#this is such a simple look and yet it's been living in my mind rent free.......

[laylakeating]

LAYLA KEATING I Do (Part I)

[sugoroo]

TRADING CARDS!

ʚɞ summary: toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?

warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.2k

"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."

you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"

toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."

he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.

toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.

it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.

and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.

college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.

but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.

and that's when you have an idea.

it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.

it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.

and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.

the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.

you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.

but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.

"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."

"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.

he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"

you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."

he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."

you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."

toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.

"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."

this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"

you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?

"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."

toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."

"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."

the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.

you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.

just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.

"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"

toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."

your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"

he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."

you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.

"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."

your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.

"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."

"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."

he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"

"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."

toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."

you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.

he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."

"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.

before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.

"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.

you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."

toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"

"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."

he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."

you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"

toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."

you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.

it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.

he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.

you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?

"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."

toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"

"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.

he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.

you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.

toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."

"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.

"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.

a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.

he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.

"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.

toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.

he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.

while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.

"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.

he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?

your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.

toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."

you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.

he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.

"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.

"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."

his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.

toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.

when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.

"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.

"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"

it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."

toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."

you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.

he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."

you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."

he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."

before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.

"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"

you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."

he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."

you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."

he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.

"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."

you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.

"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.

you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."

toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"

you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.

if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.

he's going to take his sweet time with you.

toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.

"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."

you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."

fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."

"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."

toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.

"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."

you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?

he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.

it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.

"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.

he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.

but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.

you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.

"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.

in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.

"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.

"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.

"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"

you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.

"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.

when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.

"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."

while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.

"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."

god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.

you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.

"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.

your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."

you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.

"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.

toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.

it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.

"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."

it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.

your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.

"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.

you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.

while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.

it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.

toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.

"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"

he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"

your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.

your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?

toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"

you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.

but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.

"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"

he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."

"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.

this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."

"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.

"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."

your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.

"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.

he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.

"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."

he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.

but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.

"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."

you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.

toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.

you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."

"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."

"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."

he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.

"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.

you're officially no longer a virgin.

"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.

the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.

"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."

you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.

"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.

"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.

"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."

toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.

this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.

you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.

"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."

he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.

"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.

looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.

"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"

"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.

"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.

your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."

"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.

"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.

"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."

it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.

as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.

and he's not about take that risk.

toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.

he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.

then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.

"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[cherrycranes]

Observed (Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Judge Jonathan Crane x Fem! reader Summary: You just moved to this fancy building and your serious neighbor invites you for a cup of tea... At first... Word count: 4,749 Contents: (Minors DNI) Drink spiking (aphrodisiac), light dom/sub, degrading, spanking, p in v, unprotected sex, ass play, orgasm denial, creampie. Author's notes: A new collab with bestie @fuckiingloser! Enjoy cause we've been thirsting for Crane lately. At the end you'll find a playlist to set the mood for this specific fic made by yours truly and a Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser!

Things had finally improved with you this past year. Your poorly paid job as a waitress was finally replaced with something that gave you much more money than what you were used to. Sure, being a stripper wasn’t exactly a career your family would be proud of, but it showered you, quite literally, in cash. The most exclusive strip club in Gotham had been so generous to you, you easily moved out of the east of town into a safer, wealthier area on the other side of the city. A nice apartment in a high rise condo much better than anything you had before.

It was definitely an adjustment, to say the least. In its pristine, minimalistic halls you stuck out like a colorful, almost nouveau riche thumb. No wonder you hadn't talked with your new, snobby neighbors yet. The most you got were dirty looks in the elevator or the hallway. Everybody could see right through you.

Even then, you tried to not let that get to you. If you could pay the rent, you belonged there, plain and simple. So you settled in. 

It was a Friday night. Surprisingly, you didn’t have to work, instead you filled your time unpacking some things and procrastinating on the rest in favor of some trashy TV. Three knocks on your door snapped you out of it. A few packages you were expecting laid on your doorstep to your surprise. You had imagined those would be delivered to the lobby. 

You brought them in. The first three matched in name, address and expected contents, the last one, however, was addressed to somebody else. A neighbor who seemingly lived right across the hallway from you but you had never met before.

Dr. Jonathan Crane.

Of course, you had to return it. You slipped into a pair of shoes and walked the small distance between your front door to the apartment number read on the package. You gave it a few knocks and right after, the door opened. 

Now, you had definitely seen him before in the hallways, and even shared a silent elevator ride with him once, but it never crossed your mind that that would be Dr. Crane. He was attractive. Beautiful, in fact. And up close he was just a visual delight. The most mesmerizing pair of pale blue eyes, plump pink lips and soft chestnut brown hair faced you from just a few inches away. Had it not been for his serious, nerve-altering flat facial expression, you would have continued in the trance his beauty put you under. 

“Hi… I’m your neighbor down the hall and I think I got your package by accident and brought it inside my place… Just wanted to return it to you...” Your voice gained enough strength the more you went on, but the slight unease didn’t disappear until his handsome features softened a bit.

Doctor Crane opened the door a little more, just enough to receive your package, his calloused fingertips lightly grazed your hand and sent an unintelligible feeling through you. 

“Ah, well thank you for returning it…” His voice was just as attractive as him. Warm, clear, elegant. No trace of any particular accent that could give away his origin and open him up for a more meaningful small talk.

“Of course, what kind of neighbor would I be if I didn't?” You smiled kindly, a spark of the desire to stop being rejected by your neighbors obvious to his eyes and ears. He smirked, the kind of smirk a scholar would give to an open beginners book of a subject he mastered.

“Well, it was nice to mee-” You swallowed the rest of your words when Doctor Crane cut you off. 

“I was actually just about to have a drink. Would you like to come in and join me as a thank you for returning my package?” His voice was monotone, ascetic. No hint of the ulterior lust you were used to from men. It honestly seemed like a great effort on his part, he didn’t appear like the kind of guy who enjoyed company. 

Before your lips could mouth an automatic rejection, a rush of thoughts crashed over you. He was a stranger but he was also your next door neighbor. You were bound to see him frequently, in the hallways or the elevator. And if he was the only one in this building who didn’t look at you like you were trash, it wouldn't hurt to accept his offer. Could it? 

“Sure, I'd like that.” You replied softly and he let you in. Your eyes widened at the sight of his apartment that was easily triple the size of yours and had multiple floors. It was difficult to believe this was in the same building, less right across from you. You had your little newfound money but this guy was definitely loaded. 

He led you into what looked like his study, a dark, minimalistic place filled with books neatly arranged in their bookshelves, a handful of framed diplomas and expensive furniture that appeared brand new from how little they must have been used. You took a seat on the leather chaise lounge armchair in the middle of the room, taking in the environment.

“Anything in particular you would like to drink?” Doctor Crane asked cooly. Fitting. He walked across to the well stocked small bar he had there, actually ready for anything you desired to drink.

“I actually don’t drink alcohol…” You started, and he was a little shocked for a split second before returning to his serious but oddly kind expression.

“Interesting… How about some tea then?” He suggested, and that suited you just fine. He asked you how you liked your tea then disappeared out of the room and into his kitchen, leaving you alone.

The dark foggy Gotham City skyline stared right at you from the big window, droplets of water ran desperately down the glass thanks to the hard rain outside, usual for this time of the year. As you kept clouding your mind with remarks about the weather, the vastness of the city and your neighbor’s way of living, he returned with your tea, sitting in the chair right across from you and handing you your cup.

“Sorry I'm not really dressed as fancy as you…” You apologized with a faint laugh, your simple tight v-neck long sleeve and your pair of black leggings stood out in comparison to his suited form.

Doctor Crane smirked very lightly, pale blue eyes analyzing your form as if he had just noticed it was there. Your neck, cleavage, visible nipples, thighs and legs laid under the microscope of his mind, and it was much more strange than the filthy looks of desire men would give you. Even in the strip club, with you barely clothed, you felt less exposed. You took a sip from your cup, hoping that the rich flavor would wash away the feelings that look from him provoked in you.

“I've observed you have a rather strange schedule… always coming and going late in the night…” His voice was so casual, so deadpan, as if he had only commented about the rain outside. You nearly choked with your tea. Observed?

“Well, my job just has different hours-“ You swallowed hard, playing the “pretend you’re not a stripper” game you sometimes played. 

“And what is your profession?” Crane insisted not even a second later, his crystal blue eyes bearing into yours and fanning the spark. You felt speechless, helpless. Why did he care so much? And why did you like it so much?

You took another sip of your tea, wondering just how appropriate it would be to tell the truth and weighing how hard it would be to upkeep a lie. Ultimately, you decided to be honest.

“I'm actually a dancer…” You said bluntly, preparing for the common shock the people you did tell always had upon their faces, and getting surprised when he showed none. There was an awkward pause in the silent and dark apartment only interrupted by the distant thunder outside. You continued to drink, your anxiety finishing with the rest of your tea and placing the empty cup on the coffee table, accidentally depriving you of something to fidget with. Your hands toyed nervously with each other in the dead silence for an eternity before he spoke again.

“Does being a whore fulfill you?”

Doctor Crane’s tone was so simple, so… Professionally mind blowing. You took a second to process it all. Nobody, absolutely nobody else would have ever gotten away with saying something like that to you. At least not without you telling them to fuck off. But for some reason that had everything to do with his voice, his eyes and his face, instead of anger, you felt your pussy fluttering beneath your leggings.

“I'm sorry… what?” You asked in an odd mix of shock, rightful offence and growing desire, unable to tell which feeling dominated. Crane, still so deadpan, leaned over, setting his cup next to yours on the table.

“I asked if being a whore fulfills you…  Dancing for old men and taking their money? Does that make you happy?” Once more, his voice was flat, medically sterile. For a moment, you weren’t a woman. You were one of the many cases he studied.

You squeezed your thighs together, maybe to remind yourself of your own humanity, and your own growing arousal. This mad man had really invited you to his house, let you sit on his fancy chaise and invited you a cup of tea just to degrade you on your face. And, instead of insulting him and defending yourself like you should have, you got wet.

“It's just my job…” That’s all you managed to utter, your energies too busy keeping the rest of your body in check. Doctor Crane nodded, an obvious habit from his consultations. 

“Do you have a relationship with your father?” He asked simply, his voice deep, not even a hint of mockery, just brutal, raw, unasked-for seriousness, and perhaps, judgement. 

“That's a very rude thing to ask…” You whispered defensively. 

“It’s really not if you do have one, which I'm assuming by your answer you don’t… Do you think that’s why you enjoy dressing in provocative clothing and dancing for men?” Crane asked, reaching over to touch your knee. You hated to admit, but his touch was electric. Just as dangerous as touching a wire with bare hands. Your pussy fluttered and clenched, your breath hitched and all the words you could have used to tell him off disappeared in your head.

There was another awkward silence in which his eyes didn’t stop looking into yours, drilling their way into your psyche. Crane smirked, as if he had actually gained physical access to it, and leaned in closer to you.

“I bet you’re already fucking soaking... I didn't even need to give you that aphrodisiac did I?” 

Aphrodisiac. 

Your head spun terribly and your heart pounded at the knowledge that he was absolutely right. Confused, nervous and horny you were. Dripping wet too. You looked down at your empty cup of tea in a futile attempt to find a trace of anything. Doctor Crane’s fiery hand slid up onto your thigh and interrupted your flimsy examination.

“What?” That was all you could muster.

“I think, in my professional psychiatrist's opinion, you’re in need of some guidance and attention from a smarter, older man…” His smooth, attractive voice pooled into a warm wet patch on your thong. Your mouth hung open slightly, watching him blink as the pieces fell together in your mind. The packages delivered straight to your apartment door, the last one being his, the insistence of getting you something to drink, the passing comment about observing you… He had set everything up to therapize you. To crack your mind open. And when he had you at your most vulnerable, when all of his uncomfortable questions and the tea had you under his thumb, to inevitably fuck you…

Testing you, Crane pulled his hand away from you, reveling in the little whine you made at the loss. He stood up and stepped right in front of you, his crotch on your face and his finger tilting your head up to meet his intense, serious gaze. Not knowing how much was the effect of the aphrodisiac and how much was your own desire, you felt butterflies for his sexy imposing presence, for the tiny smug smile he gave you and for the way he held his thumb to you before uttering the word: “Suck…” as a soft but serious command. 

Craving the approval, you mindlessly wrapped your lips around his thumb, letting the pad of his finger rest on your tongue before starting to suck gently.

“Good girl…” he murmured, and it felt like a hit of a drug. The most addictive, altering feeling of your life.

“You know, I’m rather picky when it comes to my women. I think with my help you could be the perfect little wife. You’re much too pretty for that club…  And I think you know that…” The more he spoke, the more you rolled your tongue over his thumb. You hummed in agreement, visions of you bathed in his attentions and riches making your cunt clench.

Crane pulled his thumb out of you with a sticky pop sound, running the tip over your bottom lip. He gave you a sly smile, his serious demeanor slipping a bit and revealing just how turned on he was.

“Get naked for me doll…” He rasped and you nearly moaned in anticipation. Who were you to deny him or disobey him?

With your head still reeling and the aphrodisiac coursing through your system, you pulled your shirt over your head, your tits bouncing free for his eyes to devour. He loomed over you, his cock ached in his dress pants at such perfection. 

Intently, he visually traced every contour of your naked torso as you laid back on the therapist chair and slipped your leggings off, losing them somewhere on the pristine wooden floor. Crane enjoyed the show, sitting on the edge of the lounge as your most devoted audience. Blue eyes raked over the pink lace of your damp thong and he felt the urge to do something with his hands. His calloused touch slid up your legs, mapping out his new, soft, warm possession.

Your heart beat out of your chest and through the delicate folds of your pussy, begging and pleading for contact.

“I said naked…” Crane repeated a little sternly, deciding to not trust you to comprehend a basic order in your state and doing it himself. He took hold of the pink lace covering your core and ripped it, pulling the now shredded fabric off your body.

You gasped softly, unable to hold back a moan. Your body was buzzing in anticipation and reeling under the influence. You needed him. Badly.

“Much better…” He purred in satisfaction, gazing into your eyes with a burning desire. Calloused hands pushed your legs apart and examined just what he had gotten.

“God you’re just dripping…” It was a whispered, slightly needy observation that betrayed the seriousness of his actions. You had a wet, delicious, hot cunt that invited him to touch, to part your pretty folds to get a good look at your aching hole.

“Please…” You whispered, if not begged, speaking for the first time in ages. Crane smirked triumphantly, he had you at his perfect mercy and he couldn’t feel prouder. He responded to your plea by leaning over you, chest to chest, and capturing your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Your arms wrapped around him for dear life, one of your hands plunged into his soft brown hair and took in the feeling of him, of his warm tongue slipping in slowly against yours in a sensual dance, of his hand that came up to cup your breast and roll your nipple. After a minute, he pulled back, leaving you breathless and looking up at him like a begging puppy. It was a perfect sight. Crane cracked a smile, soothing you with a caress to your cheek.

“God you’re beautiful…”

He whispered, almost fooling you into believing he had slipped out of the cruel dominant demeanor he had shown up to this point. The aphrodisiac, the praise and your own attraction to him had you reeling and buzzing for a second, and that was enough to drive you wild.

“Flip over…” Crane commanded. “On your knees, bent over and ass out for me…” 

Immediately, you did as he said, eager to please. It was not the most comfortable of positions, with your head turned to the side, your cheek against the cold leather backrest and your hands clutching the frame of the chair, but in all honesty, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be fucked, and soon. 

Crane groaned a bit, moving to adjust himself behind your tempting flesh. Both needy holes bare and on display for him to use however he wanted. One of his knees rested on the lounger behind you and one foot got planted on the floor for stability.

Without warning, you felt his hand come down on your ass. Hard. You yelped, then moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure deliciously and making you desperate for more. It was a whole miracle your pussy wasn’t dripping down your thighs and onto the fine leather at this point.

Another hard smack. This time on the other cheek to make it sting equally. You stifled out a whimper with a bite to your lip, catching the sound of his belt coming undone then followed by the zipper of his pants. You nearly shook in anticipation the longer he took to fill you up, and you started to believe he was deliberately toying with you. His large hands then grabbed a greedy handful of each asscheek, spreading them apart to get a good look at both holes.

“Please, Sir…” You finally got the courage to whisper, driven by your need. You wouldn’t be able to take any more foreplay, it felt like it could kill you.

He smiled to himself at the little “sir” that left your pleading lips, and while he didn’t respond with words, you felt the tip of his cock slowly rubbing back and forth against your sticky wet folds just to tease you. Taunt you. He covered his tip in your perfect slick and made you moan, but he held back the pulsating need to slam into you. 

“You want me?” He asked huskily and simply so you could scream, obviously aware that you needed him. But he wanted you to say it.

“God yes…” You whined back to him, already out of breath. You tried to push back against him in hopes to get the tip to slip in, completely desperate for his cock. 

Then, you felt his palm coming down on your ass for a third time, the slapping sound echoing through the study and its high vaulted ceilings just to remind you of how much of a slut you were for this man. Desire and whatever it was that composed the aphrodisiac coursed through your veins .

“I’m going fuck the whore out of you…” He sneered and without another word, his thick cock slammed into you in one go. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, nearly blinding you. You let out the loudest, whiniest moan for him yet, unable to even process just how good his perfectly curved long cock hit parts of you you didn’t know needed to be hit…

His hand gripped your hip possessively, giving you no time to adjust to him as he started to piston his hips into you. As if you needed it, you were dripping wet. 

“Oh fuck- holy fuck-...” You whimpered and babbled absolute nonsense. Crane was fucking you stupid and drilling the obscene sounds of skin slapping and your pussy squelching into your mind. So filthy and erotic, you could even hear him grunting and groaning in a loss of composure. He couldn’t help it, not when he was balls deep inside this greedy slutty cunt after so much foreplay.

“This tight pussy’s getting fucked so good she’s talking to me… You hear yourself?” He asked, half satisfied, half degrading. It was like it fucking disgusted him yet it ignited him. Words failed you, all you did was moan over and over with his thrusts as a response.

“I think she knows exactly who she belongs to…” He cooed condescendingly to you, his hand coming down and spanking your ass again, leaving a sting that transformed into pleasure in its wake, adding to your already building orgasm.

“You…you… I belong to you!” You cried out stupidly, fucked so deeply, so thoroughly. His cock hit that special spongy spot inside you again and again, some drool threatened to spill down the corner of your lips from how mindlessly he was plowing you. He had really managed to erase every thought in your head, every single one except him.

“This pretty little asshole keeps winking at me…  She’s begging for my attention…” He grunted, his balls slapping against your neglected clit as he drilled into you. You babbled incoherently at his words, already so fucked out and you had’t even come yet.

You heard him gather saliva in his mouth, then, a hot wad of spit hit your asshole, you whined in response. Crane’s hand reached down until his thumb was spreading his spit around your puckered hole and pushing it into your ass.

“Ffffuuuck.” You moaned loudly at the new sensation. The burning tension of your building orgasm threatened to boil over any time now. “P-please… I'm gonna come…” You begged so sweetly, desperate for a release the harder he pounded. 

Crane’s hips then came to a stop, completely neglecting your orgasm. You felt like you could cry. 

“If you want it that badly, you can fuck yourself on my cock…  Work for it doll…” He said sternly, pulling his thumb out of your ass and making you whine. 

Immediately, you started to bounce yourself on his cock, throwing your ass back at him like a pathetic whore. It was a feast to icy blue eyes, following closely how his cock slipped in and out of your tight, wet, hot pussy. The sensation became so good he couldn't hold back a groan of pleasure that sent his head back.

Air barely filled you agitated lungs the more you bounced yourself, chasing and earning your orgasm with desperation. You could tell he was close too. You felt it from how his thighs flexed and by the grunts he made. He would never admit such a filthy weakness like that out loud however. 

A few more hard blows landed on your ass as you bounced his cock on him, making you clench hard every single time and moan like the whore he was trying to fuck out of you. Crane was even moaning himself, music to your ears and cunt.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, equally desperate. 

“Fuck me- flip over… I have to see that pretty face when I come deep inside you…”

Thank fuck. A smirk grazed your lips at the audible desperation in his voice. You turned over onto your back, meeting his handsome face again, his hair was now a little disheveled and his forehead glistened with a little sheen of sweat. His long, painfully hard cock was coated in your arousal, and you groaned at the sight, finally seeing it after only having it inside. Crane scooted closer, pushing back into you with ease and wasting absolutely no time. 

You bit your lip gently, looking up into his intense crystal blue eyes when you moaned in unison. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, spread them and pushed them up into your chest until he had you at a perfect angle, hitting the deepest parts of you. Your mouth fell open and your eyes closed just as he started to pump his hips into you, picking up speed until you couldn’t hold back loud whiny moans.

He reveled in the way your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, a smug smirk forming between heavy breaths. 

“You fucking like that?” He groaned to you, making you nod frantically to the rhythm of your squelching pussy.

“This pussy is just begging me to come so deep…” His voice gave away just how little he would last. Your mind reeled at his words, at his serious and harsh personality slipping away to reveal how much he loved the feeling of you.

The pressure of your orgasm tightened in your lower abdomen as he fucked you unforgivingly hard and deep. You wouldn’t last much either.

“Please… I'm-I’m gonna come...” You whimpered, so pathetically fucked out, unable to hold it back anymore. His hips fucked you on autopilot and he smirked.

“Come for me doll…” He cooed to you sensually and that was all it took. Your orgasm ripped through you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Fireworks went off in your brain and your body trembled in the deepest, most needed pleasure. Your wet pussy tightened around him with greed, your back arched off the chair and your eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh my God!” You cried out to him, your legs shaking as he fucked you through it. 

Crane looked down at you in amazement, his jaw hanging open and allowing heavy breaths to escape him. It was truly the best pleasure of your entire life, the junction of his devilish beauty, your need and the last rush of the aphrodisiac making you wild. He felt you milking his willpower out of him, he had no way to resist, to keep up the front.

“Jesus-“ That was all he could muster to say. A deep loud groan resonated in the study as he gave into the intense pleasure. Akin to you, something he had never felt before.

Dizzy and mind blown, he leaned over you, his sweaty forehead against yours as his hips finally came to a stop. His cock pulsed and filled you deeply with his load, drowning your cunt in him.

You both panted heavily, hot breath mingling and hitting each other’s faces until recovery from the hardest orgasm of your lives finally came. A curious, tentative hand came up to touch his cheek with newfound softness. You smiled a little, his eyes softened in a rare moment of tenderness until his lips found yours. The soft kiss soon turned into a slow, sensual makeout. His tongue slided against you sending a flood of tingles all over you.

Crane pulled back after a minute or two of melting onto you, moving back into his position and keeling between your legs. You watched in complete devotion how his half flaccid cock left your sated heat, leaving you so empty without him inside. 

“Mmm, look at that…” He marveled, inspecting your puffy abused folds as his cum dribbled slowly out of you, his middle finger caught it and pushed back inside you. You moaned at the feeling, watching intently.

“I think with the proper training and sessions like these, you’ll be the most lovely little wife…” He practically cooed to you, and it became your life mission. Your heart swelled with the idea, no matter how demeaning it was, you were under his spell even though the aphrodisiac had completely worn off  by now.

The man you wanted to please the most flashed you that perfect smile, pulling his finger out of you just to offer it to your lips. You happily obliged, sucking it clean with your gliding tongue and humming at the combined taste of you.

“You’ll stay here tonight…” He commanded quietly, and you agreed right away, your obedience and devotion coddling to his already inflated ego. He had looked far and wide for the perfect partner… Pet…. Wife… Who would have thought she’d move in next door?

“Your next session will be in the morning, you’ll show me how good you can suck a cock…” Crane’s hand stroked your cheek softly yet possessively, and despite how sexualizing and objectifying it was, all you could ever feel was excitement for what was to come in the morning. And every morning after that.

