#which seems to go against his 'perfect' appearance. but it makes perfect sense for him

[dreadark]

bugs me a bit when people assume Ivan is some kind of genius or somehow naturally talented

he's really not at all. he just works ridiculously hard I mean we've seen his schedule what is this

literally anyone who put in this amount of work would end up getting good grades... if they didn't have a complete breakdown first guess you can consider that his "talent" can't break if you're already broken

Sua does actually seem like a natural genius though, she's tied with Ivan despite not doing... all that well she basically says as much

and she worked as a model (among other things) while attending Anakt Garden, so she managed being top of the class while also already having her career Ivan didn't do any of that, he only got popular after round 3 (idk what these rankings are out of, but if he's only 78th when Till was 5th...) despite being a top student I suppose Ivan didn't actually stand out much at first?

interesting how out of all of them, Ivan seems the least suited to singing on stage Sua's clearly talented, Till is a musical prodigy, and Mizi genuinely loves singing Luka is literally made for it, and Hyuna also loves singing and seems to have this natural stage presence

but all Ivan's good at is following orders

[ittybittyfanblog]

Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack.��

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 

“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 

 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 

-

-

-

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.” 

All in reverence. 

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference. 

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

_

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 

In short, you have no idea where you are. 

Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–

Wait a minute. Sylus. 

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 

And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 

You feel it before you hear it. 

“Perhaps not.” 

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 

Suddenly– 

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You–”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool – lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him – as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 

You meet his eyes. “You came.” 

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 

“Luke. Kieran.” 

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least. 

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for – and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM. 

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you– half-lidded and tender. 

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. New video for the Merc team and they rope the couple to answer questions in This or That. Which seems to be an instant hit among the internet. Feat their son, Jack. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

Unscripted Moments

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader, feat. Jack

Word count: 1.4k

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The sun was bright over Brackley as the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzed with activity. It was a special day—media day, where the team filmed content for their social media channels and sponsors. Among the lineup of activities, one stood out as a highlight: a “This or That” video featuring the Team Principal, Toto Wolff, and his wife, Y/n. To add an extra dose of charm, their young son, Jack, would join them.

The idea had been floated around for weeks. Fans adored Toto’s serious, calculated demeanor in the paddock, but whenever he appeared with Y/n and Jack, a different side of him came to life—one full of warmth, humor, and a little bit of mischief. The media team knew this would be gold, a perfect blend of light-hearted fun and family love that would resonate deeply with fans around the world.

As the day began, Y/n and Jack arrived at the headquarters, warmly greeted by the staff. Y/n was no stranger to the world of Formula 1; she had stood by Toto’s side through every victory and defeat, offering her unwavering support. Today, however, was different. It wasn’t just about the cars, the team, or the strategy. It was about their family.

Jack, bouncing with excitement, held onto Y/n’s hand as they made their way to the set. The production crew had transformed one of the spacious lounges into a cozy, living room-like setting. There were plush sofas, soft throw pillows, and a few framed photos of the Mercedes cars in action, giving the room a personal touch.

Toto, already on set, was talking to the director when Y/n and Jack walked in. His face lit up at the sight of them. “There’s my little man!” he exclaimed, scooping Jack up in his arms. Jack giggled, his tiny arms wrapping around his father’s neck.

Y/n watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. Toto was always busy, always on the go, but when it came to his family, he made sure they knew they were his top priority.

“Ready for this?” Toto asked, his voice light, but with an undercurrent of playfulness. He leaned in to kiss Y/n softly, his free hand resting on the small of her back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/n replied with a grin, adjusting the collar of Toto’s shirt before smoothing down Jack’s hair. “Jack’s been practicing his answers all morning.”

Jack beamed proudly. “I’m going to say ‘Airplane!’ every time,” he declared, which made both his parents laugh.

The director clapped his hands together, signaling the start of the shoot. “Alright, everyone, let’s get started. Y/n, Toto, Jack—you’re the stars today.”

The family settled into their seats, with Toto in the middle, Y/n on his right, and Jack perched comfortably on his lap. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the easy, loving dynamic between them. Toto’s arm rested casually behind Y/n, his hand occasionally brushing against her shoulder, while Jack fiddled with the buttons on Toto’s shirt, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Okay, first question,” the producer said, his voice lively. “Coffee or Tea?”

Y/n didn’t hesitate. “Tea, definitely.”

Toto shot her a mock-surprised look. “Tea? Really? I’ve been making you coffee every morning for years, and now you tell me you prefer tea?”

Y/n laughed, nudging him playfully. “You make it so well, I couldn’t break your heart by saying anything.”

Toto chuckled, shaking his head. “And all this time I thought I was being the perfect husband.”

“You are,” Y/n reassured him, leaning into his side. “Just with slightly misguided caffeine choices.”

The camera caught every bit of the banter, from Toto’s faux shock to Y/n’s playful smile. Jack, sensing the mood, contributed his own answer with a loud “Juice!” which earned a burst of laughter from everyone on set.

“Juice is a valid choice,” Toto said, ruffling his son’s hair affectionately. “But only when Mum’s not looking.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “Are you encouraging our son to sneak juice?”

Toto’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Only in emergencies,” he quipped, which caused Y/n to roll her eyes in mock exasperation.

The questions kept coming, and so did the laughs. “Mountains or Beach?” was next, and Y/n immediately answered, “Beach. There’s nothing like the sound of waves and the feeling of sand between your toes.”

Toto nodded thoughtfully. “True, but the mountains have their own charm. The peace, the quiet... Perfect for a getaway.”

“Perfect for escaping emails and phone calls, you mean,” Y/n teased.

“Exactly,” Toto admitted with a grin. “But honestly, I’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you two.”

The sweet comment made Y/n blush slightly, and the crew couldn’t help but let out a collective “aww.” Jack, who had been listening intently, chimed in with “Airplane!” again, sticking to his plan, which sent everyone into fits of laughter.

“Looks like Jack is sticking to his guns,” the producer said, still chuckling. “How about we change it up a bit? Dogs or Cats?”

“Dogs,” Y/n and Toto answered simultaneously, their voices merging into one. They exchanged amused looks, both remembering the countless times they’d been charmed by stray dogs during their travels.

“Especially the time we tried to bring one home from Monaco,” Y/n reminisced, her eyes sparkling.

Toto nodded. “That dog was convinced we were meant to adopt him. He followed us everywhere.”

“And he almost ended up in our suitcase,” Y/n added with a laugh.

“Jack would have loved him,” Toto said, glancing down at his son, who was now pretending to be a dog, barking softly.

“Maybe one day,” Y/n mused, resting her head on Toto’s shoulder.

The producer, sensing the perfect segue, moved on to the next question. “Formula 1 or Football?”

This one took a moment. Y/n grinned, knowing where her loyalties lay. “Formula 1, of course. How could I choose anything else when I’m married to this guy?”

Toto smiled, a bit bashful under the attention. “I’d have to agree, but,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I do enjoy a good football match. Just don’t let the drivers know.”

The cameras caught the playful exchange, the way Y/n playfully nudged Toto, the fond look in Toto’s eyes as he gazed at her. Jack, meanwhile, shouted “Cars!” in a burst of excitement, once again steering the conversation back to his favorite subject.

“You know what, Jack?” Toto said, shifting his son slightly so he was facing the camera. “One day, you’ll be in one of those cars, and I’ll be on the pit wall cheering you on.”

Jack’s eyes widened with delight at the idea. “Really, Daddy?”

“Absolutely,” Toto replied, pressing a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “But first, you have to promise Mum and me that you’ll always have your juice.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at the promise. “That’s one way to secure his focus.”

The producer smiled, flipping to the final card. “Morning person or night owl?”

Y/n and Toto looked at each other, this time with more serious expressions, though still laced with affection. “Night owl,” Y/n said with a knowing smile.

“I’m a morning person,” Toto countered, “though I’ve learned to appreciate the night more because of you.”

Y/n tilted her head, her smile growing. “You’re sweet. But you have to admit, some of our best conversations happen late at night, after Jack’s asleep, when it’s just the two of us.”

Toto nodded in agreement, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. Those are the moments I cherish most. Even if it means less sleep.”

Jack, who had been listening carefully, suddenly yawned, earning another round of laughter from the crew. “Looks like someone’s not quite sure if he’s a morning person or a night owl yet,” Y/n said, wrapping her arm around Jack and drawing him close.

The session wrapped up soon after, with the family exchanging warm goodbyes with the crew. As they walked off the set, hand in hand, the cameras continued to roll, capturing those unscripted moments that showed just how close-knit the Wolff family truly was.

When the video was finally released, it was an instant hit. The internet exploded with love for the Wolff family, with fans praising their natural chemistry and the way they made every moment feel genuine and full of heart. Jack became an overnight sensation, with his “Airplane!” answer and infectious smile winning the hearts of millions.

“More Wolff family content, please!” was a common comment, along with “Jack is the real MVP!” and “Toto and Y/n are couple goals!”

[lendeah]

Three times you get cuddly Astarion and one you do not.

“Don’t look at me like that. With the sweet little ‘disappointed I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it. I can’t be what you want to see in me.”

Based on this comment!

[ao3 link]

The first time it happened, you had been sleeping together for a few weeks. It seemed like there was an unspoken rule that you would leave soon after sex, giving him his space. You could sense his reluctance to be vulnerable and intimate, so you respected that boundary and didn't push him. But on this particular night, as you lay tangled in each other's limbs, there was a subtle hesitation from him. It was like a whisper of doubt, lingering in the air between you.

"Everything alright, Astarion?" you asked.

He seemed to get startled at this, as if caught off guard by your question.

"Wha- oh! Of course, darling. Everything is perfect."

You nodded, even though couldn't help but feel skeptical about his words. Maybe he needed space again.

"I guess I'll be going then," you said with a heavy heart, slowly rising to your feet.

You got dressed and began to make your way towards the door. Astarion followed closely behind you, his hands twitching nervously.

"Wait." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, seeing a hint of vulnerability in his usually cocky expression.

"I...I don't want you to go just yet." He admitted, looking down at his feet.

You could see the internal struggle within him, and your heart ached a bit for him. You walked back towards him and slowly reached for his hand, not wanting to startle him.

"What do you want, then?" you asked, softly.

He looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a raw emotion in his crimson eyes, and it felt like looking into his soul.

"I...I want you to stay the night. If that's what you want, of course." He said, hesitantly.

You could sense the vulnerability in his voice, and you knew that this was a big step for him. Astarion was not one to open up easily, and you were honored that he was willing to share himself with you.

"Okay." You replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Astarion wordlessly guided you back to his bedroll. This was new territory for both of you, but it felt just right. Hesitantly, he climbed into bed beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist. You couldn't help but smile at his nervousness; he was always so confident when it came to flirting and seduction, yet it was cuddling that seemed to make him flustered.

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the cold softness of his body against yours. It was a comforting feeling, being this close to him. He hesitantly reached out his hand, his fingers trembling as he gently combed through your hair. As you both lay in silence, Astarion's movements became more confident and soothing, his fingers carefully untangling any knots or snarls. You could sense the tension in him slowly dissipating as he allowed himself to open up and connect with you in this intimate way. It was a moment filled with vulnerability and trust, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

"Thank you for trusting me," you murmured.

Astarion stayed silent for a few seconds, before responding. "Thank you for staying."

Another significant moment was when he finally confessed his feelings for you. You had both agreed to take a break from physical intimacy, which you were completely fine with. However, you weren't sure if this also meant giving up your now nightly cuddling sessions together.

Your answer came when that night, as Astarion appeared at the door of your tent, pacing back and forth. You chuckled under your breath as you approached him.

"Do you require my services, Astarion?"

Astarion's eyes fixated on you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "My dear! I've only come here to see you." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "But perhaps we could have a more... intimate discussion?"

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. You thought you had left matters clear that same evening.

"Of course," you replied, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter your tent. Once inside, Astarion settled onto your bedroll while you sat beside him. He looked at you with a mixture of nerves and determination in his eyes.

"I wanted to discuss what we talked about earlier," he began cautiously.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. He cleared his throat.

"I... ehm. I know we agreed we wouldn't be intimate, but I was merely wondering if we could keep up..."

"Our nightly cuddle?" You filled in the gap for him.

"Err... yes," he grimaced awkwardly. "That."

You smiled warmly at him, finding his bashfulness rather endearing. "I'm glad you brought it up, Astarion, because I would kind of miss it if we didn't."

Relief shone in his eyes as he gazed at you with genuine gratitude, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"That's...I mean, it's only natural that you would miss it," he responded. "After all, how often do you get the opportunity to cuddle with someone like me?"

You rolled your eyes at his cocky remark, but couldn't hide the small smile on your face.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Finally, you broke the silence again.

"I think it's time for me to call it a night," you gave him a pointed look. "Care to join me?"

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise at your invitation, but he quickly composed himself and grinned wickedly. "I would be honored to share a bedroll with you, my dear."

As you settled down into your bedroll, you patted the spot next to you, inviting Astarion to join. He eagerly complied, curling up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making you feel loved and protected. He nuzzled his nose against your hair before placing a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. It felt like a promise, and brought a sense of peace as you drifted off to sleep in his embrace.

The third remarkable time happened just before reaching Baldur's Gate, when Astarion was gravely injured in a brutal fight. Your heart raced as you tended to his wounds, frantically trying to heal him as the blood pooled beneath him. As night fell, you collapsed onto the ground next to him, gently pushing away sweaty strands of hair from his clammy forehead.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you before settling down next to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, burying his head in your chest. Your fingers traced soothing patterns through his soft ivory curls as he drifted off into a meditative state. After a while, you felt his usually tense muscles relax over your body. He was asleep, or at least in a state of deep meditation. You continued to stroke his hair gently, not wanting to wake him. In this moment, he looked completely peaceful – a stark contrast to the dashing rogue always ready with a witty retort.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you gazed at him with concern.

He looked up at you, a weak smile on his lips. "I owe it all to your care."

As you lay there in the quiet darkness, an unfamiliar sentiment rose within your chest, filling it to the brim. You weren't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, Astarion had become more than just a companion or a lover. He was your partner in every sense of the word – someone who understood and accepted you for who you were. And even though none of you could still put a name to whatever you shared, you knew for certain that this bond was something precious, something to be cherished. You realized in that moment, it was love.

A couple of days later, he met his sibling at a pub in Rivington and you had a disagreement that left a bitter feeling in your mouth. That evening, you waited for him in your sleeping bag, as was customary. But as the minutes ticked by, it seemed like he wasn't going to show up. You began to wonder if he wanted you to seek him out instead; so, you got out of your bedroll and crossed the short distance between your tents.

"I am in love with you," you murmured into the silence. The admission took your breath away as you shivered slightly under Astarion's touch, your heart pounding against his ear. Would he feel the difference in your heartbeat? Could he sense the shift in your feelings?

"Astarion?" you asked upon entering.

He was sitting on his cushions, staring blankly at the wall. At the sound of your voice, he turned to look at you with a distant expression, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

"Are you still mad at me from this morning's fight?" you asked, sitting down next to him.

He let out a sigh and shook his head. "No, it's not that," he replied.

You frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What is it then? You know you can tell me," you said softly.

Astarion hesitated, his inner turmoil evident in the clench of his jaw. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "I can't...not tonight. I need to be alone," he rasped out before turning away, unable to meet your gaze.

Your heart dropped at his words, the worry and concern evident in your expression. You knew that Astarion wasn't one to push you away, at least not without a valid reason.

You didn't want to leave him like this but knew that he needed this space right now, so you gave him a small smile and silently went back to your tent.

BONUS

The next day, you tried to focus on other things, helping the group with their tasks and keeping your mind occupied. But as night fell and you lay in your bedroll, you couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at your insides. What if this was about your confession? What if you had overstepped ahead of time and he couldn't reciprocate?

You turned over restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you got up to go to Astarion's tent and at least get some answers. But just as you were about to open it, the flap of your own tent was pulled back and Astarion stepped inside, a conflicted look on his face. Before you could even utter a word, he spoke first.

"Forgive me for my odd behavior last night," he began, his voice low and hesitant. "I've been trying to figure out everything."

You sat down in your bedroll again, giving him your full attention as he took a seat next to you. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what was coming. He let out a sigh and leaned his head against your shoulder.

"What's wrong?" you asked gently, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

"I just...I've been thinking about what you said that night," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What did I say?" you asked, not wanting to assume anything.

He took a deep breath before answering. "That you are in love with me."

Your heart skipped a beat at those words.

"Did...did I misunderstand?" Astarion asked hesitantly, looking up at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

"No," you replied firmly, cupping his face in your hands. "I meant every word I said that night. I'm in love with you, Astarion."

He seemed to take a moment to absorb the weight of your words, his eyes blinking slowly as he searched your face. A myriad of expressions flickered across his features — surprise, fear, and finally... sadness.

"I... I am sorry, but I can't fully reciprocate right now, with everything going on," he confessed, his voice strained with an unfamiliar vulnerability. His admission made your heart clench, but before any words could escape your mouth, he continued.

"I've never been in love before. I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like, what it's supposed to be. But I know I have this...this feeling that keeps me close to you, that keeps my thoughts wandering back to you no matter where I am or what I am doing..." he paused, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest, "and I hope that is enough for now."

A wave of relief washed over you at his confession and all the worry you have been carrying seemed to disappear all at once. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, a warmth spreading through your chest.

Astarion returned the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, just holding each other tightly. It was a mix of emotions, knowing that Astarion was not yet able to return your feelings in full, but at the same time, you felt grateful and content knowing you had each other.

"Thank you for telling me," you whispered against his hair, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "I will wait for you, all you need."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you couldn't help but mirror it. Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle small kiss. It was soft and sweet, sending a warmth spreading through your body.

You both curled up in the bedroll, Astarion enveloping you with his arms in a protective embrace. And at that moment, you were certain - if the vampire still had a heart, it would be beating for you alone right now.

