#My gifs are beginning to look worse than I thought. -_-
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2tarbell · 2 months ago
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vanilla birthday cake — send some dialogue 4 a short drabble with rafe + any of my !readers
mean!rafe + crybaby!reader “i don’t wanna know”
HAKSJSKSJKS
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MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
participate in my bday celebration!!!
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rafe had had just about enough. he wasn’t very patient to begin with but he was trying to be better — for her.
his poor little girlfriend that had a never ending supply of sorrow and tears. normally, around him, she was content as could be. and he was happy to indulge her and be the one to soothe her when external factors hurt her sensitive heart.
but she just wouldn’t stop crying.
today, she had to have set a new record. whimpering away next to him while rafe tried to get some work done on his computer. she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working, but crybaby just needed some attention. some love.
what if he was all quiet ‘cause he realized how annoying she was? what if—
“okay, what’s a-matter?”
her watery eyes flickered up to his deep blue and thundering ones.
rafe stared at her impatienty — fingers poised as if about to start typing. but his eyes held a question in them. an intensity that makes crybaby shrink into herself, eyes shifting and babbling for an answer while her shaky hands played with the buttons on her shirt.
“wha—? oh, um, s’nothing…”
not a good liar, but even worse at holding eye contact. rafe huffed and closed the laptop abruptly. he spread his legs further, setting the device somewhere beside him. she could be so difficult sometimes.
“kid, you’re over there, sniffin’ and shit — what’s the problem?” his voice was gruff and low, but so familiar and comforting in its own way. running a hand over his buzzed head in a way that always sent her heart racing.
“well, uh, i— i jus’— um…” the stuttered words came out clumsily, not a coherent thought in her head as she stared wide eyed at him. tears began to well anew.
“okay, okay— shut up. i don’t wanna know anymore, jus’— c’mere.”
god, she looked dumb with that look on her face. all frozen and tense as he tries to coax her closer. like a deer and a hunter.
rafe tilts his head to the side, a small smirk settling on his lips. he sees the moment she relaxes; eyes still wet and lip still trembling but she’s scooting closer nonetheless.
he scoops crybaby into his lap, strong arms circling her and pulling her into his chest. rafe sighs like it’s hard work — but the concerned furrow of his brow says otherwise.
she’s still sniffing, nuzzling her face further and further into his chest as she straddles him. trying to disappear fully into his warmth and affection. it’s like just being in his arms sends her into a daze. it’s made worse by his hand pulling her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.
“what’s wrong, baby?”
her rafe. that soft mumble only she’s privy to. his gentleness entirely reserved for her, for her moments of need. yet, she loves when he’s mean to her — in that dirty, knowing way he is. when her heart just feels so heavy and she doesn’t wanna think anymore. she craves that fuzziness only he can make her feel, a warmth pooling in her underwear. she needs it.
her voice is meek and barely audible when she huffs, “i jus’— today was so—”
rafe rolls his eyes, but tugs her closer. pressing firm kisses to her hairline and letting her ramble on about all the hard things she went through. she doesn’t register his wandering hands. it’s only when his fingertips are breaching her lace panties when she finally notices how he’s pushed her skirt up.
“hmf— rafey—”
her slickness makes a groan vibrate through his chest, fingers pressing forward until he’s prodding at that spongey spot just right. crybaby is hiccuping and sniffling again — eyes pitifully squeezed shut from the intrusion.
“shuddap, let daddy do this, yeah? getchu to stop whinin’ for once.”
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based off this little thing i wrote!!!
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cake-writes · 10 months ago
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Just This Once
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Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, he gets lost in the sauce frfr, situationship… ish?, this man wants to RUN, disorganised attachment style (primarily avoidant), penis in vagina sex, teasing, edging (accidental), unprotected sex, creampie
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Kakashi discovers that he has a breeding kink. It's kind of a spiritual experience.
Inspired by @rookie98writes's fic Leave It On
Kakashi isn’t used to the strange sort of domesticity that comes with being in a... whatever this is. It’s not quite a relationship. A situationship, maybe. He’d say it’s something more than friends-with-benefits, but the two of you aren’t really friends, either.  
You come together every now and then. That’s all. Like two passing ships in the night. 
So why is he standing in front of your stove, cooking dinner while you sort through the pile of unopened mail on your kitchen table? Why did he offer to water your plants while you were gone? Why does he want to do anything for you? 
Kakashi knows what it’s like trying to play catch-up after some time away from home—two months, in your case. He’d knocked on your door a few minutes ago with the intention of returning your key, and he must have caught you right after you got back from the store if the two bags of groceries on your kitchen counter were any indication. 
You looked so dead on your feet that Kakashi took over from there, unprompted. But now, as he stirs the pot of flavourful soup simmering away on the stove, his mind sees fit to wander.  
What the hell is he doing?  
He’s getting too attached. That’s what he’s doing.  
It’s that time again—time to cut and run, just as he always does when things start to become complicated. Kakashi makes a habit of ending any potential connection before it can even start, because he can’t afford to lose anyone else. He can’t get hurt if he never lets anyone in. It’s easier that way. 
“I need to schedule my injection,” you mutter to yourself as you read through one particular letter. Then you sigh and toss it back down onto the table, before you lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. “We should probably get used to using condoms again until I can book an appointment.” 
Your birth control must be overdue, then.  
“Sure,” Kakashi answers, feigning unbothered. The two of you used condoms in the beginning, but after a particularly gruesome mission that nearly saw him home in a box, Kakashi stopped reaching for the bedside drawer, and you stopped asking him to.  
He should have known then that he was getting too attached. 
Still, it’s your body. Whatever you want. He’ll end things in the morning either way. 
As Kakashi samples a bit of the soup he’s minding on the stove, pausing for a moment to add a bit more salt, it suddenly sinks in – really sinks in – what could happen if the two of you aren’t careful.  
He could get you pregnant. 
A jolt of arousal shoots through him.
Kakashi doesn’t want children, not now, not ever, which is why it doesn’t make a lick of sense that such a thing would turn him on. He likes the idea of his seed taking root inside of you. He might even enjoy it, the imagery his mind conjures—you bent over for him, begging him to give you a baby, your pretty yukata hiked up around your waist…  
His clan crest embroidered on the back of it.  
Kakashi swears.
You startle, looking over at him in alarm. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” he lies. Then he proceeds to play it off like he burned himself, but he isn’t fine. No, that single thought, that single fantasy, scares the complete and utter shit out of him—but it turns him on even more, and that’s so much worse.  
He’s already too attached. 
Kakashi doesn’t do feelings. He has them, of course, much like any other person, but he doesn’t let them show very often, and he certainly doesn’t talk about them. He won’t say in so many words that he cares; instead, he shows you through his actions alone. 
His knees brush the underside of your thighs as he settles between your legs, bracing himself with one hand beside your head.  
What a vision you make, spread out for him like this.  
Your lamp had blown when you went to turn it on, leaving the streetlights to illuminate your features in a sickly hue of yellow-green. It isn’t romantic in the least, but he can’t help thinking that you’ve never looked more beautiful than in this moment—maybe because it’s the last time he’ll ever get to see you like this.  
The sight of you, so needy and wanting, fills his chest with something bittersweet.  
The tomoe of his sharingan spins lazily as he memorises the curves of your body, the muss of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest as you work to recover from your first orgasm of the night. His fingers are still tacky with your essence, and he smears the residual wetness over the head of his cock.
“You should wear a condom,” comes your breathy whisper, but you make no move to stop him. Your eyes almost seem to glow as you peer up at him in the dark, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. 
“Mm. Do you want me to?” 
His question hangs heavy in the air. The only things Kakashi can hear are your soft breaths and the sound of his own steady heartbeat, which quickens with every silent second that passes.  
You want to say no, he realises.  
He wants you to say no. 
“I like it better without,” you answer quietly, and the implication isn’t lost on him. Not when you look up at him with those big doe eyes, like you don’t know the risk. 
Because there is a risk, and he knows it. Kakashi hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it all night—wicked thoughts, terrible thoughts—thoughts of filling your fertile womb with his seed, thoughts of watching your belly grow round with his child, thoughts of seeing his clan sigil stamped between your shoulder blades like a mark of ownership. 
His.  
Against his better judgement, Kakashi does exactly what he shouldn’t do. He agrees.
“Just this once.”  
Just like he says every other time—except every other time, there's never been a risk.
Your coy little smile prompts him to lower down onto an arm and settle more of his weight on you. Kakashi dips his head to kiss you indulgently, savouring the taste of you, the feel of you beneath him. He kisses you like he hopes to convey just how much he missed you while you were gone, like you might be able to taste the unspoken words that linger in his mouth. 
He kisses you like he means it—and he does. That’s why he needs to go. 
As his tongue twines with yours, Kakashi fills you in a slow, beautiful glide that wrenches a whimper from your throat. He knows he should go easy on you, but he relishes in the rapid flutter of your walls as you struggle to adjust to him after so much time apart. A surge of masculine pride washes over him, tinged with a hint of guilt for stretching you open like this. He isn’t exactly small, after all, but you take him so well. 
To ease any potential discomfort, he smooths his hand up the silky skin of your thigh in a soothing caress, before he trails gentle, placating kisses along your jawline. “Is this okay?” Kakashi asks, voice low, only to be rewarded with a particularly strong contraction that makes his toes curl. 
“More than okay,” you sigh. 
As a test, he shifts his hips. When Kakashi hears your breath hitch, he knows that you can handle more.  
He starts slow, rocking into you sensually, but he already knows that he isn’t going to last. It’s been just as long for him, and you’re tighter than you’ve ever been.  
“God, Kakashi, you feel so good.”  
So do you. Kakashi sucks a bruise on your neck in response, if only to muffle the sound of his own pleasure when your perfect cunt clenches around him again.  
He needs to pace himself, or he’ll finish too soon—but then you ask him for more, and what else can he do but oblige you?
He speeds up, not overly so, just enough that both of you can hear the slick, sloppy sounds of your lovemaking. The smell of your arousal permeates the air, and he’s tempted to have another taste. 
Later. 
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. “Did you miss me that much?” 
Maybe he’s reassurance-seeking – just a little – but your answering whine tells him what he already knows. 
He’ll miss this. He’ll miss you. That’s why he needs to go. 
Kakashi doesn't want to think about that. He just wants to enjoy what little time with you he has left.
“Stay with me,” you rasp. You’ve always been good at noticing when he’s stuck in his head, but right now, Kakashi can’t help but wonder if you’ve just read his thoughts. You see through him so easily. It’s one of the things he likes about you. 
“Sorry,” he says with genuine apology, leaning in to capture your lips again. You let out a pleased hum into his mouth and lift your thighs up a little higher—an offering, one he’s more than happy to accept, even if he doesn’t plan to reciprocate your vulnerability.
It’s selfish, he knows. 
The new angle does something to him, or maybe it’s because he's well aware that it would be even easier to fill you up this way. He reaches deeper like this, and the tilt of your hips would perfectly hold his cum in place, increasing the chances that it’ll take. 
He wants it to take. 
Kakashi exhales a long, shaky breath. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does. He shouldn’t want it at all.  
“Close?”  
Yes, but he’s not going to tell you that. Kakashi pulls back to look at you, only to find you gazing up at him like he’s hung the moon. It makes his heart ache.  
He stamps it down. “I could be,” he teases lightly—a non-answer. “Are you?” 
When you open your mouth to respond, however, he snaps his hips forward suddenly to make you trip over your words. “I—shit,” you swear, and his eyes shine with silent laughter. Your own narrow playfully as you add, “I could be too, if you keep that up.”  
“Really?” 
To pick on you a little, Kakashi withdraws from your tight heat more slowly than he has all night, agonisingly slowly, until only the head of him remains inside; and then he lingers there, purposely, until the stirrings of impatience start to take you over.  
It’s cute, the frown you give him, the pout he sees beginning to form. “Don’t be mean,” you tell him sulkily. 
His lips tug up at the corners, revealing a hint of prominent canine. “Maa, I didn’t realise you were in a rush,” Kakashi drawls. “And here I wanted to take my time with you.”  
Before you can read too much into what he’s just said, he slams home. Hard.
Your startled gasp brings on a flicker of self-satisfaction deep within. Kakashi relishes in the knowledge that only he can make you feel like this—especially when he starts to fuck you in earnest, prompting you to fling your arms around his shoulders.  
“F-Fuck, Kakashi, oh my god—” 
“That’s it,” he encourages gently. “Hold onto me.”
He likes the closeness of it, the intimacy.
You cling to him like your life depends on it, which brings about a funny feeling in his chest that he can’t quite shake—something warm and gooey and affectionate.  
Kakashi stamps that down, too, and traces the line of your neck with his tongue, kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin until you shiver. Seeing your throat so littered with love bites unearths something within him, something primal that he’s always refused to name. He likes seeing the marks he’s left on you. He wants them to mean something.
He wants them to mean that you’re his. 
He’s too attached. 
To distract himself from what he intends to do in the morning, Kakashi picks up the pace, flesh smacking against flesh as he drives his hips into yours, fast and rough, exactly how you want it.  
It won't last long. He’s too worked up. 
Kakashi knows he’ll come before you do if he continues like this, but when he tries to slow down, you dig your heels insistently into his ass. 
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, please—” 
“I’ll have to pull out soon,” he says raggedly, even though the thought of finishing in you already has him ready to blow.