You could tell that it was just the beginning for you both…

-Pinterest board made by the lovely @fuckiingloser

-Fic playlist made by me.

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

[mrsmangi]

petition for violet please my love hehe

forever, always - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: violet - a daydream about the future - meaning: loyalty & faithfulness ♡ w.c.: 1.3k ♡ a/n: highly requested prompt, it's 2am. pls have mercy on me. i love you all. enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

You’ve always hated the question, “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” 

What a trap, you think. It’s a polite way for people to pry their dirty fingers into your business–your uncertainties. It’s not like you avoid thinking about the future (sometimes you feel like you think about it too much) but answering that question always feels impossible. Ten years is so abstract, after all. It’s too vast, too distant to feel real. Yet, here you are again, the question living in your head, free of rent. 

You look across the café table where Luigi sits, blissfully unaware of the chaos in your mind. He’s staring at the menu, brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers hover over the laminated options. You know he’s not actually interested in the coffees, not when the boy doesn’t even like caffeine. He’s scanning for something else: a tea, maybe, or a fruit smoothie. Something simple. His lips twitch into a pleased smile when he finally spots what he’s looking for. 

“They’ve got a chamomile blend,” he says, glancing up at you, voice warm. It reminds you of the way sunlight feels on your skin after a harsh, long winter. “What about you? Are you already set on something?” 

You raise your glass of water to your lips with a small smile. “Just the usual,” you reply, warmth grounding you in the moment. The café around you hums softly with conversation and the quiet clattering of cups, but none of it registers itself in your head. Not when Luigi looks at you like that, his attention is completely yours. 

“You’re staring at me,” he says, tilting his head slightly, bemused. 

“Just thinking.” 

“Dangerous,” he teases. He doesn’t push you, though, just watches you with a quiet patience. It makes you feel like you can tell him anything, like he’d hold your words carefully as if they were fragile and delicate. You feel understood and seen under his gaze alone. His head tilts once more, a silent invitation to speak if you’d like to. 

You do, but how could you even begin? The future feels like a fragile thing, one you’re afraid of vocalizing. Still, the thought of it remains, persistent and teetering on the tip of your tongue. 

“I think,” you start, words unsteady at first, but growing firmer as you continue to speak. “I’ve been thinking about what it feels like to be happy. Content. To have everything feel right in your life, even if it’s not perfect.” 

Luigi sets down the menu, eyes softening with curiosity. “Uh-huh.” 

“I don’t really have a plan for it or anything,” you continue, nearly stumbling over your own words. “It’s more like a feeling I have. I don’t know if I could ever really have that, but the idea of it is stuck in my head. It won’t go away.” 

“What do you picture when you think of that feeling?” he asks gently. 

“A house,” you blurt abruptly. He blinks, eyebrows lifting, intrigued. “A little one that we own together. It’s not too big, but it’s warm and cozy. There’s a garden in the back and it’s a bit overgrown, but we both agree that it’s still beautiful. You’d probably spend all your time out there, trying to tame it.” 

Luigi’s lips curve into a soft smile. He props his cheek up, fist rested against it, with his elbow on the table, gazing at you. “Sounds like a losing battle to me,” he says. 

“Maybe,” you reply, smiling. “You’d come in with dirt under your nails, and tell me about how you finally got the roses to climb the trellis, even though the weeds just won’t quit.”

“What about inside?” 

“Inside…” You pause, trailing off. “It’s a different kind of mess. We have bookshelves overflowing, little trinkets and postcards I’ve collected scattered everywhere. We have a record player because I told you how much I always wanted one as a kid and you bought one for me. You purposely buy vinyls with weird covers just to make me laugh. The walls are covered with little pieces of us. A lot of photos, some art. It’s not perfect, but it feels like it’s alive. Like it’s been lived in. Loved. And there’s always laughter,” you continue. Luigi leans forward slightly. You recognize something unspoken in the way he watches you, like you’re sharing something more important than just a daydream. “The type of laughter that makes your stomach hurt because you’re so happy, you don’t even care. It’s messy, but it’s ours.” 

 “It doesn't sound messy," he says. "It sounds wonderful. Is that where you see yourself in 10 years?”

There it is, you sigh internally. That dreaded question. You’ve spent so much time resenting it, the way it forces you to confront how little you have figured out about your life, how impossible it makes it feel to predict the kind of person you’ll be then or the kind of life you’ll live. Sitting here with Luigi, you wonder if maybe you’ve misunderstood the question all this time. Maybe it hasn’t always been a test, but an invitation–a chance to dream aloud, to let yourself want something even if you don’t know what the future carries. You’ve always been afraid to answer because it feels like committing to something intangible and fragile.

His hand covers yours suddenly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. You glance up at Luigi, his unspoken patience pulling you out of your thoughts. The weight of his hand in yours feels like a lifeline to you, something solid holding onto you in the middle of your uncertainty. And suddenly, the question you’ve disliked for so long doesn’t feel like such a trap after all. 

Luigi makes you feel like your answer doesn’t have to be perfect, and it doesn’t have to include every detail of your imagination. It only has to be yours. For the first time, it doesn’t scare you and it doesn’t feel like an impossible demand. 

“I don’t know,” you admit to him, honestly. You glance down at your joined hands, curling your fingers to interlock with his. “I don’t know where I’ll be in ten years or the kind of life I’ll lead or the kind of person I’ll be.” 

You pause, lifting your gaze to meet his, words spilling out of you before you can second-guess them. “All I know is that I want you there. Forever, always.” 

Luigi blinks, surprise flickering across his face before his expression softens, lips curling upward. It’s tender. His thumb brushes over your knuckles again before he speaks. 

“Forever, always?” he repeats, like he’s testing the words in his mouth to make sure they feel as solid as they sound. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I don’t know where I’ll be living or what I’ll be doing, but if I have you…I think I’ll be okay. Better than okay–I will be happy. Content.” 

His lips curl further into a smile so genuine it makes your chest ache. “I think I can promise you that,” he says, voice steady. “Forever, always.” 

“You can promise me that?” you laugh quietly, tilting your head. “You don’t think I’ll drive you crazy in ten years?” 

“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head gently. “I’m sure you will, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you’re the kind of crazy I don’t ever want to live without.” 

You don’t find it in yourself to look away from him. For the first time in your life, the future doesn’t feel like a vast, unknowable, daunting thing–it feels manageable, hopeful. Beautiful, even. No matter what happens, you know one thing is for certain: you want Luigi by your side.

“Forever, always,” you repeat, the words rolling off your tongue like an oath. With your hands intertwined with Luigi’s in the small cafe you sit in, the world has never felt so right. The question you’ve hated for so much of your life feels like an open door now–all because of him. It’s a chance to step into something messy and imperfect and entirely yours with the love of your life.

[mandy-asimp]

Cards and Clay

Lilia Calderu x Potter! Reader

Summary: you move into town and start a new pottery place, you bring in much business and are pleased with your tiny living. Or so you think that's what's happening.

Warnings: language, smut (leaving this simple so you get the surprise), teasing, pet names, lemme know if I missed anything?

A/n ~ bye chat this is lengthy. I mean it. I was being honest when I said I love plot procrastination to the smut. But shiii I got it done🙂‍↕️

You just finished your first full week of your own pottery shop. It was honestly becoming a dream come true. You rented one of the newer apartments about ten minutes down the road, which was when you could tell the whole area was in need of renovations. Yet, with enough media promotion and the help of your friends, you managed to put a name on the map.

The weekend was ahead, and it would be busy for the Saturday lessons you offered. They would begin around eleven, giving you plenty of time to sleep in and even set up.

You were basically done cleaning up, the last thing was to rotate everything in the kiln. Which would've been completed, until the bell at the front door rang. "Oh! Sorry, we're closed!" You had called from the back, wiping the pottery off your hands onto the apron. By the door stood a curious-looking lady. Her hair pinned up and the curls fell down freely, some framing her face. Her eyes. Those were the next thing you had taken in. They were big, brown, and full of adventures you were for sure of it. They dropped against your body and you found yourself standing straighter and at attention.

"Can I help you?" You gave her your sweetest customer service voice possible. Hands coming to clasp in front of you and your head tilted. A few stray hairs falling with.

"I wanted to come see what was dragging in the business. Just not during it being an open business." She flashed you a softer smile, one that you could let your guard down to just a bit.

So you did, your shoulders had visibly relaxed and your chest didn't feel as tight. "Oh! Well it's just me and a dream here." You chuckled, a hand at the back of your neck. "I live in the apartment right down the street as well so I'm practically always here."

"I'm in the tarot shop across the street, so I know what you mean. This is cute, a nice addition I'd say." She hummed out, eyes roaming the space once more with a finger wagging in the air. You lightly laughed and held out your hand, giving her your name with a welcoming smile. "Lilia Calderu, how did someone like you get here anyways?"

"Like I said, me and a dream here. I went to college for a business degree, learned how to run a company, minored with an art degree. Work in between all that. All because I had a dream and gave my trust to the universe and here I am. My dream come true." You rambled a bit about yourself, knowing you could go deeper into all of it. But it was the simple version of your life.

Lilia enjoyed the way you spoke so passionately about something. She had forgotten how pure some people could still be within this grueling world. "It's nice to know some people still dream."

"Saying you don't dream?" You raised a challenging brow and crossed your arms. "You don't have something that keeps you going everyday even though the world sucks?"

"You sound so generic," she scoffed with a sly smirk. "I'm long past the dreaming age anyways. I've gotten content with my solo life. But you keep dreaming. I should get going though, it was nice meeting you."

You nodded slightly and watched her go. Standing like a mannequin until she opened her shops door. Once she was inside, you sighed happily and got back to work.

As for Lilia, her night concluded with her fiddling with cards as you seemed to run around in her mind. She felt silly if she used the cards in such a childish manner. Even when she groaned and placed the deck back down to the table. What was it about you?

~

A few weeks had rolled by and you had began a steady pace with work. Along with building deeper relationships with your students. A particular group you enjoyed was with Agatha, Alice, and Billy. They always knew something about someone.

You once asked them about Lilia, silently curious about the woman across the way. "She's been here ever since I could remember." Agatha started the talk. "She lives alone over there. In the back of her shop."

"She's gay. I can tell you that as well. There's no way she isn't." Billy pitched in. The fact earned him a silence and stares. "I went over there once for a reading. She's one weird, but sweet lady really."

You eyed Alice, she sat silently while working with her clay. "You got anything to add Alice? Anything I should be aware of?" You brushed your hair off your nose, getting a little bit of clay on your cheek.

"She's a quiet lady. I've never had trouble with her." Her eyes were focused to the spinning wheel, like she physically couldn't meet your gaze.

"Alice slept with her." Agatha snorted. Inflicting a heavy blush to the other as her head shot up and she began to deny the accusation.

You and Billy were left to witness the debate while trying not to holler with laughter. "It's ok anyways! Everyone's got their own thing. Whether you did or didn't, she seems nice. Except her shop is always dead. She gets maybe one or two customers if she's lucky?"

"Watching your new crush?" Agatha finally turned to tease you. Wiggling her brows and making kissy faces at you.

Your head shook and a smile was there, "hardly could say I have a crush. She an old lady who lives by herself, so what if my mind can't help to wonder if she's lonely. Anyone would. I just hope nothing bad happens." You finalized, pouring the rest of your focus into the yarn bowl you were attempting.

It wasn't until closing again that Lilia became your minds only focus. You were already set on grabbing take-out before heading home, and suddenly found yourself at her shops door knocking against the glass.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you waited. Maybe she was asleep, or busy...or maybe even out..wherever she was you thought up a million conclusions until the door opened. Lilia stared up to you with furrowed brows.

Your name fell from her lips in a whisper, "What are you doing here?" She searched briefly over your person to find an answer. Her posture had seemed like she had been caught of something.

"I couldn't help but wonder, if you'd care to join me for dinner? It's usually what I grab on my way home on Fridays and I figured since you hadn't left yours for a while maybe it'd be nice for a change?" You were wincing at your own words. It was a brave invite alone, and you didn't anticipate how effective her being this close to you would be.

Lilia stood in much looser clothing. Patchy pants that were a variety of dulled colors, it fit with the silky cover up that draped her shoulders. Her shirt was the darkest piece, the neck line dropping enough to expose her chest. And her hair was up in a messy ponytail again.

"How sweet of you, but I've already had my dinner. Maybe next time though doll, I'm sure you're amazing company." She bid you a goodbye and the door was closed again.

But for the next three weeks, she continued to decline your offer. Simply, the fourth week you left her with little choice. You knocked against her door and patiently waited like normal. Only this time when the door opened, you didn't wait for pleasantries.

"This is the fourth week. I would invite you, but I know you'll say no. And I know you haven't actually eaten because your house doesn't smell like cooking, not even thirty minutes before. One dinner and if I'm really that bad, I will never bother you again." You held the door from closing with your foot against the frame. "We can have it here and everything."

Lilia eyed you for a moment. You really were persistent with getting to know her. So..she sighed and opened the door further. Slightly grinning as you squealed before rushing in. The smell of good take-out wafting into the air.

Your body buzzed with excitement as you began to set everything on the table as she grabbed plates and glasses for each of you. Even as you finally sat across from her, you couldn't help the beaming smile that touched your eyes.

"You really wanted to have dinner with me?" She chuckled, being the first to start plating food. You eyed her wised hands before following suit.

Your head nodded, "a woman like you is alluring. I bet you have stories to be told and nobody knows them. I wanna know all of them." You missed her hesitation as she really eyed you now. Too busy putting noodles onto your plate.

"Well I do have a few. But what are they to you? Don't you know other people who can give you better stories?" She raised, knowing you had built connections with many people through your art. How deep you could take someone with a piece of clay and a conversation.

Your head bobbed in agreement, "I mean yeah I guess, but at the same time I've failed at many connections. Pottery is selective just like tarot is. I've heard the art stories and so on, but I haven't heard yours yet. So, what crazy adventures has Lilia Calderu been on?"

That night she had told you a variety of stories. The funny ones, the ones that put you on the edge of your seat and make you wonder how she managed, ones that were sad, all of them. As many as she could because finally, someone wanted to pay attention to her and hear everything she's accomplished.

The lingering fear of being forgotten soon seemed to cower into a corner with you around. She liked it. She liked this feeling of freeness. She liked not being alone suddenly. Even as her big doey eyes watched your cheeks burn pink from laughing so hard, she couldn't get enough of it.

"My my, Lilia!" You huffed down your giggles. "I knew I wanted to know your stories for a reason! You are a woman of many lives." You leaned against your hand as you stared at her. "I wish I could've lived that all with you, sounds so much better than an average k-12 childhood."

"You're telling me, the one with the pottery shop, was average? You made your dreams come true, didn't you?" It was her turn to shine the spotlight.

"Nothing special about me. Ran around as a kid. Hid in the closet once I figured out what it was. Came out, got told it was just a phase. And then I kept quiet mostly till I got to college. Explored, studied, graduated, job, dream job. That's basically it." You sighed, taking a sip of water.

"Mm, I never labeled myself. That's the thing with the younger generations, so desperate for a label." She rolled her eyes, then suddenly they were on you with a small challenge behind them.

"Sometimes a label makes them feel validated. Gives worth to something. Haven't you ever wanted a title?" You quirked a brow to her, her move.

"It's sad you need a title to have worth," she shot.

"Says Madame Calderu?" You dodged and returned fire, only not missing.

Lilia sighed and put her hands up in surrender. Chuckling out a "you got me" before crossing her arms again. "This was nice, thank you."

"Well it only took four weeks of perusing, but I think it was well worth it....why exactly did it take four week?" Your tone curved the outcome of the night unbeknownst to you.

"I had eaten those three other weeks. You caught me when I was behind on schedule." She attempted to turn down the topic nicely. She really had no excuse except she thought you were taking pity on her. Now she could see that that wasn't true.

"Ok and I own the Mona Lisa." You mocked, earning a kick under the table. It made your eyebrows furrow quickly. "What? Can I not call out bullshit when I hear it? If you're gonna lie at least lie to me better." Another kick. "Alright! Geez lady, gonna leave me all bruised."

"Good, maybe it'll teach you some manners." She cocked her head briefly. You laughed, throwing your head back with a wide smile.

Continuing as you started cleaning up the table. "I'll have you know my mother raised a well mannered woman! I graduated the nicest in class, so I speak for myself."

Lilia stood and grabbed at the plates, her hip bumping yours. "Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night."

You shook your head while putting the empty containers into the plastic bag. "I tell myself a lot of positive things before bed. Tonight it'll be complimenting myself for finally getting dinner with you." You turned to her with a cocky gleam.

The woman just squinted her eyes and sighed out. "You're an interesting one, ya know that? That average Joe crap doesn't suit you at all."

This time you let out a snort, a hand covering your mouth and nose instantly. "You're making me blush, Lilia! But truly, if I can figure out what interesting thing you see, I'll cut the Joe out."

"Anything named Joe should be cut out. Especially the men named Joe." She rambled only slightly. You hummed in agreement anyways, trying to stay serious with her. "I knew a Joe once, he was nothing good. Just caused me problems on problems. Had to bail him out twice before deciding enough was enough."

You smirked, "does that mean I can call you next time I'm in trouble?"

"As if you would get in trouble. You're a good girl there's no doubt about it. Matter of fact, I know why you really came." She lead you towards the small lounge area. Sitting in the chair facing the window and melting into the cushions. Missing the subtle pink on your face.

You sat across in the other chair, your back to the shinning moon. Although you got to see how the moon reflected against her. Highlighting the silver in her curls. "And what did I really come here for?"

"You've learned of something and you want to help me. But I can reassure you I'm fine. I will keep moving and settle somewhere else." She eyed you curiously, watching as your mouth opened and closed. You were caught. "I appreciate the thought though. It's nice to know someone's not forgotten me."

Your brows furrowed and you frowned. "Lilia you do know living is impossible in this day and age. I'm 35 and just moved out my parent's basement. Where are you really going to go? Not saying I doubt you or anything," you already knew where you were taking this entire conversation.

"I've managed my life this much. I can manage a few more years." She shrugged it down to a mere distraction. Only for it to eat an annoyed groan from across the way.

"You so have no plan and you're accepting that! That is like the worse plan of hoping things work out I've ever heard!" You couldn't help the need to express your opinion suddenly. Even though she had never even asked or told you for sure she was getting evicted. "What happened if you don't find anything? You're just gonna be homeless?"

She knew her circumstances weren't the greatest, but what was she really to do? "I'm sure I'll find something, worst case is an old people home. Don't worry so much about me, baby."

You couldn't help it though. Ever since she introduced herself to you, you couldn't help but worry about her. "I can't help it. You're here just alone 24/7. I hardly see you leave to even get groceries."

"You pay too much attention to my life then," she chuckled. You could tell it was in attempt to change the topic to something, anything else.

"Lilia. I'm serious." Your features rested as your eyes held all your emotions.

She stared at you for a long second. Just staring. The dark chocolate swirls of her eyes werwarmer than ever before in the moonlight. "What would you like me to do then?" She wasn't giving you any sass, it was her genuinely asking you.

You leaned forward, resting your arms on your thighs and you thought. Trying to think of anything you could possibly do to help her. It looked more like you were studying her carpet than thinking....your study. It was a spare bedroom, surely big enough for her. It's not even in the works, still a board of inspiration on Pinterest. She could come live with you. You make enough to cover and with the extra money you still have left over.

Lilia watched as it clicked into place for you. Seeing the glimmer of hope find its way to your eyes highlight. "I have an extra room." You began, raising a finger as she was about to speak. Her eyes widen, "you honestly have no room to argue. No rent, nothing. But in request you help at the shop sometimes?"

She sat silent, just hard staring you."You drive a hard bargain, you know that? You must do this often if you're this good at it." Lilia caved with a huff. You made a strong point anyways. "But you forget, the clay is all your thing."

Your smile was back, "I'll teach you! I'm closed on Sunday's, so it'll be the perfect day to introduce you to the shop and all the things you'll need to know. I won't make you do anything too hard, I promise." your hand extended over the coffee table. "Do I have a deal?"

Her eyes dropped to your hand, she took it with hers. "Fine, you have yourself a deal."

But you didn't really expect the outcome of the deal after a few months of it. You learned of Lilia's habits at home quickly. Like how she's very neat, but also loves a little bit of clutter. For example the tv stand is lined with her crystals and other tarot decks. She kept a specific one on the coffee table however, perfectly stacked and only she touched it.

Although, you couldn't help yourself one night. She had already gone off to bed and you had to do the order before you forgot. Your hands were delicate with them, scared that one touch would make the paper incinerate right before you.

They were what you assumed average. That was until you pulled your flashlight out to really look at the art work and paint. Each card was hand painted and sealed, the gold 'L.C' in the corner of them told you exactly who did it as well. She hand made her deck and just left them lying about like they were everyday cards.

It gave you the perfect idea for a birthday gift for her, seeing as the day was already a few days away. The topic of gifts hadn't come up at all, even when you did try and bring it up, she gave you practically nothing. Yet now you analyzed her personal cards and had to make a matching holder for them.

Your nights at the shop had begun to drag till almost eleven as you hunched over the dried holder. Painting details that matched to the cards, wiping them off after concluding they weren't perfect, only to repaint them. It was like this for almost two weeks. It was two weeks you hardly saw your roommate or even asked her to come in.

The Friday leading to her birthday, was the first time you'd been home at a reasonable time. Not that ten was any better, but when you unlocked the door and got in, Lilia was waiting with a wine glass in her hand.

"Look who's finally home." She was sarcastic about it. Like she was upset that this was another late night with no text, call, or explanation. "Two weeks and this is the first time I'm seeing you."

"You miss me?" The joke rolled from your tired tongue. You trudged to your room, placing your bag down and ridding of your day clothes into a black long sleeve and red plaid boxers. "I'm sorry, the shop has been really busy with the schools on break. Everyone's doing homemade gifts in class and then there's just the everyday pieces. I plan to have everything fired and ready for pick up tomorrow, then I'm closed for like three days."

"So you've been busy, I could've come to help. It is the deal." She got up to pour you a glass, except you just grabbed hers and took a sip. Her brown eyes stalked you talking a sip.

Your face contorted and you waved her back down. Getting up to get your own juice and pouring it into a matching glass. "It wasn't anything I couldn't have handled. Plus a lot of it was kiln work, I didn't teach you anything about Kit."

"Kit? Who's Kit?" Her brows furrowed as she took another sip. You both sat on the couch, you turned to stare at her fully with both legs crossed, while she had one leg bent and leaned against her fist to face you.

"The kiln. He's honestly the only man I would ever allow into my life. Except it seems that people don't take kindly to a kiln being picked over them." You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged. Really not hearing the issue even as Lilia laughed at you.

"You don't understand how a big oven being picked would offend someone? You do know what you look like and your personality right?" She raised that perfect brows. You loved when she looked at you like this, you knew it meant she was teasing you and meaning it with humor.

"I could look and act like anyone," you tilted the glass at her. "I don't know, maybe I like me and my ceramics. They can never really break my heart. It's easier to trust the Earths natural gifts than an unpredictable human with my heart."

"That's playing it safe, baby." She spoke so softly. Yet every word dug into your brain to the core. Lilia downed her glass and stood up, "I'm turning in for the night. Do you need any help at the shop with all the pickups?"

You knew you brought home hers, so she had no chance of seeing it early. "That'd be really nice, thank you. Have a goodnight, Lilia." You stayed on the couch as she headed for her door. Ignoring (attempting to) how sudden the couch felt without her.

~

The next morning you were up and making Lilia's favorite breakfast. Well...maybe not her favorite, she never outright said it. A lot of things you know of her are honestly from the context of her stories. It was working though, you always seemed to know your way with her.