[radiance1]

Bruce has been chasing after Damian for years now, the once child now a young adult. He's missed 5 years of his son's life, due to a conversation where they both said the wrong words which resulted in Damian running away and somehow managing to evade all of them for so long.

He has to get to his son, before Talia sucks him right back up into the league.

They managed to track his location down to a nightclub, apparently, he was participating in a regularly held event that's been going on ever since 6 years ago.

So they went to the city the nightclub was in, disguised themselves in the crowd and was told to let each other know if they've found Damian.

He didn't expect to meet Talia and the same nightclub, but it made sense. If he was able to find Damian, then it makes sense for Talia to be able to do so as well, even after years hiding from the both of them.

He was keeping an eye on Talia, and she was keeping an eye on him as well, when the event started. The most popular-and only- DJ appeared and played music that had the civilians going wild, and then an entire stage sprang from the ground, multicolored lights coming to life.

This was an event in which multiple dancers had to compete against each other, for what was previously the chance to battle Wraith, the champion who also acted as the DJ, but that changed when Demon came around, overthrowing Wraith and yet, the two seemed to be evenly matched, taking the champion title from each other over the period of 5 years.

Now, who ever got far enough had the option to pick between the two, the Wraith or the Demon.

===

Danny, or otherwise known as Wraith, managed to find a place for himself after losing everything to the Nasty Burger explosion, with the help of Vlad to get him back on his feet, he managed to find a place for himself in a nightclub in another city.

It was in that same city, that he didn't expect to see his twin, Damian Al Ghul, by himself. He explained that he left his father, and was on the run from their mother, Damian didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Which-as much as he wasn't on a cordial relationship with Damian- reminded him of himself after the explosion of Nasty Burger. So, he took him in at his pretty decent size apartment, fully prepared to do what was needed for his older brother until he got back on his feet.

Then Damian followed him to the nightclub one day, and then the next demanded that Danny teach him so that he could earn his keep.

And Danny did.

He didn't expect for Damian to progress so fast that he was able to dethrone him, though. But he gave credit where credit was due, and if Damian was hellbent on doing this for a living, then he had to wear a mask to hide his identity, from you know, some types of fans and the League as well.

He asked Vlad for another neon mask- he had one himself- and Vlad gave him one surprisingly easy, and then he gave that mask to Damian.

And that, was how Wraith and Demon became regular champions that dethroned each other, until the manager told them to stop because no one else would be able to display their skills and instead made them both champions.

Either pick one or get two.

Their lives fell into an endless motion of DJing, dancing to earn money, and then going back home to a messy apartment, eating and then passing out.

It was a perfect routine that neither of them whished to disturb.

Then Danny saw Talia, and Damian saw Bruce, and suddenly that peace was threatened. Neither of them wanted to go back now, not after establishing this little thing for themselves that they carved out with their own two hands.

But it would be okay, as long as their masks stay on they would go unnoticed, after all.

They wouldn't even think that their children were dancers, would they?

[hazelfoureyes]

The SafeWord is RadioApple (part 3)

Alastor x Lucifer

part 2 male reader is coming, this was mostly written though so I wanted to get it out; reader referred to with they/them pronouns

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱

Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱

Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱✨NEW✨

Flint and steel 

You made it very clear the two demons had to get along when it came to whatever you three were doing. Which they did! …A great job at pretending to do! They could’ve probably kept it up, until Lucifer tried to humiliate Alastor at a party. Luci says Alastor doesn’t know how to satisfy you? Well Alastor is happy to show him otherwise. Too bad you’re not there….

「Warnings/Promises: DomAlastor x SubLucifer, Reader is not there when it happens, GN reader, choking, hands free ejaculation, anal, bondage?, praise kink, begging, Luci the cocksleeve, Luci the pretty little bird, Alastor tops in every sense, angelic blood kink?, biting, scratching, tentacles briefly penetrate, In every universe Angel appears when he’s not supposed to, Anal Smut sponsored by Ozzie’s Lube; Keep your lust ring happy©」

Minors DNI 👮 ✋

Alastor explained the best he could, that he had wanted to humiliate Lucifer and got a little carried away. In his defence, he had genuinely forgotten he had spoken to Charlie.

“Would I have stayed otherwise?” He asked.

That wasn’t the point.

“I don’t mind your unfounded rivalry. But if you drag this,” you gestured to all three of you, “into it again, we’re gonna have a different conversation.”

His hair bristled. Lucifer opened his mouth, ready to say something mocking, but you cut him off, “That goes for you too. Enough.”

Lucifer pouted, it seemed wholly unfair he be lumped together with Alastor for anything.

Well, not anything. He was finding situations he was quite alright with having Alastor join. 

“Peace. Give me peace. Can you do that? Just dial back this bullshit?”

No. “Of course. I’ll be the perfect gentleman as always.”

Absolutely not. “Not a problem! I literally did nothing wrong, so, haha, super easy.”

“Fair enough, Luci.”

Alastor’s edges sharpened. Nothing? He’d been canoodling you in every public space the hotel had. 

His body relaxed again. Ah, he understood. Alastor was, to his distress, bothered watching Lucifer make public displays of affection with you. It sent out a message to others that Alastor was being undermined in an established relationship since one knew the details, or that perhaps things had ended already and no one had been informed. That was how it could be interpreted. If direct attacks were not acceptable, then he’d just have to make a louder message. 

Alastor’s smile unnerved you. You knew well enough to read his subtle changes in facial expression.

But even with your skill in knowing Alastor better than most, you hadn’t noticed the change in him immediately. It was small at first. A hand on your hip when you were standing side by side. Quite nice.

Pressing into the side of you when sitting on the sofa. Lovely.

A kiss good morning in front of the others. You’d woken up in the same bed, already said good morning. Okay… strange. But appreciated.

Pulling you into his lap in the lobby. “Alastor. An innocent look if he ever could make one. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged, “What ever do you mean?” His smile widened.

How could you complain?

“You’re unusually physical.”

Hands rubbed at your hips, making you nearly jump from his lap, “You don’t like it?”

He knew very well you liked it. He could tell by how much hungrier you were becoming at night. Lucifer now a nearly daily interloper, helping Alastor unravel you under the canopy of his bed.

And it was true. Suddenly having both men showering you in physical affection was creating a new problem entirely.

Alastor’s mouth on your mouth, fingers on your body. Lucifer’s hips snapping against yours, claws gently scratching down your back. You fell asleep satiated and woke up hungry. 

What you didn’t see, brain fogged with the stimulation, was how both men glared at each over of your body.

How when you entered a room they were in, Alastor would use his shadows to reach you before Lucifer could. No, you didn’t notice how suddenly Lucifer was always flagging you down and pulling you away from Alastor to discuss hotel topics. 

You were quite impressed, a week of peaceful days and lustful nights, not a jab or barb to be seen. 

For you, that is. Alastor would spin his mic too quickly, knocking off Lucifer’s hat. At least once his shadow tendrils outright tripped the king of hell as he descended the stairs. Luckily no one of importance was around to witness the brief and only mildly destructive battle that followed. 

Not that Lucifer was an innocent party in any of it. He dropped the lobby chandelier on Alastor. Charlie is convinced there's something wrong with the bolts anchoring it to the ceiling now. 

When he saw Alastor was just behind him to enter a room, he opened his wings, knocking Alastor backward.

Their favorite form of competition though remained you. Who could illicit the deepest moans? Who made your eyes roll back the most? 

Something imperceptible to them, that you were well aware of, was how every night they inched closer and closer. While before you had an expanse of bed to explore between the two, by the end of the week you could barely roll over without brushing against one of them. 

You felt quite accomplished. No brawls (that you witnessed), no overly cruel comments (within your earshot), no power plays (that you could perceive). 

You said as much to them, everyone gathered in the common area around the bar in celebration of the 100th guest to move in. A modest party, most residents weary of being caught in the crosshairs of Alastor’s and Lucifer’s bickering. 

“A toast. To… common ground?” You smirked, happily the thing shared between the two.

“To shared interests.” Alastor offered.

Lucifer, rarely one to drink, eagerly rose his drink, “To my Kitten!”

Alastor’s glass shattered in his fist. “Oops. Husk?” 

It should have been an omen to you. But you laughed it off, a little broken glass wasn’t so bad considering the alternative; them choking each other out on the bedroom floor.

Perhaps the week's events had you too relaxed, quickly finding yourself drunker than you could recall in recent memory. You weren’t alone though. Lucifer’s tongue felt numb in his mouth, the effects of three apple martinis. And while Alastor was a little past tipsy, it was hard to tell with him. He was managing to keep his composure for the sake of one upping Lucifer. 

Angel approached both men, “I don’t know which one of yous is the top in this fucked triangle but y’all okay with me takin’ them to their room? They are wasted.”

Alastor opened his mouth, but Lucifer spoke quicker, “Not at all! Thank you Angie.” 

Alastor’s head whipped around to face Lucifer, “You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

“Ha! Said the man who broadcasts his across the Pride Ring. Not that anyone listens to that trash.” Lucifer inspected his fingernails, pretending to not care.

“Very funny coming from you. The tacky circus master who can’t even keep hell safe.” A tinge of static broke through. 

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed.

The sound of stations flipping through an AM radio frequency, Alastor’s annoyance clicking through his speech, “Now that I think about it, you can’t keep much of anything at all. Where is your estranged wife, anyway?” 

Horns materialized, breath fiery, “You wanna talk about relationships? You needed to tap me in to satisfy your woman.”

All anyone saw was Alastor grab the lapels of Lucifer’s jacket and yank them half way down his arms before both men descended into a pool of shadow that then disappeared entirely.

Lucifer stumbled back from Alastor, struggling to free his arms in the makeshift restraints Alastor had made. His jacket was folded down to his elbows, too tight to roll off and too far down to slip back up. “Just admit it. She needed me because you can’t meet her needs. Your relationship is incomplete without me!”

Alastor’s hands were on his neck before Lucifer could react. Squeezing, Lucifer gasped, eyes immediately losing focus. 

His tail wound onto Alastor’s thigh, spade tip tapping twice.

Like a dog trained to a dinner bell, Alastor instinctually loosened his grip, his face not hiding his dismay. Lucifer moaned at the lighter pressure.

No, it wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He had other plans for how to dominate over Lucifer.

Shadow tendrils burst from the floor and tossed Lucifer to the bed, arms still trapped on either side of his chest.

“It seems you need some correcting on how well I can satisfy. Quality over quantity, my liege.” He loosened his bowtie. “And a reminder on who pulls the strings. You were allowed into my bed by me.” His hands came to Lucifer’s hips pulling him up onto his lap, back still on the bed as his bottom settled onto Alastor’s crotch. “You were allowed to enjoy my darling’s company by me.” Alastor leaned forward to hover over Lucifer.

The king of hell was flush from a combination of alcohol and shock, eyes glossy and big. His chest heaved slightly with every breath, mouth hanging open. Alastor brought a hand back to his neck, “Everything you cherish with your kitten was granted to you by me.” His hand began to squeeze, Lucifer’s tail returning to twirl around his thigh.

And there it was. Perhaps the most delicious sight Lucifer could offer Alastor; absolute surrender. Eyes closed, Lucifer fought the urge to roll against Alastor with his hips. 

Yes, he hated the radio demon. But, well, hate was so close to passion. And passion could be enthralling. Lucifer had never been choked in a setting that wasn’t literal danger. He imagined for a moment how you felt, how you looked at him when Alastor fucked you while gripping your neck. It looked like it felt good. He wanted to feel it, too. 

But he couldn’t possibly ask. Alastor would laugh and say no. Lucifer wasn’t sure his pride could survive that. 

Alastor had been trying to find ways to soften his approach to Lucifer, knowing very well that if he could endear himself to the devil like he had Charlie he could increase his influence seven fold.

This wasn’t quite what he had in mind. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to toss him to the bed, it was a strange reaction to Lucifer’s insolence and moan. How many had heard the great corruptor moan like a bitch? How many had pinned him down beneath them? His cock was twitching to life in his lap as he stared down at Lucifer.

It was not what he had planned, but it could be just as effective. More so, even. 

Lucifer stared at the back of his eyelids. Alastor stared at Lucifer. Both men made a silent decision.

Alastor’s hand tightened a little more, Lucifer grinding his ass against the other. Replying in kind, the radio demon leaned further over Lucifer, folding the smaller man in half as he ground down into him. 

Lucifer didn’t attempt to stifle his moan, hands flexing where they were stuck, wishing desperately to hold onto Alastor’s arm that was gently increasing pressure still.

Every roll of his hips made Alastor’s breath hitch, the reality of who he was going to fuck into his mattress catching a fire in his veins. 

 Tap tap went his spade tipped tail on the inside of Alastor’s thigh. 

“Open your eyes, your majesty.” Alastor leaned down, nose touching nose.

Lucifer opened one eye first, then the other. His pupils were blown. Alastor pressed his erection down against Luci’s own, making the other man clench his teeth.

“Were you listening?” He asked Luci.

A grin, “No.”

Alastor growled, hands both going to Lucifer’s pants, pulling them and the ducky boxers down to his shoes before peeling everything off and letting them fall to the floor. 

Luci’s cock slapped up against his stomach, leaking already. He glared, hearing the radio demon laugh. 

“You were listening a little, I think.” His hand touched the sticky clear liquid, a strand following his finger as he pulled it back. 

“Are you going to take off my jacket?” Luci wiggled.

“Hmm, no.” 

He threw his head back, blonde hair losing its usual coiffed shape. 

Alastor slotted himself again between Luci’s thighs and began to unbutton the other man’s shirt. “There’s been something on my mind for awhile now.” He said, opening the shirt and revealing his pale chest. “Do you still taste like an angel?” His teeth sank into the shoulder muscle, Luci’s knees coming up and wrapping around his waist. 

Dizzying, the rush of pure angelic blood into his mouth made Alastor weak. Golden liquid, sweet as honey and aromatic like fresh sage, dripped down Luci’s skin. The pain was light, Luci’s body thrusting into the empty space between their bodies. 

“Touch me,” Luci meant to make it a command but it came out more of a plea. 

He briefly considered saying no again, but let his hand wrap around Lucifer’s cock. He didn’t move though, instead letting Luci thrust in and out of his fist.

Alastor was aware how vocal Lucifer was, but he was a little surprised the normally difficult man didn’t even try to hide how good Alastor was making him feel. 

Luci was sighing, body unable to stop itself from pushing up and into the warm hand he had been offered. The tongue lapping at his shoulder, Alastor hungry for him, was making him glow. He always enjoyed feeling wanted, being praised, and no praise was better than seeing Alastor’s demonic deer antlers grow above him.

Another bite, higher up now on his neck. Before, just working his shaft inside Alastor’s hand, he now was dragging the head of his dick inside of the grip. Sticky and wet, Alastor’s fingers providing ridges that bumped over his erection.

His own fingers were gripping the blankets, unable to do much else. 

With a snap and a small puff of smoke, Lucifer took to the task of preparing himself for Alastor with a small bottle of lubricant. Freshly lubed fingers shifting under his body and stretching down to reach his hole. His thrusting slowed, focus now on prodding gently into himself. The other demon hadn’t noticed, attention devoted to lapping up every errand drop of blood.

With his arms restrained he couldn’t reach well, only a knuckle of his middle finger making any headway.

“I can’t reach.” He whined. Alastor perked up, looking at his face and then down between his legs.

“Ah,” he stared, Lucifer’s finger pathetically entering himself an inch or so. “When did you get lube?” Luci didn’t reply. “Hand it here.”

Lucifer looked a little surprised, which insulted Alastor. “I’m not a monster. I fully intended to prepare you.”

When all Luci did was squint, Alastor shrugged, leaning back over and licking at the dripping blood. He felt Luci’s body jump, one of his summoned tentacles now pressing cautiously into him. 

Lucifer helped along the stretching, fingers rubbing the thick lube along the tendril as it pushed in an inch and pulled back a half, in two inches, back one. 

This was progressing much better now. Luci’s hands relaxed back at his sides, eyes closing as he tried to let his muscles go slack. Deep breath in, deeper breath out.

Alastor listened and felt the smaller of the two funnelling all of his energy into easing his hole open. 

“All this effort for little ole me?” He nipped Luci’s skin, no blood, just for fun.

Lucifer hissed, “This has literally nothing to do with you.”

“Funny, feels like it does.” He tightened his hand around Luci’s jumping cock.

“It’s the alcohol.” A blush he could feel radiating off his face spread from ear to ear. His mind kept flashing back to you. Would Alastor make him moan his name like you did? A prayer into the sheets? A twitch. Alastor’s body always seemed to know exactly where to go on yours. With a little practice, could he be brought to pleasured tears too? Luci moaned into Alastor’s shoulder. 

“More,” this time it was a command, and one Aastor was happy to oblige, living shadow pushing deeper into Luci’s body. A groan, long and loud. The burning stretch made his dick weep into Alastor’s hand and onto his stomach. 

Was it enough? Ozzie’s advice echoed in his head, “Better to prepare than tear!” a slogan his branded lubricant proudly declared. 

His hips began moving again, every thrust up into Alastor’s hand met with a down thrust onto the tendril. Alastor’s hot breath over his neck, clawed hand on his member, tendrils deep in his ass. He felt like he was being swallowed whole by the deer demon, and it felt heavenly. Did heaven know such sensations? How could he suggest Alastor has the 8th sin?

Alastor was patient, uncharacteristically some would say, sighing into Luci’s skin as his angelic blood moistened his chin and lips. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? He had been within biting distance for weeks now. If he had done this while they were mingling around and in you, it could have been seen as a part of the sex. He lowered, pulling Luci’s vest and shirt open wider so he could sink his teeth just above his nipple. Luci gasped, another moan following it.