When Kakashi feels you lock your ankles behind him, he nearly does.  
“I want it inside,” you whine, your breath fanning hot over the shell of his ear.  
His thoughts screech to a halt. You want him to come inside you, knock you up— 
“Fuck,” he curses, stopping abruptly, buried all the way to the hilt. His cock throbs wildly, desperate for release, forcing him to tightly grip the the sheets above your head in order to stave it off. 
If he moves right now, he’s done for.  
When you make a quiet, frustrated sound deep in your throat and wiggle your hips, Kakashi barely manages to hang on. He can feel that tell-tale flutter inside of you, the one that indicates exactly how close you are, but he’s closer. His breaths come out in short, sharp pants as he tries to hold himself together.  
You finish first. Always. 
“Don’t be mean,” you say again, but you sound a little more petulant this time.  
Kakashi lets out an exhausted sort of laugh and presses a wet smack of a kiss against your cheek, making you giggle. “You like it when I’m mean.”  
“I like it when you’re nice,” you clap back, voice breathy. 
Kakashi hums knowingly. “All right. I can be nice.”  
Then he pulls back just enough to pepper your face with kisses, and you squeal in delight, though it soon tapers off into a moan when he starts to trail them down your throat, each one more sensual than the last. He palms one of your breasts, gently squeezing, tweaking a nipple— 
“Come on,” you whine, digging your heels into his ass a second time. 
No more teasing. You want him to be nice.
You inhale sharply when Kakashi picks back up where he left off, this time with quick, shallow thrusts that target your g-spot. He smooths his hand down your side, savouring the softness of your skin, then he slides it in between your bodies to rub your clit in just the way you like—the way he remembers you like, because he’s too fucking attached. And sure enough, when your hips buck from the added sensation, he knows that it’s working for you. 
“If you—If you edge me again, I swear to god—” 
Upon hearing the indignation in your voice, Kakashi laughs softly. “I won’t.” 
Then he remembers that he won’t have a chance to edge you again. Not after tonight. 
His jaw tenses at the reminder. 
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, holding onto him, needing him, which pulls him right back into the present. “Come with me. Please?” 
Kakashi bites back a groan and slides in deeper, readying to do what his body craves. 
No. He can’t come with you. He’d have to finish inside in order for that to happen. 
And just like that, he’s back to teetering on the edge. The filth his mind conjures nearly proves to be his undoing—a vivid image of your tight, wet cunt wringing out every drop of his cum until it takes, tying you to him, making you need him. Making you his. The threat of it simmers under his skin, but it’s starting to feel more like a guarantee. 
Get her there, then pull out. 
Kakashi repeats those words in his head like a mantra, over and over, like it’ll ensure that he lasts, and it works—at least until you start to move your hips in time with his thrusts. You meet him at the perfect angle, sucking him deep on every stroke, allowing him to slide just beyond your cervix and into that spot that sends your voice into a fever pitch. 
A choked sob escapes you as you rake your nails down his back, leaving red lines in your wake. The sting of it only sends him higher, and he sinks his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder to prevent himself from blowing too soon. 
“Right there, Kakashi, right fucking there—” 
Right there, so deep within you that if he came right now— 
He groans when he imagines what would happen, and it all ends with his baby in your belly and his family crest on your back. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, yet he fucks into you with purpose, now—hard, deep, powerful thrusts that knock your headboard into the wall. 
Kakashi knows exactly what that purpose is. The primal part of his brain won’t let him forget it. 
“Yes, just like that, fuck me, make me fucking yours—” 
He kisses you to shut you up, because if he hears another syllable, he’s sure to fill you to the brim. It’s not a gentle kiss, not now. He holds your head in place with a firm grip on your jaw, shoves his tongue into your mouth, and still, he recites his mantra. 
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then pull out.  
Get her there, then—  
You jerk your head away to gulp in a breath of fresh air, chest heaving from exertion, and Kakashi’s eyes sweep over your face for any sign of discomfort. What he finds is the opposite, and he drinks in the pleasured scrunch of your brows, the hazy flutter of your eyelids, the kiss-swollen state of your lips. 
Watching your muscles tense and strain as you struggle to keep your eyes on his is one of the most intimate things he’s ever experienced. “Come inside me,” you beg, and he can hear the desperation there, see it written all over your pretty face. “I need it, I fucking need it, Kakashi, give me your cum—” 
“I’ll give it to you,” he chokes out. Anything for you. Anything you want. 
The way your fingers wrench into his hair belies a hunger that matches his own as you drag him down for another kiss, messy and insistent, demanding that he make good on his promise to pump you full. He can feel the ripple of your inner walls as you come undone, feel the painfully tight squeeze of your legs around his waist, holding him there, ensuring that he stays; and never in his life has he felt so overwhelmed.  
He can’t pull out. Not now. Not when you’re so willing to milk him dry. 
Kakashi kisses you with everything that he is as he shoves himself impossibly deep inside of you, acting solely on instinct to drown your cervix in hot, sticky spend. He lets out a sound of pure male satisfaction that you eagerly swallow down, your tongue massaging his in tune with every erratic jerk of his hips as he empties himself inside of you, painting your insides white.
It feels good. It feels right. 
He’s too attached. 
He doesn’t care. 
As he comes down from his high, all Kakashi can think about is how fucking risky it is, what he’s just done, which only ruins him more when the post-orgasm clarity finally hits. 
Why the hell did he do that?  
What the hell did he do?
Your thighs tremble and shake, a sign that he’s done his job well, though he feels no pride in it—just a growing sense of panic.  
He needs to go. He needs to go right now. Not tomorrow. Now. He needs to get the hell out of here and never look back, right fucking now.  
Then he hears your quiet sob, and his heart leaps into his throat. Kakashi jerks his head down to look at you, and when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, he actually does panic.  
“Did I—Shit,” he quickly pulls out to check on you, more attentive than he’s ever been, “Did I hurt you?” 
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s accidentally hurt a woman during sex, but he really should have taken it easier on you. He probably went too deep, hit your cervix too hard. 
“No,” you sniffle. “I’m fine. I just... I really missed you.” 
Fuck. Don’t say that. You’ll make him want to stay.  
His eyes soften as they trail over your features – the colour of your irises, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips – and he gently smooths your tears away with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t hurt you?” 
You shake your head and offer him a watery smile. “I also came really, really hard,” you add matter-of-factly, and he huffs out a relieved laugh. It’s hormonal, then. “They’re happy tears, Kakashi. Calm down.” 
Teasing or not, someone telling him of all people to calm down is an otherworldly experience. The phrase lands strangely, and for the first time since he came to see you tonight, his thoughts quiet down to a dull background murmur. 
They’re happy tears, you said. 
You’re happy with him. 
He’s happy with you, too. He doesn’t want to go. 
You frown, then, and lean up onto your elbows to look at him more closely. “What’s wrong?”  
Kakashi can’t be sure what you see in his expression to warrant that sort of question, but the fight finally leaves him. He sits back on his heels and drags a hand down his face, feeling defeated for a reason he can’t explain.  
“I was just...” Happy, for a moment. Happy to be with you. “Worried,” he finishes lamely. He can’t look at you, not when he feels the heat of a blush creeping up his neck. 
You laugh and gently cup the side of his face, turning him back towards you. “Okay. Well, I’m fine,” you pat his cheek in playful reprimand, “but I am leaking all over my clean sheets, and it’s your fault, so...”  
That draws his attention. When Kakashi sees the creamy mess spilling out of you, his flaccid cock twitches with interest even after he remembers why his stomach is in knots.  
“Sorry,” he says hoarsely, transfixed by the sight. 
He wants to do it again.
He shouldn’t want to do it again. He feels fucking crazy for having done it once already, when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship, let alone in any way prepared for a child. But again? A second time? He’d have to be certifiably insane. 
“It’s fine,” you reassure him, and Kakashi wonders how the hell you can possibly be taking it so in stride. He came a lot. There’s so much of it dripping out onto the sheets that it’s starting to create a small puddle under your ass, and there’s even more inside of you—a lot more, judging by how hard he came. 
It might take. It might seriously take, and you think it’s fine? 
“You’re doing it again,” you tell him, and his eyes snap back up to yours. He’s in his head again, you mean. Then you chew your lip for a moment, hesitation evident, before you ask carefully, “You’ve been acting a little… off tonight. Is everything okay?”  
Every single one of his instincts is telling him to run. That’s where this conversation always leads, but he’s not ready for it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine.” 
When you frown at him, skeptical, Kakashi shifts uncomfortably under your gaze.  
“Okay. I won’t pry. But, um, I’m here. You know. If you ever need to talk.” You say it a little awkwardly, like you aren’t sure if he’d be offended by the suggestion, and the worried crease between your brows only grows at whatever you see in his expression. “Or... Or not.” 
You laugh nervously, then, and shift away from him, only to wrinkle your nose when more of his cum oozes out of you.  
It’s cute. You’re cute. 
“You said it’s fine. Why?” The question leaves him before he even thinks it through, but it’s too late, now.  
“What?” 
This wasn’t the first time he’s come inside of you, not by a long shot, but it’s certainly the riskiest. “I finished inside. Aren’t you upset?” 
“What do you mean? You finish inside me all the—” Then you stop, and your brows shoot straight up onto your forehead. “Wait, is this about my birth control?”  
“Well, it’s overdue, isn’t it?”  
You stare at him for a prolonged moment, and he can almost see the gears turning in your head. Then your nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me? You thought my birth control was overdue, and you still—” Scandalised, you slap him on the arm. “Kakashi!” 
Oh. Well. It must not be overdue yet, then. 
Of course you wouldn’t let him come inside if there was a chance that you might conceive. He’s a fucking idiot. 
“That’s so bad! What if you got me pregnant?” 
A lick of heat shoots up his spine upon hearing you give voice to what’s been on his mind all night. Kakashi stares at you, wide eyed, and blushes all the way to the tips of his ears.  
You study his face for a moment, before you purse your lips, looking a little troubled. Or pissed off. He can’t really tell. “I mean... Did you want to get me pregnant?” 
“No,” he rushes to say, his cheeks burning hot because yes, he did, but not for real.  “No. Not at all. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and...”  
And how the hell is he supposed to explain himself? Neither of you are exactly vanilla, you’ve explored a number of kinks together, but this is something else entirely. Then again, a breeding kink would make the most sense out of any, considering it stems from a biological urge to procreate. 
But would you even believe him if he said he only gets off to the fantasy of it, and not the reality? Because if a woman ever said that to him, he’d get the hell out of dodge as fast as he could. 
A sly smile tugs at your lips, then, a knowing smile, and Kakashi quickly averts his eyes to the window, embarrassed. 
“You like it, don’t you?” you hum, seductively walking your fingers along his bare shoulders. “You like the idea of knocking me up.” 
Refusing to look at you, Kakashi clears his throat, trying to ignore the arousal that comes on from your suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“No?” The sheets rustle as you reposition yourself, and then, when your fingers delicately wrap around his cock, he inhales sharply and bites the inside of his cheek. “Then why are you so hard?”  
And he is, too. He’s already fully erect and ready for another round, and he knows that there’s no way to lie his way out of it anymore. As you start to work your hand over him in slow, sensual strokes, up and down, coaxing the answer out of him, his head drops back. “Because,” he rasps.  
The sheets shift again, and then you crawl into his lap. He welcomes you gladly, splaying his hand over your lower back to steady you, though he still can’t meet your gaze. He’s too embarrassed. 
“Because why?” you hum. Kakashi lets out a pleasured sigh as you kiss and suck your way up the side of his neck, stroking him steadily, before you purr into his ear, “Because you want to give me a baby?” 
A soft sound of approval rips out of his throat, and his cock twitches into your palm. “Don’t—Don’t say that,” he pleads. 
“Hm? Why not?” 
To hell with it. No sense in hiding it anymore. “Because I might actually do it.” 
“Yeah?” Your teeth tug playfully at his earlobe before you pull back to look at him, and Kakashi finally wills himself to meet your sultry gaze, humiliated though he is. “You know,” you muse, “I don’t like condoms for a reason. I wonder why?” 
The breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh.
Oh, he should have known. You’re just as filthy as he is. Of course you’d have a breeding kink, too, though he’s exceedingly grateful that you’d kept it to yourself until now. You’ve never been shy about sharing the things you enjoy, which means you probably figured out how he’d react. That’s the only explanation. 
He likes that you understand him as well as you do. 
He likes you.
“I think I might be able to guess,” Kakashi says knowingly, a smile playing at his lips. When he leans in to kiss you again, all he can think is: maybe it’s not a bad thing to be too attached. 
-
Snippet #1:
“You said it was overdue,” Kakashi tells you pointedly.
“No, I said I needed to make an appointment,” you correct, and he can see that you’re struggling not to laugh. “I still have, like, a week left on it. Ish. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.” 
While you cook breakfast for the two of you, Kakashi wraps his arms around your waist from behind and traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.  “What if I don’t want to be careful?”  
He feels the shiver wrack your body, but then you do laugh at him. “Down, boy. Three rounds wasn’t enough for you?” 
“Oh, I don’t know...” Kakashi pulls you back against him, allowing you to feel the answer for yourself, hard and insistent against your ass. “You tell me.” 
-
Snippet #2:
Kakashi hides his face in your pillow, feeling distinctly vulnerable without his mask. “Don’t tease me,” he groans, muffled. “I have a delicate constitution.” 
