#youre like maybe i should pay a bit more for shampoo

[lover-of-mine]

Drop your hair treatment!! Please and thank you!!

Baby, I'm Brazilian, so I use this Brazilian brand, called bio extratus and it's quite pricy here, so I have no idea how that would even work internationally, but I use this professional line that has shampoo, conditioner, leave in and a treatment mask. It's a protein boost line meant for weakened hair. The main ingredients for them are keratin and pepper which sound weird, but this legit SAVED my hair because I melted it with bleach back in 2021 and that forced me to cut it chin length a few times (rip my bad extension era), and now my hair is a significant length in comparison, with no more breakage layering lol, half of it is still bleached and legit that thing is a miracle worker. But I do the shampoo, conditioner and leave in every time I wash my hair, right now is every other day because my hair is really oily, and the mask every Saturday, the mask is protein boost and you could just do it once every 2 weeks but since I'm dealing with bleached hair, I rather do it weekly. I use a grape seed oil every time I need to put my hair up, honestly just because it's lightweight enough to not weight it down, and I got traumatized back when my hair was snapping every time I did anything with it but I used to use coconut oil and had the same effect. I also use rosemary water on the roots every day. I don't know if that thing is a placebo or not with the growth thing but legit that thing changed my routine because it takes longer for my hair to start looking greasy and that alone is a win, but you need to keep it in the fridge or else it will go bad. I also cut off most of the heat use, mostly because I did melt my hair and it is pin straight anyway but also because I broke my straightener and never bought a new one lol. Also satin pillowcases. That was a game changer for me. Something else I used to do when my hair was shorter and I was trying to keep as much of it as I could in my head was drenching it in whatever hair oil I had at the time, braid it, go to sleep, wash my hair in the morning. That was great when my hair was feeling dry or even a little bit more elastic. I also do an acid wash every time I bleach my roots, that one is just 1 part apple vinegar 3 parts filtered water and drench my hair in it. You'll have to blowdry it after or else you will smell like vinegar but it's great to not get that rough post bleach feel on your hair. Honestly, it took me most of last year to work the products out, but I'm happy with the results I have now. Oh, and heat protectant every time I do use heat.

[reidswhre]

on your shoulder; spencer reid x fem!reader

sumamary: based on the episode of "the office" where pam falls asleep on jim's shoulder!

warnings: pure fluff!! early seasons spencer!

a/n: just a lil reminder that my request are open! you can go and send me some 🫶🏼 also english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.

You loved Aaron Hotchner, no doubt he was an amazing boss, and you had no complaints about him. The problem started when he organized those... little meetings, which, well, could be kind of boring.

And honestly, you hadn’t been sleeping well these last few days either. There was a lot of paperwork left from the cases that had to be dealt with immediately, which didn’t really help your sleep schedule.

Right now, Hotch was giving a talk about... hmm, you weren’t sure. Maybe about victimology or something like that, but you were way too tired to pay attention.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice came from your left, it was Spencer sitting beside you.

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course,” you yawned. “I just haven’t slept well.”

“I figured. You should try to get some rest, not sleeping decreases your attention, concentration, and memory. Plus, it lowers your work performance. It can even cause anxiety or depression,” Reid explained.

Your eyes opened wide. “What?! Depression?! Spencer, no way. I’ve just stayed up late a few nights, I’m fine.” You chuckled and leaned back in your chair, almost looking like you were going to fall out of it.

“It’s okay,” he said, watching you.

He used to take his time watching you, not in a creepy way, at least he hoped not. It was more like you sparked his curiosity, he thought you were really pretty.

He saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, which you were definitely losing. Your eyes were closing, your lashes falling down, and your cheeks had a lovely blush to them that you probably added this morning. You looked beautiful.

Spencer felt your head drop onto his shoulder, and he immediately tensed up. The scent of your shampoo hit his nose, it smelled fresh and sweet, just like you.

He relaxed a little, letting you rest for the remaining part of Hotch’s magnificent meeting.

You opened your eyes after a while, feeling a bit lost. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” You lifted your head when you realized it had been resting on Spencer.

“Don’t worry about it, it didn’t bother me.” He gave you a small smile, the kind where he kept his lips closed.

You looked around and realized no one else was in the room except for the two of you. “Where is everyone?” you asked Spencer, confused.

“They, uh... well, they left,” he said, looking away. “The meeting ended.”

You gasped in surprise. “What? How long ago?”

“Not long... maybe half an hour,” he said, finally looking at you.

“Half an hour?! Spencer, why didn’t you wake me up?” You could feel the embarrassment filling every inch of your body. You had been asleep on him for more than half an hour?!

“I... well, you—” He stumbled over his words. “You looked comfortable and... you needed the rest, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? I was bothering you! I’m so sorry, seriously.” You were too embarrassed to think straight.

“What? No, no, really, it wasn’t a bother at all, never would be.” He gave you a sincere look.

You smiled at this; he was always pretty sweet with you. “Thanks, really.”

He gave you a small smile in response.

“So...” You glanced around the empty room. “What did I miss?”

“You should’ve paid attention,” Spencer teased.

“Very funny, huh?” You rolled your eyes.

Spencer looked at you, and honestly, he loved the idea of having you this close all the time.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Petting Their Hair

Lucifer

"I am only going to say this once: stop."

You get one warning. One. If you do not cease and desist, he is throwing you out of his study, so help him Diavolo's Dad. No, he does not like it. No, not even a little bit. You really aren't going to stop? You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?

....You're very lucky he's too busy to hurl you bodily from this room. He'll just endure it for now.

Mammon

"Hah?! What's the big idea?! This is the revered hair of THE Great Mammon, I'll have you know. So that'll be 100 Grimm a touch, thanks! ....Hey, no, wait, why'd you stop?"

Once he's done turning bright red and clearing his throat, he'll try to capitalize on this whim of yours by offering you a discount on hair touches. A very poorly-planned scheme, because you're not going to pay to do something he'll start begging you to keep up as soon as you stop.

Oh, so Mammon is willing to let you touch his high-value hair for free? You're so honored. What a good boy you are, Mammon. (You can expect a bit more sputtering and some denials that he is anything like a good boy, but bro's into it big time. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.)

Leviathan

*shrieks in confused, touch-starved otaku*

Wait, no, he didn't say to stop! What's with these mixed signals? Petting his hair then stopping just because he shrieks a little bit? Did you want to touch his hair or not? Is it greasy? Oh god, when did he last bathe? ...It was only the other day. You have no reason to be disgusted. You're just a bigoted normie who assumes all otaku are crusty and gross!

Ahhhh?!?!?!?! Again?! Fine! Just don't change your mind again, because that's super confusing! And yeah, obviously he's blushing, you're petting his head and it feels nice and kind of tickles! ....Mm.... You know, once he's settled into it, it's really relaxing, actually...

Fast forward an hour or two and he's probably conked out with his head in your lap, drunk on affection and mostly asleep.

Satan

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

It feels weird. Why are you doing that? Wait, you're petting him? Like he's....a cat? Hmm. Interesting. He'll allow it. But you should do it properly. None of this mussing his hair around with wild abandon. You have to be gentle and use small movements. Maybe use your knuckles? Gently though. There, that's it.

So this is what it feels like. Admittedly, he probably wouldn't take kindly to this if anybody else was doing it, no matter how well they imitated proper cat-petting technique. But you're a special exception, so in the future, if you feel the need to do this, just let him know. And for the love of all things unholy, don't breathe a word about this to his brothers.

Asmodeus

"Oh, you like my hair? Isn't it soft? I'll show you the conditioner I use."

Asmo loves having his hair played with! Or brushed, or combed, or tugged (just not too hard, please!) His hair is silky smooth thanks to a mixture of his natural good looks and his shampoo/conditioner combination. He'll let you borrow them if you're interested. Your hair will look amazing! And it'll feel even better!

This is cozy. He'll just settle in and let you do this as long as you want. Careful you don't get too handsy; he knows how irresistible he is.

...Well, maybe if you're a little handsy he'll let it slide, but just because it's you.

Beelzebub

"Are you....petting me?"

Kind of weird, but it feels nice, so he isn't complaining. It's a little bit embarrassing, just because it makes him feel a little bit like a puppy, but then again, who doesn't like puppies? He'll be able to continue to go about his day not minding you petting his hair now and again. The only awkward part is how damn tall he is. You might need to keep a step stool handy.

Belphegor

"Nnngh, knock it off...! ... ... ...I changed my mind, do it again."

His initial reaction to being woken up to you stroking his head is annoyance, because dammit, he was sleeping. But once he shakes the cobwebs out of his brain, he'll realize that it actually felt really good and he could absolutely fall asleep under these circumstances.

He'll wait a little while, hoping you'll give it another try of your own accord, but if you don't, he'll eventually cave and grumpily ask you to do it again.

Diavolo

"Hahaha... That's enough, now."

He isn't actually a fan. Maybe it's the fact that he's a prince and has been acting as an autocrat more or less for centuries, but being stroked like an adored pet feels really degrading. Of course, he won't hold it against you, but seriously, stop.

Barbatos

"Are you finished playing around quite yet?"

Another one who isn't into this at all. He's more than happy to spend his free time petting you, if that's what you're interested in, but he is a petter, not a pettee. Read into this what you will.

Solomon

"You're so forward!"

Solomon likes it very much. Too much, possibly. Are you flirting with him? There's something incredibly intimate about touching someone's hair, don't you think? No, please, continue.

Simeon

"Um, what are you doing? ...As long as you're enjoying yourself, I guess!"

Simeon is more bewildered by this than most. Like, are you trying to scratch an itch for him? Is this one of those "viral memes" he's heard so much about? Well, it feels nice, and it isn't as if it's hurting anybody. He'll indulge you for now.

A little to your left, please. Ahhhh, that's the spot...

Luke

"Hehe, that tickles... Hey! Is this a Chihuahua joke?!"

It feels kind of nice, but as soon as he takes a second to think about it, he realizes that you're treating him at best like a little kid, and at worst, like a dog, and he isn't having any of that. He'll scold you for treating a Celestial being so casually, remind you that he's actually a lot older than you, technically, so who's the real baby, and secretly pine for more pets for the rest of his life.

[pupkashi]

love comes easy when it’s gojo

a/n: what are you guys talking about chapter 236 ? the manga ended a while ago lol they’re all happy and safe ! don’t be silly guys >.< (I’m deep in denial no one hmu)

wordcount: 728

masterlist

loving satoru gojo was easy.

it was easy falling in love with him when you first began talking to him, stolen glances and flushed faces when either of you caught the other.

it came to you like second nature to play along with his jokes. your minds practically syncing up the second your eyes connected, silly grins on your faces as you both cracked dumb jokes.

there was something almost instinctive that had you intertwining your fingers with his, the tv on the show now background noise as satoru practically lay on top of you.

“what should we get for dinner?” you mumbled, half paying attention to the action on the screen, eyes landing on the mop of white hair in your lap.

satoru hummed, adjusting himself so that he was on his back and staring up at you, “want me to cook?” there was a smile playing on his lips as you pursed your lips at him.

“depends” you smile, “what is chef gojo gonna cook up for us tonight?” the smile on his face was evident now as he sat upright.

“maybe some instant ramen?” eyes glimmering as he speaks up again, “im feeling a bit fancy so how ‘bout i add an egg in there too.”

“an egg? you spoil me satoru,” you tease, watching as satoru pushes himself off the couch, stretching a bit. the bottom of his shirt lifts a bit and you catch his lower belly, smiling to yourself.

“oh but when you bend over i can’t whistle at you?” he pouts, catching the way you were practically giggling.

“satoru we were in a meeting with the higher ups,” you retort. the sorcerer only scoffs, mumbling something and heading into the kitchen.

it was easy to love satoru when he was carrying you out in the pouring rain, a cheesy love song blaring through his phone speakers in his pocket.

“dance with me!” his dimples peeking out and his eyes crinkling a bit as he laughed at your now soaked shirt.

you want to be angry, you want to scold him because he just got over the flu and this is gonna be terrible for him. but the small droplets of water collecting at the end of his white hair and sticking messily to his forehead make you keep your mouth shut.

you don’t say anything as you extend your arm out, giggling when he quickly pulls you into him by the waist, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, teeth hitting each other as the two of you burst into giggles.

“cyndi lauper is your go to?” you laugh, barely audible over the downpour surrounding the two of you.

“it was either her or whitney houston ” he smiles, turning his infinity on when he sees you shiver in the slightest, being sure to include you in it.

it was easy loving satoru gojo when he was shampooing your hair, kissing your shoulder and wrapping warm towels around you.

it was easy to fall deeper in love with him when the two of you are in bed, sweet nothings being interchanged between the two of you.

“i love you, angel boy,” you whisper, loving the way his cheeks grew pink, the grin on his lips growing as he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

“i love you more, sweets” his voice is softer, more vulnerable, than usual. there’s nothing on his mind except you, and there’s nothing on yours except him.

it’s when the two of you are making breakfast together, movements flowing easily as he passes you the eggs and he plates the pancakes. when you’re both sitting way too close to each other on the huge couch in the living room, pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you.

when you hand each other things without even uttering a word. when you sit in rare silence with your lover, the comfort of each others presence being enough for the two of you.

when he’s bringing home flowers or you’re making him his favorite foods, when you’re blushing at his shower of compliments and he’s running away the second you call him handsome.

it’s in between laundry loads and making plans that you both realize how easy love comes to each other.

loving satoru gojo was easy, especially when you fell in love with him all over everyday.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[moonstruckme]

if your not taking requests feel free to ignore me

could u do camp counselor james! where he and reader reunite next summer at the start of a new camp session?

I am lovely, don't worry! Thank you for requesting :)

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 884 words

It’s early May, and the sun is still pleasant. After last year, you know to relish the first few cool nights in the cabin, before the summer heat sets in and you become dependent on tiny handheld fans and those popsicles from the canteen. For now you’re enjoying it, the wooden boards of the dock warm under your thighs and your head tilted up to the sun as your toes kiss the cool water. 

The air smells like pine and fresh water. In a few days, all you’ll be able to hear are kids screaming exuberantly, splashing around in the water and small feet pounding on the dirt, but now it’s just the sloshing of the waves against the shore, the steady thunk of the canoe someone’s already gotten out hitting the dock. It’s peaceful. Meditative. And maybe it’s because you’re so focussed on that that you don’t hear James’ car pull into the gravel parking lot, or his friends bickering about who has to carry what inside, or really much of anything until there’s a set of footsteps approaching from behind you, and you turn around. 

“James!” You’re every inch the girlfriend in a movie, embarrassingly so, but you’re too excited to second-guess yourself as you get your feet under you and run to meet him. 

“Hey,” James laughs, stopping a second before you do to brace for impact. He grabs you under your legs and hoists them up around his waist, grinning hugely as he pecks you on the lips. “Hey, careful, no bare feet on the grass, remember?” 

You roll your eyes. You’re not supposed to let the kids run around without their shoes in case there’s some broken glass or something, but there never is. “You just wanted to pick me up,” you say. 

James’ smile widens. “Yeah, you got me.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck as he crushes you to his front, both of you gripping the other like you’re expecting to be torn apart. He can’t have been here more than half an hour, but James already smells like camp, sunscreen and something woodsy mingling with the smell of his shampoo. 

“I missed you,” you admit, turning your lips into the side of his head. 

James hugs you impossibly tighter. “I’m so glad you get it, angel. I was telling Sirius about how much I missed you on the way here, and he was being very unsympathetic about it. Deeply coldhearted, really—” 

“Fuck off,” says Sirius, and you look over James’ shoulder to see him and Remus approaching. “You saw each other last weekend!” 

“God, don’t remind me!” James lets you go just enough to smush his lips to yours. “Far too long. Cruel, unusual treatment.” 

Sirius humphs. “And yet you were apart from us for three months last summer, and I didn’t hear nearly so much of bereavement.” 

You smile and pat your boyfriend’s shoulder, a silent request for him to put you down. 

“Trust me,” you say, going over to hug Sirius, “the rest of us did. He was waxing poetic about you all summer. I think the kids were a bit worried.” 

“Yes, well.” Sirius cracks, grinning as he kisses you on the cheek. “As he should.” 

“Hi, lovely.” Remus looks thoroughly worn out from the long drive—or more likely, from his friends’ bickering the whole way—but he scrubs a fond hand up and down your back as you squeeze him around the middle. 

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you say, beaming as you peel away from him. James immediately pulls you back against his front, his arms twined loosely around your waist. 

“We couldn’t very well leave him to wax poetic all summer again.” Remus smiles, and Sirius nods fervently. 

“You should have seen him, babe,” he says. “He was having a proper crisis over it. Now I’ve got to spend my whole summer doing charity work just to keep him from being torn apart.” 

“They do pay us,” James reminds him. 

Sirius waves him off. “For those wages? It’s charity work.” 

You lean your head back on James’ shoulder, sinking into his hold. You do have some inkling of the crisis Sirius is talking about; when your boss at camp had called him a couple of months ago and he’d been faced with either not seeing you for the three months you’d be here or going with you and not seeing his friends like he did last year, he’d put her off for weeks before deciding. In the end, Remus hadn’t been difficult at all to convince. He’s always wanted to work with kids, but James had to pitch the idea of being an art instructor to Sirius relentlessly before he’d finally agreed. 

You loved getting to know James last summer, and getting to see him in his element when you went to visit him on weekends throughout the year, but you suspect that now, with all his favorite people in one place for the entire summer, you’ll get to witness the happiest version of him you’ve seen yet. 

“The kids don’t get here until Thursday,” you say. “Want to see if we can have a bonfire tonight?” 

James chuckles. He leans over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, his smile unmissable against your skin. “Those are always fun.” 

[all444miles]

Hiii, I just saw that you were doing requests so I was wondering if you could do e-42 miles with black readers hair? Like helping her pick out different braiding and natural styles, maybe some wash day headcanons as well?