The tail around his leg tightened, slithering up to his still clothed erection.

“Were you going to get naked or just fuck me through your pants?” Luci felt he was ready, hole soft and pliant. 

A hum into his chest, “Was that an option?” 

“Fuck you.”

“That is the topic of discussion, sire.”

Sire

Luci whined, eyes rolling side to side, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Alastor laughed, “You’re full of jokes tonight. Actually funny ones for once, too.” With the speed of a man with nowhere to be, Alastor leaned up and settled onto his legs. Belt undone and pulled off. Button, zipper, he sat up to drop his pants and underwear. Luci craned his neck up trying to watch, face still pink.

His hand came out and motioned to Luci to hand it to him. The small bottle of lube rolled from Luci’s fingers and down to Alastor’s knee.

Alastor poured a generous amount onto his manhood, hand pumping it along his shaft and reddening head. Luci’s heart was pounding, arms tugging at the jacket that kept him bound. He considered going full demon and ripping the jacket to pieces. 

But then his eyes darted down, feeling pressure and heat as Alastor was lining himself up.

Alastor met Luci’s eyes, an unspoken, ‘ready?’

“Go ahead, Allie.”

With no cup to shatter, Alastor’s hands pulled Luci’s legs up and open by the ankles and snapped his hips with one motion into the devil’s slick ass.

Luci yelped, eyes watering. “Asshole!” He cried.

“Much better.” Alastor pulled out nearly entirely before thrusting back in. His eyes clenched, even with the prep he found Lucifer to be nearly painfully tight and insufferably hot. He stopped moving for a second, trying to let Lucifer adjust.

Luci was pouting, fingers wiggling. “Release my arms.”

“No.”

He tried to kick Alastor, but the grip on his ankles was too firm. Alastor began to move again, dragging himself out to the head and then thrusting back in. A different sensation than he was used to, but not a new one. 

Lucifer was whining, every thrust back making the king of hell release a pitiful noise. Alastor looked down to the tail on his thigh before picking up his pace. 

He dropped Luci’s legs, hands taking his thighs.

“Slower.” Luci groaned, “Slow down.” Alastor stopped, staring at Lucifer. He brought his foot up and pressed it under Alastor’s chin, “I didn’t say stop.”

Insolence.

Alastor rolled his hips forward, so slow and so slight Lucifer’s own hips began to thrust back onto him. 

“Just do it right for fuck’s sake” Luci was getting annoyed. He wanted to be fucked, not fucked with. Could the two not be separated from each other? 

“You’ve forgotten your manners,” Alastor felt the pull of his body to move, to thrust, to feel that cycle of pleasure let him relax into a simpler mental space. But, well, where was the fun in just chasing physical pleasure? He had the king of hell whimpering in front of him. In that exact moment, he was at the top of the food chain in hell. He wasn’t ready to tumble off that precarious point just yet.

Luci bit his lip, blood dripping down his chin, “Please.”

Alastor bent down to lick the liquid gold from his king’s neck and followed the trail up to Lucifer’s mouth, “Please what?” Taking the opportunity, Lucifer captured Alastor’s mouth with his. At first, Alastor stilled. Sex was one thing, but kissing was an entirely different beast.

But then the blood found it’s way into his mouth, and he pushed his tongue against Luci’s. A fight for dominance like always, both men seeking to feel more than the other. Luci clenched, making himself whine into Alastor. Legs lifting up to wrap around Alastor’s waist, Luci used the other man as an anchor to pull himself on and off Alastor’s too gentle cock. If his arms were free, he’d grip those tall and expressive ears on Alastor’s head.

He found a pace that suited him, refusing to beg. 

How was Lucifer still managing to take control? Even bound and receiving, he was the one in charge. Alastor had to tear his body from the sweet taste of Luci’s kiss and reclaim the lead, cock more deeply entering Luci now.

Luci didn’t need deep, he just needed to feel that pressure and pull at his still tight ring of muscle, g-spot not far past his entrance. He knew exactly what he needed and felt allowing Alastor to do anything else was just a waste of time.

But you never seemed to fight or argue. You just relaxed under Alastor. If you were there, you’d stroke Luci’s hair and tell him how pretty he looked on his back.

He decided to stop trying to get the best of Alastor, and let Alastor show him exactly what he promised; how well he could satisfy.

Legs hooked, Luci let his body be rocked on the bed with Alastor’s direction. It’d been so long since he felt so full. 

Alastor felt Lucifer relax, soften. He heard his breath start to become heavy and loud. Looking between them, he watched the other’s dick grow harder still. 

“Good boy,” he offered. Luci whimpered, twitching around Alastor. Oh, of course. A praise kink. Alastor managed to stop the laugh bubbling in his chest, willing to meet Luci somewhat halfway. 

Could he praise the man he was hoping to choke to death not that long ago?

A test, dipping his toes into the water. “You look divine with your legs open, your majesty.” 

Luci moaned, erection hopping up.

“And you sound delicious,” Alastor let a hand run down Luci’s chest, small beads of yellow blood forming in the wake of his claws. A hiss, Lucifer’s stomach muscles tightened from the combination of sweet words and painful scratch.

 Alastor began to pick up his pace, resting his weight on his hands at either side of Luci’s head to angle himself. He adjusted his hips slightly until Lucifer jumped, eyes rolling back.

Mounting pleasure brought sweat to Luci’s brow, his sounds becoming harsher, raspier. “I’m close, I need your hand.”

Alastor tutted, “You don’t need anything.”

Tears streaked Luci’s cheek, “Are you fucking serious? Do you- ungh,” a moan, a swear, “Fuck. I’ll beg.”

The deer demon, tall and imposing over Lucifer, wanted nothing more than to make the King beg. “No begging yet. You don’t need anything else to orgasm than what I’m giving you now”

A slight panic, Luci crying at what he was sure was just another act of cruelty. But as Alastor moved in him, swollen head rutting against his prostate, he felt his orgasm building to an unstoppable place. Alastor was mindful, only entering enough to keep Luci going.

Claws gripped the blankets, Luci’s hips instinctively thrusting into the air, he fought the urge to hold his breath. “Say it,” fast and low.

Alastor cocked his head, not sure what Luci was asking for. A deep blush took over the entirety of his pale face, “Tell me I can— nngh,” 

“Ah,” Alastor giggled, “Cum, Lucifer.”

Alastor slowed his hips, a moan escaping as Luci’s balls and asshole tightened and trembled.

Luci came over his stomach and chest, waves of pleasure racking his body. 

It was a sight Alastor was admiring; sweaty and bloody and shaking. It looked like Lucifer was melting. His smile widened, eyes darkening as he picked up his thrusts.

“W-wait,” Lucifer’s legs tightened around Alastor.

Alastor dropped to his elbows, chasing his own high now. Eyes open and flitting around the image beneath him. Flush cheeks, sweaty skin, Lucifer was panting and moaning. No double tap yet.

“You sound like a bitch in heat, your majesty.”

Lucifer’s face screwed up, body overstimulated and sensitive.

“Now, you can beg.” Alastor sat back up, pulling Lucifer’s ass into his lap and thrusting up, dick buried to the hilt as he let Luci’s soft walls massage at his member.

Luci’s hands tensed, looking up his body to where they both connected, Alastor’s cock bulging his lower stomach, “For what?”

“For me.”

Alastor’s face was covered by shadow, eyes glowing red down at Lucifer. Tears still drying, eyes watery, Lucifer shook, “Please,” he felt embarrassed, somehow even more naked than nude. Alastor was still nearly fully dressed, a fact Luci’s mind was just registering. “Please cum, Alastor.”

His head fell forward, eyes wide and smile shaking. The King of Hell, the greatest of the sins, was begging for Alastor to dirty him. Alastor had done it, euphoria flooded his brain. His nails cut into the soft flesh of Luci’s ass as he pounded into the smaller demon.

Lucifer was gasping and grunting, softening cock rolling around in his own seed. He just wanted Alastor to cum and let his body rest, “Cum already, please cum inside me. Please, Plea—,” Luci was being used as a toy, just a cock sleeve for Alastor and he liked it.

He felt Alastor’s cock grow inside him before his hips slammed into him once, twice, three times then bury himself as deeply as he could. Luci felt the warmth spreading in spurts, Alastor still rocking slightly without withdrawing any. He couldn’t see the other demon’s face, red and black hair shrouding the expression Luci so desperately wanted to watch.

Lucifer’s body went limp, Alastor pulling out already half soft and sitting back on his legs. 

Pitiful. Soft and leaking, if Lucifer was a king Alastor felt like a God.

Finally, Alastor felt like he’d bested Lucifer, truly topping the most powerful demon in his own domain.

Meanwhile, Lucifer didn’t care. He felt closer to you, feeling Alastor’s cum drip out was a shared experience. He wanted to see you, to nuzzle into your neck. The only way to enhance his afterglow was to have it reflected off your smile. 

Alastor was undoing his shirt when the door creaked open. 

“So did you get the venom out of your system or…?” You slurred, “My bed is too empty. Can’t sleep.” 

Alastor’s head near snapped with how quickly he turned, Luci propping up on his elbows and leaning around Alastor to stare wide eyed.

Alastor considered launching himself directly into the sun. Lucifer wondered if he opened his wings fast enough if he could launch Alastor directly into the sun.

“They uh—- tried to cuddle but I didn’t wanna die so I brought them here… maybe— maybe a worse idea.” Angel was slowly closing the door. “You should really lock these doors.”

Unholy fire singed Angels face before shadows slammed the door shut with such forced the walls shook.

You curled up beside Lucifer, nuzzling into his neck, “Pretty baby Luci. You’re like a fancy little bird.” In your foggy state of consciousness, you were immensely proud of how the two had taken your request so seriously. 

Alastor’s hand came to cover his face, watching through his fingers as Lucifer looked lovingly at you, who was already half asleep.

“Under the covers, dear,” he gestured at you, “You, shower.”

Lucifer nodded and began wiggling down the bed so he could stand, you rolled until you hit pillows. You both in unison sighing, “Clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[dfortrafalgar]

Just A Little More Time

Law x Fem Reader

Law wants more, and winter break seems like the perfect opportunity. Indeed, he wants more... but not at the cost of your relationship.

A/N: Another bonus chapter for IMLY, the masterlist of which I will link below! I wrote this MONTHS ago and have a second part to follow that I still have to finish. You can definitely read this without reading the entirety of the main fic, but there are parts of this that directly reference IMLY, so there's a potential that these might not make as much sense ;3;

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit, hints of past sexual trauma, allusions to medical issues, in general fluff and law being a dork

[IMLY Masterlist]

PLAY IT SAFE!  USE PROTECTION!

Law stared blankly at the bowl of condoms situated outside the student activities office.  A tiny index card placed beneath the pink plastic bin said they were free to take, but the biology undergrad felt beyond awkward reaching into the bowl to grab a few.  Would he even need them?  Everything had been going so well with you that he was worried he was going to jynx himself with every tiny action and idea.  For the first time in his life, he found something he truly, desperately wanted to hold onto.  He had fallen in love… and fallen hard.

Biting back his growing anxiety, and ignoring the off-put stares from students walking by, Law reached into the bowl, grabbed three wrapped condoms, and frantically stuffed them into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants.  He briskly trudged out of the building and began his walk through the brisk winter air across the campus to the dining hall where you promised to meet him.  A light snow was floating through the air, coating the frozen ground with powdery white that crunched beneath his shoes, the salted pavement of the walkways helping with traction.  His heart hammered at the mere thought of seeing you again- you had been so busy with final exams that the two of you had barely been able to spend time together, the pressure mounting even higher as the two of you wrapped up your third year as undergrads.  And although you were only officially dating for about three months, Law was endlessly looking forward to the next time he got to see you.

And he was really counting his blessings.  For the entire two months of winter break, you were staying together in his single dorm on campus.  He didn’t have much of a home to return to, usually choosing to stay with Shachi and Penguin.  You chose not to return home, finding distress in your family life.  And besides, who wouldn’t want to spend the winter cuddling under fluffy blankets with an adorable, nerdy med student?

Law pushed through the doors of the dining hall and proceeded into the expanse of tables and chairs, the same dining hall where he first found his heart racing at the sight of you.  The circumstances recently had been far nicer though, and it turned out his chronic resting-bitch face made for a pretty good bodyguard-type vibe, exactly what you needed to feel safe walking around the open campus of North Blue University.  You were hunched over one of the small tables in the back of the cafeteria, your chin resting against your fist as you flipped through a comic magazine, one that Law had leant you a week prior.  The bio student felt his lips pull into a small smile at the sight.

Sensing his approach, you picked your head up, a broad grin immediately appearing on your face as you stood from your chair and engulfed him in a hug.  A baggy crew-neck sweater adorned with the university’s logo enveloped you, your lavender and vanilla perfume wafting around Law in serene waves.  While he wasn’t ever a fan of PDA, there were so few people in the dining hall that he felt comfortable placing his hands on your waist and dipping you back just enough to reach the soft skin of your neck, peppering a smattering of kisses over your skin before releasing you.  Your bright, airy chuckles made his stomach twist with nervous butterflies.  The condoms in his pants pocket felt like they were lava, oozing and searing through the fabric.

“How was your last final?” you asked excitedly, pulling away from him to gather your things from the table.  You closed the magazine and held it toward him, Law happily accepting it back and tucking it into his backpack.

“It went well, I think.  I’ve never been great with language classes, though,” he muttered back, awkwardly rubbing his neck where the short black hairs reached the top of his spinal cord.

You grinned, almost blinding the man, slinging your own bag over your shoulder and grabbing his hand in yours.  Your fingers intertwined seamlessly.  “I’m sure you did absolutely amazing, you ace every single class you take.”

“I appreciate it,” Law replied, his voice low as he smiled at you, your eyes creased as they adjusted to the outside light.  “How were your’s?”

As quickly as your face beamed upon seeing your boyfriend, it morphed into a disinterested scowl.  “Language was fine.  Math on the other hand…”

“I thought it was an open note exam,” he inquired.

“It was.  The bastard TA decided last minute to make it closed-book.  Didn’t tell anyone until today, when the exam started.”  You were grumbling, stuffing your free hand into the pocket of your coat.  “I swear, the dude sitting next to me looked ready to end it all.  I might have too, but I have too much to look forward to.”

Law’s chest panged.  He knew it was a simple joke, but ever since forming your relationship, seeing you in any state other than happy and content was a health hazard for him.  He squeezed your hand, keeping the skin of your palm warm.  “I’m sure you did fine.  You tried your best, at least.”

“True, that’s all you can ask for, really.”  You stifled a yawn.  “Trying my best.”

The black-haired man’s heart raced more and more while approaching the door to his dorm building with you in tow, the three metallic-wrapped items in his pocket growing more and more scorching the closer he got to his room.  He was convinced he might pass out.  He was wildly regretting the choice to grab them, worried that you would get the wrong idea if you saw them, thinking he’d be pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for, thinking that this entire two-month relationship was nothing more than–

“Law?”

Your delicate voice broke him from his anxious spiral.  When did the two of you get into the elevator?

You were staring up at him, large eyes creased in concern.  “You look really nervous.  Are you alright?”

He gulped.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?  I can just go back to my own room if you’re suddenly not feeling well, I still have some things I have to pack up,” you offered.

Law’s hand was growing clammy in yours.  He prayed you couldn’t tell.  “No, you can stay.  I’m fine.”

Your own hand flexed in his, and while you turned your gaze away from him, you didn’t seem convinced at his answer.

One thing Law still struggled with, and something that he would probably always struggle with, was facing his emotions head on.  The last thing he wanted to admit out loud was the fact that he had grabbed three condoms from the student activities bowl with the hopes that two months of living in a small room with you would mean a potential score.  He didn’t even know if they would fit.  Were condoms one-size-fits-all?  He had no idea.  He’d never had sex before.

The low beep of the elevator’s button panel signaling their destination shook him once again from his own mind.  You losened your grip on his hand, worried that it was you who was the cause of his sudden nervous demeanor.

“Hey, Law,” you whispered, the quiet hallway absorbing your voice.  You stopped him in front of the elevator as it closed, standing directly in front of him to capture his eyes with your own.  “Take a deep breath with me, alright?”

You slowly inhaled through your nose, feeling how your ribs expanded ever so slightly as your lungs swelled with the warm air of the dorm building.  Law followed your lead, sucking in oxygen through his nose.  You had some sort of supernatural ability to make him feel better instantly, better than any form of medication or clinical treatment.  His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled with you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” you replied, a small smile on your lips.  You stepped closer to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth.  “I just want you to know that you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

Law swallowed another thick glob of spit down his esophagus before mustering a weak nod.  “I know.”

Footsteps down the hallway sparked a fire under Law’s feet, quickly dragging you to his door as innocuous as he could, jamming the key into the bolt and clicking open the lock.  He pushed the wooden barrier open with his hand and ushered you inside as you giggled over his frantic movements, not wanting to be seen by any potential bystanders.  Choosing to ignore any playful comments about his shyness, you instead kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, making a beeline to Law’s single twin-sized bed and flopping onto the surprisingly plush comforter that covered his mattress.  As clinical and stoic as Law was, he had an absolutely adorable bedspread.  A simple blue comforter with an ocean wave pattern on it, plain white sheets, three pillows, and a large stuffed animal of a polar bear, which wore a peculiar orange shirt with a strange symbol embroidered on the front.  Everything was wrapped in Law’s scent, that familiar comfort of cedar and lemongrass.

Law chuckled, deep and husky, at the sight of you immediately wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets situated at the foot of his bed.  “Comfy?”

You hummed in response, flopping onto his pillows and curling up under the throw, hiding your face and taking a deep inhale of the laundry detergent he used.  You might have fantasized about sharing a bed with him for the rest of your life, but he didn’t need to know that.  At least, not yet.

