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jinkiezzsstuff · 7 months ago

Note

Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?

Hope you have a nice day

-🌸🦇

BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!

i’m actually really happy with how this turned out

warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read

5.1K words

Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.

Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.

You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.

Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.

It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.

Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.

So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy

Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.

Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.

“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?

“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.

The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.

You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?

It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.

The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.

With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.

You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.

“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”

Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.

You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.

“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.

“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.

“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.

“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.

The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.

Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.

With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.

His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.

Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.

Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.

Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.

Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.

The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.

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twisted-writing · 9 months ago

Text

To the point of exhaustion (part 2)

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For @naroshinozaki

Who asked: Could you please do the fainting trope, but with the vicedorm leaders?

Have a nice day and take care of yourself!!!

( ↀДↀ)✧

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POV: Third Person

Characters: Vice dorm leaders, Dire Crowley (mentioned), gender neutral!reader

Pairing: Vice dorm leaders x gender neutral!reader (separate)

Warnings: angst, mentions of being overworked, fainting, lack of sleep, Dire Crowley slander

Note: For this I’ve decided to exclude Ortho.

Word Count: 979

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It was yet another unbirthday party in Heartslabyul and Trey Clover, the dorm’s vice dorm leader would normally be enjoying the celebration with everyone else in the dorm but instead, he was in his bedroom cuddling with y/n.

“I’m sorry that you’re missing the unbirthday party because of me, Trey.”

“Don’t worry, there will be plenty more of them.” He assured them in a soft tone. “You just focus on getting the rest you need.”

They had confessed that they hadn’t been getting as much sleep, due to the headmaster and the way he piled more and more onto their plate and how overwhelming it was for them and how close they were to burning out.

And how all they wanted was just to sleep. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

And Trey had decided to give them that.

It was clear that the headmaster certainly wouldn’t.

“Don’t worry, Riddle assured that he’ll make sure that there’s something for us when you wake up.”

“Thank you, Trey. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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“…Ruggie?”

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

“Yeah. What time is it?”

Ruggie checked his phone briefly for the time. “It’s four p.m.”

“You let me sleep all day?!”

“Yes. You could hardly stand. You needed the rest.”

“But what about the lessons? The assignments I missed?”

“You can borrow my notes. As for the assignments, you don’t have to worry, Crewel and Trein will let you make them up.”

“But the headmaster…”

“He had to go one day without his free therapist. The world has come to an end.” Ruggie’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “He’ll live. I care more about you and your health and I know that you would be hungry when you woke up.” As if on cue, y/n’s stomach growled and Ruggie handed them the food he had come back with from the cafeteria. “The ghosts were more than happy to make this for you. Your favorite.”

The hyena felt his cheeks turn pink when suddenly kissed his lips. “What was that for?”

“That was thank you, for being the best boyfriend ever.”

“Yeah, well, I love you.”

“Love you more, Ruggie.”

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“Are you feeling better, my pearl?”

“Yes, I am, Jade.” It was currently after hours in the Mostro Lounge, the smooth jazz was playing softly and with the ambiance of the Lounge, it created the perfect atmosphere for y/n to relax. Especially after the week they had, no one deserved it more than them. “Thank you.”

When his pearl had arrived at the lounge, looking quite dead on their feet, as if they would faint at any moment, Jade wasted no time in leading y/n to their favorite seat in the lounge, he had gently coaxed the reason why they were so exhausted.

The headmaster, it seemed, did not know the meaning of restraint.

Jade would not hesitate to remind him.

“Of course.” He gave y/n one of his rare smiles, not the kind of smile that was used to intimidate, but the kind that gave him a softer appearance. “I would do anything for you.”

He would let Azul deal with that.

———————————————————————

“Thanks for letting me hide out in Scarabia, Jamil, and for letting me borrow your hoodie. I just needed some peace and quiet for once, you know?”

Out of everyone, Jamil knew what it was like to feel overwhelmed and under pressure. Being the vice dorm leader of Scarabia and having to watch over Kalim was not an easy thing. “Yeah, I get it. Trust me.” At least with Kalim, he allowed Jamil some time to himself and let him do things that would let him unwind.

Unlike the headmaster.

It was why y/n had made their way to Scarabia.

And it was during one of the rare times where Scarabia wasn’t having a party so they could spend time with Jamil, at Kalim’s assurance that everything was fine, and that today was a relaxation for everyone in the dorm anyway.

And if anyone needed to relax the most, it was y/n and Jamil.

“Don’t worry. We can just be lazy and not have to worry about anything.”

————————————————————

Underneath the big tree in the woods behind Night Raven College, on a picnic blanket, y/n and Rook sat together, enjoying the breeze, the shade from the tree, and the occasional chirp from the birds as they flew overhead.

“How are you feeling, mon cher? Better?”

“Yes, I’m feeling better, Rook. Thank you. I really appreciate that you set this up for me.”

The vice dorm leader of Pomefiore kissed y/n’s hair. “Your health and safety matters most to me.”

“Vil doesn’t need you for anything?”

“Roi du Poison told me that we can take all the time we need. And I plan to spend the entire day spoiling you.”

Rook’s smile widened when y/n’s giggled reached his ears.

——————————————————————————

Father, will y/n be all right?”

In Diasmonia’s lounge, y/n slept peacefully on the couch with the fire going in the fireplace. “Of course, Silver.” His smile was tight. “They’ll be fine.”

“The headmaster overworked them too much. Do you think he knows? Or that he just doesn’t care?”

Lilia was sure that it was both. “I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I’m going to make sure that y/n recovers.”

“You really love them, father.”

“With everything that I am.”

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piratefishmama · 1 year ago

Text

Angel | Steddie Oneshot

Eddie Munson never believed that he’d go to Heaven. Sure he’d been raised in a catholic household, his uncle was religious, he’d been raised to give thanks for the food they ate, to pray before bed that should he not wake, his soul the lord take an all that jazz.

Wouldn’t believe it to look at him, to hear the songs he sang, the music he played. Wouldn’t believe how he’d been raised if one were to go by covers instead of contents.

But despite his upbringing in the very catholic Munson Trailer of Forest Hills Trailer Park, he never believed he’d go to heaven. Something about queers and submitting to sin and blah blah blah it’d been a long-ass time since his last confession, but Uncle Wayne stopped reminding him a few years back, so he had an excuse to keep ‘forgetting’ to do it.

Turns out, one did not need to go to confession to make it to heaven!

Angels would just. Turn up, apparently.

Maybe he’d done something good that he wasn’t aware of, he did go to that Make A Wish thing a few weeks back, DM’d a whole one shot for the kids, he’d spent hours there, a whole dang day just… hanging out with sick kids.

Maybe that was it. Maybe that was what brought this heavenly creature to his side.

To cut a long story short, he was on stage one minute, belting out the lyrics from the final verse of the last song in their set ‘Into the Underdark’, Jeff was slipping into the ending guitar solo, Eddie was gearing up for an end of gig crowd surf and the next.

The next he was looking into a bright, blinding light that kept moving between his eyes.

He’d always been told not to go to the light. If you see it? Don’t go to it, going to it would make whatever trip you were going on a one way ticket, there was no going back when you reached that light. Just hang back, wait for the resuscitation, it’d happen, someone would breathe life back into you, or whack you with enough voltage to get that heart kickin again, just don’t go into that light.

That light was way too close to his eyes, and he couldn’t swat it away. His arms felt tied down. Rude.

And then the light was gone, had he reached it? Was that it? One way ticket stub punched, sorry Earth, Munson out. “Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” Oh what heavenly chorus, the light had momentarily blinded him but shit… when his sight came back, at least enough to make out the vague shape of a very square jaw, of angular features, of warm hazel eyes, and a luscious head of hair surrounded by a halo of brilliant white light.

Angel. He had an audience with an Angel. It could only be an Angel. Neat.

He’d enjoy the ‘I Told You So’ he got from his uncle whenever the old goat made it up there he hoped it wouldn’t be soon though, he’d prefer a longer wait than a short one, thanks.

“Mnn… I hear you big boy, are you sure I’m in the right place though? I’ve been told Heaven wouldn’t want me” it sounded smooth in his head, but he was pretty sure he slurred half the words.

How could he have a slurred voice in Heaven? That didn’t seem fair.

Oh he’d forgive the slurred speech bit if the angel kept making that wonderful music with his vocal chords, that little giggle of a laugh, so bubbly and sweet, yep. Somehow he’d weaselled his way into Heaven. Suck it soccer moms. “Well, at least you can summon the strength to be charming.”

He was charming? An angel thought he was charming? Hell yeah, he’d rock this heaven shit, he already had an in with the big, winged boys!

“I can summon the strength for other stuff too, worship ain’t ever really been my thing but, baby I think I can learn for a literal Angel” he’d subject himself to an afterlife on his knees gladly if it meant he’d have his hands curled around this creature’s thighs, his mouth on—

“Oh wow…” Eddie couldn’t really see it properly thanks to the lovely blinding spots in his eyes that was no doubt his eyes adjusting to heavenly light, but he was sure his angel was blushing, he sounded a little breathless. Good. “You’re uh… wow”

Eddie hadn’t had much charm before becoming world famous but, he’d gained a little experience. Women and men alike throwing themselves at him, knowing he wasn’t all that fussed, babes were babes. All genders welcome to hop on and take a ride. He knew it was mostly the fame, he was still the same nerd he’d been back in high school, but… if fame got him laid then fame got him laid.

At the very least it gave him the experience to flirt with one of Gods pretty little birds. Maybe even score if the reaction he got was any indication.

So much for lust being a punishable sin, huzzah.

Steve was having a day. Okay no, Steve was having a whole week. The only upside to his overtime riddled ass, was that Robin had been on the majority of his shifts with him, so they could at least talk in the ambulance while they roamed the streets waiting for chaos to drop.

Monday, it’d been a seven car pileup on the highway, a few lost limbs, no fatalities but one hell of a close call on two accounts.

Tuesday, it’d been a tumble at a care home resulting in a popped hip and some heavy flirting from a few old ladies. Poor Robin suffering it from a few old men trying to shoot a shot they didn’t have.

Wednesday it’d been crisis after crisis resulting in him not finishing his shift until six hours after he was meant to finish his shift.

Thursday he had one blessed night off, thankfully his on-call status hadn’t dragged him in, and he got a decent six hour nap in.

Friday, another car wreck, he didn’t want to think about that one.

And now Saturday.

Dispatch sent them to the sold out arena, some idiot had leapt off the stage likely for a crowd surf, his foot tangled in an amp chord, it reduced his air time dramatically and he brained himself on one of the guard rails.

Excellent. At least he wasn’t dead.

Which given how easily one could wind up six feet under from such a whack to the head, he was lucky.