— TOUCH MY HAIR

— pairing: e-42 miles x fem!black!reader — genre: fluff — summary: just miles loving you and your hair ‹3 — a/n: tyyyy for this req, i am squealing rn + i alr had this idea in my prompt list but u gave me a reason to start it !! ‹3 my hcs always got miles saying sum outta pocket then the reader calls him out then he goes “my fault”, its a lil funny motif ima keep on adding 😭 also the n word is used a bit in this, js sayin!! enjoy ♡ ᖭི(ˊᗜˋ*)ᖫྀ

we all know n we've established this, miles is more than happy to pay for ur shit, esp if its your hair.

he wouldn't think twice before sending you the money for you to get your hair done. he wont listen or care if you say no, either.

"miles, bae, why u sendin me 200?" "what else? so you can get your hair done, mami." "baby, you know damn well that's too much." "buy yourself some other stuff too, if you wanna, but that money yours now, i ain't takin it back." "you.. you do too much." "mhm, make sure to show me a pic of when you get it done, you heard?"

he's always your hype man, for sure.

i got a feeling he a major fan of faux locs or boho/godess braids, so if you got that on? he'll fold.

"dayum ma, that shit looks good." "i cant even lie, Aaliyah did real good on this. she sure was tryna make me go broke though.." "worth every cent, cuz you look fine as hell with them faux locs." "miles." "im just saying, mami, your hair, like.. lord have mercy." "miles!" "my fault, i ain't lying though."

when your hair’s all natural, he loves to watching you style your hair for school, events, etc.

one time you let him style your hair, and you couldn’t even lie, it actually looked pretty good.

“these edges.. how do y'all do this shit every day?” “miles, baby, it ain’t that hard. look, lemme show you.”

you had to show him a quick tiktok tut on how to do edges, took him 2 videos before he got it 😭

“see that? like a c shape, and swoop it.” “..like this?” “yeah! you gotta do that like, 4 more times though.” “ay, dios mio. (oh my God). Mama, i ain’t doing allat.”

and wash day? his absolute favorite.

(short drabble ahead!)

Good Days by SZA played from Miles' speaker, blasting in the background, the gentle splashes of the warm water from the shower onto your curls.

You relaxed, your head leaning back further into the bathtub, your lover grabbing your scalp massager and rubbing it into your scalp carefully, shampoo mixed in, the rest of your products on the end corner of your bathtub.

"Ma, you know you really needed this wash. Your hair was tangled as shit, like a lion or sum.” he says, laughing halfway through his sentence. You scoff at him jokingly, "Miles, when you have hair as long and thick as mine, you can violate my hair."

Miles protested, adding the conditioner to your hair, setting your scalp massager aside. "Baby, my hair is basically almost as long as yours."

"Yeah, almost." you spoke, putting your fingers up to his face in pinching motion, the gems on your acrylics just an inch close to touching his nose, a grin on your face. He backed up, pushing your hands out of his face, continuing your wash routine. "Princesa, lemme finish washing yo hair without your hands all up in my face."

About 3 and a half hours later, your hair was washed and in overnight twists with your bonnet on. You laid with Miles in your bed, legs on top of each others, tired.

"Y'know, you actually good at dealin' wit my hair." you spoke, giving Miles a kiss on his forehead. “When you got a mama like mine, you pretty much have to.” Miles chuckled, shaking his head. “You should let me do it more often.” You smiled in response.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off by the way you'd play with the silk of his durag. "I love you Miles."

He mumbled words once again into your neck, half asleep, but you knew what he said.

"I love you more, mi vida."

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[deputyrook]

The Assistant - Lou Bloom x Reader. Horrror/Romance

This is an old fic re-upload. I'm just going to post all four parts in one. Anyway, this is one of the few old fics I'm still quite proud of, so please enjoy (or enjoy again!)

Lou Bloom (Nightcrawler) x female reader (she/her).

WORD COUNT: 11,258

Warnings: Stalking, voyeurism, gaslighting, coercion, emotional manipulation, creepy behaviour.

“This is a very exciting opportunity. One that you’re not going to want to pass up. Now, I don’t know that you’re ready to take on this role, but I believe that when you give someone responsibility, they have the opportunity to rise to the occasion and excel. I believe that you have that ability. Which is why I am taking a chance on you, and promoting you to the role of my personal assistant.”

Lou watches your expression with the intensity of a vulture watching its next meal. He wants to see how you react to the offer. You’ve only been his intern for two and a half weeks, but he knows that one way or another, you’ll agree to the change in position. 

He’ll make sure of it, because he has different plans for you now.

Your head tilts curiously, but you smile at him, close-lipped and cautious.

“It’s an honour,” you reply, and he can feel himself nodding in agreement with you.

You smell differently from Nina, but he likes it. Nina wears perfume, and sometimes a bit too much of it. Your scent is of clean skin and strawberry scented shampoo, light and natural. 

Nina still sleeps with Lou, but she doesn’t comply easily. She disobeys him, and rolls her eyes when he gives her instructions in bed. She is a beautiful woman- particularly in how sharp she is, how vicious in her work- but he can’t control her, and what they have isn’t a relationship, not really, not like it should be.

You’re different. You’re careful and quiet and you take notes when he speaks to you. You listen to him, and you follow orders well and without fuss. You don’t seem to mind doing what he instructs you to, even when he tells you to drive faster, or do things other interns might find... questionable.

And you’re young, and you’re pretty. 

When he realizes that he wants to have you, Lou does two things. First, he breaks up with Nina.

“Are you fucking with me?” Nina asks him, her eyes narrowing. They’re sitting at dinner, and it’s so similar a situation to when Lou first proposed a sexual relationship with her.

“The simple truth is that I have outgrown this relationship. In this world people’s needs change. I have more needs now, ones which you are not capable of meeting. As such, I am terminating our relationship immediately.” Lou takes a sip of his water.

Nina’s lips purse, as though she thinks it’s a trick. Lou can imagine the way the gears are turning in her mind.

“But you’ll continue to work with me on a professional basis... right?” She confirms apprehensively. “You’re our leading stringer, your work is-”

“Artistry. I’m aware,” She looks unsure, and Lou likes that. It will be a shame, not having her around when he wants her anymore, but he doubts he’ll ultimately miss it much. “As long as you continue to pay me at the rate you currently are. I know that KWLA 6 is now the most popular news network on morning television and I also know that the name of my business is starting to become known. Now, I’ll keep supplying you with the footage, but you should understand that I have no loyalty to your company, or to you personally.”

Nina’s expression settles into a frown. “You’re breaking off our- so that you don’t feel any guilt about just selling to the highest bidder?”

Sometimes, Lou thinks that maybe Nina comes close to understanding him. This is not one of those times.

“No,” He answers, with a chuckle to himself, “But I don’t need to sleep with you anymore, and I won’t have our arrangement limiting my or my company’s potential for growth.”

The second thing Lou does is install cameras in your apartment when he knows that you’re not home.

He has your address from the paperwork he made you and the other two interns fill out when you first started working for him, but he’s never been to your apartment before. A quick message sent to you asking you to pick up his dry cleaning, conveniently across the city from your place, and he has you out of the way.

Lou breaks into your home with ease. The main door to the building is unlocked, and with a twist of his lockpick and a satisfying click, so is the door to your apartment. Bag slung over his shoulder, he slips into the place, careful to shut the door quietly behind him. Turning on the light, he looks around the room with an intrusive interest.

The place is small, just as small as his old place had been, before he’d moved. It’s neatly decorated, and it smells like you, and Lou digs his nails into the palm of his hand as he scans the main room. You have a bookshelf- he quickly notes your favourite author- and several small plants, but the apartment is scarcely decorated and plain. No photos of a boyfriend, he notes. Good, that would just be another obstacle to remove. It’s tempting to leave you a message using your fridge magnets, but Lou resists the urge and continues in.

A cat trods out from the bedroom, meowing at Lou. For a moment he freezes, staring at the animal, standing still as it brushes happily against his shin with a purr. He hesitates. Reaching down, Lou slowly brushes his fingers against the cat’s head, before withdrawing his hand and stepping delicately around the pet.

As much as he’d like to stay and search through your belongings, he has a job to do.

He’s leaving the apartment when he gets a text from you letting him know that you’ve picked up his clothes, and want to know where to drop them off. Checking his watch, Lou sends you a reply with his address before he gets into his car and drives home.

Lou is creating a file in his mind and filling it with notes about you. She has a cat. She likes to read. She has quite a few DVDs, with many of them being horror movies. It all factors into the way he’ll achieve his goal of luring you in, and Lou intends to do it the right way.

---

“Hi there,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s past nine PM now, and even though it’s certainly after hours, Lou knew you wouldn’t complain. And here you are, standing on his doorstep, holding his dry cleaning in hand. You’re even wearing a bit of makeup, he notices.

You must be as lonely as he is. 

“Hello,” He replies, “I’m glad you’re taking this aspect of being my personal assistant in stride. In order to get ahead as a new employee, it’s important to go above and beyond the duties of the position.”

You nod, shifting from one foot to the other. Lou smiles.

“Would you like to come in?” He asks, and you hesitate. Lou waits, staring, until you acquiesce with another nod.

“Okay, maybe just for a few minutes. Then I should really get home.”

He takes the dry cleaning from you and leads you inside of his apartment, a nice one-bedroom he’d recently moved into where he has a larger television and marble countertops and more space for him to review footage. Besides the computer desk, and the place where his camcorder is hooked up, the apartment is filled with empty space. 

Not much makes Lou’s heart quicken, but his mouth goes dry at the sight of you, alone in his apartment. He controls this space, possesses it, and here you are, a part of it- just as it should be. Lou feels a pleasant stir in his stomach at the way you glance around the room with your eyes wide. 

He considers, for a moment, pushing you against the wall and pinning you there, to see how you’d react. He wonders idly if you’d scream, before he turns and hangs up the dry cleaning in the closet.

“Wow, this place is- it’s so like you,” You say, looking back to him. “It’s nice. No pets?”

“No,” He answers plainly, staring at you, “Not yet.”

It’s easy to imagine how you’ll slot into his life. He’s already picturing where in his apartment he’ll put your bookshelf.

“We should spend more time together,” He says to you, standing in his living room and facing you. “Outside of work. I’d like to see you here more often.”

“Oh,” you reply. Your eyes glance at him, and then the door, darting nervously. “You would?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” Lou answers, taking a step closer to you. “I have wine. Red and white, for if I have company over. But you prefer red, don’t you? I can get you a glass.” 

You shake your head then, making for the door. “Um, I... really should really be going. It’s getting late, and I drove here, so I can’t be drinking anyway.”

Lou pauses, looking at you for a very long moment. Then, he nods his head one, a knowing smile breaking across his face.

“Of course. Smart. It’s dangerous out there, you know. You’re a pretty young woman. And there are a lot of terrible men out there who might take advantage of that. You should get home.” He never takes his eyes off of you, not as he watches you smile softly, wave goodbye awkwardly, and scamper back out of the door.

The second you leave, Lou goes to his computer.

It takes about twenty minutes before the camera feed shows you enter your apartment. He set up two cameras, one in your living room, and one in your bedroom. He doesn’t need to spy on you in the bathroom or shower- that’s not the point of this invasion.

You throw your coat on the hanger and your purse on the counter, and you pick up your cat and spin him around in your arms- it’s adorable. Lou watches, rapt in attention as you set the cat down and roll your shoulders. He can see you sigh, even though the feed is silent, and you look tired.

He watches as you strip off your clothes, performing for no one as you root around for clean pajamas. Lou didn’t set up the cameras for sexual gratification- he wants to know exactly what you like, and see who you are when you think you’re alone- but it’s hard to deny that he feels pleasure knowing that he’s with you even when you don’t know it.

It’s hard to deny that there’s a thrill to the knowledge that he’s going to take everything that’s yours and make it his. Just like everything else, all it will take is some planning, a meticulous execution, and the will to make it happen.

And it would.

---

---

The first gift that Lou buys for you is a new coffee maker.

The one you have, he’s noticed, is horribly outdated and slow to brew. Through the cameras he’s watched you look longingly at new models on Amazon, always browsing, never purchasing. You’ve saved at least five to your wishlist, but you always exit out of the pages without placing an order. After studying the footage, Lou comes to the conclusion that you can’t decide which one to buy.

So he decides for you. Lou purchases an expensive model, a coffee maker even better than the ones you’ve been dreaming of, and has it express delivered to your door.

Lou is so glad when you don’t open the package outside, but instead carry it into your living room with a confused look on your face. Your mouth is twisted into a near pout, and your brow furrows as you turn over the box. When you grab a knife and open it up, Lou can’t help but smile at the shock that registers on your face at its contents. 

You pull apart the box like it’s Christmas, gingerly taking out the new coffee maker and setting it on the counter. You stare at it for a long moment, incredulous, before noticing the note, just a thin slip of paper at the bottom of the box.

He can’t read it from the camera feed streaming from your apartment, but Lou knows what it says. 

“Make the choices you want, and pursue them. LB.”

With Nina, everything he needed to know about her he could find online. With you, he needs to improvise, and pay attention. He’d googled you, of course, with few results besides an Instagram and Linkedin page. It’s only been a few days since he installed the cameras, but he’s already felt like he’s learned so much.

Things... hadn’t gone how he’d wanted with Nina. He’d wanted a relationship, someone to share a life with. He’d gotten little more than friends with benefits, and a reluctant one at that. Maybe this time, he would just have to be clearer with what he wanted from you, and be a little bit more patient.

You hold the paper up to your mouth, hiding, and he finds it difficult to read your expression. But maybe it’s just what he wants to see, but he thinks that you look pleased.

---

“Lou... I don’t know what to say about the coffee maker,” You tell him later that night. The two of you are sitting in the front of his car, parked on the side of the street. It’s been a slow night, and the police scanner crackles in the background, every so often announcing a DUI or petty theft. His other employee, Mikhael, sits in the back of the car on his laptop, editing footage, his headphones over his ears.

You’re sitting in the driver’s seat, leaning against the wheel.

“Say thank you,” He replies, smiling at you. You bite your lip, and grin at him. You’ve been using his name a lot more casually since you’ve been promoted, and Lou likes that.

“Fine. Thank you,” you answer. You seem to mull over your next words, the smile dropping from your face in contemplation before you speak. You seem apprehensive to broach the subject, but you continue. “But... how did you know I needed a new coffee maker?”

“You told me. Don’t you remember?” Lou says, feigning confusion and leaning in closer to you. “You told me that you couldn’t decide which one to get.”

Lou can almost see your thought process. He loves the way you consider his words, quietly to yourself, and he can tell that he’s convincing you, even when you know deep down that you never said a thing about it. You’re a clever girl, but so easily swayed.

“I... don’t remember,” You admit to him, so honest. “I was so surprised. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. But I like you.” This is romantic, Lou thinks to himself, like a scene from a film. “And now, whenever you make coffee in the morning, you’ll think of me.” He smiles in a way he thinks is pleasant, and he sees you look him over, half-unsure, half-appreciative. 

“You know,” he continues, “I learned recently that people don’t really become addicted to caffeine. They develop a dependence on it, which isn’t the same thing. Caffeine is only actually slightly addictive as an actual substance. The symptoms of withdrawal are physically very mild, and drinking a lot of coffee rarely results in self-destructive behaviour. Instead, you become used to the presence of caffeine in your life. You come to take it by habit, and because you enjoy the positive benefits, including increased alertness and wakefulness. It’s the mental dependence on caffeine, the reliance on it being there to pick you up that creates the believe that caffeine is addictive.” 

You listen to him, nodding along with his words. He finishes, “The dependence is far more psychological than physical. But it’s interesting. How people develop dependence on things like coffee. How they feel like they need it to even function, day-to-day. How they feel like they can’t live without it.”

You should be leaning in to share his space right about now. Or telling him how you will think of him, every morning when you make coffee. When you bring the mug to your lips and close your eyes, breathing in the smell of it, when you take that first drink and yawn. You should be flushing at the thought of it, but instead, you’re looking at your hands, fidgeting.

“Yeah. That is interesting, I didn’t know that,” You comment, and the silence that follows is thick and awkward, the only sound in the car the dull chatter on the police scanner. In the back, Mikhael clears his throat, and when Lou turns back to address him, his eyes dart from you to Lou. 

“What is it?” Lou asks sharply. Mikhael points to the police scanner, one headphone on. 

“2-6-7, suspect is a white male, approximately 6’2”, may be armed,” The voice on the scanner says. “10-524. Proceed with caution.”

Lou nods to you, and he doesn’t have to say a word. You turn the key in the ignition and his car roars to life. With a shift of the gear and your foot on the gas, you tear off down the street, speeding toward the destination. Lou readies his camera while he calls your coworker, his third and final employee, to come with the production van and meet you at the scene with all of his equipment.

You drive steady, careful as you pull out onto the highway. Lou checks his watch.

“We need to go faster. I doubt we’ll arrive before the police but if there’s a chance, we want to take it. At the very least, I want to see a body tonight.”

You comply, pressing the pedal down and accelerating. Your focus on the task, and your complete willingness to trust him and follow him into a dangerous situation is nearly distracting for him. 

“Faster,” he tells you, even though you’re already going 10 miles over the speed limit. Part of him wants to make it to the location before the police arrive, or certainly earlier than any other news crew. But part of him wants to push you to drive faster, drive more dangerously, just to see if you will.

You barely spare him a glance as you accelerate even faster, switching lanes back and forth to pass cars in your way. In the back seat of the car, Mikhael curses under his breath as you fly past a car that honks loudly.

“We’re going to fast, we’re going to get pulled over-” He says anxiously.

“Not if all the cops are busy going to the same place we are. Left, make the next left,” Lou tells you, and you barely have time to put on your blinker before you’re sliding around the corner. From the back, Mikhael groans. Lou’s camera is ready with blank tape, and he passes the microphone to Mikhael in the back for him to carry out. It’s only another three miles before you reach your destination.

“Are we ready?” Lou asks the two of you. Mikhael nods, and you smile.

When you pull into the street where the home in question is located- a beautiful suburban house in the outskirts of the city- it’s before a cop car has arrived. As you throw the gear into park, you turn to him, beaming, breathless and proud, and he can tell you’re looking to hear you did well.

But now isn’t the time. Lou is already throwing open the door of the car and rushing to the scene, Mikhael close behind him.  You stay behind, to run interference on the cops, who are just rounding the corner of the street. 

He hopes you’ll be able to distract the cop for long enough that he can sneak around the back of the house. 

