#talking this all through i sound so fucking busy

[v1x3n]

SNAP! ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - fluff, angst - panic attack, trauma, flinching.

─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─

There's a sudden knock on the door to your room, your body dry and freshly washed, the minty smell from the soap bar fills your nostrils whilst you slump on the hospital bed. Curled in a way that was uncomfortable but it wasn't hurting any wounds so that would have to do.

The knock is followed by the door opening wide, revealing a man who you recognise, a man named Logan. The cheery fellow bounces into the room, suddenly the dingy lights seem brighter. "how's my favourite girl?" the man smiles while trotting inside, then closing the door behind him. "The nurse told me t' not bother ya sooo here I am!" he announces, smirking when you peer up at him. Your permanent frown slightly moves upwards when you see the goofy yet devious grin on his face.

Without a reply he sits down on the wooden chair placed by your bed, "you're looking better! my wounds are barely healing!" you wonder what had happened to him for a moment but then you remember that one of the first times he snook into your room, he rambled on for almost an hour. Telling you that he had been shot whilst on a mission, twice in the stomach. Luckily he survived. He smiles as he stretches out his hand, groaning, "I'm glad you're okay," he says, his voice filled with emotion.

A sigh falls from his lips when you sit up, "saw some big beefy guy leave your room before," john, he's obviously talking about john. "Looked real pissed off." Logan mumbles under his breath when he looks to the side. Fucking twat, he was pissed off? He doesn't deserve to be pissed off. "Ya know him?" He looks towards you for an answer. But you two both knew you weren't going to verbally say anything. You nodded hesitantly.

"Ya friends?" the man questions, this time it wasn't so hesitant. "No." You firmly said. Logan thought this was the first time you had spoken to him, it clearly must've been a trigger or something, "he is NOT my friend." Reaffirming your statement, pure rage boils through you at even thinking about being his friend. He lost that fucking privilege. "huh."

There's a silence that lingers in the air. The wet droplets from your freshly washed hair drips down, sending shivers down through your body. "Well, at least you have people visiting. My family is too busy t' visit. Or they just divnt wanna." he mutters the last part, "id kill for anyone t' visit."

"You know you get a lot of people lining outa your door? I can barely get through mine cause these bulky men will always be there." What? You questioned internally. "Ya friends with them?" you probably knew who he was talking about, it was probably the other knobheads that harmed you. None of them had really spoken to you since you arrived, john would sit down on the chair that Logan was currently sitting on sometimes, you two wouldnt talk though. Youd rather kill yourself than utter a single word to him.

"none of them are my friends, " gruffly talking again. Your throat kinda hurt so the sounds came out raspier than you had wanted them to. "hmm! Anywho! You wanna play some cards with me? I knowww.... Snap?" Then he puts on a dumb little smile.

After rolling your eyes at him, you nod. Magically he pulls out a card deck. Placing them on the blanket covering you. Once splitting the deck into two and passes you a half. Logan puts a card down gently on the blanket, not wanting to put it down too hard and hurt you. He didn't quite know what had happened to you but by the looks of it it was bad. You had nurses in all the time, your body was wrapped in bandages and by the looks of it, you only had 8 fingers.

"6 of clubs!" he announces. You place down a random card, 4 of hearts.

After a few rounds, you had won. For him having a deck of cards and wanting to play snap, he wasn't that good at it. A small smirk rises on your face, looking down at your massive stack whilst he had no cards left. "Well, well done." He grumbles with a mocking pout.

Once nodding you give him half your cards and he whacks them across the bed. Scattering the cards around, you gasp. Laughing, he observes the stunned look on your face before you shuffle the cards and half them. Dividing them into two halves, again making sure you both have a half each.

The word snap was yelled out from Logan's lips as he finally got ahead of you and slammed his callosed hand downwards onto the 2 of diamonds. When you flinch, he felt the weight of his face drop. "fuck, I'm sorry-" the look on your face could only be described as panicked, scared and fearful.

Suddenly a loud ringing blinds your ears. Your breathing grows. You take sharp and quick breaths when he looks towards you. You don't know why you panicked so much over something so stupid but then again - you do. "oh god I'm sorry!"

Logan's heart sank as he watched you struggle to catch your breath. He quickly slid closer, his voice gentle, "Hey- fuck- it's okay. I'm right here." He hesitated, unsure whether to reach out physically, but instead whispered, "Just breathe with me, nice and slow," trying to guide you back to calmness. But unfortunately that didn't help. You flinch back once more and shuffle under the blanket. The sounds of the room grew louder, the beeping of the machines sound over Logan's - trying to be - comforting voice. Your breath caught up once more. Your breathing is loud and fast. "it's okay-"

He gets cut off when a nurse comes into the room. She quickly rushes to you and all you see is almost a blur when your eyes prick with water. Distant yelling and you see the obscured bodies rush into the room, the nurse beside you and mumbling nonsense as the blob you think is Logan leaves. 

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

masterlist

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,”

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[heartinhyacinth]

Ahh this has nuzzled its way into my brain

Now I’m imagining that they’re sentient like the statues and remain that way for the same reasons—Xie Lian doesn’t know how to make it stop and it’ll fade eventually anyway, so they just let it be.

Two or so days later, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, and Pei Ming come over to discuss some matters, and Xie Lian, profusely embarrassed, briefly explains, “you see, it’s like the…statue incident haha…”

While Feng Xin and Mu Qing understand immediately, Pei Ming asks for clarification, but Mu Qing turns bright red and declares that they’re not talking about this. Xie Lian agrees. Hua Cheng is snickering quietly in the corner, lounging on the bed with an arm draped over his knee as he leans against the wall behind him and lazily brushes off the cover that repeatedly tries to tuck him in.

They move on and start discussing business, until half way through when Xie Lian seems to have stopped listening, instead staring anxiously at the broom that’s sweeping towards Feng Xin. Hua Cheng is also staring at the broom, except his expression leans on excited anticipation, a mischievous grin beginning to form. Mu Qing notices first and calls them out on not paying attention.

Xie Lian apologizes, but his eyes remain on the broom, “I am, I am! It’s just…” He pauses and takes a wary step towards Feng Xin, hands outstretched cautiously like he’s trying to herd a snappy dog. Xie Lian hesitates, “you’re…um…you’re in the broom’s way…”

Feng Xin, predictably, rages. “I’m- I’m in the broom’s way?! It’s a fucking broom!”

Xie Lian knows how it sounds, but he and Hua Cheng learned the hard way what exactly happens when you’re in the broom’s path while it’s trying to clean. They could have just tossed it out after, but it’s working so hard and it really just wants to help. “I know, I know, it’s just that it…has a bit of a temperament issue haha, you might want to…”

Feng Xin merely scoffs and squares his feet, pride as stubborn as ever. Seconds later, the broom swiftly floats up, meeting his eye level. Feng Xin glares at it suspiciously, and then it flips and starts wacking him on the head, the shoulders, the face. It still looks like it’s sweeping, just vertically now.

Feng Xin is flailing about, screaming and cursing. It’s not an ordinary broom—not just because it’s sentient, but because it was born from Xie Lian. The broom hits hard. Hua Cheng is now sitting up straight to get a full view of the live entertainment, delighted at getting the outcome he was so clearly hoping for. Mu Qing and Pei Ming are trying to avoid Feng Xin’s flying fists while laughing so hard they nearly lose balance trying to do both at once. Xie Lian is trying to calm the broom and talk it down, while also scolding Feng Xin because he shouldn’t have provoked it. It finally calms only once Feng Xin is in the other corner of the shrine, far out of its sweeping path.

“Bravo—nice!” Hua Cheng claps his hands and then snickers, “next, why don’t you see what happens when you piss off the cooking pot”. Pei Ming, who was standing a few inches from the stove, glances at the pot of steaming purple…whatever it is, then quickly gives a wide berth.

As they go to leave, they announce that next time they’ll just talk outside. Xie Lian chuckles nervously and they all follow his line of sight as his eyes drift towards…the ax.

And they thought paradise manor was the house of horrors between hualian’s homes…

//I’m fairly new to tumblr and don’t rly know the etiquette here (or social rules in general if I’m being honest) so I hope this is alright??//

Obsessed with the idea of Xie Lian getting his spiritual powers back and not really using them outside of like subconscious actions. Like in a fight he spent 800 years just straight up throwing hands so it doesn’t really occur to him to use it. But because he’s literally stuffed full of spiritual energy so it just results in Puqi Shrine becoming the fairies house in Sleeping Beauty. Like there’s a pot stirring itself while truly toxic ingredients are added to a soup. The floor is being sweeped by a broken broom. The laundry is being done automatically meaning all his white robes are now a faint pink. Hua Cheng is sitting in the bed grinning fondly at the chaos around him. Meanwhile Xie Lian is just sitting outside sorting out his junk piles to see if he can find the pretty comb he wanted to give his husband and thinking of the chores he has to do today because they didn’t leave the bed until noon.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - pt. five - I know the end

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You didn’t talk to Rafe until Wednesday when he texted you before your shift. 

R: can’t wait to see you, pretty girl :) 

Y: me too <3

You wanted to tell him everything so badly, about JJ showing up and everything you went through with him, but you couldn’t do that over the phone. There was no telling what he'd do when he found out. So you waited. You got to the Club before him on Wednesday, clocking in and tending to your tables, which were already full. It was going to be a busy night and usually you would welcome that, it helped pass the time. But, not today. Today, all you wanted was to talk to Rafael. 

You were busy with one of your tables when he walked in. He admired the black cocktail uniform that clung to your body and the way your hair hung in its low ponytail. He felt lucky to know you, to get to watch as you interacted with your regular customers, always kind, no matter the circumstances. You didn’t do it because you had to, you did it because that’s just who you were. You flirted with your eyes as you spotted him and he returned it, a small smile lacing his features. It was thirty minutes before you could get away from your tables due to the dinner rush, but Rafe made a point to stay at the bar until he got a chance to speak to you. Even though looking at you was always enough, he wanted to hear your sweet voice in his ears. 

“Rafael.” 

You whispered into his ear, blowing in it, as you came up behind him. It sent shivers down his spine. 

“Hey, pretty girl.” 

He replied with a smile on his face, finally hearing that voice, that sound he had been craving. You slowly made your way behind the bar so you could stand in front of him and look at his handsome face. Rafe and handsome have always been synonymous words in your brain, but he didn’t need to know that. You quickly got to work, making a drink. A Tequila sunrise. It was your favorite to make, mostly because of how pretty the hues of orange and pink were, hence its name. You sat it in front of Rafe. 

“I didn’t order this-”

“It’s on the house.” 

You replied, winking at him. 

“Well what is it? It looks girly.” 

He chuckled. 

“It’s my favorite. Just try it.” 

You giggled at him and he sipped it slowly. His face shriveled up as the familiar taste of way too much tequila hit his lips. 

“Jesus, Y/n, who taught you how to mix drinks? This is awful.” 

His comment made you chuckle heartily. 

“That would be you, Rafael.” 

He grinned cheekily as he recalled the first time he asked you to make him a margarita, which you failed miserably at, prompting him to teach you how. You had never really mastered the skill of mixing drinks, but he pretended you were okay at it to appease you. Rafe was brought out of his thoughts as he watched your body tense up. He wondered if he had said or did the wrong thing and then he followed your eyes, as they landed on JJ who was across the room with Kiara, sitting in your section. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”

You whispered, hoping Rafe wouldn’t hear you. He reached out, grazing your hand with his fingertips as you vigorously wiped down the wood of the bar. 

“You want me to beat him up, again?” 

Rafe questioned innocently and you chuckled. 

“No, he’s not worth it.” 

“He is if you’re upset.” 

Rafe stated, matter-of-factly.

“It’s not that, it’s just he knows this is my section and he sat in it on purpose. They just want to torture me like it’s not bad enough he slept with my best friend.”

The sadness that laced your voice made Rafe’s chest tight. 

“Go take care of your tables and I’ll be right here the whole time. You just put your hand behind your back and ball up a fist if you need me, okay?” 

You nodded, thankful Rafe chose today of all days to be here. You slowly but surely made your way from behind the bar and headed to the Carrera’s table. 

“Hey guys! How are you?” 

The Carerra’s faces lit up at seeing you. They had no idea why you hadn’t been coming around or the way their daughter had betrayed you. It wasn’t their fault she was a bitch and you weren’t going to punish them for it. 

“Hey, sweet girl! We miss you. Where have you been?” 

Kiara’s mom asked. She was an angel and always had been and you loved her. 

“Just working.”

You gave your ex-best friend’s parents a tight lipped smile. Kiara’s eyes were apologetic even though she had never said she was sorry for what she had done. 

