting all my ideas in one place heh, I hope I wrote it well :"D also the song comes in my mind as I wrote this is the one above... It's cuffing season~🐧

5K Words (I tried shortening it really... this is the best I could do ack)

Now... enjoy you mentally ill people (like me XD)

KINDLY REBLOG TO REACH MORE PEEPS ^^ (also heart it if you love it ^^ tnx)

-----

"Jonathan Crane!" you screamed to the top of your lungs as you read the order name on the cup. Looking around to see if anyone would answer to that name, and there he came.

A man in his well-tailored black suit, accompanied by his brown vest and black tie. A divine for any lady to look at, but for you it was the last thing you found interesting about. You didn't have time to swoon over men right now. Tuition at your college was more than the budget your parents left you before passing and you had to work your ass off to get through. Plus this business was not running well (your parent's business) so you had to do what had to be done, work to the bones.

"Thanks, Miss?" he muttered as he grabbed his drink from the counter and looked you straight in the eye. He had ocean blue eyes that were accessorized with his rectangle cut glasses which made him look more heavenly. His lips pursed and cheeks well contoured, anyone could really just fall in love with this man with one look, you thought, but not you.

You were making the next order as you spoke, "Y/N" you said without thinking of anything, flashing him a quick smile before returning to getting busy.

He smiled back, but you didn't see that as you busied yourself. He nodded before leaving the store. It was sunny that day, a busy day in Gotham City. People out and about, havoc on the neighboring store and policemen drinking their coffee in your store, this was Gotham City, bow.

-----(Jonathan Crane POV)

As Jonathan walked through the streets of Gotham City, he smirked. 'Y/N's hands were on this cup' he thought smiling to himself, as he sipped through the lid. It has been long since he was obsessed with something, not to mention someone other than Batman.

He first saw you on the day havoc happened at your store, a burglary. He was in line to order his usual coffee, clearly pissed at how the line was moving slowly when three masked men came in pointing guns at your employee. It was his first time seeing you then, the owner of the café.

You came out with a nonchalant look as you came from the back kitchen and pointed a loaded shotgun at the masked men. "Out" was the only thing you said as the masked men went running (unfortunately their guns were empty and were just actually toys). He was amused how you knew their guns were empty, even then, you exuded confidence in what you did that day, something Crane found fascinating.

From then on he went to the café from day to day (if he had the time even hour by hour). When you weren't there he would just walk away with nothing in hand, but when you were, he'd order everything on the menu to keep you standing there picking his order from the glassed window, to see your cleavage creeping out your tight V-neck shirt, as his pants would feel tight with his bulge poking it. He really should do something about his obsession with you he thought.

And think he did. He has planned to abduct you and manage your dead parent's business while you were gone, so you'd call him a 'good boy' after manipulating your mind to love him. He planned on paying for your tuition after it too! He has spoken to your school's board to give you a scholarship already (to which you declined because the head of your college was known to give scholarships to people he'd like to fuck). He had a room for you in his apartment already, complete with all the clothes you have in your own small apartment (with extra touches of clothes he likes to see you in... such as expensive lingerie and such).

'Just you wait my love' he thought as he kept the empty cup to his stash of cups with your handwriting on his office desk drawer. 'you will be mine soon', as he closes the drawer shut with a bright smile.

-----(Your POV)

You breath was a mess, your memory a foggy one, as your vision went on and off.

You only remembered the dark night enveloping the streets. As you closed the shop early today (because one of your employees had midterm examinations and you had too), you were out at the back of the shop throwing the heavy bag of trash to the bin when your sight turned dark.

In panic, you tried to fight the four arms that kept you from removing the bag over your head to no avail. Screaming was useless in Gotham, so you didn't try to do so. They guided you up in a spaced van and tied your hand back, they were being rather careful with you, you thought. Like a porcelain from china being transported to the England museum.

Before you know it you were dead asleep, as you inhaled funny smelling air (sleeping gas you presumed).

Minutes passed by as your vision went on again. Seeing that handsome blue-eyed man smiling at the sight of you, and your out again.

-----(Jonathan Crane's POV)

'She's here!' Jonathan's mind was in haywire. He was excited as he saw you being ushered in his apartment by two of his men. However his smile faltered as he sees your wrist red from the rope tied around it.

"Fuck! I told you to be careful with her! You fucking dimwits!" he screamed as he trashed around his living room, throwing anything he saw to his men. "Sorry, Sir Crane, she was a feisty one you see-" he shot the man, he had no time for explanations. "Get out of my sight" he glared at the other who ran out.

Jonathan kneeled down to untie you and remove the black bag over your head. Oh, how majestic you looked sleeping, he could stare at you forever, even maybe when the two of you are old, he smiled at that.

"Welcome Home, Y/N" as he kissed your forehead before carrying you princess-style to your new room.

-----(Your POV)

As you blinked your eyes, adjusting to the light of the room. You finally see the room you were in, it was not your room. Panic consumes you as you realize there were shackles on your wrist, chained to the bed.