"You're up early?" Her voice echoed into the kitchen space. She stood in her silk pajamas. They were yellow stripes but they suited her. "Cooking as well?"

"It's a thank you for helping me since it'll be busy today." You spun around, finding her leaning against the counter and staring at you. Yet, you couldn't figure out how she was staring. It was a look you've never seen before from her. "If you're too tired you don't have to."

"No, no...nothing like that. What are you making? Or attempting to make?" She brushed it off and was switching her stare to something more teasing and delightful.

Your nose scrunched up, "I'll have you know a wise woman once said she enjoyed my cooking in the morning. But if you must, it's French toast with cinnamon and strawberry frosting. Served cutely with a cup of coffee."

"Now you're spoiling me. Is it really gonna be that busy?" Lilia watched you plate the breakfast and serve her first. Giving her a show of garnishing. "You should hope you're wrong."

You smirked, knowing you weren't wrong. "And if I am, then this'll have been me spoiling you because I'm sorry I've been out late with no word." You hummed before turning to start your own breakfast. "It'll be nice anyways. Billy's been asking about you recently so he'll be excited to see you. So will Agatha, she doesn't verbally show her liking for people but it's in her actions and expressions sometimes. And her pottery, she really pours her emotions out. Alice also enjoys your company, she said you and Jen, that's her roommate though we all know they're together, would be good friends." You were rambling on about everyone suddenly. Telling her about everyone and how much they always ask about her. It carried you through the entire breakfast.

Lilia was left speechless. She didn't realize that many people knew about her and asked. Nor the fact you were the one they were always asking and you always had an answer. "Now you're just trying to flatter me."

"No! Really! When you come in they're gonna love seeing you! We should start getting ready though, I have a class starting earlier today and running later." You collected the plates and put them in the sink. Slipping away without another word to get into pottery clothes.

With the weather getting nicer you had settled for a light yellow long sleeve and a pair of art overalls. You had painted flowers from the splatters from projects. Slipping on your old boots and grabbing your bag. Leaving your hair in the messy clip you did this morning.

As you closed your door, Lilia's closed in time with you. Your head snapped around to her in a flowing skirt and a sweater filled with colors. Her curls were free, falling graciously down her back and you suddenly felt your heart stop. Your hand was at your chest, and you just played it to dusting your shoulder.

You hadn't said anything after seeing her then. Staying silent and scolding yourself to not gawk and drool over her. No matter how badly you could imagine your hands tangled in her peppered mane, along with the many reasons why. Your cheeks must've flushed cause Lilia was staring at you now worried.

You were in the middle of moving the paints and everything to the circle table in the sunlight. But you had stopped and were just staring out the window. Blushing from your own lucid thoughts.

"Your cheeks are warm and pink," her voice cut through. Her soft hands were on your cheeks before you had noticed, holding them for only a moment. Lilia glowed in the sun light. Just like she did in the moonlight. She was earthal. Universally beautiful. Day and night, never did she falter. A timeless beauty.

"I'm..I'm good. I just..don't worry." You managed out finally. It felt like the air was being vacuumed out your lungs. Your chest was beginning to feel tight. Is this what dying is? An angel to hold you while it all just goes warm and tingly? Or is this what love felt like? Were they the same thing?

Saved when Billy was soon the first to show up. You must be behind already. You're too distracted today. Asking yourself by what was a foolish move, you just couldn't grasp the reality of the cause.

"Oh Lilia! It's good to see you again! We've missed you around here." He greeted the lady with a hug before coming to settle at the table. "You should join our class for today, we're making a tea set this time. And since you guys live together you could divvy up the work."

"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose. I'm just here to help hand out the finished pieces." She waved a dismissive hand, much to your dismay. Even when she caught the sad glint take root in your eye, she stood by the front desk.

"I'm sure with a good towel and teamwork, you both could manage. Join us just for the day." The teen was persistent as he tied the apron around his body. "Come learn the juicy gossip this one spills in the circles."

"I do not spill any gossip! If anything it's Agatha who tells the most," you defended your name. A finger raised in the air, "and besides, I don't live a life to have anything!"

"Oh that's such a lie," Agatha had waltzed in. Her hair already pinned back and instantly found her seat at the table. "Just last week you had a fresher scoop on Dotti and her husband before I did. And I'm their neighbor!"

Lilia looked shocked to hear this, her eyes wide as they stared at you. "And what do you know about Dotti and her husband?" She challenged you.

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped. "Ok so, there's an update to them as well, from like yesterday morning. So to fill you in," you slowly sat down at your wheel.

Alice came in last finally, "we're already gossiping? I knew I was running late but not this late." She filled the empty wheel to your right. Making haste to get situated and get right in.

"We just started. We're starting with Dotti." You wiggled your brows.

"Oh! Did you hear about yesterday morning?!" You nodded your head. "Oh I heard the actual end of it, it sounded good so I'm ready." Alice sat, hands at the ready.

Your hands grabbed at the clay from the center, everyone following. "So I heard that he had forgotten their anniversary....again." You got lost in telling the details, some so itty bitty they questioned if you were actually there.

Lilia, from the front, listened and paid every ounce of attention to you when not helping a customer. She noted how relaxed you were in this setting. Eyes trained to the clay that span under your fingers, shoulders dropped, smile blooming as everyone talked. Overall, you seemed so at peace. She enjoyed watching you in this state.

"Yeah, Rio said she'd join one day." Agatha had spoken when Lilia tuned back in to the full conversation and not staring at you.

"We could do a little couples pottery! Alice and Jen, Agatha and Rio, Me and Teddy!" Then he turned to you and you could only throw your head back in laughter. "It's not funny! You've lived here long enough and still haven't tried dating!"

"Oh but that's not what I've heard." Agatha was the one to eye you now. Your face reddened when you felt her gaze burn into your hair. "Rumor is you're getting home late for two weeks?"

You shook your head, "officer no! It's not what you think!" You cried humorously before agreeing though. "Yeah, I have been. I've been busy here at the shop. Someone's gotta fire everything."

"Got any witnesses to back you up? Cause it gets juicier." Agatha continued, her eyebrow sharp.

You gasped, geneuinly confused on what's being said about you. "Oh my- what have people been saying?! Do people think I'm a...whore?" You whispered the title. Devastation written all over your face.

Lilia was dying to know where this was leading. This was her answer of if you really were here all those hours or you found someone young and they just kept you out all night. Being young.

"Oh they're thinking more than that. Recently Norm has been getting home around those hours as well....I'm sure the dots connect for you just like it does for everyone else." She eyed you, everyone was. "For him it's great, they think he finally found someone. For you though, they're saying it's settling."

You were cackling at that now. "Oh my God, no! I would never settle for Norm! Never! Who even started this rumor?" You couldn't help but to see the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Your eyes quickly, praying she wasn't already looking at you, jumped to Lilia. She was staring right at you. If you didn't tear your eyes away, you'd have spaced out but when you felt the blush sprinting up your neck you had to. It made its way to your cheeks anyways.

"I think it was Herb. He's always been close with Norm. Maybe he saw you go home late one time." She reasoned, her hands up as she finished her teapot, examining her own work. "It reminds me of Rio."

Alice chuckled, finishing her own pot as well. "Herb and Norm starting the rumor you slept with him honestly makes sense. Recently his mom and sister have been pestering him about bringing a girl around." She added.

"I don't think I've ever even talked to either of them outside this shop. This is why being the young, single, shop owner is a trap in itself. If I wasn't a young, single, shop owner they would've never even bothered. So next time you hear someone put dirt on my name, I'm going to need you to clean it for me." You pointed a finger to everyone. Making sure they really understood you were serious.

Billy huffed, "so does that mean no couples class?" He put his best puppy eyes forward. And to your surprise, Agatha and Alice had joined him in their own way.

You soaked in their pleading expressions, letting your eyes slowly wonder to the woman at the front. "Fine...Lilia will just have to be my partner for it. And she'll act like it's the worst thing she's ever done, but we all know I'm the best in town."

"Please," Lilia scoffed. "Just the other week you didn't understand why picking a kiln over a human was offensive." She handed out the last pick up for the day. Surprised that it was all gone before two. She had finally came over to see what was actually happening.

"First of all, he has a name. His name is Kit. Use it and respect it. Second, maybe people should be more understanding." You shrugged. "Alright, I say we each make at least four tea cups. They're the same as the bowls basically, but...cup shaped."

Billy waved in the air first. "No, hold on. We are not skipping that. I've first hand seen Rio try to flirt with Agatha when she's pissed off, but that takes the title for most embarrassing."

Your jaw dropped with a gasp. "Excuse me! It's not embarrassing at all!"

"It so is! You're literally hot and you're picking kilns over people? That's like the biggest case of looks being deceiving." He kept going. His hands moving around in dramatics. "Like you pull in with the great appearance, and then you pick...the oven. I bet it's something deeper. There's another reason you pick the kiln."

Agatha perked up, eyes instantly glowing. She was ready to poke at you. "Oh I bet there is. You make the kiln out of the bodies of your dates and that's why we never know who they are?"

"Agatha...what the fuck?" You used the ball of your hand to rub between your furrowed brows. "There is no deeper meaning on why I like my kiln over most people."

"Over most...there's someone you're after isn't there?" Her brown eyes bored into you, not letting you look to anyone for help. She held you hostage for an answer. "Oh there is. Who is it? Is it actually Norm?"

"No!" Your voice worked quicker than your brain. "No there is no one, and even if there was it wouldn't be Norm. Like I said, I would never settle with a man. I'm dedicated to women, have been since I was sixteen. Billy is the only one here who likes men anyways."

"You never let us poke fun at you." Billy sighed. His eyes bouncing up to Lilia. "Do you get to make jokes at home?"

In that moment, you turned up to see. A part of you wondering what she would really answer. Because in reality, you do let her make fun of you. Every day, any day if she wanted. If it earned you a smile or a laugh, you didn't care. You just wanted to see and hear her happiness.

"Every now and then I get a good one in. For two weeks I haven't made one though, someone's too busy sneaking around with Norm." Lilia made her point, her cunning smirk stared back at you.

You managed out a chuckle and shook your head, "I'm not sneaking around! Can I not just be a shop owner who was tending to her customers work?"

Alice was the one to answer, "that's too easy. You need a little spice on your name."

"No! No I don't! I like my life plain, it's never disrupted and is just there." You tried to defend, suddenly it seemed with Lilia next to you everyone was going to get a dig in.

"Yeah, except a plain life wouldn't involve late nights with no alibi." Billy pointed.

"So you really do have to be hiding something from us if you're trying to play it down." Agatha nodded along.

"I was here. I know it's the truth so believe it or not. I was here for two consecutive weeks firing and making things for people to just come paint. Because I'm starting that soon, instead of being just clay." You were insistent now, really just wanting to clear the two weeks.

There was a collection of hums, trying to decide if it was a good enough excuse or not. "And where are these pieces then?" Lilia nudged you. She hadn't seen any extra pieces in the back.

You were silent. Caught in your own lie. Usually, the three wouldn't have known what's in the back. You would've told them there, that you have a shelf near the kiln to put them all on. But Lilia had been back there. She's seen what's there and what was not there.

"Oh..seems like you've been put in the hot seat. How do you plead now?" Agatha's eyes raised to find you with rosy cheeks and trained to your own hands.

"Not guilty." You mumbled. "I'm dropping the topic." The three groaned but let it go anyways. Leaving the rest of the class to random talks about what's been happening in their lives, minus you as they seemed to already know.

And the topic never came back up till it was just you and Lilia in the shop. With the sign on the door reading close and each cleaning in different areas. You in the back putting in the pieces from today and then going to wipe down and wash the tools used.

"So...if you've been sneaking around," she raised. Holding back her laugh as you groaned. "Well you were the one who was caught in a lie."

"Yeah cause I didn't think you'd air me out like that! I really have been here. You know I don't like men, I've stressed that, so it's not even realistic. I've been here just working honestly." You sounded more defeated, maybe it was cause you were tired as the sun slowly started setting. "Why does it bother you so much, even if it was me sneaking around?"

Lilia was suddenly next to you, her lips pressed together. She was biting back her true answer and now you knew how it felt to not know the truth. "If you're sneaking around, it means it's not for the public and you just deserve better than that, that's all. I want you to be happy and well taken care of."

"I am happy. I am also well taken care of. I have no purpose to sneak around with anyone. If I was, you would've known of them by now. But there is nobody. I don't need anyone else," your sentence fell off and remained incomplete. there was a moment where you both just stared in silence. Like you both knew that there was something being unsaid. "We should finish up and get home. I haven't had a night at home in ages." Her curls bounced in agreement. Leaving your side and going back to the front, wiping down a few more tables.

~

When you got home, you could only sigh. The day had finally caught up to you and you wanted nothing but out of your clothes. Lilia seemed the same way as she had instantly disappeared into her room. At first that's what you really did believe, expecting her to come back out within five minutes to have a drink with you.

You chose something simple, a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low and the same long black sleeve from the other night. Finally letting your hair down and washing your skin from all the clay that still was on you. Feeling incredibly refreshed for the night.

You left your room, sliding in socks to the kitchen. Pouring two glasses, one red and the other juice. You couldn't help but giggle at how childish you seemed drinking fruit punch out a wine glass, mocking the wine glass that was clearly darker. Lilia had joined you only a few seconds later, wearing your shirt and pajama pants.

You pulled your legs together and stared at her. "So..your birthday is tomorrow. Got any plans? Anything you want?" You started, taking the first sip as well.

"Little late to be asking about a gift, don't ya' think?" She leaned back to fully look at you, head propped against her fist. You've realized how natural this is, how easily you both fall into this exact spot night after night.

"That's you assuming I didn't already get you something." You hummed, wiggling your brows a bit. "Anything you want to do?"

"I haven't celebrated a birthday in ages, I don't think I'll start now. But thank you for the thought." She went to shut down the topic, but your facial expression was unsatisfied. "I'm sorry, its just another day for me."

"Boo!" You gave her two thumbs down in her face. Pulling them away before she could swat them down, the sound of your laugh gracing the air. "Well, luckily for you Lilia Calderu, I have a special day planned for you that is the perfect mix of relaxing and spoiling." You beamed, proud of how well you managed to keep everything quiet till now.

The older woman only shook her head. "Baby, we really don't have to celebrate it. Really." Your stomach did flips at the pet name, the blush on your cheeks reddening just slightly. It seemed once you realized your hearts desires, you couldn't conceal anything anymore.. "Anyways, you've done enough for me this year than needed."

"That's because I wanted to do those things. You think I stood outside your shop in the cold because I needed to? I did it cause I wanted to know you. And now that I know you, I want to do something meaningful for you. Also it's a day to celebrate my favorite roommate, so yeah..we're celebrating tomorrow." Your eyes were everything of warm and giving. Lilia enjoyed this stare, how you treated her so well.

She caved, "Alright, what do you have planned? Pottery at the shop?"

You audibly gasped, "Lilia do you think that's all I know?!" You were so happy here. "I planned a late morning so you can sleep in, so I can sleep in, and then I'll make your favorite brunch. After we're going to that one show you had mentioned wanting to see, but eating dinner before because it's not till 8. Everything would be closed by the time we got out. To finish, we'll do presents before bed."

"That is quite the day planned. Is there a limit to how late we're sleeping in? And what say do I get in any of this?" She wasn't objecting to anything, so you figured you had done well. Now everything just had to go as well.

Your head shook left to right, "no ma'am. Sleep as late as you want. It's brunch for a reason. And as for what say you get, you can have all the say, I just made the plan." Your hands were in the air surrendering all power to her.

~

While you had woken up first and began cooking, you wore boxers and the same black long sleeve. Shaking your hips at the song in your head. Something about today told you that it was bound to be so much better than what you had prepared.

Today you woke up and told yourself you would hint at your feelings. Leaving it open for her to catch on in her own time, but you couldn't bring yourself to out right tell her. Not when you had no idea if she could ever reciprocate those feelings. Yet, you danced while making the perfect breakfast for you and her to share.

Your mind couldn't help to focus on her though, subconsciously flipping the pancakes at this point.

Lilia was many things, you had realized this quickly, but your favorite word to tease her with was kooky. Sometimes even wispy. She always was mumbling different tarot cards to herself. You had played it down to a pull she did earlier or something that had a significance with the card. You also used those terms when she would be scolding you for some tiny mess you had left from either cooking or doing pottery out on the balcony. Those were your favorite times as well.

If it was just right outside and you had enough free time, you would work on new techniques and designs. Lilia would bring herself, a cup of tea leaves, and a blanket that would be wrapped over her legs. She would watch you work first, maybe for the most of ten minutes, before she emerged herself into the tea leaves. You never understood it either, you weren't in her world unfortunately. You knew nothing about tarot or tea leaves. She never let you in either, not like how you did her into your world of clay.

As much as it pained you to not see through her lens, you had managed to accept it and witness from the neighboring universe. You mostly enjoyed being her witness when she couldn't sleep and asked you to come sit in the living room with her. Even if it had been the most grueling day at work, you did. You pried yourself from the warmth of your bed and to the living room.

You were unaware of the many times you did fall asleep though. Lilia felt bad most those nights, yet she needed your presence to ground her from it all. All the crazed times she travels through. But it wasn't till the first time you had came out and laid your head in her lap, so exhausted you didn't even fight it and just slept on her lap that night. Her hands pulled the lovers card as well that night.

"You're making pancakes?" Her voice cleared your thoughts instantly. Especially when you whipped around to see her. Lilia had her curls free from all maintenance, sleep evident in her eyes as she yawned. She still was in your shirt.

"Do you not want pancakes, birthday girl?" You wore a teasing smirk already. Excited to celebrate her even more as she was awake. "I made chocolate chip ones, assuming that you liked them a lot the way you wolfed down three the first time I made them for you."

"Alright no need to be so cocky, baby. It's my day remember? Plus, you surrendered all control so I'd be nice if I were you." She fed your teasing right back to you. Finding a seat at the kitchen table, knowing you were already done in time for when she woke up. Her eyes followed you as you danced around the kitchen to gather everything and set the table. "Thank you," she hummed when you placed a perfect plate in front of her. "You really have stepped up your presentation skills."

"Only the best for you Madame Calderu." You glowed with her attention on you. Taking your own seat, you raised your glass of orange juice. "Happy birthday, Lilia." Lilia smirked at your antics but raised her glass anyways. Clinking the rim of her glass to yours.

It fell quiet for the first bites, the only sound that could be heard was Lilia moaning in approval at the taste of each pancake. A childish glimmer was in her eyes. "You know how to make a girl feel special." She praised you as she continued to eat. You only giggled and let the silence return as you also ate without much to say.

Even while you cleaned up, it was silent as Lilia stayed at the table and watched your every move. You were overly aware of that fact as well. "Can I ask you a question about your pajama choice?" It wasn't what you were expecting, but you nodded anyways. "It's a mix of very feminine pieces, like silks and pinks, while other times it's this almost masculine? What's that all about?"

"Most of my clothes are the ones from my exploring as a twenty year old who didn't know what type of gay was the right one yet. So I went between being hyperfeminine and masculine to see who was right for me. Eventually I gave up because it seemed it was never me, but more so who I was with. I didn't like that idea of changing my appearance for others though. I kept a mix of it all because in the end I'm gonna be gay, so what do my clothes matter?" You had rambled a bit, being honest about the evolution of your wardrobe. "Does it bother you?"

"No...no, I was just intrigue. I do your laundry and sometimes it really does look like you have a man here whose clothes I'm always washing. I can see why people think you and Norm were happening." She smirked behind the rim of her mug.

Your head had whipped around, a mean glare being shot from your spot. "I'm not sneaking with Norm! I have eyes for someone else anyways! So ha!" You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Oh yeah? Who? Kit?" She scrunched her nose. Not giving you a chance to keep defending yourself by getting up to find a spot on the couch. Also, Lilia didn't want to hear about you having the hots for anyone that wasn't her. It awoke a green monster she hadn't seen in a long time. "Did you plan anything for the four hours between brunch and getting ready?"

You came over after finishing up, head shaking. "No, I figured id leave it open for you to decide what we do?" You sat closer than intended, the couching sinking under you and sliding you right next to Lilia. It would be rude to scoot away so you got yourself situated to be more comfortable. "Maybe catch up on the show you've missed the last few episodes of?"

"You'd really sit here and watch that with me?" She really was enjoying having you do whatever she wanted already. "You said last time, and I quote, this show doesn't even had good plot, the gayness is all portrayed wrong. No lesbian actually does that pose."

You glanced down to your hands then back to her. "For you Lilia Calderu, it seems I will do a lot of things. So if that is truly what you want to do, then I will sit here and suffer for your happiness." You sighed out defeat as she reached for the remote. "It really is not how any gay person would act, I want you to know that."

"Yeah? And how do they really act?" She turned to look at you, the first moment the brown was visible for you, your brain failed to comprehend. It was honestly a good example of a gay panic without intent. "Hmm, so I see." Her hand was on your cheek instantly following. Her eyes darkened just slightly as she searched your features.

"See..see what?" You so dumbly managed, completely in this woman's trance. Never wanting to leave it though, all her focus was you and she just saw you.

Although, she flashed you that smile and the conversation was dropped as the show began playing. Her attention no longer on you but on the screen. There it stayed for the next few hours, never breaking away. Well you wouldn't know as you caved into the body heat Lilia radiated and fell into a small nap on her shoulder.

Lilia however refused to wake you until four, lulling you into a deeper state of sleep by playing with the few strands that weren't clips back. But surely she had taken it out to really play in your hair, nails scratching over your scalp as you pushed deeper into her side. A hand throwing itself over her lap was the sign you were actually deep asleep. How long had you been up for you to be this tired naturally? The day had hardly started.

Yet, by five-thirty both of you stood by the doors to your bedrooms gawking at the other. You, in a baby pink mini dress, the back was a corset and a big bow right atop your butt. A simple white short cardigan covered your arms and white chunky heels dawned your feet. Tying everything together with an assortment of jewels and metals. Lilia, in plaid wide legged pants that flowed nicely, it was assortments of yellows and blues over a deep maroon. A plain white button up and a mustard yellow jacket that complimented with the pants. She must've been wearing some platform on her boots as she stood only slightly taller than her average days.

You smiled and your cheeks warmed when she returned it. "You look nice," you made the first step towards the door. Picking up your keys and opening the door for her. "M'lady," you bowed and gestured out.

"You look lovely as well, baby. I could almost tease you all night long while you look this cute." Huh? Had you heard her right? There was no time to question it once she was out the door, looping her arm with yours as you began to talk down. "So where is dinner?"

You slightly smiled, still caught on her previous statement. "It's a little place Billy and Alice both suggested. We told Agatha to not give her opinion after she suggested Starks. That woman and her...Rio are the finest dinners I've ever met. But it's still nice and up there, just more affordable."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine." She hummed. Her approval seemed to be something you were always constantly chasing, stressing yourself for it to the days end. You loved when she thought you did a good job. It at some point began to tickle a need and drive in you, even if you were unaware.

And the dinner was fine, actually it was almost perfect. You had known they served Sicilian specialties, which made Lilia ecstatic to try and compare them to her own cooking. Maybe you should start learning more dishes to cook.

You did let her pick your meal, seeing as you were oblivious to what half of the items tasted or even looked like. It was how you asked that stirred the shift. "Lilia...can you order for me?" You were so shy about asking her. It was such a childish thing to do, when you could've looked it all up, but she was there and knew how each one should taste.

Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her brown earthal gaze was full of mischief and mysteries. "Aww, the lil' chef out her comfort zone? Don't worry, I've got you baby." Lilia beamed anyways and glanced back to the menu. Leaving you to sit dumb and pretty.

The way her lips formed the pet name was enticing. Calling you closer when they pressed together, but pulling back when you did lean in. The deep red was perfect for her. It complimented her every shimmer of her eyes when she got lost in the topic with you.