You cackle at his discomfort, like the cruel woman you are. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m really, really curious.” Then you hum thoughtfully. “Do you want to know one of mine?” 
He lifts his head just enough to reveal one curious eye. 
You squirm a little, then, like you’re finally starting to realise exactly how embarrassing it is to talk about. “I, um...” A pause. “So, you know how...” Another pause, and you take a deep breath. “Okay. I like to imagine that I'm being used to—to repopulate a clan, I guess. Just, over and over. Lots of kids. But not for real.” 
He feels another jolt of arousal at your admission. 
Looks like you’re on the same page, then. 
Then Kakashi leans up onto his elbow to regard you properly, and then he lifts an eyebrow, as if to point out how closely that particular fantasy hits to home. 
That’s when you seem to realise who you’re talking to – the sole remaining member of a clan that could probably stand to be repopulated – and your eyes go wide, before you nearly trip over yourself to add, “It—It has nothing to do with your clan, specifically, Kakashi, it’s just—” 
“A fantasy,” he finishes for you, amused. 
 You worry your lip between your teeth and nod. 
“Well,” Kakashi says, considering his answer for a moment, “I might have imagined that, too. Specifically.” Then he gives you a roguish grin, intending to pay you back in kind for your teasing. “How many children do you think would be enough for my clan to be sufficiently repopulated, hm? I’m thinking eight.” 
Mortified, you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god! Eight?” 
Payback’s a bitch. “Well, I was originally going to say ten, but—” 
When you squeal in embarrassment and yank the blankets over your head, Kakashi barely manages to stifle a laugh.  
A/N: This is the first thing I've posted in a hot minute, so your feedback would mean a lot - please let me know what you think :)
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adrienneleclerc · 3 months ago
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Bitch, Whats For Dinner?
Pairing: Lando Norris x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Lando sees an old TikTok resurfacing and decides to prank his girlfriend for a quadrant video.
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: this was originally going to be a Logan Sargeant fic but then I thought “what does he have to gain from this?” So I switched to Lando.
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Since it was summer break, Lando decided it was time to film a video for Quadrant. He went to his gaming room to film the beginning.
“Since I am not racing for another few weeks, I thought what better time to prank my lovely girlfriend than today. There’s this TikTok posted by Dusten Conti where he says to his girlfriend ‘bitch, what’s for dinner?’ And his girlfriend actually answers him so sweetly. Knowing my girlfriend, she will not act so sweetly to me calling her a bitch, but I want to know how she reacts.” Lando said.
Y/N was out grocery shopping for dinner so Lando hid a video camera on a shelf, pointing the camera to the kitchen. She came home 10 minutes later and Lando decided to wait until he heard music playing because that means Y/N is on the preparation stage of cooking (chopping ingredients). Lando got out of his gaming room, observing Y/N chopping onions and tomatoes on the cutting board, singing along to whatever song she was playing. Lando made eye contact with the camera before saying the words..
“Bitch, what’s for dinner.” Lando said. Y/N put the knife down and looked around the apartment. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to see if there’s another person I don’t know about because I KNOW you did NOT just call me a bitch.” Y/N responded and picked up the knife. “So leave, come back, and try that again.” Y/N said, moving the knife as she talked. Lando did just that.
“What’s for dinner, baby girl?” Lando asked and Y/N smiled.
“That’s much better, fresita. I’m making bistec encebollado, It’s steak sautéed in onions and tomatoes with white rice. We can add a fried egg to it and make it ‘a lo pobre’ if you want, that’s how I’m eating it.” Y/N said. Lando hugged her from behind.
“I love you, baby girl.” Lando said.
“I love you too, mi vida, now why the fuck did you call me a bitch?” Y/N asked. Lando unwrapped his arms from her.
“I wanted to prank you for a quadrant video. Honestly, I expected you to react so much worse.” Lando said and Y/N turned to look at him.
“What do you take me for? I’m not a violent person, love.” Y/N said.
“Uh huh, I’ll believe you when you stop taking notes while watching true crime documentaries.” Lando said. Y/N hit him with a dish towel, causing Lando to laugh. “In all seriousness, if I ever end up calling you a bitch and it’s not a prank, I’ll give you full permission to kill me.”
“There are research chemicals that don’t show up in a toxicology screen. They’re the chemical cousins of drugs and since the molecules are modified, they don’t show up on tox screens unless you know what you’re looking for.” Y/N said with an innocent smile while Lando looks slightly terrified.
“You scare me.” Lando admitted.
“As I should. But I hate needles so I wouldn’t kill you like that.” Y/N said, turning back to resume chopping the vegetables.
“How would you kill me then?!?” Lando asked.
“Let it go, baby.” Y/N said. Lando went to the shelf and stopped the video from recording, placing it in his gaming room to charge,
After dinner, Lando and Y/N went to the gaming room to film the end.
“Thanks for watching, I just found out I am dating a psychopath.” Lando said and Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Please, anyone who has seen Criminal Minds would know about research chemicals and you literally gave me permission to kill you.” Y/N said.
“I didn’t know you actually thought about ways to kill someone!” Lando exclaimed.
“But now you know to never call me a bitch so, lesson learned.” Y/N said. Both said “bye” and waved to the camera. After transferring the video clips to his computer, editing the clips and posted it on the quadrant channel.
The End
Hope y’all liked it!
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cloudybarnes · 1 year ago
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new beginnings
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.
Word Count: 2.2k+
Masterlist
part two :)
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✰  ✰  ✰
“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest. 
“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”
Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been. 
“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked. 
A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”
Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.” 
You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”
Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”
You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”
Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”
You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.” 
Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”
Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”
You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”
She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.” 
You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo. 
But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again. 
“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”
“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.” 
You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.” 
You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed. 
She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”
You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped. 
✰  ✰  ✰
“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug. 
Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you. 
Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”
Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny. 
“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”
“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”
You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”
They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food. 
“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you. 
Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly. 
“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).” 
“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.
Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend. 
“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.” 
You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued. 
“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”
Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door. 
Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you. 
“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”
Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him. 
You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship. 
“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”
Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”
Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”
You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”
Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”
You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person. 
Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you. 
“Oi!”
Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo. 
“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo. 
“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face.  “Theo, what are you doing?”
He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”
“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”
You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps. 
“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?” 
You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly. 
“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”
You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.” 
“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.” 
He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?” 
Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall. 
You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo. 
He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained. 
“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant. 
Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”
Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup. 
You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”
He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”
“Why? You broke up with me.”
Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”
You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”
“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”
Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”
He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”
“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested. 
“You wanna be my friend?”
“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.” 
Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. 
“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.” 
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cyxnidx · 8 months ago
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LANGUAGE BARRIER !
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characters: choso, gojo, nanami
summary: them with a bilingual-partner & their kids
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ー# CHOSO didn't know just how big of a mistake he made letting his little girl learn an extra language. at first, he didn't think it'd be a big deal. his two year old learning your native language? that was an amazing idea - he loved it. the importance of maintaining your culture's language and spreading it through family made him think he was completing an aspiration he never knew he wanted. that was, until his you and his little angel decided to take things to the next level - insults. you taught her insults. and he didn't know it until he ended up upsetting her at the dinner table, and she blurted something incredibly disrespectful in your native language.
your jaw was on the floor. and choso was, rightfully so, incredibly confused. "what'd she just say?" he asks, genuinely confused about what she just told him. you begin laughing, scolding your little girl. "honey, you can't say that to daddy! that's bad." choso looks at her concerned. "what'd you say?" she crosses her arms, sticking her tongue out at him. he sighs, looking at you. "what'd she say?" collecting yourself, you sigh and whisper it to him, watching as his face contorts to complete shock. "that is so rude!"
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ー# GOJO loved the idea. i mean, think about it? his little girl, stomping around, arguing with you in your language, and lowkey winning? he thought it was hilarious! of course, until she gets old enough to truly say something hurtful, but that'll be a while. or, at least, that's what he thought.
your daughter pouts, sitting in the middle of the living room floor, back facing you. she's six now, and far sassier than anything on plant earth. meanwhile, gojo is simply getting a snack bar from the kitchen. though, when you least expect it, she yells at you to shut up in your native language. your eyes go wide as you begin to slip off your sandal, walking toward her in spite of her screams. gojo wraps his arms around your torso, yelling 'calm down' and 'it's okay', having to catch your sandal when you attempt to throw it at her. your daughter approaches, just far back enough to not get caught by you, and apologizes formally before leaving to hide in her room. and now, gojo has to deal with you cursing at him. which is all fine, of course, except.. its somehow worse than you cursing at him in English?
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ー# NANAMI thought it to be an interesting experience. he was the one to convince you that, no, it wasn't going to confuse him, and no, he wouldn't be upset if his daughter spoke to him in the language. because, unbeknownst to you, he's learning the language. ever since you were maybe six months pregnant? he wanted it to be a surprise for the little ones birthday. and that, it was.
you smiled, answering one of your daughters many questions for the day while nanami sat at the picnic table outside. today marks her fourth birthday, and she was ecstatic. she never really understood the significance of birthdays until recently, when nanami's been explaining to her how exciting they tend to be. "daddy! daddy! today's my birthday!" she exclaims, grinning ear to ear. "and ー and mommy made me my cake! and i helped!" she says, happily pointing to the cake, basically jumping off the ground and to the moon. nanami smiled at his daughter's excitement. "i see, darling. did you put the candles on it, too?" he asks, stifling a laugh at the slightly messy placement of the candles on top. she nods and grins. "you did a great job, darling." he praises, kissing her cheek. she asks you a question in your language, asking if it was time to cut the cake yet. before you could respond, nanami shakes his head, telling her she has to wait to light the candles first. your eyes go wide, while your daughter simply nods with acceptance. "since when did you-?" you ask, generally confused. nanami smiles. "i've been learning for some years now."
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togrowoldinv · 13 days ago
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The Retreat
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
When you go on a church retreat, you have a very interesting conversation with Wanda
Note: I have missed writing for this Wanda! Can’t get her out of my head lately. Y’all enjoy this one!
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, sad Wanda, oral and fingering (W receiving), age gap
Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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When you were asked to go on a women’s retreat, you immediately wanted to say no. The only reason you even go to church is to appease your parents. But it’s the final retreat of the year and you are expected to attend at least one.  
So, you find yourself now waiting by the church bus to load up. You watch as mothers say goodbye to their children and wives kiss their husbands. One family in particular catches your eye.  
The Maximoffs. Wanda, the matriarch, is a good friend of your mothers. They just moved to town a few years ago, but have made quite an impression in the town. Her husband travels for work, so Wanda is often found alone at the church service while her twin boys are in class for the children.  
You wonder how a man could ever leave a woman like that alone. She is definitely the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Some part of you has been attracted to her since you first laid eyes on her.  
Wanda gets on the bus and sits a few seats from you. She gives you a small wave. You put in your headphones to try and drown out the world. The drive only lasts a few hours and soon you’re at the retreat.  
You check in and get your room key. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you will have a roommate when you open the door and see there are two beds. You're praying it’s not one of the older ladies or someone in your peer group who you can’t stand.  
The prayer is answered when the door latch opens and none other than the one and only Wanda Maximoff walks in.  
“Well, hi y/n!” She says. “I didn’t know we were roommates.”  
“Hey Mrs. Maximoff. I didn’t either.”  
“Oh please call me Wanda. This weekend we are peers, sweetheart,” she says.  
She puts her bags on the bed next to the window. Sitting on the bed, she looks around the room. Wanda spots an itinerary on the bedside table.  
“Looks like a busy weekend,” she analyzes. “We should get going to the first session.”  
“Oh, I was thinking I would just rest tonight,” you reply.  
“Nonsense, y/n,” Wanda says. “You came all this way. You might as well try and enjoy it. I know you aren’t feeling the spirit these days, but let me try and do something about that, okay?”  
Your pulse quickens. How can she see right through you? Maybe she’s just being nice. Or maybe it’s worse and your mother asked her to look out for you this weekend.  
She stands and waits for you to join her. You sigh and follow Wanda out the door.  
The first session goes better than you thought it would. At least the food was good and the middling company was made a little better by Wanda’s presence.  
When you get back to the room, it is freezing cold in there. You notice Wanda shivering even in her sweatshirt and sweatpants she has on for bed. Still, you both try to go to sleep for the night.  
At some point though, you get a feeling someone is watching you while you sleep. Or more accurately, as you try to sleep in the arctic environment. Your eyes flutter open to see Wanda sitting up in her bed.  
“What time is it?” You ask her.  
“Early,” Wanda replies. Her voice is gravely, and if you think about it too much you might even be turned on by it.  
“Are you cold?”  
She nods. “The heat isn’t working. I tried, but can’t fix it.”  
You roll out of bed and walk to the thermostat on the wall. Wanda follows you and stands close behind you. You can hear her breathing as you investigate the issue.  
“Can you fix it?” She asks.  
“Unfortunately, I cannot,” you reply. Wanda sighs.  
You turn around and Wanda is still very close to you.  
“We have one option here,” she begins. “To sleep together.”  
“Oh,” you mumble. “We- um-”  
“We could snuggle and then our body heat will keep us warmer,” Wanda further explains. “What do you say?”  
“Okay.”  
“Okay,” Wanda says.  