They parked by the side exit, shuffled in by security, and right through into the arena. The patient hadn’t been moved as per dispatchers instructions to the person who’d called. No moving the idiot until the professionals arrived and determined it safe.

Cameras, flashing lights, big beefy security guards standing in front of them blocking the majority of what was happening from view, there was… quite a bit of blood there. It didn’t look pretty in that lighting. “The crowd’s too much, let’s get him to the ambulance.” Robin’s patience didn’t exist when it came to large crowds.

Too many people. Plus she’d been on shift five hours longer than he had.

“Alright, you two, c’mere” Steve singled out two of the big security guys “we’re gonna need you to help us get him onto the gurney, we’ll look him over in the back of the ambulance.” There were no broken bones, nothing stopping them from moving him just enough to get him to the ambulance unscathed.

And then, somewhere between writing out paperwork, checking vitals, and Robin googling who this guy was, said guy… woke up.

Steve, being closer, was quick to check responsiveness, pupils reacted well to light although a concussion did look likely, they’d cleaned up the blood and found the cause to be a cut just above his left eyebrow that’d probably make a kickass scar and oh.

Without the blood. Oh. Oh he was pretty. Pretty plump lips, long lashes, deep brown eyes, faint freckles across his nose. All that hair. He was pretty.

“Mr Munson? Can you hear me?” He’d asked, while shining that little torch into those pretty brown eyes, left to right to check the responsiveness. And then he spoke and Steve— well. Robin was eyeballing him judgementally pretty damn hard given how fast his face flamed red.

Her head in her hands, her fingers plugged into her ears as Munson rattled off promises of worship and good lord— Steve didn’t know what to say, what to do, what does one do when a hot yet slightly delirious rockstar offers to worship your ‘angelic body’?

What does one do with that?

One awkwardly stutters through thanks while bright red and toasty until they can part with the guy at the ER wishing he’d met him under better circumstances cause it’d been a long ass time since anyone even touched him let alone worshipped him but accepting that he’d probably never see the guy again, so it didn’t really matter.

Until a few days later when the official Corroded Coffin account slid into his DM’s on Instagram, apologised profusely, and requested very sweetly to make it up to him with dinner the next time he was free.

Signed Eddie. With a little angel emoji. How on earth could he say no to that?

#steddie #piratewrites #Rockstar!eddie munson #Paramedic!steve harrington #SHITPOST FICLET #i have no excuse for this

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xjaylyn · 4 months ago

Text

PART 6 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: It's been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

A/N: I was beating my brain trying to write this part in order to drop tonight as promised. I don’t know why it was so hard to come up with something for these past two parts, but whew. I’m not sure how much I like these past two parts, but I don’t know. We’ll see where it goes from here. Enjoyyyy🥰

(^ photo creds - @yeahnohoneybye )

…7:00 pm…

Taking one last breath and letting go of the bathroom sink, Rya steps back and looks at herself one last time before stepping out.

The beautiful silk champagne dress graced every curve of her body. Her hair was pressed and perfectly curled at the ends, and her makeup was light but effective. Despite how good she looked, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of last night affecting her body. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with her father staring back at her.

Shaking her head, she grabs the small clutch on the sink and strides out of the locker room into the common room to meet everyone else waiting on her.

"Wow, you clean up nice, Rya," Mike says, fixing his cufflinks on his suit.

"Thanks," she mutters, watching Kelly walk over behind her to clamp the small, discreet necklace around her neck.

"This has audio and video. We’ll be able to see and hear everything. Just be careful, alright?"

Rya nods, feeling how light and delicate it is. To anyone else, it looks like a plain diamond necklace, which is good since they didn’t need the dealers to think otherwise.

Rita steps forward, clearing her throat, making everyone look her way. "Alright, everyone. This is it. Rya, you know what you need to do. The rest of you, be ready for anything. Let’s make this count."

---------------------------------------------------------

"Alright, everyone in position?" Rita says into everyone’s earpiece. A string of "yes" can be heard in response.

Nodding her head, Rya stands behind two people in line. Slightly looking up, she notices Dorn’s drone making its way towards her before hiding in place.

"Alright, we got eyes on you, Rya. You are good to go."

Looking ahead, she steps forward as the two people in front of her enter, coming face to face with the bouncer.

"Name," he asks, looking down at his list.

"Kim Smith," she says smoothly, looking up at the bouncer with a small smile on her face. The bouncer looks her up and down before checking a name off a list.

"Enjoy your dinner, Ms. Smith."

Nodding her head, she walks into the elegant place. Smooth jazz playing in the background and people in fancy attire holding glasses of champagne surround her on every corner. A waiter comes to her side, offering a glass, which she kindly takes.

Looking around, she spots a dimly lit booth in the far back corner. She can see a waiter stepping away from the table, granting a better look at the faces occupying the space. She instantly recognizes them as Sergio’s business partners whom she has worked closely with before.

Taking a quick sip of her champagne, she makes her way towards the booth. Staring at the man facing her way, he looks up before smiling at her.

"Agent 007," he cheers, standing up to greet her, causing the other man to look behind him.

"Mr. Williams and Mr. Velez, nice to see you both," she greets, taking a seat in the booth.

"Yes, lovely to see you. Hermosa como siempre, mi amor (beautiful as always, my love)," Velez says, putting his cigarette to his mouth and looking Rya up and down.

Javi Velez, despite his young age of 30, is a notorious kingpin in Mexico and one of the biggest drug dealers in the game. His supply of drugs has been keeping Sergio’s operation going for years, especially after Sergio suffered a major loss. It could be said that Sergio is in debt to him.

"What are you doing in Miami, agent? Heard some shit went down at the corp; shouldn’t you be there?" Williams says, leaning back in the booth.

Joe Williams is a very important connection to Sergio’s operation, especially being his financial advisor. Every deal and check went through Joe. His mind was always on the money and knew how to handle it very well.

"Sergio sent me here to handle some business. Said we have some loose strings that we need to tighten," she says, raising a brow at the men.

The two look at each other before looking at the young woman. Chuckling a bit, Velez burns his cigarette. "Nah, nothing over here, preciosa. We'll let you know if we hear anything."

"You sure about that? Word has gotten around that you made some new connections that you haven’t informed Sergio about," she says, picking up her glass and eyeing the man.

All of a sudden, the sound of a phone goes off. Silence falls between the three as Joe opens his phone to read the message. As Javi and Rya stare at each other, Joe clears his throat, setting his phone back down.

"Well, it seems to me, 007… you’re the loose string."

'Fuck.'

All of a sudden, the background music cuts off, and all the people in the building stop their talking and look back at the booth, pointing their guns at Rya.

"Whoa, what the fuck?" she can hear Dorn say in her earpiece.

Rya sets her glass on the table and looks up at the vent above them. There was Armando hidden with a rifle, aiming down at them, ready to fight.

The sounds of bullets ring through the room, and she quickly flips the table to shield herself. Grabbing her own gun from under her dress, she quickly points it at Joe, who aims his gun at her and shoots his wrist, causing the gun to fall.

From above, Armando jumps down and shoots Javi to immobilize him. Pushing the table down, Armando steadily shoots at all the people in the foyer along with Dorn’s drone.

In the corner, Rya notices Mike and Marcus making their way into the shootout. Feeling someone coming up behind her, Rya quickly turns around, blocking the swing to grab their arm and turn it back on them until she hears a snapping noise. Drawing her gun, she goes for straight headshots on each person running towards her, hitting each one. Running out of bullets, she drops her gun, takes the clip out, and blocks a punch before sending a hook and taking the clip, stabbing it up their side multiple times.

"Rya, watch your six!" she hears Dorn.

Spinning around, she swings, knocking the person down before reaching to a table to grab the fork lying on a plate. Throwing it with a lot of force, she lands it in the middle of the person’s forehead.

Feeling someone grab behind her, she quickly reaches out to fight them until she hears a gunshot and their body drops. Looking up, she sees Armando aiming her way.

"That was your eighth," he says before lowering his gun.

Rolling her eyes, she looks around, noticing all the bodies on the floor. Mike and Marcus standing in the middle, ready for more.

"Who else?! I may be old, but I still got it, come on!" Marcus taunts, looking around. Hearing a groan come from beside him, he looks down to see a man reaching up for him, glaring at him.

"Now that’s just pitiful," Mike says, shaking his head before shooting him.

"Guys, they’re getting away," Rita says in the earpieces.

Quickly reaching down for a gun, Rya turns around to where Joe and Javi were limping away before shooting at them.

Dropping her arm, she makes her way to the two groaning on the floor. Armando picks up Joe, sitting him up against the wall. Rya drops down in front of him.

"Just tell me where Sergio keeps his inventory, and we can all go home."

"I’m not telling you shit," he coughs, glaring at her.

"Okay."

Aiming the gun at his thigh, she shoots him again, causing him to scream.

"Fuck, f-fucking bitch!" he groans.

"You did it to yourself," she says, aiming the gun at his head.

He just laughs, pressing his head to the barrel. "You still can’t make me say shit."

"Alright, if he ain’t gonna speak, let’s ask this one," Mike says, grabbing Javi.

"No te voy a decir nada, negro," he grits.

"The fuck did he say?" Mike says, looking back at Armando.

"It don’t matter, I heard 'nigga,'" Marcus says, aiming his gun at him.

"How’s Diane? Heard she got student of the month at school. That’s cool, Haywood Middle School, right?" Rya asks, staring at Joe, causing his eyes to widen.

"You sick bi-"

"Didn’t Amy get a promotion? She’s a manager now at Kr-"

"The witch," Joe heaves out.

"The witch?"

"Yes, the fucking witch. I can’t say it out loud but what she does best," he rushes, glaring at her.

Aiming towards Javi, she fires another shot, hitting him in his calf, causing the man to curse her.

"Joe, don’t try and run ten on me just tell me the fucking location," she says, keeping her eyes on Joe.

Spitting out blood, he closes his eyes before relaxing against the wall. "Her fucking voodoo shop. It’s underneath there, you sick fucking bitch," he grits, giving up.

"You’ll live," she says, standing up and looking back at the crew.

"The shop is in Miami, everything we need should be there."

"Your hit," Armando says.

"How many times are y'all going to come for my appear—" Rya rolls her eyes, causing Armando to shake his head and point at her shoulder.

"No, I mean you got shot."

Stopping mid-sentence, Rya looks down to where he was pointing to see the open bullet wound. Blood oozing down her arm. It most likely went all the way through.

"I'm fine...we need to go and grab what we nee—" She says, looking back up at everyone.

"No, no, we're going to call it a night, and you're going to get that wrapped and bandaged. We can go in the morning," Mike says crossing his arms.