Lilia called you 'baby' a lot more during the dinner after you had asked her as well. You squirmed in how you slowly felt yourself slipping further and further into her. The worst part about it was the fact she knew what she was doing. Her faux worries of, "baby are you ok?" Or if it was her hand grabbing yours and saying, "can I do anything to help?" Her fingers tracing into your palm, more specifically her middle and ring finger pushing them into the skin.

The server was your savior for the night, coming by frequently to give you time to collect yourself from Lilia. Trying your absolute best to pull your brain back to this planet. Especially when they brought out the little slice of cake with a candle.

The sight of it sobered you up thankfully. A goofy grin shinning from your glossed lips. "Happy Birthday Lilia," you were sparkling like the flame. This was the moment you waited for all night. To see the hidden child finally be celebrated. To see a woman to finally be celebrated for holding on. To see Lilia being celebrated for just being herself.

She felt the world disappear as she blew out the candle. Feeling the wave of appreciation you sent her way as the smoke swayed into the air. "You really are the sweetest, ya' know? Always taking care of me, from the very start. I knew there was something to you."

You weren't quite sure what that meant but you gave a nervous laugh. "I just know when I like someone I guess. I care about the people I like. You're one of those people. You always will be." Your emotions were mixed within your words and they invaded your eyes.

Lilia let her hand return to your cheek, "you make me feel special when you look at me like that."

It was the perfect opening, "it's cause you are. You've been special...and kooky." You teased her back finally. Her eyes narrowing just slightly at you, her hand falling and retreating. But you grabbed it and held it for a second, "I mean it. You are special Lilia. I've been trying to get you to realize that." A weight had crumbled from your shoulders. Even if it wasn't a direct confession, it made you feel open enough that she had a grasp of the idea.

She sighed and focused on how your fingers played with her rings. Your touch was soft and precise. She should've known that though, with how you work with clay and design such intricate shapes, of course you had skilled hands. "You might be the only one who thinks that much of me."

"Good, only I can think of you." It came flying out quicker than you noticed. Once Lilia let out a rumbling laugh, you caught up.

"What? You wanna be my only baby or something?" The confidence she radiated made you feel hot. You put yourself in this situation.

If you backed down, you'd never know. If she said no, that she didn't feel the same, you'd be ok with that. You might spend the night crying and alone but that'll be ok.

"What if I do?" You tried to match her, not even coming close when she shifted more forward. Her canine teeth barred themselves to you. The light making them look sharper than you've ever noticed.

Her tongue darted out, catching your attention to those lips again. Your breathing picked up and you felt on the edge like you've never been before. It was a long drop, you knew that, but if you just got one kiss you'd happily fall. Hell, you'd full sprint off the edge while laughing hysterically.

You pried away and back to her eyes. They were now dark rivers in the night. Lust swimming around and creating little waves of reflected moonlight. This was a look you never knew could be real. "You wanna be mama's good girl don't you?"

The names. The look. Her touch under yours. It was earth shattering. Like everything you had built and had made was only the second important thing to you. The first was her. The first had always been her. "Yes...yes please." Your eyes glossed over in seconds. Succumbing to her dominance and slipping bashful.

Lilia grew a grin that was a combination of everything from sweet and nurturing to hot and destructive. "Is that really what you want, baby?"

Your head nodded while your lips slightly parted. "Yes, more than anything. Please..." the server came back around once more with your card and the final receipt. Wishing you both a goodnight, and Lilia another birthday wish. You signed it smoothly and then huffed yourself back into the reality of what was just happening. "I really do want this."

Lilia hadn't taken you as one to have such a deep headspace, so when you were really meeting her gaze she knew it couldn't have been easy to come back from it. She was the first to stand, wrapping herself in the yellow coat. It was then she came and stood closer to you, having the higher advantage. "I do too, believe me." She leaned forward and kiss your forehead. "I do too, baby." Her kisses must've been powerful because your eyes were blown all over again. You had fallen deep back into it. She couldn't help to hold your soft cheek at it all, it was one of her new favorite moments. "Why don't we go see that show?"

You beamed and nodded. Pulling your own coat over your dress. You were instant to intertwine your fingers, letting her pull you on out but keeping you close behind. You already were a fan of holding her hand, never wanting to let go.

The only time you did was when you sat and her hand held your thigh. She left it there the entire show. It was a distraction just being still, it was derailment when her nails scratched up and down. You had tried to grab her hand and hold it still, yet she would only turn and give you this warning look before returning to the stage. You let go and traced shapes into her hand to focus from her ministrations.

It was the end of the show and not a single line had reached you. You just stood with everyone else while clapping along. The echoing applause sounded the same as the crackling of fire that was your skin. Lilia had you warming up with such light touches. But eventually, it all died down and the cool air of outside is sizzling your skin out.

"Did you like it?" Lilia had asked you, a little eager to know your thoughts on such a show. You only nodded, attempting to play it like you had been paying attention and not thinking of her and all the things she might do to you. Those wised eyes knew though, she knew you hadn't caught a single thing said the moment her hand touched your soft thigh. "Yeah? And what was your favorite part?"

"The acting." You so simply stated. Hoping it was good enough for her to not continue to press. But that would be too easy.

"Who's?" She raised her brow and all you could do was give her a blankness look while walking closer to the car. "You weren't paying attention were you?" The guilt filled your body and answered in itself. Lilia's curls danced around her as her head shook. "That truly is a shame, it's an amazing play."

Your frown was quick to appear, "'m sorry...it's just...you didn't make it easy..." you apologized. Stepping into her space and looping your arm with hers.

"Oh so it's my fault?" She lowly chuckled out her question. A cocky smile filling the silence as you stuttered out sounds but no words. "I'm just teasing you, baby. Don't get yourself so worked up over it."

"And because of your teasing I couldn't pay attention." You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning against her to throw off her balance. Succeeding in the efforts and snickering.

Lilia laughed with you, even as she regained herself. Her arm slipped from yours and her hand settled on your back. "Did I tease you the entire time to work you up? Maybe. And maybe pretty girl, I plan to finish what I started at home."

You rounded to stand in front of her, cheeks turning red but the night dimming it out. Her lips were curled with a smirk that implied everything you needed to know. Soon it was you holding her hand and dragging her to the car.

~

It started with her straddling your lap in the center of your bed. Her lips kissing all over yours and down your neck, finding every right spot to leave you gasping. The feeling felt overwhelming, to finally have her kissing you. It was feeling like everything was hypersensitive. Stinging with pleasure as she continued all over.

Your hand slipped into her curls, twisting your fingers with the pattern and holding her close. She knew how to work a body and it showed.

Lilia also knew how to stake her claim. Leaving bruises all down the spans of your neck. A silent thought to show the town you were no longer available rang in her head. And when your hand found her hair, she only could groan against you. You needed her just as she needed you. It made her blood rush with anticipation. She wanted to make you feel better than you've ever felt. Really secure her place in your mind. Making sure nobody could ever come in and kick her out.

Her lips were plush against your pulse. Even when they covered her teeth as they sunk into you, the moan slipped straight from your throat. Your free hand flew to steady yourself on her hip, feeling the heat radiating from her. How it seeped through her clothes and onto your exposed skin.

"Lilia..." You hummed before swallowing thickly. You didn't know what you were actually asking for, all you knew is you wanted more of her. In your sight, on your tongue, in your hands, echoing in your ears, and filling your every breath. The very feeling of her on you wasn't enough as you really caved into her. "Mama..."

Her hum vibrated against you, "Yes baby?" You whined at the pet name finally. Knowing that if there was anytime to let her know her effect it was here and now. And the way she called you 'baby' always tickled something deeply rooted in your brain.

You sighed out, the hand on her hip began fisting her top. Begging her closer, "more..."

"So needy...I bet you've been needing me for a while haven't you?" Her movements lightened to almost ghostly passes. It made your skin crawl with goosebumps. "You're the perfect gift for me baby." She spoke low and with rasp. "My perfect girl."

You gasped at the claim. "All yours..." you tightened your grip. Just the subtle touches of her, the amber and deep musk invading your lungs, the sounds of her lips on your skin, sucking, bruising you, everything. It was everything this woman was doing and also wasn't doing that drove you into override. Your mind felt hazy and your body felt hot and tingly. "Mm..please mama...I need more." You whined.

Lilia pulled off, cupping your cheek and seeing that long gone look in your eyes. Your pupils dilated to the very brim of color. "I hear you baby," she hummed. It was effortless to get you to lie down. All it took was a glance back at the pillows and you were crawling frantically to get comfortable. "You look so damn adorable in this dress. Just like a doll."

Your cheeks warmed further and you couldn't help the small grin. "Thank you, I bought it just for you," you bashfully confessed. And suddenly you were on your knees showing yourself off to her.

"Isn't that just sweet of you, dressing for me already. And you're so well mannered baby, you really did want to be my good girl." She smirked as your head bobbed in agreement with a proud smile. "You'll be good for me right? Even when mama buries her cock so deep in you?"

Her hands were holding you firmly in place and she was back in your space. On you without even an inch apart. Lilia was struggling to keep her control and work you up...but fuck you for being so precious. She couldn't help the need to destroy it. To make you her slutty baby.

Her shuddering breath made you lower back down from her. Sitting back on your heels and staring up at her. "Yeah...yes..yes I'll be good even then. Promise," you batted your lashes.

The lust in her eyes deepened to something darker. "Mama's gonna have so much fun with you baby."

You glowed with innocence as you eagerly settled your self back into the pillows again, this time Lilia trapped you down with her hands on either side of you. Her devilish smile seemed nothing of mischief to you, so you were giggling up to her. Relishing in what you thought would be slow and languished.

How naive you were.

Lilia's lips were latching to your chest completely disregarding your already bruised neck, making you gasp and cry. But she made a whole new mural of purple across your collar bones. Leaving your chest rising in deep breaths. "Nobody's gonna think you're single now baby. No more rumors with you and anyone else."

You tried to catch yourself to respond but before you knew it her lips were pressing over your covered stomach. "I'm gonna fuck you in and out of this dress so nicely, baby. The things you make me want to do."

"Mama..." you whined while your hips bucked into the air, bumping into her chest. It made you realized how clothed she is against you and your dress. Your hand grabbed her shoulder, fisting the shirt just once more and pulling carefully at it. "Your shirt...off please." You were polite even in your stare as she obliged.

Letting you drink in the sight as she undid each button one by one. Soon the white fabric was on the floor and she was in just her white bra. Her boobs spilling out just right. Your eyes twinkled with thoughts of kissing them and sucking on them. Making her moan and hum in delight.

Lilia must've seen the gears turning cause she returned to kissing her way down. "When I'm done with you, then you can have whatever you need from me. Got it?"

Your head agreed, "yes mama." Your eyes focused on her between your legs. You were desperate to burn it into your brain. More desperate for her to actually eat you out though.

Lilia was kissing all around your core. Your thighs were left with even more love bites than your chest. "I can't wait to taste how sweet my girl is." She pressed her lips to your clit, smiling to herself as you sharply inhaled and body stilled. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling your white panties down and off your legs.

The cold air over your wetness made you shiver in anticipation. It was when her warm breath fanned over you did you cry out. "Please, I need you so bad mama. I can't take any longer." You pleaded.

It was the richest honey her ears had ever been given. Her tongue flattened against you and in one swipe she collected as much of you as she could. Humming in content at your taste that was all hers. This was her secret stash of honey that only she'd ever be allowed to use. And she couldn't get enough.

Her tongue ravage you in ways you didn't expect. Like she had done this so much it was practically second nature. The thought made you shift slightly, but Lilia seemed to know you in this state like the back of her cards. "I've never had anyone like you baby. I just can't get enough. You're so fucking sweet. So...god who did I please to get you? Hmm? My sweet, sweet fucking girl."

Your body loosened and began to heat up. The coil in your stomach tightening in the most delicious ways. "Ma..mama..don't stop please.."

She hummed against you again, picking up her pace and pushing harder against you. Slurping up as much of you as she could as you came with a cry of her name. Her actual name.

You had snapped back to feel the reality of it for just one moment. To grab her hand and squeeze it as she kept licking and sucking at you. And then as conscious as you were, you were back to whining for her.

Lilia delivered one last lick before placing kisses all over your hips and thighs. Trailing all the way up to your lips, were you both hummed at the taste of you. "We're gonna have issues now that I know you're just a piece of my favorite candy. I'll never be able to resist you, baby."

You, still trying to catch a steady breathing, giggled. "You're exaggerating, mama." Your hand cupped her cheek and you smiled widely once again.

Yet, Lilia only crashed her lips to yours once again. This time a little more rough as her tongue slipped in while you gasped. Establishing itself and dancing lead with yours. She was making sure you tasted what she just did. And when she pulled back, her eyes were sharper as they stared down at you. "The way I'm going to fuck you will make you realize just how humble you are. That you wont believe that's how people want to do you. But only mama will get you. Only mama."

It was much more commanding now. The air felt thicker and you felt your body melt into the mattress you were in flames.

Your heavy breathes were the only thing to be heard as Lilia stood and riffed of her pants. Swaying her hips as she disappeared out the room. You took the minute she was gone to just breathe and calm your racing heart beat.

All your efforts were instantly thrown out however. Lilia returned, and much to her word, she had a rather large strap around her waist. Although it looked rather real if you had any say. She pointed towards the ground in front of her. Flashing her sharp teeth as you obeyed and she was able to collect a fistful of your hair. "Go on. Suck mama before she ruins you."

You loved this switch. Yes her softness and delicacy were nice, but this side of her made your skin crawl with heat. She was dominating everything from your body to your mind. There was nothing besides Lilia.

Your plush lips wrapped around just the tip and Lilia's brows twitched for a split second. You had begun to bob up and down her, chalking it up to be the sight getting her off the most. It was when her hips began to roll with the movement of you, hitting deeper in your throat. Then her hand in your hair had begun to tighten and her hips started snapping faster. She was throat fucking you. Groaning and gasping at the desperate way you held her thighs to stabilize yourself as tears rolled past your temples. All while you kept your eyes on hers.

With one last deep thrust, warmth had shot down the back of your throat and Lilia gave a shaky moan. Her hand let up in your hair and you slipped her out your mouth. You swallowed once to get everything down. Cheeks bright red as you stared at the twitching appendage. White cum still oozed slowly out the tip and your eyes had jumped up.

But Lilia didn't explain anything, she just pointed to the bed. "On all fours baby." Was the only instruction.

Apart of you was in conflict. Something was whispering so quietly to pull out of the deep space you were in. It was so quiet it was gone with the sound of floor creaking under your knees as you stood. Finding your spot in the middle, exactly how Lilia wanted you. Listening to the room around you to find the woman.

Her wised hands ran over your hips, one up your spin and to your neck. Pushing you down into the mattress. Her fingers ghosted the curve of your body. "And look, there's even a bow in the back." She played with the fabric a little before flipping it over to bare your ass to her. She was memorized by your glistening folds. "You're impeccable, baby." She held your hips more firm and lined herself up. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you baby. Don't ever worry again."

You let out a strangled moan as she bottomed out, letting out her own grunt as well. Her chest was pressed against your back as she gave you both a second to adjust. And after five, she was slowly easing into her pace. Pulling all the way to the tip, just to slam all the way back in. "Look at you, already taking me so well." Her lips pressed against your spine.

"Th..thank you..'mmhh..mama," you managed. Your hands fisted at the sheets and your hips started to push back against her. Helping her to find a deeper, softer spot. Once she registered it was your sweet spot her hips moved quicker.

Snapping against you and pounding you into the mattress. "Fuck baby...I don't think I can ever let you leave now. Not when you're sucking me in like this." It was brutal how quick she was moving.her hand snuck around your body and two fingers circled around your clit.

"Fuck...fuck me mama. Just like that. Please, please, please just like that." You felt your breath hitch in your throat and your body tighten. It felt all so good, so warm, so right. You clenched around her as you let a moan echo into the room.

But Lilia kept going. Her pace never faltering as she just slammed into you. Her nails digging into your beautiful hips, pulling you back against each thrust. It felt like she had began to find deeper as your body was working up all over again.

"You're so captivating baby, ever since the day you first arrived. I couldn't help myself but want more of you. And denying you..god that was the worst part. I was denying myself. But now, now we're done denying." You heard her words but they felt like muffled harmonies just passing through.

Your body tensed again and you were crying out again. "Mama..." you tried to get away, leaning forward out her grasp.

Yet she had one last thrust in her. She let you slip just away enough, that when she slid right back through your tight warmth, she found the golden spot. Sending you into an intense aftershock and she filled you full and groaned against your shoulder. Her arm hooked around your waist and held you still with her.

Both of you panting and hardly having anything to say. "Let's get you out this dress." She whispered, kissing your sweating temple.

You felt her slip right out of you and lean back. The sound of the harness coming undone caught your ear, yet it never hit the floor. Using your remains strength you pushed up to look for it. But it wasn't anywhere to be found. And when you looked to Lilia, she was walking away from you into the bathroom.

Your mind only thought it over so long before Lilia was returning in a shirt and with a wet towel. She offered you a hand to stand which you took. It was subtle the next moment. Her hands untying the dress and freeing you from it. The pink fell to your feet and you were suddenly butt naked in front of Lilia. Blushing madly as you caught her eyes in the mirror.

She licked her lips. "Oh baby...we might have to do a round two."

~

"That wasn't part of the plan Lilia!" Agatha scolded the older witch. "I need my walking darkhold conscious and aware of reality. Not whimpering and begging mama!"

Lilia sat in the chair feeling ashamed. It wasn't meant to happen. They were supposed to come and pull you from the many witches and warlocks who've added to the Scarlet Witch's curse. Those who knew of your knowledge worked to conceal you into your fairytale life.

But when Agatha Harkness formed a coven to walk The Witches Road successfully, she needed more. She needed you. The walking Darkhold. Secluded and alone between an apartment and clay shop. They were nice enough to give you two locations unlike Agatha.

"Ok, well let's think. She's oblivious to us all having powers. So we're still clear of being detected as anything." Alice pointed out the pro.

"I've been doing pottery with magic for how long and she hasn't noticed." Agatha added. Her blue eyes trained to Lilia as she thought. "Did you use any magic at home?"

Her big brown eyes shifted to look away. "Last night I did..." she murmured but the coven easily knew what she said.

"Oh my god Lilia! You man," Billy nudged her while walking by to get a drink from the kitchen. "So what if you ease her to question it? You have the deepest, no pun intended, connection with her. Drop things of the darkhold to her."

"Are we sure giving Agatha Harkness back the thing is a good idea anyways?" Jen crossed her arms, being against this idea in the beginning.

"She's not a thing." Lilia and Agatha said at the same time. Eyeing each other in suspicion.

"Let's run with Maximoff's idea. What if you mention details I feed you? Ones I know she knows on the fly? I'll write them down and you'll leave them about the place." Agatha played off the boys thought.

"And what if it doesn't work?" Lilia raised the opposing. Apart of her didn't want to break you out. She wanted you all to herself. If you were out you'd be spending all your time with Agatha trying to recreate the Darkhold.

Alice crossed her arms and held herself a little tighter. "We have no choice but to try Lilia. What harm could it bring?"

"Unleashing the last source of spells that have been put into a hook called 'The Darkhold' for a reason." Jen scoffed. As much as she didn't like the idea, she was running with it to free someone 'bound'. She knew that feeling herself.

Agatha hurried around and scribbled down spells onto a variety of sticky notes. In total making seven and handing them to the divination witch. "I need her out the spell Calderu. Don't let whatever feelings you conjured for her little personality ruin this. Or so help me, I will walk in next time and drag her out."

It was an honest promise kore than a threat. Lilia knew that. "Fine. I'll put them around the house tonight before she comes home."

"Good girl," Agatha hummed before leading them out the apartment. After Jen had left, the brunette turned one more time. "Lilia. Get this done so we don't have to be vicious."

So she did. She placed the spells in the places she knows you go straight for when you get home. One in the key bowl by the door, one in the bathroom on the mirror, your pajama drawer, on your nightstand by your charger, the fridge on your fruit punch, in the cup cabinet, and lastly on the black tv screen. It was impossible to miss any of them.

But it didn't prepare her for what you had planned for coming home. You waltzed in basically shinning with joy as you pecked her cheek. She sat in the living room, anxiously waiting your arrival.

"Today was so busy! Busy but good!" You clearly missed the note in the key bowl. There were six other chances. "Pour me juice and I'll be right out," you gave her another peck and we're off into the room.

You first collected something to change into. Feeling a sweats and boxer outfit, you collected the black sweats from the closet and boxers from the top drawer. Grabbing a hoodie as well and throwing it all on to the bed.

Heading into the bathroom next. In need to wash away all the grime and clay that lingered. The note caught your attention first. Your brows furrowed and you mumbled over the words. Something about them felt staticy on your tongue. You even went as far to check yourself in the mirror.

In all, with the new unease you continued through your routine. You were changing clothes when the house just seemed too warm for a hoodie, so you swapped it for a tank. Another note with gibberish was lying on top. Had Lilia placed these about? What are they and why in your drawer?

You kept moving about, finding another next to your charger. You figured you could ask if you brought them to her. Including the one you caught on the tv. "Lilia? What are these notes?" You had four in your hands and none of them made sense.

"Baby...I need you to really concentrate. Do they seem familiar at all?" Her brown eyes were wide with pleads. None of this was making sense to you. "Have you tried saying them out loud?"

"They're in a language I don't even know. What is it even? Latin?" You wildly guessed. You took your spot right next to her and kept trying to read them. "I'm a bit confused. This feels like earlier when Rio stopped by...said something about reality and I just assumed she was making a bad joke."

"Yeah? And what did she say?" Lilia stood, briefly leaving your side to grab the other three. Bringing them back and setting all seven on the coffee table.

You shrugged while staring. "She was on about Agatha needing me in a different reality. Like we knew each other somewhere else. Then she said this one was cute and boring. I need an adventure." You intently focused on the fifth note. "You know Latin right? Said you took a class? Can't you read these?"

"I can, but it's not about me." She shook her head.

"Then what's this about?" You picked up the note and really traced the letters. "This one kinda seems familiar. Like I've seen these letters arranged once before." You kept repeating what you could.

Eventually your broken syllables turned into words. Then you were chanting them. Your body shook with a cold rush that ran all through your veins. You've known this feeling before. Your eyes fell to the other notes, realizing what they were. You knew these spells.

"Oh thank- fucking finally hun!" Agatha's voice barged into the room.

"Oh my- Harkness what the hell happened?" You shot up. Where were you and who were these people around you? Your eyes dropped to your hands, so did Agatha's.

Her chuckle of relief washed the room. "Oh you still have it all. Oh, the Scarlet Witch. She destroyed every copy of the Darkhold. But not you. You got buried deep. Weeks. Months of coven work to get you freed."

You scoffed. "Please, Agatha Harkness and a coven? That's the biggest joke I've heard in my life. Is that who these people all are? Your coven?" Your bite was so familiar for the purple witch, but new to everyone who'd met your false personality.

"I see why you two get along." Jen huffed, taking a seat over on a stool. "So how'd you meet her Darkhold?"

"Unintentionally. She was fucking around with the book, casted a spell and poof! The literal embodiment of all those spells and things you would let take over your morales." Your smile was sickening.

"Yeah, well I need you." Agatha cut the rest of the conversation. Snapping her fingers in your face to get your focus. "I need your knowledge. I need you to rewrite the book."

You sighed, "it's always need, need, need with you Agatha."

"I just freed you from how many curses? This is how you respond?" She was in disbelief.

You nodded, "uhh yeah! I was only in that curse cause of you! Dragged my ass to Westview and played house and now look! Whose house are we even in?!" Your hands were wildly gesturing.