You peeked out from under the blanket as Law milled around his room, neatly situating your bag on the ground next to his, an action which made your heart flutter.  After only three months of steady dating, the two of you had already fallen into a routine when visiting your individual rooms, as if you had been together for an eternity.  Life with Law came so natural, despite the rocky start the two of you had upon first meeting.  The Law from the study room almost five months ago was a completely different man compared to the one nearly folding his clothing and organizing his desk to prepare for your stay, humming a small song under his breath.  He had reserved the top drawer of his wooden wardrobe for your clothing, the few sets of pajamas and day clothes that he wanted to keep in his room for when you spent the night.  (He had a few sets in your room, too.)

Deep in the crevices of your mind, you wondered what married life with him could be like.  He’d probably be just as domestic, if not more so.  He’d probably make such a great father…

“Hey,” he spoke, shaking you from your own trance.  The two of you were one in the same.  “Tired?”

“Nah,” you responded, sitting up slightly, letting the blanket fall around your abdomen.  “Just watching you like a creep.”

The laugh that left his lungs shook your ribcage, a heat fluttering through your veins.  “Do you wanna get changed?” he asked, pulling open the drawer below the one he reserved for you.

You swung your legs off the side of his bed, eager to get into cozier clothing.  “Obviously.”

Neither of you had seen the other naked.  Instead, you changed with your backs to each other, heads down, only turning around when the other gave permission to do so.  It was… comforting.  You assumed your stance behind Law with your back to him, quickly shedding your shirt, followed by your bra.  The sound of rustling clothes behind you signaled that Law was doing the same.  You had just pulled an oversized t-shirt over your head when you heard a few small paps on the floor, and a panicked, ‘Shit,’ from Law.

Not thinking, you turned around to look at what happened.

Three condoms lie on the floor next to his pants, Law frantically fumbling to scoop them off the ground.  He had forgotten to take them out of his pocket and stash them in his desk.  The force of him removing his baggy cargo pants pushed them up and out of the open pocket.

You quickly turned your back to him once again, your face flushed with heat, eyes wide.  It was too late, though.  He knew you saw.

“I…” he muttered, rapidly finishing changing and shoving the three metallic-wrapped packs into his desk drawer.  He was flustered, stuttering over his words.  He stumbled between muttering frantic apologies and explaining himself when you finally turned around.  His face was flushed a deep crimson as his golden eyes scanned your face for any form of discomfort or distrust.

“Were those for… me?” you asked, voice soft, apprehensive.

“No– I mean…” Law’s jaw snapped shut.  “Th… They were.  But only if you, you know– wanted to.  Or… fuck.”  He desperately searched for any appropriate explanation, terrified at the mere prospect of potentially driving you away from him, after he had come so far.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest at the thought.  On shaky legs, you approached the panicked man, gently grabbing his shoulders and grounding him.  “Hey, Law… breathe.”

He nervously licked his chapped lips, drawing a shaky inhale through his nose.  His eyes were clenched shut, too ashamed to look at you.  Your chest ached.

“Can we sit down?” you asked carefully, your hands trailing down his arms to grab his hands.  His fingers twitched at the contact, but he reciprocated your grasp.

You maneuvered yourself across the room, crawling back onto his bed and wrapping yourself in his blanket.  Law stayed seated on the very edge of the mattress, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground from his lifted bed frame.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head.  His fluffy black hair shielded his eyes from your view.

“Please, don’t be,” you pleaded, scooting up behind him and resting your forehead against his vertebrae.  “It’s really alright.  I was just… surprised.  But flattered.”

Law slowly loosened his muscles.  He hadn’t expected ‘flattered’ to be the term to use.  “Really…?”

“I mean… yeah,” you replied.  “I’m surprised that you’d want that from me.”

The man’s stomach flipped.  He carefully turned around to face you, picking his legs up to sit more comfortably on his mattress.  “Why would you be surprised about that?”

The way you pursed your lips at his question made a million more concerns run through his mind.  You quickly shook your head back and forth.  “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Law kept his gaze on you solid as your eyes darted between his wall, his hands, his blanket.  You nervously fiddled with your cuticles.  “The only time I’ve ever had sex with anyone, I bled for, like… three days.  And it hurt.  A lot.”

The man’s jaw clenched.

“I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt him, so I just kinda let it happen.  But ever since then I’ve been…” you swallowed.  “Scared.  Like… I’m worried I’m broken.”

He wanted to slaughter the man who hadn’t noticed your pain, no matter how long ago the incident was.  The look on your face told him that it still cut you deep despite your calm tone.  Law leaned toward you, concern heavy on his face.  “Did you speak to a doctor about that?”

You nodded.  “Only once.  My old gynecologist as a teenager suggested it could be anything.  He was like, ‘It could be absolutely nothing, or you might have endometriosis.  But you’re so young, so it’s probably nothing.’  So to deal with it I just never got close to a guy since then.”

The black-haired man rolled his eyes.  “That doctor sucked.”

This made a small laugh burst from your lungs.  “He did suck.”  After a few brief moments, you finally made steady eye contact with your boyfriend across from you.  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“What?  No,” he blurted, waving his hands in the air.  “You didn’t disappoint me, you could never disappoint me.  If anything… I’m happy you trust me enough to share that.  I’ve…”  His voice trailed off.

You anxiously waited for his next words.

“I’ve never had sex before.  With anyone.  So all of this is still pretty foreign to me, too.”

A strange sense of relief filled your chest.  “Really?”

Law felt a tiny smirk twitch onto his lips.  “Does that surprise you?”

“A little, yeah.”  You were visibly loosening up, once again growing comfortable where you sat across from him on his bed.  “I mean, you’re crazy hot.”

Even more blood rushed to his cheeks making him feel warm from the crown of his head to the heels of his feet.  “If it helps… you are, too.  That’s… uhm… why I got those.”  He gestured with his head to his desk drawer.

You hid your face in his blanket, embarrassment pulsing through your blood with each rapid beat of your flustered heart.  “This makes me feel even more bad for being so scared.”

Law ghosted his hand over your shoulder, pulling you out of your slouch.  You reminded him of an armadillo in a way, curling up into a little ball to protect yourself from danger.  His mind flashed back to the movie night your friends had some months prior, when he found you behind the building with your head on your knees.  “Never feel bad, I’m serious.”  His voice was firm yet soft, revealing his intentions to make you feel as safe and protected as he could.  “I don’t care if we never have sex at all, or if it takes a long time.  I really don’t care.  As long as you’re… okay.  Healthy.”

You apprehensively peeked out from the blanket once more.  “Really…?”

“Really.”

The man bit down his surprise as light tears welled in the corners of your eyes.  You shuffled across the bed, closing the gap in between your bodies and wrapping him into a strong hug, the blanket shrouding his body as the two of you fell backwards onto his pillows.  You buried your head into his neck as his arms came to rest against the small of your back, holding you securely against him.  He could feel you grinning into him, tiny trickles of hot tears falling down the skin of your cheeks.

“I genuinely think you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had such bad experiences,” he uttered back, staring at the ceiling as he held you against him.

“Don’t get rid of the condoms,” you sighed.  “I have a feeling we’ll need them eventually.”

Law grinned, squeezing your form in his secure arms.  “On your own time.”

“On your’s, too.”

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (full-blown unprotected p in v - wrap it, folks!)

Part 02

Series Masterlist

Lock Me Down Tonight

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

For most people, Fridays held a special charm and anticipation. They symbolized the end of the toil of work, a well-earned break, and a chance to spend quality time with loved ones.

For you… it signified when you’d finally get to fuck Hugh. The mere thought of it was enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Fridays meant that you’d finally get to be with him again, to feel the heat of his body against yours and the weight of his desire as he took you to heights of pleasure you’d never known before.

The excitement was overwhelming, to the point where you found it difficult to focus on anything else. Time seemed to drag slowly, each minute an eternity as you ached for the moment when you could finally be reunited with Hugh.

You tried to distract yourself by going about your daily routine, but it was a struggle. Your thoughts kept Returning to the memory of his touch, his smile, the way he looked at you with barely contained desire.

You stare at the two outfits laid out on the bed, each one alluring in its own way. The first is a sexy little number, the kind of outfit that would make Hugh's eyes widen in appreciation. The second is a more elegant and refined option, a choice that would have him imagining you on his arm instead of in his bed.

You hum quietly to yourself, trying to decide which outfit would best convey the perfect balance between allure and restraint. You didn't want to be too obvious, but....

You were also eager to show him just how much you desired him. It was a delicate line to walk, and you wanted to make sure you got it just right. The thought has you biting your lip, the sense of anticipation growing with each passing moment. You reach for the phone and dial Megan’s number, waiting for her to answer.

You see Megan’s face appear on the screen, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She takes in your appearance and the outfits laid out on the bed behind you, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. Out of everyone in your life, Megan was the only one to know of your situation with Hugh. She was your walking phone and calendar. She knew things before you did! “Is the black too much?” You ask nibbling on your manicured nails.

Megan looks at the black outfit, her eyes trailing over the delicate lace and the plunging neckline. “Not at all,” she replies, her tone knowing. “Hugh won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You feel confident in the choice. “Black it is then.” Megan smiles, pleased that you’ve made a decision. "You’re going to knock him dead, I promise." You check yourself in the mirror, studying every angle and curve. The black outfit fits like a second skin, hugging your body in all the right places.

You glance down at your feet, admiring the tall black heels you've chosen. They elongate your legs, adding a touch of elegance to your outfit. You slide on the sheer black tights, the silky material molding to your skin seamlessly.

Looking in the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. The black outfit accentuates your curves and makes you feel sexy and confident.

As the last hour crawls by, you find yourself pacing around your room, unable to sit still. Your mind is filled with anticipation, and your heart beats a little faster with every minute that passes.

You glance at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. It feels like an eternity before it’s finally time to leave. Your heart skips a beat as you see Hugh's name flash on your phone screen. You quickly answer the call, your voice a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Hey, I was just about to head over.”

Hugh’s voice comes through the line, deep and velvety. You can hear a hint of excitement in his tone, mirroring your own. "I can't wait to see you,” he says, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I've been thinking about you all day."

“You’re not alone there.” You muse into the phone. “You haven’t gotten into your car yet have you?” Hugh asks.

You smile at Hugh's question, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "No, not yet. Why?" you reply, curious about what he has in mind.

You pause, your eyes going wide as you gaze at the black limousine waiting in the parking garage. A thrill of excitement courses through you, your heart fluttering at the sight. You step closer to the car, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation filling you as you wonder what Hugh has planned for tonight.

“Because I figured I would have you dropped off.”

You feel a smile spread across your face as his words sink in. "Hugh, you didn’t have to do this," you say, both touched and excited by his extravagant gesture. You approach the limousine, your heels clicking against the pavement. The driver, standing beside the rear passenger door, gives you a nod as he opens the door for you.

“Well I told you I would give you everything you deserve, didn’t I?” A shiver runs down your spine as his words reach your ears. They're equal parts sweet and seductive, a potent combination that always makes your head spin.

"You did say that," you murmur, a hint of desire lacing your voice. You slide into the luxurious car, the leather seats offering comfort and indulgence. The door closes quietly behind you, encasing you in a bubble of privacy and luxury.

As the limousine glides through the streets, you take in the plush interior, the dim lighting creating an intimate ambiance. The city lights pass by outside the tinted windows, adding to the sense of mystery and excitement. You bring the phone back to your ear, the sound of Hugh's voice a balm to your senses. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

You watch the city pass by through the tinted windows, your mind filled with images of Hugh: his magnetic gaze, his charming smile, his muscular frame. You're about to see him again, to feel his touch and taste his kiss. The thought alone is enough to make your heart pound faster and your breathing shallow.

The limousine pulls into the parking garage of Hugh's luxurious complex, the silence punctuated by the smooth hum of the engine. The garage is quiet and dimly lit, and you feel a wave of excitement wash over you as you prepare to finally be reunited with Hugh. The limousine glides effortlessly into a reserved spot, coming to a stop as the driver gets out to open your door.

A strong, protective hand extended from outside, reaching out to you. Without a moment’s hesitation, you take it, and a sense of security washes over you as Hugh gently guides you out. His fingers splay over your waist, providing a strong yet tender anchor point as he helps you take that first step.

The feel of Hugh's hand on your waist is electric, his touch sending sparks of desire through your body. You draw in a sharp breath, your heart rate quickening as you take a moment to steady yourself.

The contact is subtle yet possessive, his fingers exerting gentle yet firm pressure on your hip. The subtle gesture betrays just how badly he wants you, his restraint barely hiding the desire that simmers just beneath the surface.

His lips meet yours, and a wave of tenderness washes over you. His kiss is gentle yet intense, a subtle declaration of his desire and his feelings for you. It's a moment that feels both comforting and exhilarating, the sweetness of the gesture only fueling the fire within you.

As the kiss lingers, his fingers dig into your hips, his touch growing more possessive. It's a silent message – a reminder that no matter how gentle his touch is, the desire that burns within him is barely contained.

Hugh guides you through the complex, his hand still resting possessively on your hip. There's a moment of silence as you reach the private elevator that leads to Hugh's penthouse. With a simple touch of a button, the elevator doors slide open, and Hugh gestures for you to precede him inside.

As you step into the elevator, the cool air conditioning sends a subtle shiver through you. The space is small, intimate, just the two of you.

Hugh steps in behind you, his presence is overwhelming and all-consuming. The doors slide shut, enclosing you both in the small space. The silence is intense, the air between you charged with tension and expectation.

Hugh's gaze rakes over you, his eyes darkened with desire. The black dress he'd seen earlier now looks even more tantalizing on you, the fabric hugging your curves in all the right places.

His eyes linger on the way the dress clings to your body, the way it exposes just a hint of cleavage, the way it accentuates your shape. It's clear that you're having a profound effect on him, stirring up deep and primal desires that he's barely able to contain.

"You look absolutely stunning," Hugh murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "That dress...it's driving me crazy." His eyes rake over your body again, taking in every detail. He reaches out, the palms of his hands skimming up your sides, his touch burning through the fabric.

You bite your lip as you lean into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, I hope you’re ready for me to take it off.”

A low growl rumbles in Hugh's chest as you press your body against him. Your words only stoke the fire that's already burning within him. He slides his hands down to the curves of your hips, firmly gripping you against him.

As you enter the penthouse, you're immediately struck by the grandiosity of the space. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer panoramic views of the city skyline, the night sky lit up with a dazzling array of lights.

The penthouse is tastefully furnished, with a modern, masculine aesthetic that reflects Hugh's personality. The living room features comfortable couches, a sleek wall-mounted television, and a piano tucked into a corner.

The layout is open and inviting, the space designed for both style and functionality. As you walk further inside, the faint scent of his cologne fills your nose, lingering subtly in the air.

Hugh heads over to the kitchen, where a dinner table is already set up for two. Dishes and silverware are arranged neatly, the flickering glow of lit candles casting a soft, intimate light over the table.

As you arrive at the dining table, Hugh pulls out a chair for you, his gallant demeanor making your heart flutter. His hand holds the back of the chair as you seat yourself, his polite gesture a mixture of chivalry and possessiveness.

Hugh takes his own seat at the table, his eyes never leaving you. The candlelight flickers in his eyes, making the desire there even more apparent.

This was something you’d never experienced before. Sure you’d gone on plenty of dates. The same old dinner, movie, make-out routine is old and worn out.

Hugh was showing you the finer things of life. The more intimate experiences you could have with him. And you were loving every moment of it.

Hugh pours you a glass of wine, the deep red liquid swirling elegantly in the crystal glass. He then pours one for himself and sets the bottle down on the table.

As you take a sip of the wine, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Hugh's attention is entirely focused on you, his eyes drinking in every movement, every expression. The intimate setting, the delicious food, and the flickering candlelight all combine to create a sensual atmosphere that's both romantic and erotic.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you smirk at him. “Never been treated like this before. You’ve got me feeling special, Hugh.” Hugh chuckles a low, sexy sound that makes you shiver. He grins, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

"You're damn right you're special," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. "You deserve to be treated like royalty, and I'm going to make sure you feel like it every goddamn day."

Hugh’s masculine hand covers yours, his touch strong and warm, the contact between you sparks a wave of electricity. His voice quiets, taking on a more serious, sincere tone as he gazes into your eyes.

"Tonight, you’re the center of my world," Hugh reiterates, his words a soft yet intense declaration of his feelings. "I want this night to be an unforgettable one. I want to show you just how much you mean to me."

Hugh ladles out dinner, the mouthwatering aroma of the meal drifting up towards you. The candlelight casts a warm, flickering glow over the table, creating an intimate and romantic atmosphere.

He serves you first, placing a plate loaded with a variety of mouthwatering dishes in front of you. The food looks and smells incredible, and you can tell it's been prepared with meticulous care.

“You made this?” You ask in amazement. Hugh nods, a proud smile spreading across his face. "Every last bit," he says, clearly pleased with himself. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

You take a bite, savoring the flavors that explode on your tongue. It's delicious, the combination of spices and herbs perfectly balanced. Hugh watches you intently, his eyes fixed on your face, eager for your reaction.

“I might just let you lock me down tonight, Hugh.” You tease him. He was all around the perfect man. Hugh raises an eyebrow, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, is that a promise?" he replies, his voice laced with a hint of challenge. "You think I can convince you to stay the night?"

As the meal progresses, the conversation between you and Hugh continues, flowing effortlessly and comfortably. The topics range from lighthearted and playful to more serious and intimate, touching on your childhoods, dreams, and aspirations. The candlelight flickers, the soft glow creating a warm, intimate atmosphere.

Hugh listens intently, his eyes locked on you, hanging onto every word. Occasionally, he offers a gentle touch – a hand on yours, a brush of his fingertips against your skin – small gestures that speak volumes about his admiration for you.

He takes a sip of his wine, then leans in slightly, his gaze fixed on you. "So tell me about your album," he prompts. "How long have you been working on it? What's the inspiration behind it?"