---

“We did well tonight,” Lou says, looking to each of his three employees in turn. The four of you are together in the small office space he rents, each with a drink in hand. It’s been less than two hours since you arrived at the scene of the assault, and only half an hour since he left victorious, footage of a screaming argument and a bloody stab wound saved safely on the memory card.

Sitting in a circle of cheap folding chairs, he feels pride in himself, in this company of professionals he’s built. You’re quickly rising to be the video company with the most-used footage in all of central LA, and it won’t be long before the names Video Production News and Louis Bloom become famous in the wider news industry. “The footage we got is going to garner us a top spot tomorrow on a prime news network.”

“Which one?” Eve, his equipment manager, asks with an enthused look on her face.

“Whichever one pays the highest,” Lou answers. He points to you. “The two of us will stay late to edit the footage, and submit proposals to the top five news networks with the highest viewer counts. It’s time we started branching out from KWLA-6 and considering other options.”

You nod to him, and he feels the satisfaction of a job well done wash over him. 

“I appreciate the dedication each one of you has to Video Production News. With your continued dedication and willingness to follow my business plan, we will continue to achieve success in the Los Angeles news industry.” 

He always hopes that everyone will stay longer than they do, when the team goes out for drinks. It would help everyone grow closer if they were to spend time together outside of work, but first Mikhael excuses himself, and then Eve follows, both citing pets they need to feed and partners they need to return to. This time, though, you can’t excuse yourself to go home to your cat- you’ve already agreed to stay late and help him.

And when Eve and Mikhael leave, the two of you are alone again, and that suits him fine.

“You look pretty tonight,” He tells you, even though your hair is messy and you’re sweating from the lack of air conditioning in the office. “But you shouldn’t wear bright colours any more. I prefer you in dark ones. They suit you more, and compliment you better.” Lou smiles to you, like he’s shared highly valuable information with you and you should be thankful.

“Oh,” You reply, clearly surprised. You look down at your dress, and when you look back up, he notices that you look a little self conscious.

“Can you try to do that for me?” He asks. You hesitate, and then nod.

“I-I guess I can, yeah,” You say, cheeks colouring. And there’s that blush he’s been hoping to see. Lou remembers, suddenly, the way you’d looked at him on arrival at the scene of the crime, eager for praise.

“You did well tonight. I like that you drive faster when I tell you to,” Lou stares hungrily at the way your cheeks flush deeper. He can’t tell if you’re embarrassed or ashamed or aroused. “That you follow my instructions is one of the reasons I promoted you to my assistant.” He looks at your glass, nearly empty now, and refills it with wine. You take a nervous gulp.

“I used to sleep with the morning news director at KWLA-6,” Lou says, deadpan, and you choke on your drink.

“You did?” You ask, apparently too curious or stunned to keep your thoughts to yourself, “Were you- did she, um-”

“She came often,” Lou lies. “I was led to believe it was very pleasurable for us both. She was very attracted to me.”

“That wasn’t going to be my question, Lou,” you reply, a light laugh in your tone, “I was going to ask if she ended things, or if you did.”

“Oh. I did,” He answers seriously, “I took some time to evaluate my wants and needs, as well as what would be best for my company. I know it was difficult for her, but it was necessary to do.” 

The air between the two of you is tense, heavy with a weight between you and you study him with interest as you ask, “Was it hard for you?”

Lou is thrown for a moment.

“I admired her, and I was looking for certain things when we started seeing each other.” Lou thinks about how honest he wants to be with you. He always finds it difficult to voice aloud his desire for company, or to address his loneliness. “What I’m looking for is someone who can be a partner to me, but also someone who listens to what I tell them. I want a relationship with someone that suits my needs. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” You answer, looking at your glass. You swirl the wine around in it. “I know what it’s like. To really want a relationship to be one thing, and have it end up as another.”

“It wasn’t hard for me. That’s the answer to your question. I want something else now,” He looks at you pointedly, just shy of telling you that he wants you. But he doesn’t have enough information about you yet- doesn’t feel as though he’s in an advantageous enough position to get what he wants.

Lou wants your back to be up against the wall before he makes his intentions abundantly clear. Figuratively, and perhaps literally. It’s difficult for him to avoid being direct with his desires, but being honest wouldn’t be the path to victory, not at this point.

No, he has to court you. Teach you to need him, too. Maybe this could even be considered your first date. 

You’re blushing again, and you look down and away from him, clearing your throat. You set aside your glass of wine, and point to the computer. “We should, ah. We should work on editing. We have a lot to get done tonight if we want to make the morning news.”

Lou checks his watch. It’s a quarter past twelve in the morning.

“You’re right,” He says, and the two of you get to work.

---

The story hits with as much of a splash as Lou expected, and not on KWLA. Channel 11 News breaks the story, airing his footage and mentioning the name Video Production News before they do, and they pay 30% more than KWLA had offered. 

Sitting in his apartment and feeling content, Lou watches your camera feed as he irons his clothes. You’re doing your hair and putting on your makeup in the bathroom, and you choose another light coloured dress to wear- though to be fair to you, you didn’t exactly know that he was watching.

He’s thinking about the effort you put into your appearance when he sees you step up to answer your front door. You look so put together and beautiful today. As though you’re preparing for a date with him, though you would wear black for that, not white. Lou can just imagine how easily he would pull the dress off of you, mess up that perfectly assembled look of yours, the way he’s grab a fistful of your hair and -

Wait. Wait. Who is that stepping in through the door?

A man, tall and fairly handsome, steps into your apartment, and he kisses you. Lou’s blood turns cold at the sight, and he stares, iron hot in his hand.

This is a problem.

---

---

So, here’s the thing.

The guy you’re seeing? He’s no good for you, Lou knows. 

He’s sitting on a park bench with his sunglasses on, watching the people pass by with a detached interest. Lou sips his soda with a straw, keeping an eye out for you and the man you’ll be passing by him with. The afternoon sun is beating down, but the bench he sits on it partially shaded by a tree, and he’s glad for it since he hasn’t moved in about forty-five minutes.

It’s given him time to think, and to plan out his next move. 

When he’d seen the man on the surveillance footage kissing you, Lou slowly set down his iron and unplugged it. He set aside his laundry, and pulled his hair up into a neat bun. Grabbing his laptop, one of his books and his keys, Lou left his apartment without another moment of hesitation or thought.

Lou drove to your neighbourhood, parking two blocks away and walking the rest of the distance to your apartment building. In the back parking lot, there were two cars parked in the visitor’s spots. Taking quick photos of the two license plates, Lou walked to a nearby coffee shop, and, making sure you and the stranger were not also there, set up his laptop to run the plates.

It didn’t take long before Lou was able to find out the name of your mysterious visitor. His name is Andrew Price, and he lives in a city about an hour and a half’s drive away from Los Angeles, which explains why Lou has never seen him before. His employment was listed as a freelance journalist, and scouring the internet for more information, Lou found a profile on a networking website where he listed his relationship status as single.

Not a boyfriend, then. Or he’s a cheater. Both give Lou a bit of hope.

When Lou checked the man’s instagram, he noticed Price had just posted a scenic photo several minutes prior, one that Lou could identify as being from a nearby park. There are no pictures of you on Price’s instagram either, he noticed.

Packing up his laptop, Lou went to sit by the entrance of the park. Now he’s waiting on the bench, a book that he isn’t reading in his hands, as he watches for you and this man to pass him.

A freelance journalist ? And not even a very successful one it looks like, at that. Why would you kiss a man like that? Someone who doesn’t even appreciate you enough to show you off as his to the world, who doesn’t even consider himself to be in a relationship with you? 

Surely, that’s not what you really want. Surely, this man isn’t fulfilling your needs. Lou settles on believing that your loneliness has driven you to this stranger, and that it’s only because no better options had presented themselves. 

But still, Lou doesn’t want to take any chances. He knows that the execution of a meticulous plan is the best path to success, and you’re too important for him to try a simple, straightforward approach. So much could go wrong, so easily.

He needs the upper hand, and he’s slowly starting to figure out how to get it.

In the news industry, framing is everything. It’s easy to make the audience believe whatever story that the network wants to push, or rework an angle to a narrative that sells better. It’s a manipulation, yes, and in some ways, a lie- but it’s a skill, and one Lou has been working on developing. It’s what the audience sees and the way that they see it that informs their views. And those views colour the way every story following is received. 

And it’ll be the same with you.

Lou is in such deep thought about how he’s going to get you into this arms that he doesn’t even notice you until you call out to him.

“Lou? Is that you?” His head shoots up, and he stares, roused from his thoughts and nearly startled, despite the fact that he had been waiting for you. You look at him quizzically, with Price standing at your side, confused.

“Oh. What a surprise,” Lou smiles, and feigns surprise. His smile is nearly real when he thinks about how you called out to him. Chuckling lightly, he continues, “Looks like even on our days off we just can’t stay away from each other.” 

Price’s eyebrows crinkle at Lou’s words, and you beckon him to follow as you approach. You seem genuinely happy to see him, and the sight of it knocks the wind out of Lou.

“Andrew, this is my boss, Louis Bloom. Lou, this is my, ah, friend, Andrew Price. He’s a journalist. You guys might have a lot to talk about.” You laugh gently, and Price sticks out a hand, stepping forward to shake. Lou looks at the outstretched hand, making no move to take it. After a moment of tension, Price retracts his hand, wiping it on his jeans.

“Must be a germ freak, huh?” He says, trying to keep the tone light. Price tilts his head to you. “She’s mentioned you. Says you’re a genius. I’d love to pick your brain some time, if you want to chat.”

A genius, Lou thinks, and he can feel his shoulders straighten at the praise.

“That would be interesting,” Lou deadpans, “Are you two on a date?”

Andrew laughs, and Lou catches a flash of something flicker across your face. Upset? Anger? Bitterness? Lou can’t quite place it, but it feels strangely familiar to him, like a reflection of the same darkness which lives inside of him, and it leaves him thrown. He wants to see more of it, whatever was. 

But just as soon as he catches a glimpse of it, it’s gone, and you roll your eyes. 

“Us? Date? We’d be terrible,” Price says, and you nod with his words, smiling half-heartedly.

“We should get going. Andrew’s only in town for a few more days,” You say. Something in you looks sad, and Lou is rocked by a violent, feral impulse to tear this man apart. He seems none the wiser.

Lou blinks, and forces away the impulse to smile. 

“I’ll see you, then,” he says, and you smile to him as you wave goodbye.

That night, you and Price have sex in the living room. On the couch, not in your bed, and Lou hates how this man pleasures you in a way that is clearly satisfying for you. But he can’t tear his eyes away from the screen, transfixed as you shed your clothes and help undress him. He watches, trying to memorize the way you react to what Price does, what seems to get the best reaction, so that when it’s him touching you, he can impress you with how good he’s able to make you feel.

He watches, chin in his hand, and then-

And then, you seem to look up, right at the camera as you come undone. 

Lou follows soon after. 

And afterward, he watches as you get up and go to the kitchen by yourself to make coffee, decaf. You stare at the coffee maker, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and then close your eyes, and Lou knows that you must be thinking of him.

---

Price is, as you had said, only in town for a few more days, so Lou’s window of opportunity is only open a hair’s width. With that said, he’s always felt like his best work has been done under pressure, and by Monday evening, he’s gotten everything in place. 

First, he calls Price, using the phone number so helpfully supplied on his networking profile.

“Hello. This is Louis Bloom, we met the other day. We have a mutual friend,” Lou says when Price picks up the phone.

“Who?” Price asks, and then he says your name. “You’re her boss, right? Why are you calling me?”

“It’s important for you to come to my office right now. I need to talk to you about her,” Lou says. “Do you know the address? I found something out, and it concerns you. I want to speak to you about it in person.”

There’s a long pause, and Lou thinks for a moment that Price may not take the bait. But then, his curiosity- whatever it is in him that drove him to be a journalist- wins out.  

“Yeah, alright. Can you give me the address? I’ll head over now.” Looking at the clock, Lou sees that it’s a quarter past six in the afternoon. Perfect. 

And then, one text, Lou sends to you. 

[Please pick up some new film for me and meet me at my office at 7pm. I look forward to seeing you tonight. Wear your navy blue dress - LB]

---

“Alright. You’ve got my attention. What is it that’s so important?”

Andrew Price walks into the small office space, shoulders straight and confident. He’s a fairly clean cut, attractive man, but he doesn’t love you, and Lou knows it. Hands shoved in his pockets, and a frown on his face, Price strides across the room to stand in front of Lou.

Lou sits at his desk, his cell phone in his hand.

“I know you’re sleeping with her,” Lou says calmly, “You don’t have to pretend you aren’t, I know that you are.”

 Price scoffs, and looks at him like he’s an idiot.

 “And what if I am? You’re not her boyfriend, man. Just because you have a creepy little crush and you’re her boss doesn’t mean you get to control her. She can sleep with whoever the fuck she wants.” Scowling, Price shakes his head. “I knew it. She defended you, but I knew you were into her.”

“You’re right. I am,” Lou answers easily. Then he smiles. “And you mean that I’m not her boyfriend yet.”

 Price leans across the desk, pushing himself into Lou’s personal space. He looks equally parts disgusted and unnerved, and Lou holds his thumb just over the call button on his phone, waiting for the perfect moment. He glances at the clock.

 “I thought I was going to get some information coming here, but you know what? I think I’m going to leave here with some information to give.” Price leans away. “Is that all?”

“No,” Lou answers, and he hits call. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The voice on the other end asks as Price stares in bewilderment.

“There’s a man, he’s broken into my office- I- I think he wants to hurt me- this is Lou Bloom calling from 113 Main Street West, I’m very afraid for my safety-” Lou makes the panic in his voice real, waits for a second, and then starts to scream, deep and guttural from his chest. He shoves some heavy filming equipment off of his desk and then ends the call with a tap of his finger. 

A moment of silence stretches between the two men. Quietly, Lou gathers his will.

“What the fuck-” Price starts, but he’s cut off as Lou slams his own face into his desk.

His nose gives a sickening crunch, and blood splatters out from it across the desk. Lou gasps at the sharp pain blooming across his face, fairly certain he’s successfully broken his own nose- and he knows what a broken nose feels like. Price watches in horror, taking a step back as Lou slams his face back into the desk a second time, this time knocking his tooth through his upper lip.

Blood is gushing from his nose, more than Lou expected, and it’s staining down the front of his shirt as he straightens. Quickly and definitively, Lou grips the collar of his shirt and rips it open. He takes two steps toward Price, who backs away from him.

“You’re fucking insane,” Price says, holding his hand up as if to tell Lou to stop coming closer. As if it would stop him. Grabbing his wrist and yanking the man forward, Lou smears some of his own blood from under his nose across Price’s knuckles.

It’s almost too easy. Lou looks at Price, standing and watching in shock, and then at the clock. He takes two measured steps backward, kicks the desk chair over, and slumps down against one of his cabinets.

He sits there for nearly two minutes, panting and waiting for the blood to stop flowing. Price seems to not know if he should leave or stay, and stares wide-eyed at Lou, and then at his hand, and then around the room. 

He’s realizing just now, Lou thinks, what this will look like when the cops show up. But more importantly, how it will look when-

You enter through the door, wearing a navy blue dress, your bag slung over your shoulder. You freeze, and take in the scene, looking from Lou to Price. Your eyes are wide, horrified, and it seems that you can’t believe what you’re seeing. 

“Oh, god,” Lou moans, “You need to leave, please, he went crazy-”

At the same time, Andrew starts to talk, his hands held out in front of himself again as he equivocates and tries to explain and excuse what you’re seeing.

“This isn’t what it looks like- this guy, he’s insane, he- I didn’t-” Price’s voice breaks, and he’s at a complete loss for what to say or do as you drop your bag and rush to Lou’s side.

“Oh my god. Oh my god? Lou? Lou, fuck, you’re bleeding,” You say, real panic in your voice as you kneel beside him and gently touch his face. Lou meets your gaze, and you’re close, you’re so close to him, and you smell so wonderful, and you wore the blue dress.

“Get out of here,” He says quickly to you, looking you in the eye. “And wait for the police to arrive. You need to be safe.”

Andrew Price sputters from the corner, and laughs a manic, shocked peel of laughter. 

“You can’t honestly believe him, can you?” He asks, gesturing to Lou. 

But you don’t get a chance to answer, because that’s when the police burst through the doorway, yelling, guns drawn.

A news story is all about framing. How a story looks to its audience is the most important thing in how they will receive it. And once that first image, that initial impression has formed in the audience’s mind, it can be incredibly difficult to change.

There are no security cameras running in Lou’s office, or at least not any that were running that night. When the police see the blood smeared across Price’s knuckles, it doesn’t matter that they aren’t swollen or bruised from hitting him. They arrest him on the spot, and you never leave his side throughout the entire process, not once.

Lou never thought he himself would become a story featured on the morning news, but he’s an adaptable man.  Sitting upright in his hospital bed the next morning, his nose bandaged, his lip swollen, and one of his eye blackened, Lou watches the story play on the morning news.

Terrible camera work. Amateurs must have shot this, he thinks, as a shaky camera pans across his office, zooming in on his blood on the floor. There’s a shot of you at his side, escorting him to the back of the ambulance. He looks a mess: his hair is in his face, and his cheek already beginning to swell. But you’ve got your hand on his arm, and you look so concerned and scared for him that it makes his heart swell.

“Whoever filmed us didn’t do a very good job, did they?” You whisper, quietly latching the door behind you. In the second bed in the room, an elderly woman sleeps, and Lou notes your consideration as you lightly walk across the room to his bedside.

“No. If we had been filming, we would have gotten a much better shot of the office. If you film it through the window, you’d get a clear view of the camera and the blood on the ground,” Lou answers, annoyed. I couldn’t have set it up any better, he thinks, wincing as pain shoots through his face when he speaks.

Sitting beside him, Lou can see that you’ve changed clothes since last night, into a dark shirt and a pair of jeans- his blood must be all over the dress, Lou realizes. You lean in close to him, clearly still worried. For the first time in weeks, Lou wasn’t able to watch you go to bed. He wonders if you slept poorly.