"Yours! Well yours and Lilia's. Ya know? Mama?" Agatha's brow arched and her smile was nothing but teasing. "I know you remember more of those months than you're letting one."

Your eyes dropped to the oldest witch by your side. Well...technically you're the oldest living thing in the room. "You fucked me with a magical dick?" Your brows furrowed. Her cheeks blushed heavily at your forwardness. "I wanna put a pin in that for sure, but in the mean time. Even if we do recreate the Darkhold, it won't be the same. Especially since I have a horrible drawing hand so I could get you the correct formations for certain rituals."

"I don't need rituals! I need power," she groaned. Her hands on your shoulders and pushing you down to the couch. She crouched and held your hands. "You hold over thousands years of dark magic up in the pretty brain of yours hun. I need you to use it for me ok?"

Lilia tensed at the way Agatha was speaking to you. Like she had once been the one to dominate you. "That's because I am well into at least my five thousands."

The three in the kitchen finally took further interest in you. "Hold on," Billy pipped up. Rushing over to hover over you as well. "You're over five thousand years old?"

"I'm the embodiment of that dumb book, yeah. Unfortunately. And you kid, your mother was a pain in my ass. I mean seriously, even under everything, every curse, spell, binding, I could feel her using the book. She never slept, kept me lingering for ever." You pointed before dropping to Agatha again.

"What do you say, hun? Just like old times?" Her blue eyes were silently, and so hidden deeply, begging you.

Lilia was for sure you'd go. That those dark fingertips that used to be clear from all mischief would run off to cause destruction. Leaving her forgotten.

"No."

The room erupted in to confused 'huh's. Except for Jen who was laughing in Agatha's face at the backfiring of her plan.

"What the fuck do you mean no?" Her hands gestured in your lap for any explanation to this.

Your eyes found Lilia. "I want to stay here with her. You're right, I do remember those months. And I remember how real it felt with Lilia. Unfortunately do hope as the Darkhold, I'm still accepted." You were in just her world. "I can give you everything."

To engrossed in those deep swirls, you missed Agatha groaning as she got up. Already just accepting her defeat on having you fully, but she was going to get those spells.

Lilia's hand had come up to your cheek, a thumb stroking over it as her heart swelled. "You really mean it?"

"You'll have to relearn me is the only downside." You placed your dark fingertips on her hand. Finally drawing all the rooms attention to them. The blackness ran far up your arms and under your shirt.

"Wait, wait, wait. Before you go swearing yourself into marriage Bookie I need to know you'll at least give me spells when I need them? I just need something, anything from you." She had that signature annoyed look she always had with you.

"If you ever call me that again I'm not helping you. But for now you have yourself a deal. But don't think you're getting any of the good ones." You hummed, not really paying any mind to her anymore.

"We should go before they start making out..." Alice mumbled, watching you and Lilia get closer and closer slowly. It was comedic how they all scurried out.

The door closing as you, the knowledge of the Darkhold, laughed the wondrous Madame Calderu for the first time clearly.

"I never gave you your gift did it?" The question fell from your lips softly. You were quieter when with just two people. Her curls shook left and right. "Yeah..you did fuck me pretty good. Imma go get it, I know pottery me would've wanted you to actually have it."

You pressed a kiss to the back of her hands and went to get the bag in the corner of your room. Bringing it back with you to the living room. "Here, she even wrapped it according to you."

"You say she like it still wasn't you?" Lilia sensed the disassociation with roommate she fell heavily for.

Your head shook, "I know that she wasn't me. I would've never made anything in bed that easy." Your smile was still the same though. Even if the eyes with it were full of contained wickedness and chaos. "Go on, pretty girl. Open it."

Her cheeks heated under your prominent gaze. You're right, you wouldn't have made sex easy. As she pulled out the white and yellow paper, she couldn't help to think of how the age gap has shifted. You were millenniums before her. She wasn't even close to one thousand. Her hands touched something cool. Grasping around it and pulling it up.

It was a ceramic card holder. The details being all so familiar to the witch. They were the same ones she painted long ago by her own hand. It was almost replicas of each card lining around the sides. But the cover was her most favorite part, the big queen of cups stared up at her. Except the difference was the color in curls. They weren't red and young like how Lilia's was, these were peppered like hers now. Like the face you had met.

"You knew?" Her eyes leaped to yours as her fingers couldn't help to take in every inch of texture.

Your head nodded slowly, "I always had an inkling I was missing something but I wasn't ever going to piece together the truth. And it was the amount of attention the card. I figured one plus one equals two... do you like it?"

"Baby I love it. Thank you." She whispered so gently. This time she leaned in. Her wised smile pressing to your goofy one. It felt natural already and made all the chaos you hold disappear into a void of knowledge.

She was someone you could get used to.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁  ! ⺌ . ⸺  NPE! 

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him.  A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated.  “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!”  “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!”  he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n.  They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer.  She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men.  “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists.  “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer.  There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!”  But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it!  “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door.  Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red.  A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control.  “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!”  The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick.  It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted.  I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back.  The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.”  The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display.  The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl.  “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello my love could I please request Thor with “Vampires AU” please for your 6k celebration 💗🫶🏼

.⋆｡Blood Bag｡⋆.

Thor x plus size reader

You need a job and the ancient and powerful vampire on the edge of town needs blood, of course nothing could go wrong

Warnings: Vampire!AU, virgin!reader, lots of blood talk, age-gap (obvi), brief mentions of vamp!Loki and a different reader insert, flirting WC: 1.5k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, you thought as you looked up at the huge wrought iron gates that separated the old estate from the real world. The job listing had been simple; ‘Blood donations for vamp wanted. Virgin preferred. Guaranteed $5000 per feed.’ At first, you disregarded it, letting your gaze travel to the smattering of other postings on the site. But that number tugged at your mind well into the night, practically haunting your dreams until, in an act of temporary madness, you sprang up at three in the morning and filled out the application, sending it in before you could second guess yourself.

By the time you awoke several hours later, you had a nice fat contract sitting in your inbox and a request for a clean physical from your prospective employer. You hesitated to accept until you saw the upfront money you would receive before your first donation, it would easily cover your rent for the next two months.

So here you were, a paper with your clean bill of health in one hand and an overnight bag in the other, staring up at the biggest house you had ever seen in real life, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you would be a few quarts lighter. The gates creaked as they swung open for you and suddenly, you wondered if this was actually the beginning of some horror movie starring you as the gullible first victim.

Yet you stepped forwards anyway, following the long trail of your shadow up the drive. The gravel crunching under your feet quickly grounded you, it was well-known that vamps could literally smell fear and it would do you no good to sour your blood before your first meeting. 

Only a few windows were illuminated as the sun dipped below the horizon, urging you to move faster and get in the house before night truly fell even if what was inside the manor could bring more danger than anything that roamed the grounds under the cover of darkness. 

“You’re early.” Golden eyes gazed down at you from the now open front door. 

“Jesus! Oh shit, sorry I should not have said that. I-“ The man smiled and stepped back from the entryway, gesturing for you to come in.

You stumbled into the huge foyer, the tension locking up your joints slowly loosening as the warmth of the home seeped into your body. “Do not fret, many of the stories you have been told are false. We are not harmed by any mere name so there is nothing to apologise for. Now, may I take your things? I will file away your physical in a lock box in the Master’s office. A room has already been prepared for your stay. I do apologise if the bedding is not to your liking, I fear it has been many centuries since anyone in this house has felt the need for sheets and pillows.”

The man, who you could now carefully observe in the soft light of the chandelier above you both, took your things from you before you could fully digest what he said. “How many people live here?” He danced at you with a soft smile, his lips pressed together so as to not reveal the deadly fangs that all of his kind possessed.

“Only four. We do have several maids that come in every few weeks but they don’t reside on the property. You will only be feeding one person, don’t worry. The Master’s younger brother lives in the West Wing along with his wife who provides the blood he needs.”

“And your Master?” The man’s golden eyes sparkled with something akin to affection as you walked alongside him, your footsteps echoing through the otherwise silent halls.

“You may call him Thor, he is a kind man. It was only at my suggestion that you were brought here, vampires can only live off of animal blood for so long before they need fresh human blood. The Master has spent the last 50 years refusing to harm a human in order to fulfil his baser instinct,” The grand staircase led you to a long hall of doors with intranet tapestries between them, “He has grown weak, he needs to properly feed. And now that humans have accepted vampires as a natural part of society, he was far more open to the idea than before.”

He stopped in front of the second to last door, gracefully pulling out a key to allow you entry. “Here is your room. I’ve left some toiletries and snacks out for you, please eat before and after the feeding but if you forget, I am sure the Master will remind you. If you need anything else, you can ring that bell,” he gestured to the pull cord in the corner of the room, “Or simply call my name and I will come.”

You nodded but as he turned to leave, you spat out, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Heimdall, miss.” The door clicked shut, leaving you alone once more. 

Indeed there were snacks on the desk below the call bell, although it looked more like they were bought by an 8 year old who was just let loose in a candy shop with their parent’s credit card than anything else. But you supposed that ancient vampires didn’t really know how to food shop for humans. You picked out a packet of Twizzlers as you wandered further in, taking in the ornate bedroom that looked like it was pulled directly out of Pride and Prejudice. An ensuite connected to the room revealed a huge clawfoot tub (that you were shamelessly fantasising about using after meeting the man of the hour) and a large vanity with some fancy soaps by the sink.

“I hope you are pleased with your room?” A deep voice rumbled from somewhere behind you.

You whipped around in a panic only to be met with the sight of the most handsome man you had seen in your life. He stood well over six feet tall but the bulging muscles of his arms and legs made him look even bigger. His blond hair was cropped short, immediately drawing your gaze to the eyepatch over his right eye, though you quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude to the man. He tutted and gently guided you back to face him with a hooked finger under your soft chin.

“You are more beautiful than I thought you would be.” You faltered, and his blue eye shone.

“Oh um thank you.” The floorboards creaked under his weight as he stepped closer, letting his touch trail down from your jaw, stopping briefly on your neck before travelling down to your collarbone, his large thumb fitting perfectly in the divot of your throat. Your pulse grew stronger as you caught a flat of his fangs. 

“You’re frightened, aren’t you little one?”

“No.” His plump lips curled up in a prideful smirk.

“Good girl.” Your chest seized. “Now, I believe we need to discuss your limits before you provide me with a meal.” Thor released his hold upon you but your skin still burned with his touch, urging you to chase the feeling once more yet you remained glued to the spot. 

He turned to look at the pile of sweets that were left for you. “I wonder how sweet these will make you.” He muttered almost to himself.

“Do you want me to shower before you feed?” He hummed. 

“I would prefer you not, strong scents tend to sour the blood.” 

“And, do you um do you want to drink directly from me?” That earned you a deep rumbling groan from the man, his eyelid fluttering. 

He seemed to lose himself for just a moment before his broad chest inflated and he faced you fully once more. “Only if you allow me to. If not, Heimdall has already prepared an IV.” Bashfully, you clasped your hands together.

“I’m scared of needles so I think directly would be fine.” He chuckled and gestured towards the huge bed in the centre of the room that had far too many pillows on it.

“Then shall we get started?” Your shoes skittered along the hardwood floor as you kicked them off before shedding your oversized sweater, revealing the very low-cut top you had picked out for today. Thor’s gaze burned into you as he hungrily traced your curves. “I seem to find it hard to believe that you are a virgin. You are ethereal, little one.”

Your lips parted but the only thing that escaped them was a squeak of surprise. “Oh I liked that sound, I think I need you to make it more often.” You ducked your head and climbed onto the mattress, Thor following closely behind. He knocked off a majority of the pillows, leaving only a couple on the left side of the bed. You kneeled next to him, your knees barely brushing his hip.

“Come closer, I cannot feed when you are so far away.” His hands grabbed your wide hips and pulled you onto his lap without so much as a breath of exertion. Your soft legs parted, allowing for his body to slip between them as he sat back upon the headboard, a dangerously pleased expression colouring his features. “There we go. Now, we stop whenever you feel uncomfortable.”

Your hands fell to his expansive shoulders, giving the muscles a soft squeeze. “Yes sir.” You answered in a daze.

Using his right hand, Thor tilted your head, exposing the delicate vein along your jugular. “Good girl.”

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[tulipfantasies]

night on the town ✩ n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary; a simple night on the town leads to the discoveration of pain and addiction.

characters; (mentions) og 6 and a woman named maria (not hill).

warnings; 16+ (just to be safe), use of alcohol and cigarettes, (mentions) underage smoking, (mentions) addiction, (mentions) natasha's past at the red room, (mild) swearing, (mild) jealous r, nat is ooc again, (minor) angst and fluff. 

my notes;  please, if any of the topics in bold make you uncomfortable or trigger you, do not read onwards. i don't want to upset anyone so consider it your warning. i don't think i like this one. can anyone spot the small pop culture reference??

word count; 2.6k ao3

A ‘simple night on the town’ turns into 1:04 am. 

The entire length of the streets of New York was bathed in a soft amber glow, all thanks to the street lights that were situated on every corner of the Avenues. 

Midtown, or at least the side you all find yourselves on, was eerily calm given the environment (and the atmosphere hidden on the inside) that was nestled amongst the usually busy streets.

No car horns were heard for miles on end.

For the middle of spring, the air was bitterly cold yet so freeing. In stark contrast to the air behind the secured doors, which was heavy and suffocating.

Tony, among one of his genius plans, had decided that you all deserved to take a break from your demanding and life-saving lives.

He described it as a ‘simple night out on the town’, but we all know that in Tony’s dictionary, that was an excuse for him to get shit-faced. 

So, naturally, you all tagged along to keep him out of trouble and to have a little fun yourselves.

Who could pass up a free drink and the chance to unwind anyway?

Now, none of the team members that tagged along were anywhere in sight except for those who were strictly keeping sober or physically couldn’t get drunk.

The sensible ones.

The only remaining ones were around the table in the VIP booth that Tony rented in the club.

2:45 am.

It’s been 1 hour and 41 minutes since you last saw her dancing with some brunette, who has definitely drunk more than the legal requirement.

Desperate.

1 hour and 41 minutes of scanning through the hot and heavy crowd in search of a single sign that she was still dancing with the brunette or getting another drink at the bar.

None. 

“Y/n? Where are you going?” Steve’s voice calls out over the booming music as he watches you snatch your phone from off the table impatiently.

“Need fresh air.” You reply hastily before throwing a small smile over your shoulder and in his direction.

“She’s going to find Nat,” Clint’s voice could just about be heard over the music as he was talking to Steve and you were walking further away. “Like always.”

The music was practically deafening to the ears; the last thing on a drunken mind was the volume of the music.

Sex and more alcohol always are. 

You were just silently thanking yourself that you had entered the club with a lot more self-control and had only ended up getting tipsy this time around.

Unlike Tony who was completely shit-faced.

Pushing through the thick sea of plastered couples (who were dancing in a way that was even too much for you) was a task in itself but you finally managed to reach the front doors to the club.

Soft, yet bright, light was emitted in your direction causing you to wince. 

You let out a large sigh of relief the further away you stumble from the raging nightclub, random shot glass in hand, and into the bitter air that pierced the exposed skin on your arms and legs.

A small shiver runs down your spine.

“Fancy seeing you here,” A sultry voice brings your, slightly blurred, attention away from the empty shot glass in your hand and toward the direction where it came from.

The dimly lit alleyway. “Got tired of being in there?”

“Nat!” You exclaim in relief as you slowly make your way over toward the alleyway. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you for like the past hour.”

The closer you reach her, the more of her outline you can make out.

She’s leaning up against the masonry while nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila (or vodka, it was too dark to make it out) in one hand and a lit cigarette in between her index finger and middle finger on her other.

A dangerous combo for a dangerous woman.

“I’ve been out here the entire time, detka.”

“Oh? With that brunette who was all over you like some desperate-”

“Careful now,” She cuts your words off with a smug grin and a tsk sound. “You had a lot to drink, detka?”

“Uh, yeah, a few but I’m not drunk like Tony.” You reply as you make a move to lean up against the wall opposite to her.

No other words were spoken as she raised the cigarette to her lips to take a long drag. 

Drag after drag, she slowly puffs the lethal smoke out towards the right of her while she makes sure that not once does she take her emerald gaze from off of you.

It was an intense gaze.

“But that’s beside my point, who the hell was that brunette dancing with you?” You ask abruptly with a raised brow. She chuckles in amusement at your clear jealousy. “Because she was getting way too cosy with you.”

“No one important, just someone who drunkenly came up and started dancing with me,” Natasha replies as if it never bothered her because it didn’t bother her. “Think she said her name was Maria or something.” 

Maria. “Hm, you seemed to get pretty handsy with her, do you like her?”

“Where’s all this jealousy coming from, Y/n/n?” She asks in an amused tone which is followed by a chuckle. Oh, she was enjoying this. “To be fair, it’s amusing seeing you go all green over some random girl, especially one I don’t know or have an interest in.”

“Y’know, I’d rather not discuss it.” You say, brushing off her question and ignoring her comment as you turn to face away from her so she can’t see you roll your eyes.

There’s a pregnant pause before you clear your throat and look back toward her with a slightly softened gaze.

The cigarette remains firmly pressed in between her fingers.

“Have you always smoked?” You ask, to change the subject, as you fold your arms over your chest.

Natasha doesn't reply straight away but takes another drag.

She drops the remaining bit of her cigarette onto the ground so that she can stamp harshly on it, with the sole of her shoe, just to make sure that it’s out.

“Mhm,” she hums with a shrug of her shoulders. “Just kept it to myself, I guess.”

Taking your bottom lip in between your upper front teeth, you nervously chew on it as she leans forward to slip the shot glass from out of your hand and into hers.

Without any sounds, she lets the clear liquid trickle out of the bottle and into the shot glass before gently handing it back to you.

You bring the rim of the shot glass to your lips before knocking it back in one go. Straight tequila. 

“Oh, god, that’s tequila.” You state in a strained voice and with a noticeable grimace as the liquid burns the back of your throat.

Natasha chuckles at the sight of your grimace before smiling softly as you clear your throat. “You okay there, detka?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You reply before sighing and reaching up to give your temple a quick but firm rub. “You know smoking is bad for your lungs, right? And besides, what are you out here drinking tequila straight for?”

With her fingers curled around the neck of the tequila bottle, she brings the rim of the bottle up to her lips intending to tip it back to take another swig.

But she doesn’t. 

“You only get one chance in life, detka,” she replies nonchalantly, ignoring your second question, before finally taking a swig of the alcohol. “I’ve learnt that the hard way.”

Given what she was forced to witness and trained into doing while growing up, it made some sense for her to be wishing away her life like this.

That amount of trauma is often immovable and can only be numbed by the effects of drugs and alcohol.

The Red Room raised those girls into being their bloodthirsty puppets, the ones who were forced to believe that they had no place in the world and yet here Natasha is, with her foot in the world, throwing it all away just to numb her feelings.

You never really know what you’ve got until it's too late.

The thought of going through what she had growing up made your skin crawl.

“How long have you been smoking for?” You ask cautiously as you stare at the redhead who lets out a long sigh.

From that sigh alone, you can tell it wasn’t a habit that she had recently picked up. 

“Listen, I didn’t come out to get interrogated about my unhealthy habits, so just drop it, alright?” She defends herself before she extends the neck of the bottle back over to you.

You decline with a shake of your head.

One shot of tequila is enough. You can’t stomach anymore tonight.

“How long have you been smoking, Nat?”

She lets out a defeated sigh. “Not sure. Since I was, like, 14 or 15.”

You would say that you’re surprised to hear that she’s been smoking so young but by the looks of it, smoking has become an unhealthy coping mechanism for the shit life she’s got.

You just wish it wasn’t her that was suffering like this.

“A cigarette is the least of my worries.” She replies with a shrug before closing her eyes to relive the memory.

“They drugged me with all kinds of things in the Red Room so I added to it by stealing a cigarette from a packet in a guard’s pocket. I can still remember getting in trouble now.”

Silence comes from her end as her gaze flickers down to the squashed cigarette on the floor before glancing back up at you, who peacefully analyses her.

She can’t stop.

“And it’s turned into a habit that you now can’t break.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.” 

“Does smoking and drinking like this at least make you feel better?” You ask curiously but cautiously.

When it comes to Natasha, you have to choose your words carefully.

Natasha doesn’t let her guard down around anyone yet here she was, in a dingy alleyway, letting you see the regret and pain shining in her eyes.

No, it doesn’t.

Your heart aches for her; all the cigarettes and alcohol that she’s taken over the years (outside and inside of you knowing her) haven’t numbed the pain in the way she hoped it would.

It just put her at ease for a certain amount of time.

“Oh, Tasha.” 

She doesn’t say anything else but instead, her gaze flickers away from your eyes (which she always finds herself lost in) and down to your soft-shaped lips.

So kissable. 

She could practically taste the bitterness and sweetness of the alcohol on the tip of her tongue.

At that moment, she knew that she wanted, no, needed to kiss you more than ever. 

Without any hesitation, she takes a step toward you so she can place her hands on your hips (despite still holding onto the bottle) so she can gently tug your back away from the masonry.

Her blurry gaze rests on your lips, memorising the shape and softness of them before she dips her head down slightly.

Her lips were inches away from yours. 

“Nat-”

“-Shut up and let me kiss you.” She growled before pulling you in closer so that her hot breath was fanning against your lips. 

The moment her lips crash against yours, your hands instinctively reach up to comb through her soft red locks.

She tastes like 5 different alcohols and nicotine all in one go; normally you’re not into that but, right now, you crave her. 

You didn’t want her to break the kiss any time soon but she did and instead of moving away from you, she rested her forehead against hers.

The both of you were panting softly.

“Are you addicted to them?” You whisper as your hands drop from her hair and down to cup her rosy cheeks. “The way they make you feel numb or how they make you act?”

Her forehead drops against yours as her head hangs low and the warmth her body was radiating disappears as she takes a step back from you.

A small nod confirms everything you need to know.

She’s addicted.

She stares at you as she extends her arm out so that she can carelessly throw the empty bottle of tequila as far away from her as possible.

Your grip on your shot glass loosens so the shattering noise rippling through the alleyway increases just like the pile of glass shards.

“I–I don’t know how to stop.” 

The alcohol in her system has weakened the walls she put up for her protection to the point where they were trembling.

“You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

You take a short step toward her to go back to gently cupping her cheeks in your soft hands.

She leans into your touch as a thick singular tear rolls down her cheek. 

Here she was, standing in front of you, looking vulnerable and broken. And boy, did the people of her past break her.

“I want to stop. I do but I can’t.” She admits in a soft tone as if she is worried about other people hearing her. “I’ve tried so many times.”

The glass shards crunch under your footing as you drop your touch on her cheeks to wrap your arms around her torso.

She instantly wraps her arms around you in return. 

“I promise you, I am going to help you out of this.” You whisper your promise as she buries her head into the crook of your neck.

You’re wearing the perfume that drives her crazy.

It felt as if your promise was empty but the determination flooding through your system tells you that you will not let it be empty.

You are going to help her through this, like it or not.

“Let’s go get some water so we can sober up, yeah?” You whisper as she pulls away to give you a nod of agreement. “You’re stuck with me, now, Nat.”

“There’s no one I would rather be stuck with, detka.” She whispers back as she slips her hand in between yours to squeeze it before following as you both sluggishly walk out of the alleyway.

The alleyway that you stood in, kissed in and where she bit the bullet and admitted defeat. 

The streets remain silent as the two of you stumble down them, hand in hand.

The bitter air no longer bothered you or the exposed skin that you were showing, not when you were wrapped underneath Natasha’s arm. 