You sip your wine thinking over the album. “Almost two years.” Hugh's eyebrows raise in surprise, his eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "Two years?" he repeats, a hint of admiration in his voice. "That's a long time. I can only imagine how much effort and passion you've poured into it."

You have to roll your eyes at the thought. “I dated this Shawn guy. A complete dumbass. Some of the songs are about him. How he fucked me over.” As you mention your ex, a flicker of anger flashes across Hugh's face. His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken with possessive jealousy.

But he quickly tamps down the emotion, replacing it with a more sympathetic expression. "Sounds like he was a real piece of work," he mutters, his voice tight with resentment at the thought of someone treating you poorly.

You trail your gaze to meet Hugh’s. “Then the other songs are about you.” Hugh's expression suddenly shifts as he processes your words. His eyes soften, and the possessive edge to his demeanor recedes, replaced by something softer, warmer.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he absorbs the meaning behind your words. "About me?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and curiosity. "You wrote songs about me?" You smirk, “I might’ve.”

Hugh's grin widens at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of pride. "Now I'm dying to know what you wrote about me. Are they good songs, or am I gonna come off looking like a fool?" You toy with his fingers, as you rake your gaze up his face. “Just don’t embarrass me, motherfucker.”

Hugh's fingers intertwine with yours, his larger hand completely dwarfing yours. He laughs at your playful threat, the sound deep and rich. "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," he replies, his voice low and sultry. "I'm a man of many talents, but I'm not in the habit of embarrassing gorgeous women. You're safe with me."

He brings your entwined hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is intimate and tender, his touch sending a shiver through you. He holds your gaze as he plants another soft kiss on your knuckles, his eyes smoldering with desire.

"Now, about those songs..." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You gonna give me a preview, or do I have to wait until I can buy your album?" You smirk widely as you stand. You sway over to his seat. “I guess I can give you just a little sneak peek.”

Hugh's eyes follow your every movement. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. He's clearly enjoying the view, a predatory look in his eyes.

"A sneak peak, huh?" he says, his voice rough. "I like the sound of that." He reaches out, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You settle onto Hugh's lap, your body pressing snugly against his. His hands instinctively tighten around your hips, holding you in place as he looks up at you. The height difference emphasizes his masculinity, his broad shoulders and muscular frame dwarfing you as you straddle him.

With the meal now finished, you lean back against Hugh, a soft hum of satisfaction slipping past your lips. "Dinner's done," you murmur, a hint of contentedness in your voice.

Hugh’s hands remain fixed on your hips, his fingers gently kneading the supple flesh. He gazes up at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he silently reinforces his promise for the night. Without a word, Hugh easily lifts you up in his arms, the strength in his muscles making it look effortless. He carries you to the bedroom, his steps steady and purposeful.

Gently, he laid you down on the soft bed, his strong hands caressing your body, exploring every curve with reverence. He traced the outline of your face, his fingers brushing your lips, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. You arched your back, inviting him to continue his exploration.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "So young and full of life. I want to worship every inch of you." His lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that took your breath away. His tongue danced with yours, a sensual battle for dominance that left you yearning for more. Hugh's hands roamed freely, moving the straps of your dress down, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under his touch.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Hugh's kisses trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fiery desire, before he gently bit your sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. "I need to taste you again, baby," he whispered against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

With skilled fingers, he dragged your tights down your legs, kissing every inch of bare skin as it revealed itself. His hands deftly removed your clothing, exposing your naked body to his hungry gaze.

"You're exquisite," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire. Hugh's lips trailed down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites, until he reached the edge of your panties. He hooked his fingers into the lace and slowly slid them down your legs, his breath hot on your sensitive skin.

You felt exposed and vulnerable, yet incredibly aroused. Hugh's tongue traced the outline of your pussy. You gasped, your body arching off the bed, as he finally took the first stride of his tongue.

His tongue delved deep into your wetness, exploring every fold and crevice. He lapped at your juices, his mouth hot and insistent, driving you wild with pleasure. You clutched the sheets, your body trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Hugh," you cried out, your voice hoarse with need. "I'm going to cum!" He increased his pace, his tongue flicking relentlessly against your clit, sending you spiraling into a mind-shattering orgasm. Your body shook uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Hugh continued to feast on your pussy, lapping up your essence, prolonging your ecstasy. As your orgasm subsided, Hugh slowly made his way up your body, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites. He looked into your eyes, his own desire burning fiercely.

"I want to be inside you," he growled, his voice thick with want. "I want to feel your tight pussy around my cock." You reached down, grasping his hard length through his pants, and stroked him slowly, feeling his thickness and warmth. With trembling fingers, you unbuckled his belt, desperate to free his straining erection.

Hugh's cock sprang free, thick and veined, standing proudly before you. You stroked him gently, marveling at his size and the way his breath caught as you touched him. "Please, Hugh," you begged, your voice husky.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his cock teasing your wet entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you, stretching you deliciously. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

Hugh began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending pleasure coursing through your body. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. "You feel so good," he groaned between kisses. "So tight and wet. I can't get enough of you."

He picked up the pace, his cock slamming into you with increasing urgency. The bed creaked with each powerful thrust, and your moans filled the room, a symphony of pure pleasure. Hugh's hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his every stroke, driving you both towards the brink of ecstasy.

"I'm close," you whispered, your nails digging into his back. He growled in response, his body tensing as he reached his peak. With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep within you, filling you with his hot cum. You clenched around him, milking his throbbing cock, as your own orgasm exploded, rippling through your body.

In that moment, the age difference faded away, leaving only the raw, primal connection between two lovers lost in the throes of passion. As their breathing slowed, Hugh collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"That was incredible," he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. Hugh pulls you close, his strong arms wrapping around you possessively. “Convinced to stay the night yet?” You giggle and settle into his grasp. “You’ve got me, Hugh.” Your words meant more than just the confirmation of your bed sharing for the night. Hugh had you completely. If he wanted.

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a blissful haze of erotic fulfillment and tender affection.

[lavandulawrites]

Gimmie yandere sanemi with a plump reader! He loves her so much and he knows he can't do better than her and she's convinced he can do better. She's ok with his yandere tendacies cause it means he wants her.

Bonus if you give her blue eyes and freckles please~~~

Yandere Sanemi with an insecure darling

Yandere Sanemi x reader

My first time writing a plus size reader so I hope I did it some justice. I chose not to include blue eyes and freckles.

Masterlist

Warnings: plus size reader, female reader, imprisonment, insecure reader, soft yandere

Word count: 606

His head leaned against the slide doors that lead to the terrace. The crisp autumn wind ruffled his hair as his lilac eyes raked over your form and a smug smile tugged on his lips. You were sitting comfortably on a chair while you read a book. When he had asked you what it was about you had told him it was a fairytale. You had always been fond of fairytales. You admitted to him quite early on in your relationship that it was an escape. An escape that you very much needed.

After that he had bought you every fairytale book he came across, though he told you to read it for your enjoyment, not as an escape. You had agreed after the Hashira kissed you gently on your cheek. Such uncharacteristic action always threw you of guard which he very much enjoyed.

As you flipped through the pages silently he was lost in thought. He was thankful you excepted his advances, because who knows what he would do if you didn’t. You hadn’t objected when he had whisked you away, which he found weird at first, but he soon shrugged off. He didn’t complain. Your corporation was something he appreciated. It made it easier to protect you.

However, Sanemi had started to sense that something was off. At first he thought you were secretly plotting your escape, but after a while he realised that that wasn’t the case. Then he thought that maybe you had feelings for someone else. Though that would’ve been unlikely since you spent your days inside his estate or in the garden surrounded by high fences.

He rose from the terrace and sat beside you on the chair. “Is anything the matter, love?” he asked with a gentle voice. The pet name felt foreign on his tongue, he never seemed to get used to it no matter how many times it fell from his lips.

Your pretty eyes lifted from the pages and found his. “No? Why are you asking?” you asked with a smile.

Sanemi might have not been the best with feelings nor people in general, but even he could tell that you were lying. “Don’t lie to me” his voice was stern.

Your eyes cast downward to your hands that were clutching the fairytale book. You remained silent for a few seconds before you opened your mouth. “I just think that you can do so much better than me. You shouldn’t force yourself” your voice was meek, but fully audible.

The white haired man blinked for a few seconds in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean it. I don’t want to hold you back” you looked away as you furiously blinked.

Sanemi’s face was twisted in disbelief. He crutched in front of you in the cold hardwood floors as he took your hand. “Don’t ever say that, ever again. You are perfect and I love you so much that it hurts” his voice was loud and laced with anger directed at those who made you think like that. He would find a way to get their names out of your pretty mouth and slash their throats. They would pay for their actions.

“You are perfect, both your appearance and your personality. If I catch you say something like that again, I will make you believe my words whether” you rose and leaned over you. His breath fanned over your face. His intense eyes fixed in yours. His lips locked with yours and his eyes closed. His calloused hands held your plush hands in a tight grip, as if he was afraid that you would disappear if he let go.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi!! Hope everything is going well!

Could I Please ask for some bottom buggy (mayhaps with some watersports since I saw you had a interest) or some ftm crocodile being fucked into submission!

Have a nice day.

Ftm Sir Crocodile x male reader

Ficlet

I love Sir Crocodile so much 🗣️ 🗣️

Reader is part of Buggy’s crew, cuz I thought that would be hilarious. Reader doesn’t have a devil fruit, but is still super kickass. Hes kind of the information gatherer, smuggler, etc, for the Buggy crew. Reader is also normal human height.

Mixed terminology for Crocs bits. Also, breeding/pregnancy? kink warning ig. but its just mentioned for the fantasy.

The Cross Guild appeared great for any outsider or lesser in the know members, which was most of them. They all saw your captain as someone great and almost godly, thinking he was so much more than he was, but you had been with him for many years, even before the Buggy pirates had even been created. Shortly after the execution of Rogers, Buggy had stumbled into your path and had accidentally saved your life, and from then on you had been by his side.

Most people thought of you as something akin to an accountant or treasurer, wearing an outfit that looked very much like that of a ringmaster, long red tailcoat and top hat and all. You were always one of the first to run away, giving you a reputation of a coward who couldn’t fight.

The only one who truly knew how much of a threat you could be, would be your captain and his inner circle, which you were also part of. You might not have been the strongest physically compared to someone like Mihawk, but no one could gather information like you could, smuggle like you could, or have someone “disappear” like you could. Your network was so extensive that even the one they called Joker, who you knew was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo, was jealous.

That was why you knew everything about Sir Crocodile and Mihawk before the day was over when the Cross Guild was formed. You cowered off to the side, keeping up your weak act as you flinched at their raised voices or the light reflecting off Crocodiles golden claw.

They believed you a weak fool who’s only worth was your quick mind and ability to calculate numbers quicker than most computers, which resulted in them mostly dismissing you. It was a role you basked in and felt comfortable, using it to keep your true identity under wraps. That was until they pushed your captain too far, as Crocodile especially seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing and hurting your captain.

You were protective, most pirates were, if they felt any sense of loyalty to their captain. It was because of that, that you dug up a trusted contact, a celestial dragon with greater access to seastone than anyone else you knew. Using measurements from the moment’s clothes had to be made, a pair of cuffs in just the perfect size soon arrived to you with the post.

It was easy to press Crocodiles buttons, to get him worked up by acting stupid and pathetic, just the way you knew made his blood boil. It was even easier to enrage him so far that he chased after you, so blinded by his anger that he didn’t even notice how you kept avoiding his sand, or how you were leading him further and further away from the rest of the guild.

When he finally caught up, Crocodile caged you against the wall, hook digging into the drywall as he almost snarled down at you, cigar crunched between his teeth as his purple eyes blazed. But mild confusion crossed his face as your fearful expression dropped, his body straightening as your eyes met his head on. Before Crocodile could order an explanation, a feeling of weakness crashed through his body, making his knees buckle enough that you had to catch him, supporting his towering weight and bulk.

His vision swam as you started dragging him along, his feet dragging along the floor because of his height compared to your own. Crocodile felt dizzy and mildly nauseous, his eyes finally catching the heavy bands around his wrist, the one he still had left. “ssseastone?” he slurred out, voice lighter than the growl you were used too, cigar long forgotten somewhere along the journey.

In the beginning, you had planned on torturing him, the blades strapped to your person burning at the thought, but as you threw him down almost carelessly on a barely clad bed, a different through passed through your mind.

A slight thrill ran down your spine as his purple eyes burnt into you, his usual anger still present, but mixed with something else, something deeper and hungrier. Soft pants left Crocodiles lips, sounding faintly struggled as the seastone drained the power from his body, leaving him limp and pliant.

You could see the heat rising to Crocodiles cheekbones as you started stripping off your usual getup, tailcoat slid off your shoulders and neatly folded, top hat placed down with care. “What the hell are you doing…” Crocodile rasped from the bed, his pupils blown as an unfamiliar need unfolded inside him, the familiar thrum of pleasure running through body.

Maybe it was his weakened state, but he swore his cunt was pulsing with need, especially as you unbuttoned the stark white shirt you always wore, revealing a tightly muscled and heavily scarred body underneath, leather straps adorned with vials and weapons stretched across your torso.

Crocodile tried to shuffle his legs, maybe to squeeze his thighs together, or to spread them further apart, he wasn’t sure, but all he could do was a minimal twitch and jolt. “I planned on cutting you up, making you beg for mercy. But from the looks of it… you wouldn’t mind some other kind of discipline” you murmur, almost stalking towards him where Crocodile was splayed out on top of the white sheets.

You could see all his muscles tense as you let your hands climb up his legs, up his thighs and stomach, traveling all the way up his arms towards his hook. A choked off noise leaves Crocodile as you remove his hook with ease, like you had done it a thousand times before, placing it off to the side with care.

“Behave yourself” you tell him, squeezing the sides of his jaw to make his lips part. Crocodile tried to growl or snap a threat, to snap his teeth at you or somehow fight back, but his body was mostly unresponsive, his tongue feeling thick and useless in his mouth.

A shiver of anticipation ran through Crocodile as you moved again, settling between his thick spread thighs. Your eyes met as you reach for his belt, your brow lifting as if asking if he wanted you to stop. You may be a pirate, but you had class and manners, at least when it came to stuff like this.

But when all Crocodile responded with was a sour expression and glare, you make easy work of his belt and slacks, tugging them down his hips and legs, throwing them off to the side with little care. Your disregard for his clothes made Crocodile grumble, but the noise was quickly silenced as you pressed your entire hand against his slick underwear, fingers teasing his hard t-cock and soaked folds.

“Tsk tsk, look at you, bet you just need someone to put you in your place, is that it?” you mumble in an almost mocking tone, looking up at him with an almost feral hunger in your eyes. Crocodile chokes on the words that want to form in his throat, some kind of rebuttal perhaps, that he would never want someone as low as you to do anything to him, but as you pinch his cock between your fingers, it morphs into a shaky moan.

Crocodile’s boxers as easily pulled off, thrown to the floor with a damp plap, making his face redden further as you only find amusement in the obvious sign of his arousal. Kicking off your pants and boxers, you crawl up the bed and sit between his thick thighs, pushing them further apart to expose where he only grows slicker, hole clenching around nothing as if begging you to fill it.

“What would they say, seeing the great Sir Crocodile, spread out like this, ready to take the cock of a feeble weak treasurer” you taunt, pressing your hips closer to his, so that you could drag the tip of your cock up and down through his folds. The act has Crocodile arching as good as he can with the cuff on, his eyes squeezing shut as he clenches his jaw, a breathy noise leaving him, folds only growing slicker around you.

Maybe it was your size difference, with you being average human size, compared to Crocodiles almost 9 feet, or maybe it was his gut deep arousal, but his hole didn’t need much prep for you to be able to fit inside.

That didn’t mean you were just gonna give it to him, since this was supposed to be a lesson. A stuttery moan spills almost silently from Crocodiles lips as your fingers rub through his folds, barely pressing against where he wants you the most. He had never imagined himself in a situation like this, splayed out and dripping for you, someone he had always just seen as a nuisance, but here he was.

“Come on Crocodile… ask nicely” your tone is almost cruel as you push only two fingers inside him, barely felt because of his size, but just enough to rub against his wet gummy insides and leave him aching for more. Crocodiles jaw clenches, barring his teeth as his head weakly rolls to the side, as if to hide his face into the sheets.

“Or… I could just leave you here, thighs spread open, cunt glistening with want. Im sure someone will pass by, and who wouldn’t want a chance to fill this” as if to exaggerate your point, you push two more fingers into his slick hole, burying them as deep as possible into Crocodiles wet insides, punching a gasp out of him.

Crocodile seems to debate it, if he wants to put his pride aside for someone like you, but his thoughtprocess is knocked off course as you pinch his cock with your free hand, twisting it cruelly. Had he not been wearing the seastone cuff, his thighs would have clamped shut and a shout would have left him, but now all his body could do was tense up as a wet keen tumbled out of him.

“P…please” Crocodile finally mumbles, voice small and almost shy, but it can barely be heard over the wet slick sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out of him, his wetness running down your palm and wrist in the process.

“Hm?” you hum, the questioning tone in it clear, as if you didn’t hear him at all, giving his cock another twist just because you could. “fuck me… please…” is gasped out, Crocodiles insides clenching around your slick fingers as they rub and prod around inside him.

Your fingers movements slow to a stop, silence filling the room long enough for Crocodile to peek an eye open and look down at you. Your eyes are intense as they bore into his, the predatory flare in them making Crocodiles insides quiver. “Normally id demand better than that, but I’m starting to pity you” you scoff out, withdrawing your fingers from his hold with a slick noise.