“You okay?” You murmur, a hand touching his shoulder lightly. You look solemn and disturbed as you continue, “I can’t believe... I never would have thought Andrew would do something like that.”

Lou reaches up to brush the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear the way that you do when you’re nervous. “I was shocked too. He flew into a rage, talking about how he knew that I had feelings for you and saying that he wouldn’t let me near you.” Lou tells you this calmly, voice even and monotone as he recites the story he’s rehearsed in his head. “He knew that I wanted to be with you, and he attacked me. He broke my nose, and as you can see, did a good deal of damage otherwise.” Lou smiles to you, watching your eyes flick over your face.

“Do you?” You ask quietly, searching his expression.

“Do I what?” 

“Want to be with me?” You reach out and take his hand softly in yours, and Lou feels triumph burning in his chest. He won’t even have to make the first move. It’s perfect.

“Yes,” he answers readily, “I like many things about you. The way that you listen to me, the way you wear your hair, the way that you smell. I like how attentive you are. I like that you always sit close to me,” Lou takes a breath, and notes the strange, almost alien feeling of nerves. “I’ve thought about kissing you a lot.”

“Just kissing?” You reply cheekily. You’re leaning in even closer, squeezing his hand.

“No,” Lou breathes, “Much more than kissing.”

“But we can start there,” You finish, before you close the distance between the two of you and kiss him. 

You kiss so softly, so hesitatingly, and at first Lou matches your pace. He loves how unsure you seem to be, the way your lips press so lightly and chastely against his. He reciprocates, gently initially, but his patience quickly wanes and he deepens the kiss. Lou moves his lips more insistently against yours, kissing with more fervor. 

Reaching up, he cups your face in both of his hands to hold you in place, and he continues to kiss you hungrily. You gasp for air between the kisses, and he nearly feels dizzy from his own lack of oxygen as he continues to press small, quick kisses against your lips, ignoring the ache spreading across his face. Every time you go to pull away, he kisses you again, not wanting to let you leave his grasp.

He wants to keep kissing you. He thinks that he wants to keep kissing you forever.

---

---

---

When you finally walk out of the hospital room, your heart hammering. Your face is flushed, and you make it halfway down the hallway before a grin spreads slowly across your face.

That wonderful, magnificent bastard, You think to yourself. That terrible genius. Look at what he’s done to get me.

You hadn’t even had to break things off with Andrew yourself. 

Lou finally had you, but then again, you'd had him in your sights for a while. 

Game, set, match. 

---

You know about the cameras.

Of course you know about the cameras. 

You’d noticed one shortly after Lou had sent the coffee maker to your house, small and hidden in the corner of your bookshelf. You’d suspected that he had feelings for you as soon as you were promoted, but the gift had been what cemented his intentions in your mind, and had first triggered your suspicion that he was watching you. 

Searching through your apartment without making it look like you were looking for the cameras had been a bit tricky. You pretended to be cleaning, not wanting Lou to catch on that you suspected him. For a while, before you found the proof you were looking for, you had thought you were just becoming paranoid. Finally catching sight of the small black box with the pinhole-sized lenses had been equal parts a shock and a relief.

Lou is many things. He is vicious, he is ruthless, he is intent and will and a shameless drive toward achievement. But he is not exactly subtle.

You drum your fingers along the smooth wooden surface of Lou’s desk in the Video Production News office, and take a sip of your coffee. While Lou took several days off following his discharge from the hospital (a rarity for him) you had volunteered to put the office back in order. You’d successfully cleaned and rearranged the space, and now you were busy picking up the slack editing footage packages for the networks. 

This leaves you in the office with Mikhael, who sits across the room skimming through police reports on his laptop. Although your eyes are on your computer screen, your mind is elsewhere, mulling over Lou and what had happened between him and Andrew.

You weren’t sure exactly sure what had gone down, but you doubted Andrew had attacked Lou out of jealousy over you. The taste of bitterness wells in your mouth, as thick and bitter as bile as you remember how long you pined after Andrew, and how badly you’d wanted him to be more than a friend with benefits. He’d never been interested in you romantically, so the thought of him flying into a rage over you seemed unlikely. 

Not that you’d told the police that.

After all, Lou’s ruthlessness and willingness to do whatever it takes to succeed is part of what draws you to him, and what attracted you to him in the first place. You’ve never seen such ceaseless ambition and motivation in someone before, and certainly not directed toward you.

Maybe you should have been horrified instead of flattered when you noticed a small camera in your apartment, eye-level and stuck to the bottom of a shelf. Maybe you should be irate instead of thrilled when Lou tells you what to wear, or plainly tells you what he likes about you and what he wants you to change. 

But you aren’t. 

Lou is a predator, closing in on you with hunger in his eyes. But you’re no prey, and you’re just fine with getting backed up into a corner. You’re being maneuvered, but you’re right where you want to be.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

[Let’s go for dinner tonight. -LB]

You smile down at your phone, and wait a moment before you type out your reply.

[I’d like that. Is it a date?]

You wonder if you should tell him you know what happened with Andrew, or ask him how his injuries are. He answers your text almost immediately.

[Yes. -LB]

---

“Halibut are nocturnal animals. Did you know that? I was watching a documentary on nocturnal creatures earlier today. Animals that are nocturnal, rather than diurnal like most mammals, have a number of specific adaptations which allow them to better track and hunt and survive through the night, such as silent flight, heightened senses, and echolocation. Their circadian rhythms are also slightly shorter than diurnal animals.”

You take another bite of your fish, and nod to signify that you’re listening to Lou.

He smiles, and looks proud of himself, seemingly excited to share the information he’s learned. You really don’t care about the circadian rhythms of nocturnal animals, but he’s actually pretty cute like this- at least you think so, though you imagine other people might find his monotone, quickly-spoken monologues off-putting.

The restaurant you’re in in small but private, and the two of you sit in a booth toward the back of the room that provides ample seclusion from the other customers. Lou has a meal in front of him that he’s barely touched, instead choosing to focus his attention almost singularly on you. It makes you feel like you’re an ant under a magnifying glass. His stare burns you, in more ways than one.

His nose, though no longer bandaged, is still heavily bruised and broken, and his left eye shines black and purple. Even as battered as he is, Lou has clearly put effort into his appearance tonight. His hair is slicked back, and he wears a nicely pressed dress shirt and blazer. Across from him, you wear a dark red dress.

“We’re out a lot after dark. Do you sleep through most of the day after a night of work?” You ask him in between bites of your dinner.

“No. I sleep very little,” he replies, before he pauses, and then continues. “You strike me as the kind of person who falls asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. And then, the kind who sleeps very deeply. Am I right?” 

You feign surprise, and your stomach flips pleasantly as you imagine him watching you in bed. “Yes. You’re exactly right, Lou. How’d you know?”

Lou surveys you seriously. You can never predict what he’s going to say next, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s about to admit to you that he broke into your apartment. Instead, he leans in close, and speaks in a low voice, like he’s sharing a secret.

“I know this because I pay attention to you. I’ve told you that there are a number of things that I like about you, and I know you don’t need me to repeat myself. I think you and I are a good fit, both professionally and personally. You’re my employee, so we keep the same work schedules. You spend a lot of time with me already. We both live alone currently, and our lifestyles suit each other. Neither of us go out partying much, or drink excessively, and we both like to read. Think about it. I can provide enough income to support both of us, and if we live together, we can save money by commuting together. Also, I enjoy your company, and am very sexually attracted to you. The fact that you kissed me the other day implies you feel the same way. Am I wrong?”

You take a moment to digest Lou’s words, cheeks colouring at his boldness. “No, you’re not.” You pause. “You’ve really thought all this out? That you want a relationship with me?”

“Of course,” Lou answers. “It’s clear you would compliment me very well.”

“Half a week ago you were attacked by my ex... er, ex-friend because he wanted to keep you away from me. Now you want to be my boyfriend. You move pretty fast,” You reply glibly, with a smile.

Lou doesn’t smile back. “Why shouldn’t I? We both know what we want. Do you have any questions, or do you agree?”

You think for a moment. Lou is pressing forward without quarter, leaving so little room for argument. He leans forward, head slightly tilted, gaze vicious.

 “A couple,” you say, “Are you allergic to cats?”

Lou leans back, shakes his head, and smiles. “No. And I like that you’re thinking ahead. Foresight is important in any relationship.”

You swirl your wine around your glass, and avoid Lou’s relentless eye contact. “About that. How serious are you about this?”

Lou looks confused. “How serious? I wouldn’t be proposing a relationship if I wasn’t serious about wanting it.”

It’s your turn to press. “You want it now, sure. But you’re not going to dump me in a few months if someone else who catches your eye comes along?”

Blinking once, deliberately, Lou shakes his head. “No. I’m rarely interested in people.” He pauses, and breaks the eye contact with you, and you sense a raw, blatant truthfulness in his words. “And it’s even rarer that I like them as much as I like you. I want... to relate to people. I want to have relationships and friendships. But most of the time I find it’s impossible. People end up being shallow, and petty, and wrong.” The bitterness in his words is clear. “They don’t listen to me, and they always inevitably make things... complicated.”

He seems lost, for a moment. You take his hands in yours gently, and smooth your thumb across his knuckles.

“I understand,” You murmur. “In a way. Relationships come easy to me. Getting people to like me, to trust me. But connecting on a deeper level... isn’t so easy.”

Lou’s attention snaps back to you, and he watches you like a vulture closing in on its dying prey.

“You’re going to be my girlfriend,” he implores, an unspoken threat lining his tone, the kind which you couldn’t even put words to if you tried. “Aren’t you?”

You nod. “I just have one question left.”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to take me home tonight, Louis Bloom?”

---

Louis does take you home. On the cab ride back to his apartment, his hand never once leaves the small of your back, as though he feels like if he stops touching you, you’ll vanish. He’s quiet for nearly the entire ride, as if he’s mapping out the night ahead in his mind, trying to anticipate how the evening will go so he has total control.

Silly Lou. If he wants total control, you’ll simply give it to him. He doesn’t need to work so hard for it.

Closing and locking the door behind you, Lou takes off his shoes and sets them aside, and throws his keys onto his counter. Now late in the evening, the lights from the city outside shine in from Lou’s uncovered window, and the room is silent, save for the sound of cars speeding by his apartment. Even with the room barely lit, you can see Lou watching you, and feel the way his focus sharpens and becomes carnivorous.

Your heart begins to hammer as alarm bells go off in your mind. Every instinct you have tells you that Lou is a threat, and it makes you feel absolutely wicked.

He walks across the room in slow, stiff strides, keeping his eyes on you. He stops in front of you.

“Take of your clothes.” He says, then walking past you, across the room. Lou picks up a camera from his computer desk, and turns back to you. “You can set them down on the couch. When you’re finished, follow me into the bedroom.” With those words, he disappears from your sight, heading into a room that you’ve never seen before, but you assume is the bedroom.

Quickly, you follow his instructions. You’re so nervous you feel nearly ill, and though you’d imagined many times how an evening with Lou would go, you didn’t expect this. Folding your clothes neatly as you disrobe, you feel bare and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t before. It was one thing to know Lou was watching you when you were naked through a camera. It was another to strip down in his home.

You walk lightly into the bedroom, stopping as you pass the threshold of the door. Lou stands at the end of the bed, his camera in his hands, watching. Moving swiftly, he snaps a photo of you as you stand there, feeling more than a little shy. You blink in surprise at the flash, and swallow your nerves.

“Good,” He says. His eyes rake over your body. “You’re perfect. Lay down on the bed.”

“Okay,” You reply breathlessly.

You’re pretty sure your entire body is blushing. Gingerly, you crawl up onto Lou’s bed, and lay back on top of his smooth, navy blue sheets. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch him raise the camera again.

“Spread your legs,” He orders, “I want to see you.”

Shivering, you let your legs fall open, glancing off to the side as he snaps his second photo. His stare is too intense- you’ve never felt more naked in your life. Looking back to him, you can tell how aroused he is at a glance, and it’s pleasing to know that he’s more affected by you than his expression would let on.

Lowering the camera, Lou walks around to the side of the bed. He takes your wrist carefully in his grasp, and moves your arm so that it is placed over your head. When he lets go, you keep it there, and Lou smiles wistfully at you, a pleasant hum of approval escaping his throat.

“You look worried,” He notes, “Are you afraid?”

“No,” You answer truthfully.

“Open your mouth slightly and look at the camera.” You do as he demands, and he snaps his third picture. With that, he lowers the camera and places it on the bedside table, seemingly satisfied. 

Hastily, Lou crawls over you, onto the bed. Hovering over you he looks down at you for a long minute, his hands on either side of your head, his body caging you against the bed. You are, in every manner of the word, trapped.

Lou moves his head down, and kisses you, fervent and victorious.

By the time Lou finally touches you, you’re more than ready for him. His touches and movements are clumsy, and not necessarily skilled, but your skin feels set alight by him. Every press of his fingers sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and every kiss pressed to your skin another wave of satisfaction. His eagerness and your attraction to him makes up for anything that he lacks in his technique, and your body responds to him gladly.

As he is with everything, Lou is ferocious and unyielding, and his claiming of you is nothing short of a conquest. Exactly as you'd wanted. Exactly as you'd planned. 

After, you lay beside him, shivering and sweating. Lou uses his hand to push his bangs out of his face, and looks from the ceiling, to you. For once, you find his gaze warm, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

A moment of silence passes. You and Lou pant and relax into the space, and he lays an arm affectionately across your waist. It’s such a peaceful moment that you think it must be just about time that you lay all of your cards on the table.

“You know, next time, we should just have sex in my apartment. That way, instead of taking pictures, you can just review the footage from the cameras you set up.”

You keep your tone nonchalant and easy, but you can feel Lou stiffen beside you. His arm, which had been relaxed, now grips you tightly, and he turns to stare at you fully, eyes wide and wild.

Your heart is in your throat as you watch Lou’s mouth twitch. You can almost feel him assessing whether or not you’re a threat to him, can see him trying to understand how this changes things. 

He may be wondering if he’s going to need to hurt me, you think.

“Excuse me?” He whispers, voice low, and you have to swallow a laugh at his incredulousness. If this situation wasn’t so tense, it would be funny.

Carefully, you reach over and cup his face in your hands. You admire him openly, smoothing your thumb across his bruised cheekbone and looking over his injured features. You absolutely delight in him, and make no attempt to hide it.

“Don’t worry, Lou. I’m on your team,” You whisper back, smile bordering manic. “I know about all of it. I've known. Okay?”

He continues to stare at you, silent, assessing.

“All of it?” He repeats hesitantly. You nod.

“We’re going to make a great couple, don’t you think?” You ask him, and his expression remains unchanged, still disbelieving and suspicious. 

And then, Lou surges forward and kisses you so suddenly and forcefully that you feel as though all of the air in your lungs has been knocked out of you. Pressing his mouth to yours, consuming, Lou wraps his arms around your body, and holds you to him as if you were his life line.

---

---

“He had you pose as a grief counsellor to speak with the victim’s family. No ethical news source is going to accept this.”

Nina Romina sits in front of you. It has been several weeks since you first went home with Lou, and you’re sitting across from Nina in her office, your hands folded in your lap. She holds a sample of your interview, typed out into a manuscript, which contains several juicy details about a double homicide that even the police hadn’t been able to gather.

“That’s why we’re bringing it to KWLA 6,” you reply smoothly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t missed Lou’s contributions.”

Nina’s mouth presses into a thin line, and she says nothing.

“You haven’t said no,” you add, and she glares at you.

“Print journalism is dead. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that he sent you instead of coming here himself. And don’t think that I don’t know exactly what is going on between you two.” Nina snorts, looking away. She’s irked. You shrug off her comments, knowing that her annoyance means she’s probably going to take the deal you’ve laid out for her.

She looks back down at the papers in her hands, and then to you. She seems to consider something, and her expression softens.

“You know, I really do feel for you. This is good work, and I know that Lou is using you. He has a way of... making people do what he wants them to. Blackmailing them, bullying them, whatever he can do to get what he wants, he does it. There’s something seriously wrong with him. I don’t know what he’s done to you. But... I could maybe pull some strings. Get you a job here, instead. Get you out of there” She looks at you expectantly.

You stand up, and smooth out the wrinkles of your dress. A wry smile spreads across your face.

“Ms. Romina. I think you’re confused about my relationship with Lou.” You can’t stop the way your smile widens, “I know what your relationship with him with him was like, so I can understand why you would be. But I assure you, Lou has never asked me to do anything I’m not comfortable doing, both during and outside of work.”

You pause, amused by the shock in her expression at your sudden change in tone. Just moments before, she had believed you were harmless, like most people do when meeting with you. You continue cheerily.

“Lou is my boss. And he’s my partner, among other things. A word of advice to you: don’t presume that you know anything about us. Now, on this interview we’ve presented you with today. You and I both know that you’d be posting it as an article online, so don’t give me this ‘print is dead’ bullshit. We also both know that your ratings have dipped ever since Lou started exploring other networking options. We’d be open to negotiating an exclusive contract with you... on our conditions, and our pricing. So... can Lou expect a call from you later today?”

A long, tense moment stretches between you, before warily, Nina says, “Yes, he can.”

“Excellent.” You reply, taking back your copy of the interview sample from her hand. As you turn to leave, you hear Nina speak from behind you.

“Jesus Christ,” Nina breathes, shaking her head. “Who the fuck are you?”

You pause at the doorway.

“I’m just the assistant.” You reply, leaving without sparing her a second glance.

[nishimiyachan55]

My curse boyfriend (chapter 5)

Pairing: Mahito(jujutsu kaisen) X reader

Chapters: 5/?

Other chapters: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

'boyfriend'

A week has passed already!!?? Why do you feel like time runs so fast. Maybe it’s because Mahito was keeping you busy the whole week! He never actually left you after your last meeting. Well he go out sometimes but not for too long. He always comes back slipping through your window or just popping up right in front of you from nowhere just to surprise you or to scare you. The worst surprise was when you were relaxing in your bathtub, while you saw bubbles between your legs and unexpectedly he jumped out of the water. You threw your shampoo bottle on to his head with a scream at that time.