Opening her mouth to go against him, Marcus cuts her off. "Don't even try to say otherwise, especially to Mike's hardheaded ass. He already made the decision for you."

---------------------------------------------------------

...AMMO HEADQUARTERS 2 HOURS LATER...

"Rya, you can stay at my house for the time being. All I ask is to clean up after yourself and don't leave any bloody bandages around, alright? I got a one-year-old that's starting to understand the concept of walking and grabbing random shit to put in her mouth," Mike says, walking towards the common room where Kelly was wrapping Rya's shoulder.

Nodding her head, she thanks Kelly as she finishes with the last bandage. Mike watches as she gets up and heads towards the locker rooms along with Kelly, leaving him and Armando by themselves.

Clearing his throat, he looks up towards his son sitting by the computers on his phone. Hesitating for a second, he decides to make his way up towards him and pulls up a chair next to him.

"I know it's been a little hectic these past couple of days...you good?" he asks with concern, studying his son's features.

"I'm not in prison..." Armando says, looking up at his father before looking back down at his phone.

Raising his brows, Mike sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, uh, Mando, I know we aren't completely there with the whole...father-son thing, and we don't ever have to be...we can simply be two men that respect each other...uh, but, uh, I do want you to know that if you need to talk about anyth—"

Getting up from his seat, Armando looks down at his father, furrowing his brows. "I don't have anything to talk about with you...we help each other out...that's it," he says, giving one last glance at the man in front of him before walking away.

Nodding his head, Mike watches as his son walks out. Standing up, he grabs his keys and makes his way out to the car to wait for Rya.

'We help each other...that's it.'

---------------------------------------------------------

...MIKE'S HOUSE...

"I have spare pajamas if you need some, Rya. I'll be happy to lend you something other than police shirts and training shorts," Christine says with a small smile, standing at the guest room door.

"I'm okay with what I have, thank you, Christine."

Upon arriving at Mike's house, Rya was instantly greeted by his former counselor and now wife. With a wide smile and an even wider hug, Rya was a bit caught off guard by the greeting but appreciated it nonetheless.

Their home was beautiful and comfortable. With it being a four-bedroom space, she was given the option to choose her own space to stay.

"We have some pain pills and more wound dressing if you need to change it in the bathroom right here. Get some sleep this time," Mike says, stepping into the doorway with baby Amara in his arms, her head gently resting on his shoulder as he bounced her up and down.

"Yes, let us know if you need anything. Goodnight," Christine smiles before closing the door.

Laying down on the full-size bed, she groans, feeling the soreness of her shoulder now that her adrenaline is down. She didn’t know how long she layed there staring at the ceiling until she sat back up, sliding on her house shoes that Christine gave her.

'Yeah, I'm not getting any sleep tonight.'

Making her way downstairs, she pours herself a glass of water before sitting down at the island. Seeing a figure move in the corner of her eye, she quickly looks up and lifts the glass, prepared to fight.

"It's just me."

Dropping her arm, she watches as Armando steps out with his hands up before walking towards the cabinet to grab himself a glass and pour some water.

The two sat in silence as Armando took a seat next to Rya at the kitchen island.

"Back at the restaurant—" Armando starts, still staring ahead.

"The guy said 'the witch'... referring to my mother, right?" he asks, looking down.

Turning her body towards Armando, she glances down at the man, not answering right away. Since they've met, Armando had this hard demeanor, but tonight she can tell he was vulnerable. Though he's trying not to show it, she could see right through the facade... it's one she does often herself.

"Yes... that concerns you?"

Looking back up, he makes eye contact with Rya. "Nah... just connecting the dots," he says, standing up and walking towards the sink to rinse his glass.

Staring at her glass in hand, she looks back up at Armando making his way out of the kitchen.

"You really think she loved you... like a son?" she asks, watching as he stops in his steps before turning around. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes wandered for a bit, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Even if she didn’t... she cared more than anyone else."

Staring at the man for a bit, she nods her head, considering his words. "You tired?"

Scrunching his face in confusion, he hesitates before answering. "Depends."

Standing up from her seat, she turns completely towards him and crosses her arms.

"Your mother’s voodoo shop... I can grab what we need, and you can find out who your mother really was."

Considering her words, Armando nods his head before turning around to head towards the garage.

"Dont slam my door getting in...I aint forget about earlier"

"you pissed me off"

Tag list: (lmk if you want to be added🫶🏽)

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno @honggihwa @literallegendicon @ninacutebee16 @hannie-squirrel00 @themainacc @stressedmess-21

#armando aretas #armando imagine #armando x reader #bad boys #armando aretas x black reader #armando aretas x reader #bad boys second chances #jacob scipio #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #martin lawrence #will smith #armando aretas x black!oc

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yelenaslyubov · 5 months ago

Text

You’re Mine

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

requested anonymously

a/n: here i am finally with another story!! i’m sorry it took so long, i’ve been going through it a bit and trying to find motivation again. this definitely isn’t my best work, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy :)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut, language, daddy kink, alcohol, reader receiving, jealousy

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: it is New Year’s Eve, and of course the one and only Tony Stark does not miss a chance to impress with a party. you attend this party under the impression it would be just like every other event, but you are soon proved wrong after you make a mistake to talk to Kate Bishop. your girlfriend sees your encounter from afar and chooses to deal with your wrongdoing in her own way… but do you learn your lesson?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 2k

You watched the numbers increase on the small screen above you. The elevator whirled up an extensive amount of floors and you could hear music and voices getting louder as you reached the top. To top it off, you had to listen to lousy jazz music all the way up.

The elevator jolted to a stop and the noise right outside of the doors indicated the size of the group waiting on the other side.

You inhaled deeply and adjusted your clothing nervously. This was the last party of the season and you were all but happy. Parties and holidays brought out the worst in Yelena and you were ready for them to be over. Parties in particular were a sore spot and she had been acting childish as of lately.

She was easily irritated, didn’t engage in conversation much, wanting to leave early, and most importantly—her jealousy was through the roof.

Recently there were new recruits who have been hanging around more and getting to know everyone. Yelena isn’t the friendly type, especially when it comes to other people talking to you. Of course, you were simply trying to be nice while Yelena thought of it as a threat.

You assumed tonight would be no different.

As the elevator doors eased open the sounds were almost deafening. You couldn’t tell if everyone’s voices or the music was louder, either way you had a difficult time adjusting from the tiresome elevator tunes.

You should’ve known that New Year’s Eve would be a hit at the Avengers Tower, but somehow you thought everyone would be down in Time Square observing the annual ball drop. It was only an hour until midnight so there was still time.

“Hey… y/n!”

You see a hand waving through the crowd but can’t quite make out who it is.

From in between two individuals, Peter emerges panting. “Hey! I was trying to get your attention, but it’s kinda hard with all these people.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Hey, Pete. How long have you been up here?”

“Well if you’re talking about how long I’ve been up here at the party, it’s been about 2 hours…if you’re talking about how long I’ve been up here in general…all day.”

“Peter, why on earth have you been up here all day?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “You see, Sam said—”

“That’s all I need to know,” you stopped Peter. “Anyway, have you seen Yelena around here at all?”

“Last time I saw her she was over by the bar.”

You tried to see over the mass of people crammed into the room, but it was no luck.

“Damn, there’s too many people to tell. Thanks anyways, Pete.”

You slithered past sweaty bodies to make your way over to the bar in hopes of finding Yelena there. Even after all that work, Yelena was nowhere near the bar, but there was another friendly face waiting there.

“Hey, Kate,” you greeted her.

Kate smiled back with warm cheeks. “What’s up!”

“Not much,” you responded while sitting down on the stool next to her, “just enjoying another party.”

“You sound entirely enthusiastic about it, I can see,” Kate says.

“Oh yeah, I just live for these parties. I’m definitely not tired of them after the last 5 we’ve had.”

“I’m going to agree with you on that.”

You asked the bartender for a drink to pass the time as you sat with Kate.

“How have you been liking the tower?” you asked Kate as you sipped your drink.

“It’s definitely a change of pace. Working independently out on the field versus being here with the Avengers… it’s wicked cool!” Her excitement makes you smile, remembering the time when you first were recruited.

“Don’t get too excited, sometimes you miss working alone,” you chuckle.

There was an awkward silence after your last comment, which made you think that Kate might take it the wrong way. “Don’t get me wrong, I love working in teams, but sometimes independent work helps clear your mind.”

“Makes sense… does that have anything to do with Yelena?”

You jolt your head up. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, for one, Yelena is usually the only one you go out on missions with, and two, she’s staring at you like you killed Fanny.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn to face the horror Kate warned you about. Kate wasn’t exaggerating. Yelena looked as if you had just committed the crime of the century.

“Is everything alright between the two of you?” Kate asked, apprehensively.

Your eyes never left Yelena while talking to Kate. “I’m not too sure now…I’m going to have to catch up with you later.”

You left Kate at the bar as you made your way over to Yelena’s watching eyes. The closer you got to her, the more your nerves overcame you. You weren’t sure what her problem was or what you did, and you didn’t want to suffer through the consequences of her anger—especially not tonight.

You were facing her now up close, letting the music pound into your eardrums while she slowly sipped on her drink. “Fun party, right?” Yelena yelled.

“Not really.” You stared at her once again, hoping she might elaborate on her previous death stare.

“No? Hmm, that’s too bad, I’m having a great-”

“Yelena, cut the act.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“I don’t know anything.” She smirked, but not the good kind of smirk. It was the kind of smirk where you know you had either fucked up or she did something awful.

“What did you do?” you asked.

“I didn’t do anything.” Her emphasis gave you all the clues you needed.

“Then what did I do?”

Yelena didn’t answer. She kept standing there taking small, occasional sips of her drink, almost as if the conversation was just as meaningless as the party.

“Yelena, I’m not doing this here.”

“Well, then let’s find somewhere else to do it then.”

You didn’t like her attitude at all, but you also didn’t want to leave the conversation unfinished. You looked around behind Yelena to see one of the many hallways they could sneak off to. You grabbed Yelena’s hand and pulled her down the hallway into a room.

“Is this satisfactory for you?” you asked, matching her attitude.

Yelena looked around the closet you managed to find. “It’s a bit small, but-”

“Oh, would you stop it!”

“No!” Yelena placed her hand firmly around your neck, slamming you against the closet door. “You stop it!”

You looked at her in shock. This wasn’t to say that this gesture was out of the ordinary from Yelena, but it was her ability to shut down so quickly that took you by surprise.

“You’ve been acting like a little slut lately,” she sternly said. Yelena could tell you were confused by her accusation. “Aw, you need help remembering how you embarrassed daddy?”