“Thank you,” She says, after silence, as you two stumble onto the corner of the street to call a taxi. Thankfully there was one in the distance. “For not judging me and sticking by me. Even in my darkest times.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Natasha.” You reply as a taxi pulls up in front of you. You both climb in and mutter your destination to the driver before you turn back to look at her. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because I’d do anything for the people that I love. And it’s safe to say that I’m in love with you.”

She smiles softly at your, slightly drunken, confession before bringing your hand up to her lips so she can press a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist and then against your palm. 

“I love you too, detka,” she whispers as she moves her head to catch your lips in for a sweet but short-lived kiss. “More than anything in this world. I love you.”

[sadgirlglimmeringdarling]

Even though I stopped following Olivia since November I still get her instagram posts on my dash. This is her latest. Jack must have taken this picture as she posed in bed. Notice the song she has playing on the post. Notice the hashtag. It's a bit ridiculous as people are dying in the wildfires in California. Here is the post. Go do your thing.

She forgot to hashtag #LupusWarrior

With everything going on around the world... like those dangerous fires that have spread all over LA - so far 11 people have died - not to mention the thousands who have lost their homes, schools, churches and fucking livelihood - we have this bitch over here talking about wanting to live in her dreams because she's depressed.

Not just depressed but #bipolardepression.

I can't with her.

What exactly is she depressed about? Because so far she's gotten everything she's ever wanted.

She's allegedly been financially secure and protected for a good 16 plus years, thanks to Jack. No bills, no rent and no real financial worries. Has allegedly lived in Jack's mansion in Nashville for how long? Years. Probably has the best health insurance that Jack provides for her. She has no real urgency to have a real job. Jack allegedly pays for everything. Records her horrible albums when she feels like recording them. No deadlines. Studio time, mastering and producing - all paid by Jack. Plays her God awful music at dive bars whenever she feels like it, which is usually 4-6 times a year. When she also feels like it, she'll open up for some band. Lastly, she went from mistress to wife in 2022.

So - I need this heffa to explain to me why the real world is too horrible for her that she rather live in her dream world? Who takes pics of themselves "sleeping" in bed - just to post it on social media with a stupidly written out of touch caption? Give me a fucking break with this bullshit. To write this absolute garbage while people have lost their homes, livelihoods and in many cases their lives due to these Californian wild fires! This is what she posts?!

Mind you, the fires started on Monday.

I took a look at Jack's IG and he posted a beautifully written compassionate statement. This is a guy who comes across generally as a cold and indifferent asshole. Yet, even Jack said something about these fires. Karen has been posting constantly about it - lots of resources to help the victims of these fires.

Meanwhile, Olivia chose to post about preferring to live in her dreams, while announcing #BipolarDepression the same way she announced #LupusWarrior.

This is NOT the time for self loathing pity parties.

Now onto her song Don't Leave, which she included into her IG post.

Gee... I wonder who this song is about? Not a lot of work to think this one out.

Lets look at her childish lyrics:

Used to get lost in these halls I used to feel so small Now my steps are burned into the ground Used to be a mystery I knew when you looked at me Our worries didn't need to exist No, no, no

Oh, please don't leave me No, not right now I've become so meek My baby, now

I promise you can't make A mend that can't shake A curse with no cure A spell you can't break Ignore my echoed screams Don't let them haunt your dreams I know you're scared, I know you're right

Oh, please don't leave me No, not right now I've become so meek My baby, now

I don't even need to analyze this stupid song because the lyrics are so simple, you kinda get what it's about. You better not leave her Jack!

I've become so meek? A curse with no cure? A spell you can't break?

Are you kidding me? It's like a 10 year old wrote this.

[gingiesworld]

Blossoms of Spring

Requested by @louxbloom hope you enjoy it buddy.

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Amab! Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda had been living with her parents since she graduated from college. Hoping to find a job in her old High School. Once she had gotten the job, Y/N was the first person she had told. Heading over to their apartment with a bottle of wine in her hand.

"Hey." They greeted her as she used her key that they had made for her.

"I got the job!" She squealed as Y/N was fast to bring her in for a hug.

"That's awesome Wanda!" They exclaimed as they ushered her inside. Grabbing two mugs as Wanda looked for the corkscrew.

"Where's the corkscrew?" She questioned as they smiled.

"In the shop with the glasses I have yet to buy." They told her as she just laughed. Watching as they got the boning knife from their fishing kit and took the cork out. "You're lucky I know my way around a knife."

"That's only thanks to your dad and his obsession over fishing." Wanda told them as they poured the two mugs out.

"To your future Wanda." They toasted her, clinking their mugs together before they ushered her into the living room. Of course she was fast enough to grab the wine and took her seat beside them.

"I can't wait to move out." Wanda told them as they smiled at her, listening to her rambling about growing up and paying her own way.

"Move in here." Y/N blurted out.

"What?" Wanda questioned as Y/N cleared their throat.

"Move in here, I have a spare room. It's close to the school and it will be nice to have the company." They told her as she smiled endearingly at them. "We can figure out the bills and rent once you're settled in and have your first pay check."

"You'd do that for me?" Wanda questioned as they nodded.

"You're my best friend Wanda." They told her, speaking the words that would hurt the two of them. As the week went on, Y/N had helped Wanda pack up her things at her parents. Y/N soon come across Wanda's nightstand, not realising that Wanda would be embarrassed. "You naughty girl." They teased Wanda as they held up a pink vibrator. "I thought you were innocent."

"I am." Wanda blushed as she moved them over to her drawers and took over her nightstand. Only to regret it when Y/N found her lacey thongs.

"Ooh my, a matching set." They teased her as they held up a red lacey lingerie set. "I bet you looked sexy for whoever you bought this for."

"You know very well that I haven't." Wanda snatched it from them. Scowling as they chuckled at her. But the image of Wanda in that specific set was now burned into their mind.

As Wanda had settled in her new home, Y/N had made sure that their were places she could hang her photos. They wanted her to feel at home in their apartment.

Over time, the two found it hard to ignore their feelings. Wanda would always blush at the simple gestures, like making her coffee when she doesn't expect it. Buying her flowers as they went to do the grocery shopping. Always telling her, 'I saw these and thought of you.' All the time as Wanda fell more and more for them.

The night they had put on Dick Van Dyke, Wanda's favourite episode and food from her favourite restaurant as she soaked in the bath after a hard day at work.

Once the food was eaten and the show was paused, Wanda turned to face Y/N with a questioning look on her face.

"Why do you do all of this?" She asked them as they sighed. Getting ready to tell her the truth about their feelings.

"I uh." They cleared their throat nervously as they turned to face her, gazing into her curious eyes as she hoped to hear what she wanted to hear. "I know we have been best friends forever and we have always been there for each other and over that time in High School." They took a deep breath. "I started to fall for you Wanda. The person you are, I love everything about you. I am in love with you Wanda and I know me say..."

Wanda never let them finish as she kissed them, their hands wrapping around her waist as they kissed her back. Wanda's hands wrapped around their neck as the kiss deepened.

Wanda soon straddled their lap and rolled her hips against their growing bulge. Wanda soon moaning as Y/N started to kiss down her neck. Sucking and licking as she moaned.

"Take me to your room." She told them breathlessly. They picked her up with ease, walking with her in their arms. Letting her feet touch the floor as the two stripped.

"You are beautiful Wanda." Y/N told her softly. Their hands wrapping around her waist, the two gasping at the skin contact before Wanda reached up and caressed their face, leaning up to take their lips in her own. Y/N guiding her to lay down on their bed, hovering above her, gazing into her eyes.

A lot being said in one intense gaze before they leaned in, kissing her tenderly before they ran a lone finger through her folds. Teasing her entrance as they kiss her lips, soon to be swallowing her moans at they fingered her.

The pleasure was intense in that moment, Wanda had given herself over to them. Every part of her was theirs and theirs alone. Even as they thrust their hips into her as the night wore on. Many positions as the two never wanted to be apart in any way.

It was sunrise when the two had finally finished, Wanda lay in Y/N's arms as the morning sun shone through the window. A perfect view of the blossom trees in the quad could be seen. Spring becoming their favourite season as the love they felt for one another had blossomed into something more breathtakingly intense.

"What does this mean for us?" Wanda whispered as she traced patterns on Y/N's stomach.

"Well, I don't want this to be just for tonight." Y/N confessed. "I want it to be for now, forever. You are my forever Wanda and I would love to see many more blossoms in the spring with you lay in my arms."

"I love you so much." Wanda whispered as she kissed them passionately. Looking forward to the challenges that lay ahead for the two to tackle as one.

[noellerain]

Antithetical ♡ [suguru x afab!reader]

noe: this man is living rent-free in my mind for days now so you can consider this fic a brainrot/love letter to this gorgeous son of a bitch.

Warnings: [ DEAD DOVE! ] dark smut, noncon/rape (reader to Suguru), somnophilia (reader to Suguru), femdom, babytrapping (reader to Suguru), profanities (vulgar words), intoxication, spitting, implied that Suguru is drugged but not by the reader, obsessive behavior (reader to Suguru), proofread once, Gojo has a cameo lol, just over all madness. [LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING! THANK YOU!]

+ BLOCK, DON'T REPORT!

[If you read the warnings then proceed to click/press the cut button, you consent on reading the dark material below.]

Suguru Geto is midnight personified. His jet-black hair reminds you of the night sky when it's void of the moon and the stars. His eyes are blackholes that can consume your entirety if you look hard and long enough. His scent smells like the Earth after rain: a unique, addicting scent that makes your stomach flip yet still brings you a sense of warm melancholia.

Suguru Geto is way out of your league. You know that. But while everyone is fawning over his annoying best friend, Satoru, your love-struck eyes are fixated on that enigma of a man. Just one look, whether it's intentional or in passing, can shake and blow you away like the flimsy petals of dandelions.

Tonight, as you stand in the dark corner of Satoru's living room while everyone else drinks and dances to the rhythm of the song booming from the speakers, the walls seem to close in on you. 

There he is, sitting on the couch with his arm around a girl. His hair is up in its usual bun; tresses hanging on the side of his face. He's wearing a simple white shirt and black cargo pants. The simplicity amplifies his good looks.

They say that he and Satoru are two different sides of the same coin. Satoru's boisterous personality is on the face; one look at him and your alarm immediately goes off. Meanwhile, Suguru's serenity is the reason why he catches people off-guard when his true colors show.

He is a fucking mastermind. He plays the good guy role; carefully making the bed and patiently inviting his victim to lay down on it. Perhaps that's their difference: Satoru's always in a rush, his thirst never quenches. Suguru, on the other hand, takes his time. You conclude that it makes the game more enjoyable to him. That sweet, sweet reward of fucking someone dumb after all the efforts you exert may be Suguru's personal brand of drugs.

He leans closer to the girl, whispering something in her ear. She laughs and the bubbling jealousy in your chest tastes more bitter than the liquor you're currently drinking in a red cup.

It's a vicious cycle of his. For two years now, you've been nothing but a bystander. Always in the corners, watching. You've seen him lay out an elaborate plan, working his way down to different women's panties. When he finally gets what he wants, he puts his pants up and throws them away like ragdolls. Then he puts his façade— back to square one again and again and again.

Your face contorts into a frown when he smoothly puts his hand on the girl's knee. From your perspective, it looks unintentional; like his hand just happens to be there. She smirks at him, obviously enjoying the situation she's in. Your eyes narrow on his long, slender fingers, now gently rubbing her skin. It's fucking funny how life slaps you in the face over and over; there he is, the object of your obsession, sitting next to someone else, to anyone else, to everyone else but you.

His fingers slide up her thigh and give them a squeeze; the hem of her miniskirt bunches up on her lap. Your mind is beginning to go into overdrive. It's so unfair. So fucking unfair. What do others have that you don't? You take a big gulp on your drink.

"Oh? What a pleasant surprise!" Satoru's loud voice snaps your mind to sanity; your soul back to the dark corner where you're standing.

You look up at him as he strides lazily over to you, a red cup in his hand as well. He's wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that hang loosely around his waist. "I don't usually see you at my parties. What's a pretty girl doin' here in the dark?"

He leans against the wall and takes a big gulp on his drink. You don't humor his attempt for a chat. You can still feel your simmering envy as you look down on the brownish liquid in your cup.

"Not gonna entertain me, huh?" He laughs; an annoying sound that grinds your ears. "I understand, though. After all, I have a better vision than my best friend over there."

You whip your head to him, confusion all over your face. Heart beating loudly in your chest at the mention of Suguru, his one and only friend. Your lips are pursed and your brows are deeply furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He drinks again, his electric blue eyes glimmering with malice. When he puts down his cup on his side, he gives you an impish smirk. "Heh. Watch."

He pushes himself off of the wall and begins to walk away. But before he's beyond your earshot, he yells: "Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

You roll your eyes. As usual, Satoru is a menace. A baffling menace. You do not get a single word he says and you have no plans on trying. After all, guys like him are meant to be heard, not to be listened to.

Your eyes go back to Suguru. He's still on the couch but fortunately, his hands are now off the girls' body. Instead, he's pressing his forehead with his thumb while his eyes are shut tight as the girl next to him continues to babble away. The sight strikes some chords in your heart. You notice the creased skin between his forehead. It only goes away temporarily when Satoru appears and hands him a red cup.

You gnaw on your bottom lip as he taps on his forehead again with the pad of his thumb. You glare at the girl whose red lips continue to move. What is she even saying to him?

Your mind begins to wander. If it's you who's next to him right now, you're fairly certain that you won't be talking at all. You'll stare at him and listen to everything he says; hang on to every word. But Suguru is not selfish like Satoru. You know that it will be a conversation between the two of you; not just him yapping away like Satoru does.

Your heart skips a beat just by imagining how he'll look at you while you talk. He will nod, smile... Laugh. Gives you pennies for your thoughts. You pray to a higher power for the chance though you're certain that you won't be able to mutter anything coherent.

A few minutes pass by and the girl leaves. Suguru also leaves and a part of you dies inside again and again every time you see him with another girl. Where are they going? Is he going to sleep with her? Kiss her, touch her, claim her in places your mind does not dare to imagine? You finish your drink in one gulp before storming to the kitchen to grab more.

Your childishness tells you that your anger and envy are valid. After all, you've been pining over Suguru for two years now. Every time you try to move on, there is a pang of guilt in your heart. You never had him but he lives in the trenches of your heart, his name emblazoned in your mind.

But the rational part that's left of your intoxicated brain tells you that it's wrong. That you have no right to feel this way. Suguru doesn't even know you. How can you let him put a chain in your limbs and control you this way?

You wipe the liquor that dribbles down your chin. You look up and see through your hazy eyes that there are less people in the living room now. What time is it? You look down on the bottle of alcohol that you're cradling in your arms. Hiccuping, you realize that you drank half of its contents.

You stand up and the world around you begins to spin rapidly. Your knees feel like boiled noodles, unable to keep themselves upright. But still, you persevered. You leave the living room, determined to see Suguru. You decide that the madness has to stop once and for all. You can't live your life—

"Second floor, last room on the West wing!"

"Fuck you." you mutter beneath your breath as you hit your head with your fist repeatedly. For some reason, Satoru's voice decides to pop up out of nowhere.

You hiccup and begin your search to find Suguru. You look for him outside, trying to spot him in smaller crowds. At the pool area, staring at the people fucking on the water, the bathrooms… he's nowhere to be found.

You crawl your way upstairs, opening the rooms but either they're locked, empty or some people are fucking like rabbits inside.

You squint your eyes as you peek through the crevice of another door you opened. Another couple is fuck— wait. The jeans pooling on his ankles, the tight black shirt and the messy mop of white hair...

"Satoru," you drawl, inserting your head through the space between the door and the doorframe.

He whips his head, bullets of sweat dripping down his face as he smirks. "Hey. Anything I can do for ya?"

His breath is labored as he speaks; his hips continuously drilling against the girl's cunt. You can't see her from the angle but knowing Satoru, he's into beautiful girls. Beautiful, whiny girls. Her moans sound pretty, too.

"Where's Suguru?" You ask, blinking slowly.

"Told ya," he laughs. "Second floor, last room on the west wing."

"K," you sigh. You close the door and pray for the poor girl. You've never seen Satoru in action before but gods, are the rumors right. He is merciless and bursting with vigour.

You drag yourself to the last room on the West wing. Frankly, you don't even know what you're going to say to him. Does he even know you? Is he going to even hear you out?

Dread fills you to the brim when you stop in front of the door. What if he's not even here and Satoru is just messing with you? Worse, what if you see him fucking someone else inside? Gods.

You slap your cheeks to try and get a hold of what's left of yourself. It's a good thing that you're still somewhat sober despite drinking half of that bottle. You thought the liquor will make you forget but here you are, about to make the most stupid choice you've possibly ever done in your life.

Staring hard at the door, you take a sharp breath in. Your shaking fingers close around the cold knob before slowly turning it. The door finally opens and you feel your heart throb in your chest.

You peek inside then gasp in surprise.

"Su... Guru?" You whisper, pupils blown wide from the sight sprawled in front of you.

He's laying down on the mattress with his luscious long black hair spilling on the pillows. His eyes are closed and his chest is heaving erratically. Bullets of sweat drip down his forehead and there is a deep frown on his face. He seems asleep but he looks far from being peaceful.

You enter the room; your eyes languidly take in the curves of his shoulders, the muscles on his arms and his chiseled torso that are illuminated by the shaft ray of moonlight pouring through the window. Suguru always opts for loose clothing; his naked image that you've sculpted in your mind is a drastic comparison to the real thing. You thought he's going to be built like the gods but... He isn't. There is still softness; a mix of godhood and humanity in his features and your fingers twitch with the desire to touch and hold him.

Your eyes travel down his black sweatpants. The poor garment is hanging on for its dear life on his prominent v-line. His lower abdomen has a pathway of light black bush that leads to his...

You swallow thickly. There is an indentation of his dick against the fabric. You know it's wrong but your body begins to feel that familiar warmth. Here he is, the source of your mirth. The destination of your late night adventures when deep-seated desires stir. The subject of your dreams, of your fantasies, the muse of your high as thick hot cum dribbles down your inner thighs while you gasp for air; reality settles and you feel pathetic with your fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt.

You should leave. But then what? Remain on the sidelines, longing for him, envying other girls and touching yourself to the idea of him? Here he is, served with his walls down. If you can have him once, just once…

You close the door. The sharp sound of the lock's bolt sends tingles all over your body. Slowly, you approach him. Shame burns your gut and makes your cheeks flushed. But you're here. You're here now. What matters is right now.

Slowly, you kneel in the space between his spread legs. The mattress shifts and you eye him nervously. But Suguru is still in deep sleep even when you pull down the waistband of his sweatpants and his cock springs free.

"Ah..." You breathe out, calming your heart. It's beating in your ears now as you stare at his length that's resting on his lower stomach.

The picture of his dick that you've crafted in your head is similar to the real deal and that makes you uncharacteristically giddy. It's on the longer side and its bulbous crown is pinkish in color.

With shaking fingers, you reach for it. He stays still even as your hand closes in around the base and gives him a few pumps.

"Suguru…" you whisper. The normalcy of you whispering his name like a prayer is true only in your bedroom as you touch yourself. But right now…

You continue your ministries as you stare at him anxiously. Is he going to wake up? A part of you wishes he does. Hoping that you will get to experience the stories you've heard from the women he fucked before. For him to watch you as you serve him, the memory ingraining in his mind. Your chest burns with envy again but you get a grip of yourself.

Who cares? The pad of your thumb caresses his tip. Your experience will be different. Exclusive.

You lean your entire torso down, your ass hanging in the air. You purse your lips and gather a blob of saliva before spitting it out on his dick. You use your own fluid as lube, pumping him a little bit faster now.

"So pretty, Suguru," you giggle when he breathes deeply. His cock is smooth and it's now starting to take a rigid stance. "I'm sure you taste pretty, too."

You descend your lips and pepper his length with feathery kisses. Lolling your tongue, you give him a few kitten licks, particularly the tip that you find endearingly charming.

He smells so good, too. Sweet like warm vanilla. You open your mouth and shove his length in. He's a bit longer than what you can take so your hands wrap around what's left of his dick, pumping it simultaneously as you bob your head.

He moans in his sleep, tossing a bit. Tears prick your eyes when his length hits the back of your throat. Your hands instinctively squeeze his hips, putting him in one place. You hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tongue swirling and licking the tip that's now leaking with precum.

"Haaa…" he gasps and you freeze.

You look at him; your eyes widen when you meet his dilating pupils. "W-what…"

He seems at loss but he doesn't push you away. Suguru blinks a few times at you as he heaves. You can almost see the cogs in his brain turn as he takes it all in.

You quickly release his dick with a loud pop before straddling him by the waist. "Shhh… It's okay."

You cup his face as panic settles in your nerves. You stare deeply into his eyes but notice that they're… absent. It's as if they are somewhere else even though they're looking at you.

"It's fine," you whisper. "It's fine. You're good. Trust me."

His head falls back on the pillows and he winces. You take the chance to finally kiss him, your legs pressing against his sides. He lays motionless, his eyes now closed. Panic dissipates from your nerves… now replaced by the thrill of it all.

You cup his cheeks and forcefully slither your tongue in. You shut your eyes and moan into his lips; he tastes like peppermint. Hollowing your cheeks again, you suck on his tongue.

When you pull away, a string of saliva keeps your lips connected. He opens his eyes, whispering something along the lines of "Who are you?"

You don't answer. Instead, you kiss and lick his skin. Worship every nook and cranny of his flesh, marking him. Your hands are all over the place too, touching him, staining his body with your shameless, scorching affection that you can no longer contain.

Your mouth envelops around his nipple as your other hand kneads on the other. You look up at him while you suck like a starved baby. He groans, his weak body trembling a bit.

"You like it?" You ask, swirling your tongue on his perked nipple. "You like being sucked like this, Suguru?"

He mumbles something that you didn't catch and do not honestly care about. Your lips go south, reaching his happy trail and his cock again.

"S-sto…p," he sighs when you press your face against his dick. "Stop… it…"

"But it makes you feel good, though…" you reply. "See? You like it. You're hard."

You shove it in your mouth again. Suguru groans like an angel as his hips buck upwards; his dick reaching the back of your throat again. He says he wants you to stop but his entire body's reaction does not match his words.

"Stop!" He screams, trying to pull away. But you keep your head in place, gripping his hips. Greedily, you suck him off until his cock trembles and spurts hot ropes of milky cum in your throat.

You pull away and swallow hard— he tastes salty. You smirk at him. He's frowning while gasping for breath.

"Wh…"

"Shhh," you shush him, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "It's alright. You taste so good, Suguru."

The words spilling out of your mouth, as well as the desire that is overtaking your body are beyond the heavens now. Your mind is in a haze and your pussy pulsates with need. You want him. You want him so bad it hurts.

"You seem weak," you whisper. "What happened to you?"

"I…" he mumbles.

You coo and kiss him again. "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe with me. I love you so much, Suguru. I love you so, so much."

You sit up on his stomach and take off your top. Your breasts spill out of the garment and Suguru can only watch with droopy eyes.

"I've always wanted you…" you mutter as you lift your hips. You take his hand and bring his fingers to your mouth to suck them.

When they're wet enough, you guide them to your aching cunt. You hold onto his index finger and use it to rub your warm clit. You keep your eyes on him as he remains still, letting you do whatever you want. He looks confused and it makes your heart ache. What's going on with him?

"Gonna put 'em in…" you whisper and slowly ease in two of his fingers inside you. 

A moan rips out of your lips when his slender fingers fit snug inside your walls. You move your hips— up and down, up and down until his entire fingers are coated with your cum.

You take them off, licking the middle finger before you align the index in his mouth. He whips his head to the side— a stubborn act of defiance that makes you annoyed.

"What the fuck? You did this with other girls, I bet. Other girls that don't fucking care about you," you angrily snap, cupping his jaw. "And you can't do it for the one who loves you? How dare you?!"