She leads the way to your bed hoping since it’s the one away from the window it’ll be a little bit warmer. Wanda crawls into the bed and pulls the covers down. She waits for you to join her. You get into the bed cautiously, keeping a little distance between you two.  
“Come on closer, baby. I don’t bite,” Wanda says. She grins at herself.  
You get closer to her and she wraps an arm around your waist. You drape one of your arms across the pillow and she positions herself with her head between your neck and shoulder. Admittedly, it is warmer with the two of you snuggling together.  
Eventually, you both fall into a deep sleep and the snuggling becomes more relaxed. It feels natural when the two of you wake up in the morning still intertwined.  
“Good morning,” you say softly, trying not to get lost in her green eyes.  
“Good morning,” Wanda says. Her face is close to yours. You can practically see every detail of her perfect face. “We should get ready for the day.”  
“Right,” you say, breaking out of your trance. “Of course.”  
You two break apart and you miss her warmth already. When you two show up at breakfast, several people are already in the room.  
“Wanda! Y/n! Join our table!” The leader of the women’s group calls you both over. “How did you two sleep?”  
“Quite well,” Wanda replies. “It was cold, but we made do.”  
“Oh, we can have someone look at your heat,” the leader replies.  
“Thanks that would be-” you start, but are interrupted.  
“That’s alright,” Wanda says, placing a hand on your forearm. “We are okay.”  
It's a strange response, but you try not to read into it. She probably just doesn’t want to cause any trouble. The breakfast lecturer starts soon and your attention shifts.  
At the end of the day, you and Wanda find yourselves sitting in your room once again. Dinner isn’t for another hour, so you are just waiting around.  
“Should we work on our exercises?” Wanda asks, breaking the silence.  
“What?”  
“The vulnerability exercises we talked about today in the final session,” Wanda explains.  
“Oh, sure.”  
Wanda smiles. She sits on the edge of her bed and pats the spot next to her.  
“I’ll go first,” she says. 
“Remind me of the rules,” you ask.  
“We reveal something to each other that no one else knows. So that we can release it and let the weight go.”  
You nod. You have no idea what Wanda might say. Her life seems perfect.  
“Vision left me,” Wanda blurts out quickly.  
“What?” You ask in shock. “Wanda, I- what happened?”  
You hadn’t seen them interact much, but you never assumed that he wasn’t still in the picture. Just that he had been traveling.  
Wanda looks down, playing with the ring on her finger. You can tell she’s holding back tears.  
“Wanda, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I'm really sorry.”  
“No, it might help if I do,” Wanda says. “Things just got bad. They went from okay, to maybe not so good, to fuck we’re over.”  
Your eyes go wide. Never have you ever heard Wanda curse like that.  
“How long ago was it over?”  
“A few months,” Wanda says.  
“And you haven’t told anyone?”  
She shakes her head. “I just keep saying he’s away on business. The truth is he hasn’t touched me in almost a year.”  
“So, that snuggling we did last night was?” 
“The first time I’ve remotely been that close to someone in a year.”  
“Jesus,” you mumble. She doesn’t even scold you for using the Lord’s name in vain. “Can I hug you?”  
You figure she needs human connection now more than ever. She nods and you take Wanda in your arms. She melts against you. Tears fall down her face and soak into your shirt.  
“It’s okay,” you whisper softly to her. “You’re okay, Wanda.”  
“I’m not,” she says through sobs.  
“You will be,” you reply. “I’m here for you. My parents are here for you. All of these stupid, annoying women here are on your side too, okay? We won’t let you fall.”  
Wanda pulls away some and looks at you. You run your hand through her hair and brush your thumb against her cheek gently. She leans in just enough for you to know what’s about to happen.  
“Wanda,” you say. She keeps moving forward. “Mrs. Maximoff.”  
That makes her stop. She looks at you with confusion in her eyes.  
“I just want you. Do you not want me, baby?” Wanda asks.  
“Oh, of course I want you. I just haven’t done the exercise yet.”  
“Oh?”  
You take your other hand and pull her closer by her hip. Your lips are almost touching.  
“My secret is that I really, really want to kiss you right now and fuck you until you forget about your loser ex-husband who never deserved you in the first place,” you say.  
Wanda closes the gap between the two of you. Her lips move fervently against yours. You can tell she’s desperate.  
“When’s the last time he kissed you like this?” You ask between kisses.  
“Never,” she replies.  
You smile into her mouth and move to push her back onto the bed. Her legs wrap around your waist as you pin her arms above her head.  
“Fuck, Wanda, you are the most beautiful woman alive,” you tell her.  
“We shouldn’t do this,” she says. It's her final effort at not letting herself feel as good as he deserves to feel. You move your hands off of her just briefly.  
“We should do this, but I'll stop if you really don’t want this,” you tell her.  
“No, I- we just can’t tell anyone, okay?”  
“Yes ma’am.”  
You put your hands back on her. This time, you go straight for the buttons of her jeans. You kiss down her chest and around her belly. Deftly, you pull down her pants and panties in one fell swoop.  
Wanda shivers beneath the feeling of your wet lips against her hips and as you brush your nose lightly against her core.  
“Oh, god, y/n,” she whimpers.  
“So wet for me, Wanda,” you say. You dive into her core with your tongue. Her folds are intoxicating as you bring her more pleasure than she’s ever felt in her life.  
“I need you,” Wanda says. “Please, baby. Please!”  
You take Wanda’s clit in your mouth and move your fingers into her in tandem. She is writhing beneath your touch.  
“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say as you feel her reaching her climax.  
“Fuck!” Wanda comes hard against you.  
You lick her as she comes down and move up her body slowly. You lie next to her and kiss her cheek softly. The juxtaposition of that soft kiss and what you were just doing between her legs makes her heart flutter.  
“Are you okay?” You ask her. She is staring at the ceiling.  
“Yes,” she replies. “Thank you for everything.”  
“Anytime Wanda,” you say. You ignore the ache between your legs, knowing Wanda needs time to process this. “Should we go to dinner?”  
“Oh, I guess so,” she says.  
You sit up, but Wanda grabs your arm before you can stand.  
“I want to fuck you later, okay?” Wanda says. “I just-”  
“Need a minute,” you finish for her.  
“Yeah. Thanks for understanding, sweetheart. It’ll be worth the wait I promise.”  
Wanda kisses you deeply before she gets off the bed to get cleaned up. You watch as she walks with a new bounce in her step that she didn’t have before.  
Maybe this retreat will be interesting after all.  
766 notes · View notes
ortegahaze · 26 days ago
Text
anyone but you
[part one] | part two | part three | part four |
Tumblr media
pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!reader
synopsis: Tara and you, despite having mutual friends, have never met—until a Blackmore University fraternity party brings your paths together. The night is amazing, but the next morning is a disaster, and both of you hope never to see each other again. What you didn’t anticipate is that your best friends are getting married, and now you'll be forced to spend time together at their destination wedding.
warnings: no ghostface au, mentions of alcohol, fluff in the beginning, angst, bad writing, language, slight change in characters' age, mentions of a dead parent, “enemies” to lovers!
a/n: yes yes, totally inspired by the movie anyone but you, if you haven’t watched it, there will be spoilers. not sure if i liked this first chapter that much, next ones will be better, i promise🤞🏼
word count: 5,8k
Tara Carpenter loved to party, but mostly because she would always attend the fraternity houses’ parties with her friends who also attended Blackmore University. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that all her usual companions decided to skip the party tonight without bothering to tell her until the last minute.
There she was, dressed up as a pirate, frowning at her phone where her friends’ messages popped up, saying they wouldn’t be going. That was it—the start of a terrible Friday night. She considered going back home, feeling like a sad loser. But she knew exactly what awaited her there: Sam and Danny probably making out on the couch—or worse. Huffing, she shoved her phone into her back pocket, mustering the courage to enter the Omega Kappa Beta party by herself.
The music was loud, but good. Everyone was enjoying it with red cups held high. She made her way to the trashed kitchen, searching for something strong to help her loosen up and forget that her best friends had abandoned her for the night.
After three cups, she was already stumbling. The loud bass thumped through her chest, her head spinning just enough to make her a bit queasy. Needing a break, she headed for the pool area, which seemed quieter and less chaotic.
She slumped down onto one of the chairs, letting the cool night air hit her face. Maybe this night wasn’t a total disaster, but it sure wasn’t the wild, fun night she had imagined. She closed her eyes, the alcohol swirling in her system, trying to relax.
“Tara?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.
Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw a guy standing beside her. He had a kind of frat-boy look—probably one of the OKB members. Despite being a sophomore law student, Tara had never bothered to learn the names of these guys.
“Yeah?” she mumbled, squinting against the pool lights.
“You good?” the guy asked, concern creasing his forehead.
“Yeah, just… letting the alcohol wear off.” She slurred slightly, trying to sound more sober than she felt. The guy didn’t seem convinced but smiled anyway, offering his hand.
“I’m Frankie,” he said.
She hesitated before shaking his hand, her mind sluggish but wary. “Tara,” she replied.
He motioned toward the house. “You want some water? I can grab some for you in the kitchen.”
She nodded, standing up to follow him. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” she mumbled. Something felt off, but she pushed the thought away, blaming the alcohol for making her overly cautious.
As they walked back toward the house, she noticed fewer people by the pool. It was quieter, the conversations distant. That’s when Frankie spoke up again. “You know what? I have a minibar in my room. We can grab water there, and you can use the bathroom too if you need it.”
Tara’s stomach dropped. The convenient offer set off alarm bells in her head, her instincts kicking in despite the fog of alcohol. Why was he suddenly suggesting his room?
Before she could respond, someone stepped up next to Frankie, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, babe. I was looking for you! I finished my set for the night. We can go home now,” the stranger said smoothly.
She blinked, processing the situation. What?
Frankie glanced at the newcomer’s hand, visibly confused. “Uh…”
“I can see you’ve already met my girlfriend, Frankie,” the stranger continued with a casual smile. “That’s great, but we’ve gotta go now. She’s been having trouble sleeping lately, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for taking care of her while I was working tonight.”
Tara felt the stranger’s arm slip around her shoulder. The warmth and casualness of the embrace was oddly comforting, even though she had no idea who this person was. Still, she went along with the act, instincts telling her to trust this stranger over Frankie.
“Yeah, thanks, Frankie,” Tara echoed awkwardly. “We… uh… have to get going.”
Intertwining her fingers with the stranger’s, Tara took the first step, guiding them away from Frankie. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from the strangeness of the whole situation. She wasn’t used to needing to be rescued, especially not by someone who appeared out of nowhere.
When they were far enough from Frankie and back in the kitchen, Tara dropped the stranger’s hand. “Thank you… That was really nice of you.”
“Happy to help,” you replied, rummaging through the fridge. “Frankie’s not the type to handle rejection well, if you know what I mean… and by the look on your face, you were about to reject him.”
Tara flushed, embarrassment creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being seen as vulnerable. She hated feeling like she couldn’t handle herself. “Yeah, I was,” she admitted, brushing off her embarrassment with a small smile. “Thanks again.”
The stranger turned around, holding a bottle of water. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You extended a hand.
She shook it, noticing how your grip was firm yet gentle. “I’m Tara,” she replied, her voice a little quieter this time. She found herself holding onto your hand for a bit too long before quickly letting go, feeling the touch linger longer than it should have. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Uh, is there a bathroom around here?”
You pointed down the hallway. “Yeah, just down there.”
“Thanks,” Tara muttered, handing over the water and heading to the bathroom. Leaving you confused as you stand there with her water. Waiting.
She shut the door behind her and sat on the toilet seat, immediately pulling out her phone while peeing. Her fingers trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the night still buzzing through her as she quickly dialed Mindy. When Mindy picked up, Tara didn’t even wait for a greeting.
“Mindy, I just met this person, and I don’t know… It was something. They saved me from what could’ve been a really messy situation. But like… now what? I don’t even know them, but there was this… connection? Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.” Tara paused, shaking her head at her own words. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”
Tara finished washing her hands and looked at herself in the mirror, her brown eyes staring back. She took a deep breath, brushing her fingers lightly over her fringe, as if steadying herself. "Okay," she whispered, gathering her resolve.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she navigated back toward the kitchen, dodging a couple passionately making out near the door, grimacing slightly as she passed them. Her eyes scanned the room until they locked onto yours, and she couldn’t help but smile awkwardly when you handed her the bottle of water.
“Your water,” you said, grinning.
“Thanks.” She took it, and for a moment, the two of you held each other’s gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. You started to say something, but she beat you to it, breaking the silence with a small, resigned smile.
“Well, I think I should call it a night,” she said with a soft sigh. “I’ve had my share of excitement.”
Your smile faltered just a bit, but you quickly recovered, masking any disappointment. As she moved to leave, you hesitated, your mind racing. You turned, watching her head toward the entrance, and something compelled you to act.
“Hey…” you called, stepping quickly after her. She paused, turning with a curious look.
“So, are you gonna ask me out now?” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she interrupted whatever you’d been about to say. Her comment took you by surprise, but you broke into a smile, catching onto the playful challenge in her tone.
“Yeah,” you replied, mirroring her smile. “Yeah, I am.” You both shared a quick laugh, then walked toward the door together, side by side.
As you walked out into the night, Tara looked up at you, her curiosity piqued. “You know… I go to a lot of these parties. How come I’ve never seen you around?”
Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you chuckled. “I’m not a student anymore. Graduated last year, but a friend of mine who still goes here got me to DJ tonight.” You let out a wry laugh. “Of course, he didn’t even bother showing up.”
She smirked. “Oh, sounds familiar. My friends did the same to me tonight.”
The streets were mostly empty, with the city’s usual hum softened at this late hour. Streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked, and a few blocks away from the chaos of the party, Tara seemed more grounded, though her steps were still a bit unsteady from the alcohol.
“So,” you said, breaking the silence as you walked alongside her. “What about you? What do you study?”
Tara hugged herself, more from a sense of vulnerability than the chill in the air. She glanced over at you, her expression guarded but curious. “I study law.” she replied, then added reluctantly. Her voice had an almost clipped quality, and you noticed the way she quickly redirected the conversation. “And you? What’s your story?”
Noticing her attempt to shift the topic, you chuckled. “I started out in computer science. That’s what my parents wanted, and it sounded like a solid career, so I went with it for a while. Did a couple of semesters.”
“Computer science?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Didn’t peg you for the type to spend your days coding.”
“Neither did I,” you admitted, giving her a wry smile. “Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I switched over to music production—that’s what I’d always wanted to do anyway.”
She nodded, seemingly intrigued despite herself. “I bet your parents weren’t thrilled with the change, huh?”
You shrugged, eyes on the sidewalk ahead. “Not at first. But eventually, they came around. And if worse comes to worst, I can always fall back on tech if I need to.”
Tara’s interest was clearly piqued as she glanced at you thoughtfully. “So, you just sit in a studio with those fancy soundboards?”
You laughed. “Something like that. Mostly, though, it’s me with my laptop, some recording equipment, and way too much caffeine. But I love it—taking random sounds and turning them into something people can connect to.”
She seemed to admire your passion, though she tried to keep her expression casual. “Sounds like you actually went after what you wanted,” she mused, almost to herself.
You smiled at her comment, feeling the quiet camaraderie that had formed between you. “So… you want to keep hanging out for a bit? My place isn’t far from here. I’d offer coffee, but it’s a bit late for that. I make a killer grilled cheese, though.”
Tara raised an eyebrow, both surprised and amused. “Inviting a girl you just met over for grilled cheese? That’s bold.”
You rubbed the back of your neck, grinning. “I like to think so. But no pressure. If you’d rather call it a night, I get it.”
She paused, considering the offer. The sincerity in your expression was unmistakable, and after the strange night she’d had, she found herself craving something simple, something real. With a nod, she finally agreed, letting a genuine smile slip through.
“Alright,” she replied, matching your smile with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got any real culinary skills.”
The two of you continued down the quiet streets, the city’s glow casting a soft light as you walked together. The conversation flowed easily, shifting from one topic to the next as you shared bits and pieces of yourselves.
The conversation moved from childhood stories to other random facts—Tara mentioned she used to collect keychains, and you told her about the time you accidentally broke into the wrong apartment while trying to help a neighbor. The night air carried your laughter, mingling with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of traffic.
The two of you stood near the kitchen counter, your movements methodical as you crafted the grilled cheese the way you always did—spreading butter on the bread and layering two slices of cheese. After adding butter to the skillet, you waited for it to melt before placing the sandwich on it, flipping it with the spatula as it browned.
Tara’s eyes wandered around your warehouse-turned-apartment, taking in the cozy but modest space. Music equipment cluttered one corner, while old vinyl records filled the shelves along the walls. She leaned against the counter, her gaze shifting between you and the space, but lingering mostly on you.
“So,” she asked with a playful smirk, “do you invite strangers over for late-night sandwiches often?”
Without looking up from the stove, you chuckled. “Only the ones who look like they’d appreciate my culinary skills. You seemed like the type.”
She rolled her eyes, but a cute smile played on her lips, you could even see her dimples clearly.
As you flipped the sandwich again, the smell filled the small kitchen, and Tara found herself relaxing, slowly letting her guard down in this oddly comforting moment. It had been a long time since she’d experienced a night that felt spontaneous, even a little reckless.
When the sandwich was done, you cut it in half and handed it to her on a plate. “Wait to cool down—” Almost immediately, she bit into it, only to wince and fan her mouth.
“Oh, fuck, that’s hot!” she exclaimed, laughing through the pain between painful chews.
You stifled a laugh. “I literally just took it off the stove. What did you expect?”
“Oh, my God.”
“If you’re gonna be a lawyer, you gotta understand negligence and breach and…” She furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to look up at you. “McDonald’s versus that lady’s…” You locked eyes with her, noticing her judgmental look. “Habeas corpus.”
Tara chuckled, swallowing carefully. “You absolutely just butchered those terms,” she said, narrowing her eyes and shooting you a mock glare. “Maybe I should represent you in a case against yourself.”
You were both facing each other, holding eye contact as you playfully teased her. “How do you know? You’re not a lawyer yet.” She gave you a disbelieving look. “It’s not too late to choose a more noble profession!”
“Oh, like you?” She nodded toward the computer desk you’d left on from working earlier. You took a bite of the sandwich and followed her gaze.
“You know what? You’re right. Stick with it. I’m gonna need a lawyer to read my contracts at some point.” She chuckled softly. Looking back at her, you smiled.
The two of you stood there, the playful banter bringing warmth to the room that neither of you had expected. She chewed more carefully now, and as she finished the bite, her gaze softened.
“I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer,” Tara blurted, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She stared at the half-eaten sandwich in her hands, looking embarrassed. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”
You paused, unsure how to respond, but instead of words, you gently reached out and wiped a bit of cheese from the corner of her mouth with your thumb. The gesture was intimate, more so than you’d intended, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter.
She sighed, her voice dropping. “My mom’s a lawyer. I thought maybe if I followed in her footsteps, things would make sense. But… I feel like it isn’t really me.”
There was a small silence, but instead of pressing, you just gave her a supportive nod. “You don’t have to figure it all out now.”
She smiled gratefully and took another bite, the tension lifting again as you both relaxed into the conversation. The two of you laughed, easing the awkwardness. You took another bite, an unconscious smile lingering on your face. With Tara around, you almost felt like a different person. She brushed the back of her hand where yours had touched, glancing back at you.
“I’m sorry… My life is a disaster right now.”
“Might be turning a corner,” you shrugged, showing compassion for her struggle, making eye contact again. “You just met me!”
Tara grinned. “Yeah, or I could end up in a suitcase.” You chuckled. “I mean… you’ve got some, uh, serial killer vibes going on here. Why do you have a giant wrench?” She pointed to the large wrench sitting on the vinyl rack. You looked at it and smiled.
“Okay, harsh,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It wouldn’t be a suitcase. It would be a carry-on, thank you very much. You’re about zero feet tall,” you teased, referencing her small stature. She shot you a light glare, making you smile. You glanced back at the wrench. “And my mom gave me that.” At this, Tara raised her eyebrows, paying closer attention. “It’s a reminder that no matter how broken something is, there’s always a way to fix it.”
She nodded at your words, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m talking to you about my mom right now.” You squinted and shook your head, letting out a small chuckle.
Vulnerability hit you for a moment. You weren’t one to share much about your late mother with friends, let alone 'strangers' like Tara, but something about her made you feel at ease—like you could talk about the topic that usually tightened your chest.
Tara’s gaze softened. “No worries. That’s actually kind of sweet,” she smiled gently. “Now, tell me about that!” She pointed to an ATM machine in the corner, raising an eyebrow.
You smiled and nodded at the machine, which was in perfect condition, the screen still on. “That�� is a long story!” You put your sandwich back on the plate and noticed her frowning at you. “Everybody survived!”
“Great!” She laughed, and you followed, the sound echoing through the small apartment. As the laughter died down, Tara took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She felt unexpectedly comfortable there—with you, in your quirky apartment, and with the smell of burnt cheese still lingering in the air.
In your mind, maybe that was the moment you started to hear romantic background music. You bickered and laughed together, even sharing a few silly dance moves in the kitchen after getting some water.
Tara eventually curled up on the sofa as you cleaned up the counter, chatting and laughing loudly from across the room. She teased you about your random quirks, and you responded with good-natured jabs, both of you secretly enjoying the strange, comforting ease. It didn’t take long for you to join her on the couch.
Letting the night unfold, an unexpected bond formed over random topics. Tara eventually settled on your lap, your hands resting on the skin of her waist beneath her silky shirt, facing you. The laughter slowly faded into quieter moments, one of you wrapped around the other. Lingering glances and more meaningful conversations pulled you closer until you both drifted off as dawn approached, feeling more at home than you had in a long time.
Soft morning light filtered through the large living room windows, casting a warm glow across the loft. Tara stirred and blinked awake, feeling a warm weight around her shoulders and waist. She found herself nestled against you, your arm draped over her, your breathing steady and calm.
But the quiet, comfortable intimacy triggered a rush of anxiety in her. Nudging her to move before things got too complicated. She knew she should say something, but no words came, and a sense of urgency pushed her to leave before things got more tangled.
Carefully, she slipped out from under your arm, holding her breath to keep from waking you. With deliberate silence, she stood up to put her shoes on, but one slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, betraying her. She winced and glanced back quickly, not seeing you stir from where she stood.
Your eyes blinked open as you took in the empty space beside you. You craned your neck toward the noise that had woken you, and your expression shifted from confusion to quiet disappointment as you watched her getting ready to leave without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. You held back the urge to say something, but the silence in the room felt suddenly heavy, filled with words left unsaid.
She walked down the stairs to the door, and as it clicked shut behind her, Tara hesitated for the briefest second, almost turning back. But then the weight of the moment became too much to bear. Meanwhile, you leaned back on the couch, staring at the empty space for a long moment, letting the silence settle over you like a heavy blanket.
Eventually, you got up, grabbing fresh clothes to wear before heading back to the living room. You tried to shake Tara from your mind, still feeling the ache of her sudden departure. But as you looked at the wrench, you almost stopped in your tracks. You walked over to it, picking it up in your hands and recalling how you had shared a part of your story that only your close friends knew. You thought Tara would stick around, at least for a while.
You didn’t have much more quiet time for introspection before you heard the door open. You turned your head so fast at the sound that you felt a slight disappointment upon realizing it was only your best friend.
His voice echoed up the stairs. “Yo, let's go, Y/N/N! Come on, cupcake! We’re gonna be late!”
“S'up, C?” You sat down in your computer desk chair, still not fully giving him your attention.
Chad stepped inside with his usual boisterous energy, walking around and dropping his bike helmet on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the skillet on the stove, noticing the remnants of last night's grilled cheese.
“Whoa. Did you cook? Wait… did you bring home a girl to stay over?” you didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on the large wrench in your hands, turning it over absentmindedly. Chad moved closer, munching on a leftover piece of grilled cheese as he gave you a puzzled look.
“Dude, what are you doing with that? Why do you have the giant wrench?” He took it from your hands, examining it. After a few seconds, he pieced it together. “Wait—You told her about your mom, bro? You never talk about your mom with anyone.” His tone softened.
You looked toward the door that he left open, a pained smile crossing your face as you didn’t disagree with his assumptions. “Yeah, I did. Not sure what I was thinking.”
Chad let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “Fuck. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re in love!” He put the tool back in its place and turned back to you. “About freaking time, too. You’re totally in love!” He squealed the last part, unable to contain his excitement.
Trying to brush it off, you shook your head, a hint of bitterness coloring your tone. “Fuck that. Not that it matters. I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” You looked at him with a straight face, attempting to mask the sting of your words. “This girl’s a disaster… she’s a nothing.”
Minutes before slipping out of the house, Tara walked along the quiet sidewalk, pulling her phone from her pocket as she dialed Mindy. The line barely rang before Mindy picked up, her voice tinged with early morning sleepiness.
“Tara? What’s going on?”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sorry to wake you. I just… I don’t know. Remember the person I met last night? They’re… so fucking great, Mindy. We kind of walked around the city, talked, and, I don’t know, we spent the night together and fell asleep talking. It felt… different. Like I didn’t have to keep my guard up.”
“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Mindy’s voice perked up, her interest piqued. “So, what happened after all that?”
A silence stretched between them as Tara paused on the sidewalk. She hesitated, her expression clouded with uncertainty. “I… I left before they woke up.”
Mindy groaned on the other end of the line. “What??? You’re kidding. Why would you just bail? If they’re as great as you’re saying…”
“I don’t know why! Why did I?” Tara blurted, stopping mid-step and glancing back in the direction she’d come from. “What the fuck am I doing? Should I go back?”
“Seems like you already know the answer,” Mindy said gently. “Just go! Find out what this is.”
“Okay, I love you. Bye!” Tara managed a small smile. “I'm so sorry I woke you up. This whole thing is so new to me. Bye!” Her footsteps quickened as she retraced her steps to the building.
“I love you, T. You’ve got this.” Mindy smiled before hanging up, hurrying her steps.
As Tara approached the door, she noticed it was open. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Chad’s familiar voice from inside. His back was facing her, so she didn’t know who the guy was. She certainly wasn’t prepared to hear your sharper tone following in disagreement about you being in love.
“I couldn’t get her out of here fast enough.” “This girl’s a disaster… She’s a nothing.”
The words landed with a crushing weight, stealing her breath and pinning her to the spot. She felt her chest tighten, a surge of hurt and anger rising within her as she turned on her heel and walked away, quickening her pace as if the farther she got, the less it would hurt. She’d let herself be vulnerable, just for a moment, and this was what it had gotten her.