“Well, we miss you. You should come see us soon!” 

Mr. Carerra spoke up. 

“I will. So what can I get you guys?” 

“JJ and I will have two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries to share.” 

Kiara spoke with a cheeky smile, flaunting the consolation prize of her betrayal, a piece of shit pogue boy who is going nowhere. You had never had a problem with the Pogues until you had become one and they all betrayed you by covering up JJ’s infidelity. The Pogues were poison, just like Rafe had warned you all those years ago. 

“I’m gonna hit the head.” 

JJ muttered, surely feeling awkward about Kiara’s incessant need to be a show off. She wasn’t always this awful and you weren’t sure when she had taken a turn for the worst. 

“What about you, Mike?”

You questioned Mr. Carerra. 

“I’ll take the 15 oz ribeye. Medium rare with potatoes and green beans.” 

“Yes, sir. That sounds amazing!” 

You reply with faux enthusiasm.

“You’ll have to pull up a chair with us and grab a bite to eat.” 

He spoke, his kind gesture making your heart melt. 

“I definitely will if I can go on my break soon.” 

You smiled at him. 

“And for you, Anna?” 

You questioned Kiara’s mother. 

“I’ll do the chef salad with ranch, dear. I’d also love a small side of the mac and cheese.” 

She smiled softly, you missed the warmth that you felt when she smiled at you.

“You got it, I’ll be right back with the food. Can I get you guys anything to drink?” 

You asked.

“Just make sweet tea for all of us, sweetheart.” 

Anna spoke kindly and you nodded. 

Rafe watched as you made your way back to the kitchen to make their drinks and put the order in. After a few minutes he began to get a little worried, his radar for you always on high alert. For some reason it was taking you a long time to come back to him and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. That’s when he saw it, JJ Maybank had you cornered in the hallway of the dining room. He stayed back though, knowing you’d give him your signal if you needed help. Rafe was always very protective of you but he always tried to let you fight your own battles. Mostly because once when he defended you in the third grade by beating up the boy who was teasing you, you kicked him in the balls and let him know that you were your own hero. That was the day he realized he loved you. He smiled at the memory of your pigtails and the redness of your cheeks. Then, suddenly, Rafe was brought out of his thoughts at hearing bits and pieces of the venomous words JJ was speaking to you and he sprung into action as he saw your fist balled up behind your back. He made his way over to you, half-running, his protective nature overcoming his logical thinking. 

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” 

He watched you as you visibly relaxed under his presence, knowing there was no way JJ could hurt you in Rafe’s presence. 

“Hey, Rafey-” 

You were cut off by JJ’s sneer. 

“Everything was perfectly fine until you fucking interrupted our conversation.” 

JJ spat in Rafe's direction.

“I clearly wasn’t asking you douchebag, I was asking her.” 

Rafe responded nonchalantly. You could feel the anger emanating from him, his chest warm on your back, but he was holding back. You knew he was doing it for you. If that didn't prove he wasn't the same rafe you used to know, you didn't know what did.

“Right and here I was thinking you were calling me sweetheart.” 

JJ spoke sarcastically. His sarcasm you used to find endearing, charming even, and now, it just made him more of a dick.

“What a shame JJ. Are you regretting losing my girl, that’s why you got her cornered in a dark hallway. Is Kie not enough for you?” 

And - there it was. Rafe’s tone was laced with danger and he willed JJ to use his words correctly before he killed him with his bare hands. 

“Your girl?! I’m not regretting anything if you must fucking know.” 

JJ spat, almost unable to control his emotions.

“I mean, no judgment at all dude, she’s easily the best girl on this island.” 

Rafe gave him a wink. He was a cocky little bastard when he wanted to be.

“Oh, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Haven’t you had every girl on the island?” 

JJ questioned. He was a real asshole when he wanted to be.

“Could say the same to you, you know since you're passing your dick around like it’s the community pool.” 

Rafe spit back.

“Rafael-”

You spoke softly, feeling the vibration of your glucose monitor go off. You didn’t feel right, something was wrong. You placed your hand limply around his bicep, urging him to back off and call it a day. 

“Rafael? Who the fuck is Rafael and why are you touching him like that?” 

JJ questioned, confusedly. 

“That would be me, big guy.” 

Rafe muttered, raising his two fingers like attendance was being taken in homeroom. 

“I-”

“You know what, if you must know, it’s none of your business how she touches me or how often she uses a nickname with me or how many times she’s kissed me.” 

Rafe growled.

“How many times she what-” 

The hurt and jealousy that laced JJ’s eyes was something you’d never seen before.

“Joseph-” 

You whispered Rafe’s middle name, which got his attention. You never called him Joseph, ever, and when he looked into your eyes he knew something was wrong. It clicked in his brain too late, as he felt you loosen your grip from his arm and he watched in horror as you hit the ground. Your head bounced off the carpet and you started convulsing violently. 

“Angel! No! No, no, no, no, no.” 

Rafe’s panicked voice echoed through the club as he yelled. 

“Turn her on her side! She’s having a diabetic seizure!” 

JJ interjected, yelling as he got down rolling you onto your side while Rafe stabilized your head. 

“JJ, call 911!” 

Rafe screeched.

“I’m on it!” 

He yelled as he ran to grab his phone from the table, meeting Kiara’s eyes as he ran quickly back to you and Rafe. 

“It’s okay, sweet, baby girl. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here.” 

Rafe whispered as he counted the seconds until your body stopped convulsing. He was careful with your head, scared he’d hurt you or that you would have brain damage when you woke up. Kiara had followed JJ back to Rafe, curious as to why her boyfriend was so distressed. 

“J-”

Her voice faltered as she caught your unconscious form on the carpet of the country club. 

“What the fuck is this? Why are you helping her?!” 

She yelled in JJ’s direction, confusion and hurt, lacing her tone. 

“Kie-, please tell me you’re not so insecure that you care that he’s trying to help me save your best friend from dying right now.” 

Rafe growled in her direction and she made her way back to the table in tears. The ambulance got there quickly and immediately administered insulin and oxygen, which seemed to bring your vitals up. Rafe hopped in the back with you, not caring about leaving his truck at the club. He’d uber to get it later, once he knew you were okay. 

-

When you started to stir, the first thing you noticed was the smell of sterilization and the weight of something pricking the hand of your skin. You were in the hospital. Shit. Willing yourself to pry your eyes open, you slowly blinked, taking in a tall figure, reading a book beside you, one of his hands in yours. You coughed, your throat and mouth extremely dry. His blue eyes met yours and you registered who it was. Rafael. 

He stood up, making his way closer to you, standing over your head, in your line of vision. Rafe’s hands cupped your cheeks and he placed a kiss on your forehead before he spoke. 

“Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?” 

You tried to speak but your mouth was dry and then it dawned on you, your dad was going to kill you. You tried to sit up, which was a huge mistake as the movement shook your head a little too hard. Rafe pushed you back down by your shoulders. 

“Easy, Tiger.” 

He spoke softly, bringing a cup of water with a straw up to your lips, as he sat in front of you on the bed. You swallowed vigorously, like it was the first cup of water you’d had in ten years. 

“Slow down, baby.” 

He whispered in a sweet tone. You made eye contact with him after you decided you had enough of the beverage. 

“Rafe, what happened?” 

You questioned, confusedly.

“Your pump stopped working and you had a seizure from not getting your insulin.” 

You nodded your head in response, shock rittling your senses at his words. It shouldn’t have surprised you after how many times it had happened, but it did and it hurt your feelings every single one. 

“Will you lay with me?” 

You asked, as sweet as could be and he couldn't deny you.

“Of course, sweet girl.” 

Rafe crawled into the bed next to you, letting you cuddle into him and lay your head on his chest. His heartbeat brought you solace. He stroked your hair gently, his fingertips barely grazing the strands, and placed a kiss on your bandaged forehead. You had a concussion and some stitches from where you hit your head on the floor and he was as careful as possible when he placed the kiss, scared he’d hurt you. 

“Rafael, thank you for taking care of me and for being here.” 

You praised.

“Anything for you, baby. I’m always going to be here. You can count on that.” 

He smiled into your hairline, continuing to stroke it and you felt immense peace. You couldn’t tell what had changed or why, but you believed him with every fiber of your being. 

-

The next time you woke up, you were in Rafe’s arms, his soft snores infiltrating your ears and the aroma of the hospital room making its way into your nostrils. He had been at your beck and call for the last three days and he was tired, he needed the rest. You shifted your body, though careful not to move too quickly, afraid you’d wake him. Looking up at his sweet face, you traced your fingers down the bridge of his nose. How could one person be this perfect? You pondered. It was more than his chiseled jaw that you had always admired or his tan skin, he had begun to show you that he was a good man and that’s something you hadn’t seen in him in a long time, maybe ever. It made you love him in a way that you never had. A soft knock on the door took you out of your thoughts and you were praying to God that whoever it was wouldn’t wake up the giant man sleeping soundly next to you. Then, you saw brown hair with highlights peek through the crack of the door and you realized it was Topper. He peeked his head all the way through the door, and a bright smile littered his face. Kelce followed his lead, as he knocked softly again, making sure it was okay to come through the threshold of the hospital room. 

“Knock, knock.” 

He whispered and was surprised when he was met with your eyes instead of Rafe’s. 

“Shh.” 

You spoke, motioning your pointer finger to your lips in an attempt to keep him quiet. Seeing Rafe so still and soft, in an almost childlike state while sleeping was enough to make you swoon and you wanted him to stay this way as long as possible. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one resting?” 

Topper teased as he brought a balloon that read “it’s a girl!” to your bedside. It made you giggle. 

“Sorry, they ran out of “Sorry you have diabetes” balloons.” 

Kelce quipped. Your giggle was now a full-fledged belly laugh. "These two idiots!", you thought. As your laugh erupted from your stomach, Rafe began to stir, shifting his weight in the small bed. You lifted your hand, running your fingertips softly through the hair that was now hanging in his face. He nestled his face into your shoulder, curling his long legs into his stomach. There’s no way he’s comfortable, you thought. But you also didn’t have the heart to wake him. 

“I want him to sleep as long as possible, he’s been up for days worrying about me.” 

You spoke flatly and the boys understood the sentiment of your words. They cared deeply for both of you. 

“When are they saying you’ll be able to go home?” 

Kelce probed, wanting you to feel as normal as possible as soon as possible. 

“This afternoon, I think.” 

He placed his hand on your shoulder. 

“That’s good, pretty girl. You know he’s not going to leave your side, right?” 

You playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, the same way you two were the last time.” 

You joked.

“The last time you almost died. This isn’t that.” 

Topper’s tone was cold and he didn’t mean it to be, but he didn’t understand your calm, cool, and collected nature when it came to such traumatic events with your health. The room grew eerily silent and you were the first to break it. 

“Let’s not talk about that in front of Rafe, okay?” 

Both boys simply nodded their heads in response, understanding of your wishes. Topper and Kelce stayed for about an hour before deciding to go. Rafe stirred awake not long after they had departed from the room.

“Pretty girl. What time is it?” 

He asked, his eyes fluttering open to see yours staring up at him. His voice was gruff and sexy like only boys can be when they’ve first woken up.

“Well, good morning handsome. It’s 1pm.” 

You responded with a light chuckle.

“Gosh, How long have I been asleep?” 

“Since last night around 11.” 

He nodded his head, his still sleepy response was noted by you. 

“Did someone come to visit or did I dream about that?” 

You giggled, placing your hand on his cheek softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth underneath his eye. 

“It wasn't a dream, Topper and Kelce were here this morning.” 

You whispered sweetly, bringing your hands up to his hair, stroking lightly. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he asked the question.

“You needed the sleep, Rafael. You’ve been awake, worrying about me for the last three days and that won’t do either of us any good.” 

He brought your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger, wanting your eyes to meet his, and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“It’s my job to worry about you.” 