You tried to move your head forward to release Yelena’s right grip from your neck. “Yelena-” you started, but your head was pressed against the door once again.

“Don’t you know you don’t get to talk to other girls?” She moved her lips closer to your ear. “Don’t you know you’re mine, baby?” she whispered so delicately into your ear, your hair standing on edge.

Kate.

Yelena must have seen the realization written all over your face. You had been cutting it up with Kate while you were waiting to find Yelena. Little did you know, Yelena had been observing the two of you for a short time.

“Yelena, it’s not what it looks like,” you whispered.

“Oh, it’s not? Because it looked like you were interested in messing around with someone else, hmm?”

“No, that's not-”

“Ah ah,” she tuts. “I don’t want to hear excuses, baby…prove it to me.”

Your chest tightened. “Prove… what?”

Yelena smirked at you while her hand traced down the front of your frame. Her fingers ever so delicately slipped under the band of your pants.

“Yelena…” You could tell there was no stopping her from what she aimed to get from you.

“I want you,” she started, pausing while pushing her fingers past the barrier of your underwear, “to prove I’m yours.”

You were eye to eye now. Yelena’s eyes hung lazily with lust and revenge. She wanted to make you squirm… make you pay for how you made her feel.

She started rubbing gently against your clit, just enough to tease you. “Say it… ‘I’m yours.’”

“Yelena, please…”

“Say it!” she said, getting impatient. Her mouth was brushing against your ear, her breath hot against your skin. She bit your ear gently, hoping that you would make any kind of noise to grab her attention.

“I-I’m yours,” you whispered.

“That’s not loud enough, I can’t hear you.” With her words she picked up pace.

“I’m yours,” you moaned. You grabbed onto the wall in preparation for your legs to give out very soon. You even found yourself moving your hips against Yelena’s hand, your body craving her touch even more.

But you were angry with her. You were angry that Yelena was angry over nothing. This wasn’t unusual, which was the frustrating part, but you couldn’t help but drown in pleasure. Though it wasn’t Yelena’s intention to put you in a better mood, it was working either way.

“Such a good girl riding my fingers for me, but I want you to keep going. You can’t cum until I tell you to, baby.” The more she edged you on it only made you come closer to the edge.

In addition, you suddenly became aware of how loud you were being. You gained consciousness and were afraid everyone could hear you.

What if they notice you’re gone? What if they heard you? Or worse… What if they find you?

Your brain began scrambling. You couldn’t focus on the present, only what lies beyond the small closet the two of you were tucked behind.

Yelena could tell you were antsy, which only caused her more grief. Her other hand that was placed firmly on your hip tightened. She was keeping you in place so there was nowhere for you to run.

“I didn’t tell you to stop; keep talking,” she demanded. “I want you to scream my name loud enough to forget hers.”

The anger you were feeling started to melt away into only an ecstasy of pleasure. You couldn’t resist the way she felt against you, and you couldn’t possibly turn her away now.

“I’m yours,” you responded for her.

“That’s a good girl, but you’re going to need to be louder if you really mean it.”

“I’m yours!”

“There you go, pretty girl. I knew you could do it.” Her words went straight to your head, sending you farther into a daze. Your previous fear of your closet endeavors being seen had faded away, now all that was left was you and Yelena.

“You getting close, baby?”

She knew you so well. Your legs were quivering, your breathing was erratic, and your nails were digging deeper into the back of Yelena’s neck.

“I know you’re so close, but I need to hear you,” she begged of you.

“Please, Yelena,” you whined. “I’ll be good.”

“Aw, will you baby? Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes.”

“Then show me…cum baby.”

“Oh, Yelena!”

You came undone per her command. You tried to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds that could be heard outside the door, but Yelena quickly swatted your hand away. She wanted everyone to know you were hers.

After you calmed down, you tried your best to support yourself on your weak legs. You opened your eyes to meet Yelena’s piercing stare. You definitely felt better but you could tell that Yelena wasn’t completely satisfied.

You had lost track of time until you heard the large crowd outside the door counting down to midnight. Of course you expected a kiss from Yelena for the occasion, but instead you watched her wipe her fingers on her pants and head out of the door.

You were suddenly left alone as the celebration outside continued. You leaned against the door and slid down until you reached the bottom. As you sat there, you wondered what possible lesson Yelena could be teaching you by leaving you alone at the top of the New Year.

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 7 months ago

Text

Most Wanted (Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."

*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS AND READ LIGHTLY.

Pairing: Toji Fushigiro x Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.”

You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.

“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage.

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”

The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.”

He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started.

You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?”

You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.

“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.”

More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.

You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target.

He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss.

He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it.

He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it.

He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up.

And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section.

As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club.

He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it.

Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.”

You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”

The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.”

“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her.

She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand.

“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.”

You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!”

To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor.

“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.”

“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.”

You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink.

His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss.

Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit.

Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.”

You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question.

He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.”

You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?”

“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.”

“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.”

His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts.

“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order.

“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.

“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.”

He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”

He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?”

You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?”

Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.

“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands.

You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.”

Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction.

With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face.

You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame.

“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set.

“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?”

You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”

The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.”

You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?”

You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you.

His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush.

You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now.

Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy.

You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh.

“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.”

Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.”

At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him.

He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are.

Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down.

“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you.

“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky.

For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing.

You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”

With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.

“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.”

Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun.

He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls.

His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.”

The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper.

He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down.

His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!”

“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”

Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks.

Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.

“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.”

He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.

He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!”

Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.”

You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.”

With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so.

“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out.

Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.

WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?”

He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!”

Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.”

You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.”

You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says.

Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.”

His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?”

Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob.

“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second.

So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.”

He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”

He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover.

“W-Wait,” you stammer.

That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open.

Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks.

His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.”

You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?”

He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you.

“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls.

You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy.

“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.”

He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking.

You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!”

Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.”

You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows.

At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”

Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you.

Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.”

He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”

Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.”

Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure.

“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside.

“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”

He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?”

“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!”

“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you.

You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you.

You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.”

You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat.

Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.”

He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.”

You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.

Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces.

“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks.

And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed:

“He overpowered me.”

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toxic relationship #toji x self insert

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impishjesters · 1 year ago

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I’m devouring the nonsexual intimacy with Jax dawg- oml we eatin good

How would Jax be with an s/o who enjoys leaning on him? I adore physical touch but sometimes if I can’t use my arms it feels like I’m trapped, so it’s nice to just glomp people lmao (s/o is ticklish too- Jax would have a field day with that one)

If you need a little more substance, maybe s/o like randomly serenading Jax in private! Like those old 80s jazz love songs (complete with slow dancing)

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

Leaning on one another

warning(s): none unless you count jazz note(s): I joke about it but I actually quite like jazz, maybe not all jazz but it's definitely not the worst type of music. I'm looking at you country music.... A/N: I included a bonus because I thought the idea of cornering this man in his room with jazz music was absolutely hilarious lol

Jax doesn’t have a physical battery per say, but there is definitely a limit to how much he can tolerate at a given time—whether it’s in public or private.

He doesn’t like sitting still for long periods of time and there’s a limit to how vulnerable he’s willing to be at any given time if at all.

So having a s/o that understands this and goes for physical touch like leaning on him or something that’s not inherently seen as romantic and mushy is a win in his book.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves you but it’s a lot and he’s not really used to it. He’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact you two are dating, that you like him.

He’s all for being leaned on or having you loosely hang off him in public, sometimes regardless of what side of him you’re leaning on, he might lean back.

Little shit might only catch himself though if you can’t hold him/he catches you off guard and/or lose your footing, he’ll make the attempt to stick an arm out and catch you—but whether you crash or not depends on your own reflexes. (he doesn’t make the rules, sorry babe)

If you wanna be held but not feel restricted, as long as he’s not doing anything he’ll let you stand in front of him, lean back, and drape his arms over you—totally not to just lean on you and be an absolute menace.

In fact, that’s probably how he found out you were ticklish—and that knowledge is far too much power in his hands.

Sure he can do it whenever he wants, but he tends to save it for other unsuspecting situations—like if the two of you get into a little spat and you’re not speaking to him—two can play that game.

He won’t completely restrict your arms but he’ll throw his arms around you and tickle you, it doesn’t always work to ease whatever the spat was about.

That said Jax doesn’t do it when the situation is serious and calls for an actual discussion, he knows at least that much when it comes to reading the room. (That and you’ve probably gotten onto him about it at least once before…)

He also may or may not have tickled you to get you up, you don’t need to sleep but you can still lie down and whatnot. And if you aren’t budging? Tickle time baby.

Bonus

Jax isn’t a dancer by any means, so when he opens the door to his room to find you standing there with music that’s—very much not the repetitive cartoony music that usually plays in this hellscape—he’s a little surprised.

The first question out of his mouth is:

“Is that fucking jazz?”

“No, just normal jazz.”

That response gets a good hearty chuckle out of him.

When you try pulling him in for a dance he’s a little nervous though it comes off as looking irritated, he’s uh, never danced to jazz of all things let alone with someone else.

You’re gonna have to take the reigns on this one, regardless of whether you can dance or not, you started this.

Despite the fact it is jazz playing, he enjoys the situation as a whole, your weight leaning on him the subtle holding one another. And the fact it’s in private? He can comfortably(ish) let himself feel a little vulnerable around you with no risk of having an audience.

Regardless of the fact it’s jazz, if you happen to sing along he considers himself impressed and will jokingly (read: obnoxiously) comment how he feels utterly serenaded, completely wooed, absolutely swooning—it goes on until you stop him, please stop him he’ll just keep going.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

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tinydefector · 6 months ago

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I was wondering if I could request some Jazz x GN bot reader nsfw maybe rough yet passionate intercourse and if you’re comfortable with it have the two get caught doing it

I’m so so so sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭

Plug and Play

Jazz x Cybertronian

Word count: 800

Warning: smut, valveplug, plug and play, wire play, spark bonding. Spark play. Getting walked in on.

Masterlist

Jazz masterlist

_______________

Jazz's optics flicker behind his visor as he watches them, their playful behaviour has him smiling as he grips their hips. A low chuckle escapes Jazz's vocalizer. He shifts beneath them, feeling their movements against him, the subtle grind sending a surge of pleasure through his circuits as they run their servos across his frame.

"Well, darlin'," Jazz purrs, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and amusement, "you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit." He thrust up into them, pulling their body down with each thrust. Moans fall from their lips. Their frames are locked together as they both explore each other, tracing paint, chipped marks and dents across each other's plating.

Jazz's frame tenses as their optics meet his, one servo cupping his faceplate as they press their helm to his. He grabs their waist again slamming them down onto his spike. A yelp leaves them as their back arches, his name falling from their lips. his own moans mingling with theirs as their movements grow more frantic.