She didn’t stop until she rounded the corner, the city coming to life around her—a stark reminder of the distance she intended to keep. She had allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe things could be different. But she wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Six months had passed since that fateful night, and neither you nor Tara had crossed each other’s paths again. The silence between you both was deafening, leaving nothing but the bitter ache of unfinished business. You had carried on, pretending that the encounter hadn’t left a mark, but you couldn’t shake the lingering memory of Tara slipping away without a word. Each time you tried to forget, the night resurfaced—like a song stuck on repeat. Every quiet moment felt like a reminder that you’d let something slip through your fingers, even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.
Tara, on the other hand, had moved on—at least, that’s what she told herself. She had rekindled her relationship with Wes, her first love, and now she was engaged to him once again. There was comfort in the familiar, in the steady future she thought they were meant to have. Yet, sometimes, late at night, when she was alone, Tara’s mind wandered back to that night with you. She hated herself for it. She’d tell herself it had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment, but that didn’t stop the quiet tug in her chest—a reminder of vulnerability, of something she couldn’t fully ignore. And so, she buried it deeper, clinging to Wes and the life they were building.
Still, neither of you had expected to meet again—until tonight.
The bar was alive with energy, the thrum of chatter and laughter filling the space. Mindy and Anika had orchestrated the night, inviting everyone out for a casual reunion. You and Chad arrived a little late, fresh from a lively Korean dinner, your usual laid-back attitude masking the subtle undercurrent of tension that had become all too familiar since that night. As you made your way through the bar, exchanging handshakes and hugs, your attention briefly flitted to the crowd. Anika grinned, subtly pointing out a group of attractive girls seated near the bar.
You raised an eyebrow and nudged Chad. “Looks like there’s potential,” you joked, but the moment was fleeting.
Across the room, Tara had just stepped through the door, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted her best friend waving her over. She smiled, though it faltered when her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. Something about tonight felt off—familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place.
Mindy greeted her enthusiastically. “Tara! Get over here!” she called. Tara made her way over, her steps slowing slightly as her gaze settled on Chad… and then it clicked. You were there. Her pulse quickened.
Chad wrapped her in a hug before Mindy nudged him aside, beaming as she gestured between you and Tara. “Y/N, come say hi!” she called, oblivious to the growing tension. “Tara, meet one of my dearest childhood friends,” Anika added with a smile, making it clear that you and she shared a long history.
The second your eyes met Tara’s, the world seemed to stop. For a fleeting moment, neither of you moved, both taken aback by the unexpected confrontation. Tara’s chest tightened. How had you ended up here? She didn’t need this. Not tonight.
Your face hardened, instinctively putting up a wall. “Hey,” you said, your voice flat.
She crossed her arms, her tone equally sharp. “Yeah.”
Mindy’s brows shot up. “Wait, do you two… know each other?”
You answered too quickly. “We’ve met.”
“Barely.” Tara’s reply came just as fast. Her eyes narrowed, the distance between you two palpable.
Anika blinked in surprise. “That’s so random.”
Tara, visibly uncomfortable, nodded toward the bar. “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, ready to escape.
You couldn’t resist the smirk forming on your lips. “If you’re looking to sneak out, the exit’s that way. I know that’s kinda your thing.”
The law student spun back to face you, her smile cold. “Well, I am a disaster, right?” Her words were laced with venom, a bitter jab that struck deeper than either of you cared to admit.
The group fell into an uneasy silence, but it didn’t last long. Chad, Anika, and Mindy exchanged wary glances before Mindy spoke up, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay! Let’s… let’s move on from this.”
Anika quickly chimed in, “Yeah, let’s head back to the table,” motioning for Chad to follow, though their eyes never left the tension between you and Tara.
You faced each other, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging in the air. The banter between you both was sharp, but beneath it, something more vulnerable flickered. There had once been something here, something deeper than either of you wanted to admit, and even now, in the harshness of your words, that connection lingered—bitter but undeniable.
You leaned in, a smirk tugging at your lips. “So, you a lawyer yet?”
Tara’s arms crossed defensively, her eyes narrowing, trying to shield herself from whatever it was you made her feel. “Why? Do you need a defense attorney?”
“I’m just curious how you passed that class on ethics,” you shot back, your tone cutting but with a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “You know, with all the bailing you do on people.”
Her jaw tightened, but something in her eyes flickered—something that said she understood exactly what you meant. It stung, more than either of you would let on.
Meanwhile, at the table, Chad plopped down, looking confused as ever. Mindy snorted, leaning back in her seat, her eyes darting between you and Tara. “I think that’s the alleged jerk who T got with when she was on her break from Wes.”
Anika’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “No way. So T’s the party girl who ghosted them?”
Chad, still lost in thought, nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar when I saw her that day… but, you know, I don’t really see faces. I just see souls.”
Anika chuckled softly, shaking her head. “At least they made her realize Wes was the one, right?”
Back at the war field where you and Tara stood, the tension reached a boiling point. Tara’s jaw clenched as she held her left hand up, displaying the ring—a symbol of the life she was trying so hard to convince herself she wanted. “I’m engaged now,” she said sharply, the words coming out more like a challenge than a statement.
Your expression barely flickered, but deep down, something twisted inside—a pang of something you refused to name. “Good for you,” you replied, forcing a dry smile. “Where are you registered? I’ll buy you a broomstick.”
She scoffed, but her smile was tight, forced. “I’ll send you an invite. You still live at 28 Fuckboy Lane?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your head. “You do remember. See, it did mean something to you.”
For a moment, something dark and raw flickered in Tara’s eyes, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper filled with venom and regret. “You’ll always be my rock bottom. The night I spent with a bitch.”
Across the bar, Chad squinted, trying to make sense of the distant conversation. “Did she just call Y/N a bitch?”
Anika leaned closer to Mindy, whispering, “Do you think they’re going to physically fight?”
Mindy smirked, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “Or fuck. That’s a fine line.”
Back at the standoff, Tara’s words softened, though the bitterness still lingered. “Let’s just get through tonight for them, okay?”
You gave her a slow nod, your face unreadable but your heart tight. “Fine. I’m getting a drink, and I’ll toast to never seeing you again.” Your words were sharp, but the way you leaned closer, the tension buzzing between you, said otherwise.
Tara met your eyes, her lips curling into a slight, almost playful smile. “Cheers to that, bro.”
You were nearly nose-to-nose, the heat of your proximity almost suffocating when Mindy, Anika, and Chad appeared at your sides, gently pulling you both out of the intensity of the moment.
Mindy spoke first, her voice cutting through the tension with excitement. “Hey, guys, listen up. We actually have some big news.”
Anika’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Mindy’s hand. “Hey, so the reason we brought you all together—we’re getting married. In Australia. And you’re all coming with us!” The couple squealed frantically.
Both you and Tara blinked in shock, the animosity between you momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of weight. Australia. A wedding. A trip where you would all be together—where you would have to see each other, to deal with everything that still lay between you. There was no running from it now. You were bound by your friends, by the promises of a wedding that would force you both to face what had been left unresolved.
The room seemed to close in, and though the words hung unsaid, you both knew that this was only the beginning of a confrontation you couldn’t escape. For better or worse, you were going to have to deal with each other—whether you liked it or not.
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optimist-pine · 9 months ago
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Bodyguard
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive
Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone
Era: Season 1, the Quarry
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Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...
The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.
Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.
He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.
"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.
"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.
You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.
He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.
"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.
He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.
"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.
He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."
"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.
---
Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."
He simply grunts in response.
Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.
When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.
He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.
You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."
"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.
"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."
You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.
"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.
As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.
You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.
"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.
The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.
"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.
He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.
When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.
You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.
You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"
You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.
"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.
Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.
"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.
You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.
You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."
You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.
A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.
You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.
"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."
And you grin.
---
Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago
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Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team
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The thing about cheerleaders and the infamous football team is that they’re quite accurate to their stereotypes
Now not every cheerleader team is run by a head girl who’s a massive bully 
Or that the football team is filled with dumb jocks that are just as violent if not worse
But they’re nothing to scoff at 
They’re beautiful
They’re athletic
And they're disciplined with confidence that comes with successful games and competitions
Such perks might give them quite a bit of power
Power that’s doubled when they’re working together
If you’d like to be happy you’re better off not figuring out just yet 
Since your arrival to the University, you’ve noticed more of your things have gone missing
Maybe this move made you more frazzled than you thought
Because you’ve found that you haven’t been able to keep friends like you used to
At least not without some help
“So you’re the new student, huh? Welcome to Energi University. As cheer captain, I’m really happy to welcome you finally!”
As she drags you along throughout your schedule, you’re waiting for the punch line
The moment she switches to embarrass you or smile coyly as she says something underhanded about your appearance
But she doesn’t 
Only twirling her hair as she asks you where you learned to glow like you do
You find it odd but you’re not complaining
Movies taught you that she and her team were top of the food chain 
so if they liked you enough maybe it’d trickle to some friends eventually
“Looking for a partner? Me too. How about we uh work together, freshie. If we finish before class ends you can have my varsity jacket and I can have yours.”
It seems it works as the beefy but beautiful captain of the football team partners up during chemistry
Between the two captains, you think you’re making progress
Finally beginning to make friends
But you couldn’t be farther from the truth
Already you were skipping right into the pitfall that was their playground—Energi University
It started with the cheerleader’s captain, gorgeous, rich, and with a serious attitude problem
She was making her daily rounds with her two main girls
‘Putting the worms in their place’ as she’d report to her team
Until she found something interesting 
a glasses-wearing nerd had been holding a file, scrolling through someone’s social page with such dedication they didn’t even realize they were being cornered
And its not just someone—you
while her girls were exploring the use of pins on the human body, she was going through this fairly thick file
A file all about you
Filled with hundreds of pictures of you some with consent some not
Extensive organized lists of your likes and dislikes
And a neat report on your current whereabouts and social circle
By the end of it, she was intrigued
She’s never been one for reading but she just can’t put it down
Having to be brought back into the real world when her girls are done playing 
“Already? Ugh, let’s go find the next one this little report of his might be worth selling to those stupid jocks.”
That’s just an excuse 
she’s combing over your photos again as she re-reads about the mundane drama in your life
“Babe, I thought you said you wanted to spend time with me? Not lose braincells studying!” 
Her boyfriend–captain of the football team is trying to draw her attention with kisses and inviting touches
But she’s just too focused
Eventually, he’s going to snatch it all away, taking a look at it
“Who’s this? Your latest victim?”
“Puhlease they don’t even know me…yet.”
The nights they spend together is searching you on socials as they filter through these words about your world
There’s just something about you that has them enraptured
For them it’s like when they first started dating, running off from their teams to gush about their latest finds about you
Texting all through the night about schemes to meet you
Whispering on the bus on their way to seasonal competitions
It isn’t long before the nosey teams start poking around
All it takes is a whispered mention of your name and they’re stalking your socials 
Some hire private investigators to tell all they can get their hands on
It’s like a virus how the whole team is eventually letting your distant lovely little life take up all of theirs 
At some point words and posts just aren’t enough
“Yo Cap, why don’t we just get them to come here?”
“Yeah! I know I can get my dad to extend a scholarship and dormitory if something happens at their old school.”
“Hmm, I do still have those lighter fluid canisters.”
“Oooh and I can get them out of the dorms for awhile!”
“Then  we can swoop in and be the knight’s of shining armor they’ll need!”
“C’mon, captain! Let’s bring them home, aren’t you tired of looking at them through the screen?”
“Don’t you think it’d boost our morale for the championship?”
“Yeah!!” Pleaassee!?”
What terrible captains they’d be if they let their teams down now
So the plan is set, you conveniently are stood up on a date when your dorm and campus is burnt down killing so many friends you made+
The mysterious fire destroying their security footage and all your belongings too 
Its natural you start looking for a new college, a safer option
“Hey (Y/n) why don’t you come to our next game? Forget about that horrible fire and cheer us on!”
“Wait how did you know–”
“Grapevine cutie! Now what do you say to a sleepover!?”
“Not after we do our victory party!”
“Oh, you’ll have to try our captain’s famous jello shot! It’s going to knock your clothes+ socks off.”
Both Captains will watch happily as the group swarms you 
Your questions about the slug you made plans with prior were drowned out in their shouting and giggling
Their goal wasn’t to make you worry 
After all, they had the power to dissolve all of that 
The Captains and their teams
“Now that we have them I don’t see any reason, why our teams won’t be planned for an all-around victory in the nationals.”
“Of course, though we could do it without them. Money and pure talent are a given for people like us.”
“Still there’s nothing wrong with sharing a good luck charm.”
“You are absolutely right..”
“Aren’t I always? That being said we’ll have to talk about the…hoarding issue.”
“Oh yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. The next time one of your cheerleaders interrupts me, they’ll be dealing with more than broken legs.”
“And your players should know the next time they take my time with (Y/n) away they won’t just become paralyzed.”
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sarahisslytherin · 3 months ago
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on the kingsroad.
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cregan stark x reader
summary: you try not to let your feelings for lord stark show as you travel to king's landing together.
contains: forced proximity, fluff.
a/n: there was only one bed!!
word count: 1.2k
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You struggled to keep your heavy eyes open as your mare clopped down the dirt road. You trotted alongside Cregan, whose gaze was now fixed on the inn that grew closer with each passing moment. “Almost there, my Lady.” The young lord of Winterfell addressed you gently. He was as weary as you were, and longed just as much for the warmth of a bed. You tugged feebly on the fur lining your cloak as you neared the inn. It had been a few days on the Kingsroad in the company of Cregan Stark. 