Instead of wiping them off on the sheets, you use the large amount of slick that had gathered in your palm to slick up your shaft, releasing a huffed exhale as Crocodiles eyes widen at the sight. “I’ve thought about making you ride me, so you’ll have to make yourself take it, but we can’t do that right now, can we” you eye the cuff around his one wrist, making Crocodile growl and spit out a weak warbled “fuck you”

His insult carries no heat, clearly only for show, his glare quickly wiped off his face as you finally push inside him. Crocodile needs little time to adjust, resulting in you almost immediately setting a bruising rough pace, drawing in and out of him with loud wet slick noises, his hole gripping onto you as he gasps and moans.

Reaching down, you push his shirt up just enough to splay a hand across his lower stomach, a foxlike grin spreading across your lips as you watch his hips weakly roll into your own. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I could fuck you whenever. Imagine that Crocodile, walking around, cunt leaking my cum, as you try to play tough.” You chuckle darkly, tone thick and hungry in the way only a predatory animal could possess.

As your cock rams into that sensitive spot inside him, Crocodile is finally starting to realize you are truly more than you seem, his cunt drooling a wet puddle under him on the sheets as you take him with a new hunger, a glint appearing in your eyes as your hand presses down harder on his stomach.

“I could knock you up you know, right here.” Is hissed out as you bottom out inside Crocodile, the words making him tighten up and shiver in want. “No one would find you so scary then, would they Crocodile. Waddling around, fat with my kid” you purr, letting both your hands splay across his stomach. It was all fantasy, but by God did it make Crocodile wet and wanting. Something about the fantasy of you, some lesser subordinate knocking him, Sir Crocodile, up, had him seeing double.

The seastone didn’t help with his woozy state, all attempts at forming words only becoming half formed and slurred, Crocodiles eyes going wet and glassy as that familiar feeling spread through his body. “in… inside me…” Crocodile slurs as you curse to yourself, clearly close to the finish line as well. Had it not been for the cuffs, he would have thrown his legs around you, squeezing you against his body to keep you inside him, but all he could do now was beg.

Crocodiles pride crumbled as your fingers squeezed his cock one last time, a pure orgasmic expression crossing his face as he gasped and moaned, his entire body twitching weakly as he came, wetting your cock and the sheets even further as the feeling thrummed through his entire body.

With a deep groan you bottom out inside Crocodile for a last time, letting your eyes squeeze shut as you spill inside him, coating his insides in a thick coat of white. Crocodile whimpers weakly at the feeling, trying to squeeze around you as if to milk your length for more.

He slumps against the sheets further than he already is, eyes falling shut in a relaxed exhausted expression. Crocodile barely notices as you pull out, white leaking out from between his folds to join his own mess on the sheets. He barely even notices you cleaning him up, only twitching and gasping softly when you clean up between his legs.

Its only when the seastone cuff leaves his wrist that Crocodile returns to himself somewhat, as the familiar feeling of his devilfruit washes through his body again. Squinting his eyes open, he catches sight of you getting dressed again, tucking on your shirt, then your coat, and lastly placing your hat on top of your head.

Even with his devilfruit returned to him, Crocodile still feels weak and exhausted, but the good type of exhausted one only gets after a good fuck. Part of him wants to ask you to stay, to hold him and pet his hair, to maybe mumble more dirty fantasies about knocking him up, and how you’d make him live as your pretty little housewife. But instead, Crocodile just grunts to get your attention, his attempt to demand to know where you are going.

“I have to get back to the others, since ill be taking over your duties for the rest of the day and tomorrow” you say, voice resolute and not allowing any denial or struggle. And normally Crocodile would have growled and rejected anyone taking over his duties, but for some reason, the idea of you taking care of him made him relax deeper into the bed, muscles lax and thoughts empty and calm for once.

Approaching him, you press a soft kiss to his forehead before telling him “this room is hidden away from everyone else, so take all the time you need. Ill check up on you later” as you pat his cheek. After telling him where the bathroom is, where he could find towels and replacement sheets and blankets, you were on your way, leaving Crocodile on his lonesome.

It took a while, but he finally pushed himself into a seated position before getting to his feet. The feeling of your cum trickling down the insides of his thighs as the familiar heat of arousal burning inside him once more, making Crocodile shuffle towards the bathroom you had pointed him towards. Even though you had just left, he could still get himself off a few more times from just the memory alone.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be disciplined by you, he wondered how you’d react if he caused issues with your smuggling routes. The idea sent a line of heat up his spine as he stepped into the shower, hand quickly traveling between his thighs, fingers burying themselves into his still sensitive hole, fantasies of hungry glare and cruel fingers filling his mind.

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: John Price x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, praise, self-consciousness, unprotected sex

Summary: you’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious lately, so John decides to fuck some sense into your head

It was one of the bad days. Days, on which all the clothing looked off on you, no matter how pretty they initially looked. “Maybe the problem is not in clothes, huh?” - your mean brain would say. Days, on which your skin looked especially bad. “Oh, is that a new pimple? Do you think anyone would like you like that?” - your horrible mind would sing. Days, on which you just wanted to curl into yourself, to disappear, so that no one could see you - to hide from all the judging eyes, that you mean mean head convinced you were all around.

And John, naturally, caught up with this. He was always good at reading you, seeing right through all your little fidgeting and unnatural quietness. He decided to give you some space, not wanting to push you, knowing that you’ll eventually come to him yourself. But when John cupped your pretty face, all grey and plain with sadness, rubbing your cheekbones with his thumb in attempt to soothe your absolutely unreasonable uneasiness, - you turned away from him. Feeling way too exposed before him, fearing that your husband will see all the little blemishes in your appearance - what if he stops liking you? What if he realizes that he may have so, so much more than that? So you turned away from him, hiding from his observant sight. And it hurt John like a bastard.

That’s how you ended up like this, with John in between your spread legs, hoisting your pelvis up in the air for better angle, bringing your hips towards his every thrust, making your tits jiggle at the impact. You clawed at his thick forearms, mewls and moans slipping off your kiss-swollen lips which only encouraged Price to go harder.

- When. Will it. Finally. Go. Through. That. Thick. Little. Head of yours? - John panted through gritted teeth, accentuating every word with a hard deep snap of his hips against yours, never failing to earn a loud yelp escaping your lips at every single one of them.

He laid your ass on the mattress, hooking backs of your knees with his shoulders, almost folding you in half. You squeaked quietly at your awkward position but all complains left your brain the moment John started working his mighty hips, pounding your mercilessly into your mattress, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your mouth fell agape in a silent scream, hands coming to your husband’s heaving chest, feeling how hot his skin was under your touch.

He crouched down, attaching his lips to the side of your neck, littering every inch available with kisses and soft nibbles, his beard scratching lightly against your skin, only adding to the sensory pleasure.

- You’re fucking gorgeous. This perfect sexy body, and this lovely pretty face. You are amazing, all of you. Do you understand that? - John rasped into your ear, his deep grumbling voice along with hot breathing tickling against your cheek and earshell sent uncontrollable shivers running down your spine. You just mewled something unintelligible in response, hiding your face in the crook of your husband’s neck.

And John didn’t like that. His hand quickly found your chin, grabbing it softly and yanking your face back, making you look directly in his eyes.

- Do you understand that? - man demanded.

- Y-yes, - you muttered, daring your eyes not to close and maintain an intense contact with ocean blues of John’s eyes, bright blush creeping up your neck and chest.

- Say it. Say that you’re beautiful.

- John…- you protested, feeling all more embarrassed all of a sudden.

- Say. It. - John insisted, his pace never faltering. It felt like his beautiful eyes were boring right through your skin and straight into your soul, unraveling every smallest knot that has been choking you lately. And his persistent caressing along with searing kisses seemed to ease you out of your head a bit, feeling heaviness starting leaving your chest little by little.

- I’m beautiful, - you whispered, blushing profusely at his intent gaze. But it didn’t seem to satisfy John as crease between his brows deepened.

- Louder.

- I’m beautiful, - you repeated, way louder this time, accompanied by a shamefully loud moan caused by especially deep thrust, John’s thick cockhead nudging that one sensitive spot within you.

- That’s it baby. So proud of you, - John murmured against your lips sweetly. You leaned up, connecting your lips in a deep kiss, wet and desperate and longing. Your arms circled around his neck, keeping man impossibly closer to your naked chest.

- Such a perfect little baby, - John asked softly after breaking apart from your lips, one hand sneaking in between your bodies, thumb massaging your clit in circular motions. - Who’s my pretty girl?

- I am! I’m your pretty girl! - you gasped, eyes shutting closed as your orgasm suddenly crashed over your trembling body, setting your nerves ablaze with hot pleasure. All of your heavy thoughts seemed to fade away, only leaving space in your head for your husband and his heavy praise.

But it was nowhere near towards the end. After all, John did need to fuck some sense into that silly self-sabotaging head of yours<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback!<3

[teddyfalls]

WHY WON’T YOU BE MY GIRL? — conrad fisher

PAIRING. conrad fisher x conklin!reader

SYNOPSIS. conrad asks you to go to the beach with him late at night so that he can teach you to surf and things lead elsewhere.

WARNINGS & FEATURES. fluff but angst if you squint, ooc conrad, shy reader, fem!reader (implied), you/yours pronouns used, no use of y/n

WORD COUNT. 1.1k

TEDDY TALKS. hi!! this is my first fic posted on here so i hope you guys enjoy it. it’s also dedicated to my best friend and the moon to my sun <3

masterlist. | who i write for. | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic is based on “why won’t you be my girl?” by william hinson.

THE NIGHT HAD FALLEN FASTER than you had fallen in love. It wasn’t a new thing by any means—anything Conrad did made you fall even more head-over-heels for him, even if that was near impossible. But tonight, it felt different. It felt like the love had come anew.

“Are you coming then?”

Even his voice sounded like honey. A perfect melody mixed intermittently with the midnight wind, like his voice was made to make you fall in love with him right then and there.

“To the beach?”

You ask, wondering why on Earth he was asking you to come to the beach with him at nine at night, just days after you’d gotten to Cousins. Conrad had been in a far better mood, that lovely light-bringing smile on his face, his past teasing demeanour at its full potential. Yet something still felt… off with him. Like something was toying with his mind, but you didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to ruin his mood.

“Yeah, the beach. Obviously. Do you— d’you not want to come?”

There was a hesitance in his words that you wanted to point out, but your mind didn’t dwindle on it for too long.

However, you did stay silent for a moment, causing him to tilt his head to the side in mere confusion. It didn’t take him long to figure out that you had sensed the hesitation within his voice, and his eyes softened their glare.

He rested his hands against the smooth side of his surfboard, which was completely light blue in colour and reflected the moonlight against its surface.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be nice to offer, you know? Take you surfing like you asked last summer.”

That brings a smile back on your face.

He remembered.

You nod rather eagerly, and he smiles back—all teeth and lips, a complete sure smile that never faltered. It made you so glad to see him like this, no darkness behind those eyes, just a sparkle in them. A sparkle that only seemed to appear when he was with you.

—

It took you both only a couple of minutes to get down to the beach, the wind running through your hair making Conrad’s look rather neat compared to yours. It made him laugh quietly watching you spin against the weight of the wind to try and get it out of your face.

He stopped just before the crux of the ocean, where it swam up against the shore and licked the sand with its cold waters. He wanted to actually try to teach you before you got in the water, knowing it’d be safer for you that way (and knowing Steven would have his head if he put you in harm’s way).

As he planted his surfboard in the ground beside him, he held a hand out for yours.

“Oh? You want this?” You say with a laugh. “You’ll have to come and get it!”

And with that you took off, running down the beach and kicking your sliders off on the way, looking back at him.

He laughed wholeheartedly, yelling as he watched you run off.

“There’s no way I’m running!”

Even though it was dark—being nighttime and the time when you would usually be watching a movie with your mother and Savannah—you could still see his face lighting up with not just the moonlight, but with a happiness that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Happiness that you knew no matter what that he deserved more than anything.

Despite his words, the moment you’d stopped to turn around to see if he was following, he took off too, running after you with sand kicking up behind his feet.

He managed to catch up with you quick enough, hands reaching for yours blindly as the moon hid behind a cloud for a second. The moment he touched you, you’d dropped the surfboard you were holding and let it clatter to the ground as the moon came back out, coating you both in a glittery shimmer of moonlight. His hands were still clasping around your wrists when you moved one of your hands to manoeuvre the hair from his eyes, wanting to see that sparkle in a closer proximity.

“C—“ you began, but he cut you off.

“I think I caught you.” He says, breathlessly. Practically panting into your face, his eyes search yours, that smile on your face fading to something of a miniature grin. A knowing one.

“Yeah?” You whisper lightly.

“Yeah.” He mutters back, eyes flicking momentarily to your lips. His hands flex around your wrists, letting them go once his mind had returned to what he was actually doing.

Looking like he had more to say than just simply that, he gulps. Your Conrad—the boy you’d liked since, well, forever had you wrapped around his finger. Yet he was the shy one.

“I wanted to, ahem, ask something,” he manages to get out, a cough between his words, voice still low in the moonlight as he starts to make space between you, all too well conscious of the minimal amount of it from beforehand.

“Ask away, Conrad. I’m here.” You say, voice equally as quiet, if not more.

“Why won’t you be with me?”

You look extremely confused, so he presses on.

“Why won’t you be my girl?”

With that the proximity between you immediately minimises again, his breath fanning against your face in quick, short intervals. You look into his eyes, almost pleading him to say something, to break the silence before you have to do it yourself.

The hands by his sides move, almost in slow motion, but then it’s as if fireworks explode in your mind and you can’t help but let your body move without willing it to do so, letting your body have a pure mind of its own as you move even closer to him. He lets your bodies easily become one, hands coming up to cup your face as if it’s second nature.

Then he’s pressing his lips against yours and it's like nothing else in the world exists anymore. The more he tilts your chin up into his the more he smiles, and you smile too, and those fireworks feel like they’ll never cease to exist.

You’re the one to break it. Break the silence and the kiss, panting rugged breaths as his hand moves a strand of your hair from your eyes, just as you had done for him.

“I will.” You whisper, holding onto his wrists now.

“I will be your girl, Conrad.”

⌗ teddyfalls

[glearyyyne]

a true story

Synopsis: Working at the bar as a waitress took a toll on you as soon as a white-haired man started to appear in the bar just to watch you. It was fine at first but he started to cause chaos in the bar which made you want to resign when he offered a deal with you and you accepted it, you didn't know it would lead to you questioning your feelings toward him.

Word Count: 4,959 words

Warning: 18+(because of kissing), angst, cursing, misunderstanding, mention of gun, fight.

Note: Another eternal sunshine song-based! Took me a lot of time to finish this 'cause I've been wanting to drop this fic but my friend encouraged me to continue and post it. To my friend, I love you very much for encouraging me to continue this!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey [Reader's name]!"

You spun around while adjusting your apron right after punching in for your shift.

"What's up, Fumiko?" you asked, quickly tying your apron into a neat bow.

"Table 7 needs you," she informed you, prompting a frustrated sigh from you. "Can't they wait a minute? I just clocked in!"

"Well, you wouldn't want to upset the boss again by ignoring his favorite customer," Fumiko gently reminded you.

You let out a sigh, muttering under your breath in frustration. 

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before stepping out of the locker room to begin your shift, knowing that serving Table 7 was your first task as always.

Table 7 was just a short distance from the bar, but what made it hard to miss was the white-haired man seated there, his striking appearance standing out among the other customers. 

Pausing once more, you took another deep breath, gathering your composure before making your way over to the table.

As Satoru sensed footsteps approaching from behind, he turned with a broad smile upon seeing you. 

"Ah, [Reader's nickname]! Wonderful to see you!" he greeted enthusiastically as you reached his table. 

You couldn't resist remarking, "My parents gave me a name for a reason," your grip on the notepad tightened as you struggled to contain your frustration.

Satoru's eyes sparkled behind his trademark sunglasses. 

"Okay, chill kitten," he teased once more. You internally groaned at the pet name. 

"Call me another pet name, and I'll make sure to file a restraining order against you," you threatened, although you knew you couldn't file a restraining order because...

"Oh yeah? I think you're forgetting something, princess," Satoru retorted, pulling out a pocket gun.

He’s one of the most dangerous men in Japan.

"You can't file a restraining order against me when they know how dangerous I am to society," he whispered with such intimidation that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but the smile on his face hinted at a hint of psychopathy. 

With a sigh, you said, "What do you want to order?" eager to move past the uncomfortable exchange.

"Mhmm, if you were on the menu, I would have ordered you," Satoru shamelessly remarked as he perused the menu. 

His words made you want to whack him on the spot.

"If you're looking for entertainment, I suggest booking a private room with one of our exotic dancers," you suggested, hoping to redirect his attention away from you. 

But luck wasn't on your side.

"They've already been touched by those dirty drunk businessmen, and besides, nobody will focus on some waitress like you when you're so pretty and perfect for me," Satoru explained, his words dripping with arrogance.

You scoffed at his statement. "Well, if you're into looks, I'm sorry, but I don't date guys like you who are too arrogant and full of ego," you told him angrily.

Satoru chuckled in response. "Well, I can change your mind about me if you'll let me," he said, his tone suggesting he wasn't about to give up. 

It seemed he wasn't going to let this go easily.

You stared at him blankly. "Can't you just tell me what your order is?" you asked, not wanting to waste any more time on him.

"Why? So you can go back and ignore me as usual?" Satoru asked with a pout.

"Good thing you know," you retorted.

"Of course I know," Satoru replied, seemingly about to continue, but he was interrupted by another customer.

"Hey miss, can I get another bottle of beer?" the customer interjected.

Turning to the customer, you nodded, "Sure, after I take his order," you said, pointing your pen towards Satoru, who wore an unpleasant expression on his face.

"Get another waiter to get you some beer," Satoru told the customer, his tone dismissive. 

You tried to intervene, "Hey!" but Satoru continued.