“Do that again!” They stutter out in a static laced tone. Jazz's servo grabs their backplates holding them firmly as he slams his spike back into them, making sure to grind Himself further into their tight valve. His other servo wraps around their spike pressing against the nodes that line it as he works them up.

"Y-Yes," Jazz gasps, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and need. "Mmm gonna overload for me sweet thing?." He asked In a mumble against their audial. As their bodies move in perfect sync, Jazz's thoughts become a blur of memories, some his and some theirs as they share data, the overwhelming pleasure that courses through his circuits has him pulling them closer as he begins opening their spark chamber.

With a swift motion, Jazz's plating begins to shift, they both move frantically grabbing wires and plugging them into ports of each other's frame, their sparks singing to each other as they edge closer to an overload. The sound of gears and mechanisms whirring fills the air as he ruts desperately against them.

"I've got you." He guides their servos, helping them navigate the delicate pathways of his chassis, their touch sending shivers of pleasure through his circuits. Jazz's spark quickens syncing with their, their vents aline and in that moment he sees all of them, memories, emotions and so much more. Each beat of their spark has him spiralling further.

With each call of his name, he wishes for nothing more than to be one with them, to have his spark bond with them like this. their moans and cries echoing in harmony in the small room as they cling to each other as if the other would fade away. “Your stunning, please show me more” he almost begs as their sparks begin to dance, pulsing as static buzzes around the glowing orbs of light.

Their servos return to his face, gently guiding his helm back towards theirs. Jazz's optics meet theirs, a mix of wonder and desire shining through. A surge of energy courses through Jazz's circuits as their helms touch, the connection between them felt like liquid energex and ecstasy.

footsteps echo through the door as Prowl enters, his focus intent on his data pad until he looks up. as he catches sight of Jazz and his partner in the act, a mix of shock and horror washes over him. He freezes in his tracks, his optics narrowing.

"What in the fragging Pit is going on here?!" Prowl's voice booms, his tone laced with anger and disbelief. "Have you both lost your fragging minds?!, in the precinct!” He yells

Both of them tense up as they meet Prowls optics. Neither able to talk from the amount of energy flowing through their lines.

"Fragging pits, get decent, by primus I don't need to see that " Prowl snaps, his voice filled with a bitter edge as he slams the door shut behind him. "You should be ashamed of yourselves," Prowl yells out as he storms down the hallway. The sound of a table being thrown can be heard along with other voices questioning what was going on.

Both of them lay there together venting in sync before laughter trickles from them. “Told you he'd find us” they mumble into Jazz's plating which only makes him pull them closer as he cradles their face against his. “Worth every second of the lecture we will be getting” Jazz utters while tracing their faceplate. “Your cleaning up the broken table” they smile at him as they flick his helm cress making him lean back out of the firing range.

Jazz's optics soften as he watches their smile, their playful gesture momentarily easing the tension that still lingers in the air. He chuckles softly, his spark slowly cooling at their gentle touch. "Looks like I've got my work cut out for me, don't I?" Jazz replies, his tone lighthearted

_______________

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Taglist

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@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

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#transformers #transformers idw #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #mtmte #valveplug #jazz idw #idw jazz #jazz transformers #transformers jazz #jazz #jazz x reader #jazz x cybertronian

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coffeewithcocoa · 8 months ago

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Hi💕

Can I request male reader x Alastor were they are enemies by day and lovers by night? If you can thank you💕

:0 THIS ONE! THIS ONE RIGHT HERE IS BEAUTIFUL!

Playing Pretend

Alastor x Male Reader

Warnings: Fluff//Romantic Relationship//Female DNI

Sorry if it’s not perfect or too short😅

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You and Alastor hated each other. No, Correction. You guys pretended to hate each other. It’s not for the reason you think but it’s just because he wants to keep his, ‘big, bad, scary, overlord’ self. He’s actually a big fat softy when and behind closed doors.

He’s been like this since you’ve joined the hotel, as bad as that may seem when it’s clearly not. Like said before, behind closed doors this man’s a big fat softy. Giving you, hugs, kisses, cuddles and much more. The only time you guys fought was in the morning. Why?

It’s so that he wouldn’t show weakness to the blind sinners eyes. Alastor thinks they’re clueless and don’t deserve to see an overlords soft side. Plus he still has Vox to worry about. Showing a soft side around him would cause everyone In pentagram city to see him as a damn joke. So when you guys got into an established relationship he made you swear to only show him love at night, in private, when everyone’s asleep.

It worked for you perfectly though since you weren’t the one for touching anyone who doesn’t have a good bond with you. That’s kind of why Alastor fell for you in the first place. The moment he laid a finger on you when you were knew you almost blew his head off, almost.

You’ve changed, sure, but you still would do that if you didn’t crave or want touch in that moment. A subtle noise made you snap from your thoughts. The jazz noises that filled the room now being mixed in with your boyfriend’s return from working that night.

Charlie has been making him up and down with more and more ideas for the hotel, hoping that it would get more patrons. “Good evening, Cher.” He showed his true voice towards you. It was tired and craving a break.

“Evening.” You replied. Knowing he wants a break but he wouldn’t get one till he allows himself for one. You went back to what you were doing before he arrived in your room, reading. Silence came between you as the room was still filled with the jazz you’d left on. Your voice breaking the short silence, “Charlie I’m assuming?”

“As much as I care for the doll she’s just a little too talkative Cher.” Alastor answered with a small hum. His lovely grin, that covers his face everyday, faded as he moved further into the room. Your head turned, placing the book down to stand up. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” You asked going over to the radio that played the genre that your lover enjoyed when he was alive.

“Hm. Just your presence is fine.” The smile he had finally gained confidence again. Going back to its original bright self that everyone is familiar with. Alastor’s hand was focused on his dress coat. He may need it for when he was working or when it was morning but wearing such a thing around you felt weird. Yes he likes being neat and tiddy but he just wants a break.

Your foot steps being further away from him when he started and you being right in front of him when he finished made his gaze turn to you. A small smile placed into your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I hate waking up.” Alastor knew the answer to that and he on the same boat as you. “I know Cher. We do it because it’s to protect an innocent, handsome, sinner such as yourself.”

He has a way with words. And you hated it. Thats the only thing you really hated value him though. Everything else was something someone wanted really bad but he happened to fill up the categories perfectly! “I understand but why in front of all the others?” It was pretty obvious as to why the others didn’t know about the relationship going on between you too, but wouldn’t they be the first to know?

“Ha! They would be the last ones to know about such a thing Cher.” The speed that he can change moods scares you quite a bit. Even with it being as simple as him being tired to him enjoying the presence he brought to the room.

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Sorry that it’s quite short. I’ve been tired and busy and nothing exactly came into mind once I got to this point, hope you like it though!<333

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #x male reader #character x you #male reader #gay reader #alastor x gn!reader #asexual alastor #alastor x you #alastor x male reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin alastor

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fayes-fics · 10 months ago

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When The World Is Free: Chapter 8 - Je N'en Connais Pas La Fin

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: tiny dash of spice… making out, hands wandering. Light angst, emotions, late-night confessions.

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Please don't be mad at me about this - I could not go with the cliche of wedding night. These idiots just need one more night to get their sh*t together. Sorry, and yes, as penance, Chapter 9 will be posted very soon. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

A nervous energy ripples through your limbs as the four others leave, traipsing across the garden to the neighbouring cottage, leaving you and your new husband alone. Still waving awkwardly from the patio as they all disappear from view. A chill passes through you, just noticing how cold the night air is, autumn drawing in and without the warmth of Benedict holding you in some way, as he has been the past few hours. You startle slightly as he interrupts your reverie by chivalrously wrapping the faux fur stole around your shoulders.

“It’s my something borrowed,” you blurt, unsure what else to say.

“Eloise?”

You just nod, too nervous all of a sudden to look up at him.

“Let’s get inside,” he suggests, observing even the extra layer does not halt your shiver, gesturing to the kitchen door.

You walk awkwardly past, catching a whiff of his delicious scent that you woke up to this morning, the involuntary urge to sway into him intense.

You drift to the living room, Benedict wandering to the gramophone, putting on a mellow jazz record before taking a seat; part of you sad he chooses the armchair, not the sofa beside you.

“Well… that was a day,” he understates in his usual affable manner.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank you,” you respond earnestly, looking down at the simple band on your finger by reflex. “It’s all thanks to you that I have a chance to escape while I still can.”

“You would have done the same for me,” he demures with a quiet certainty that makes you yearn to touch him.

Instead, you exchange slightly awkward smiles, the mantlepiece clock ticking sounding so loud, even with the music playing.

“And I'm sure you will get home one day,” he assures. “Your family, I'm certain, miss you… and... And your fiancee,” the reluctance in his words evident.

“I’m not sure a married woman can have a fiancé anymore,” you remark; the lash of guilt every time Stanley’s name is invoked lessening with every moment you spend alone with Benedict.

“You can once you are a single woman again, as soon as you are safe,” he counters softly, so altruistic in his manner your throat almost itching with unspent words—a want to yell. No! Fight for me! I want you more than I ever will want him!!

“You yourself said on the train that perhaps there is something better out there for me,” you respond cautiously. “The longer this adventure runs, the more certain I am of that.”

His mien is profound as you finally raise your eyes to his, wanting so much to say more but feeling too tongue-tied and cowardly to be that selfish, to declare he is what you want.

He shakes himself a little and leans back into the armchair as if resetting himself and the line of conversation. Like he senses the mutual danger lurking there.

“Tomorrow, when we sail… they will likely notice the date on our marriage certificate,” Benedict counsels gently. “That may raise flags about the authenticity of our union.”

“What can we do to assuage them?”

“Come up with a plausible story. Be physically affectionate. They may ask no questions, or they may ask as many as they wish,” he warns, “especially of you. They may ask you about…” Benedict pauses, his face flushing a little, “… intimate matters. They have every right to ask if the marriage has been consummated.”

You feel yourself flashing hot as he says it. “I should lie?” you whisper.

“You should say whatever you think will make them believe we are a real couple,” he obfuscates.

“I’m a terrible liar…” you confess, blushing when you realise your words could be interpreted as an invitation to be intimate. And on this, your wedding night.

His gaze is heavy. “You can do it y/n. Your freedom and safety may depend on your ability to convince them you love me... And I you.”

I think I might, your mind screams.

“I know… I… think I can do it,” you falter, replaying every kiss you have shared. “We seem to have done a great job convincing Jerome and Marie…”

“They are not looking to see artifice,” he counters. “British soldiers will be.”