You both had business to attend to down in King’s Landing and the noble lord deemed it necessary that you be accompanied. Though you were merely a lady of his court, you had never been able to deny the part of you that longed for something more than polite manners from Cregan. The look in his icy blue eyes as he strode down the halls of Winterfell had put you in a trance more times than you cared to admit. Equally culpable for this were the stolen glances during feasts, the electricity you felt at his touch when he would help you out of a carriage. These small moments provided you with enough warmth to survive the longest of winters. 
Soon enough, you were at the inn’s doors. Cregan dismounted first before aiding you as you did the same, his strong, leather-covered hands holding your weight as your boots hit the snowy ground. You thanked him for the help as he led the way inside. The innkeeper marveled at the sight of him. Tall, wide, commanding; a young wolf.
“Forgive me, Lord Stark.” the man stuttered. “But there are simply not enough rooms left to accommodate both yourself and the young lady.” At this, Cregan looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Something in your expression must have given away that you didn’t mind sharing chambers for the night, because he swiftly turned to the innkeeper and paid for the remaining room.
You tried to suppress the churning feeling in your stomach at the thought of such proximity to Cregan, thankful you could blame the pink hue of your cheeks on the biting northern cold. You followed Cregan up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking under his steps. The hallway was lit by torches, the warm light leading you to your chambers. “After you.” Cregan bowed his head ever so slightly as you stepped into the room, the stone and wooden walls encapsulating the heat from the fireplace. 
“Gods, how I’ve longed for the comfort of a bed.” you chuckled as you shrugged off your furs, leaving you in your gown. You felt Cregan’s heavy gaze as you undid your simple braid and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. “You must know your company has been a great comfort to me, Lord Stark.” you confessed, offering him a sheepish smile as your eyes met his. He too was in the process of removing his cloak, his thinner garments capturing your attention more than could be deemed fitting of a proper young lady. 
“I am glad to hear it. I must admit that when I heard you would be traveling to the capital on your own, I couldn’t help but worry for your safety. I shall stay close to you at King’s Landing as well. It is truly a viper’s nest, no place for an innocent lady.”
“My Lord, you underestimate me.” you smirked as you stood up from your place by the crackling fire. “Surely the vicious men of King’s Landing cannot be much worse than the brutes back home.”
Cregan laughed at that, a good hearty laugh. “Is your opinion of Northmen truly so low?”
You felt heat begin to creep into your face once again. “I- I meant no offense, my Lord. The men I speak of are nothing like you.” You were too nervous to be sure, but you were quite certain it was a look of amusement now on Cregan’s face.
“Are they not? I am a man of the North, born and raised. What could possibly save me from your damning opinion?” he teased, but you sensed he truly wished to hear the answer.
“Well,” you sighed as you fiddled with tendrils of your hair, “They are not nearly as handsome, and not one of them has ever made me laugh the way your jests have. And they are unkind, inhumane. They regard me as no more than an object, something to be enjoyed as one enjoys a feast. But you-” you cut yourself off, looking up to meet Cregan’s gaze. The look in his eyes was soft, hopeful even. 
“But I?” he insisted.
“But you are kind. Not only to me, but to your people. You are a rare man of honor, true honor. A man I feel safe with.” you finally said. If Cregan was moved by your confession he tried his best not to show it, his gaze fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. You decided to make yourself busy with the fur covers on the bed. Cregan stood up to help. 
“My Lady, please have the bed.” he said, his voice scratchy from the cool winter air. “I will arrange my furs on the floor.” Your eyes widened at that, your hand reaching up to clutch your heart incredulously.
“Nonsense, I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly fine bed large enough for the two of us!” 
Cregan made an effort to suppress his smile, but it was not enough. “Are you absolutely sure? I only wish for you to be comfortable.” he insisted.
“Certainly.” you assured him, allowing your hand to rest gently on his chest. You tried not to focus on the beat of his heart beneath your icy palm. He wasted no time in taking it in his own hands and bringing it to his lips, the gesture awakening butterflies in your stomach. 
You gently stepped away to your side of the bed, slipping in and doing your best to stay on the edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip where Cregan did the same on the other end. You ensured you were both back to back with room to spare between you. You tried to drown out the thoughts you were having about the Lord of Winterfell as you drifted off to sleep.
It wasn’t until the first rays of dawn began to pour into the chambers that your eyes began to flutter. You were so accustomed to sleeping alone, you didn’t know what to make of the presence you sensed so close to you. Only then did the memories of last night come back to you, and you looked down to your abdomen to find Cregan Stark’s large paw of a hand resting there. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of his breath hit the back of your neck. He had pulled you flush against him in his sleep, and it seemed you had done little in protest. The butterflies in your stomach returned as you let your eyes close again and leaned into Lord Stark’s embrace, impatient to continue your journey on the Kingsroad.
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kindgomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever
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moonxknightx · 3 months ago
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MORE THAN WORDS : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff and a bit of angst
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Emotional Angst, Brief Mention of Fear of Abandonment, Discussion of Uncertainty About Parenthood
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You find out you're pregnant with Logan's baby and confide in your sister Jean, unsure how to tell him. With her support, you eventually tell Logan, who’s initially shocked but reassures you he’s not leaving, and the two of you commit to facing the future together.
Based on this request
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THE SKY OUTSIDE WAS SOFT WITH THE EARLY LIGHT OF DAWN, casting a warm glow through the large windows of Xavier's School. You stood in the kitchen, gripping a mug of tea between both hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take a sip. The steam swirled up, almost hypnotic, but your mind was far away from the present moment.
You were pregnant.
Logan’s child was growing inside you, and the weight of that realization felt like an anchor pulling you deeper into your own thoughts. How could you tell him? His life had been filled with so much pain, loss, and isolation. What if this wasn’t something he wanted? Or worse, what if this was something he couldn’t handle? The questions swirled around in your head like a storm.
And then there was Jean—your sister. She would know what to do. She always did.
You needed to talk to her.
~
You found her in the garden, seated on one of the stone benches with a book resting in her lap. Her red hair glistened in the sunlight as the soft breeze carried the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass through the air. You stood there for a moment, watching her, wondering how to even begin.
She glanced up before you could even make a sound, her green eyes immediately softening as she saw the turmoil on your face. “Hey,” she said gently, closing the book and setting it aside. “What’s going on?”
You sat down beside her, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, feeling the weight of the unspoken words pressing against your chest. “Jean, I—I need to tell you something, but I don’t know how to say it.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, concern creeping into her voice. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You let out a shaky breath, your eyes focusing on the ground as if it held the answers you were searching for. “I’m pregnant, Jean.”
There was a pause. Silence hung in the air between you for what felt like an eternity before Jean spoke, her voice soft with surprise. “Pregnant?” She turned to face you, her hand gently resting on your arm. “Oh my god… does Logan know?”
You shook your head quickly, the thought of that conversation sending a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins. “No, he doesn’t. I haven’t told him yet. I don’t know how.”
Jean’s face softened, and she squeezed your arm reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Logan loves you. He’ll understand.”
You scoffed lightly, not because you didn’t believe her, but because you didn’t know if Logan knew *how* to deal with something like this. “Jean… he’s been through so much. I don’t want to bring more chaos into his life. He already has enough of that.”
Jean sighed, her eyes thoughtful as she considered your words. “I get it. Logan’s life has been hard—harder than most. But this isn’t chaos. This is something beautiful, something new. You’re not throwing him into more pain. You’re giving him a future.”
You looked at her, biting your lip. “But what if he doesn’t want it? What if this… if I… if we’re not what he needs?”
Jean paused, letting the question linger in the air. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze filled with understanding. “You won’t know until you tell him. But you can’t carry this alone. You’re not alone in this.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “And Logan isn’t the kind of man who would just walk away from something like this. He’s been fighting for a family for years, whether he knows it or not.”
You nodded slowly, her words sinking in, but your heart was still racing. “How do I even start? How do you tell someone something like this?”
Jean smiled gently, trying to ease your fears. “There’s no perfect way. Just tell him the truth. Be honest with him, and let him process it how he needs to. You’re both in this together, remember?”
The thought gave you some strength. Together. You and Logan had always faced the world together, no matter what. Maybe this would be no different.
“I’m scared, Jean,” you admitted, your voice a whisper.
“I know,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to do this alone.”
You gave her a weak smile, feeling some of the weight lift off your chest. “Thanks. I… I just needed to hear that.”
She leaned in and hugged you tightly. “You’ve got this. And if you need me, I’m here, okay?”
You nodded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Now came the hard part.
~
You found Logan later that day in the garage, working on one of the old motorcycles. The sight of him, rugged and focused, usually made your heart skip in that familiar way, but today it only heightened your nerves. He wiped the grease from his hands with a rag, looking up when he noticed you standing there.
“Hey, darlin’,” Logan said, his voice low and gruff, though his eyes softened when they landed on you. “You okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what had to be said. “Can we talk?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, immediately sensing something was up. “’Course. What’s goin’ on?”
You walked closer, feeling your heart pound in your chest. There was no turning back now. “Logan… I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.”
He set the rag down, giving you his full attention, concern etched in his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper.
The words hung in the air between you, and you watched as Logan’s face went blank for a moment. His hands stilled, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, you feared the worst—that this was too much for him, that he would shut down or push you away.
But then his brow furrowed, his lips parting as he struggled to find the right words. “You… you’re sure?”
You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “I found out a few days ago. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”
Logan stared at you, his intense gaze searching your face for any sign of doubt. Slowly, his hand reached out, resting against your stomach, almost as if he needed to feel it to believe it. His fingers were gentle, the contrast to his usual gruffness catching you off guard.
“You’re havin’ my kid,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he was trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yeah,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his face, watching for any sign of how he was feeling.
There was a long pause before he looked up at you again, his expression unreadable. “How long have you known?”
“A few days. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… I didn’t know how you’d react.”
Logan’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb unconsciously stroking your skin as he took in a deep breath. “I’m not gonna lie… this is a lot. I wasn’t expectin’ it.”
“I know,” you said quickly, feeling your heart race. “I didn’t expect it either. And if you’re not ready for this, I—”
“Stop,” he cut you off gently, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “This is… hell, I don’t know what this is. But I know one thing—I’m not leavin’ you. I’m not walkin’ away from this.”
You blinked, surprise flooding through you. “Logan…”
“I’m not good at this stuff,” he admitted, his voice rough but steady. “I ain’t ever had somethin’ like this. But I want it. I want this with you.” His voice grew softer, more vulnerable. “I don’t know how to be a father… but I’ll try.”
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed with relief. “I don’t know what I’m doing either, but we’ll figure it out.”
Logan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he rested his chin on top of your head. His embrace was solid, unyielding, as if he were silently promising that he would be there, no matter what came next.
“We’ll figure it out together,” he murmured, and for the first time that day, you believed it.
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brokenmenswhore · 4 months ago
Note
Hi hi
Could I request an Aegon fic where after he got burned Aegon thought that you would see him as a monster and would leave him, but he was surprised when you stayed and took care of him.
aweh i fuckin love this request
monster | aegon ii targaryen
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pairing: aegon targaryen x reader
warnings: none, just some fluff :)
────── ☾ ──────
When Aegon regained consciousness, all he wanted was you.
The events that had brought him to his current predicament were blurry; all he knew was that he was painful and terrified for the future. Would he heal? Would he survive? Would he ever speak again? Walk again? Would you even look at him?
Aegon was not someone who maintained stable, healthy relationships with anyone, but despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. When no one cared for him, you were there. When his own family and council disagreed with him, turned on him, or treated him like he was useless, you listened to him. You pushed him to be a better king, a better partner, a better person.
Everyone always leaves. Laying stagnant, leg wrapped and propped up in his bed, his grotesque burns on display, he couldn’t possibly imagine why you would be an exception. He felt, in his heart, that you wouldn’t do that to someone, but, in his head, he believed that he wasn’t worth someone like you sticking around. He could only imagine how he looked, just as he felt he was internally: a monster.
Aegon was stable, and Maester Orwyle was hopeful that the King would make some form of a recovery. Aegon spent most of the day asleep, his body desperate for an infinite amount of rest, but would awaken for just around an hour of every ten.
It took days, if not weeks, for Aegon to be able to speak, and when he could, he could only form small words or groans. He tried to speak your name- to ask for you- but he was unintelligible.
Aegon wasn’t aware that you had spent most of your recent days tending to him as he slept. You cleaned his wounds, rewrapped his leg, and most importantly, sat beside him and spoke to him, hoping the words would stick in his brain when he was conscious enough to remember or understand them. You told him of your days, the happenings around the castle, and laughed to yourself about the stupidity of his brother Aemond’s new policies. You missed him, and you were terrified for his life and his health every single second of every single day.
Weeks after Aegon regained somewhat stability, handmaidens rushed in to begin his morning care, and Aegon fought with everything inside of him to let out a small whine of your name.
One of the handmaidens stopped her actions, her fingers leaving the wrap around Aegon’s head as she looked into his eyes. “Your Grace?”