"Sorry, he's just, you know," you attempted to explain to the customer, but Satoru cut in.

"I'll get the usual meal," he said with a smile.

"You got it then," you replied, jotting down the order that you already knew, before walking away. 

Satoru eyed the guy who interrupted your conversation, making a mental note to deal with him later.

You continued your work, feeling the weight of his eyes following you around whenever you served someone. 

Those annoyingly pretty blue eyes seemed to track your every move. 

You did your best to ignore him, but you couldn't help but return his stare whenever you unconsciously scanned the bar. 

Despite finishing his meal, he remained, still watching you. When he noticed your gaze, he smiled and waved at you. 

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your tasks, determined not to let him distract you any further.

"So cute," Satoru said with a giggle as you looked away, obviously amused by how hard you were trying to resist his charms.

He enjoyed the challenge, especially when it came to you.

After hours of serving food and drinks to patrons, you glanced at the clock and realized you were close to the end of your shift. 

Surprisingly, Satoru was still seated at Table 7. 

It seemed like he was waiting for something, but you figured it was none of your business anyway.

"Bring this to table 6," the bartender instructed, handing you five drinks that needed to be served. 

This was your last task of the night, and it had to be five drinks. 

Carefully balancing them on a tray, you set off to deliver them to table 6. As you walked, you suddenly realized that Table 6 was dangerously close to Satoru's.

"Here's your drinks, sir," you spoke after arriving at their table, gently placing down the drinks. 

The men at the table suddenly went quiet as you approached. 

One of them, who was uncomfortably close, whistled and eyed your body, but you ignored him and continued placing the drinks.

"I didn't think the drinks would come with such a beautiful lady," he said, earning laughter from his companions. 

You knew Satoru was watching, so you felt somewhat safer in case the man tried anything.

"Why are you ignoring me, baby?" the guy said drunkenly. 

Ignoring him, you were about to place the last drink when you felt a hand grope your ass, causing you to spill the drink.

"Fuck!" the guy shouted, drawing attention from other customers. "You bitch!" he exclaimed, seemingly about to attack you.

Bracing yourself, you covered your face with the tray, ready to defend against the assault.

But the attack never came.

You uncovered your face from the tray as soon as you heard water splashing. 

To your surprise, you saw the guy who groped you was covered in water, with Satoru holding an empty glass raised to the guy's head. 

You were speechless at what he had done.

"What's your problem, man?!" the guy shouted at Satoru, his voice filled with anger. Everyone in the vicinity seemed to be holding their phones, ready to record the impending fight between the two.

Satoru scoffed, chuckling."You. You're my problem," he said angrily, pulling out the pocket gun he had and pointing it at the man, who suddenly looked scared. 

"You're touching what's mine," Satoru's voice was laced with possessiveness.

Your eyes widened as you rushed to Satoru, attempting to stop him from shooting the guy. 

"Satoru, stop it!" you pleaded, reaching for his wrist to prevent him from pulling the trigger.

"Just a second, princess, we need more time," Satoru said, his gaze still fixed on the man as he continued to point the gun.

"What time?!" you exclaimed, panic rising within you as the situation escalated.

"Now," Satoru calmly replied, finally lowering the gun. 

Before you could ask him anything else, security guards arrived on the scene, intervening in the fight.

You were speechless, still processing everything that had just unfolded, as Satoru took the opportunity to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss your head. 

"Your shift ends now, right? Can you go to the locker room? I'll take you home," he whispered softly.

Still surprised by the turn of events, you didn't have time to get annoyed at his actions. 

Instead, you nodded silently before heading to the locker room, leaving Satoru behind to deal with the aftermath of what had happened.

You made your way to the locker room, trying to calm your racing heart. Fumiko entered soon after, concern evident on her face. 

"Hey, I saw what happened. Are you okay?" she asked, gently rubbing your shoulder.

"I didn't think your boyfriend was capable of doing that," she added, causing you to look at her in surprise. "Boyfriend?" you let out incredulously.

"Is he not your boyfriend?" Fumiko asked carefully.

"Never in my life would he be my boyfriend," you vehemently denied, heading to your locker to grab your things. 

All you wanted was to retreat to your bed for the rest of the night.

"I think the boss wants to talk about what happened," Fumiko informed you, leaving you sighing heavily. 

This might be it; he might fire you.

"Okay, I'll head there," you said, grabbing your bag and preparing to leave. However, Fumiko stopped you before you could go any further.

"Get some rest, will ya?" she said with a reassuring smile. 

Her words resonated with you, and you returned her smile, nodding in agreement before finally leaving the locker room.

**

The conversation with your boss wasn't too lengthy, though he scolded you for spilling the drink that had caused the fight. 

However, to your relief, he didn't fire you. It felt as though Satoru might have intervened somehow to prevent your immediate termination. 

The bad news was that you were suspended for a day, meaning you couldn't work tomorrow. 

While it was disappointing, you understood the decision. It might be for the best to keep the club safe, especially if it meant Satoru would stay away while you were suspended.

As you exited through the door, you saw Satoru smoking nearby. As soon as he noticed you, he threw away the cigarette and began to approach you, but you stopped him in his tracks.

"Go home, I'll take the bus," you told him firmly, walking in the opposite direction. However, Satoru was about to let you go slowly.

"Wait, I just told you I'll take you home," he insisted.

"But I can't face you right now, Satoru. I almost lost my job there!" you snapped at him, frustration evident in your voice. 

You expected him to argue back, but instead, he surprised you by taking off his blazer and wrapping it around you, leaving you speechless.

"It's cold outside. Please, let me take you home," he said softly, his demeanor unusually gentle. It was the first time you had seen him act like this.

"Will you leave me alone if you take me home?" you asked, hoping for him to accept it.

However, his smile dropped at your question.

"I don't think I can leave you alone, not when I like you too much," Satoru confessed, but you didn't take his confession lightly.

"Oh, stop this crap. You can go and find someone else to date then," you retorted, refusing to let his words sway you.

"If you agree to be my fake girlfriend for a day, I'll leave you alone," Satoru suggested, his proposal tempting despite your reservations.

"Why do you even need a fake girlfriend to begin with?" you asked, curious about his motives.

"To impress my grandfather. That geezer wants me to bring someone to a ball party that's held tomorrow," Satoru replied, providing an explanation that made sense.

The timing coincidentally aligned with the day you were suspended from work, and you didn't have any other plans. 

"Fine, you better keep your end of the deal," you told him, reluctantly agreeing to his proposal.

Satoru smiled softly at you after you accepted his offer. That left you feeling something that you couldn't explain.

What the hell was that?

**

As you were about to head inside your house, Satoru stopped you. "Hey, I'll pick you up tomorrow by 7 am," he said, causing you to stop in your tracks.

"7? That's too early! Can't you see it's 1 am?" you protested.

"I know, but it'll be fun. You'll get to be treated like a princess," Satoru smirked at you before turning and walking back to his car, leaving you standing there feeling confused.

You were about to ask him for clarification, but he had already left. 

Shaking your head in bewilderment, you headed inside the house and got ready for bed, still wondering what Satoru had planned for tomorrow morning.

**

"I didn't think you'd bring me to the mall," you remarked to Satoru, who was busy looking at clothes for you.

"Does it really have to be here at Louis Vuitton?" you added, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the luxurious surroundings.

"I can't let you go into the ball wearing cheap clothes, and besides, that geezer is allergic to anything less than top-tier fashion. So, if we want to impress him, then..." Satoru paused, pulling out a dress. 

"You need to wear this," he said, showing you the dress.

"I would have to work ten jobs just to be able to purchase that," you told him, feeling a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

Satoru chuckled at your remark. 

"But you don't need to work ten jobs to buy this when you have me," he said, his ego shining through. You rolled your eyes at his typical arrogance.

"We're only going to buy one, right?" you asked, trying to reel him in, but Satoru didn't respond. 

Instead, he is immediately swarmed by sales ladies to assist him in finding you the perfect clothes.

The original plan was just to buy clothes for the ball, but it ended up with tons of outfits for various occasions – working, hanging out, lounging at home, and even for work.

"You didn't stick to your plan, did you?" you asked him as you both left the shop, him carrying tons of bags while you only had a few.

"So what? At least you have more clothes to wear," Satoru remarked as you both walked towards the parking area on the ground floor of the mall. 

Just as Satoru was about to open the door to his car, your eyes widened as you saw someone unexpected, causing you to instinctively pull Satoru close to you. 

His hands unconsciously went to the wall, as if pinning you against it.

"Woah, I didn't expect this," Satoru let out with a smirk, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

"Shut up, there's someone I didn't want to see, and I need you to cover for me," you told him urgently, but Satoru was stubborn. 

"Where?" he said, looking around, making you panic. You grabbed both of his cheeks and made him face you. 

"Just look at me! Don't turn around!" you whispered angrily.

"Well, I can't deny you're giving me the chance to look at your pretty face," Satoru teased, but you rolled your eyes in exasperation. 

As you saw a shadow approaching, panic surged through you again. Without thinking, you pressed your lips against Satoru's. 

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist. He kissed you back, his hand instinctively moving to your waist while the other remained pressed against the wall.

You could feel Satoru's smirk against your lips as he began to dominate the kiss between the two of you. 

Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed when someone approached.

"Uh, excuse me?" the guy's voice interrupted, causing Satoru to pull away from the kiss and bite his lip in frustration. 

"Yes?" Satoru replied, trying to maintain his composure as you ducked your face, hiding onto his chest in embarrassment.

"I think you shouldn't be doing that here," the guy said, and you stayed quiet as you recognized his voice. Out of all the places, he had to be here?

"You're ruining a good time for me, dude," Satoru told the guy without even looking at him. 

"If you interfere again, you'll never see the light of day," Satoru threatened, his hand moving to his gun just to scare the guy off. 

The guy backed away and left, leaving you two alone at last. You finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Was it him, wasn't it?" Satoru spoke, his voice deep and serious.

"Huh?" you asked, finally looking up to see him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"The reason why you're in this position?" Satoru asked, his hand gently holding your chin. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

"But then again, I can finally taste your lips," Satoru whispered, his words causing you to blush furiously.

You thought he was about to lean in for another kiss, but to your surprise, he pulled away and picked up the bags from the ground before heading back to the car to open it.

You stood there, speechless, trying to process what had just happened and the whirlwind of emotions it stirred within you.

"You're not going inside?" Satoru asked, a smirk evident in his tone, and you felt the urge to wipe it off his face. 

Ignoring his smugness, you walked up to the car and opened the passenger door, getting inside and taking a seat. Satoru didn't say much as he started the engine. 

You waited, expecting him to speak, but when he finally did as he began driving, you weren't prepared for his choice of topic.

"I think it would be best if you wore the midnight blue dress so it would match my eyes," Satoru suddenly spoke, catching you off guard.

"You just had to choose that as the icebreaker for our conversation?" you asked, staring at him incredulously.

"What? You wanted me to talk about how sweet those lips of yours are? Because I can tell you straight if you want," Satoru replied casually, his words annoying you.

"Whatever, it's not like you'll be getting more than that," you muttered, but you heard him chuckle.

"I assure you, princess, that you'll give me more," Satoru said confidently.

"Why do you think so?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"I just feel it," he replied cryptically, leaving you puzzled by his enigmatic response.

***

You admired yourself in the mirror after putting on the fitted midnight dress. 

Lost in thought, you didn't notice Satoru approaching until he appeared behind you, his hand resting on your waist as he looked at you with a grin on his face.

"So gorgeous," he whispered directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitched as his words stirred something within you, and it felt strange to have Satoru eyeing you as if you were his.

Sensing your reaction, Satoru leaned down and kissed your neck, leaving you shocked by his sudden boldness. 

The sensation of his lips against your skin sent a jolt through you, and you struggled to compose yourself during his unexpected actions.

"Can't help myself," Satoru murmured against your skin, his voice low and seductive. "You look so irresistible in that dress, like a vision from a dream."

His lips trailed along your neck, sending tingles down your spine. 

"I knew it would fit you the moment I saw that dress in the store," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin.

"Satoru—" you began to protest, but he hushed you as if he already knew what you were going to say. 

"Shh, remember you're my fake girlfriend now," Satoru reminded you, his words a gentle reminder of the charade you both agreed to.

As you slowly processed how the fake girlfriend charade had begun, you felt a cold band being placed on your finger. 

Quickly, you stared at your hand, surprised to see a beautiful ring adorning your ring finger. 

While you were still absorbed in examining the ring, Satoru took the opportunity to whisper to you. 

"I need to let them see that you're taken," he said with a smile, "for now," he added cryptically.

Confused by his words, you couldn't shake the feeling that all of this would lead to consequences in the end. 

**

Both you and Satoru entered the luxurious mansion, with Satoru guiding you inside with his hand on your waist. 

You tried your best not to appear too stiff, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be noticed by everyone around you. 

Eventually, you both stopped at the entrance of the ballroom. 

"Make sure to act cool," Satoru whispered to you, and you nodded, taking a deep breath before the two of you entered the room.

The ballroom was as extravagant as expected, filled with large paintings, a lavish chandelier, and a polished floor where guests danced to the slow jazz music playing in the background. 

The room buzzed with the sound of people conversing and laughing, adding to the lively atmosphere. 

You observed your surroundings while Satoru guided you to where his grandfather was, trying to maintain your composure amid the greatness and finesse of the event.

As you stopped observing the room, you finally spotted Satoru's grandfather, who was conversing with other guests, holding a glass of wine in his right hand. 

"Hey, old man," Satoru greeted his grandfather casually as if he were addressing a stranger. 

His grandfather turned to look at Satoru with a blank expression, but as soon as he noticed you, his face lit up with a warm smile.

"Oh! She must be your date for this event?" his grandfather asked, his attention fully on you and Satoru as he excused himself from the other guests he had been speaking with. 

He extended his hand toward you as if expecting a handshake. 

You looked at Satoru for encouragement, and he smiled reassuringly before you accepted his grandfather's handshake.

"It's so nice to meet you, Ayaka-san," his grandfather greeted you, but you were utterly confused. 

"Ayaka? I'm [reader's name]," you told him, which caused the old man's smile to falter as he stared at you and Satoru back and forth.

"You're not Kobayashi's daughter?" he asked, further adding to your confusion. 

"Kobayashi—what?" you turned to Satoru, seeking an explanation for this unexpected turn of events. 

Satoru simply laughed, placing his hand on your shoulder and pulling you in close so you could hear him.

"Go and take some food from the buffet while I discuss some things with my old man," he instructed you. 

You were about to protest, but you felt Satoru's grip tighten. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. 

"Now go, but don't stray too far from my sight," he added as he walked towards his grandfather, engaging in a discussion that felt off-limits to you.

Feeling a bit left out, you made your way to the buffet, grabbing a lavish plate as you pondered your choices. 

Lost in thought, you were surprised when someone placed a cupcake on your plate, prompting you to look up at them.

"It seems you're lost in thought, madam," a boy who seemed younger than you spoke.

"Oh, sorry. It's just... I'm not used to these kinds of events," you explained.

"I could tell," he said with a smile. "I'm Isamu, Gojo-san's cousin," he introduced himself.

"Oh, I'm [reader's name], his girlfriend," you introduced yourself, but you noticed how his face became confused.

"Really? But everyone here was told that Ayaka-san is his girlfriend," he said, adding to your confusion. 

Who is this Ayaka-san? If he already has a girlfriend, why would he bring you here?

"Is she that popular?" you asked him, feeling increasingly perplexed.

"Wait, you don't know her? I thought Gojo-san at least told you about her," he replied.

"If you wouldn't mind, would you like to dance with me? I can fill you in on the background of the two," he suggested, extending his hand. 

You glanced at Satoru, who was still busy greeting guests, and figured it wouldn't hurt, so you accepted his hand and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor.

As you began dancing, he finally spoke. "They were playmates in their childhood. Gojo-san would throw a tantrum if Ayaka-san wasn't his playmate," he explained. 

You listened attentively, but you couldn't shake the strange feeling bubbling up inside you, as if your blood was boiling.

"Everyone adores them, and it's already been agreed that they'll get married when they're older," he continued, leaving you even more puzzled and uncertain about your role in this situation.

Feeling numb from the revelation and betrayed by Satoru's omission, you couldn't help but feel like you were being cast as the villain in this family's storybook. 

"But I don't know, everything changed when Gojo-san was appointed to take over his father's business, and it was mentioned that the business was dangerous," Isamu explained, adding to your confusion.

"So where is this Ayaka-san?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I don't know. I thought she would come today as Gojo-san's date, but I didn't expect it to be you," Isamu replied, his tone sounding mocking to your ears.

“But I should give you a warning, Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble,” Isamu told you which made you even more confused.

Before you could respond, you felt a hand on your waist and turned to see Satoru. 

"Excuse me, but you're dancing with my girlfriend," he said, his tone polite but laced with tension.

"Oh, sorry," Isamu apologized, releasing your hand and wiping it, which triggered you. 

"I'll leave you two alone for some time," he said with a smile before walking away, leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

Satoru cupped your cheek, his concern was evident in his eyes. 

"Hey, are you alright? Did he do something wrong?" he asked, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being scrutinized by everyone around you. 

Pushing away his hand, you looked at the ground and whispered, "I... I want to go home.”

Satoru didn't respond immediately, but you could sense his frustration as he glanced around the room. 

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he muttered, his words filled with regret. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close, and together you walked out of the ballroom.

Satoru quickly led you to one of the bathrooms, entering before you and locking the door behind him. 

He turned to you, finding you still avoiding his gaze, unsure of what to do next.

Taking charge, he placed his hands on your waist and lifted you, seating you on the sink. 

Once you were settled, he leaned in, resting both hands on the sink as he studied your expression.

"What did you two talk about?" Satoru asked, his tone gentle but insistent. 

You bit your lip, hesitant to discuss it. His hand moved to your chin, his touch soft as he advised, "Don't bite them too hard."