-

You were discharged from the hospital not long after Rafe had woken up, which you kind of despised, you wished he would’ve stayed asleep and gotten as much rest as he needed. The past few days had taken a toll on him and they would have taken a toll on anybody. No one wakes up and expects the girl they love to have a seizure and be put in the hospital. He had never seen you this fragile and that thought alone ate him alive. He hated that he couldn’t do anything to protect you from this. This wasn’t some mouthy pogue or a handsy touron he could punch out and call it a day, nestling you safely into his arms after disposing of the threat. This was an illness, a disease, that no one had control over, that no one could predict and even the best safety measures couldn’t protect you from a failing insulin pump. That part of it destroyed him. But the part of it that didn’t was seeing you be strong through all of it. You made jokes at your own expense, which was how you coped. You had done that for years with a lot of things. You did it the day you got your braces on when you were afraid of how Rafe would perceive your new appearance. Spoiler alert: he thought you were beautiful. You did it when your grandma died and when your parents fought and even when JJ cheated on you. The only thing you had never done it about was Rafe. His absence was the only thing that hurt too bad to joke about. He admired the fact that you could joke about your illness and how annoyed you got when he fussed over you, especially today, as he was driving you to his house from the hospital. When they had wheeled you out of the front doors of the hospital, Rafe gently lifted your body with his strong arms and placed you into the passenger seat of his truck. He made sure you were comfortable before lacing his hands through the seatbelt, stretching it across your body and buckling you in, the familiar click as the extender and the buckle met filtering through the car.  

“Rafe, I can buckle myself. My arms are in perfect working condition.” 

You scoffed, his incessant need to take care of you getting on your nerves. 

“I know you can. Just let me dote on you today, okay?” 

His voice was almost pleading. You gave him a reassuring nod, knowing that this is what he needed at the moment, even if you didn’t. You smiled, you loved this soft side of him, but eventually, it'd have to stop. Diabetes was something you’d been dealing with on your own for years. You didn’t need the hovering or the constant worry from your brown-haired, blue-eyed lover. You needed him to know you were strong and capable, not this weak damsel in distress he thought you were. You decided you would give it a day and have a conversation with him if it hadn’t stopped by the end of the week. As he made sure you were okay, he made his way to the driver’s side and started the truck, heading for Tannyhill. Your parents were in Thailand for business and couldn’t get back in time for you to be discharged, which you were thankful for. You didn’t need the wrath of your father right now, your brain and body still too tired from the trauma they endured. Rafe had told your mother you could stay at Tannyhill until they got home, which would be a week from today and he couldn’t help but be excited at having you this close for this long. You fell asleep on the ride home to Rafe’s, the slinging of gravel under his tires making you stir, as he pulled to the front of the house. He quickly got out and made his way to your side of the car, opening your door and unbuckling you, before lifting you in his arms once more and carrying you inside. The shift in your surroundings made you groan. 

“Mmmm.” 

You grunted out, Rafe’s lips turned up in a smile. 

“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay. We’re home. I’m gonna take you to bed.” 

He whispered in your ear. 

“Mmmm, Rafey.” 

You said it like his name was the yummiest thing your tongue had ever tasted, a sleepy smile plastered on your face. As he opened the door, you felt yourself wanting to fight, wanting to prove to him you could do it yourself, but your body was too tired to try and argue with the comforting embrace of the boy you loved. You took in the smell of him as you heard him telling his family not to talk above a whisper while making his way through the living room. He smelled like sea salt, whiskey, and expensive cologne - a familiar smell for many reasons, it reminded you of home, the island, the stupid pretentious parties, and the ocean you’d grown to love the sight of. However, it reminded you of home because he was stitched in every memory of you being in these places, in this atmosphere. The smell was bliss, the smell was Rafe. 

“Please if you talk to her or around her, talk in a whisper. She’s got a concussion and ten stitches on her forehead. If she’s in a room, the lights need to be off, at least until tomorrow.” 

Rafe whisper-yelled over your half-asleep form, to his family before walking up the stairs. 

“Don’t worry, son. We got it. We’ve dealt with a concussion before.” 

Ward giggled because his son had had six concussions in his football career, they knew very well how to take care of one, but Rafe’s protective nature shined through and allowed him to forget that. He loved that his son cared this deeply for another person, there was a time when he wondered if he ever would. 

Rafe slowly but surely carried you up the stairs to his bedroom, laying you down in his usual resting place, which was the comfiest place on the mattress. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. Luckily, you were dressed in cozy clothes so he didn’t have to wake you. Instead, he brought the blankets under your chin and slid in next to you, falling asleep fast as he clung to your small frame. 

-

When you woke the next morning, Rafe was no longer next to you, which made you curious, so you made your way out of bed and slowly peered down the hallway. There was no sign of him in the bathroom or any of the bedrooms upstairs. You peered eerily over the edge of the staircase banister, looking for any sign of him. 

“Rafael” 

You called out and he came barreling up the stairs from around the corner in the kitchen. You admired him in his domestic form, basketball shorts, t-shirt, and messy hair. A still sleepy smile danced across his face as he took in the sight of you. He hadn’t been awake very long. 

“Pretty girl, good morning.” 

He spoke with a smile, making his way up to you, and placing a kiss on your hairline. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” 

He questioned.

“I couldn’t find you” 

You brought your lips to a pout and it sent a shiver down his spine. He loved that you wanted to be so close to him. You were enamored by everything that he was and you couldn’t get enough. 

“You want some coffee? I made your favorite.” 

You were confused. How could he possibly know what your favorite coffee is? You had been not speaking for the last two years, there was no way he had made you the right thing.

“Which would be what?” 

You questioned, confusion lacing your face. 

“White chocolate mocha with ½ and ½ instead of milk and an extra shot of white chocolate.” 

“Rafe, how did you know?” 

“I’ve just paid attention and it helps that you’ve had the same coffee order since we were 13.” 

He joked and you gushed internally, your core became warm at his sentiment, leaving you flustered and on edge. 

“Rafael, that’s so sweet, thank you.” 

You whispered as you pulled him in for a tight hug. 

“Let’s go downstairs and get you that coffee.” 

He spoke sweetly and you followed him down the staircase. When you had made it to the kitchen, you noted that Rafe had all kinds of coffee and syrups lining the island, where he was topping your cup off with whipped cream. It was a surprise that Rafe was an actual coffee drinker, not a poser who orders the closest thing to a milkshake he can find at every coffee shop. Rafe pulled a barstool out for you to sit on from underneath the island and helped you onto it before sliding it close to the edge of the countertop. 

“Rafael, when did you become such a coffee whore?” 

You asked innocently, not realizing how funny the remark was. Rafe let out a belly laugh. 

“Uh, my mom got me into drinking it right before she passed. It was something I clung to when she died. The warmth of a good cup of coffee reminds me of her hugs.” 

He spoke with a smile. 

“Well, now I feel like an asshole.” 

You muttered, a grimace on your face. 

“What do you mean? Why?” 

 “I thought you were going to have some douchey frat boy response. Like, you started drinking it to get a girl’s attention or something.” 

Rafe chuckled at you being so taken aback by him. 

“No, I’m not that guy anymore.” 

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that.” 

You mumbled what you thought was quietly, but evidently not quiet enough, as Rafe’s eyes went wide at your confession. 

“Let me take you on a date today.” 

He spoke softly, timidness dancing across his body language. You smiled at him brightly and when he looked at his feet, waiting for you to tell him no, you lifted his chin with your thumb and pointer finger. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” 

“Sorry-”

“No, I mean, don’t go to the bad place in your head. Everything’s fine, baby. I thought you’d never ask.” 

He smiled as widely as he could. 

“Okay, well let’s get some food in your stomach and then we’ll get ready and make a day out of it. Do you feel okay enough for that?” 

“Yeah, I feel fine. But, what do you mean? Where are you taking me?” 

You looked confused. You had never really been on a real date, JJ didn’t have very much money, which was never an issue for you. You didn’t mind paying for whatever the two of you did. But, even still he lacked romance and creativity. There was never a movie date or a day at the beach, just the two of you. It was all about the Pogues all the time and that was one of the many reasons you didn’t miss him. 

“That I cannot reveal yet, sweetheart.” 

He smiled cheekily and it made your heart warm. You were excited and you knew Rafe wasn’t going to disappoint. Rafe Cameron wasn’t known for romance, yet you believed he had something special up his sleeves. He made eggs, bacon, and toast with jelly, which was your favorite kind of breakfast. You appreciated how thoughtful he was. After you finished eating, he asked you to go get dressed and pack a bag. 

“Did you get enough to eat, sweetheart?” 

He questioned, always aware of the sugar demon that lived inside your bloodstream now. Apart from worrying about your sugar, he just wanted to make sure you were full, which you appreciated. 

“Yes, Rafael. I’m full.” 

You smiled in his direction, before hopping off the barstool and heading upstairs to take a shower, wanting to look your best for your date with him. 

“Do you mind picking out my clothes since I’m not allowed to know what we’re doing?” 

You questioned, turning around as you reached the bottom of the staircase, meeting his blue eyes that were boring into the back of your head already. 

“Absolutely, sweetheart. I’d love to.” 

He gave you a reassuring nod as you turned around and made your way up the staircase, smiling like an idiot over the fact that you caught him staring at you. As you reached the top of the stairs, you realized you were already winded and tired, an after effect of your recent health scare. You made your way into Rafe’s room, which had a connecting bathroom. You quickly grabbed your insulin and bath supplies, knowing you’d need to change your pump when you got out and made your way into the bathroom, where you stripped yourself of your clothes and turned on the water. You liked the water scalding hot, you always joked that you like to feel like you’re in the pits of hell until your shower is over and the cool air of the bathroom brushes up against your naked skin. You removed the old insulin pump, discarding it into the trash, and hopped in the shower. You didn’t waste much time, but you did let the hot water soothe your muscles for a bit before you washed your hair and body and it felt so good. When you were done, you exited the shower, grabbing Rafe’s towel from the drying rack and wrapping it around your body. You made your way into the bedroom, where you found a beautiful, white lace sundress with a note attached to it. 

A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl. Saw this downtown last week and it reminded me of you. What a perfect day to wear it, yeah? I packed your bag with all the necessary snacks and medicine and put a bathing suit in there for you too. The white one-piece you wore on the druthers, it’s my favorite.

X, 

Rafael

You audibly gasped at how thoughtful Rafe had been and there you were, smiling like an idiot in the middle of his bedroom. You put on your bra and underwear and called his name, wanting him to come to help you with applying a new insulin pump. Today was as good a day as any for him to learn how to do it. 

“Rafael!” 

You bellowed out his name and he came up the stairs quickly, you could hear his feet hitting each mahogany panel. He knocked softly, not wanting to disturb you if you weren’t decent. You slowly slid the dress up your legs, so he could only see your bra. 

“You can come in, I need your help.” 

He swung the door open at that, afraid you were sick or in trouble in some other way. His eyes landed on you, sitting on his bed, with the dress he had bought you covering your bottom half, nothing but your bra covering your top. 

“Woah.” 

He whispered, a smirk tracing his lips. 

“Easy, tiger. I need help with my pump. There’s no fire anywhere.” 

You giggled softly at him. He looked so afraid when he swung the door open.

“Okay, pretty girl, tell me what to do.” 

“I have everything ready. I just need you to plunge it into my skin, somewhere it won’t show in this dress.” 

“Is your stomach okay?” 

He questioned you, watching as you inserted the insulin into the pump and let it prime. As much as you wanted to tell him, no, to run, to scream, to hide - you couldn’t. Your stomach was the best place for the pump, but it was also a place you didn’t want Rafe to look at. Over the last two years, your stomach had become littered with scars from failed pump sites and it made you insecure about your body. This is why you stuck to one-piece bathing suits. 

“U-uh, yeah.” 

Rafe noticed the shift in your behavior and he didn’t take it lightly. 

“Hey, pretty girl, what’s the matter?” 

You stared down at him, as he was now rocking on the balls of his feet and squatted in front of you. 

“It’s just, my stomach, it isn’t pretty anymore, okay?”

“What do you mean? Everything about you is pretty.” 

“I have a lot of scars from my pump on my stomach. It’s probably better if I show you.” 

He nodded gingerly and you delicately pushed the dress down to your hips, revealing the fullness of your tiny waist and belly. The scars that littered it were discolored, some black, and brown, and the oldest ones were white. Some were longer and larger than the others. You swallowed thickly as you watched Rafe’s blue eyes take in the tattered skin and you let a tear fall from your eye. You hoped he didn’t notice, but he did. 

“Hey, this doesn’t change anything. Everybody has scars. It’s okay, baby.” 

“I’m ugly, Rafe.” 

“Believe me, darling, you are the furthest thing there ever was from ugly and a few scars won’t change my mind. I have scars too.” 

“Y-you do?” 

“Yeah, look, this is from that time you pushed me off my bike when we were seven. Remember I had all those stitches?” 

He asked, pointing to his face, which he had landed on when he fell. You chuckled to yourself. He had pissed you off so bad that day when he wouldn’t let you play with his spiderman action figures. 

“Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I was a bitch.” 

You laughed and Rafe wiped some of the tears off your face. 

“You’ve never been a bitch. I promise.” 

You sniffled and smiled at him, thankful for his kind words. 