“Sh… should we practice?” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, champagne again taking your tongue, a deep flush spreading over your skin as you realise it.

“Y… yes, I think maybe we should,” he agrees very quickly.

He stands somewhat awkward, peeling off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, leaving his waistcoat. You find yourself again mesmerised by him, as you were that night in Paris, wanting to run your hands over the flex in his arm muscles. In fact, you are so distracted you don’t even realise he is proffering you a hand out of the chair. You spring up to your feet without his help, the idea of touching him right now entirely too distracting, which seems to amuse him briefly before his expression turns sincere.

“We have kissed, but not as lovers, as married people would. We... we may need to do so, casually, of course, within sight of those allowing boarding,” he opines, even as your heart speeds up, realising what he is saying.

“You think we need to… practice more kissing? Now?” you are mildly annoyed by how stupefied you sound.

“Yes,” he confirms, drawing closer, “passionate, real kissing.”

You are looking up into blue eyes and a gorgeous face as fingertips loop around your wrist as if checking your pulse.

“Grab my wrist if you want me to stop,” he tutors softly, so gentlemanly in his approach, even as you fret that he can feel your heart rate hammering hard in your veins.

Once again, time is in slow motion as his lips descend. At first, the kiss is breathtaking but still chaste, like previously. But then there is a noise in the back of his throat that makes the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end; his lips part yours, a wave of damp heat as the kiss deepens. His tongue swipes yours tentatively, a tease before you mirror his moves. He tastes of champagne and something else that is entirely him, an impulse to bite the inside of his cheek. And then it’s abruptly fervent, wanton - like a dam has broken - his hands gripping the crest of your hip bones, each finger an insistent dig into your flesh.

Finally, given the permission, you don't hold back. Pushing into him, one hand grasping the buckled loop at the back of his waistcoat that cinches it to his slim form, the other winding around his sturdy neck, encouraging him to lean down further, take from you. The kiss seems never-ending, a rolling wave of to and fro, a dance not unlike the one in the square just last night. Those fireworks still explode, but this time, it feels like those ones that are so powerful they knock a punch to your solar plexus, a ricochet you feel physically,

His hands slide up your back, a sensual drag that makes you moan into his mouth, a noise he greedily swallows. But he stops as they reach the faux fur wrapped around your shoulders and reluctantly breaks the kiss.

“Please, take this off,” he implores, “I cannot do this with you wearing my sister's clothing,” he points out with a cringe that creases his face charmingly.

Your responding giggle causes him to break into a lopsided grin, and wordlessly, you untie it as he watches, pupils blown. When you push it back off your shoulders, it hits the rug behind you with a soft whump, and your instinct takes over, rocking onto your tiptoes, one hand sliding into the lush hair at the back of his head and bringing his face back to yours.

The minute your mouth opens to his, you are heavy and weightless all at once, not unlike that wooden roller coaster on Coney Island that made you see stars. Your nails flex on his scalp as his hands slide over your dress, looping low around your hips, tugging you snugly into his body as your tongues tangle.

This.

This must be what the girls whisper about—a tart metallic boiling in your blood, a heavy tug deep inside your pelvis that needs relief. A wanting so physical it almost hurts, a hunger that makes you feel reckless, liable to behaviour you could never justify, a pure carnal caprice. But all too soon, he is pulling back, a need to breathe, even as he does so inches from your face, his eyes locked on yours as they flutter open.

“Again,” you murmur, uncaring how gossamer thin your excuse is, just wanting more.

His eyes are glittering as he complies. Kissing like a wild storm now, hands hot through the thin, cool silk fabric. And you cannot stop the noises you make, shameless and breathy, right into his open, wet, questing mouth. Pressing hard against his body, a solid warmth in his trousers promising things you need so badly you crave to curl around him, open yourself to him.

You have never felt this before. A tingle under your scalp that vibrates all the way down to your toes. A want to take and be taken. To bite and be bitten. To ride and be ridden. For him to rip your dress from your body and throw you onto the sofa—a yen that feels not entirely human and definitely not civilised.

It's like he senses your thoughts have slid somewhere wild, or perhaps his have too, as when he pulls back, he is panting, and there is a quaking in his entire being like he is crackling with energy.

“Please. Go.” His voice is ragged, deep, almost wrecked. “Please. I… I can’t do this anymore,” his voice cracks a look that is at once hungry, aching, and barely contained restraint.

Please don't be a gentleman now, Benedict. Please. No. God. Not now. Don’t.

“I’m s…sorry,” you stutter, feeling guilty you have pushed it too far but utterly unmoored by the searing passion and the sting of his rejection, albeit reluctant.

Even you can see the war in his being, physical desire being muzzled by the gentleman he was clearly raised to be. Knowing if you stand here much longer, something will happen that one or both of you will regret. Your wedding ring seems to burn your skin as you turn around and shrink away, leaving the room, not daring to look back, knowing he has also turned away with ragged breaths.

As you climb the stairs, feet feeling leaden, your body in utter turmoil, you hear the discordant scratch of the gramophone being halted. You undress in a daze, swearing you can still feel the heat of his handprints through the silk of your dress. Climbing into the bed approaching numb, champagne swirling unease in your gut with all the rich foods, an oily disquiet that means it takes ages to settle.

You lay there fitfully for what feels like hours, tossing and turning, picking over the minutiae of every moment with Benedict - tonight and all the nights and days before. Seeing possible signs that make your heart clench.

Could it be that he is not doing this all for show?

It's a seizing thought that catalyses your body: it has you up on your feet and rushing down the stairs in your nightgown, breathless and stumbling. But when you round the corner into the living room, all your courage to declare it is sapped by the sight of Benedict sleeping, curled slightly, looking smaller somehow, his back turned to you, face buried into the back cushion of the sofa.

Instead, you back away, padding to the kitchen to take a glass of water, hoping the hydration will stave off the worst of a hangover; the water is a relief to the tumultuous, racing feeling as you stand on the large slab of earthen tile gleaming in the moonlight, cold underfoot. You pour another glass for him without thought.

Tiptoeing back into the living room, careful not to wake him, you crouch beside him to leave the glass of water within easy sight and reach should he stir. But you find yourself unable to leave without saying something. The temptation to confess to his unconscious self is impossible to resist, the grip on your own glass so tight.

“I’ll never be able to repay you,” you murmur to his back, fingers itching to trace over the bare skin of his shoulder blades where they peak out of the blanket. “For this unbelievable act of kindness and generosity. And yet… god, this is so selfish,” you flick your eyes up to the ceiling to stem a tear you feel gathering, “… still I’m greedy. Always wanting more. Wanting…. Wanting to never return to my old life. Wanting to run away. Wanting this… Wanting this to be real.”

The last phrase is barely audible, but still, you are instantly horrified that you confessed it out loud, even to his unconscious, sleeping frame. And you know you must leave.

God, what is wrong with me? What is this? Temporary insanity? Too much alcohol, a fake wedding and an impending war are not a good recipe…

It’s a silent internal lament as you stand up and withdraw, self-chastisement echoing so loud in your head. And yet, you can't resist a parting sentence from the doorway.

“Goodnight, Benedict, you are truly the very best of men...”

—

What you don’t see as you slowly climb back up the creaking wooden stairs is Benedict’s eyes blazing open, a look of utter astonishment claiming his face as he twists around and stares at the doorway you left by, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He was never asleep.

And he heard every single word.

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unformula1 · 10 months ago

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love at midnight (MV33/MV1 x Reader)

valentines day series - valentines’ day countdown: -1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ synopsis: you and Max attend an event, not for long though. “They’re spending a lot of money on you Max” You comment, chuckling as you do so. Max cocks up an eyebrow and lets out a scoff before stringing together his words. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 1329 a/n: i need fic ideas lol. send plz. masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hate these, you know that.” Max whispers in your ear as you hold his hand and walk toward the room.

“C’mon! They’re celebrating you!” You roll your eyes and let out a soft sigh, “You can’t just no show!”

“Watch me.” Max taunts.

You playfully punch Max’s shoulder as both of you enter the room.

“Media’s going to be all over this…” He rolls his eyes, pulling you in closer.

Everyone is dressed in formal attire, suit and ties and all. They’re all holding wine glasses, making small talk with people around them. The sounds of glass clinking, laughter and swift footsteps by the servers are heard.

The room is all decked out with tables and fancy tablecloth, soft jazz music playing in the background, a giant chandelier and the walls are plastered with fancy artwork or sculptures.

“Just last for a few hours, then we can say I’m tired. Then we can go back.” You whisper to him.

He nods, acknowledging your gameplan.

“Get ready for small talk.” You tell Max as both of you approach another couple.

“Max!” The gentleman says, wrapping his arms around Max and pulling him in for a tight hug. You’re forced to let go of Max as he awkwardly returns the hug.

“You remember me?” The man says.

No.

“Yes! Of course.” Max says, adding a small, pretty forced sounding, laugh.

“I’m so happy for you!” The man says, letting go of his presumed wife’s hands and firmly shaking Max’s hands.

The woman looks at you and flashes a polite smile and you return it. This is very uncomfortable, emphasis on very. She fiddles with her handbag as her presumed husband talks with Max. You tap your foot and look around the room as Max talks with the man.

“So, how are you doing?” The man continues. Max is clearly running out of things to say.

“I’m sorry.” You interject, “Max and I need to go get some drinks.” You smile at the man.

“Ah yes! Enjoy yourselves.” The man says and holds back onto his presumed wife’s hands and walks off.

“That was so much harder than it needed to be.” Max scoffs as you pull him away.

“What a douchebag.” You joke, pulling Max to the drinks section of the room.

The table is laid out with some of the fanciest tablecloths you have ever seen, it’s silky and smooth, but it’s pretty good quality too. You feel the tablecloth as Max pours himself a drink.

“They’re spending a lot of money on you Max” You comment, chuckling as you do so.

Max cocks up an eyebrow and lets out a scoff before stringing together his words.

“I- uh, yea they do.” He replies, flushing slightly pink.

You raise an eyebrow and pour yourself a drink, holding onto it and walking off with Max.

“More small talk!” You point out. Max lets out a sigh and fakes a smile.

“Max!” Another man, who’s with a group of other men, says as he pulls Max in for an awkward hug.

Max lets out a lot of fake laughs in that conversation and even more awkward responses. He’s done this a million times yet he’s still so bad at it. While they talk, you swirl your drink around, taking sips here and there.

The men finally leave Max alone and he lets out a huge sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

You laugh at his predicament, patting him on the back.

“Are you laughing at my suffering?” He asks, feigning offence.

“It’s pretty funny…” You chuckle, “and your fake laugh sounds hot.”

“Really-” Max scoffs, “Because it really shouldn’t.”