You couldn't possibly scream now, since you didn't scream earlier where it could have been evident. You just observed the room, looking for something to get yourself free. The room was in your favourite colour, shockingly it made you more at ease than panic. Some of your missing favorite clothes were on the open closet as well, with boxes of maybe new clothes. Pair of shoes and sandals that screamed 'expensive', you thought of the possibility that maybe a girl abducted you, but some of them were visibly your size.

Before you could find a way to escape the door creeks open. You close your eyes to pretend to be sleeping, but the person to open it doesn't seem to buy it.

"Oh Darling, I mean no harm," his deep voice echoes the room. You closely open your eyes to see the same man that goes to your cafe shop and only ever smiles at you.

"You!" exclaiming as you squirm through the chain to fight him. He rushes to you as he places a tray of food on the floor. "Darling, Darling Angel calm down my Love. I am here to protect you from this dangerous world, I am your only hope in this dark world. By the time everything is in havoc, you are safe here." as he tries to sooth you, patting your head as he sat beside your bedside.

"Fuck You, Jonathan!" you hiss at him, remembering his name as he was always in your cafe, in which he chuckles. "I believe that's not how you thank your saviour love," his voice in a darker tone than earlier as he stands up and picks up the tray of food, placing it on your lap. "Now, I will remove the cuffs on your wrist and you eat peacefully without fighting your savior or..." he pauses as his fingers tickle your wrist and moving slowly to grip on your neck ever so softly "... We do it the hard way and I might punish you, which, believe me, you might even enjoy, Y/N" as he smirks at you.

It took all in you to not tear up then. You prayed to God that this was just a sick dream and that you fainted from overworking, but it wasn't. As you feel his hands tighten their grip making you look at him, you suddenly drown in his ocean-blue eyes. If you weren't a busy woman and had time to date you'd probably dated him before, but this was sick, something you never thought a man with such a political figure like him would do.

Kicking the tray of food to the floor, you squirmed again, the cuffs tightening with your every move. Swearing to his face that you will never cooperate with him and he can kiss your ass. He laughs at that, he stands up after releasing your neck as you gasp for air. He then cleans up your mess and closes the door with a rather loud bang. As you cried in the room, waiting for the inevitable 'punishment'.

Hours has passed and the room turned dark along with the night creeping in the room. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Your breath hitched as the sound of footsteps filled the room, heavier this time. Jonathan Crane appeared once more, but now the light was dimmer, casting flickering shadows across his face. In his hand, a single candle burned, the flame dancing in the darkness.

"You seem to have a lot of fight in you," he murmured, setting the candle on a nearby table. "But I wonder..." He trailed off, his voice low and taunting as he approached the bed, pulling a small chair closer to where you lay cuffed. "How long will that fire last?"

He dragged the chair, its legs scraping against the floor, and sat down. His eyes gleamed with a sick curiosity, studying your every move, every breath. His fingers hovered over the flame, feeling its heat before he slowly turned his gaze back to you.

"You know, fear has many faces," he whispered. His hand, now inches from your skin, tilted the candle slightly. A bead of hot wax dripped, falling closer... closer...

"Please..." You whispered staring at the falling bead of wax rolling down the candle.

The first drop landed just above your stomach, the sting sharp but fleeting. You flinched, a hiss escaping your lips. Jonathan smirked, leaning forward. "Fear, pain... they blend together. And soon, you'll understand just how much I can make you feel."

The next drop fell, then another, each landing with precision, calculated to push you further without overwhelming you. Every slight movement you made only caused the shackles to tighten, reminding you of your helplessness.

"You will cooperate," he whispered darkly, "whether you like it or not."

The steady drip of hot wax continued, each drop sending a fresh wave of stinging heat across your skin. You couldn’t help it—you began to squirm, the restraints digging deeper into your wrists as you tried to twist away. Your heart raced, fear coursing through every vein.

“P-please,” you gasped, your voice shaking as you felt the heat of the wax inching closer to your chest. “Stop, I—I can’t take it.”

Jonathan’s eyes flickered with amusement, his lips curling into a smile that sent chills down your spine. He tilted the candle just enough to let a few more drops fall, ignoring your pleas. "Begging already?" he teased, the sound of his laughter dark and unsettling.

You squirmed harder, desperate to escape the pain, but there was nowhere to go. The shackles held you in place, trapping you in his game. "Jonathan, please!" you cried out, your voice breaking. "Stop, I’ll do whatever you want, just—please!"

He stood up then, towering over you, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy. "Do you really think begging will change anything?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “This is only the beginning.”

He chuckled, low and menacing, as he straightened, letting another drop fall from the candle with eerie precision. “I want you to remember this moment. Every time you think of resisting me... every time you think you have any control.”

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut as the heat burned into your skin again. His laugh echoed in your ears, cruel and unrelenting, as if your suffering was nothing more than a twisted form of entertainment for him.