“Everybody has scars, sweet girl. They make us who we are, they’re proof we’ve lived. You’ve just lived a lot of life.” 

You hugged him tightly, his fingers tracing the skin of your bare back. 

“Okay, pick a spot on my belly and stick it there.” 

“How’s here?” 

He asked, placing the pump close to your naval. 

“That’s great. Just hold it there until you hear the click.” 

He did as he was told, holding it until he heard the audible click of the needle going into your fragile skin. You grimaced. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

His brows furrowed in concern. 

“I’m okay, Rafael. It’s just the needle.” 

Your response seemed to soothe him enough because the next thing you knew his hands had traveled to your hips and he began helping you pull the dress up over your middle and placed the straps securely on your shoulders. He turned you around to look in the mirror. 

“How’s that, pretty girl? Do you like it?” 

“I love it, Rafe. Thank you so much.” 

-

Shortly after your bedroom excursion, you and Rafe were ready to go, you still clueless as to where he was taking you or what your date entailed. He led you outside to his truck, grabbing the bag he had packed for you and placing it on the backseat floorboard. When he opened the back passenger door, you noticed there was a picnic basket with pink tulips hanging out the side of it. They were your favorite flower, which Rafe definitely knew. You smirked at this small detail. So far he was blowing your expectations out of the water, which you had no doubt he would. He helped you into the passenger seat, buckling you yet again. You were starting to think this had less to do with your fragility and more to do with the fact that he just liked doing it. 

You and Rafe quickly arrived downtown, walking around all your favorite boutiques and shops. As you walked down the cobblestone streets of Kildare, Rafe reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You could’ve sworn you had died and gone to heaven. You had loved this boy as long as you could remember and even your wildest of fantasies would’ve never given you the idea he’d ever want you like this. You watched the ground as you walked, eyes on your feet and you felt his eyes boring a hole into the side of your head. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know?” 

You spoke freely, letting out a giggle and Rafe rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I just wanted to look at you.” 

He spoke softly. 

“Why?” 

“Cause you’re beautiful.” 

He spoke with more fire this time, saying the words boldly, with purpose. He wasn’t trying to make a move, or get you to sleep with him, he just needed you to know and you sensed that he meant it. 

“You make me feel good, Rafe.” 

��Well, that’s kinda the whole point of this. If I’m ever not making you feel good, then that’s when we should reevaluate what we’re doing.” 

You smiled at him and nodded, knowing he needed you to understand what he was saying, that’d you tell him if ever wasn’t making you feel good. 

“You want some ice cream, beautiful?” 

Your face lit up and Rafe giggled. You were always in the mood for ice cream, something he noted when you were thirteen. Every time he has ever asked if you wanted ice cream, your answer has been yes. 

“You know I do.” 

You snorted at his knowledge of you, at his ability to read you like a book. He nodded and you made your way into the ice cream shop. Rafe made you sit at a table while he ordered and when he brought you the ice cream you beamed up at him. 

“Mint chocolate chip, you remembered!” 

You exclaimed. It was like Rafe’s thoughts were consumed by you, it seemed he knew everything there was to know about you. 

“I remember everything about you, honey.” 

You blushed at his remark. You were thankful for this day with him. It was simple and domestic and freeing and you were just thankful. 

“This has been fun, Rafael. Thank you.” 

You smiled sweetly, meeting his blue eyes with yours, blushing again. 

“You’re welcome, pretty girl. But, it’s not over yet. I have one more surprise for you.” 

“What else could you possibly have up your sleeve?” 

You questioned him with a belly laugh, thinking this sweet boy had already gone above and beyond for you. You both finished off your ice cream and Rafe led you back to the truck, following his routine of buckling you in before he made his way inside. He definitely liked doing it, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. 

The ride was quiet and after fifteen minutes, he pulled into the public beach parking lot. He helped you out of the vehicle once again, grabbing the picnic basket, along with your bag of necessities, and placing it on his shoulders. He carried that bag as if his life depended on it. Once you made it down to the sand, he laid out the white knitted blanket he had brought with him and instructed you to sit down, while he unpacked the picnic basket. 

“These are for you. I know they’re your favorite.” 

Rafe spoke matter-of-factly, pulling the pink tulips out of the basket and handing them to you. Your smile was giddy and you couldn’t contain yourself. You’d jump his bones right here if you knew you wouldn’t get arrested. 

“Rafe, these are so beautiful!” 

You exclaimed, joy written on your features. He loved that look on you. The joy. 

“I’m glad you like them.” 

He giggled and put his arm around you, placing his hand on the other side of your hip in the sand. 

“You just seem to know all my favorite things.” 

Blush infiltrated the pores of your cheeks. 

“It’s not hard if you pay attention.” 

His words meant more to you than anyone’s ever had before, but the truth of them stung. This is what love is supposed to feel like, to be like and now you know why you didn’t miss JJ. Because he wasn’t the one and Rafe was. Rafe’s next line of questioning brought you out of your head. 

“Are you hungry, sweet girl?” 

He questioned with soft eyes. 

“I could eat.” 

You replied, a soft smile on your lips. 

“PB & J or Turkey and Mayo?” 

He asked, pulling two sandwiches out of the basket. 

“PB & J.” 

You replied. 

He ever so slowly plated the sandwiches and put apple slices with caramel sauce beside them. 

“Here you go, m’lady.” 

“Rafe, this is so sweet.” 

You gushed, heart almost bursting at the seams for the effort he put into this. 

“Water or champagne?” 

His line of questioning continued.

“Depends, what are we celebrating?” 

“Just me, being here, with you.” 

“Champagne it is then.” 

Rafe took the two glasses out of the picnic basket, handing you yours to hold while he poured it. He looked up at your face, golden hour making the hues of orange, yellow, and pink dance across your face. He noticed something on your cheek, right near your lip - a scar, medium size, white in color, in a jagged line. His fingers traced over it as he finished pouring your beverage. You shied away from his touch. 

“I’m sorry, angel.” 

He looked defeated, afraid he had done the wrong thing. This perfect day, did he just fuck it up? He wondered. 

“It’s okay. No worries.” 

You smiled at him and leaned into him, placing your head on his shoulder. 

“Can you tell me what that’s from?” 

He asked. He needed to know at some point, you knew that. But, that didn’t mean the conversation would be easy or that he wouldn’t get angry. 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know, Rafe.” 

He was taken aback, what was so bad that you thought he wouldn’t want to know. He wanted to know about every scar that littered your body. 

“Believe me when I say this, I most certainly do.” 

You huffed, loudly.

“You promise you won’t get mad?” 

“I promise, angel.” 

Your vision clouded with unshed tears, you had never had to explain to him the abuse you face from JJ and it would never be easy to talk about. 

“I-it’s from JJ.” 

You let the words sit in the thick air between you and Rafe. 

“What do you mean it’s from JJ?” 

Rafe’s eyes were laced with bewilderment and confusion. 

“F-from the first t-time.” 

Your voice became shaky, weak. 

“The first time for what, y/n?” 

“The f-first time he punched me in the f-face.”

“What the fuck did you just say?! He punched you in the face?!” 

Rafe questioned, a fire in his eyes that you’d never seen before. 

“Y-you said you wouldn’t get mad.” 

Rafe looked up at you, tears falling freely down your face. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not mad, baby. Come here.” 

He reached out for you and lunged for him, clinging as tightly as you could to his middle, crying into his button-down. 

“Tell me what happened, angel. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’d never hurt you. I’d never dream of putting my hands on you, of hurting you.” 

He rocked you back and forth, peppering kisses into your hairline. Waiting until your breathing had become normal before he stopped, just sitting with his chin on top of your head. 

“He abused me the entire year we were together. It started when I told him I wasn’t ready to lose my virginity, that I was saving it for the right person.” 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” 

“The first time he hit me, I still had braces on my teeth. Cut right through my cheek, that’s what the scar is from. I had to get 7 stitches.” 

He didn’t say anything, mostly because he knew that there was nothing he could say to make it better. He just squeezed you tighter and wondered how the fuck he was going to kill JJ Maybank. 

“Listen, angel, I don’t want you working at the club with him.” 

Rafe’s tone revealed how uneasy he truly was.” 

“I know. The first day you came to see me at work, he showed up that night. Told me to remember who I belonged to. I haven’t felt safe without you there, ever since.” 

“Baby, let me talk to dad and see how serious he is about wanting you to come work for him.” 

“You’d do that?” 

You looked up at him, shocked he would help you find work elsewhere when he didn’t have to. It wasn’t his responsibility. 

“You have no idea the things I’d do for you, sweet girl.” 

The words were heavy and somehow you knew he meant every single one. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 12: world on fire

word count: 2,256

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Days would pass since Tommy's near brush with death and your ascent from the dark. At first, no one asked where you were, but as the week progressed, Arthur and John were the first to talk to Tommy about it. He could tell—not that his brothers were particularly good at hiding their emotions—that they wondered if you were alright. Finn, who still held onto the little stories you shared, resisted entering the bookshop because, in time, you had nothing to say. He voiced his concern to Tommy, but it would take him another few days to find himself outside the shop, wondering if you were inside.

He reached for the knob, and it jammed. The front door was locked, but Tommy wasn’t one to be deterred by locked doors. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, the sound sharp and commanding.

After a long pause, the door creaked open just enough for you to peer out, your expression immediately hardening.

“What do you want?”

Funny. Those were the first words he spoke to you when he sat across your desk so long ago, and now here he was again. Only this time, you were the one demanding an answer.

Tommy stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the small space. He looked around the place that you always hid away in, and in some part of his mind—the part that also craved solitude among the chaos—understood, and he wished that he had a sanctuary like this of his own.

When he finally looked at you, you avoided his eyes.

“You haven't been back to the betting house. Or the Garrison.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. You kept your demeanor cold, posture guarded, but he caught the flicker of something in your eyes—sadness, maybe, or frustration. Most likely with him.

“Well, now you know I'm alive,” you said. "Is that all?"

There it was—the uncomfortable silence. But now, you couldn't wait. The longer you waited, the longer he'd be standing in front of you.

Your jaw tightened. “Then I guess, you're just here to take up time.”

Tommy removed his hat and placed it on the counter, hoping to take up as much time to put together a delicate answer for you. “We have unfinished business.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting.

He took a step closer, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You said gave me my life for my tragedy.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but, still, you said nothing.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Tommy continued, his voice low. “And I realized something.”

Your breath hitched, though you masked it well. “Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He hated this—hated the vulnerability, the uncertainty—but he forced himself to push through.

“You’ve already walked away from me more than once,” he said finally. “And, every time, I let you because of the debt I owe you. I'd rather not make that mistake again—debt or no debt.”

Your posture stiffened, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve got a choice,” he replied, his voice turning sharp. “You can keep weighing everything I do—everything you do—by value. By exchange. A debt for a debt, only giving what is equally worth the other, hiding behind that cold front of yours. Or you can look at me. And tell me, at last, what the fuck it is you really want.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged.

You opened your mouth to speak but faltered again, your usual sharp wit replaced by something softer, more uncertain.

Tommy stepped closer, his gaze boring into yours. “I’m not asking for answers tonight. But think about it, y/n. Because one way or another, it will come out—with or without your willingness to say it out loud.”

He turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. As he stepped into the cool night air, Tommy allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

The chessboard had shifted.

Now, it was your move.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The door shut behind him with a soft click, but the sound felt deafening in the silence that followed. You stood frozen, your back still against the counter, arms crossed as though holding yourself together.

You hated how much you hung onto his words until they crept under your skin. You hated that he could say so little and still unravel your carefully constructed defenses.

Your hands clenched into fists. Even as you thought through it all, doubt crept in. You had seen something in his eyes tonight—the same look of fragility—something he probably didn’t even realize he’d let slip. Vulnerability. Maybe even fear.

Your breathing caught at the base of your throat as another thought surfaced, unbidden. It was true. Every time, you were the one who walked away, and next time, he wouldn't let you. The thought alone was daunting, and you spent the next minute convincing yourself that he meant it as a threat. It wasn't though, it was a precarious decision he made on his own. He wouldn't let you walk away again to leave him alone.

The realization sent a chill down your spine. Tommy Shelby wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean. If he’d decided you were worth chasing, worth fighting for, he wouldn’t stop. And if he did stop, that meant he was wrong—you weren't worth it. Both concepts raged on in your head. You wanted to be worth it, but was all of this worth it to you?

Your grip on control slipped for just a moment, and you slammed your hand against the counter in frustration.

Needing someone—it was a terrible feeling, to the point where, long ago, you decided you'd never let yourself need someone again. The anger you felt towards yourself was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the frustration you felt towards Tommy. He was pushing you for an answer you didn't have, or perhaps, it was one he knew you would keep denying.