You pat him on the back and take another sip of your drink.

--------------------------------------------------

A painful hour passes and it’s nearing 11pm at this point. It’s getting tiring for both Max and you. You don’t know how many ‘oh I’m doing great’s you have left in you and how many more times you can awkwardly stand there as people make conversation with Max.

If you were being honest, Max had it worse. His social battery was getting more and more drained by the minute; every conversation he had felt more and more dreadful. His fake laughs were becoming more and more painful to listen to and his brain felt like shutting down at any second.

He let out a very long sigh, followed by a longer groan. He rubbed his forehead and leaned onto you. You made a few unintelligible noises too.

After a while, you yawned as Max finished up another conversation.

“I don’t know how much longer I can last.” Max groans.

“Pretty long apparently.” You joke while adjusting your outfit for the one hundredth time.

He gives you a glance, “You are not funny.”

You smile back at him and he returns a pretty weak one.

“Oh well!” You say, taking his drink and yours, placing them on a spare spot in the table before dragging Max away.

It catches him off guard and he takes a few seconds to process what you’re doing, looking back at the drinks as he walks off.

“What-” He says as you pull him.

“We’re leaving.” You say, politely smiling at the people you walk past.

Max pulls you in closer as he says goodbye to a few important people, using the ‘they’re tired’ excuse.

Both of you walk out the door and take a huge breath of fresh air, walking toward the car park. You open the door and get into the passenger's side. Max looks at you and lets out another groan.

“Really…” He says, dragging the word, “Can’t you drive?”

He pouts adorably. You keep your cool and look back at him emotionlessly.

“Please…” He says, pouting more and dragging the words like a little child.

You fold.

You step out the passengers side, which earns you a small cheer from Max, who quickly gets into the seat before you change your mind. You get into the driver’s seat and start the car.

“Buckle up Maxie.” You say, “You’re the passenger princess now.”

He chuckles at your comment and turns on the radio.

You start the car and drive off toward your apartment. The ride is pretty long and eventually Max falls asleep in the seat. You’re tempted to do something funny to wake him up but you resist.

Eventually the clock strikes midnight and the moon is bright in the dark sky. You drive on the nearly empty roads, the only lights still on being the streetlights.

Max wakes up from his slumber and looks drowsily out the window, “We’re not home yet?”

He whines and leans back into his chair.

“Stop complaining…” You smile and chuckle.

Sometimes Max can be assertive and dominant; then there are other times where he’s comparable to a child. He whines more and kicks his feet out.

“You’re adorable.” You comment which makes his face brighten up and he smiles widely at you.

He plants a kiss on your cheek and gives you a mischievous looking smile. You shake your head while a small smile escapes.

His lips touch your cheek again and they’re ever so perfect. They make your cheeks feel amazing, it makes you feel on cloud nine. Just you and Max.

He takes advantage of the fact that you can’t do much back to him since you’re focused on driving and plants another kiss, this time closer to your neck.

Suddenly, you halt to a stop and pull over, which causes Max to get a little surprised. He glances in your direction as you lean over to kiss him on the forehead. He blushes red and looks away.

Before he knows it, you plant another kiss on his cheek, then another on his neck. His face is burning and you know it.

“Stop. I get it.” He whines.

“Do you not like it?” You pout at him.

“No- I love it.” He says.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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baileypie-writes · 11 months ago

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Hiii! I love your Velvet and Veneer writings, especially the ones with a younger sibling! Could you possibly do one with a 15-16 sibling who they’ve not seen in a long time due to their career, but once they do they realize the sibling is one of their musical techno rivals?

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy!

~Unknown Sibling Rivalry~

Velvet and Veneer + Musician!Younger Sibling!Reader

Random: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Synopsis: When Velvet and Veneer got to see you for the first time in a while, they were not expecting to also meet their rival.

Warnings: Rivalry, minor swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh gosh. How were you gonna tell them?

You’re the younger sibling of the famous pop stars, Velvet and Veneer. You always looked up to them, ever since you were a kid. So, you decided to make your own music, just like them.

You thought your techno songs wouldn’t get noticed, but to your surprise, your latest few songs were always on the top spots on the charts. Either behind or in front of your siblings’s.