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips form a small opening. You shove his index finger in, coated with your cum. With a maniacal smile on your lips, you watch as he struggles.

"I taste good, right?"  You laugh and kiss him on the lips, tasting your own essence on his tongue. "I taste so good."

"S…sto—"

"Sh," you hush him. "Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you talk. I only want to hear you whine and moan. Understood? Such a good boy, Suguru."

You get off of him. Hastily taking off your jeans and underwear, Suguru's eyes widen in panic. Before he can move away, you position yourself on his waist, straddling him again into place.

"I was so fucking envious of the girls you fucked," you laugh. "They say you're good in bed. I'm a bit sad that you're too weak to show me but don't worry, okay? I love you. I love you so much, I'm going to make you feel good."

Suguru shakes his head when he sees you lift your hips. He winces when he feels you drag his dick along your clit, using your cum as lube. You spit on the crown before finally shoving him in.

You hiss in pain as his bulbous tip bullies its way inside you. Suguru thrashes for a bit before you finally take him all in. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you quickly move to ease the pain; bouncing your hips on his cock.

You look down and see him completely helpless. He's too intoxicated to even think straight, moreso move. It delights you to see him like this; beneath you as you use him like your personal toy.

"Suguru," you gasp for breath, leaning closer to him. "Does it feel good? I feel so good."

He whips his head to the side again but you don't care this time. You're too lost in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of you; caressing your gummy walls perfectly.

You anchor your hands on his chest and pick up the pace of your hips. It's starting to strain your legs and thighs but you're determined to reach the highest of highs. Strings of whimpers and groans escape his lips. You laugh upon realizing that he doesn't have a condom on and you're not taking any pills.

"Hey, Suguru—" your breath hitches in your throat when he hits that particularly sweet spot inside you. "You're gonna be so mad at me when you wake up tomorrow. Might as well get my fill, huh?"

It's all getting in your head. You arch your back as you put your hands on his knees to anchor yourself. You throw your head back, sliding in and out of him with ease. The squelching sounds of your skins are music to your ears.

Your mind wanders as your legs begin to tremble. God. What happens if you get pregnant? Just the thought of carrying Suguru's baby makes your entire body tingle and the knot in your lower belly tighten. You look down at him and smirk.

If by chance, you get the privilege of carrying his child, will he stay in your life? That's uncertain. But one thing's for sure and that is you will have a piece of him with you forever. A laughter slips out of your lips as the knot in your belly loosens and turns into a mess— hot cum gushes out of you and sprinkles his lower abdomen.

But you continue to move despite your shaking body. You need him to reach that high. You need him to cum deep inside you and fill your womb. Suguru's hips stutter as he lets out a guttural growl. You laugh once again when you pull out and see his sticky cum drip down your inner thighs. Quickly, you gather the fluid and shove your fingers inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

The reality sets in, akin to the times you spent alone in your bed. But this time, it's different. You don't feel pathetic. Matter-of-fact, you feel happy. Your dream is now fulfilled. This experience is yours and yours alone. And even if Suguru fucks other girls, it doesn't matter anymore. You have a piece of him in you now. You're certain that no girls had their ways with him until you. You were in charge and that made you feel powerful.

Suguru's eyes flutter until they finally close. Sweat drips down his forehead as his chest begins to heave deeply. His face does not look like he's in pain anymore and that makes you smile.

You lean towards him and kiss him for the last time on the lips before you get dressed. You pull up his sweatpants, his cock now flaccid. You don't bother wiping him clean. Even just for tonight, you want him all over you.

You leave the house with your head above the clouds; your throbbing cunt misses him already.

[aurorawritestoescape]

The Devil in Me

Pairing: DEVIL!Dieter Bravo x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Genre: smut and fluff, Devil AU

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, porn with almost no plot, allusions to sa, reader struggles with self worth, praise kink, breast play, thigh riding, blood play, vampirism, unprotected piv, daddy kink, oral(f receiving), fucking the Devil, creampie, religious themes, men’s thighs)

Summary: being an aspiring actress but failing to succeed, you decide to use an unorthodox method to get the desirable money and fame. You perform a summoning ritual in order to sell your soul to the Devil. Lucky for you, he pays you a visit and happens to be devilishly handsome.

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: the moment I saw Pedro’s Met Gala look, this thot was nailed into my brain. Hence the fic. Big thanks to @ozarkthedog for giving me a necessary push with this post. English is my second language, sorry for any mistakes or general fuckupery of the story;) <3

As long as you remembered, your only wish was to become a famous movie star with millions of fans who worshiped you. So you took various and fucking expensive acting classes, went to dozens of auditions where you acted your heart out. And still every time another nepo baby got the job of your dreams. You felt bitter as hell. You couldn’t bear the rejection, the harassment, slimy hands and hungry glances of producers and agents. Under the pretences of helping you, they hunted for your body like predators and gave nothing in return. The debts were pilling up, and waiting tables at a lousy café didn’t promise you any financial stability. You kept jumping high but still couldn’t grab that lucky ticket in the air. 

So when, at a flea market, you happened to see an old spell book, it immediately piqued your interest. You looked through the pages and noticed a ritual called "Summoning the Devil to Sell Your Soul." You laughed at first but, to your own surprise, paid for the book and brought it home. It was on a whim. You didn’t believe any of that hocus-pocus shit, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

…..

You were in your rented one-bedroom apartment, sitting on the bed and reading about the preparation for the summoning. You let out a laugh. It was so easy. Make the room dark. Light some candles. Say the spell. And voilà! The Devil himself would appear and give you everything you wished for in return for your  precious soul. You didn’t think much of it. 100% that it wouldn’t happen. But if by some crazy magical supernatural chance it did, you’d be ready. Your soul had been torn to shreds by disgusting and power-hungry men, so you’d be happy to replace it with the long awaited fame and money. 

You followed the simple instructions: drew the curtains to keep the light of the sunset out and lit all the candles you could find at home. You looked around and found the atmosphere quite relaxing. The air was heavy with a sickly mixture of scents - vanilla, pine, strawberry. Yet it was hiding the greasy smell of the Chinese you’d had before. The candlelight bathed the room in a golden light, its flickering flames making shadows dance on the walls. You plopped down on your bed and placed the spell book on your lap. At the back of your mind, you were laughing at yourself for being such a fool. But to an outside eye you’d have seemed serious and focused. Your lips silently moved, reading the spell several times. Then you cleared your throat with a cough, said "Fuck it!" and read the spell loudly.

….

Nothing happened. You were still alone in your shitty room, shitty apartment, living your shitty life. It wasn’t a surprise. You sighed heavily, closed the book with a thump and threw it on the floor. You climbed on your bed, got under the covers and buried your head in the pillow. Disappointment was gnawing at your gut. How could you hope that ridiculous summoning spell would work? You shut your eyes, feeling the tears fall on the pillow beneath you. 

You didn’t know how much time passed. You were in that trippy state between wakefulness and sleep. Then your whole body twitched and chills covered your skin. You weren’t cold, quite hot actually because of all the candles. All of a sudden, you felt the weight on the other side of the mattress. You turned rapidly and saw a man sitting next to you on the bed. His back was leaning on the headboard and his legs were stretched out and crossed at the feet. You jumped out of the bed with a scream and stared at him paralyzed with fear, eyes round and breath unsteady. In contrast with your own reaction, he seemed relaxed. His dark intent eyes had a humorous spark in them, looking at you with amusement, his plump lips were curled up in a smirk. His skin was tan, the colour of caramel and rich honey. He had an aquiline nose, a salt and pepper patchy beard and a moustache. His dark hair was neatly slicked back. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man you’d ever seen. But the most peculiar thing about him was his attire. He had a bright red coat with a red shirt underneath and a thin black tie. You glanced down to see that he was wearing black shorts which were covering little of his thick thighs. On his feet, he had black high patent boots with black socks peeking out. 

His smirk was replaced by a blinding grin and you heard his deep comforting voice. 

“Hi, darling,” he said, rolling R with his tongue, making the word sound delicious. 

“Wh...who the fuck are you?! Why are you in my apartment?!” you exclaimed in a panic, wrapping your arms around your middle. 

The stranger’s smile fell, and he looked at you with sad puppy eyes and furrowed brows as if you’d slapped him on the face. 

“You summoned me, remember?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes or your ears. With your voice lowered to a whisper, you asked him as if somebody could hear your secret, “Are you the Devil?”

His wide smile returned, making the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced. He opened his arms to present himself to you and announced enthusiastically, “Yes, I am! The one and only King of Hell, darling!”

 You were speechless.  What do people say in these situations? Would you like a drink, Satan? Why are you in shorts? It was crazy. So you kept standing there with an open mouth and widened eyes. 

Noticing your confusion, the Devil sat up, bent his right leg and started scratching his knee. “I understand your shock and all, but I’m a busy man, you see. People desire a lot of things these days. Thank God for consumerism,” he added, putting his hands together in a prayer and looking up. “Do you still want to sell your soul?” the Devil inquired as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

You closed your mouth and opened it again. “Yes! But to be honest, I didn’t expect the spell to work …and you look like this…it’s a lot,” you explained to him while fumbling with the hem of your t-shirt.

At that, the Devil’s face fell, and he looked down at himself straightening his coat and shirt.

“What’s wrong with the way I look? …wanted to try something new. And I’ve been told that it’s very stylish,” he retorted, glancing at you sideways.

In truth, you loved the clothes and the boots, but his childish reaction amused you and, feeling a little bolder, you decided to tease him.

“Been told by who exactly?” you smirked at him. “Demons,” he replied with his plush lips in a pout.

“Ha! They’re telling you what you wanna hear. They’re kinda your employees.” You crossed your arms and continued your taunting, “And this lip ring. What’s that for?”

The Devil sucked in his lower lip, touching the ring with his tongue and replied, “It makes me look edgy”. You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why do you need more edge, man? You’re the fucking Devil!” Oh, you enjoyed it. At hearing that he shrugged, growled, took off the lip ring and tossed it in the direction of your wardrobe. He then stared at you with narrowed eyes, as if trying to burn a hole in your face. You almost burst into giggles, seeing him like that. The big bad Devil got bullied by a human girl.

By the look of you he must have realised that you‘d been playing with him and his grin returned to his face.

“Haha, very funny,” he said sarcastically and leaned his back on the headboard again. “Let’s talk terms and conditions then, style expert. You give me your soul, I give you what you desire. What is it you desire, darling?” he added with a luscious smile.

The endearment made you blush. You cleared your throat and replied that you wanted to be a famous actress. He nodded and waved his hand as if brushing away your concerns. 

“No problem! You will be, beautiful! We just need to make the deal, and you’ll be the happiest and wealthiest star till the day you die. You’ll live for many wonderful years, but when the time comes I’ll see you in Hell” he explained with excitement on his face. You were aware of that condition but hearing out loud about the prospect of burning in Hell for eternity made you drop your head in doubt, a surge of nerves making you pace the floor along the bed.

Seeing your unease, the Devil crawled to the side of the bed you had previously occupied and sat there with his feet on the floor. You took a step back and looked at him as your fear returned. He was the Devil after all. His exposed legs were spread widely, almost touching yours. His long coat was laying on the bed like a crimson cover. 

He took your hand and placed it between his big, hot palms. To your surprise, the physical touch made your core tingle and the heart skip a beat. 

“You know what, if you aren’t sure, I won’t pressure you. You can go through some more auditions, do a couple of tampon commercials and may be one day your fame will find you.”

“No!” you exclaimed, almost startling yourself. You knew what he was doing, painting your dream impossible to achieve on your own, but the desire to make it big was so strong, all you needed was the smallest push. “I  can’t live like this any longer. I want it here and now.” 

Then adoration and content blossomed on his face and your chest swelled. 

“That’s wonderful,” he purred. “Now we need to do the deed, and it’s done.”

You swallowed loudly. “The deed? Mmm… As in ‘to have sex’?” 

His gaze drifted lower, taking in your form in front of him, and he responded in a husky voice, “You shall give yourself to me completely and fully, and then you’ll be mine forever.”

Of course. Men in power always wanted a piece of you, why would the Devil himself be different? But in a weird way, you trusted Him more than anyone else to make your wish come true, and so you whispered “O… ok.”

His whole demeanour changed in a flash. His face darkened, previously adoring eyes got flooded with lust and desire, the soft smile morphed into a hungry animalistic grin. 

It scared you. You glanced down at yourself, suddenly aware of your old almost see-through t-shirt and sleeping shorts covering not much of your body. You’d felt too comfortable with him before, in part forgetting who it was in front of you. At that moment, the air grew hotter and heavier. The candle flames began trembling rapidly without any breeze and the whole room got darker, resembling a crypt. The Devil’s red coat and shirt looked maroon. 

He still had your hand in his palms and gently pulled you closer to him. You were all the way between his legs and the Devil moved his right leg, slid the knee between your legs, placed his hands on your waist and pushed you down, so you could straddle his right thigh. You grasped his shoulders to stable yourself. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression was determined and lustful. His plush lips found your neck and you whimpered. The Devil smelled like smoke and your eyes watered a little. He started leaving open mouth kisses on your neck, making your eyes close. Your chest was flush against his broad shoulder, and you were sure he could sense your heart fluttering. 

“I promise to give you everything you desire, darling. But before that I’ll  make you feel devilishly good,” he whispered, nipping on your earlobe. “Do you agree?”

You nodded, but he needed to hear it.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you replied, and a peculiar feeling rushed through your body. Your eyes darted down and you gasped, finding yourself completely naked. Your clothes just vanished. His lips left your neck, and he was leering down at you, devouring your form. “Fuck…you’re gorgeous.” The praise made your head spin and your core tingle. Chills covered your whole body and you shivered.

“All trembling for me,” he murmured. “Such a good girl.”

His hands snaked down to your ass, palming your cheeks and pushing you closer to his torso. Your clit rubbed on the material of his shorts and a quiet moan escaped your lips. The devil grumbled, hearing the sounds you made for him. You felt his huge bulge pushing into your thigh. He lowered his head, reaching your breast with his mouth, and started to lick and suck on your bud.

“Delicious little thing,” the Devil cooed at you between his ministrations. You needed more, so you began grinding on his thigh at a steady pace whimpering softly. Your movements made the hem of his shorts rise up, and you felt his bare leg with your cunt. You were so wet, making a mess of his shorts and thigh. You’d never been so aroused before, and the need for a release was overwhelming. Soon your body and forehead were covered in beads of sweat, your legs trembling from exhaustion. He was guiding you with his strong hands gripping your hips and kissing you wherever he could reach. Your clit was throbbing, and soon you felt your core tighten and the burning in your stomach increase.

“Fuck! m'go… gonna cum!” you moaned through heavy breathing. 

“Yes, cum for the Devil, baby!” he ordered and slapped your ass cheek, leaving a slight burn. Your head fell back, the spine arched, and a hard orgasm shook your whole body. The strength left you, so he continued moving your body, helping you to ride it out. When overstimulation hit, you fell on his chest. You put your forehead on his shoulder, as aftershocks shook you from time to time. 

“No rest for the wicked,” he said, and suddenly took your exhausted body in his arms bridal style, and plopped you on the bed carelessly. 

You got a whiplash from the rapid change of position. You were on your back, and the Devil climbed on top of you, straddling your thighs. The tail of his coat was covering your feet. You couldn’t help but gawk at him. A strand of hair fell on his forehead. His broad and tall frame was towering over you, and his looming shadow covered almost all the room. It made you feel tiny and powerless under him. One moment you could swear his shadow had horns and giant wings, but you blinked, and it was normal again. The devil was leering at you with hungry obsidian eyes and, feeling exposed, you tried to cover your chest with your hands. But by some invisible force, your hands were yanked over your head and held there tightly. As if being touch starved, the Devil began kneading your soft breasts. He twitched one nipple hard, making you scream, but the pain was replaced by pleasure when he put his mouth on the burning bud and circled his tongue around it. He wasn’t rushing it, sucking on each breast for a long time until you couldn’t take it anymore. Overstimulation made you squirm and rub your thighs together, as your cunt was crying for attention.

Happy with his work, the Devil set up again, admiring your abused puffy nipples.

“Daddy’s thirsty, baby. Will you help me out?” You bit your bottom lip when you heard what he’d called himself. It was so twisted and your stomach was overflowing with desire for him. 

But the question confused you. As if to give you an answer, he placed his hand on your belly and, following his gaze, you noticed long, sharp claws on his fingers. You were sure they hadn’t been there before. You swallowed loudly and squeaked, “Don’t hurt me, please”

His grin widened as he cooed at you, “Don’t worry, darling. You won’t feel a thing."

The Devil pressed his index finger below your belly button and made a vertical cut with his pointy claw. You gasped, although the pain was bearable, just a little sting. You saw drops of blood appear, and his eyes sparkled. He dropped his head to your belly and licked the blood, moaning avidly. He made a few other cuts and cleaned them with his mouth. Though a bit scared you enjoyed feeling his tongue just inches above your cunt. You desperately wished he would move lower. When he was satiated, his head fell on your stomach, and he caressed your thighs and legs with his now both normal hands, humming quietly. A strange wave of affection took over you. You asked him if he could free your hands. He looked up at you with an air of confusion in his heavy-lidded eyes. It seemed that he’d forgotten having tied you up at all.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he replied finally in a hoarse voice. When your arms could move, you began combing his soft silky hair with your fingers and gently scratching his scalp. The Devil purred. He was still rubbing your thighs so you knew he didn’t fall asleep.

“Are you ok?” you finally inquired as if you were just talking to your lover.

“No one ever asks me that,” the Devil replied as he looked up. He gave you a sleepy smile and still seemed to be drunk on your blood.

You were awestruck, thinking how much he was like a human man, aside from the claws and the blood thirst. You wondered if he was lonely but didn’t want to break the comfortable silence.

After a few minutes he sat up and you noticed that all the cuts on your belly disappeared. The lustful expression returned to his face once again.

"Thank you, darling. You tasted divine,” he whispered as he climbed between your legs. “Would you like me to fuck you now?” he asked, leering at your spread cunt and gently tracing your slick folds with his finger. 

“Yes!” You said louder than it was intended. 

“Then beg for it, baby! Pray to your Devil!” he ordered with a mischievous smirk. Your cunt couldn’t bear another second without his attention. “Please! I beg you, fuck me please! Make me cum!”

Your words seemed to satisfy him. 

“Oh, I’d be happy to. Lie down and enjoy yourself. Daddy’ll take care of you.” Then you felt two thick fingers enter you. You moaned, arching your back and your fingers grasped the covers. His digits were thick, but you’d been dripping on the bed for a long time, so he entered you easily. 

“So tight, darling. We need to work you open first to receive the Devil’s cock in all its glory.”

He was pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside and pulling the filthiest sounds out of you. Then you felt his hot mouth on your cunt. He was lapping at your juices, swirling his tongue on your hardened clit and working his fingers. Soon he added the third and the fourth digit and fucked you steadily.  You never expected to stretch that much, but you guessed everything was possible with the Devil. He seemed to enjoy eating you out as much as you did, as he growled into your cunt, the vibrations taking your pleasure to the highest level. 

“Such a nasty girl, giving your soul and pussy to me,” he said, leaving your cunt for a second and licking his lips.

You whimpered at the sight. He was turning you on even more than you could imagine. Soon, his and your moans created a sinful harmony together

“God!” you cried out and he slapped your cunt with his free hand. “Devil, baby, not God!” The pain mixed with pleasure sent electricity through your core and another orgasm hit you. You gushed all over his hand and lower face and he drank you up like it was the tastiest nectar. Finally, you pushed your legs together to stop him from licking you. 

“Now you’re ready for my cock”, he said, sitting up, then grabbed your hips and span you on your stomach. Your face hit the pillows, and your body felt cold as the covers were soaked with your sweat and juices. 

“Elbows and knees, baby,” he ordered. The motion was so rapid you needed a moment to obey, but he impatiently yanked your hips in the air with his big hands.

You heard the rustling of his clothes and then his cock landed on your ass. By the weight of it, it was huge. You turned your head to get a peek and saw his enormous erect member with red angry tip leaking precum on your ass cheek. You got nervous, and he smirked at that. 

"Don’t fear, my dear. I’ll be gentle." 

That was a lie. One moment you felt his tip at your entrance, and in the other he plunged his hard length into you to the bottom. You yelped, suddenly feeling full to the brim. 

“Mmm, such a greedy pussy. Sucking daddy in so well.”

His first push made your front slide forward on the bed, so his arm circled your middle to keep you still, the other hand pushed between your shoulder blades, making your spine arch even more. He started fucking you with strong and deliberate thrusts, and the bliss in your core made your eyes roll back. Loud moans were leaving your open mouth as you were drooling on the pillow. You could sense every vein of his thick cock, and his tip was pushing at your cervix, causing a delicious ache. 

“You gonna come again, baby”, he said and it wasn’t a question. “I can feel you squeezing me. Let daddy help a little”.

Suddenly you felt pressure on your clit. You looked down but didn’t see his hands as they were still holding you in place. The invisible force returned and began circling your bundle of nerves in tight strokes and gently twitching your nipples. You didn’t need much time to reach the third orgasm. Every nerve was electrified, making your limbs and torso shake uncontrollably. Your cunt was flattering around the Devil’s cock and that made him growl, “Yes, that’s my girl.”

The invisible hands left your body as soon as the muscle strength left you. If not for him holding you by the waist, you would have plopped down on the bed. His pace increased and the slapping of his hips on your ass was getting faster. At last, he started cumming. You felt his cock pulsate inside your channel, filling you with his hot seed. He was pumping his cum and your juices back into you vigorously accompanied by lewd sounds and his snarls. Some time passed and he was still going. You were completely spent, and your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. When he finally stilled and pulled out, he lowered your hips gently and laid down next to you. You felt his cum leaking out of your hole.

Then the Devil took you in his arms, so you could rest your head on his chest, and he covered your legs and ass with his coat to keep you warm. 

He pinched your chin with his fingers and tilted your head up to face him. You were looking at each other with gratitude and satisfaction. His dark eyes were trailing the lines of your features as if they were constellations in the sky. Your breath was once again stolen by his beauty.

Then the Devil kissed you. His plush lips were first gentle, but when his tongue slipped inside your mouth, he tightened his arms around you and kissed you hard. He tasted like something sweet and spicy. You were glued to each other for a long time, and you purred in his arms. It was a parting gift and at the same time the kiss sealed your destiny. When the Devil’s lips left yours, you whined. He smiled at your greediness.

“Before you go to sleep, we need to sign the contract, darling”. You followed his eyes and saw that he was holding a big parchment. 

“Let me help you, baby.” He took your hand and put your index finger in his mouth. A sting made you wince. He pulled it out and pressed your fingertip onto the paper. It left a crimson mark on the contract.

“That’s it. Now you are mine forever,” he explained with a soft smile and licked your finger making the bite mark disappear.

You furrowed your brows looking up at him, grabbed his tie and tugged him closer to your face.

“Wait. You told me that we just needed to fuck to seal the deal. Was it even necessary?”

He chuckled and then whispered in your ear “Well darling. You’re so stunning. How could I not? You should’ve known better than to trust the Devil.

You giggled and pushed your face into his neck. He still smelled like smoke, and you thought that it was your favourite smell in the world. You closed your eyes and soon drifted off to sleep. 

When you woke up, the bed next to you was empty, the candles had burnt out and the morning sun was peeking through the curtains. You sat up and wondered if it all might have been a dream. The contract, the Devil and the best sex of your life.

But the next moment your phone buzzed with a call and, when you picked it up, your whole life changed. 

😈

Thank you for reading! <3

Comments and reblogs are appreciated💋

Part 2

[saintsir4n]

5. FIRST DATES

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

"HOW'S this look?"