He was always there clinging to you. Crouching next to you when you wake up, sitting next to you when you study, making your stomach clench with his maniacal stare, curling under your blanket and cuddling you all night. No matter what you do he always stood next to you never missing any chance to touch you, and definitely trying new things with you on bed.  Trying new positions to make you moan louder, changing the shape of his cock while thrusting deep into you just to see you cry, and definitely  creating more marks on your body.

Seriously you would do anything to get some privacy. He even followed you to your university, Sitting next to you while you were attending lectures. He never liked it when your attention diverted from him. Whenever you talk to someone for a bit longer, his face gave that unsettling look especially if it’s your male friends. So you tried to avoid unnecessary conversations as much as you could.

You preferred him in your room more than  outside it. The worst of spending time with him outside was when he fingered you right in the middle of your lectures.  You tried to suppress your moans biting to your lips when overstimulation hit your core. All while you pretended to pay attention to the class, and when the guy sitting next to you noticed your weird expressions and asked if you were okay, Mahito laughed so hard at your pitiful state at that time.

So whenever he wasn’t with you in your class time, it felt like heaven. You could at least talk to your friends without being watched.

You kept wearing long sleeve sweaters this whole week covering all the bite marks on your body. You tried to avoid your best friend as much as you could. If You spend more time with her you knew she would definitely notice your changes in behavior.

You felt really tired, weak, so you  decided to bunk the afternoon session.  You weren’t even getting enough sleeps from Mahito. All you needed was some rest…to heal your soul and body.  anyway you decided to go home.

You walked to your room as soon as you got home, checking if he was there. You weren’t wrong, Mahito was there, laying on your bed with a book in his hand. When he heard you came in he greeted you with a waving hand.

“you are early today Y/n, did you bunk your class!? Is it because you wanted to see me soon…?”  He huddle up on your bed looking at you with a jovial smile.

You didn’t want to give answer to that but you nodded. You took out a book from your bag and throw it to him, the book he asked you to bring for him. He kept visiting the library with you the whole week. Making you take new books for him.

You let your self fell into the fluffy bed, face buried into the pillow. Mahito caressed your hair with his cold fingers. “are you tired Y/n?”

You took a deep sigh “I am exhausted”. your bed felt like the most comfortable place on earth. A place you can bury your sore body. You hate to admit it, but his touch was so soothing.

“Really…! Hmm….. maybe I should treat you gentle next time” he threw himself to the bed beside you. Wrapping his hands around you And pressing his chest on your back. he  put his one leg over your hips caging you under him and moved your hair to give a soft kiss behind your neck.

You jolted when his cold lips touched your sensitive area behind your neck. In a way it felt really comforting, safe…. Secure….. even though he was the most danger surrounded you. You just wanted to sleep under him like that.

“im going to take a shower” moving his hands from your back and twitching your body from his grip, you raised your self from the bed.

 Taking off your hoodie you walked towards the bathroom. At least taking a shower will lift your mood a little you thought.

You stood naked under the shower, water mixing with your tears as you looked at yourself. You were so defenseless against him,…so fragile…, he could break you anytime. Your throat felt tight when you tried to swallow soreness. You skimmed your fingers on the bruise on your throat when the memories flashed, the time he put knife under your throat, the time he shoved his cock down your throat making your eyes flutter with tears…..it still hurts…. He treated you like a sex doll this whole time.

But….no matter how hard he push you… in the end his sweet smile and innocent face comforts you. He knew how to take care of you, how to manipulate you, and you didn’t even knew it.

You were the perfect toy for him. You had all the qualities a human should have. Selfishness, greediness, jealousy, hatred, sadness but also, you were ‘confident’. A perfect human toy. Nothing gives much pleasure to him than the thought of breaking you.

You came out of the shower wearing a bath rob,  drying your wet hair with a towel. Your eyes flutter open when you saw Mahito holding your phone in his hand.

“Mahito..! What are you doing!! Why did you take my phone without asking me!!” You raised your voice walking towards him.

“hmm…. Asking permission huh…! Don’t you think it’s appropriate to ask permission before clicking someone else’s picture!?” He turned your phone showing his picture you took the day you met him.

Your breathing hitched at the moment. That picture….. How cute he were in that picture. How unfortunate, that time you didn’t even knew there was another side of him…,a side you still didn’t know completely… If you could, you would never end up in a mess like this.

You rushed to your bed trying to grab your phone back from his hand. But he held it up in his hand watching your weak body crawled up on him struggling to take it back.

“give it back!” When your knees pressed on his thighs he jerked you forward by pulling on your hips. Your knees on the bed, your hips close to his waist, your hands placed on his chest, you stared into his eyes

“you liked me from the day you met me, right      Y/n?” His voice was soft, eyes were glowing, he seemed pleased when he waited for your response.

“i….um….. Yes” you whispered. You didn’t want to lie. There is no point in lying now, so you told him the truth.

“How adorable….  Im so glad that I met you Y/n, im not the type of person not everyone would like you know… But you liked me at the first sight!”

 Honestly he was pleased by your answer. It was very rare to find people who could see him which are not jujutsu sorcerers. And you were one of them. Someone who could see curses but not a sorcerer.

“anyway, I already told you,  you need to mind Your manners Y/n, taking other people’s pictures without their permission is a bad behavior. So….im gonna teach some manners to you…” He tightened his grip around you squeezing you in his lap.

“Mahito… please….!! I will never… do it again…” You tried pull your self from his tight grip. “Let me go….it hurts… please…” You looked at him with tear filled eyes. His grip was too tight that you thought he will break your bones.

But his grin only grew wider. He pulled his pants down and positioned you for his cock to rub against your exposed cunt under the rob.

“Tell me Y/n, you  are not going to leave me no matter what, right! You still love me, don’t you?” even if he knew the answer he wanted to hear it from you one more time.

Do you still love him!!?? Of course you do, don’t you!? You know he is dangerous, he can hurt you so bad, in worst case….he can kill you anytime…  But why? Why you still love him! You hate it when he hurt you, you hate it when he enjoys every moment of the pain he causing you, but still…. You can’t hate him. You have become what you never wanted to become….. You were obsessed with him… weren’t you? You never thought you would be a simpleton for a man, but here you were, obsessed with something not even human.

“Tell me…” He teased your wet folds with his cock rubbing circles around it. Your slick coated on the tip of his cock, making it easy to slide in.

You bit your lower lip and moved your hip against his length trying to take him in. How could you spill out a word when he was teasing you like that! With a gulp sound you swallowed his length inside slowly.

With a loud moan you spill it out when he started thrusting you. “yes.....I still, love you” You threw your head back and tugged your hands on his top. You wanted more even if your whole body was aching from his rough treatment. Was it lust or love? You couldn’t understand.

When you were bouncing his lap with wet sounds echoing in your room, he leaned his head closer to your neck to give you a forceful kiss and a bite along with it. You clung your teeth suppressing the pain. You are getting better at this, don’t you? Tolerating with this pain he gives you…in other words you started enjoying it a bit….a painful pleasure.

He could be a mess in the bed, but the other time he spends with you were the happiest moments for you. He always acted so cute. So innocent, that you forget all the hurting he did before.

Your walls squeezed his cock as orgasm started to hit you. Your climax was reaching at its peak…. The ring of your doorbell bring your hazy mind into consciousness with a jerk.

You tilted your head to the side of your room’s door and back to mahito’s unpleasant face. Who the hell was that which ruined your best moment! Both of you looked at each other with a frown settled on face.

After a second of silence,You pulled away from his grip and rushed to grab some clothes. At first he refused to release you from his lap but when you struggled more he let you go. You got dressed in a minute while the doorbell rang again and again, showing how impatient the person on the other side was. You opened the door, only to find your silly best friend in front of you.

The moment you saw her, the corners of your mouth turned down, your face filled with disappointment. “Great timing, you always know how to ruin things, don’t you!”  

She tilted her head and looked at you with blank face “huh!!! Why are you mad at me, did I do something wrong” she mumbled in a faint voice wondering why you look frustrated.

You didn’t say anything but your face still held that frown in place. “whatever, just come in”. She followed you with a pout and put her bag on the table.

“Look what I bought you Y/n, your fav” she took out a box of sweets, your favorite one. Seeing her cute face with that sweet box in her hand made your heart melt. How can you stay angry looking at her smile, it’s more sweeter than the sweets she held in hand.

“fine, give it to me” you grabbed it from her hand and walked to your room with her. You were focused on her that you completely forgot about Mahito and the situation you left him. When you opened the door you met the figure of him laying completely naked on your bed. Your jaw dropped on the sight of him smiling at you in a innocent way. He was laying there like it was nothing, like it’s completely normal to stay naked in front of your friend. She couldn’t see him though.

You turned your gaze towards your best friend’s side from Mahito’s. She was still talking to you completely unaware of the fact that a curse was laying naked before her eyes. She kept blabbering about silly things when your legs started to shake a little, sweating heavily. What is he doing!! Is he making fun of you? Is it one of his silly games!  Your pulse accelerated when she walked to the bed  and threw herself on to it.

“Huh! When did you started reading books?” she took the book mahito set aside on the bed and skimmed through the pages. Mahito didn’t move a bit from where he was laying. She was laying so close to him that she might touch him. You flinched and gulped on the thought of it. He was enjoying it, the anxiety it causes you. Watching you sweat and shiver with a playful grin.

A whimper came out from your mouth when she leaned down more, her lip almost touching the tip of his cock. “hm….this book look interesting, I never knew you started reading Y/n”. His grin grew wider as you watched her laying next to him, completely unaware of what she was facing. He raised his hips a little so that his tip could touch her lip.

“NO……...STOP!!” you screamed and rushed towards her pinning her down on the bed and sitting on top of her back. Grabbing her hair you pulled her head back away from his cock. Her eyes widened and she screamed louder when pain hit her.

“WHA-T ARE YOU DOING, GET OFF ME…..My hair!“ she twisted her body to get you off from her back. Your eyes were settled on him that you didn’t notice her Struggle. You literally wanted to punch him in the face for what he did. How could he act so innocent doing something hideous.

Somehow she managed to pull herself up from your grip and she pushed you away from her against the pillows. Caressing her hair she snapped at you.

“Have you lost your mind, why did you do that!!!” her face turned red with anger. With that you knew you messed up. How could you explain this to her, that you were trying to protect her. You didn’t mean to hurt her, you couldn’t think of any excuses to defend yourself. Apologising won’t help, so the next option was protesting back.

“why did you take that book! It’s mine and I was about to read it” you had nothing in your mind to say against her. So you tried to argue over stupid things.

Mahito laughed so hard at how you two were fighting. How fun this is for him. Watching you struggle to hide the fact that you were living with a curse. Too bad for her she couldn’t see the danger she was facing. Maybe he could transfigure her right in front of you. How will you respond to that. Will you cry? Scream out of shock? Are you going to hate him after that? Oh he doesn’t care if you hate him, he will fuck you right in front of her transfigured body without mercy. Mahito’s mind wandered through all the ways he could break you using your friend.

“fine, I forgive you” you decided that arguments won’t get you anywhere so it’s better to divert her attention from that. “ I’ll cook something for you” you jumped to the ground and walked towards the kitchen.

“huh! Forgive me!! I am suppose to forgive you” her anger melted instantly when you talked about food. “did you say cook?” her aggressive face turned into a bright smile and she followed you to the kitchen.

Food was the next thing you two bonded over after anime. You two always go out to eat, trying new things. Either you pay the bill or she does. Sometimes you two love to cook something new, and try it. So you knew food was the best option to calm her down.

  Mahito came out of the room to the kitchen. Good thing he was wearing at least his pants now. Your eyes darted on his exposed chest, wandering through his toned muscles. You couldn’t control the urge to touch his abs but you needed to stay mad at him. He just tried to put his cock on your friend’s mouth, the person you love the most. It’s unforgivable, you need to make sure he doesn’t do anything like that ever again.

You tried to focus on your friend who was asking about the ingredients and stuff. “did your neighbor guy give this recipe to you? Hm, I remember the last time we tried something with his recipe, it was delicious” she said looking at the recipe note on her hand.

Mahito just sit on the chair beside the counter top and watched you two arguing over the ingredients. He couldn’t understand why you look so happy with her. You were so exhausted, you were about to break just a while ago. But when you saw her…., It all changed. How could she make you this happy? Mahito noticed whenever you were with her your energy is on another level. You were happy, and he didn’t like that. He is the only one to make you happy right! not anyone else. He couldn’t understand, he was trying his best to give you pleasure on bed, he was pretty sure you were happy with that. But why….? Why this girl makes you more happier than he do.

“Hm, this tastes so good” you two sat at the table eating the dish you just made. There was an unspeakable silence between you two. “Y/n, are you really ok?” she looked at you, her eyes told she was concerned.

“Yeah, I am ok dummy, why did you ask that?” You knew she would ask that at some point. You two were together from your childhood, she knew you better than anyone, even the slightest difference in your behavior. She could  just tell it by looking at your face, what’s going through your mind, even you tried to act like you are fine. That’s how  close you two were. You two never wanted to be separated. She promised you that when you were kids, ‘no matter what, even if you two grow older, she will be always with you'…..

“you have been avoiding me lately, it hurts….. never do that again” munching on the food she put her hand on her chin and looked away from you, there was a light tint of redness on her cheeks.

 You looked down to your plate lowering your head to hide the blush formed on your face. “I won’t, I promise…..” the words came from your mouth in a faint voice….

You were cleaning the table after your friend left your home. “Y/n, why do you love her so much?” Mahito sat on the table top leaning to your side.

You paused for a second, “hm….. let’s just say, the world is ending and I could save only one person, it will be her” you took the plates and walked towards the kitchen sink.

“Hm, you love her that much?” he was eager to know your answer, to know why you loved her so much.

“yes , more than anything in this world” you started washing the dishes your mind wandering somewhere else. Memories……  “about that, why did you tried to put your cock on her mouth!!?” you half turned your self to face him, your gloominess  suddenly changed  into anger.  He respond to it with a playful smile that made your face red with anger. “ I swear if you do anything like that to her again, I’ll kill you Mahito” you snapped at him throwing a cleaning towel on to him.

His face was flushed by your response, kill him! How funny. He like that, a weak human threatening him not knowing the fact that how strong he was. If it were any other human he should have already showed them how fragile they were. But this was you, his favorite toy, so it’s just cute to him how stupid you were.

“Now clean the table”. he stared at you blankly when you commanded him. “if you are planning to stay here as my ‘boyfriend', you should help me with the chores” you crossed your arms trying to act tough.

“Huh!!! That’s not fair, im a curse you can’t do this to me” he pouted. But did you call him ‘boyfriend'!! He could feel a tingling sensation on his stomach hearing you say that. You accepted him as your boyfriend! He was more than happy on the thought of it. He could also see how that annoying girl changed your behavior within a short time. It’s not good. If she is in the way, he cannot bring you to the condition he wanted you to be.

“Everything is equal in a relationship, if you share the bed with me, then you should share the kitchen works too, now clean it”. You walked back to your room not waiting for his response. He didn’t like the idea of that, but since it’s you are the one who telling him, he should listen. Especially when you accepted this bitter sweet relationship.

“Fine I’ll do it” that pout was still on his face. Hm, so you love that annoying girl more than anything…..good for him, now he know exactly how to break you….

[denaliwrites]

Enough of You to Dull the Pain

Cale Erendreich x Fem!Reader

Summary: (18+) You think that maybe exaggerating how you're feeling will lead to more cuddles. Instead... well...

Soundtrack: Twin Skeleton's (Hotel in NYC) by Fall Out Boy

Requests: Open!

Warnings: It's Cale Erendreich and it's smut. Choking / Suffocating / Drowning. CNC. No one dies but at least one person in this fic is getting a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Cale," you whimper, arms around your middle and clutching in pain. "Cale, it hurts so bad."

"What does, bunny?" he asks, holding an arm out for you to join him at his desk. You painfully pad into his embrace, and he carefully pulls you into his lap, all without once sparing you a glance.

"My everything," you say softly, dropping your head onto his shoulder with a pout.

He finally looks down to you, gaze sympathetic. "Did you eat something?" he asks. When you nod, he continues, "maybe it was bad."

"Maybe," you whimper, nuzzling closer. "I don't feel sick, though... just... hurty."

"Hurty, huh?" You don't miss the hint of amusement in his voice. "Are you on your period?" As you shake your head, you hear a soft tsk. Then his arms are around you, and he's easily picking you up. All you offer him by way of protest is a tiny sound of surprise.

He carries you into the bathroom and sets you down on the edge of the tub. "This'll help," he tells you as he runs the water. A gentle kiss is placed on your forehead, and then he's pulling away. You watch as he walks over to the cabinet, pulling out all his home spa goods. Your favorite face mask, shampoo and conditioner, oils, anything and everything.

He pools everything beside you, then looks up and sets about examining you. You whimper at his touch, which immediately softens. He checks your eyes, your forehead, your gums. It's a little strange, how used to this you are, but you don't complain as he continues.

Soon, your top is off, along with your bra, and he's tenderly checking your breasts. You release a low whine as his thumb brushes over your nipple, and he shoots you a knowing smirk before he gently kisses the bud and moves on.

Next, his fingers dig into your abdomen. It's nothing any doctor wouldn't do. Yet, at the barest touch, you all but cry out, hands darting out to clutch at his wrist in an attempt to stop him.

"Oh, there it is," he says softly. He apologizes by pulling you close and planting a kiss to your temple. You sink into his touch, unwilling to part from him even as he shifts to turn the water off.

Truth be told, while you are in quite a bit of pain, it's not really as bad as you're letting on. Honestly, you just want him to hold you. But when he's working, it's hard to get him to pay much attention to you.

You weren't expecting the bath, or for him to be quite this attentive. But you'll take it. Why wouldn't you? Any attention from Cale is good attention.

He's testing the water when you pull away from him, and as he does he hums in satisfaction. "That should be perfect for you, bunny."

He pulls away from you, only to pull you up to a stand. The stress on your stomach makes you whimper, but his kiss quickly chases it away. Slowly, carefully, he helps you out of your bottom layers, before he picks you up again and eases you gently into the water.

It's so hot it practically feels like it's melting you, and the moan you release isn't quite as innocent as you'd maybe have hoped -- if you were paying any attention.