"You’ll break," he said, his voice eerily calm. "And when you do... you’ll beg me to continue."

Your body trembled under the growing layer of hardened wax, the pain numbing into a dull throb as you finally broke down, tears slipping down your cheeks. Sobs wracked your chest, your will shattered as you lay helpless beneath him, the hot wax pooling in small rivers over your skin, solidifying into painful reminders of his control.

Jonathan finally paused, watching the tears fall with a look of satisfaction in his cold eyes. He placed the candle back on the table, its flame still flickering faintly. His gaze drifted down your body, where the wax now covered your skin in thick patches. He licked his lips, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension.

Your eyes flickered downwards, catching the unmistakable bulge in his pants. The air shifted, heavier now, as he undid his belt with a slow, deliberate movement, the metal buckle clinking softly in the oppressive quiet.

His voice was low and dangerous as he looked down at you. "You've been such a defiant girl, Y/N," he said, his tone almost casual. "Now… you’re going to make it up to me."

He tugged down his pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood there, commanding and unyielding. "I think you know what comes next," he murmured, stepping closer, your eyes never leaving his as you tried to keep it there. "And listen very carefully—if I feel your teeth, you'll wish I had only used wax." you gritted your teeth as he aligns his length to your lips, making you look at his pink veiny cock.

He leaned in, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force you to meet his gaze. His grip was firm, but the smirk on his face was even crueler. "Now," he ordered, his voice deepening with lust. "Take me. And don't make me regret giving you this chance."

As you slowly opened your mouth to accommodate his grit. He slowly moved in your mouth. Soliciting a quiet moan out his lips as he slowly thrusts in and out your mouth, hands still tangled on your hair. "Good... Good girl," he hissed as his head bobs back from pleasure.

Tears ran down your cheeks as your throat chokes on the tip of his cock. Shackles still on your wrist as he slowly picks up his phase, making you squirm again, moaning at how his restless speed in your mouth made you feel soaking wet down below, bucking your knees together to create friction.

His speed was ethereal now, you hesitated, your throat tightening as you leaned forward, but Jonathan’s grip on your hair tightened, his warning clear in his eyes. You started, gagging slightly as he pushed you to take him deeper, but there was no room for hesitation. The pressure built, and just as you choked, he pulled back slightly, his hand flashing across your face with a sharp slap.

"Don’t stop now," he growled, dragging you back roughly. The force left no room for escape as he pushed you to take him fully, his breath quickening, his control slipping as you obeyed, doing your best to keep up. His pace quickened until the tension broke, and you felt him reach his climax.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Take it! Take it, love!" Jonathan groaned, his body shuddering with release as he rutted into your mouth, the taste of him thick on your tongue. He held you there for a moment longer before finally pulling away, leaving you gasping for air, your throat raw and your body trembling.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, Jonathan's hands moved to the cuffs, undoing them with a gentleness that sharply contrasted the earlier brutality. As the restraints fell away, your sore wrists ached from the pressure, but you barely registered the pain.

“Shhh, it’s alright now,” he murmured softly, easing your arms down to your sides as you panted weakly, exhaustion washing over you. He wiped the sweat and wax from your skin with a damp cloth, moving with surprising care as he cleaned away the hardened remnants from your body. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he wiped the corners of your mouth, his fingers brushing lightly against your lips.

“You did so well,” he whispered, his voice now gentle, devoid of the harsh edge it had held moments before. “You’re perfect.” His words were soft, almost affectionate, as he covered you with a warm blanket, tucking it around your body as if wrapping you in a cocoon of safety. "My fucking perfect angel." as he kissed your forehead.

As your eyes fluttered closed, too tired to fight sleep, Jonathan leaned down, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Rest now. You're mine, and I’ll take care of you," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly until you finally drifted off into unconsciousness.

-----(Months after abduction, Batman is dead)

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself as you gazed out the window, your reflection staring back at you. Months ago, you had cried endlessly, resisting every touch and command Jonathan gave. Now, those tears seemed so distant, almost laughable. The ‘punishments’ he promised had turned into something you craved—each session pushing you to new heights of pleasure. And afterward, the aftercare was so tender, so sweet, you had never felt so wanted. So cared for.

He had taken over everything: your safety, your business, and even your education. Your café ran smoothly under his careful management, leaving you to focus on finances from the comfort of his condo. The outside world? It felt foreign now, just a backdrop beyond the glass. Here, with him, was all you needed.

The door clicked open, and you immediately recognized the soft footsteps crossing the threshold. You didn’t turn around, but you could feel his presence before he even touched you. Jonathan was back.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you against him. “How was your day?” he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You leaned back into his chest, feeling the weight of the day fade away as you melted into his embrace.

“Hard,” you groaned, thinking about the lessons. The professors he hired for you weren’t easy, and today had been especially draining. “College was hard... why do they make it so difficult?” (The professors came to the apartment, Jonathan doesn't want his princess to walk or drain herself to go out).