Wanting someone—there was no line of logic that would make it any better.

Your thoughts spiraled, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. There were bigger things at play.

Why did I save him, you kept asking yourself, what possessed me to go there?

The tip about Tommy replayed in your mind. Something about it hadn’t sat right with you from the beginning, but there was no time to think it through. Why would someone risk passing on information like that? Why to you, specifically? That could have gone to anyone—any of the Blinders would have readily gone to help Tommy if he needed it. So, why did that information fall into your lap?

Kennedy—a wiry fellow with shifty eyes and a devious demeanor. He’d seemed so eager, almost too eager, to help. Back when he was Bedlam's bookie, he was much more naïve, but you offered him a way out, a way to stay out of the line of fire by giving information when Arthur sought it out. So, why would he come back—willingly come back to you?

Bingham.

The name hit you like a lightning bolt. It was suddenly so obvious, too obvious. Bingham set you up. The tip wasn’t to help Tommy. It was to bait you into action, to make you reveal yourself—to show that, now, you had something you couldn't afford to lose. It didn't matter that you told yourself this agreement with Tommy was transactional. A lost investment would stay lost. But to lose Tommy was something else entirely, and you never would have allowed that to way on your conscience if he'd been killed.

You walked straight into it. Bingham knew, once again, that you allowed yourself to care enough to risk your security.

You pushed away from the counter, your heart pounding so violently it sent aches through your veins. If Bingham was watching, if this was all part of some plan, then Tommy’s visit tonight might not have gone unnoticed.

Your jaw clenched as the anger burned through your skin. You’d been a fool to think you could outmaneuver someone like Bingham without consequences. All at once, it was crumbling down at your feet. You could blame Tommy all you wanted, but all of this came down to the decision you made.

You ran to your office, hastily pulling one of the drawers, and reloaded your pistol. If someone was going to act tonight, let them. All you knew was that this wouldn't end well.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arthur and John Shelby lingered in the shadows, the bookshop just within view. Tommy told them to follow him there, his expression unreadable as he gave the order. Others remained in the car, each more confused than the next.

“She won’t like it,” Arthur muttered, lighting a cigarette. "If she swings a bottle at my head—"

“She doesn’t have to like it,” Tommy replied, his voice cold. “Just make sure she’s not alone. Finn and I will be at the Garrison.”

"You really think something's going to happen?" John asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Tommy didn't explained himself further, but Arthur and John didn’t really need an answer. They’d seen the way Tommy looked at you, even if he refused to admit it. He’d do what he always did—protect what mattered to him, whether or not he said it out loud.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

You stayed behind the counter, eyes darting back and forth between the passing shadows on the street. When the burden finally felt too heavy, you pressed your palms against your eyes, suddenly feeling so foolish at your paranoia. Bingham was too smart, and he already knew where you were. Why wouldn't he show himself? What would turning you mad do for him in the end?

You paced between the shelves of books, revolver at your side. You had to do something to keep your mind preoccupied, or else you really would go crazy. The maddening effects of staying awake for so long would get you first, and the mania would hit later. You were no good to anyone without your mind, but dying was so much more terrifying.

You looked down to the floor just as a shadow passed over the window, cloaking your legs in darkness.

The shot rang loud, piercing the window and into your shoulder. The burn came quickly, the force of the bullet sending you back into one of the shelves. You fired towards the shadow, and the window shattered completely.

The crack of your gun echoed down the street, but the damage was already done. The scent of petrol filled your lungs as it cascaded into your shop through the open window.

The flicker of flames caught your eye, and you turned to see fire licking at the edges of the bookshop’s doorway. Before you could move, a sharp pain erupted in your side. Amidst all of it, you never felt the second shot—the bullet still deep inside.

Your vision blurred, but you held yourself steady against the shelves. Your arm ran cold with the dampness of blood soaking your sleeve.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

“Bloody hell,” Arthur muttered, tossing his cigarette aside when he saw the flames.

John moved quickly, his hand on his gun. He screamed your name, the sound desperately fighting the din of crackling paper and splintering wood.

The car emptied as the two of them rushed toward the bookshop, Arthur cursing under his breath. They reached you just as you stumbled out of the doorway, nearly collapsing on the street.

“Find Tommy—” John commanded to the others as he grabbed your arm to steady you. They scattered in the direction of the Garrison.

“Get her out of here,” Arthur barked, his voice rough with urgency.

You tried to protest, but the pain was overwhelming. You wanted to tell them that your things were on the second floor, but the smoke overtook the street. Before long, everything would be lost.

“We’ll handle it,” Arthur said firmly, shoving you toward John. “Go!”

John half-carried you to the relative safety of an alleyway, his grip firm but careful. “Stay here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You leaned against the wall, breaths shallow. You watched as Arthur disappeared into the chaos, his gun raised, his silhouette outlined by the glow of the flames.

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning paper and charred wood. The night was lit up with the flames of the bookshop, a chaotic dance of fire and shadows that seemed to mirror your own inner turmoil. Blood soaked through your coat, warm and sticky. You staggered, leaning heavily on the side of the car as you watched everything be swallowed by light.

Arthur appeared from the smoke, his eyes narrowed and calculating as he took in the sight of your injuries. “Did they shoot you or try to gut you with a pitchfork?”

You managed a weak smile, the pain radiating through you like a live wire. “Gentleman’s choice, I suppose.”

“We need to get her to the Garrison now,” John muttered, his eyes dark with something that wasn’t just irritation.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in trying to stay upright. The effort left you feeling dizzy, the edges of your vision tinged with gray. By now the pain was blinding. John lifted you into the car, and the last you remember feeling before the burn took over again was the feeling of cold air blowing against your cheeks.

[eden-writes-stuff]

Hi! Would you be willing to write some rosekiller angst? Some hurt/comfort goes a long way :-)

tags: angst, torture, death eater rosekiller wordcount: 623

Evan wasn't even crying anymore. His body was almost numb from all the pain he'd been put through over the last hour. His throat was sore from all the screaming. And all that because he hadn't killed a child.

Eventually, they just left him lying on the cold floor, unable to move.

Barty made sure everyone was gone, before he snuck through the black doors, cowering next to Evan.

"Rosie? Baby?" He gently lifted him up into his lap, stroking his hair. The boy looked pale, exhausted. Barty hated them for hurting him. His lovely, brilliant, weird, beautiful Evan. Evan, who knew how to heal, unlike Barty. The bigger problem was, that Barty didn't even know what spell he would use in this situation. It wasn't like there was anything exactly wrong with him. Evan hadn't broken a bone or dislocated a shoulder, he'd just experienced a lot of pain.

He needed to get him help. Regulus would know what to do. He always knew what to do, he was always in control. Barty placed a soft kiss on his boyfriend's forehead, before carrying him through the manor. It was the kind of house that was so dark it seemed to swallow all the light and with it the joy. Just like his old home.

Halfway up the stairs, Evan began shaking in his arms. "It's fine. You'll be fine. We'll get you help", he whispered, holding him closer.

They both shared a room with Regulus, which had made things around here slightly more bearable. "Put him on his bed", the youngest Black instructed as he saw them walking in, placing his book aside and gabbing his wand.

"They took turns on him for an hour. I don't know what to do", Barty explained, voice not as steady as he would have liked. "I know, I heard him...." He swallowed, before sitting next to Evan on the bed. 

For the next 20 minutes, Barty paced through the room, trying to help Regulus as much as he could. Then he waited.

Evan had stopped shaking and wasn't as pale as before, but it took him a while before he woke up again.

"Rosie... Are you okay? How do you feel?", he asked, softly taking his hand. "Feel like shit." His voice was rasp and barely audible, but he was back. Half-open eyes, a weak grasp, but he was back. And he was alive. 

Barty gave him a glass of water, which Evan emptied in one go. With a quiet sigh, Barty lay down next to him, face buried in the crook of his neck.

"I was scared", he admitted after a while. "I thought I would lose you." "I was scared too", Evan whispered. "But I really didn't want to kill this kid. And it's pretty fucked up that they make us." "It is. But it's not worth you being tortured like this." "Yeah... Maybe." Evan sighed, pulling Barty closer to him.

He liked being alive. He liked a lot of things about it. Being with Barty, feeling the sun on his face, good food, all kinds of bugs and spiders, flower fields, his sister, spending time with his friends... But life like this... Spending most of his time in this dark, cold house, going out mostly at night, and when they went out it was to kill people. Time with his friends and with Barty had also become very thin because most of them were always busy and Pandora refused to talk to him.

"Bee?" "Hm?" He sounded like he was half asleep. "If I wanted to leave... would you come with me?" Barty looked up at him, but before he could answer, there was a loud banging at the door.

"Crouch. We need you for a mission. Now."

[kittenfangirl20]

*unlike before she wasn’t dancing and singing, but feeling to help her dad and Adam, at the hotel Adam and Lute walked through the portal from Heaven, Adam called a servant to bring him a platter of ribs to be brought to the waiting room*

Lute: Sir, I don’t understand why you decided to come here when we could just be a projection.

*Adam just shrugged, he had a feeling that he should be here, he waited and a young woman walked into the meeting room, she looked so much like Lucifer*

Adam: Sup.

*Adam held out his hand to Charlie who seemed hesitant at first, but she took his hand and seemed rather shocked that she shook his hand*

Charlie: Adam I know you aren’t really happy to hear about my plans to redeem Sinners. But I also came here for another reason. I found my mom lied about what happened in Eden and I just wanted to say that I am very sorry.

*Charlie’s heart broke as a pained look briefly crossed his face*

Lute: Sir, you shouldn’t give her the fucking time of day, tell her why we are here so we can leave.

*Adam just held up his as if to tell Lute to be quiet*

Adam: What would you like for me to do, I don’t see any notes or anything.

*Charlie got a sheepish grin, her cute little drawings wouldn’t work with Adam, so she had to try another tactic*

Charlie: I was thinking of having you see the hotel for yourself and maybe I could get some advice from you.

*at the hotel the guests were waiting for Charlie to come back, they made a new commercial that was about to be on air after Alastor talked with Vox while Angel Dust made observations about how it sounded like flirting, just then Charlie burst into the lobby looking very happy*

Charlie: Guys, I have a very important guest who wanted to see the hotel, meet Adam the first man and the leader of the Exorcists.

*Adam then walked into the room while everyone started in shock*

Adam: Sup, you can all call me Dickmaster.

Angel Dust: Well hello Dickmaster.

Adam: Ok, I already like him.

Charlie: Angel Dust is our guest, Husk runs the front desk and bar, Niffty is our maid, Alastor is the manager, and this is Vaggie who is both my girlfriend and business partner.

*Adam was about to say something when the door opened from behind him*

Lucifer: Charlie, you said you wanted me to come over after the meeting, how did everything go?

*Adam felt his heart skip a beat hearing the voice of Lucifer knowing that he was standing right behind him*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Matchmaker Charlie AU)

*Charlie woke up confused, instead of in her bed with Vaggie, she was laying on the softest grass she felt, it even put her bed to shame when it came to softness*

?: Are you alright? Are you an angel, you must be a new one since I haven’t met you before, but you look like an angel.

*Charlie sat up and was in awe of the beauty around her, also the voice she heard sounded familiar to her, she looked up and saw a man sitting on a tree branch, the only word she could use to describe this man was beautiful, he had lightly tanned skin, short hair the color of milk chocolate, and brown eyes with a hint of honey gold to them, the most shocking was that this man was very much naked, in fact he had no shame in showing off his dick that would be quite impressive though Charlie hadn’t seen many dicks to compare*

Charlie: Wait, who are you?

*the man giggled cutely*

?: Don’t you know who I am, I am Adam the first human man.

*Charlie then remembered the same voice sounding more arrogant saying “Do you know who I am, I’m fucking Adam” but this was nothing like the man she met at Heaven’s Embassy, in fact he wasn’t even like the man that was described in the book her mom wrote about the origins of Hell, Adam jumped down from the tree looking her over in a very innocent manner*

Adam: You look like an Archangel Luci.

Charlie: Luci?

Adam: Luci is the best, in fact he should be here soon. I can take you to meet him. I forgot to ask what your name is.

Charlie: My name is Charlie, it’s nice to meet you Adam.

*she held her hand out to Adam and he shook with such a friendly smile, Charlie wondered when Adam would start acting like how her mother had described her, he took her hand and they walked through what Charlie realized was Eden, there was actually something endearing about Adam, just then they stopped at a pond with the cutest little ducks she had ever seen, she knew that her father probably would have loved a place like this, Adam then got a smile as he looked up*

Adam: Luci!!!!