You look up to Cale, and don't fail to notice the smug look he's wearing. "Oh, shut up," you whimper. He only laughs in response.

Another thing you don't fail to notice is the way his sleeves are now soaked from lowering you into the water. You think he'll be angry, but when he looks down he simply rolls his sleeves up with a shrug.

"Babe," you say softly, and his eyes are suddenly on you. "Can you massage my legs?"

"Oh, your legs are hurting now?" he asks, a playfully suspicious look in his eyes.

"Well... no... but I'd still feel better..."

He sighs for effect before he grabs the massage oil and sits down on the other side of the tub. He dabs some of the oil in his palm, closes the bottle, and puts it off to the side, then starts rubbing his hands together to warm the oil up. You watch his each and every movement, enraptured by him.

There's barely a moment for him to motion for your leg. You see his hand flex, and immediately profer the limb, draping your right leg over his lap. If he's upset about the way his trousers are now soaked, he makes no mention of it. Instead, he starts working his hands into your calf muscles, digging deep to reach the muscles that need the most attention.

He finishes with a kiss to the inside of your ankle. You withdraw your right leg and offer your left in its place. He repeats the motions, and ends that leg off with the same gesture.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks as he looks you over.

Forgetting your cover in your relaxed state, you moan, "just perfect."

You can tell by the way his eyes sharpen that you've made a mistake. Despite the nearly scalding water surrounding you, a chill dances down your spine as he drops down, hands clutching the lip of the tub on either side as he hovers over you, effectively trapping you in the water.

"I'm sorry," he starts, a dramatic flair of disbelief in his voice, "were you pretending to be sick so I'd pamper you?"

"Wh-what," you gasp, "no! No, of course not! I... I just kind of... maybe exaggerated... just a little, though, I swear!"

The way he looks at you is downright murderous, and there's no relief as he pulls back, nor as he gets up. And there's none when he starts slowly, tauntingly stripping his clothes off.

You watch in horror and fascination as he makes a show of it, his fingers lingering as he undoes each button of his shirt, as he unbuckles his belt, as he pulls down his fly. Your mouth is dry in fear, and yet you try to swallow thickly in anticipation.

He loses articles of clothing as he makes his way back to the tub, fully nude by the time he clambers in on top of you. All you can think for a moment is how fortunate it is that his tub is huge, so that you both fit easily.

All thoughts are chased away when his hand is suddenly on your throat and your head is forced back into the water.

You know you shouldn't scream, that it'll just waste air. But the sound tears out of you anyway, sending a plume of bubbles up to the surface. Even as your hands claw desperately at Cale's forearm, your hips give a weak thrust as a thrill shoots down to your cunt.

He holds you under just until the edge of too long. And then you're yanked back up, and his hold loosens just enough for you to cough and wheeze air back into your aching lungs.

"C-Cale--"

You're back under again, and this time the jolt between your legs is powerful enough to make you gasp.

You're wracked with coughs, and you don't realize you're not in the water anymore until Cale's mouth is crushed to yours. You think maybe he's giving you mouth-to-mouth, but eventually even your panicked brain knows that he's just roughly kissing you as your body dispels the water on its own.

He shifts so that he's poised above you, a predator ready to claim his kill.

"Cale?" you whimper, but he doesn't respond. "Cale--"

With a snap of his hips, his cock is thrust inside you. Keening, tears form in your eyes and your nails dig deep into his arm, still locked on your throat.

"Cale," you wheeze, desperately.

"Deep breath," he warns, and you barely have enough time to obey before he plunges you back into the water. He sinks his cock deeper at the same time, and you struggle not to cry out.

Each of his thrusts is brutally sharp, causing burning pain inside and dull, bruising pain outside. But all you can do is hold your breath and hope you can hold out -- hell, your life literally depends on it.

It doesn't take much for you to realize, even as your vision starts to darken around the edges and your mind gets hazy, that this isn't sex for him so much as Cale using you as a masturbatory aid.

Not that you mind -- you'd be perfectly wet for him, if not for the water.

And, even as the darkness closes in and you find it harder to think, you can feel pleasure growing. It's tightening in the pit of your stomach, heating you up in a way the water surrounding you never could.

Your mind, too fuzzy to focus on much of anything, wonders idly if Cale is talking to you from above the water, or if he really is just using you.

The thought, fleeting as it is, has you bucking your hips in wanton need. Cale's hand tightens around your throat, and now you're not sure if you're about to die by suffocation or drowning.

The hand on your throat presses harder down, and your ever-drifting mind connects it with his cock twitching inside you, followed by a surge of warmth spilling into your cunt.

With him finishing, you finally reach the end of your limits. Your body thrashes weakly in a desperate bid to get to air, to breathe, to live. As it does, you feel a hand at your pussy, two fingers sinking in to your cunt while the thumb plays at your clit.

You realize you're going to die, but at least Cale is sending you out with one last orgasm.

Between the air deprivation making you deliriously ecstatic, even as your body twitches in a last-ditch effort to breathe, and the hand in your cunt rocking your body with pleasure, it doesn't take long for you to reach that peak.

Your whole body goes into a rigid arch, thighs and cunt working together to crush the hand driving you to orgasm. And you can't help it, can't control it. With the last molecule of air left in your lungs, you scream.

And then you take a desperate breath in, and everything goes dark.

When you wake up, everything is sore. Your chest, your throat, your cunt. It takes you a few minutes to work through the haze, to remember why you hurt everywhere.

The next thing you take stock of is the present. You're swaddled in enough warm blankets to supply an army, and you've been laid in Cale's bed. You wonder if he's with you, until you feel something tighten around your waist and lips press to your cheek.

"You had me worried there for a second," he whispers.

You let out a breezy laugh. "You? Worried?"

"You didn't take to CPR right away," he informs you.

"Oh."

He continues, "and you've been out all day."

"Oh," you say again.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asks, as if your very near death hadn't just been the topic of conversation.

"I... yeah," you reply. You realize then that you are hungry, anyway.

"You should start with something easy. I'll make you some soup."

He withdraws and gets up, laying another kiss to your cheek as he passes.

When he gets back, you've already fallen back asleep. Your breathing is still labored and raspy. There's a twinge of guilt in his heart when he hears it. Not nearly as big or devastating as the one he felt when he thought he'd killed you, but still much more than he's used to.

He sighs, placing the soup on the nightstand beside you. Carefully, he slips into his place behind you, pulling you gently closer and holding you protectively while he waits for you to wake up again.

[ssentimentals]

labels {boo seungkwan}

pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader

prompt: 'i know you don't like labels so can i be your one-and-only-person?'

warnings: none, pure fluff as usual!

seungkwan smiles widely, showing off two huge bags in his hands. before you can ask what is happening and did he buy the whole store, he says: 'i wasn't sure in mood for what you'd be, so i got both salty and sweet things.'

you smile back, shaking your head. sometimes he can be so silly but in the most endearing way that makes your heart feel like it's too big for your chest. you come closer, taking a look at what's inside the bag and cheering at the sight of your favorite chips. 'you are the best! let's go?'

you already secured your favorite spot with the blanket and now when you both sit there, he feels like this is going to the best day. in all honesty, it always feels like day is going to be great if you are in it. he sits next to you, emptying the bags and grinning at your excitement. this place became a home for you two, somewhere to hide from the rest of the world and all the troubles. your friendship blossomed here - quickly and unexpectedly - and seungkwan loved to think that you two have a secret place to go to.

'no way,' you take a look at the snacks he bought and start clapping. 'those are my favorite! i love you, thanks!'

his smile falters a little at the 'i love you' part and seungkwan pretends to be busy on the phone, looking down. you are a very easy-going person and 'i love you' falls from your lips all the time: you say it to strangers who pick up things that fell from your backpack, you say it to your friends when they say goodbye, you say it to the passing dogs or cats. he loves this about you, loves how you don't hide your emotions, loves how your heart is full of love. it's just, he can't help but wonder - is there a place specifically crafted for him there? does your 'i love you' to him means something more? the desire for it to mean something more fills his entire being - he's afraid it might overflow if he won't control it.

'earth to kwannie!' you shake him awake, smiling. 'i took some card games with me, do you wanna take a look?'

'of course!' seungkwan says it a bit too loudly but you don't react.

you start explaining which games you took and he tries to pay attention, he really does but when you decide to lean on him, all of the thoughts turn into a mess. this casual way of you entering his personal space, how you don't even have to think twice or ask him - it makes his heart race knowing how comfortable and safe you feel around him. his whole face is burning and the scent of your shampoo tickles his nose; seungkwan has to physically stop himself from burying his face in your hair, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. you two already act like a couple without being one and he doesn't want to scare you away, not when he knows your stand in this thing. ('i don't like this whole...'boyfriend and girlfriend' thing, you know?' you said, walking with him to the cafeteria. 'i just- i don't like labels i guess? the need to call each other something when you both know how close you are and- i don't know, maybe i'm weird.'). he didn't say anything at that time but then it took seungkwan one whole week to find and read all articles on the topic of 'labels' in order to grasp what you meant and what it meant for him.

('i think she was inwardly telling me to fuck off,' he wailed loudly, leaning on vernon's shoulder. 'god, she really was, right? should i just back off?'

vernon patted his back and shared a look with seokmin who sat on the floor. 'i honestly think she just shared her thoughts,' vernon commented. 'no, seriously boo, i'm not saying that to appease you, i really think so.'

'i agree with vernon here,' seokmin voiced, nodding. 'i actually think..she's done it on purpose? like, so you would know, you know?'

'so i would know,' seungkwan repeated dumbly. 'for what?'

'for when you'll confess, idiot.' vernon rolled his eyes. 'cause you are going to confess, right? at this point i think everyone's waiting for it, including her.'

seungkwan sat up, eyes full of hope. 'you think so?'

'we know so, boo.' seokmin assured him with a gentle smile. 'it's the most natural thing ever for you two.')

natural. seungkwan watches you laugh at the way he's losing the game and thinks that a) you are beautiful, b) he can lose every single game just to hear you laugh and c) he's in too deep to back out now.

'so,' he starts, awkwardly clearing his throat. thinking that he's thirsty you immediately hand him water and he smiles, taking it. 'i wanted to-'

'wait, there's something on your mouth,' you reach out and wipe away few chips crumbs from the corner of his mouth and then sigh when you notice few spots on his t-shirt. 'i love you kwannie, but you're so sloppy sometimes.'

his breath hitches. oh dear god, here we go. 'you love me?' he asks, hating the way his voice comes off high-pitched. natural, my ass.

your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head to the side a little. '...of course i do. even when you are such a sloppy eater.'

right. seungkwan tries to calm his racing heart and speaks slowly: 'do you have spots like this one with anyone else?' you shake your head and he continues: 'so, it's only me. and you love me even when i eat like a pig.'

you look weirded out but he doesn't blame you - he'd be weirded out too but he can't say what he wants any other way. bringing your knees to your chest, you stare at him with worried eyes. 'where this is going, boo? i don't understand.'

'you don't like labels,' seungkwan states and gives you a whiplash with the sudden change of the topics. 'right?'

'yes..' you drift off, confused. 'what this has to do with-'

'considering that information and that i am in love with you, i thought that we-' he swallows before continuing: 'i know that you don't like labels so can i be your one-and-only-person?' you blink in stupor and seungkwan thinks that if he doesn't say everything now then he might never say it: 'i mean, we are so close and you have a secret spot only with me and you love me- i mean, you say that you love me and even though you say that almost to everyone i think when you say it to me it's a bit different - i mean, i'm assuming that it means different and i really want it to be different and - i think that we can be so good together! only with your consent, of course- cause-'

'seungkwan!' you interrupt, reaching out to take his hands in yours.

'yes?' he squeaks, shutting up.

'breathe.' you let out, squeezing his hands.

seungkwan's brain comes to a halt and he exhales, not breaking eye contact with you. 'does that mean that you-'

'just breathe for now, kwannie.' you interrupt again, rolling your eyes at his behavior but not being able to hide a big forming smile on your face. 'that was some speed.'

'yeah?' he asks out of breath, still trembling with a need for your answer.

'yeah,' you chuckle. 'i think vernon raps slower than that.'

you both grin at each other at this and - seungkwan suddenly understands that you already gave him your answer. he sees it in your eyes - how they sparkle, in the way you hold his hands - steady and with all the care, in your smile - how you can't seem to stop it from forming. relief washes over him when you start caressing his skin with you thumbs, smiling gently at him. 'you know, now that your hands are in mine, i feel like the luckiest person to walk the planet.'

'oh for god's sake,' you mutter, leaning forward and hiding your face in his neck.

this time seungkwan doesn't hold back - he leans in, wraps his arm around your waist, pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and it feels just like he thought it would - like the most natural thing in the world. 'so how do we call each other?' he asks, squirming when you tickle him a bit. 'if girlfriend and boyfriend is not it?'

'i like the way it is right now. we don't have to change anything.'

seungkwan nods in agreement. 'you are mine and i am yours one-and-only-person,' he concludes and then looks down at you. he leans in, pecking your nose. 'i like that.'

'i like that too.'

with a startle, seungkwan realizes how easy it is. how everything is easy with you and this is how it's meant to be, natural.

a/n: boo is the cutest! come check out my other works here - nini

tag list: @smalliechelle @jaetaimjadore @yeow6n @pearlygraysky @a-wandering-stay (let me know if you want to be added!)

[uwoo97s]

I’LL PUT A SPELL ON YOU ..

witchboy(?)shotaro ! (poc) florist reader

yandere themes (obsession) , jealousy , delulu taro , ft sungchan & jisung , ji & sung condoning shotaro’s behavior , a brief mentions of chenle , incorrect use of magic spells.

published date/221122

HE REMEMBERED LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY — the first time he saw you. how elegant you looked, how pretty your voice sounded as you spoke nothing but soft words to him. oh how the male wished he could hear you speak to him with such tone for eternity.

but that was only in his deepest dreams, he’d be to shy too say anything of such to you out loud. hoping you could get a hint of his feelings through his gestures, which worked in a way(it didn’t.) ? well, in his mind at least because now you were paying more attention to him.

smiling at him every time he walked into the small tavern of a flower shop, letting him receive a hug each time he brought you the flower tulips from down by the pond just a few miles. though you always instated on how he should leave the flowers for the animals, they would need them more than you anyways.

though he loved everytime you hugged him, he always made sure to hug back, hesitation never appearing from him. he’d nuzzle his face slightly in your hair, just to get a sniff of the lavender shampoo you used, it always made your hair smell so nice he really loved it. his hug would always lingering longer than yours, whenever you were ready to pull away, he only pulled you closer not wanting to let you spill from his grasp, which you though of as his friendly abundant nature.

but for him that wasn’t the case. he just didn’t want to let you go. afraid someone would steal you from him, even if you weren’t his. but in his head you were. he even had a whole future planned out for the both of you.

dreaming of you and him in a small cottage not to far from the village and castle, giving you a small garden so you could still do what you loved, and maybe even having a child or two running around and giggling filling the air. he just knew the both of you could, would be happy together.

..

“it’s completely bizarre! outrageous even! why in the hell would she choose to go out with him?” one could say shotaro was enraged, or in better terms jealous. he found it utterly stupid how you could choose that pathetic man, chenle over him. (though he wasn’t really pathetic, but shotaro just has a too big ego) the male found he was much more attractive and eye appealing than the local knight, he’d admit to that any-day without hesitation.

in your eyes you saw chenle for the charming man he is, (which isn’t in anyway or form a lie.) but for the witchboy, things were rather difficult some would say both knight and witch didn’t get along, that came too be odd and a shock for most local towns folk, including yourself when you’d first heard the news. which happened to be at this very second as sungchan was going on about shotaro , while jisung just stood beside him, nodding or shaking his head and letting small “mhm’s” and “uh-uh’s”. (that put you on edge a bit.)

“so you see.. that’s why our local witchboy seems so upset and hasn’t come to visit you (y/n)” Sungchan spoke aloud , as a ending to his little rant. part of you was still in shock the other, was starting to feel bad. if you’d known that before hand maybe things would’ve been different previously.

you hadn’t truly realized shotaro wasn’t fond of chenle. but now that you knew you really hoped he wouldn’t be too upset about the situation, hoping as your friend he would understand your feelings towards the charming knight.

..

“so.. i hope you can understand my feelings taro.. i wasn’t aware of your dislike towards chenle, honest!” and it was nothing but honesty as you spoke to him, you’re hands touching at the small flower in your hair. you were nervous, you didn’t know why. having never felt this way around shotaro but maybe it was the longing silence that filled the air after telling him how you felt.

“hm.. it’s okay (y/n)” he gave you a smile, though it wasn’t one showing off his pearly white teeth. it was a calm smile, a smile that also made you return one to him. after that he gave you a wave before walking off, making up a excuse lie , about having to be with jisung and sungchan for a quest.

when truly he was going back to his cottage home, to do much more. if he couldn’t get your love the hard way, then he’d just get it the easy way, and put a spell on you.

ALL CREDITS BELONG TO uwoo97s

[nerdieforpedro]

Wash Day

Joel Miller x Layla (plus size OFC)

Fanfiction (all ages)

Masterlist / A03 link / Joel Miller Masterlist / Drops of Sugar Series

Summary: Layla has decided to wash her hair at home today since everyone is out, but she does end up receiving some excellent help.

Warnings: Just fluff and possible badly written southern accent

Notes: I do not look forward to washing my hair but I also don’t feel like paying salon prices. I was very self-indulgent with this. I want Joel Miller to do my hair while he talks to me. 🥰 Like that’s all. Not much. 🤣 I am also convinced that he knows how to care for hair. I saw Sarah's hair. That's all I'mma say. 😏

This is in the same vein as my two part Sugar stories with the same OFC. @legendary-pink-dot gave me a good idea for hair related stories 😝

Sugar part one (I’m your fool Sugar)

Sugar part two (Let me at them Nylons)

Today was a good day for it, Layla decided. It was a Saturday; Joel was working with Tommy on a contracting job that was running into overtime based on their client’s changing tastes. Sarah was out for a good portion for the day due to soccer and then she planned to study at a friend’s house afterward.