Jonathan chuckled softly, his hands trailing up and down your waist and hips in slow, soothing movements. "Difficult?" he whispered, pulling your head back gently so that your lips were inches from his. "I’ll have to deal with that professor, then... make sure they know better than to push you too hard."

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a kiss, his grip firm as he held you in place. The tension melted from your body as you sank into him, the world outside completely forgotten. The kiss was slow but possessive, his lips claiming yours with an undeniable hunger that left you breathless.

When he finally pulled away, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice was a low, commanding murmur. “Let’s go upstairs.”

You nodded, your body already responding to his words, anticipation building as he guided you up the stairs to the room, knowing exactly what was coming next.

As you reached the top of the stairs, Jonathan didn’t lead you toward his room. Instead, he pulled you toward yours. The familiar space, the one place that was entirely yours within his domain, now felt smaller with him so close. The moment you entered, he pressed you firmly against the wall, his body pinning yours in a way that made your breath hitch.

His lips captured yours again, more intense this time, his hand snaking around your waist as he deepened the kiss. You could feel the controlled desire in the way he held you, as though he was fighting to maintain his composure. When he finally broke the kiss, his eyes darkened as they roamed over you, a quiet hunger simmering beneath the surface.

With deliberate slowness, Jonathan reached for the silky coat draped over your body, sliding it off your shoulders with one fluid motion. The fabric fell to the floor, pooling around your feet, leaving you standing there in the black lingerie you knew he adored. His breath hitched, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he took in the sight before him.

The lingerie clung to your curves, the sheer black fabric leaving little to the imagination. Intricate lace patterns adorned the cups, framing your chest in a way that was both delicate and provocative. Thin straps crisscrossed over your torso, highlighting your waist, while the sheer fabric cascaded down, barely covering the tops of your thighs. The black lace was cut in such a way that it hinted at more, teasing him, daring him to explore further.

Jonathan’s breathing became shallow, his eyes locked onto you as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. "You really do know how to get under my skin," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he stepped closer, his hands tracing the outline of the lace. “You wore this... just for me?”

You nodded slightly, your skin tingling under his touch. His fingers trailed along the delicate fabric, his restraint faltering as he admired every inch of you. "Good girl," he whispered, the praise low and possessive, sending a shiver down your spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Jonathan leaned in again, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your heart race. This kiss was different—fiercer, more demanding—as he poured all his desire into it. You melted against him, feeling the weight of his body against yours.

In one swift motion, he removed his vest and necktie, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. The smooth fabric of his shirt clung to his form as he slipped it off, revealing the taut lines of his chest and arms. Your breath caught at the sight, his body a perfect blend of strength and control.

Before you could fully process what was happening, he took your wrists, binding them together behind your back with his necktie. The gesture was possessive, a reminder that you were his, and the thrill of being restrained sent a rush of excitement through you.

With a gentle push, Jonathan guided you back toward the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The moment your back hit the mattress, he hovered above you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your abdomen, trailing up to your neck, where he nibbled lightly, teasingly, as if savoring every moment.

“You have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, each word laced with fervent desire. He continued kissing his way back to your lips, his voice low and filled with promise. “I could breed you right now, make you mine in every way.”

His lips found yours again, deeper and more passionate, as he whispered more pleasurable words that made your skin tingle and your body ache for him. “You were made for this,” he murmured between kisses, his hands exploring the curve of your waist, igniting a fire within you that was impossible to ignore.

As Jonathan continued to kiss you, his hands roaming your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your knees began to buckle, the sensations overwhelming as you squirmed beneath him, searching for more friction, more connection. Each subtle movement sent sparks coursing through your veins, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

Jonathan noticed immediately, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He pulled back slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement and desire. "What do you want, love?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, relishing the power he held over you.

You bit your lip, your breath coming in quick gasps as you looked up at him, eyes filled with need. “Please,” you begged, your voice trembling with urgency. “I want you... I need you to take me.”

His smirk widened, satisfaction radiating from him at your plea. “Is that what you really want?” he taunted, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. “To feel me inside you?”

“Yes! Please, Jonathan,” you begged, the desperation in your voice making it clear just how much you craved him. You felt vulnerable, yet utterly alive, and the anticipation sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips again, the kiss a mixture of passion and possession. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

With a low, sultry laugh, Jonathan’s hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with deliberate slowness. You watched, breathless, as he pulled his belt free, the leather falling to the floor with a soft thud. Next, he unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down his hips until they pooled at his ankles, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him as he locked his eyes onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, the air thick with anticipation. “Now, tell me again,” he said, his voice a deep growl, “What do you want?”

Your heart raced, the need for him consuming your thoughts. “I want you, Jonathan,” you replied, your voice a soft plea. “I need you to take me, to claim me as yours.”

"Fuck," he says with a low growl, Jonathan removed his boxers, exposing himself fully as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. As he aligned himself with your entrance, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “You were just made for this, weren’t you, love?”