At first, you were excited to share the news with them, but it became clear that they saw you as a rival. You planned on hiding it from them, but as you were on your way to visit them, you realized that might be more difficult than expected.

~~~~

Their house was… big. Way bigger than you expected. You knew they were rich, but damn.

Velvet and Veneer led you to the living room. The TV was on, and was playing a channel about trending music.

“Once again, (your music alias)’s new song is at the top of the charts! And Velvet and Veneer’s song is right behind them!” The reported stated.

Velvet scoffed. “Again? Really? Their music isn’t even that good…” You felt your heart crack, but kept your neutral expression up.

“Oh c’mon Velvet, I know you listen to their stuff all the time. Their music is pretty good. I mean, they are our rival after all.” Veneer said. You couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s so funny (name)?” Velvet asked.

“Nothing, I just can’t believe that you like my stuff.”

Shit.

You slapped your hand over your mouth. You turned towards the twins slowly, hoping that they somehow didn’t hear what you just said. There expressions proved that your prayers were not answered. Their eyes were wide, unblinking. And their mouths hung open.

“I’m sorry… what?” Velvet finally spoke after a good seven seconds.

“Hehehe… surprise?” You gave a subtle jazz hands movement, hoping to lighten the mood.

“You’re (your music alias)?!” Veneer said, pointing to the TV, which was discussing your success. You just nodded, cringing. The twins looked at each other in disbelief, then back at you. Then Veneer’s expression changed to one of pure excitement.

“No way! That’s so cool! I had no idea you were so talented! Great job (name)!” He caged his arm around your head, and gave you a noogie. You laughed, trying to wiggle out of his chokehold. But then, his knuckles stopped the painful grinding on your head, and he let out a dramatic gasp.

“Wait a minute. That means that you’ve been stealing our number one spot! How could you!” He puts his hand over his heart, acting way more offended than he actually was.

“Yeah! How could you do that?” Velvet chimed in. She seemed more genuinely upset, but still quite a bit proud.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry guys. I really didn’t expect my music to get so much attention. It just sorta happened.” You stared down at your shoes, as if you were being scolded by your parents.

Velvet huffed. “Well, I guess we’re gonna have to do better next time.” Veneer nodded at her statement.

You looked back up at them. “Next time?”

“Yeah, you’re our rival, aren’t you? So that means we have to do everything we can to beat you!” Velvet said, giving your shoulder a playful jab.

You laughed. “Well good luck. You’re gonna need it, because I’m planning on continuing my winning streak!”

The twins smirked at each other, before caging you in both their arms, and giving your head more noogies.

And thus sparked the start of a colorful sibling rivalry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

#trolls 3 band together #trolls 3 #trolls 3 x reader #trolls 3 velvet #trolls 3 veneer #trolls velvet #trolls veneer #velvet x reader platonic #veneer x reader platonic #velvet x reader #veneer x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Once Upon a Time 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t mind working evenings during the week. In the hour before closing time, it’s pretty slow. There isn’t much for you to do much follow the tune of the instrumental jazz and lean on the counter behind your till. Management is hidden in the back office so you don’t even need to pretend to work.

So it is that you’re startled at the unexpected figure strutting around the table of stationary and novelties across from the checkout. You stand straight as you smile at the man, not letting it falter as you recognise him. You brace yourself and swallow as your mouth runs dry. He’s been here almost every day this week; at least, when you’ve been in.

“Oh, uh,” you don’t notice anything in his hands aside from his cell phone, “Mr. Pine isn’t here, sir. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t reply until he’s at the counter. His blue eyes bore into you as he rests his hand against the edge, gripping his phone tight. A small furrow scrunches between his brows.

“I didn’t ask,” he smiles.

“Well, er, sorry, I thought…” you chew your lip nervously. Each time he’s been in, he’s asked for the store owner. You assume he knows him. And he’s of the demographic who likes to make a fuss when he doesn’t get what he wants. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, still grinning.

You squirm and run your fingertips over the keyboard. “Well, is there anything I can help you find? We’re closing up soon–”

“You’re trying to get me to leave?” He challenges.

“Not at all,” you croak. “Sorry, sir.”

“Andy,” he pulls his hand away, instead crossing his arms and leaning his elbows on the counter. He reads your name tag, “it’s fine. I was just looking around. Figure a book might help keep me busy.”

He has a very intense way of watching you. Very on the point. He speaks directly to you, but you’re more the type to focus above someone or past them.

“Do you have a favourite genre?” You prompt. It’s easiest to talk about work and you have a dozen suggestions.

“Not really. You know, I work a lot and I never really had a chance to read much outside of deposition records,” he shrugs and raises his eyebrows, “don’t make my mistakes. Don’t waste your life working overtime. Enjoy the small things. Like books, you’re never gonna find a fairytale in real life.”

You feel a bit bad for him but try not to show it. You don’t want to insult it and he seems to pendulum between amiable and unapproachable. You nod and put on your customer service smile.

“Oh, thanks, I guess you’re probably right,” you eke out, “do you like thrillers? They’re pretty popular and we’re having a special.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s somewhere to start,” he rubs his beard, the hand clutching his phone against the counter as he leans on the same elbow, “what do you read?”

You give your usual answer, vague and not entirely false, “fantasy, mostly.”

“Like The Hobbit or whatever?” He wonders.

“Sure, I’ve read that,” you say.

“My wife– ex, now, she was a Tolkien fan,” his lips slant, “twenty years, no kids. Got nothing to show for it.” He pushes himself straight, “I’m sorry, you caught me on a bad night. I, whatever you suggest, I’ll take it. I need something to get my mind off of… everything.”

“Oh, sure, well, we have our best sellers down here,” you point over the counter and the racks between each till, “Conrad’s always a good choice.”

He hums and backs up. He peruses the books silently as you twiddle your fingers impatiently. You’ve had awkward encounters with customers before, almost daily, but something about him is a bit too cringe for you. You hate to even think like that. You feel mean. He’s just going through some things. And who isn't?

He plucks up a book and comes back to your till. He lays it down and slides his phone into his pants pocket, then reaches under his jacket. He takes out his wallet and pauses as he unfolds it, “wait, do you get commission? I could grab a few more.”

“Um, no,” you login and scan the barcode on the book, “but there’s a survey on you receipt. If you fill that out, I get credit for that.”

“Oh, sure, a survey,” he agrees as he slides out a card.

“And did you have our rewards card?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “what’s that?”

Great. You peek at the time in the corner of the till screen. It’s getting close to closing.

“So, for purchases you collect points. Kinda like air miles. When you buy items that are part of a promotion, you receive double, and for prestige members, there are triple point days. You can collect points to earn store credit.”

He nods and considers it. He tilts his head as his cheek dimples, “so, that costs money?”

“Yes, twenty-five dollars for paperback level and forty for prestige.”

He weighs the options. You expect the amounts to deter him like most customers. He taps his card on the counter, “you know what, I’ll do the forty. I’m looking to get into reading so I’ll be back for sure.”

“Oh, uh, right, okay,” you say with surprise, “I’ll just get you registered.”

You reach past the till and grab one of the cards displayed behind it. You scan it and go through the whole routine; name, phone number, email. You get all his info in and offer him a bag before you turn the debit machine towards him. He taps his card and the approval chirps loudly.

“Great, so, if you wanna do the survey,” you say as his receipt prints out, “you can scan this QR code and it will direct you straight to the survey.” You tear off the receipt and circle at the bottom, “my employee number is here, you’ll have to enter that and the transaction ID.”

You fold the receipt and hand it over. He takes it and looks it over with a squint. He raises his chin and gives a half-smile, “um, this QR thing? How do I… I’m sorry, I’m a bit slow. Could you show me?”

You want to say no. You want to point to the clock and tell him to have a good day but he’s actually going to do the survey. You need a good review.

“Sure, um, I’ll show you. Just on your phone,” you step closer as he digs his hand in his pants pocket, “let me see the receipt.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, “you’re so patient with me.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #bookstore au #au #series #once upon a time #defending jacob

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domnamewoman · 1 year ago

Note

love love love your submissive mk writing. 😽😽😽 Please write femdom!reader and sub!Johnny, girl I’m begging.

Title: Let Me Please You

Summary: You feel like Johnny hasn’t been making you a priority lately, so you make him regret it. (I don’t know 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Warnings: Dom!Fem!Reader x Sub!Johnny Cage, Smut, 18+

Word Count: 1,937

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

You place the last fork on the table and stand back to admire your work. The table is elegantly set for two, with lit candles and a floral centerpiece as decoration. You smooth your hands down your silk, spaghetti-strap dress as you check off your to-do list in your head. The table is set, candles are lit, dinner is cooling on the counter, drinks are chilled, and the Bluetooth speaker is emanating some smooth romantic jazz throughout your home. The only thing missing is Johnny. Your cell phone buzzes as if on cue.

“Right on time.”

You happily jog to the kitchen to retrieve your phone from the island. Smiling to yourself, you unlock your phone and open Johnny’s message. Your smile quickly turns into a frown once you read its contents.

Johnny:

Hey babe, I won’t be home until later. Producers are going out for drinks.

You:

Johnny, we were supposed to have a romantic evening together. I made dinner and everything.

Johnny:

I know, I’m sorry hun, but Daniel Evans is going to be there. I’ve been trying to brush shoulders with him for a while. It’s the perfect time to pitch him the screenplay I’ve been working on. I promise I’ll make it up to you.

“Urrgh,” You groan as your eyes roll. Sure you supported Johnny’s career, but you can’t help feeling like you are constantly being put on the back burner.

Annoyed, you don’t bother responding and put your phone back on the island. Whatever, you won’t let Johnny’s absence ruin your night.

You walk to the table, collect Johnny’s dishes, and put them away, then grab your plate and walk over to the homemade lasagna resting near the stove. You serve yourself some pasta and grab a piece of garlic bread. After pouring yourself something to drink you sit at the table with your food.

Taking a bite of lasagna, you moan around your fork as flavor explodes on your tongue. You did your thing, sis! You compliment yourself as you take your time, savoring every bite. Johnny was truly missing out.

After you finish, you blow out the candles, then take your dishes to the sink and clean them. You might as well, right? You place the leftover lasagna into a Tupperware container and put it away. You turn off the Bluetooth speaker on your way to your bedroom.

You sigh as you slip out of your dress. You really didn’t think you would be undressing yourself tonight. You enter the connecting bathroom and start to run yourself a bath.

You pick up Johnny’s favorite bathbomb and toss it into the tub. If only Johnny knew just how much you planned for him. The jerk.

Reaching over to shut off the water, you climb into the tub and take a seat. The warm water envelops you and you feel your muscles start to relax. You breathe in the calming scents of jasmine and vanilla and sink further into the tub, splashing water over your neck and shoulders. You really were in need of a pamper evening.

You soak in the water until it turns cold and your fingers are pruney. Unstopping the drain, you exit the tub and wrap your fluffy towel around your body. You make your way to the bedroom feeling completely relaxed.

Running the towel over your skin, you collect all the droplets of water. Once dry, you throw the towel into the hamper and make your way to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, you pull out your favorite vibrator and caress it fondly. It's been a while.

You walk to the foot of the bed and splay out, not bothering to move up to the top. You drop the vibrator next to you as you feel your arousal from the past week hit you full force. You aren’t in a rush, you will take your time enjoying yourself.

You run your hands over your abdomen and knead the soft flesh. Your hands trail up to your boobs and you cup the lobes, giving them a gentle squeeze. You release a needy moan as you tease your nipples between your fingers. The pinches and twists send tingles of pleasure straight to your core.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you trail one of your hands down to your pussy and feel your wetness coat your fingers. Using your middle finger, you rub circles into your clit. Your head tilts back in pleasure.

“Yeees…” You moan out, increasing your speed.

“Baby?” You hear Johnny call out from the living room. When did he get back? You must have been too distracted to hear the front door open. Oh well, his arrival changes nothing.

Johnny opens the door to your bedroom and pauses in the doorway.

“Baby…”

You can swear you hear him gulp as his eyes rake over you. You know you are a sight to behold, spread out on the bed completely naked, hand between your thighs. Too bad. He could have had all of this had he come home. You ignore him and release another moan as you let your legs fall open a little wider. You aren’t above putting on a show.

“Look, I-I’m sorry for coming home late.” He tries, as he inches into the bedroom toward the end of the bed.

“I’m used to it,” You say as you slowly insert three fingers inside yourself.

“Come on, love…” Johnny rushes to the foot of the bed looking down at you. “It was a rare chance to get Daniel Evans to look at my work. You understand, right?”

“Of course I do, Jonathan.”

Johnny whines at the use of his full name and he sinks to his knees in front of you. “No, I’m your Johnny boy, Jon Jon, Sexy J-”

“When have I ever called you that?”

“-The point is, you never call me Jonathan unless you're mad.”

“Well, I’m not happy.”

“I’m sorry. I know we haven’t had a lot of time together recently,” He rushes to finish when you start to interject, “And that’s completely on me. I’ll make more of an effort to not let work interfere with our time.”

You could never stay mad a him for long. Softie.

“Ugh, fine. Now shut up, you are ruining the vibe,” You complain as you curl your fingers inside of you.

Johnny grips both of your ankles and pulls them up so your knees are bent and your feet are resting on the edge of the bed. Johnny starts running his hands up and down your calves as he kisses your knee and makes his way down to your thigh.

“You know, I’d love to help with your vibe.”

“Thanks, but my “vibe” doesn’t need any help,” You quip as you reach over and grab your vibrator from where you dropped it earlier.

“Are you serious?” Johnny asks incredulously.

“Absolutely, you still need to be punished for blowing me off earlier. You aren’t allowed to touch me until I say you can. Now hands off,” You say as you swat at his hands resting on your calves.

Johnny begrudgingly lets go and sits back on his heels, hands resting on his thighs.

You raise up and support your upper body with one elbow as you swipe the vibrator along your folds, coating it in your juices. You start to guide it into your entrance and look up at Johnny.

His eyes are trained on the vibrator slowly disappearing in your pussy. His tongue darts out and runs over his lips. You know he wants nothing more than to have his mouth on you. Johnny loved eating you out and pulling moan after moan from you. You loved letting him do it.

“Mmmh…” You begin to push and pull the vibrator in and out of you faster and faster.

“Please…” Johnny gasps.

You knew it wouldn’t take him long to start begging. The only kink that rivaled Johnny’s love of giving oral, was his need for praise. He felt as though every moan you made was a tiny compliment of how good he was and how good he made you feel. You know he can’t stand watching a vibrator give you the pleasure that he should be giving you and drawing out moans that he should be receiving. You decide to torture him a little more.

Using your thumb to press a button on the vibrator, you arch your back as it buzzes to life.

“Oh my… Yes! Ha-aaah… it feels so good!” You exclaim as you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Please…” You roll your head around to focus your eyes back on Johnny. His fists are clenched tight in an effort to not reach out and touch you. “Please baby, let me make you cum.”

You smirk at him. “Hmm… I don’t know Johnny, this vibrator is doing a pretty good job. Mmm… Think you’ll be any better?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I know I will.”

He stares at you with desperate determination. His carnal desire to pleasure you coils something in your stomach and is almost enough to make you cum right now.

“Prove it.”

Johnny snatches the vibrator out of your hand and tosses it to the side. He quickly pulls your legs over his shoulders and starts devouring you like a starving man.

You bite your lip to hold back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction so soon.

He takes your silence as a challenge and inserts three of his fingers into you, immediately curling them up and finding your G-spot. Johnny prided himself on knowing your body like the back of his hand.

You decide you have punished him enough. How can you not reward your baby when he is being so good and pleasuring you like this?

“Yes, baby… just like that! Mmm… you are doing so good for me!” You run your fingers through his hair and tug on it just the way he likes.

Johnny moans around your clit and the vibrations pull you closer to the edge.

“Uuh… Johnny… a-are you going to be a good boy… a-and make me cum?”

Johnny nods into you and starts quickly flicking his tongue over your clit and drills his fingers into you faster, hitting your G-spot every time. Your back arches and you grip his hair in one hand and the sheets in the other.

“Yes! That’s it, baby… Uuh you feel so good! Mmm… I-I’m so… close… Ah… Johnny!”

You clench around his fingers as you drown them in your release. Johnny slows to a stop and gently removes his fingers, kissing your inner thigh and looking up at you adoringly.

You moan, coming down from your high, and grab at him, pulling him on top of you. Johnny wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your neck and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“So, was I better than the vibrator?” Johnny asks, raising his head to look at you.

You playfully roll your eyes and huff out, “Yes Johnny, you were better than the vibrator.”

“Yes! Cage for the win. Nothing and no one can make you cum like I can.”

“Sure, sure. Speaking of, do you need some help?” You pointedly grind up into him and are surprised when you don’t feel his erection.

“Are you kidding? Do you think I can hear you moaning for me like that and not shoot a load in my pants?”

You shake your head as you chuckle at the fact he came untouched. “You are such a praise slut.”

“Hey, why do you think I’m an actor?”

#domnamewoman #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #jonathan carlton #mk #mk1

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