The woman stood in front of her mirror and combed out her hair. It wasn’t particularly long, past her shoulders when blown out, but it was extremely thick and sucked up moisture like a sponge, leaving it constantly dry. She removed her night gown and strode into the bathroom and looked to gather her hair products from the little caddy Joel had set up for her. Layla used to keep them under the sink but Joel said he they should be more accessible for her and bought the caddy while he had been out and attempted to organize her hair supplies. She chuckled, reminded of how he always rubs the back of his neck when he isn’t sure about something and she pulled him in for a kiss, reminded yet again at how observant he is.

The water from the shower felt good as she wet her hair and massaged her scalp, repeating the process while shampooing her hair and washing it out after. She let the water flow over her shoulders after applying the conditioner and washing her body. This was the main issue with doing her own hair sometimes, the strain on her shoulders from trying to care for all it, especially the back which she has difficulty reaching. After rising everything off, she stepped out of the shower and towel dried her hair, then wrapped it so the bathroom floor wouldn’t be completely drenched.

The front door closed downstairs; someone had just come home. Maybe Sarah had come early, was the soccer game canceled? She slipped on a simple sleeveless sundress; she didn’t have time for underwear. Heavy steps made their way up the stairs.

No not Sarah.

“Joel, what are you doing home honey?” Layla asked, sitting on the bed, going through her after wash hair supplies box she kept in the closet. Joel stood in the doorway, happy to see her in just a towel on her head. Layla chuckled, “Keep starting Joel. I’m not starting anything while this hair is wet though. I’ll be fit to be tied if it dries and knots up.” The contractor smiled and stood before her and kissed her forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’ looks like I’m rubbing off on ya. Me and my sayin’s.” He grinned. Really, they complemented each other well, Layla had become relaxed her speech some and even picked up a few of Joel’s phrases. Joel had in turn and relaxed slightly, not taking everything so seriously. He looked through her hair box. “Which order you use these in sugar? I can help. Did Sarah’s hair for a bit before Tommy married Maria and Sarah turned her back on her dad.” Layla giggled, Joel would view it that way, she nodded and handed him the detangling spray and a comb.

“I take it you know how to section it out. I have a lot of hair Miller as you well know. I’d like to keep most of it if you don’t mind.” She looked up at him smiling. This was a lot of faith she had in him, she trusted a select few with her hair outside of herself, her hairdresser and her mother, Joel was going to be the fourth if did well. Joel nodded and spayed her hair; he looked in her hair box and found some clips to help divide her hair as he separated it into eight sections. He pointed to the leather chair, and she moved as it was closer to the outlet. Plugging in the hair dryer, he then sprayed the heat protectant on it. Layla sat still she had been anxious but she hadn’t needed to tell him anything, Joel started drying, section by section. The heat and Joel’s large hands running her hair made her sigh. Her feet patted the floor, she was feeling chilled below her shoulders, but it was fine she could deal with a little cold as an exchange for someone else doing her hair.

The Texan smirked as he looked down, more than halfway done with drying, he was also spraying some leave in conditioner after he finished drying. Just on the ends, he knew he would need the grease for her scalp in a bit. After he finished the eight sections, he went over all her hair with the dryer one final time. “Well shit girl, I still got it.” Joel exclaimed, nodding to himself, admiring his work. Layla tipped her chin up to peer at Joel, she laughed.

“I guess you do Joel, but it’s not like you to leave a job unfinished love.” She reached up to grab his hand and pulled it to her lips, kissing the back of it. It smelled like the guava spray he had just used on her hair. “You’re almost done Miller.” Joel leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“S’alright sugar. I got ya.” Joel put down the dryer and reluctantly pulled his hand back. Lalya brought her chin back down and faced forward. The older Miller brother spooned out a handful of a green hair food, commonly called grease. It didn’t feel too dissimilar grease that Joel used on his tools, he rubbed it between his palms and start kneading her scalp, beginning at the back of her head, and working his way up. The sensation made Layla’s toes curl a bit, his strong fingers massaging the warm flesh beneath her hair, his thumbs worked toward the middle of her head while his other fingers spread outward to the fringes near her ears.

“God bless those hands of yours Joel Miller.” The woman moaned, taking hold of the arm rests of the hair and dug her fingers into the chair, her feet arched as she pressed the balls of her feet into the wooden floor. Joel watched as she was relishing the massage. A soft smile came upon his face. Of course, he loved watching as his love appeared to be getting aroused, but more than that, she was sharing more of herself with him. He knew that they came from very different backgrounds, it was moments like this where they bridged their gaps with their shared experiences. His hands worked his way to the top of her head, and he tied her hair in her usual updo as she preferred it off her neck. Joel wiped the excess spray and grease from her shoulders and neck and touched his lips to her neck. He then used the same town to get the grease off his hands.

“Yer all set Layla honey. Ya gonna recommend me?” He asked coyly, she stood and walked over to the mirror, appraising his work though her head felt ten times better than it usually did. Sugar whipped around, making her dress spin with her, and pointed at Joel, curling her finger to tell him to come hither. He put the supplies back in the box and did as she ruffled his curly brown locks, she leaned up to his nose, then his cheek and then his lips, lingering for a minute, Joel wrapped and arm around her wide waist, squeezing her as he did whenever she was near.

“No. Unless it’s Sarah, I don’t want you doing anyone else’s hair. I’m greedy when it comes to you Joel.” Her hand landed on the pocket of shirt, feeling his heartbeat as she laid her cheek on his chest. “Thank you, I’ve never had a man do my hair before. You have any openings in about two, three weeks tops?” She asked playfully looking up at him, her wide smile, made Joel’s frown at her initial no disappear. He tried not to smile as well, but he knew how infectious it was, the crinkles around his eyes gave him away already.

“I reckon I can make it work in two weeks. I’mma need a deposit from ya though Sugar.” His booming laugh filled the empty house with its echo, another ritual began at the Miller home.

Tag List: @fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @modernperplexity @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @awilderi @deviinci @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forbidden Lessons XXX

Masterlist

I think this will be where the story branches off.

Warnings: noncon, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression, pregnancy and abortion. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

The hamper is empty. You're almost relieved, not wanting to pull on the same clothes as the night before. Instead, you search out a pair of sweats with a drawstring from Bucky's dresser and a light blue shirt. They smell fresh, like fabric softener.

You take your coat from the rack and step into your boots. You look around one last time before you unlock the door, surprised it's so easy.

You follow the hallway in the wrong direction and go back, finding the elevator on your second try. You descend to the lobby and emerge on an unfamiliar street.

You don't know where you are but it can't be that hard to find a pharmacy. You wander down towards the noise of traffic and around the corner.

You stop outside a convenience store and go inside. You could ask there and grab another coffee. You keep yawning and it's making it hard to focus.

The clerk tells you where to go, just a few blocks, as he rings in your drink. You pay, hoping you have enough on your card for what you need. You recite the instructions in your head, something to focus on, something to keep you from thinking even if what you're running from is what has spurred on your venture.

You enter the small pharmacy and walk up the middle aisle. You wait at the pick up window and a woman in a white coat greets you. It's then that you realise, you don't know what you're doing. Laufeyson was the one who got it the first time, so confident, whereas you're terrified.

"Um, can I get..." you sip your coffee as your throat tightens up. It's humiliating, "um, Plan... Plan B? I think that's--"

"You want the brand or the generic? Generic is cheaper."

You're stunned by how simple it is. Ask and ye shall receive. You blink and nod, realising you need to give more than that. "Generic is fine, thank you."

"No problem," she smiles.

She's older, forty-five maybe? Dark hair, natural spiral curls frame her face. She turns and open a tall metal cabinet. She slips the box in a white bag as she comes back to you.

"Have you taken this before, hun?" she asks.

"Uh, yes," you confess.

"And did you have any side effects?"

"Um, well, I felt sick, bled a little," you answer meekly.

"That's all normal but if you get any sever pain or the nausea lasts more than a few days, you should go see a doctor. Anything unusual, you do the same," she advises.

"Alright," you take out your wallet, "um, how much?"

"Eleven dollars," she scans it in.

You pay with the twenty folded behind your library card, a bill for a rainy day, and she gives you change. She staples your receipt to the bag and wishes you a good day. You mirror the suggestion and part from the counter.

You meander along the aisles as you look at the shampoos, the lotions, then wander down along the razors. You don't want to go back just yet. You don't want to face the world. You look down at the white paper bag. You should just take it. Get it over with. You did it before.

You tuck it into your pocket and head towards the front of the shop. You count out your change, just enough for a magazine. You pick out a baking issue along the front and pay for it. An excuse.

Outside, the melting snow recedes to the curb and you avoid the puddles as you set off the way you came. You throw out your mostly empty cup as you turn onto Bucky's street, holding the magazine under your arm. Your heart sinks, you don't have a key to get back in but you might be able to sneak up with someone else.

As you approach, you know you won't be lucky. Bucky's standing outside, pacing like and animal. He sees you as you close in and you hold up the magazine with a weak smile.

"I'm sorry, I needed some nausea medicine then I got a bit distracted," you explain.

"Why would you do that? Why would you leave? Without your phone?" He holds up the sunflower case.

"Bucky, I-- I was going to be quick, I came right back."

"You couldn't tell me? Couldn't send a message? You scared me, I was about to go to the river and--"

You hiccup, holding back tears as your eyes glisten, "I'm sorry, I was just... I forgot to ask before you went and I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't thinking!" His voice makes you quiver, "how--" he stops himself and exhales, "sorry, sunshine, sorry, I was just so worried. Please, let's forget it and go upstairs. I bought you lots of goodies, okay?"

"Mhmm," you murmur and nod, "okay... I'm sorry."

"Come on," he holds out your phone, "it's chilly out here."

You let him lead you inside and onto the elevator. As you enter his apartment, you see the reuseable bags across the floor, bulging with his haul. You put the magazine down before you slide your jacket back and he helps swipe it off your shoulders.

He hangs it, his hand falling down to feel your pocket. Before you can stop him, he slips the white bag out. He brings it up against his chest, tearing it too peek inside. He pales then slowly looks at you.

"What's this?"

You stand, speechless. He knows.

"Why-- Tell me what happened last night."

"Bucky, please," you reach for it and he holds it out of reach.

"Tell me. Was it him?" His voice cracks.

"Yes! Yes! Okay?! It was him. I let him do it. I didn't fight hard enough," you holler and wrap your hand around the package, "and now I have to make sure he leaves me alone forever."

"Sunshine, you could've told--"

"I didn't want to! I don't want to talk about it. I don't ever want to think about it," you back away from him as you clasp the bag, "I want you to leave me alone too! I want to be alone! I want to just disappear and I don't want anyone to ever see me again. Not him, not you, not my mom. No one!"

You turn on your heel and scurry away, boots tramping loudly down the hall. You veer into the bathroom and slam the door as you hear him follow. You sit against it as he pushes on the other side.

"Sunshine, don't do this. Please let me in," he shifts the door but lets it fall back.

He could open it if he wanted to. He doesn't. He's still playing with you, acting nice when he only wants to control you. He stops and you hear him drag his hand down the wood. Silence as you rip the bag completely open and stare at the box.

"Sunny," he says quietly, bending to speak through the keyhole, "are you going to take it?"

The question hangs above you as you peel back the flap of the box. You stare inside at the packet and the paper insert.

Are you going to take it?

[obeythebutler]

hello hello! first things first is that i have been following your vlog for a long time now and its a must for me to check it at least twice or thrice a day! anyways, can we get mc who dreams of the weirdest things about the brothers? like maybe lucifer had refused to do the paperwork diavolo sent him because he wanted to play with cerberus, mammon who became a stripper for food just for money, satan who fears cats and actually prefers dogs, etc. if its not much of a problem, of course!

MC Has Weird Dreams About The Brothers!

LUCIFER

The first time you told Lucifer of the dreams you had about him, the demon couldn't believe his ears.

"What kind of dreams?" He had asked, with that smirk playing on his lips. The demon wasn't expecting you to narrate about the dream where Diavolo was blowing up his D.D.D. concerning the documents which were past due.

And in which Lucifer ignored the calls in favor of petting Cerebrus. And cried because he didn't have three hands to pet the three good boys.

Certainly, the human exchange student had peculiar dreams.

Dreams should remain dreams only, lest his brothers find out and the next thing the demon knows is that he's drunk and crying because he doesn't have enough hands to pet Cerebrus...

....and the fact that this could happen in reality is even more concerning, but Lucifer won't say it out loud.

MC is going to have to stick with him replying 'So true, bestie 💅' in the chat.

MAMMON

What kind of dreams are you having about him—

The demon gets flustered when you mention dreaming about him. But his expression changes from excitement to bafflement to a constipated one when you mention him working at a strip club, and there's also that dream where he turns over a new leaf and becomes a lot more responsible!

The last one is definetly not happening. Nor is the former. Nope!

One dream was where MC was running away from Mammon, while the demon has outstretched his arms and goes "Why are you running? Why are you running?!"

And baby-talking to his familiars!! Mammon won't say it out loud, but he does that to some of his crows!

(Whose the greatest bird of all time? You are! Yes you! You're great enough to be alongside the Great Mammon!")

One time Lucifer was hot on the demon's heels about another debt received. The mail was overflowing with overdue payments, and you were chilling with your barbecued zebra.

"You know, I had a dream where he payed all his debts and you were the one with overdue payments, Lucifer."

LEVIATHAN

Him?? Being a normie?? And a bully?? Participating in normie activities?? Not a chance!

When MC recites how Levi removed all the posters and his precious figurines from his room and turned it into something else, the demon could bear no more! Ruri-Chan for all his demon life!! No one is going to steal her away!

You sit besides Levi while he games, and leaning your head on his arm casually mention how Henry 2.0 was replaced with a racoon.

Your dreams are some serious crack material, MC. Some that Levi himself posts in the group, and then it's a whole circus.

But confident Levi makes him wonder too. Perhaps, if he's a wee bit more assertive then maybe MC would like him more...?

SATAN

Dreams have diverse meanings. Representation of dreams, one's hopes, failures and longings. Flying, falling and—

Him?? Fearing cats and liking dogs?? Mushing over Cerebrus?? Look MC he likes all animals but he could never hate cats look at those paws and ears and—

Though MC's dreams are weirdly hilarious to imagine sometimes. Like Lucifer turning into a peacock and trying to seduce Lord Diavolo. That's going right in the group with an edited picture of Lucifer's face on a peacock.

He's the one asking you to maintain a dream diary, for research purposes, of course. And if the demon is right on time to wake you up with a drink, he'll share a chuckle with you over your latest weird dream.

You have the most absurd of dreams, but maybe some of them can be brought to life? Maybe mixing some hair removal cream into Lucifer's shampoo? Putting googly eyes on all his things?? So many ideas😏

ASMODEUS

So we're having dreams, aren't we? Of course you would dream about him! His beauty is so captivating that it follows into one's dreams too.

What do you mean he's all dirty and has horrendous fashion sense. That simply won't do! Oh no! He's not becoming Satan with his choice of clothes!

(Asmo, to Satan at one point: "Wear your clothes properly, hon."

Not in his wildest dreams!

You once mentioned while the demon was painting your nails about the dream you had where he threw hands with a wall because it insulted his earrings.

Your dreams are certainly the weirdest, and yet Asmodeus finds himself listening in some sort of macabre fascination. His head hurts because of some, but the others are simply too alluring to let pass.

"What if we all were birds? Lucifer would be peacock and Mammon crow, but you'd be a secretary bird, Asmo."

"Secretary bird? Was that another dream of yours?"

BEELZEBUB

When you tell him about a dream of yours, the demon is in the middle of chewing a giant fried gargoyle burger.

Beel doesn't exercise anymore. He's as thin as a stick, and his behind doesn't pass the cake check test. All that muscle gone...(but I will slap his behind, no matter what 😤)

Jk, it's right there for you to smack, MC. Give his behind a nice slap but be beware of not breaking your hand.

Beel has seen the potential you reciting your dreams at the breakfast table has. It almost always leads to more schemes being planned in the Anti-Lucifer League.

So when the demon sees chaos causing due to them, he ensures you're safe from the shenanigans. No one wants shaving cream in their shampoo bottle.

"You know, I had another weird dream."

Beel nods, signalling for MC to continue.

"Okay so it goes like this. Hi my name's Derek welcome to—"

BELPHEGOR

This man dreams of sleeping even when he's asleep. But sometimes he has some of the weirdest dreams when Belpheghor puts in the effort.

When you mention at the table about having a dream where Belpheghor became surprisingly nice and hugged Lucifer, while referring to him as "my lovely eldest brother❤️," the demon shuddered.

He can't imagine Lucifer being all gooey and warm with him, and neither can he.

The demon isn't awake for most of the time. His sin compels him to sleep, and when he's asleep he has fun with it when the mood strikes. Belphegor enters your dreams, and when you both wake up the rest of the brothers wonder why he won't look them in the eye without snickering.

"What's the matter, Belphie?"

"Belphegor stop laughing and at least don't fall in your soup—"

[teaberrii]

Chapter 3: The Climb (Love Blues)

You're both running from a traumatic past. In a fated mix-up, you end up hosting this man for two weeks at your family-owned villa where sparks start to fly.

Alhaitham/You

Notes: Cross-posted on Ao3.

The chapter index is at the end of chapter one.

Alhaitham is an early riser. That’s a fact you wish you knew before he knocks on your door at five in the morning. You had told him to get up early for the hike the night before, but you weren’t expecting him to be this early. He’s dressed in a dark tank and shorts with a pendant around his neck. It’s a simple outfit that’s strangely attractive.

“Morning.”

Oh, geez. And then there’s that smile. You open your door a little wider. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” you ask, half-jokingly. “Maybe I should’ve been more specific.”

“Sorry, but I want to ask if I could use your kitchen.”

“Er, go ahead. But, why?”

“Why else? Breakfast, of course.”

Hang on. Is he willing to make you breakfast? Or are you dreaming? You’re suddenly wide awake. “Wait. Shouldn’t I be the one making you breakfast? I mean, you’re still paying to stay here. At least, isn’t that what we agreed on last night?"

“Does it matter?” he asks kindly. “It looks like you still want to sleep. I’m up already, so why not?” This man is full of surprises. “Should I take your silence as a yes?”