Without warning, he pushed into you hard, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure as he bottomed out. You felt him stretching you, the sensation igniting a fire within you.

“Jonathan,” you moaned, your body arching to meet him as he began to move, he placed his arms behind your back as he thrusts deliberately and powerful. The world around you faded away, leaving only the rhythm of his body against yours and the electric connection between you.

His thrusts became faster, harder, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel your climax building, as his thumb drew circles on you clit, the tension coiling tighter with each movement. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You feel so good around me.”

As you neared the edge, he leaned down, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans as you spiraled into your first climax. Your body quaked, waves of ecstasy washing over you as he continued to thrust, riding the waves of your pleasure.

“Look at you,” he growled, watching your face with a predatory gaze. “So beautiful when you come apart for me. I want to see you do it again.”

The words sent another shock of pleasure through you, and you felt yourself approaching another orgasm. Jonathan picked up his pace, his hips driving into you relentlessly, urging you closer and closer. “Come for me again,” he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to feel you clench around me.”

With a final thrust, you tumbled over the edge again, your body quaking as your second climax took you by storm. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and desperation, and Jonathan’s grip on your hips tightened as he surged deeper.

“Fuck, take it!” he groaned, his own climax building as he thrust into you one last time. “Take my fucking seed, princess. Be filled with my seed and carry my child, angel.”

As he released himself deep inside you, you felt the warmth spreading, a final wave of bliss washing over you. Screaming as the world blurred at the edges, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment of connection, pleasure, and possessiveness.

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, Jonathan huffed and puffed, catching his breath. He looked down at you, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “You’re absolutely perfect,” he said, his voice low and warm. “The way that lingerie hugs your body, it was made for me. Your breasts bounce just right for me to enjoy.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your skin as he pressed gentle kisses to your breasts, savoring the way they felt beneath his mouth. Each kiss sent a thrill through you, and your breath hitched, the sensation making your heart race. You loved being worshipped like this, the feeling of his admiration washing over you, igniting a fire of desire deep within.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with reverence. He pulled back slightly to admire the way the lingerie framed your figure before carefully removing himself from you. You felt a rush of emptiness at his absence, but he quickly set to work, cleaning you off with gentle hands, his touch almost reverent.

After making sure you were taken care of, he leaned down again to press a soft kiss to your lips, lingering just a moment longer. “Such a good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, his tone affectionate and possessive. He reached behind you, deftly untying the necktie that had bound your wrists, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

With a smile, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. “How was your day?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It was long,” he replied, nuzzling against your hair. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

You both lay back against the bed, the night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. As you nestled into his side, the warmth and safety enveloping you made you forget all about the world outside—and the circumstances that had brought you together.

In that moment, it felt like everything was perfect, just as it should be, and you let the worries of the past fade away into the night, content to simply be with him.

-----

🐧Damn... Rollercoaster it was to write this XD I hope it gave off Stockholm syndrome aha :"D Anyways I loved Jonathan Crane on this fic :"3 his the possesive I need >:D but at the same time its kinda... lovely how he abducted us like we were a stray cat and never letting us go out but also respecting our privacy by having his own room too. Yeah he has his own room but he comes to yours becuase he likes sleeping with you better. Anyways hope you enjoyed it hehe ^^🐧

Tags are in the comment

[hiddenonyx]

Obey Me! Characters Walking in on MC Showering

Notes: fem MC!, suggestive content, nudity

Word count: 3.4K - about 290 per character

A/N: You'll probably be able to tell, but this was written over the course of like...3 months? So it's a little disjointed and you can most certainly tell who I was more inspired for. Thank to Pen for giving me ideas for Simeon and Solomon. -------------

After a little planning mishap, you end up sharing a hotel room (and bed) with them. It’s a little awkward, but you’re too tired to truly care. Right now, you really just want a shower. Any other thoughts be damned.

—

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not gonna take forever, calm down," you answer back to your temporary roommate. "It's just a shower to refresh a little."

You shift your half folded clothes in your arms so you can close the bathroom door.  You don't bother to lock it - after all they'll have to know that you're still in the bathroom if you're not out in the room, right? You set your clothes on the oversized countertop, before going over to the shower. It's a simple rectangle shower with a glass door, but isn't so horrible small that you're crowding yourself inside of it. After a few minutes of trying to figure out how to even turn the damn thing on, you get the water running and turn away to strip as the water warms up. But before you step in, you grab your phone and set the all important music. You turn it up so it's just loud enough to contend with the noise of the shower, set it on the counter nearby and step in. A sigh escapes you as the warm water sprays on your skin. Maybe you'll take a little longer than you said...

—

Lucifer

     He watches you disappear into the bathroom, not believing you when you told him it'll be a "quick" shower (40 minutes is not quick, MC). He goes back to reading through the tourist pamphlet for a factory, allowing the soft noise of the shower and distant music lull him into a feeling of soft relaxation. It's not until nearly an hour later that he realizes that you're still in the shower. Mild concern paints his face as he stands up and makes his way over to the closed bathroom door. The sound of your music is a little louder now and he can hear you humming along.