*Charlie looked up and gasped, it was her father, Lucifer Morningstar when he was an angel of Heaven, she looked over at Adam and realization hit her*

Charlie internally: Adam was in love with my dad.

She watched as Adam ran over to her father Luicfer and they hugged each other, Lucifer even spun him around a little bit.

Lucifer: Addie! It's so good to see you dove.

Charlie was so shocked by the affectionate nickname and how Adam flushed pink. They looked at each other like they were the most perfect beings in the universe.

Adam: Oh, you just have to meet the new angel her name is Charlie!

Lucifer looked puzzled, new angel? Surely he would have heard if his father made a new angel. He looked over to her and was shocked, this girl was very pretty but she didn't look angelic. She actually looked like a female version of himself with red and yellow eyes.

How odd.

Lucifer smiled and held out his hand: Nice to meet you Charlie.

Charlie shook his hand: Hi da-.... Lucifer. It's nice to meet you.

Adam ran over and picked up a duckling and held it up for both Lucifer and Charlie, his smile wide and innocent.

Adam: Look! They just had babies, aren't they just the sweetest?

Lucifer: Yes! Do you remember your purpose Adam? To eventually have babies of your own?

Adam nodded, his smile was shy and Charlie didn't miss the way his hand went to his belly as if he were the one that wanted to carry the baby.

Adam knew he had to have kids at some point but he wanted them with Lucifer so badly, he didn't think Lilith liked him very much and he didn't know why.

Charlie could see the shy looks they were giving each other. Did her dad.... Love Adam back?

[army-of-bee-assassins]

i got my clinic schedule!!!!! somehow i have two aphasia clients again, despite having already had aphasia clients last semester and having completed all my adult hours already. i guess they just needed someone to fit in there. i don't mind too much tbh! it's a different supervisor and he's really cool (tho extremely scatterbrained lmao). and aphasia is pretty interesting. what i'm really excited about tho is that i will also be doing literacy (dyslexia) diagnostics and early intervention/parent coaching! both with supervisors that i like. and the last one is a language client (presumably a young child) at the ass crack of dawn on thursdays lol. i am more reserved about this supervisor but i do hear that she's good to work with. she apparently just requires a lot of prep which i fucking suck at so that'll be a learning curve. anyway, altogether it's five clients and one diagnostic. i have three classes (one each mon-weds), and then i'll work afternoons tues/thurs and all day friday. it's gonna be busy but hopefully not too bad! i'm excited about it right now, at least

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[kamitv]

Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.

It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.

"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."

"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.

Though, his words weren’t directed to you.

He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.

Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.

The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.

“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.

The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.

“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.

Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”

“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.

You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.

Gulping, “Sugu-“

“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.

Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.

It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.

With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.

“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.

You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”

“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.

Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.

And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.

“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"

Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"

"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.

You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.

He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.

"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.

You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.

On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."

"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.

"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"

"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.

The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.

"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.

That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."

Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.

There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"

Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?

Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.

The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...

Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.

And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.

Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"

Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"

Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.

Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.

Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.

Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.

"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.

"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"

(pt. 2)

[toji-bunny-girl]

You don't go to the library to study. You go there to have your cunt stuffed, by nonother than librarian!Gojo.

He works there 5 days a week, and you made sure to be there by your corner every single one of those days, carefully staring at him through the side of your book. Of course, he's well aware of your interest in him. You're so preoccupied with him you don't even realise you're holding the book upside down.

He doesn't realise it yet but he's slow to share the same amount of attraction to you as you are to him. He'd note the way your eyebrows would adorably scrunch together when you're actually doing your assignment for once, and you'd collapse face down onto the table when the frustration and exhaustion caught up to you. Or how your favourite colour seemed to be pink, your stationery and laptop covered in different shades of the colour.

He's used to your presence by now, having spent the last couple of weeks observing you just as you stalked him through the library. And truth to be told, he actually enjoyed it—he's got a cutie following behind him, too shy to strike up a conversation with him and too dumb to hide your little crush any better.

You quickly became the only part of his job he would look forward to, questioning what kind of crap you were going to pull up to just right before his shift. Until you're gone all of a sudden.

Maybe you were just late, he thought on the first day of your absence. Or maybe you're sick by the second day. Perhaps you're just busy with school…or maybe some another guy—

Why does he even care in the first place? You're just some stalker with a pretty face, nothing special out of the sea of girls in his DMs. Gojo doesn't like how he's fretting over a girl who he hasn't talked to before, your presence doesn't control how his day goes anyway.

Until it does.

It exasperated him by how he allowed himself to be subjugated under you. He can't focus on his seminars when the voices in his head wonder about you louder than the lecturer's, he can't flirt with the chicks on campus without thinking about that fangirl from the library and he can't sleep if his head is filled with the images of you with another guy.

What kind of spell have you managed to put him under?

He was completely and utterly chafed by the next week when he entered his shift, a frown seemingly marked permanently upon his face as he went through his chores, putting away the books back to their categorised shelves. That was until he heard a familiar pit-pats of your shoes, and saw your figure stupidly hiding behind a bookshelf from the side of his eye.

His playful spirit returned when he noted your presence, and he wandered further into the library, where no one could see the two of you. As expected, you shuffled along his steps before slipping yourself into the aisle behind him, pretending to flick through the choices of books on display.

Those were Chinese novels, and you majored in Biochemistry. Idiot, he thought with an internal chuckle.

Unbeknownst to you, he had strolled to your back, waiting for you to turn to face him. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you found him standing right in front of you, and you froze then and there like a deer in the headlights.

"I know you've been stalking me around here," he had a shit-eating smirk on his face as his arms rested by your sides to trap you in between them. "Freak," he whispered next to your ears, sending a tingle through your nerves.

"I-I, ah—" you stammered, trying to collect your words to sound coherent. Your face was flushed bloody red with embarrassment, and Gojo was sure he'd burn himself if he were to touch you.

"But that's okay…" he drawled. "I won't spread the word if you listen to me."

Your eyes were wide, gaping at him through your lashes as you nodded.

Fuck, were you adorable.

"You like me, huh?"

"Uhm…I, uh…"

"Hm?"

"Y-Yes," you blurted with your eyes squeezed shut, too embarrassed. Your breath was hot, and they scorched his cheeks red upon your words.

"What do you like about me?" oh god does he love teasing the hell out of you.

"Your f-face…"

"My face?" he feigned dumb. Of course, he's well aware that girls would only come chasing after his looks. But he absolutely enjoyed torturing you with his stupid questions. "Which part of my face?"

"Huh…?" your eyes were spinning, your hands raising to push his frame a little away for your comfort.

"My eyes? My nose?" his bigger hand captured the two of yours into his grasp, his fingers were icy cold against yours, and his face neared yours once again, merely a breath away. "Or my lips?"

You didn't dare to answer, the sound of your throat gulping filled the air as a few stray hairs of his tickled your cheek. His eyes peered towards yours, catching your gaze that fell upon his lips.

"There, huh?" Gojo's smirk widened, his grip on your wrists tightening a fraction. "Wanna try them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words left your trembling lips, except for a silent gasp. He took the shift of your feature as a sign for him to advance onto you, his lips gently sucked on your soft flesh, the tiniest amount of your saliva flowed onto his tongue and they tasted better than the finest honey.

A string of your mixed essence connected his lips to yours, red and swollen as a sign of his kiss, when he pulled away. Your knees weakened in enfeeblement, and Gojo caught you before you could fall to the ground.

"You're done?" his arms are strong, and you could feel his muscles flex under your hand when you gathered your strength to stabilise on your feet. "I'm not."

His touches slowly trailed down from your arm to your hips, and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together when his gaze fell onto them. In his eyes you could see a growing hunger that lurked beneath his bright blue eyes, it was the darker gradient that hung low in his orbs.

"Do you touch yourself here when you think of me?" your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip and your eyes peered down to between your skirt, where his hand was as you vaguely nodded; hoping that he didn't see the faint motion of your head.

How wouldn't he know when all his attention is on you? His eyes scanned the faint shifts in your features when he pressed against your heat, making sure there wasn't any hint of dissent to his touch—and mostly searching for the muted salacity behind your pretty eyes.

"Sometimes…" your voice was meek, but it was audible enough for his ear to twitch at your words. His chest almost burst to your confession, and the images of your features twisting into lewd faces flashed past his mind, calling out his name with that sweet voice of yours.

A soft moan left your lips when his fingers slipped past your pink panty, drawing slow circles upon your clit. Your hips bucked as he teased, his other hand coming down to palm your ass.

"What about I make you feel good?" he gently asked, and you drunkenly nodded to your pleasure. His thumb grew charge of teasing your hardening bud, his two long fingers dipped into your already-slick cavern, reaching the sensitive parts of your inside.

Your lips tensed into a line to quell the moans that drew from your itching tummy, and your hands rested on Gojo's chest, gripping onto his shirt for support.

His fingers grew greedy for more of your whimpers, stroking past your walls, searching for the velvety spot in you. You threw your head back when he found the part he was looking for, pumping out and into the spongey surface, stimulating your nerves to their limit.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids flew shut when he expedited the speed of his slick-coated digits, his arm growing slightly sore as he carried you to the height of your orgasm. His cock twitched when you drew out a cry of pleasure, your breath stuck in your throat as your mind went blank from your high.

Your grip on his clothes loosened, and you panted as you rest your weight against the shelves, Gojo's damp fingers evident of the pleasure he delivered to you. He watched as you collected your remaining breath, your cheeks flushed pink in arousal and your eyesight slowly blinked clear.

A bolt flash of surprise ran through his eyes when you carefully pulled his pants down, gripping his hardened girth with your warm hands. Gojo stopped you with a grab of your wrist, your whole body tensing in creeping embarrassment—he doesn't like it when you touch him?

Your thoughts flew out the window when he spat onto your palm, before guiding your hand back to his throbbing cock. Your mind grew blank as you began fisting his length, his breath hitching when you rubbed over his pinkish-red tip.

Your touches were filled with careful inexperience, and Gojo found it absolutely fucking adorable. The soft squelching of his saliva in your hand as you pumped his cock filled the air, and he inched closer to kiss you once again.

His groans flowed into your mouth as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as you pleased him. You seemed to be a quick learner on your own, pumping his pulsing cock faster, gripping onto him tighter, and rubbing his sensitive tip of all.

His hips stuttered along with the movements of your hand, a sign of his close release and you were clearly relentless to please him. Your pace doesn't falter, but fastened instead and his moans muffled through your sloppy kiss, your mixed drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

"Fuck," his voice cracked as his cock twitched, before ejaculating his hot semen onto your clothes, slowly dripping down to your thigh. Your breaths mingled in the sultry air, the smell of your essences filled your nostrils as the both of you cooled from the aftermath of your highs.

You recognised the dirty smirk on his face when you flicked your gaze up at him, and you sank into the bookshelf in preparation for what he had conjured up in his mind.

"The library closes in 30 minutes, we'll get the whole place to ourselves by then."

[xazse]

okay hear me out…. reverse hybrid au… with tigerhybrid!sukuna bc nobody else can handle him because he’s so aggressive and overbearing .. so reader is their last resort zoo caretaker and they’re is shocked at how it’s like reader has a leash on tigerhybrid!sukuna 😚

I’VE GOT IT?

Synopsis: You’re head of a completely different department so why are you being asked to help with an odd situation?

Warnings: Female!reader + Mean!Sukuna + cringe tropes (sorry) + Hybrid!Sukuna: ears and a tail + heat + cumming inside + doggy + NOTPROOFREAD!!! + obsessed!Sukuna

Pairings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna x female!Reader

Notes: I’m really working to improve my writing for you guys!! Esp my non-English speakers

“Miss please you know we would never beg like this if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t specialize in that field, how many times must I tell you?”

You were getting sick of these scientists coming to you more often than normal, there’s three right now begging for you to take on a case that you didn’t want to do.

“Sukuna is out of control, he’s already injured five of our best, now they refuse to work with him”

“And I should be the sixth?” You say with a quirk of your brow.

They all stop and stare at one another, you have a good ass point what makes them think that you’ll be the antidote for their beast they decided to keep.

“Like I said, my stance on this won’t change.”

Another voice in the doorway of your office speaks up: “I’ll upgrade your pay and have you transferred up.”

Your ears perk up at this offer, to go even further where you are right now means business and a fuck ton of money. On the flip side it means facing whatever they’re against but you’ve always been a little greedy for money so you oblige.

The scientists made sure to throw you in the thinnest garments: “to let him know you don’t have anything on you.” As they put it.