Carson stepped out of her room, to show off her date fit. Her hairless legs were the first thing that caught Keelie's attention, her fine v-neck strappy rose-coloured dress was the second. The material accentuated her curves, her stud earrings and cross necklace were perfect accessories. Her relaxed hair was brushed and slicked up in a bun.

She wanted her makeup to look as natural as possible even though glitter coated her eyelids and she had on more lipgloss than usual.

"You lookin' to get some tonight right, how long has it been?" Keelie finally said after picking up her jaw from the wooden floor.

"Shut up," Carson denied, despite wearing her favourite and most scandalous lingerie beneath the dress. "Just 'cause you gotta girl you wanna mock me." She murmured, picking up her sandal heels.

"But for real, you look fine. He's gonna have a heart attack," Keelie cackled, amusing her friend.

Carson winked, "Not before he gives me some."

"I know that's right."

"Where's takin' you?" Keelie questioned, sitting down on the sofa, trying to get all comfy for her night in.

"Cha Cha Cha."

"Cute, he payin'?" She instantly received a deadpan look from Carson, who picked up a bag that matched her shoes.

"I wouldn't be goin' if he weren't. Please I've messed with broke boys before, never again. Brian has a car, money... well as much as me and is easy on the eyes," Carson listed, adjusting her dress.

"But that name..." Keelie said wincing.

Neither of them was the biggest fan but oh well.

"I know, but pet names exist," Carson joked, rolling back her shoulders.

"Thank God, imagine moanin' Bri –" A knock at the door cut off Keelie. "Speak of the blonde devil and he appears at our door."

Carson calmly shuffled over to the door, ignoring her friend's giggling and pulled it open, revealing a beaming Brian whose smile only widened when he saw her.

His eyes dragged from her stunning face to her shoes.

"Like it," Carson showed off her fit, whilst holding onto the door.

"Do I like it?" He gushed, "Shit, it's better than I dreamt."

"You were dreamin' about me? Do I live in your head rent-free?" She flirted, allowing him to come into the house but his hand caught hers on the way in and didn't let go.

"Maybe."

She bit down on her lip, "Maybe huh?."

Keelie gagged from the sofa, though, couldn't help but think they looked very good together. His simple yet effective style complemented the pink that always clung to Carson.

"Eww, get out already, I have a Project Runway marathon to watch," she feigned disgust, turned away and picked up the remote.

Brian didn't even mean to ignore Keelie but his girl — correction Carson, was right there. He nodded at the spunky girl who mockingly smiled at him.

Carson called out behind her, "Call Mia or somethin'."

Keelie groaned,  "Have a nice night, look after my girl Ben Affleck, and wear protection!"

__

Once they got to the restaurant, Brain pushed in her chair, then rounded the table and sat opposite her. They each ordered their food and sipped on their drinks, waiting for it to come. The place seemed to be busy and booming but the paid paid no mind to the noise, the way they lived prepared them enough.

"So how is it, anyways that the — the gang came to be?" Brian asked, wanting to know more about them.

Of course, he wanted to learn Carson, he was already captivated by how she carried herself, how she spoke, laughed and pretty much everything else. Even on the drive over she teased him, pretending to grab the clutch when he was busy being distracted by her beauty. Usually, he was a focused guy but around her... it was different.

"The what?" Carson let out a laugh as she took another sip of her water.

His brows furrowed, "The gang."

"The gang? No, we don't call ourselves a gang."

He leaned forward, "Well, what do you call yourselves then?"

"We're a team. They call themselves a team. Well, I'm sure you've heard me say crew, but just say team."

Brian leaned forward on his elbows, "All right, so how is it that the team came to be?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." A smile burst onto his face, waiting for her to tell the story.

Carson sucked in a deep breath, "Well, I never knew my mom. My dad raised me before he got sick..." she trailed off, always finding it hard to talk about her father's illness.

"Hey, you don't have to go on," he gently grabbed her hand from across the table, making her heart flutter.

He reassured her and so she slightly changed the topic.

"My dad spent years workin' at F1 for a while before meetin' Jack Toretto."

His eyes comically widened, "Damn, F1?"

She nodded along, "Yeah, he kept a few things, the toy cars and all that, but most importantly all the skills he learnt stayed with him. He helped Jack with a few things, whilst I was teethin' in the garage. The Toretto siblings looked out for me."

"So they're your family," Brian never realized how close she was to them, it made him think.

"Exactly, since I was in diapers, explains why my Dad made theirs my godfather, vice versa."

"What about Vince? You're close with him right?" Brian went on to ask, only letting go of her hand when their starters were placed on the table.

He missed the feeling, so did Carson, but they had to eat at some point.

"He and Dom were childhood friends. So he saw me like a little sister," she explained and caught the scepticism flash through his sparkly eyes.

"Just a little sister?" He pressed, picking up some plantain from his small plate.

"Yes, just a little sister," she repeated, but it was clear Brian was highly cautious around Vince, "Letty was a different story. We were friends before she caught Dom's attention. She was always into cars. Ever since she was, like, 10 years old. So naturally, you know, Dom always had her attention. And when she turned 16..."

"...She had Dom's attention." Brian finished her sentence and took a sip of his drink.

"Yep," Carson had to look away from him for a second, his smile had her weak in the knees.

It was a good thing she sat down.

Brian asked after chewing on another piece of plantain, "How is it that Jesse fits into the whole thing?"

"Jesse?" Carson repeated, smiling toward the waitress who placed the rest of their food on the table. Brian could see how happy she was with the food. "Well, Jesse and Leon just sort of showed up one night and never left. Like little weeds. Don't get me wrong, I love them. Jesse's like my annoying older brother and Leon is like that cousin who appears everywhere."

"And Keelie, one of my main tormentors?" He humoured.

She chuckled, "She's like my twin. Only older by a year but she got me through a lot, even got me a job at the salon straight outta graduation and let me stay with her."

Brian hummed in acknowledgement, eating his main course, realizing how much Carson had been through even if she didn't say it. Her smile tended to conceal a lot and whether or not it was real, he knew she was a fighter and the team was her family, who fought alongside her.

It made him question a lot.

"So that's your story?" He asked, half of their plates were in their stomachs.

"Yeah, and now it led me to you," she playfully jabbed her forward in his direction.

"Mm-mmm." Brian hummed in disagreement. "No. No." Carson cocked her head to the side, wearing a confused look that he thought was cute, "I think we would've met regardless, would've made sure of it."

She blinked in shock, "You would've?"

"Yeah, Sonny."

The nickname fell from his tongue so effortlessly that she almost missed it.

"Sonny?" Carson repeated, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take flight.

"What, you don't like it?"

Hee face scrunched up her face, doing everything in her power to not look like she was hanging onto his every word but it didn't work.

"It's cute."

"Mmm," he winked at her, then finished most of what was on his plate.

She appreciated he wasn't one of the people who ate with their mouths open or were very messy.

"So what about you, pretty boy? You close with your folks?" She dared to ask, eyes darting to her plate so she missed the alert expression on his face.

"My mom raised me. Dad wasn't really in the picture."

She raised a questioning brow, snapping her gaze back to him, "You didn't know him or...?"

"He would call the cops anytime I came round."

Her eyes doubled in size, shocked to find he looked calm as ever, so she changed the subject.

"Any siblings?"

"None."

She slowly nodded, "That's cool."

Carson noted how short his answers were, but decided not to think about it too much, he's not comfortable talking about his past, she concluded.

"Shit, that reminds me, speaking of families, my dad always wanted to get me some car bling, you know those cartoon sunshine bobble things to hang from the rearview mirror."

"Why don't you get it now?"

"Never know where to find the exact one, and I never have the time," She replied, pursing her lips as ideas popped into his head. The leftover food on his plate got her attention, "You done with your plantain?"

"Yeah, want some?" she nodded, and went to take it but he stabbed his fork into the sweet yet thin delicacy and shook his head, "No, I'll feed it to you," Carson obviously wasn't expecting him to do this. "Open."

After getting over her initial surprise, she ignored the smirk on his face, leaned over and decided to mess with him, by accepting the food, teasing him with a soft moan when she took it in her mouth and even let her eyes flutter for a few seconds.

Brian swallowed the knot in his throat, but that didn't stop the heat from spreading to his cheeks. Fuck, was he flustered, as was she, but she managed to conceal it better.

Carson sensually wiped the corners of her mouth as his fork clattered against his plate.

"Delicious."

Brian sharply exhaled and waved down the waitress, voice coming out a bit squeaky as he exclaimed, "Can we get the bill?!"

__

His mouth captured hers when he pressed her against his living space at Harry's. Their kisses were more passionate than either of them thought, there was a desperate edge to them, needy almost. The drive over to his place was breathtaking, she never felt so safe despite his foot hammering down on the gas pedal.

Carson's gasps and whimpers were music to his ears, only inspiring his hands to move along the flint fabric of her dress and slowly peel it off of her as they stumbled over to his bed, leaving a trail of shoes, her bag, his shirt and pants behind.

Brian's touch was like fresh air, satisfying and she only wanted more. He found every curve, caressing and pinching only drawing more moans from her.

Although neither could see well, the moonlight lit up his bed, showcasing her lingerie, to which he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Look at me," he demanded, pulling away, resting between her legs, finding the pool of desire he wanted to soak up and consume. Her darkened gaze caught him pulling away her underwear and finding solace between her thighs where he gripped her tighter due to her every moan and kissed after her every gasp. She struggled to keep eye contact but his baby blues were a beacon and his tongue was his tool of pleasure that pulled her closer to her high. He thought that a win was nothing compared to this, not at all. She tugged at his curls, begging for him not to stop and he complied, "God."

It took seconds for her eyes to roll, and her legs to quiver, whilst letting out a silent scream as he stared at her in awe, wishing and needing more from her.

He was relieved of the rest of his clothes as was she, letting her breasts free of the erotic bra and glide against his chest the second he came up to meet her lips again.

She moaned at the taste on his tongue.

"Not bad for a pity date huh?" She playfully groaned at the quip. "You okay?" He wasn't satisfied by her nod, he needed verbal confirmation, "Words."

She shuddered at his demand, "I'm more than okay."

He flashed a smile and looked at her once again. The illuminating moon lit up her brown pools, entrancing him from where he hovered. Just as he was about to take her hands in his, she stopped him.

"No lover boy, get a condom, I swear you wanna trap me, or somethin'."

He licked his lips, still leaning on his arms, "Want me to?"

"Don't — strap up," she practically shoved him away, laughing with him, and although the thought of it was funny, she wasn't ready to be a mom or even sure that she wanted to be one. Brian looked serious after a while, coming back with a condom, he found his place between her legs then he pushed them around his waist as she grabbed onto his biceps. "You good?" She breathlessly questioned after seeing the look in his eyes.

"Have you done — you're not a virgin right?" He cringed at his wording.

She was amused that he was even asking, "No I'm not a virgin."

"I don't wanna hurt you," he mumbled against her lips, ceasing her impending laughter as a warm feeling settled in her chest.

"Oh, well it depends how you put it down," she whispered, and with how he teased her, she couldn't imagine any disappointment. He deeply chuckled at that, glad to receive confirmation and grabbed her hands. With a gentle thrust, Carson sunk further into his bed, consumed by his deep and slow movements, that had her drawing for breath after each moan. "Fuck."

As for first dates, Carson was blown away.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

a/n:

soo... the ship has sailed officially. carson was willing to spill everything because she trusts brian, will that come back to bite her in the arse? i mean he was very haste and quick with his answers on the date, it's upsetting because people will call her naive for accepting them but she was being kind.

i think they're so cute and properly one of my fave couples to write out of all my stories.

halfway through the story now. next chapter will be a filler, but i loved writing it. simply exploring her bond with him is just so heartwarming but how do you think it will all play out in the end?

[scuttlingcrab]

After rereading the last two installments of the Tailor Tav™️ saga, where Raphael crosses paths with her at a ball and where he reaffirms his desire to commission another piece from her, and the unrelated (I'm assuming) piece where Raphael tries to gift Tav something, I can't help but picture how Raphael would react to Tav teaching him a bit of her craft—at least the non-magical parts of it. Maybe she can use an offer to teach him as part of a bargain with him to free her from the stipulations that ban her from creating for anyone other than Raphael himself? (also I just love the idea of this devil and his a mortal having something like a shared hobby together and/or Tav being a gracious teacher who doesn't belittle Raphael's early efforts when they inevitably aren't quite as perfect as he'd hope, but I'm getting ahead of myself here; just wanted to let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind)

Tailor Tav™️ is back! I've been looking forward to this one for awhile and really hope you enjoy! Thanks for filling my inbox with gems like this! x

Summary: Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Notes: Based on A Perfect Fit, Dressed to Kill, Shadowy Deals, and Dance with the Devil. Tailor Tav™️ has also appeared in a few other one-shots, hehe.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Trial by Fire

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

“Will you hold still?” Tav asked, her voice on the edge of frustration. 

She quickly put out the growing flames with a spell, stopping the fire before it began to overtake the rest of the table. 

Raphael sat sourly beside her, completely out of place in her tent. He had humiliated himself, feeling like an outright fool for the first time in over a thousand years. He held a charred piece of clothing in his hands, the fine material ruined due to his shoddy needlework and rising temper. Somehow Raphael not only failed to join together the fabric, but had created a stitch so crooked and tangled that nothing could be done to reverse his mistakes. The Devil would need to start over. Again. 

He shifted in the wooden seat, raising his hand as he prepared to snap his fingers, hoping to erase the day’s mortification permanently from his memory. Just looking at the wretched garment left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tav cleared her throat, her own scolding gaze rivalled Raphael’s disposition, causing him to lower his hand back to the table. 

Raphael’s seat was still smoking, the top of the wood charred from his last outburst. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the tabletop, small scorch marks growing blacker with the increasing tempo as he waited for Tav to continue.

“No magic, Raphael.” Tav said, the exasperation had disappeared from her tone, only kindness and patience remained, which pained Raphael more. “Now please, try not to melt this needle. It’s my last one.”

Tav placed the needle in her open palm, extending it towards Raphael. 

“I will do my best, but I cannot make any guarantees.” Raphael responded through tight lips, carefully retrieving the needle.

They’d been at it for hours, each minute that dragged on grew heavier on Raphael’s shoulders; weighing him down more than his increasing responsibility to secure the Crown of Karsus. Raphael had watched Tav carefully, making precise notes and calculations on how to anchor a thread and initiate the first stitch, yet his infernal hands could not grasp such a simple mortal notion. 

He must’ve burned over a hundred articles of clothing since he began, slowly depleting Tav of her resources as he struggled to amend his previous errors. He vowed to himself not to leave Tav’s tent until he conquered sewing, until he successfully made himself a basic tunic devoid of any flaws. He would never dare let that little mouse beat him at anything. 

Raphael was practically perfect, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. If he could, he would proclaim it from the highest mountain top for all living beings to hear. The Devil was a master connoisseur, and above all, a jack of all trades. He had to be in this line of work; after all, how else did he get so far without even an ounce of assistance from his beloved father, Mephistopheles? 

He prided himself in his studies, in the relentless work and countless hours of preparation done to lay the foundations for his future. He shadowed only the greatest painters, memorised the intricacies of politics from every realm, and even went so far as to read all the noteworthy books that have been published throughout the millennia; but nothing prepared him for the horrors of being a tailor. The job required an old fashioned sensibility, a delicate handmade approach to see any design through to completion. 

Tav leaned towards Raphael, lightly placing her hands over his in an attempt to guide him. He stiffened slightly at her soft touch as she began to lift his hands. Raphael discretely tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at Tav without bringing anymore attention to himself. 

The Devil needed to concentrate, but he found himself momentarily distracted as his eyes fell on a small pale scar that decorated her chin. Raphael’s high standards for his own appearance allowed him to grow obsessed with others’ imperfections; finding more beauty in mortal flaws than in their perfect physiques or conventional facial features. Tav had a peculiar allure about her that made Raphael’s attraction flourish the longer he spent in her presence.

She brought a dark piece of thread to her lips, wetting the tip of it with her tongue before placing it in Raphael’s hand. He carefully watched the act, something so mundane had a hidden layer of intimacy attached that caused his heart to unexpectedly flutter. 

Raphael took a long deep breath to calm himself, there was a risk Tav might feel his body temperature rise as his heart continued to slam against his chest, beating faster and faster like a cursed infernal engine. He slowly took in Tav’s scent, savouring the notes of cloves and roses, now mixed with just a hint of perspiration.

“OK…” Tav whispered, causing Raphael to unwillingly pull his gaze away from her. “Thread the needle, just like we practised.” 

Tav’s grip tightened as she helped Raphael push the thread carefully through the eye of the needle. She let out a loud sigh as it went through with ease, shocking them both.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Raphael responded, dryly.

“You nearly burned down my tent, twice, in the last hour! Please allow me this moment to celebrate.”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as his seat began to smoke underneath him.   

“No offence, of course.” Tav added, quickly taking the thread and needle away from Raphael, “you’ll get it, eventually. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Bah! Petty mortal idioms are of no use to me. We will continue, I have yet to learn what lies beneath the expertise of your craft.” 

Tav hesitated, cradling the needle and thread in her hands. 

“Listen, how about we take a break, yeah? I’m spent. With any luck you’ll finish this first piece within a fortnight.” 

“And is that how long it typically takes you to complete this type of labour?”

“Gods no! Half a day, maybe one at most. Of course, it depends what else I’ve got going on when I’m not fighting my way through Faerûn.” Tav grinned back at Raphael. 

The Devil held back a gasp. He had wasted an entire day catering to Tav’s ludicrous games and didn’t have a single piece of clothing finished to prove himself. Mortals cannot be trusted, even when their very souls were at stake they’d be foolish enough to risk it all if it meant satisfying their own agendas. 

“I’ve had enough of this blatant display of tomfoolery.” Raphael stood dramatically, pushing back the chair as he walked towards the tent's entrance.

The instant Raphael learned Tav went against her word, having the audacity to craft clothing for anyone but him, he nearly sent a torrent of Hellfire down on her camp. He had discovered the little mouse’s betrayal from Korrilla’s reports, his resentment spreading as he read through the detailed descriptions again and again. Tav had gifted all her companions garments ranging from nightgowns to luxurious capes, outfits that belonged to him. Tav went so far as to give out her clothing for free to random mortals she encountered on her travels. The little mouse had truly taken Raphael for a fool.

Raphael released his blistering rage on Korrilla, blaming the dwarf for her ineptitude and Tav's errors. For every piece of clothing Tav made in breach of contract, he added an extra day to Korrilla’s penance; temporarily stripping Korrilla of all Warlock powers and forcing her to train his latest apprentice, Dolofina. He even denied her use of his healing baths until she truly learned her lesson.  

When Raphael summoned Tav to his House of Hope, demanding an explanation, he was instead met with another proposition. Tav would teach him her craft in exchange for her freedom from the stipulations of their agreement, relinquishing the creative ban Raphael had set in place.

“Just give it another chance. You will soon appreciate the work that goes into making garments, I promise you.”

“These idle promises are waning, little mouse. The terms have yet to be honoured.” 

“Gods, don’t you understand? You will still get exclusive clothing. You think I would dare make another doublet like yours? That was my greatest work, and I only hope to do better with your next piece.” Tav paused, rising to meet Raphael at the entrance. “But I need to make a living.”

“You think life will just return to normal after the Elder Brain is destroyed? A foolish fancy.”

“I have a shop waiting for me in the Lower City, collecting dust. I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste when this is all over.”

“Your little shop is meaningless against what I can offer you in exchange.”

Tav nodded, almost considering the possibility, the future they’d share together.

“As nice as that sounds I’d get bored eventually.”

Raphael titled his head, a smile slowly loosening his lips. He was surprised at how little anger he felt at that moment; in contrast to the fury he experienced throughout the day, a growing warmth rose in his chest. He took a step towards Tav, towering over her as he admired her grit. The little mouse was mighty, ferocious, and would not back down so easily. The Devil was very much looking forward to this fight.

“Mortals, ever so fickle.” 

He placed a hand on his hip, studying the tent that was close to shambles. But of course. It only made sense he failed learning to sew on the first attempt, such mortal professions were beneath him, unbefitting for his station and ability for comprehension. It would require more thought, more time. 

And what more did Raphael need to do in order to impress that creature? He held all the most important cards close to his chest, allowing no one else to peek behind the curtains. Perhaps there was something else he could dangle in front of her? Something more enticing, causing her to drop everything in allegiance to him.

Every great hero has their foibles and Raphael would discover Tav’s soon enough, as he did with all the others that came before her. Not only would he acquire the proper skills of her craft, but he would crack her open, dissecting every inch of that soul in the process.

“Very well. We will continue again at first light. And this time, I expect to leave with a finished tunic.”

[heirofserpens]

11. things you said when you were drunk .

OOC: just fyi this was heavily inspired by your Nagni POV Bellamort fic which still lives in my head rent free.

Liquor is helping assuage his anger somewhat. He shouldn't drink. He loathes not being in control. He is alone, so he does not mind. Until he is not alone.

Her footsteps are quiet but he hears them all the same; the presence and familiarity of her magic feels much like his own these days. He supposes it should make him less reluctant to this whole...ordeal. It does not.

He still does not want the child.

He does not turn but he continues to stare out onto the starry night sky. Above him is Orion but Bellatrix has been shining brightest these last few months. She is burning hotly, shining with splendour much like her mortal form. In his inebriation he scoffs.

"Of all the things you could refuse to do for me." He says loud enough for her to hear, "why this?" He turns then, "you've grown content hmm? Is that it?" Hairless brows knit in towards each other, "you think you can refuse your Master's will?"

He studies her silhouette in the darkness of the room and through the haze of liquor. She looks delicious. He has denied himself of her too long. Anger pulses his veins, the bottle beckons. He does not go to it. His steps are sure nonetheless as he moves closer to her. His lip curls half in snarl and his hand shoots to her jaw. He likes watching her recoil from him but today she does not. Still he hisses at her.

"How dare you defy me, Bellatrix Black."

It's her caress which mitigates him. It unclenches his jaw, it quells the anger he feels blistering through him. She is brave. She moves in against him as she whispers, "forgive me, Master."

He can not bring himself to scream at her again. He should cruciate her he should batter her with curses and hexes and all manner of dastardly violence. To defy him is sin. Yet he wants to forgive her.

"If you'd wanted this-" He hesitates but the liquor flowing his veins spurs him on, "-if I'd known. If you'd told me. Then perhaps..." He releases her and she tightens her grip on his hand, "I would've given you a child, Bella."

Her grip slackens for half a moment and something in him screams to stop. He cups her jaw with strong fingers which are now far more careful in their motion atop her skin.

"If it is truly what you wanted. Salazar knows I can not deny you for long." Wretch; he wants to add in his bitterness of the latter statement. Vixen. Seductress. He is just as much to blame for this doing. Thoughts come to the front of her mind that he reads clearly: why not allow her to keep it now then? His brow knits again, "it's not that simple."

"So you'd have given me what I wanted." She says with careful measurement though he hears the bite in her tone as she questions: "but only on your terms?"

She turns from him. He is confused by the motion. She is angry with him.

"No." He blurts before he can stop himself. "On our terms."

She looks at him the way all Blacks look at everyone who isn't one of them. She doesn't trust a word coming from his mouth. She's quick to remind him it doesn't matter because she's pregnant now and she wants to keep it. He's quicker still to remind her they have a war to win. She insists he can spare her for a couple of months. He insists that he can not. She purses her lips and she shrugs. Kill me then.

He raises his wand quicker than he can think. He points it at her chest and he bares his teeth. She does not flinch because he does not need a wand to kill her. He has no intention to hurt her and she knows it. Her eyes pool however and she steps a little closer.

"Please." She whispers. "Let me keep it."

Lord Voldemort lowers his wand after a time. His truth speaks behind liquor.

"Fine."