    "MC?" he asks softly, gently tapping his knuckles against the door. He repeats the actions a little louder when you don't answer. When you still don't answer, Lucifer hesitates, before giving a resigned sigh and opening the door. 

     His question of if you're alright dies on his tongue as he's greeted with the image of your perfect naked body partially obscured by condensation on the glass door. Your back is towards him as you hum along to a song, hands busy washing your hair, completely unaware that Lucifer's walked in on you. He's frozen to the spot for a few moments, his mind screaming at him to close the door and walk away like nothing's happened, but his body simply won't respond. He's stuck staring at your gorgeous form for what seems like an eternity.

    Then you start to turn around. Lucifer's body suddenly wakes up and he damn near slams the door off its hinges as he hurries to close it. You startle and call after him, confused and so blissfully unaware, "Lucifer? Was that you? Is something wrong?"

—

Mammon

     He grumbles as he watches you disappear into the bathroom. He knows that you'll take forever, and there's nothing to do in this tiny shoe box-excuse of a room. He pouts a little more - how dare you leave the Great Mammon bored?! When he hears the shower start and the music kick up, he knows you're not going to come back right away (a small part of him hoped that you would forget something and have to come back out so that he could see you again). 

    Mammon looks around the room, eyes falling on your open bag. His eyes dart back to the closed door before he shrugs and starts to go through it. He's mildly interested by all the little knick-knacks and souvenirs that you've kept  from him and his brothers. He's just about to go through your wallet when a loud "thud" followed by your muffled cursing startles him. He bolts up from your stuff and looks to the bathroom, a guilty look painted on his face. But the door remains closed. Confused and a little concerned, Mammon approaches. 

    "MC? W-what was that?" he calls, but unbeknown to him, you can't hear him over the shower and your music. He pauses at the door and strains his ears to try and hear a response. When none comes, he starts to get nervous. Did you fall? Is that what the loud noise was? Are you injured?

    More than a little panicked, Mammon hurriedly opens the door, "MC-!" His voice dies on his tongue as you lock eyes. You're putting some kind of product on your hand (presumably to spread somewhere else), and fully naked. The condensation on the glass does a poor job of censoring your breasts and the curves of your waist. You look at him, surprised and confused, and perhaps a little embarrassed - he however, is bright red and stuck staring. It isn't until you start to say something that Mammon lets out a pathetic yelp and slams the door closed.

—

Levi

    Levi gives you a disbelieving look at your “I’ll be quick” claim, but shrugs it off; after all he has to do some daily tasks in “Ruri-Chan Flowers vs. Devils: Dance Dance Battle!”. He hears you start your shower just as the game loads. He cracks his knuckles before curling into his best gamer posture.

     Levi glances at the time as he closes the app - almost 2 hours later. He winces; he hadn’t intended to spend longer than 30 minutes doing his tasks, but a new event had started and he just had to get the ice queen skin for Ruri-Chan (it looks so elegant on her!). He listens for a second and doesn’t hear the shower running anymore. He looks around for you in the room (perhaps you entered the room when he was in the “zone” and didn’t notice), and is confused when he doesn’t see you. Curiously, he makes his way to the bathroom door and listens again: silence.

    “M-MC?” Levi asks nervously. When you don’t answer he opens the door tentatively. He’s greeted with the lovely embarrassing view of you mid change; wearing only your underwear.  He’s frozen to the spot, staring at how your bra barely contains your breasts, at how your panties accent and clings to your natural curves. 

     “L-Levi?” You ask, slightly embarrassed by his staring. His face is so red you’re worried he’ll pass out. After a few more seconds his brain seems to catch up and he covers his face and practically runs back to the bed, screaming apologies.

—

Satan

     He gives you a hum of acknowledgement at your announcement and turns the page of his new book. He hears the bathroom door click closed. He lets out a soft sigh of relaxation before settling fully in the chair. He knows that he'll have plenty of time to read in peace and quiet while you shower.

     Satan is fully immersed in his book when you call his name from the bathroom. He startles and almost bends the page. He looks over at the door, answering you back, "Yes?"

   "I forgot my pajamas on my bed. Could you bring them here, please?" Your voice is timid and embarrassed. He sighs softly - you make him do things that he wouldn't do for anyone else.

    "Yes. Just a second." He gently (and carefully) sets his book down on the table before standing up and going over to your bed. Your cute sleeping clothes are folded nicely in a single space (which he appreciates the neatness of). He picks them up just as gently as he had put his book down before walking over to the bathroom.

    He raps his knuckle gently against the door and waits for your answer. He doesn't hear the music or the water running, so he tries again slightly louder. When you fail to answer again, he gently opens the door and steps inside. 