They also had told you no sudden movements and to talk with him in a calm manner, show him you aren’t afraid and find out what’s been making him so angry lately. Easy peasy except your life is on the line!

You disregard any negative thoughts of death and make your way into the place where they keep their hybrids, it’s like little apartments where they can do as they please in return for information on their biology, as far as you know they love it here. You’ve once met puppy!hybrids Satoru and Suguru they were very sweet men, needy but sweet.

Your first step into the apartment is met with a strong smell, a smell of something primal if that even has a smell. It’s warm.

You start poking around his place, checking his fridge and looking for anything out of the ordinary, nothing seems amiss though. It’s not until you come up to one of the doors and hear slight noises. You press your ear up closer making the noise more clearer: whining it sounds like whining.

Could he perhaps be In pain? You knock three times and announce you’re coming in. The door clicks and you start slowly pulling it open. You see the man in all his glory resting upon his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and an unreadable expression.

Sukuna is big, he’s a big man compared to all the other hybrids, he’s brimming with pure muscle. Does he workout in here? Your thoughts are interrupted by slight growling: he’s warning you. Step any close r and he will have no choice but to harm you.

You pay him no mind, instead you step fully in and start looking around without a care in the world.

“You’re making trouble- why is that?” You say while looking through his dresser.

“You’re being extremely nosy, leave before I kill you.” He threatens harshly.

“If you harm me I’ll have you sent somewhere else, I know where you come from and I’m assuming you don’t want to go back.”

The room goes eerily silent like he’s making a choice, he opens his mouth to speak but a groan accidentally slips past his lips.

Oh… the big oaf is in heat, and top scientists couldn’t tell or try to track his cycle?

“You in heat big guy?”

“No-“

“Such a liar, I’m not here to make fun of you, I’m here to make sure you get proper help.”

“The only way I’ll get proper help is if I fuck someone.” So damn blunt you think to yourself.

He continues speaking: “I think you know they won’t allow that though.”

“Would you like some toys? I can request that for you.”

“Useless.”

You let out the loudest sigh and plop down on his fluffy bed. Bending your head in his direction you see he’s not looking at your face but your body, eyes fully trained on your pert nipples because of the cold.

You allow the poor suffering hybrid to mount you, putting a good bit of his weight on your back you can feel the outline of his thick meaty cock resting near your cunt and ass.

He’s hard, fully hard and probably has been for a while: you feel almost a little bad.

Sukuna doesn’t waste anytime grinding down against you, it feels so fucking good, his cock is accepting anything even if it’s the bare minimum. Everytime he meets your ass he whines, such a needy tiger you coo.

He’s ignoring all the dirty little comments you send his way too focused on the only good sensation he’s felt for a while, his hand doesn’t compare to your rounded ass. You reach between your legs and pull his shorts down, letting his cock bob free for a minute before he’s pushing up against you again.

He’s producing so much precum that youCan feel it through your silky garments.

“Smells so good… really good.” “Mhhhphmmm-“ he’s now being open with his groans too focused on the feeling of his tip prodding your clothed pussy. His swishing tail is within your eyesight, you grab it and rub it for extra stimulation.

You help him a little bit by bouncing your ass against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your neck, you can feel how sharp his damn teeth are and pray to yourself he isn’t going to bite you: killing you in the process.

He doesn’t do any of that instead he just lightly bites, using no strength at all. While he’s busying tearing up your neck you slip your panties off, grabbing his fat length and teasing your wet hole. Just feeling it in your hand has your body burning up in arousal it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock, especially a cock his size.

You slowly start inching it in, the stretch is so damn unbearable and uncomfortable. When he feels what you’re doing he starts moving his hips already. An impatient thing such as him isn’t gonna wait. He gets about halfway in and you feel a thick liquid fill you, did this beast just cum? Already?

“Nhhhnn.. fuck-..” this doesn’t deter him because he’s sitting fully on his knees and pulling you flush against him, his entire length snuggly inside your pussy. He doesn’t wait to bounce you back on him, you can’t comprehend anything properly so shocked by how he just made you take every inch of him.

Your lashes flutter closed as he ruts into you like you’re the damn sex tox he’s been given, one he wasn’t gonna take care of properly. His hold on you is extremely tight so you can do nothing but take him fully, even when your walls threaten to constrict around him he pushes through it and keeps fucking Into you.

You allow him, allow him to thrust like a wild animal, mercilessly pulling all the way out of you just to slam back in. Drool is seeping down your neck where he’s latched on in droves. He’s far too gone, pussy has never felt this good.

By the end Sukuna is still rutting uselessly, he’s not even hard anymore he just can’t stop leaking cum nor has that good euphoric feeling stopped. He’s made a mess of your pussy, his cum and yours seeping down your thighs and onto his ruined sheets.

Hes licking at your face and you can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, this big hybrid is purring in content. Any attempt to move from under him is completely halted, he won’t let you move even an inch.

He begins sucking on your nipples, they’re definitely gonna be sore later but now it seems he just wants comfort and you fully give that to him. Rubbing his ears and whispering sweet nothings to him.

After that incident Sukuna is completely attached, he constantly whines for you to come see him including the scientists also calling for you to calm him down. He won’t let you have a moments peace.

Even when you tell him you’re extremely busy he’s having none of it, if he wants you to laze around and do nothing but rub him or praise/coddle him he completely expects it!

As his mate you’re meant to be with him all the time you should be grateful he’s even letting you leave the nest.

You were left fully shocked when he first called you his mate but the scientists explained that you were his first and now you are his last, they had all praised you because testing was made easier if you were there.

They’re all surprised to see him completely like mush under you, like one time when it was time for his blood to be drawn he made you come and sit in his lap while he had it taken. The doctors said he seemed to be completely smitten with you, in love and so possessive.

[pseudowho]

Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

[lokissweater]

“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

————————————————————————

toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

[ridingthatd]

𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱

choso, sukuna, toji, nanami, gojo,etc...

contains: fem!reader, heavy smut, nsfw, squirting, peeing, masturbation, kinky, flithy, dirty talk, passing out, rough sex, teasing, hair pulling, etc...

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨:

choso was always desperate for the wetness of your pussy. he always made it clear how much he loved eating you out. how much he loved. craved. sliding his warm tongue against your clit. shoving it inside your cunt. feeling your tight cunt clench around it.

choso knew you weren't as experienced as he was. he knew you weren't flithy as he was. he knew you weren't corrupted as he was. so he wanted to teach you. make you experience new things. he always end up staining his pants with his warm seeds everytime you sit on his face. so innocently. so hesitant.

but as soon as you place your plumpy ass on his face. you start grinding against his pierced tongue. messly. sloppily. stroking your pussy on his face. coating every inch of it with your sweet honey. but choso wanted more. he wanted to not only feel the tightness of your wet cunt. but he wanted to also feel the tightness of your little ass.

it started innocently at first. he would gently poke your tight hole with his nose as you grind against him. his lips were busy with your puffy pussy. while his nose was slowly stretching your ass. slowly making its way inside of your tightness.

"choso i-" you sob feeling his warm breath on your ass that was soaked with your own juice. you couldn't form a word because choso was already attacking you with his pierced tongue. sliding the cold metal.

"shhh let daddy fuck this tight little hole with his nose" he whispers into your ass cheek. hitting into it. before he dives back in. not giving you time to process what he said. he was going crazy at the idea of taking your virgin ass with not his cock. but his nose. would your ass be so tight that it would bleed? bleed just from having his nose in?

he was huffing like an animal in heat. grunting as he eats your pussy. wet sounds that he made while eating your cunt was filling the room. he was gulping. drinking. every inch of your pussy. getting so drunk on it. "fuck baby- i love your pussy fuck i love it" he groans as he stares at the rednees and puffines of it. spreading your folds with his fingers. before directly shoving his pierced tongue in.

he whimpers as he slowly start grinding his nose against your tight ass hole. eyes rolling at how tight it was clenching. his rough hands were gripping your ass. spreading your cheeks wide. your eyes widen as you realize what's he's trying to do.

"daddy no! it's dirty- ah" he whine out feeling him tearing his nose into your ass. while his tongue was still shoved deep inside of you. you tired to move your plumpy ass away from his hold. but he growled. warning to not take his meal away.

your ass was on fire as you feel his nose making it's way in. choso was in heaven. his fat cock was painfully hard. throbbing at how tight you were. it was hard for him to breath but he didn't care. nothing is gonna stop him from enjoying his meal.

you tremble against him. the feeling of being stuffed. the feeling of having something shoved inside your tight ass. it all simulated it you so much. "choso- ah! no more! no more! im going to pee!" you cry out. trying to escape his grip. but he wouldn't let go.

excitement buzzed through his whole body at your words. he grips your hips. and hold you up then shove you back down on his nose. forcing you to hump it.

and you couldn't hold it back anymore. screaming before you slump down. hot stream of your squirt shooting directly inside his mouth. it was dripping down his neck. choso was shaking. groaning. as he starts drinking every bit of your warm liquid. locking his mouth on the pee hole a bit down your clit.

he soon realized you passed out. but he didn't care. like he said nothing is going to stop him from enjoying his meal.

𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧:

sukuna knew you were a needy little slut for him. but he never knew you would go this far. he never knew you would go as far as tieing him up on his office chair because he wasn't giving your pussy any attention.

"you flight little whore" sukuna growls out as he stares at the way you start undressing your self on his desk. slowly revealing your wet pussy. placing your ass on his cold desk before spreading your legs. giving full view of how desperate your pussy for his fat cock was.

"if you untie me right now. i might show some mercy to your desperate little pussy" he whispers as he hungrily stares at the way you swipe your fingers against your puffy clit. while you slowly pinch your perky nipples. staring at his cock that you freed out of his pants. it was hitting his abdomen. already so hard.

you giggle. "who said im going to untie you? you have been so mean to me" you pout. "so im going to be mean to you too" you grin staring at his dark eyes. eyes that were ready to devour you. moaning out as you shove one finger in. then two. staring at the way sukunas cock start leaking. dripping down his heavy balls.

the sounds of your fingers fucking your wet pussy filled his office. the smell of your wetness passed through the air. hitting his nose. has him clenching his jaw painfully. once he sees the way your body starts arching your hips. the way your pussy clench so hard around your fingers. the way you were making a mess on his desk. your juice dripping every where. he lose it.

he groan out before he snaps the pathetic of a tie you had on him. standing up his office chair. and rubbing on the red spot the tie left. your eyes widen. and your movement halt as he makes his way towards you. he roughly picks you up. and bend you over his desk. not giving you enough time to process.

he shove his hard cock inside your pussy. causing you to scream. he doesn't stop. thrusting inside of you without mercy. the desk was shaking from the force. "isn't this what you wanted? huh?" he darkly questions. grabbing your hair into his rough hands. pulling it back. forcing you to look at him.

it was so painful. so painfully good. he was gripping your hips. forcing you to match his movements. leaving harsh bites on your neck. you can feel his spit dripping down. his balls were smacking against your ass. creating a loud sound echoing through his office. you wanted to pee so bad. you wanted to let it out so bad.

"fucking cum slut" he growls in your ear. fastening his movements. you can feel his warm breath hitting you as he exhales harshly. this all drives your body to shake. giving out on the desk. as hot wetness streams down your thighs. sukuna can feel it. he knew it. you peed through your orgasm. he groans. it was so dirty so filthy. the warm wetness hitting his balls. soon enough he was emptying his balls inside of you. painting your insides white with a last thrust.

maybe he discovered a new kink.

𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨:

nanami wasn't shy about what he wanted. he wasn't shy or embarrassed about describing to you. in details. what he craved. what he needed. he was blunt. which always seem to catch you off surprise. you could be cooking breakfast for him. moving around in the kitchen.

just to turn around and catch a glimpse of a shirtless nanami. shirtless nanami with his pants loss. leaking cock out. as he stroke it. watching you. admiring you. as soon as your eyes move toward his fat cock. he whimpers beating it faster. swiping his thumb on his leaking angry red tip.

"baby..." his voice was deep and husky still tainted with sleep. "I liked what you were doing with your hips.." he whimpers. tugging on his cock harder. your mouth days out. because you knew when he acts like this it meant something.

"nanami". you beathed out against his swollen lips. hearing his heavy breath coming out. you swallowed once his hooded lids lifted just enough to look up at you. " lie down for me". he does with no hesitation. making his way toward the couch in the living room.

you lazily climb up his body. placing your thighs on either sides of his body. cagging him in. before you push your hips up. and slid your already soaked panties off. slumping down your wet pussy on his abs. causing him to hiss through his teeth.

you could feel yourself growing wetter and more eager as you made it down to the top of his chest. his heart was beating rapidly you could feel it on your pussy, like a jackhammer thudding behind his thick pec. the feel of the beat of his heart against your pussy almost made you melt. he was barely keeping it together, controlling whatever that was trying to break free inside of him.