Your mind was swirling with conflicting emotions. 

Just yesterday, you were angry with him and vowed to keep your distance, but now... the mere mention of Ayaka next to Satoru stirred a fierce jealousy within you. 

Were you really starting to fall for him?

You gazed into Satoru's eyes, he looked at you with a genuine look. But then, a warning from Isamu echoed in your mind

"Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble."

Conflicted and unsure of whom to trust, you couldn't bear the thought of Satoru displaying this same affection to Ayaka, his supposed childhood sweetheart.

In a split-second decision, you seized Satoru by the collar and pulled him into a kiss, letting your emotions take over.

Satoru responded swiftly, his hands finding their place on your waist as he reciprocated the kiss with equal intensity. 

You felt a surge of desperation, a need for him to affirm that you were indeed his. Your hands moved to his collar, unbuttoning his clothes in a feverish haze. 

Satoru allowed you to take the lead, deepening the kiss as the passion between you intensified.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath, and rested your head on Satoru's shoulder. 

His hands found yours, guiding you as you helped him remove his clothes. 

His whispered encouragement urged you on, and at that moment, you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming desire, allowing yourself to lose control completely.

**

You woke up in Satoru's room, feeling a wave of confusion and regret wash over you as the events of the previous night flooded your mind. 

You remembered the passion and the intimacy, but also the emptiness that followed. 

“Don't think about anything, just think of me- God I love you too much, you're driving me crazy.” Satoru's whispered declarations of love echoed in your ears last night, but you knew deep down they held no true meaning.

As you sat up, the reality of the situation hit you hard. Satoru had left you alone in his bed, a painful reminder of his indifference. 

Anger and betrayal surged within you, mingling with the hurt and vulnerability.

"Fuck you, Satoru," you muttered under your breath as you clenched your fists, the sting of betrayal fueling your resolve. 

Despite the ache in your legs, you pushed yourself to get dressed, every movement a painful reminder of the night before.

Before leaving, you scribbled a short note, a final message to Satoru. 

"Don't come find me," you wrote hastily, the words carrying the weight of your shattered trust and wounded pride. 

With a heavy heart and a resolve to start anew, you left his house behind, planning to leave the city and leave him behind for good.

[flame-shadow]

A breakdown of my quirrel!nosk comic from last year (original post here) since I like doing breakdowns and talking about my process, and I know at least some people like reading those things. :)

First of all, a little background. I made that comic in an evening with just a pencil, a black marker, two grey markers, and a yellow-orange marker. (All markers had a thick tip and a thin tip, and all were water-based markers, so they don't blend like alcohol markers, but they can still be layered to affect the values) I had a text post from @g0at0ad saved in my drafts that said "gotta say. massive missed opportunity to not have nosk mimic quirrel to lure the knight into its lair." and finally, I had an idea for how to illustrate the reveal and felt I had a decent idea for the nosk's design.

I wanted to follow the same encounter order as the game provides, and by happy coincidence, I realized that the route from first sighting to nosk den includes the hot spring, so it made perfect sense for that location and the real Quirrel to appear in the comic.

Ghost spots a Quirrel-like figure in the darkness in the first panel, and then as the path continues and drops into the hot spring, there's (real) Quirrel, so clearly that's who Ghost saw a minute ago. Yay, friend! And since Quirrel explores around, it's not strange that Ghost would spot him again in an area not so far away, though it's odd how he got ahead of them. Perhaps a different tunnel? And it seems like Quirrel wants to lead the way to something, so Ghost follows, until- That's not Quirrel.

In addition to the potential of a reader already knowing the game's locations and recognizing the path to the nosk's den, there are other visual clues that subtly communicate that something might not be right. I made it so every panel but the hot spring one has black silhouettes encroaching on the space within.

The third panel is the mildest one being encroached upon because Ghost doesn't yet feel like something is off (still reassured from seeing Quirrel in the safe hot spring) but the trap is coming together. The existence of the spider web in the corner is a nod to the trap because it's a common visual symbol for being trapped.

Also note how both the first and third panels have some safety via straight panel edges. Contrasted with the fourth and fifth panels which have no straight edges as Ghost cannot escape and there is no safety.

Another subtle reinforcement of danger vs safety is how the use of black is very limited in the hot spring panel. It's a brighter room mechanically, yes, but it's also a Safe Room. The only black is Ghost's void parts and a thin outline around Quirrel (and also a bit of shading on his arm that I did out of habit before remembering that I wasn't going to use black to shade him here, oops!)

And, note that in the only panel with Real Quirrel, he isn't framed against a darker shape in the background.

Okay, and finally, I will share a bit about the nosk reveal panel and its design...

This pose and angle are dramatic and all, but they're The Worst for showcasing the actual design of the nosk! Just a complete mistake on my part that I did my best to roll with, since I didn't realize until too late how I'd messed myself up.

Which happens! I don't always get it right, and especially when I'm working traditionally, there's a point where I can't go back, so I just have to make do with what I gave myself. :) I don't hate what I have here, but I have been dissatisfied with it ever since I drew the lineart.

A thought I have had since then was that maybe I should've drawn it larger, to be more threatening? Maybe a different pose to show off the side-body frills? I explored a couple ideas below, but honestly, I think the whole panel would have to be reworked to get it right.

Making sure that the background frames the nosk effectively would be one of the main things I'd redo, but I'm getting tired and don't feel like drawing more, so I'll just leave it at the nosk replacement sketches.

And since I don't think I did a good job with displaying the nosk's design effectively, I quickly sketched some of the features to maybe show them off a bit better.

I like the gimmick of the nosk turning its head, so I pretty much always maintain that with my nosk designs. This one is no exception. Quirrel's head and face become the cranium and upper jaw while Monomon's mask becomes the lower jaw - the extra length causes an underbite. I've always been a fan of when people add a veil hanging from Monomon's mask while Quirrel is wearing it, so that's where the frills come from. ("Why didn't you include the veil in your Quirrel drawings, then?" I hear you ask. And honestly..... I don't know! That could've been an oversight or it could've been deliberate and I just don't remember my justification. That happens sometimes XD)

Anyway uhhh yeah! I think that's it. I like making comics. I like thinking about nosk. Tadaa~

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 9 (Stripping)

Soldier Boy x Reader (NSFW)

(945 Words)

Summary: you tell Soldier Boy about your mission before hopping in the shower

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, little bit of blood, typical canon violence (it’s the boys duh), alcohol consumption, making out, striptease, heavily implied shower sex at the end

Notes: this was a fun change in pace after yesterday’s prompt LMAO anyway I love soldier boy, enjoy the fic!!!

-

The door behind you closes with a slam as you catch your breath. You quickly walk over to the mirror in the corner, you take in your bloodied appearance, trying to process the completely batshit insanity that was your last mission. You feel yourself take shakily taking in deep breaths, still running high on adrenaline.

“Hey there.”

You whip your head around to see Ben, sitting on the couch, nursing a small bottle of bourbon. He looks at you, amused. Seeing you caked in blood and sweat seemed like this seemed just like a normal Tuesday for Ben, considering all his experiences way back in the day during his glory days as the legendary Soldier Boy, where he would be in the same position as you.

“Hi,” you reply, staring at him for a moment.

“What happened to you? You look like shit,” he grins.

“You-” you make your way over to him, slumping down on the couch beside him, not giving a shit about the dried up blood occupying your clothes. “…Have no idea.” you sigh. With a subtle nod, he passes you the bottle, where you swiftly gulp down a couple sips, feeling that delicious burn run down your throat. “Where’s?-���

“Butcher and the cum guzzler?” You nod at him witch a chuckle. “They’re out, doing god only knows what, which gives us…” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in. “…The perfect opportunity to release some of that pent up adrenaline.” You meet his gaze, brilliantly hazel with flecks of green staring at you wolfishly.

“You know what?” You take his hand in yours, pulling him up, “I think I’d like that”

“There we go,” he chuckles. Once he gets up to his feet, Ben can’t keep his hands off you. His large hands are on your waist, gripping the small of your back.

You lean in to kiss him, and he tilts his head to yours, giving you access. The sensation of his tongue in your mouth sends shivers down your spine, letting out a soft groan. Ben lets out a perverted snicker, as his hands make their way to your ass, groping you firmly, keeping flush against his chest.

Your feverish make out session leads you two to the bathroom, messily slamming the door as you find yourself positioned sitting on the closed toilet.

“Easy there, Soldier Boy,” you chide, annunciating his hero name with a sensual drawl, biting his lip gently as you pull away from his kiss, maneuvering yourself on top of him. “As much as I’d love for you to completely wreck me,” you continue, getting up from straddling him, “I feel fucking disgusting.”

“That’s alright babe,” Ben says eagerly, “I don’t mind a little mess.” He winks.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” you voice flirtatiously, “I was hoping you could watch me take off these messy clothes,” you lean back toward the sink, “…And maybe join me in the shower?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Ben lets out a low, gravelly chuckle. You sense the heat in his voice and hearing it sends arousal shooting to your sex, which begins to ache in anticipation. “You make a very tempting offer, I’m in.”

You shoot him a sly look as you begin to undress yourself slowly. “You wanna know how I got all bloody?” You glance over to Ben, who lets out a noise of approval. “I was hunting a supe, nothing special, one of the D-listers.” The first item to go is your jacket, which you unzip slowly, giving Ben access to look at your chest, which prominent through the fabric of your shirt.

“He was on the run after getting himself in hot water with Vought.” The jacket hits the floor as you continue to speak. “Unfortunately for him, he ran into me before Vought could get to him.” Next, off come your pants. You turn around, giving Ben a decent view of your ass before teasing him with just enough, and turning back around. “He had some info I needed, and was too stupid to give it to me, so I figured it would be better to put him out of his misery before Vought got their claws in him and probably would’ve done something worse.”

You find yourself on top of Ben once again, pulling off your shirt, exposing your upper half to him. You can feel his length, hard and eager through his grey sweatpants. Coquettishly, you decide to have a little fun, grinding on him ever so slightly. A guttural moan erupts from Ben’s throat, you can’t tell if the wet patch is coming from you or Ben as you feel the arousal rip through you. Left in nothing but your underwear, you reach the peak of your story.

“He put up a fight- more of one than I thought, but it wasn’t so bad once I crushed his skull with my bare hands.” You get off him abruptly, not wanting to finish this before it even gets started. You flip open the shower curtain and turn on the faucet, hearing the shower pour down.

Slipping off your final piece of clothing, you are completely nude as you motion for Ben to take off his own clothes and meet you in the shower.

“Jesus,” he stares at you in awe, getting up and frantically removing his own clothes, haphazardly tossing his Giants jersey to the side and ripping off his sweatpants. “My god, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he grunts, before sliding his arm around you and pulling you into the shower with him.

You giggle before pulling him into a sloppy kiss, sliding the shower curtain closed behind you.

[grapejuicestyless]

Can You See Right Through Me?

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summery: You, Belly and Stevens older sister, realize that as everyone grows older, you have become less and less important. Suddenly, everything you’ve never felt comes crashing at you.

The past summer and every single one before that had led me to this moment now. Standing alone in an empty room in the dark while everyone else ventured off to a bonfire.

It was like a switch had went off in my brain, coming down here this summer. Everything I knew becoming wrong. Everything I was so sure of becoming the unknown.

I thought I knew everything, but I knew nothing. I was wrong about everything.

The way Jeremiah’s eyes carried a special sparkle as my sister and brother piled out of the car in front of me. His lips curled into that same pearly white smile and his eyes crinkling in the corners like always. His wrinkles a permanent tattoo of his life and his happiness that he carried with him.

I knew Belly was pretty. She always had been. I’d been the one to express that to her. Being her older sister, even by only a couple years, I could see it far before anyone else could. I could see how gorgeous my little sister was with her long brown hair and her contagious laughter. She would grow into herself, I promised her that and I couldn’t have been happier watching as she found that new confidence in her appearance the older she grew.

Still, the joy I felt for her could not overpower the sting that settled in my chest the moment I realized that Jeremiah’s warm welcome was not directed towards me like all the years before. His eyes drawn to Belly. The newer, prettier Conklin. The youngest, the most at ease with her surroundings. The one who took everything with a grain of salt.

And suddenly it made sense. If I was the stars in his eyes, then Belly was the sun. The bigger, brighter star. How could this boyish ray of sunshine fall for the more mellow sister when he had his perfect reflection right in front of him?

Realizing that was what caused the downward spiral, I think. That was the turning point and suddenly the switch went off.

I wasn’t ugly, I knew that. I once had a few boyfriends back home, all of which took great interest in me, but all of which never stuck. And it was obvious as to why. My head knew it would be good to try something new, but my heart was suffocating in the love I had felt for Jeremiah. I couldn’t love someone else if my heart belonged to another.

Only, Jeremiah’s heart belonged to Belly. It was obvious. The way they laughed. The way they talked. The way they touched. I wanted him to touch me like that. I wanted his arm slung around my shoulders and I wanted his hand resting on my thigh. I wanted him to whisper his secrets into my ears again. I wanted all of it, while Belly treated it like a chore.

Like she was bored by the constant affection and the strong attraction they had for one another. Yet, even with the heaviness in my heart, and the bitterness at the tip of my tongue, I wasn’t the one he was holding down on the beach. And that could never be me. I was the sister standing in my room back at the summer home, a bikini tied around my chest as a top, jean shorts hanging low on my hips while her fingers pulled at the skin on her stomach and pushed against her stomach to make it impossibly flatter.

A routine I’d developed since the beginning of summer. Sleeping in later, staying up longer. Skipping meals by accident and curling up as small as I could while everyone else ate dinner. It was almost as if I didn’t exist. And maybe I didn’t because it seemed like nobody cared.

That was my greatest fear. What started as a minor jealousy and a spiral of undiscovered insecurities morphed into a pool of fear. Not for how I looked, but for who I was. Now that everyone was growing up, now that Conrad and I were going off to college, would anyone still need me? Belly was confident now, she didn’t need my pep talks. My mom had her best friend and Jeremiah had Belly. Nobody needed me. Nobody cared.

Knock, knock.

Or I thought nobody cared.

“Hey, Conklin?” The voice was quiet, afraid to pierce the peacefulness of the silence.

My hands slipped away from my body, my posture straightening and my eyes making friends with the ground.

“Oh, hey. Aren’t you supposed to be at that bonfire with the others?” I didn’t make a point to turn around, staying stuck in place. “I didn’t want to be there.” He confessed.

“Oh.” His eyes caught mine in the mirror. Body leaning against the doorframe and hands playing with his tied hoodie strings.

“Besides, it’s boring without you there, you know? Don’t really enjoy being there without my beer pong partner.” We laughed, my eyes averting his quickly while it died down back to a comfortable silence.

Footsteps treaded across the furnished wood floors, socks padding carefully, closer.

“Hey.” The call was gentle and not in the slightest bit pushy or pressured.

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly naked with Conrad so close. My arms came to wrap around my torso like a blanket to shield my most vulnerable parts of myself.

“Hey, no. Come one y/n. Don’t do that. Don’t hide.” His hands found mine, covering them in his warmth, pulling away at each finger that dug into my skin slowly. Pulling off that divider I’d placed between us.

His head found my shoulder. His chin tucked comfortably on top of my shoulder blade, his arms hugging around my body, loosely, but enough to relay that he was there. He was close.

“What’s going on with you?” I felt his eyes looking at me, even from the floor. I shook my head.

“Nothing.” I lied through my teeth.

“I know you better than that, Y/n. You’re my best friend.” I nodded, feeling the tears piling on my waterline until everything was a watercolor version of itself.

“You avoid everyone but the moms and me. You don’t surf in the mornings anymore. You skip dinner to go be by yourself some more. You’re dropping weight scarcely quick. This isn’t like you. Something’s bugging you. Why can’t you just let me in?” My response wasn’t something I planned. His confession something I wasn’t prepared for. The low gravel of the mumbles. So quiet and normal that it was like he never even said it. But I knew he had because there he was, looking over my shoulder to watch me through the mirror. Admiring each part of what I had to offer like it was gold. How could I have been so blind to how much Conrad cared? How his touches lingered longer than before, how he cared for me like Jeremiah once did.

A sob wracked through my body, lips parting and chest heaving as I crumbled beneath his touch. My hands grasped onto his arms, clawing at him in panic. Trying to hold onto him. He let me hold onto him.

He lowered us slowly to the ground, his breath fanning off of my face and his body giving mine a home as I curled up impossibly close to him. Still it wasn’t enough. I needed to be closer, to not be alone. To not feel like the world was constantly out of reach.

It was beyond Jeremiah and Belly. It always had been. It had only been my wake up call to how quickly things were moving and how soon I would be unimportant. How soon I would be alone.

Conrad didn’t try to shush me, or talk to me. It was like a silent conversation, confirming all his suspicions. He always knew me better than myself. He always knew there was something wrong deep down. He always saw right through me.

I saw right through me.

It was hard to tell when the tears stopped and turned into dried out cries muffled into the collar of his shirt. Who knows how long ago I became dehydrated. But Conrad stayed put, sitting with me silently until my last cry came out in a soft sniffle.

Lifting my head, I looked to him, a mess. And I saw he was crying too. His eyes were just as wet as mine and his cheeks streaked with past tears. His lip didn’t quiver like mine, but Conrad was always better at holding it together.

So, he didn’t sob like me. No, instead of breaking down like I had when our eyes met, he pulled me in. And he didn’t let me go no matter how hard I squirmed. It was like he breathed me in. And suddenly, in the moment of silence, I heard a whisper against my hair. Only a short sentence, but one that meant everything. One that made me feel less alone as I realized Conrad felt the same way.

“Help me hold onto you.” He begged.

And suddenly, everything I was insecure of, everything that I had let slip, seemed unimportant compared to the boy on his knees for me.