    He's greeted with the view of you wrapped in a towel that just barely covers the important parts. Your breasts are nearly spilling over the top of the white towel (how the towel even remains wrapped around in the first place is a wonder). And the towel just barely covers the upper most part of your thighs. You scroll absently on your phone while you wait, unaware of Satan's presence. He stares for a few seconds, struggling to collect himself (how dare you be this nonchalant), before he softly clears his throat.

    You look over and give him an apologetic smile before reaching out to take the offered clothes. Satan closes the door and does his best to muffle the sigh he lets out. This is going to be a long trip.

—

Asmodeus

    He really wants to ask you if he can join you, but he figures that if you wanted him to join you, you would've extended an invitation. Perhaps you simply need a little bit to sort through your thoughts and memories of the day (which he understands - he does that too). Instead, he busies himself doing his skincare routine out in front of his travel mirror. It's far from the best, but it'll do for the night.

    Asmo hums idly to your muffled playlist, enjoying the odd domestic tone of the night. The situation is odd, with having to share a bed, he muses, but at least he can fall asleep right next to your cute self. It isn't until he's about to complete his last step in his extensive routine that he notices that your music has stopped. When did it stop? How long has the room been silent? Asmo strains his ears, but can't hear any other sounds.

    "Little dove? Are you done?" he calls softly. When you don't answer him, he gets up, and goes over to the bathroom door. He knocks, calling again, "Dove?"

    "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm done....hey, umm...could you help me? T-there's this knot in my hair."

    Asmo smiles softly before opening the door. He pays little mind to the fact that you've somehow managed to wrap and tie the hotel towel around your body (maybe you used a little magic), and instead focus on this knot of wet hair you're struggling to untangle. He gently takes the brush from you, his fingers ever so softly grazing your's, and gently pulls it from your hair. He hums as he begins to gently brush your hair out.

—

Beelzebub

    He nods in acknowledgement before popping another piece of candy in his mouth. It's some human world candy; some of the pieces are sweet and some of them are tart, and Beel never quite knows which kind he'll get. He sits on the bed, simply enjoying the snack and thinking - thinking about the day you've spent together.

    He's content for the time, but a loud "bampoof" followed by language Beel's only ever heard come from an angry Levi makes him pause mid chew. He swallows hard before rising from the bed.

    "MC? Are you okay?" His voice is soft but urgent. He rests his hand on the door, listening. He can still hear the water running, your music playing and...your mumbled curses. He breathes a sigh of relief; at least you're not unconscious. But still...

    He opens the door gently, eyes cast to the tiled floor trying to respect your privacy. "MC? A-are you okay? What happened?"

    You huff and rise to your feet, grabbing the offending soap bar that had slipped from your grip and caused you to fall after it. "Yeah, I'm fine...more or less. Hit my head slightly, " you mumble before looking over at Beel. His face, even staring at the title, is dusted pink. You can't help but smile and giggle. He blushes harder, before glancing at you.

    "Yeah, Beel, I'm fine. I'll be out in a few, okay?" you give him your biggest, most convincing smile. He nods, his face even redder now, before closing the door.

—

Belphegor

    He makes a half-assed noise to acknowledge you before covering his eyes with his arm. As long as he wakes up next to you, he doesn't really care how long you take. As he drifts off, he hears your music start playing. Despite the peppy-upbeatness it lulls him to sleep all the same.

     Belphie has no idea how much time has passed when he wakes up, but he does know that you're not in bed with him. Grumbling, he practically slides himself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom door. He grumbles, some sort of half asleep noise, before unceremoniously opening the door.

     "Belphie!" You squeak, scrambling to wrap yourself in a towel, smearing lotion on the white cloth. He sleepily sways towards you - too asleep to notice your state of undress. He wraps his arms around you and sleepily nuzzles your neck, mumbling something about you being late. You're frozen to place, one hand gently touching on Belphie's shoulder. 

    "Belphie." you say again, holding your breath. He makes a noise of some kind but continues to lean into you. You both stand there for a few minutes before Belphie raises his face to look at you. His eyes seem a little clear and he gives you a questioning look, "What? You weren't in bed," he pouts. 

    "Belphie...I'm naked."

    He stares at you and blinks dumbly for a second before his sleepy brain catches up. His face turns red and he bites his lip. Reluctantly he pulls away and looks at the floor.

    "S-sorry. I-I'll go." You giggle and smile, "It's okay. I'll be out in a few more minutes okay? And then I'll give you all the cuddles you want."

—

Diavolo

     He watches you disappear into the bathroom with a soft hum and smile. He turns his attention to the small smattering of various important documents that need his attention and signature (even on "vacation" the poor prince can never seem to escape his work). He sighs and silently debates if Barbatos's lecture would be worth ignoring his work for the time being. Diavolo glances back at the bathroom door before picking up his pen - it's not like he had anything else to do while he waited.

    He's almost finished with his paperwork - actively in the process of signing the last document - when he's startled by a unusually loud "FUCK" from the bathroom. Diavolo spares only a half a second to frown in annoyance at the smeared lettering before setting the pen down and getting up.