"baby" he breathily moaned again when you placed my lips around one of his flat nipples and sucked gently on it. when you scraped your teeth over it, he hissed through his own and squeezed you hips tightly. "baby!" he groans out once he feels you grinding your pussy against his abs. rubbing your wetness on him.

and he does something that has you on the edge. he cums. he spurts his warm liquid against your ass. hitting your pussy. he came just from having his nipples played. you moan out before you start grinding faster on him.

using his cum that hit your pussy as a lube. it was so sloppy. you wanted to halt your movements because of the weird feeling that was starting to build inside of you.

but nanami didn't let you. he grabbed your hips. and forced you to continue. your body trembles. before an unfamiliar sensation of hit stream leave your cunt. landing on his chest. and a part of his neck. nanamis jaw was wide open. so aroused at the sight of your pee dripping down his nipples.

and he cums for the second time untouched.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮:

toji would always get what he wants from you. simply grabbing you. and bending you over the kitchens counter. before he free his rock hard cock. and shove it up your warm cunt. he didn't care. you were his as much as he was yours. he would mind not even one bit if you use him whenever you were horny. grinding on his thighs. as he humps it up your pussy. giving your relief. even while you're sleeping.

he wouldn't bother to wake you up. having you naked under the blankets. he would throw his boxers on the other side of the bed before he joins you. slipping his thick cock deep inside your warm cunt.

"shhh go back to sleep baby, let daddy enjoy this pussy" toji coo at your sleeping figure. and you gently close your eyes. hearing you soft snores again. "such a good girl for me" toji mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.

he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.

gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.

he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.

you squirt all over his hand, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- toji couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his hand. just to place it back into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.

your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest because we're not done yet".

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮:

gojo he was a messy eater. every time you observe the way he eats. it seems like he didn't have any manners. he was a messy eater. especially with the way he ate your wet pussy. spitting on it. letting his spit land directly on your swollen clit. before he start devouring his feast. lapping on your wetness- and his wetness.

his cum that he filled you with a second ago. he seems to have a habit of filling your womb with his seeds. and as soon as it starts spilling out of your pussy. he would fuck it back in you with his tongue.

he wasn't ashamed to go out. showing his messy face that was still coated with your wetness. he would go as far as eating you out on his office chair. telling the maids to bring his favorite dessert to him- which was you. everyone already knew what he meant by that. you would come over with a flushed face knowing whats going to happen. gojo would grab you and place you directly on his mouth .

letting you grind on his tongue that was shoved deep inside of your pussy. while the maids were still there. standing. staring at the floor. not daring to look.

it wasn't surprising for him when you let out your hot stream in his mouth. while he's enjoying his mean. it drove him more mad. having you shaking and begging him to stop. embarrassed about it.

but as you said gojo didn't give a fuck. he enjoyed that shit. he craved it. in fact he wouldn't stop till you pee all over him. squirt all over him.

he wasn't satisfied until you do. he wanted it more and more and more. every day. every minute. every second.

[whateveriwant]

Ok I lied. Here’s some more Simon fucking himself stupid because apparently he has a chokehold on me. (prev: part 1, part 2)

You’d think a man that regularly fucks his own brains mushy would have a poor performance in the bedroom, right? For a normal man, perhaps, but this is Simon Riley we’re talking about; ‘vigor’ is his middle name.

So even after going for multiple rounds, cycling through multiple positions, and getting covered in multiple fluids, your boyfriend is as ready to go as ever… physically speaking, that is. Because as far as mentally goes, he dropped out a long time ago, somewhere between taking you on your back and then on your knees.

Now you’ve reached the part of the night you like to call your ‘wind down phase’, where you’re just looking for one last, easy release before you throw in the towel. But where you’re tired, sensitive as hell, and already feeling tomorrow’s soreness starting to creep in, Simon’s still pinching and pawing at you like he can’t get enough.

As you lazily ride him, fingers curled over his thick shoulders, Simon’s own hands are pressed hungrily into the meat of your hips. From where he’s sat against the headboard, his lower back propped up by a pillow or two, he’s in the perfect position to guide you back and forth in his lap.

It’s as you feel the slow approach of your final climax that you begin to pick up the pace a little, only to slow right back down again as a sudden noise has you distracted. It takes you a second to place the sound, but once you recognize it, you’re immediately grinding your movements to a halt.

Simon’s phone only rings when it’s you or his work calling. And seeing the current situation you find yourselves in, you know it’s not the former.

The phone rings and rings, neither one of you bothering to move for it. The call gets sent to voicemail, and for a moment you think that’s all it’s going to be, but as the phone promptly begins to trill again, you know something else is up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you reach over to the nightstand to grab the device. “It’s John,” you tell your boyfriend, seeing his Captain’s contact flash across the screen. You turn the phone around to show Simon, but it seems he has little interest in it, his grip on your waist unwavering as his phone buzzes away in your hand.

“Should you answer? Could be important,” you say. The boss making back to back calls speaks of urgency, if not emergency. But Simon’s focus lies solely on where your two bodies are connected, a sex-fueled tunnel vision if you ever saw one.

Though one look at Simon’s face tells you he’s in no place to have a meaningful conversation right now, as the phone darkens again, only to then light up for a third time in a row, you know this is serious. So despite the haziness in his eyes and the limpness of his jaw, you decide to answer the phone, putting it on speaker.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment before you hear the deep baritone of Price’s voice calling out. “Simon?” He waits a beat. “Simon, hello?” He tries again when he hears nothing in response.

While Price is kept in limbo, you’re busy trying to rouse your boyfriend back from brain death. “Simon, it’s John,” you whisper to him, hoping to not be heard by the other man on the phone. Unfortunately, Simon gives zero indication he’s heard you, his bleary gaze looking right past you.

“You there, Simon?” Price’s voice crackles over the speaker.

Bringing your hand up, you lightly tap Simon on the cheek. “Baby, it’s John. Your boss,” you whisper again, slightly louder this time.

Again, he offers you no response, just a slow blink, an even slower trickle of drool starting to form at the corner of his mouth.

As you hear another gruff, “Simon?”, being spoken over the phone, your taps become a little more insistent, a little more forceful.

“It’s Price, Si. Price. Captain Price,” you hiss, urgently patting him against the cheek.

Somehow, whether by miracle or sheer force, you’re able to knock Simon’s last two brain cells together and coax forth a vaguely human-sounding reaction from him.

“Priiizzzzze,” Simon rumbles out, a garbled approximation of his Captain’s surname.

The line goes quiet for a beat, and you can almost imagine the man on the other side blinking in confusion. Then, “You alright, Simon?” he asks earnestly. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”

Thankfully, Simon seems to have regained the smallest hint of his bearings again, and he manages to hum a solid, “Mmmf.”

Price takes a moment to consider what he means by such an ambiguous response, and deciding it translates to ‘Speak freely’, he does just that. “Well, I’m callin’ because we’ve just received word of some new developments comin’ out of Hong Kong. Laswell’ll want to give a full briefing tomorrow mornin’, but essentially–”

And that’s about as far as Simon gets before he checks out again.

As Price continues to lay down the basics for him, Simon’s focus shifts back to what he really desires: the person he’s currently buried to the hilt inside.

His Captain’s droning acts as little more than background noise as Simon reaches up and begins toying with one of your nipples. The action is unexpected (not to mention ill-timed given the circumstances), and you try batting his hand away, even as a pleasurable tweak has you choking back a moan.

However, unfazed, Simon drags his fingers down, down, downwards, slowly tracing the midline of your body until he reaches your throbbing sex. His fingers are warm and slightly rough as he begins to stroke you, applying just the barest of touches, but it’s enough to light your nerves on fire.

This time, it’s harder to stop your moans from spilling forth, and you’re forced to mash your lips together lest you reveal your presence to the Captain still chirping on and on. Your free hand darts down to grab Simon’s wrist, meaning to tug it away, but instead, you find yourself pausing, holding onto him as a shudder wracks up your spine.

You know you should push him away – or, at the very least, tell him to ease up a little – but it just feels so fucking good that you can’t bring yourself to do either.

Besides, even if you were to speak up, would Simon be cognizant enough to heed your words? A quick peek at his expression tells you all you need to know. The lights may be on upstairs, but there is no one home right now to answer the phone.

You can feel the hand between your legs grow wetter and wetter as you start to leak droplets of your arousal. The slippery fluid makes Simon’s fingers glide that much smoother, that much slicker as he rubs you.

Even the way he’s touching you now – the way he’s expertly taking you apart – isn’t the result of conscious decision making by Simon. His movements, however deft, aren’t directed by any true rhyme or reason; they’re pure muscle memory at this point.

Simon’s other hand on your hip starts to rock you against him, and you find it’s getting harder to keep yourself under control. Try as you might to tamp your voice down, your ecstasy soon gets the better of you, and before you can stop it, you’re muttering a less than subtle, “Fuck.”

Immediately, you realize what you’ve done, and you slap a hand over your mouth at your mistake. As Price’s side of the call goes similarly quiet, you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to kick yourself for your carelessness.

Just as you think the jig is up, however, you catch a lucky break, as not a second later, Price resumes, “–boots on the ground to confirm what these sat images have been pickin’ up.”

The feeling of relief that floods you is almost akin to euphoria, and you exhale deeply (but not loud enough to be picked up over the receiver) as you bring your hand back down.

That was close; way too close for comfort, honestly. And yet, despite how close you just came to exposing yourself, Simon is totally, completely oblivious to it all.

This time when you reach for the wrist between your legs, you successfully tug it away. You feel like you’ve tempted fate enough for one night.

Though Simon puts up zero fight as you remove his hand from your sex, that’s only because he then reaches up and quickly stuffs his slickened fingers into his mouth. His eyes fall shut as he savors the salty taste of your arousal, a sort of blissful wave washing over him as he sucks his fingers clean.

Somehow, though you’re not sure how it’s possible, you swear you can feel him grow even harder where he’s buried inside you. The sensation makes you squirm, wanting to bear down on the fullness within you, but you force yourself to resist the urge to tilt your hips back and forth.

This is almost torture at this point, like you’re caught in some kind of kinky Saw trap. Honestly, you’re not sure how much more of this you can take. But thankfully, it appears you won’t have to endure it for much longer.

“All that’s to say, it looks like our timetable’s been moved up. We’ll be shippin’ out earlier than expected,” Price starts to wind the one-sided conversation down.

Though Simon has been relatively mute this entire time, for some reason, at this moment, he takes the opportunity to let out a long, “Mmmmmm.”

While you know the noise isn’t much more than an appreciative moan at your taste, Price is unaware of that fact, and so he asks, “That’s not a problem, is it, Lieutenant?”

You both wait a few beats for Simon to respond, but with less than a handful of working neurons left in his brain, you figure that’s unlikely to happen. Knowing Price is still expecting an answer and your boyfriend is unable to offer him one, you realize you have to take matters into your own hands once more.

So puffing out your chest and straightening up your spine, you muster up your best Simon impression as you expel a deep, gravelly, “Hmm.” The several seconds that follow find you holding your breath in anticipation, praying to whatever god will listen that Price buys your impersonation.

It’s after he eventually says, “Alright, well, I’ll expect you at 0800 for tomorrow’s brief,” that you breathe again, feeling nearly on the verge of passing out.

Frankly, this whole ordeal has left you exhausted. From having to hide from Price to having to pull one over on him, you feel like your heart is liable to give out any moment now.

If only Simon had been more of a conscious participant in this conversation maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. You and him could have quietly laughed and swore together in your shared misery. Instead, he’s too preoccupied with squeezing your nipple again between his wet fingers to notice anything’s the matter.

You don’t even bother pushing his hand away this time as you can sense the call is mercifully coming to a close.

“Have a good rest of your night, Simon,” Price says through the speaker.

If you weren’t so wrecked right now, you could almost leap with joy from how utterly relieved you feel. From the moment you answered this call, you thought you’d undoubtedly be found out. Truth be told, you’re not sure how you managed to make it through the past several minutes unheard and undiscovered. All you know is that you did and you’re beyond grateful for that.

But before you can hang up the phone to celebrate, Price has one last thing to say. Just as you’re about to press the end call button, just as you’re about to fling the phone to the far side of the room, just as you’re about to collapse into a boneless heap because you’re finally, finally, finally in the clear, Price gives one last farewell that makes your stomach fall out of your ass.

“And you too, (Y/N).”

The call dies, and you wish you died with it.