"Well, I can't stop you... But, I was thinking of buying something.”

Alhaitham puts a hand on your door. “Well, save the money.” You get a whiff of his shampoo, and you look away as if his scent has you unable to look him in the eyes. “I guess I’ll see you in a bit.”

Finally, you look up to see him walking away. You lean against your doorframe and cross your arms. Well, let’s see what he’s got.

When you’re downstairs, you get a whiff of a bread-like smell. Pancakes? You walk into the kitchen and see Alhaitham bring two plates to the counter. When he sees you, he says, “That was fast.”

“It’s not every day I have someone cook for me.”

You sit on a chair, and he sits beside you as he passes you a drink to go with your breakfast. “You live alone?”

For three years. “I do." As you cut into the pancake, you say, "Not everyone is as lucky as you to have such a kind roommate."

Alhaitham catches the playful tone and says, "Oh, you wouldn't be saying that if you met him."

You laugh. "Harsh, aren't we?"

"That's considered harsh?"

A small moment of silence passes as the pancakes on your plate disappear. Finally, Alhaitham notices as he glances from your plate to you. “...I take it that it’s good?”

“Do you want the truth?”

He smiles slightly. “Are my feelings going to get hurt?”

“It’s not half bad. Maybe you should open a bed and breakfast one day.”

“That would probably be tough.”

You swallow the pancake in your mouth and cut the rest into pieces as you ask, “Why?”

“I only cook when I’m interested.”

You don’t want to overthink, but what does he mean by that? Interested… in what? When he feels like it?

“Do you cook for your roommate?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer your question. But, you swear you see a slight smile tug on his lips before it’s gone.

You and Alhaitham are out the door before the crack of dawn. You’re walking side-by-side when he asks, “Should I be afraid that you’re not telling me where this hiking trail leads?”

You stop at a bus stop where a few others are waiting. “Well, if you don’t come back, at least there are witnesses.” But, to give him some peace of mind, you take out a map of the area and show him the trail you plan on taking him on. He puts his hand just above yours on the map as you talk. Then, you look to your right and realize how close he is.

Then, without warning, he turns to you, and you're staring into his green eyes.

Your grip on the map tightens unexpectedly. Your heart races as he’s inches away from your face. The scent of his shampoo, although faint, is suddenly overwhelming.

The last time your heart raced for a man was your ex-husband, the only person who made your heart flutter and mind go blank. He had been your first and only in everything. You were childhood sweethearts, and you relied on him. Perhaps a little too much. So, when you finally uttered those three words, your world shattered into a million pieces.

So, what is it about Alhaitham that has you so intrigued? You’ve seen guys like him. You even went on a couple of blind dates courtesy of your friends after your divorce. But none of them are like him. None of them reminded you more of yourself than this man beside you. How are you so sure? Because his eyes look like yours.

There’s something about you that Alhaitham can’t put his finger on. It’s the banter, he thinks. But he knows it started before that. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight; it’s silly.

Yet, he couldn't look away when he saw you on the train. Perhaps it’s your eyes—one of intrigue and curiosity. But, there’s also something else. Lonely. Broken. Damaged. There’s no spark in your eyes like what he saw with most people. But, oddly enough, he saw himself in you. Someone who’s barely above water and is doing everything they can to survive.

He’s curious, and he only wants to study whatever interests him.

◆◆◆

You stretch and take a deep breath when you reach a small mountain peak. Alhaitham isn’t far behind. You see the sea in the distance and a large and small fishing boat sailing on the water. A far-off island is barely visible, but you can still make out its turtle-like shape. It’s the perfect day for swimming, and that’s exactly what some people are doing below underneath the hot sun and bright blue skies.

You and Alhaitham sit next to each other, enjoying a well-deserved break. As he puts his drink down, he glances at you. “So, how’d you discover this place?”

“Actually, it was my brother."

You needed to sit. Your legs were killing you, and your lungs felt like they were on fire. It took one hike to realize how out of shape you were. Your brother had to jog back to check up on you.

“We’re almost there!”

You shielded the sun from your eyes as you looked up at the never-ending mountain trail. He had been saying that for thirty minutes, so you gave him a deadpan look. “Are you saying that so I won’t turn back?”

“No, really. Trust me. You’ll love the view.”

You groaned loudly as your brother grabbed your wrist and tugged you along.

“It was worth it in the end,” you say, looking at the view. “But, I had to hit him a few times just to get it out of my system.”

“Sounds like you have a good relationship with him.”

“What about you?” You turn to him. “Any siblings?”

“Only child.” He takes another swig of water. “Sometimes I wished I had a sibling, though.”

You look at him with a smile. “Well, you have that roommate of yours.” Alhaitham scoffs quietly with a slight grin. “Your parents must’ve spoiled you then.” Of course, you meant it as a joke, but when you see his smile disappear, you instantly regret it. Did you say something you shouldn’t have said?

“My grandparents were the ones who mostly raised me.” Alhaitham twists the cap on the bottle shut and puts it down. “My parents were away a lot for work.”

“It sounds like they would have a lot of interesting stories to tell.”

“You’re right… but travelling also has its dangers.” He looks in the distance. “...They got into an accident abroad.”

Your smile instantly vanishes. “...I’m so sorry.”

Alhaitham looks at you with a gentle smile. “Still, they influenced me a lot, despite their absence. It was always exciting to hear about their adventures. But, I’d like to stay in one place for work, at least for the most part.”

“I can relate to that.” You lean back and spread your hands out behind you. “I had no idea what I wanted to do after I graduated… but I knew I didn’t want to be jetting off somewhere new every few months. Sounds kind of odd compared to what most people are into nowadays.”

“Everyone has their preference. There’s no right way to live.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “True." A pause. "Then, I went to grad school."

“What made you go, if you don't mind my asking.”

“Just go back to school.” As you watched your husband slip on his coat, ready to head off to work for the day, your heart sank. He looked over his shoulder. “You like to study, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

He suddenly kissed your head. “Let’s talk more when I get back, okay?”

Before you could say anything, he was out the door. But it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it. You were already doing your research on graduate programs in psychology, but it was what you wanted out of it. Sure, you loved the subject, but studying didn’t pay the bills. You occasionally mentioned it to your husband, but his response was always, “You should just do what you like.”

While it was initially a nice response, it soon became one that got on your nerves. Was he really listening to you?

“...I enjoyed the subject a lot.”

If Alhaitham has a hunch that there’s more to the story, he doesn’t ask. Instead, he says, “That definitely makes studying easier. I can never concentrate on anything I don’t like.”

Your look turns skeptical. “You look like the type of person that got straight A’s without even trying in school.”

Alhaitham chuckles softly. “Do I? Well, at least I make a good impression.”

You roll your eyes. “I know I would’ve hated you,” you say jokingly.

“...Then, maybe it’s good we didn’t meet until now.”

You don’t want to overthink that statement. It can be interpreted in various ways, and you don’t want to drive yourself crazy. But, regardless, it makes you smile, and that’s all that matters. As soon as Alhaitham sees you smile, he does too.

Then, you look at the time on your watch. “We should get going if we want to make it back before sundown.”

As he follows you with the empty bottle in hand, he says, “Hm, an evening hike doesn’t sound so bad.”

You look over your shoulder. “So does a nice hot bath. I don’t know about you, but I know which I would pi—ah!”

Your fall is fast, but Alhaitham is faster. His tight grip on your arm stops you from falling forward. Then, he slowly pulls you towards him. “Careful,” you hear him whisper. Your mind tells you not to, but your heart says yes. You turn to him, meet his eyes, and hear your heart thump loudly in your chest. He lets you go. “I’ll lead this time.”

“...Be careful.”

He looks back and smirks, “Just take care of yourself.”

◆◆◆

Alhaitham is in the shower that night when the fire alarm suddenly goes off. With a towel wrapped around his lower half, he rushes out and sees a cloud of smoke in the kitchen. You had just turned off the alarm and waved the smoke away when he approached you.

“What happened?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—” Holy moly. The water droplets that run down his bare, toned torso are a sight for the eyes. You pry your gaze away to look at his worried face. “I, uh, I was trying to make us dinner.”

“By setting the place on fire?” he asks with an amused grin.

You look away sheepishly. “...It’s the thought that counts.”

Alhaitham stands in front of you now, and you’re fighting every nerve in your body not to look down. Then, finally, he takes the spatula from you. “...Let me finish my shower, and I’ll make something for the both of us.”

“Or… we could go out and buy something.”

When he smiles mischievously, your fingers start rubbing against your palm. What is he planning? Suddenly, he leans closer. “Or… I could give you a cooking lesson.”

Your bottom lip slightly curls inwards. “For free?”

He steps toward you. You would be staring straight into his chest if you weren't looking up. “What do you think?”

You’re sure of it now. He’s flirting with you. And you’re enjoying every minute of it.

Chapter Four

Tag List: @suoshiii @lordbugs

[novasdarling]

You're Mine, Clear?

TW: Rough sex, mentions of violence, tears, chocking, yandere behaviour, female reader, kidnapping/hostage sort of.

Life hadn’t changed largely, at least in the sense of your location. You still lived in your apartment, you were allowed outside. You weren't permitted to work anymore, but Feitan took care of your financials. The largest change for you was when he was home. He tended to be controlling, limiting your activities, he wanted you home when he was. He made demands that you entertain him. When he was around he insisted on being your top priority and god forbid it if he felt like he wasn’t. His anger was something you wanted to avoid, you had been on the receiving end of it once and it scared you. That was the first time you had been truly scared of Feitan and you swore you’d never do anything to pull that out of him ever again.

It was the end of the month, meaning that Feitan should be coming home soon. He hadn’t given you a direct date, just said he’d be back at the end of the month. You knew he would want to come home to a nice clean house, good meals, and more importantly to you being by his side at every moment. The next few days you spent cleaning, grocery shopping and making sure your schedule will be clear. After a long day of running around town to make sure you had everything, you arrived home. It was such a long day and the scorching heat outside didn't help, you were exhausted when you arrived home. All you wanted to do was put everything away, take a shower and just crash. Dumping the food in the kitchen, you got to work putting things away not bothering to turn on all the lights, just the ones for the kitchen. You didn't think to tun on the living room lights when you walked in. All you wanted to do was put the groceries away and maybe even shower before you rested. That was a mistake you would later realize.

The darkness masked his presence, he was waiting to reveal himself to you. Picking to watch you first, wondering why you hadn't notice his presence. He wasn't trying to hide. It angered him a bit to see you so focused on your task and not paying attention to your surroundings. You were an idiot to him right now, he thought he had at least trained you to realize when you weren't alone. Apparently he was wrong, he hadn't trained you very well at all.

After you were done, you moved into the bedroom, stripping your clothes off and making your way towards the bathroom. The shadow you were ignorant of was still watching, still following you around. You had only kept the kitchen light on, enjoying the contrast of the semi-darkness now compared to the blinding sun outside. He watched as your grabbed a towel and turned the shower on. It would be a lie to say he wasn't still hiding to be able to watch you. Hoping you would completely shut the door when you went into the bathroom. Allowing him to slowly slip in behind you to watch.

The shower felt nice, the cool water felt so good against your sore and hot body. You were vulnerable and so focused on the water hitting your skin you hadn’t realized he decided to join you in your shower. First he just watched as the water slid across your body. It would be a lie if Feitan didn't acknowledge how amazing you looked standing there. When your ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get it wet enough before shampoo. This feeling annoyed him, he wanted you, but despised that he did. His arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to jump trying to turn around only to be stopped by him.

“Shh. It’s me.” You tried to relax against him. Feeling his naked body pressing against yours.

“I-I didn’t realize you were home yet. Thought maybe you were coming home later.” Feitan let out a low laugh, pressing his forehead against the back of your head. He could hear the fear in your voice.

“Home early.”

It was rare that Feitan was soft with you. This was nice, he was being nice. It was rare you got a softer side of him, one that didnt involve harsh stares or harden hands. You could melt into him now. Let his touch and the cool water relax you. Yet, as soon as his softness arrived, it left. His arms suddenly tighten. Being nice was over.

“I was here early afternoon.” He squeezed tighter. “You were gone.” Tighter. “Why? Where” You tried to respond, trying to explain in-between breaths.

“I-I thought, I th-thought I had longer. I was grocery s-shopping.” His arms loosened and he waited for you to continue. “I wanted to get your favourite food and everything.”

Feitan completely relaxed against you. Choosing instead of squeezing you impossibly tight to kissing the back of your neck. It seemed your answer had satisfied him.

“Good girl.”

His hands began to roam, trailing all over your body.

“You were out. They saw you."

You didn’t need to question who they were. You knew he meant the public, strangers. In his eyes, you being separate from him while he was out of work meant that you were giving yourself to the public instead of to him. He wanted you to himself and he’d kill to insure it. Like he had with that pesky past partner of yours. Then there was the grocer at the store who always seemed too friendly with you. They were just getting in the way, stopping you from coming to him. You weren't made to be ogled by the public. No, you were made to be looked upon by only him. Eventually, he'll find a way to insure that.

Feitan let you finish your shower. Walking around the apartment in his towel. Analyzing it, looking at the way you always cleaned for him, how you did get his favourite foods. You were so different from him, you were so kind and loving even when people didn’t deserve it. He felt almost unworthy of your love, but he wouldn't change his actions. In his find, he had won you. Stolen you for himself and therefore able to do what he please with you. Feitan felt owed almost due to the harshness of his life. Owed something soft, sweet, different from him and you were so different. So tender and caring. Everything he wasn't.

You got out of the shower and finished your routine before going to find him. You knew he was going to want to have his way for the next few nights until he had his fill. He had never striked you as a sexual being in the beginning. Barely touching you, only staring as if he was waiting for you to do something wrong. Now though, he was different. He wanted you any chance you got and as you walked into the bedroom to see him laying there on the bed. You knew this was one of those times.

Feitan had pulled you onto the bed with him, placing you on top. Staring into your eyes until you got flustered. Both of you stayed there for a bit. Enjoying the silence for a bit.

“Good little pet.”

His voice sounded so sweet, loving even. Even if he did really see you as his little pet. Something that belongs to it's master. Just his little pet to take care of cause you could never survive without him. He was twisted in his view of you. Something he never bothered to hide.

The night was going to be filled with whatever Feitan wanted, whatever he had missed these last few weeks while he was away. He would never truly admit it, but he did miss you when he was off with the troupe or doing his own work. Not just your body, but all of you. Your smile, your laugh, your company. He spent his nights alone thinking of you. Imagining you, you enjoy your books out on the balcony. Out under the sun, the light hitting your face so beautifully. The way you always asked for his help with everything. Needing help lifting something, with opening jars. Marvelling at how precious you were. How vulnerable you looked when you were under him. The noises you made. How you moaned his name like it was the only thing you knew to say. The only thing that mattered and to him, when he was in these moments you were the only thing that mattered to him. While all of these memories came flooding back into his mind, he suddenly switched positions. You were now under him, he was pinning both of your wrists with one of his hands.

“Miss me?”

Before you could even answer him, he crashed his lips against yours. Giving up on being gentle once he remembered how nice it was to have you beg for him. He wanted it now, he wanted you weak underneath him. You had nodded to his question.

“I always do.”

Feitan buried his face in your neck. He inhaled. Everything about you had him going, had him craving you. He was truly pathetic when it came to you. A part of him that he didn't like you to see too often.

“I know.”

Feitan was trying to get you undressed. Releasing your hands in favour of stripping you down. Letting his hands linger when he was removing the pair of pyjamas you had decided to slip on after the shower. Especially across your waist and hips. Admiring your body with both his eyes and his hands. He wanted you, wanted you so badly. It was like he was fighting with himself about stripping you down. Wanted you naked fast, but also enjoying himself. Teasing both you and himself. All you could do was lay there and enjoy his tenderness. Moaning when he brushed against your cunt while removing your bottoms.

Once he had you stripped he was unable to hold himself back. Feitan pulled his towel off, wasting no time before getting his hands back on your body. You found yourself once again pinned down by him. Patience wasn't something he had acquired when it came to you. Unfortunately, leading to your discomfort at times like this. He was solely focused on you, on having you. Burying himself in you as fast as he could. Feitan forced himself in you, he could tell it hurt by the face you made. Your face was scrunched up, your eyes were shut tight. It was a sick bliss to see you like this. A mix of pain and pleasure because of him. He took pity and tried not to move too much or too fast was he bottomed in you. Eventually, it would go away, he just had to fuck you good enough.

The pain was slowly fading away as you began to get wetter. It was becoming enjoyable for you now. Though by Feitans noises he had been enjoying himself the moment he entered you. Once he realized the pain had mostly gone for you, he began to lose himself. Letting himself go, not holding back anymore. He was fucking you harder than he had in a while. One hand pinning both of yours down. The other holding himself up. Feitan took your comfort as a sign to move you into the positions he wanted. Grabing your legs and hoisted them to hang over his shoulders. Your knees were against your chest. He was getting deeper and deeper. Fucking you into the mattress. It still hurt a bit, but the pleasure was taking over.

“Fuck.”

He was barely able to get his words out. All that you could hear was grunt and moans from him. Without warning you felt Feitan’s hand that was holding yours down move. Sliding down around your neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. Breathing was becoming harder, the words to tell him to stop weren’t able to come out. Looking up with pleading eyes at him, you were met with a feral look on him. A look that told you if you didn’t let him have his fun, that he would take it and then punish you later. You tried to shut your eyes hoping to get rid of his face that was scaring you. Your eyes were beginning to water up, tears spilling down your cheek. Hoping he would loosen your grip seeing you tear up. Instead of mercy Feitan mouth was on you, licking up your cheeks. Enjoying how your tears tasted, and how he could get them to fall so easily.

The night didn't stop the first time he finished. He was craving you, needing you over and over. Panting and moaning in your ear every time. Positioning you in various positions, trying to get as deep as possible. You let him have his way, enjoying the pleasure when he slipped a hand down to play with your clit. Moaning against your skin when you clenched against him. Although this was mainly for him, after being away and riling himself up at the thought of you around others. Feitan was making sure you enjoyed yourself too. He wanted you to want him just as much as he wanted you.