    "MC? Are you-?" he starts as he approaches the door. He strains his ears to listen, hearing movement from inside and more importantly your grumbles of irritation. "MC?" he calls again, waiting by the shut door, concern worming its way into his expression. You don't answer, but he can still hear you moving.

     Carefully he turns the door handle and slowly opens the door just enough so that he can look in and see what's happened.  He sucks in a soft breath. You're completely naked, fiddling with a band-aid, a small stream of blood running down your leg. You must've nicked yourself while shaving, and as his eyes trace the blood, it looks to be around your knee (an annoying and troublesome area if one's not careful, or so he's been told). His eyes continue to travel past the nick to rake over the rest of your nude form. 

    And Diavolo has to bite his lip to stop himself from letting out a hot and noisy breath. You're gorgeous, absolutely stunning, drop dead beautiful - he could on. Every part of you is simply perfect. His trance of admiration is broken when you move again, having finished applying the band-aid. Carefully, and quietly, he closes the door letting out the breath he was holding. There's no way either of you are sleeping tonight.

—

Barbatos

    He gives a little hum to acknowledge you, but says nothing. It's a bit odd to see Barbatos of all people casually reclining in a chair with a book, but it's kinda cute (and an odd weight off your shoulders that the man does actually know how to relax).  You turn and make your way to the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you.

    Barbatos lets his eyes follow you as you walk to the bathroom, watching you go. His eyes narrow slightly - he expected your arms to be fuller...were you forgetting something? He glances over to your bed to find that you had forgotten to bring your sleepwear. He smiles softly, how cute of you.

    Barbatos sets his book down before getting up and carefully collects your clothes to bring to you. He knocks gently on the door and then opens it. It's a force of habit really, he truly didn't mean to intrude and walk in on you half naked.

     You hold each other's gaze for several long seconds, your hands behind your back holding the clasps of your bra. He simply stands in the entrance of the room, one hand holding your sleepwear, the other on the door knob. 

    He clears his throat softly, "You forgot these." Barbatos sets your clothes on the counter before quietly excusing himself.

—

Simeon

    He smiles as he watches you disappear into the bathroom. His smile dips into a slight frown when he realizes that he's not sure what to do now that you're busy. Should he read? His eyes dart to his bag. Or maybe he should work on his manuscript - he had been hoping to be able to work on it at some point during this trip and now seemed as good of a time as any, right?

     After almost twenty minutes of struggling to do anything writing related Simeon decides that it would be best to call it a night. He carefully put his manuscript away and makes his way over to the bed. He picked up the top item of clothing that he had set out for himself earlier, only to realize that it wasn't his - it was your's. He glances back towards the bathroom and then the shirt he had unfolded. You must've grabbed the wrong set of sleepwear by accident.

     Ever the gentleman, Simeon refoldes the shirt and picks up the stack of clothing, making his way to the bathroom. Even through the door, he can hear you softly singing along. He doubts that you can hear him, but he still knocks anyways, and isn't surprised when you don't answer.

    Gently he opens the door, his gaze downwards. He peeks up, looking at the counter to see where you had set down the clothes you took. He groans internally when he sees that they're almost right at the farthest end; he had hoped to just be able to quickly swap them out and not disturb you. 

    He sighs and steps in, "Um, excuse me, (MC). I don't mean to bother you, but it seems you accidentally grabbed my clothes instead of your's."  You look over to him, gently jolted out of your thoughts. You can't help but smile at Simeon; he keeps his gaze down and is quick with the exchange.

    "Oh, I'm sorry."

     "It's alright. Enjoy the rest of your shower," and with that, he gracefully leaves, his ears a soft pink.

—

Solomon

     He smiles and laughs a little to himself as he watches you leave towards the bathroom. He waits till he hears the door close before returning his attention to the small set up of magical equipment and knick-knacks. As he starts to tinker, he hears the soft noise of the shower and your music. He hums along softly as he works.

    Almost half an hour later Solomon sets down his tools and stretches in the chair before getting up. He makes his way to the bathroom, lost in thought about his recent project. It was being difficult and not quite working how he wanted it to.

    ...maybe a shower would help clear his thoughts. 

   He opens the door to the bath and casual walks in, pushing the door closed with his foot. He grabs his belt to start undoing it when a voice calls his name.

     "Solomon?! What are you doing?!"

     He looks up and over to the shower, to see you. Already naked, in the shower, and in the middle of washing your hair. He tries to hold your gaze, but his eyes falter and flicker down to the rest of your form for a second. He had forgotten you were in here.

    He laughs, thoroughly embarrassed for the first time in a while and brings his hands up to rub at his shoulder in an apologetic gesture, "S-Sorry, sorry. I...I uh...forgot you were in here..."

    "Where else would I be?! Now get out! Shoo!"

     Solomon doesn't need to be told twice.