Aegon repeated your name, the handmaiden leaning in to ensure she heard it correctly. Even if you were going to leave, he had to see you one last time.
The handmaiden stood up straight in understanding, exiting the room as she went to fetch you.
“He is asking for you, My Lady.”
You shot up from your chair. He was asking for you? Meaning he could speak? Meaning he was awake?
A million thoughts rushed through your head, but your feet took charge, rushing toward his chambers to see him.
When you entered the room, the handmaidens all turned in unison to watch you.
“Please leave us for a moment,” you requested, the handmaidens bowing in your direction as they exited the room, leaving you alone with Aegon.
He looked straight at you. You hadn’t seen his eyes open in what felt like ages. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at the sight. You rushed to his side, taking his uninjured hand and holding it in your own.
“Aegon,” you spoke, a smile on your lips as you choked back a sob.
Aegon could not say or move much, this much you knew. You didn’t expect him to, you were simply happy to finally be in his true presence.
Aegon, however, was nervous. He was nervous that you were moments away from breaking his heart, the only feeling worse than that of his current condition.
Aegon was completely in his head. She’s going to leave. Memorize her features, you’ll never see them again. You fucking monster, no one could love you like this.
“I’ve missed you dearly,” you nearly whispered, “you know, I’ve been here each and every day, yet we’ve always seemed to miss one another.”
Involuntarily, a tear fell from one of Aegon’s eyes. You had come to see him every day. You didn’t run at the first sight of him.
You noticed the tear, and you knew Aegon. You know he likely doubted your relationship and himself, and you’re almost certain that he expected this to be a goodbye. He underestimated your love for him constantly, and to no fault of your own, but because he still struggled to believe anyone could actually love him.
You didn’t want to overwhelm his emotions, but just in case, it was important for you to make sure he knew this was true: “I love you, Aegon.”
You leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead, calming Aegon’s crying hiccups and erratic breathing kissing his burns to show you loved him no matter what, but keeping the kiss light so as not to hurt him further.
You stared at one another for a moment, content to be in each other’s presence.
“May I?” you asked, walking the the other side of the bed and patting the sheets next to Aegon.
Aegon groaned in response, and you knew him well enough to know it meant yes. You, slowly so as not to hurt him or shift his body weight, lifted the sheets and layed down beside Aegon, your face turned on the pillow so you could look directly at him.
You brought your hand up to Aegon’s face, stroking the unphased skin as a gesture of love, avoiding the burns in an effort to keep your actions painless. “You could not rid yourself of me if you tried, My King.”
Aegon’s eyes closed again, and yours did the same, your body relaxing as you slept next to him in peace.
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fanaticsnail · 4 months ago
Text
Seat Number Four
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 4,500+
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Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.
Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.
Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?
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Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.
This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.
What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.
However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.
Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.
The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.
Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.
“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.
“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.
“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.
Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.
“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”
Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.
Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.
“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.
“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.
“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.
“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”
“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”
“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.
“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”
“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.
“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”
“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.
As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.
While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.
Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”
Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.
Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.
Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.
Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.
Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.
“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.
Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.
“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.
“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.
“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ‘Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.
Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.
Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.
“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.
Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.
“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.
Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.
“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.
“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.
“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.
He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.
“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.
Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.
“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.
“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.
Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”
Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.
Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.
“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”
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Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.
An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.
Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.
Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.
“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.
Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.
Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.
“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.
Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.
A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.
At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.
“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.
Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.
Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.
“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”
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breadbrobin · 10 months ago
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jealousy, jealousy
luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians
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[established relationship, fem!reader]
summary: you weren’t jealous. not at all.
warnings: jealousy, fluff, kissing.
word count: 670
(this is my shortest one yet, but it’s cute and fun so here you go. (yes the brainrot has gotten worse i know))
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it was happening again.
it was always happening, to be fair, but it had been happening a lot more lately.
every time you went to hang out with luke, your boyfriend, he was being hounded by young girls, all asking him for extra help and extra training and batting their eyelashes like broken dolls.
you rolled your eyes and stood off to the side, waiting for the crowd to disperse.
you weren’t jealous, you swore it. like, sure, maybe they annoyed you a little, but you weren’t jealous of them. luke only had eyes for you… right?
your gaze sharpened on him. he hadn’t noticed you yet. he looked a little overwhelmed. stressed even. was that because he was getting too much attention full stop? or because he didn’t know where to look first?
you clenched your jaw and decided to put him out of his misery. you pushed through the girls, ignoring their mumbled complaints.
“will you help me with my sword fighting, lukey?” you cooed from behind him.
you could see his jaw clench as he turned around.
“i’m not giving out—“ his entire expression softened, flipping from irritated to relieved. “y/n.” his voice was a soft breath, murmuring your name like it was the last thing he ever wanted to say. he smiled. “what are you doing here?”
“came to get you. chiron wants to see you. something about counsellor duties?” you raised your eyebrows at him.
he nodded quickly and stepped closer to you and back from the girls around him, who were tittering disappointedly. “sorry, guys. i gotta go.”
they all called various goodbyes after him as you took his arm and pulled him away.
“thank you,” he muttered. “i didn’t know how to get rid of them and i didn’t want to be too mean.”
“that’s your problem, luke castellan. you’re too nice.” you kept pulling him away. not towards the big house like you’d said you would, but around the side of the arena.
he frowned. “where are we going? i thought i needed to see—“
“i haven’t seen chiron all day. and i haven’t seen you all day either,” you said simply.
“oh.” he frowned for a second, then it clicked. “oh, okay!”
you still hadn’t let go of his arm, and he was beginning to notice it.
you could hear his smirk in his voice as he spoke. “were you… jealous, y/n?”
you dropped his arm like it burned you and stopped, turning to face him. he stopped too, almost hitting you. he was inches away. “what? no.”
a mischievous smirk grew on his face. “oh, really? i don’t know if i believe you. you know that you’re the only girl i want, right?”
you blushed slightly and looked away, staring at at cloud shaped vaguely like a heart behind his head. “yeah, i know.”
“do you?” he stepped into your line of vision again.
you nodded.
“good. because all of those girls? if they were trying to get with me, they’d have to look like you, talk like you, act like you. and even with all that, i’d still chose you, because you’re you. not them.” he ran his hands gently down your arms, holding your hands in his. “cool?”
“cool,” you said. you slipped your hands from his and looped them over his shoulders, messing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “very cool.”
“cool.” he leaned in to kiss you.
as you leaned in too, you saw the hoard of girls come around the corner with accusing looks on their faces. and maybe you pulled luke so you were side-on to them and they could see both of you. and maybe you kissed him a little more passionately than the moment really called for. and maybe you had been jealous. maybe. but maybe they needed to learn that he was yours and you were his, and it was time to give up.
in your mind, at least, that was fair.
jealousy, jealousy, you mused. what a weapon.
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strawbeelemonade · 1 year ago
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ROMANTIC IMAGINE: Miguel O'hara visits you when you call in sick
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i know how to write things other then headcannons i swear. theyre just so EASY. you can request actual fics lmao. promise! This was intended as romantic btw, but you can interperate this however you want!
WARNING: descripion of wounds/blood, description of burns, overprotectiveness,
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Miguel lands on your balcony with a heavy thump, his landing was a little awkward from trying to swing with only one hand, but he managed well enough. The Tupperware in his hand looked a little worse for wear, though.
Almost every fibre of him wanted to turn around and forget about this, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to, he needed to know you were ok.
You had called off sick from work yesterday, and you didn't show up today either. In all the time you were working at Alchemex you’ve never done that before. The secretary had told him you sounded like you were in a lot of pain over the phone, so it was obvious you were unwell in some way or another. He’s been worried ever since.
This felt stupid. Over dramatic, even. But he’d gone to his brother for advice, and this is what he had given him: Their moms classic Pozole recipe, The same recipe him and his brother ate while growing up. Obviously Miguel protested, adamantly. he hadn’t cooked for anyone in a very long time. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to… His brothers response?
“Do you want my help or not?”
So Miguel scrounged around the kitchen for what he needed. He squinted to read his mothers old chicken scratch from all those years ago. He put in the work, as uncomfortable as he felt, And He packaged it and come all the way here.
And now he didn’t know how to go forward.
He had never felt more out of his element in his life. As he Stood outside your window with the soup in his freakish claws he realised he didn’t know where to go from there. He hadn’t thought further than this point. What would he say when he gave it to you? What would he even do after that?
He had to awkwardly shimmy through the window with the Tupperware in one hand, almost stepping on a cable stretching across the floor. “Fuck—“
the hinges creaking offensively as he pushed down your open window and he cursed, shutting it as delicately as possible. When he heard your voice ring out from behind him he tensed.
“Uh, Hey Miguel!” You call from the bathroom. He breathed out the puff of air he was holding in. No turning back now.
“…Hey,” he called, not knowing where to begin. “…I brought you a little something.”
He makes his way to where he heard your voice coming from, and pauses briefly by your kitchen counter. He looks down at the soup in his hands.
…He could just leave it here, that would be less humiliating for everyone, wouldn’t it? He knew you were ok, now. He heard your voice, so you were alive. He did what he came here to do. He could turn around right now and escape while you were still in the bathroom.
But something stops him. A little smell wafted by his nose briefly. It was brief. It was faint. But it was there and it made him pause.
So he sits the soup on the counter quietly, but he doesn’t turn around. He walks further down the hall and takes a deep breathe. The smell is clearer now. Miguel gets a bad feeling.
He picks up the pace and pulls off his mask to get a better whiff, and suddenly he’s hit with the all too familiar stifling stench of blood.
No.
NO!
“Y/n!” He runs up to your bathroom door and starts rattling the handle, but the door is locked. He pauses when he hears your voice on the other side, clearer and more effective at preventing him from tearing the door off its hinges—.
“D-Don’t come in!” You yell. “I’m... ngh- I’m a bit busy in here!”
“Y/n, what do I smell?!” He doesn’t need you to tell him, He already knows the answer. It’s pungency rings clear from his side of the door. The tanginess was so prominent that even someone with normal senses could pick up on it.
“N-nothing!” You stutter. You always stutter when you’re nervous. And when you're lying.
“Are you bleeding? Where’s it coming from? Open up!” He starts banging on the door again, his fist unintentionally rattling the frame.
“You don’t smell anything- stop that!” You snapped, annoyance ringing clear. But there was a certain strain to your voice, a painful whine that made his heart drop. “I-I’m just, uh- changing! will you give me a minute? Please, Miguel.”
“Don’t lie to me! What’s wrong, can you not get to the door?” He starts backing up to gauge the frame of the door and… Yeah, he could kick that in, easily.
sensing what he was getting ready to do, you spring up from your spot hunched over on the side of the bath tub and amble to the bathroom door. “No no no!” You lean against the door, heaving. “Don’t do anything drastic, I’m right here!”
He paused and waited for you to open it, but your hesitation makes him start losing his patience. “Y/n-“
“I’m ok, Miguel. S-seriously. I just took a little tumble on the way home.” You swallow back a painful grunt as you lean on the door frame for more support. “Look…” you started. “Now’s really not a good time—“
“Y/n.”
You shut your mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’
the tone of his voice hid a warning. Miguel knew what you were going to suggest even before you said it, and he refused to let you finish. The fact that you were bleeding as much as you were for him to smell you across the house, And you were trying to hide it from him? It must be bad, there was no doubt about that. His brain began racing for answers, for explanations, for names. He didn’t know where you were hurt, god what if it was somewhere vital? Who did this to you and where? Why were you trying to hide it? Did they threaten you? Something must of happened. there was no way he would leave you here, No. There was no getting rid of him now.
“Open this door.” He says one final time. And you can tell it’s the final time from the tone of his words. His voice quaked with fury at even the mere insinuation that he’d ever leave you when you were wounded. That you were even wounded In the first place.
“Now.”
...
There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything. And for a second he thinks he’s going to have to break the door open inwards just to avoid plowing over you to get it open. But then he hears you apprehensively turn the lock and he almost breaks the handle from how fast he rips it open.
You stumble a bit, reeling at his strength. and then youre taking a tumble from being thrown off balance, but before you can even yelp out a cry he swoops in to catch you in his arms before your body can even comes close to hitting the floor. “Lo si—! Sorry! Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
from being so close he could tell immedietely that you were running warm, did you really have a fever too? He perches you on to the toilet seat and you wince at the ache washing through your body. God, your back was killing you... and Miguel's hands were all over you. you tried pulling your arms out of his grip, but he wasn't budging. he scoured your front for bruises, cuts, anything.
"what happened, where does it hurt, Y/N, please." he lifted your arms, checking your sides. nothing there... You couldn't bring yourself to answer, all the jostling around was making you go really dizzy... so much so that his words seemed to bounce off your ears. you squint at him. were there two of him before?
"Oi, mami/papi. focus for me. tell me where your hurt." he pats your cheek, snapping you a little out of your stupor. you blinked. his faced was pulled taught with worry, lines creased his skin in places that looked almost painful. and his eyes...
"Miguel... hhhave... your eyessschanged?" you weren't sure if it was the delirium from the pain finally setting in, or if your bathroom light just highlighted the underlying hues, but his tired brown eyes had shifted to a shade of... dare you say red.
they flicked back to your face, they had this wild look in them, like he was angry. but his voice wobbled like he was scared. "tell me where the pain is."
"... M' back.." you mumbled. he tugs on your shoulder to twist you around, making you whine. he apologizes quietly, before turning back to the red stains that were crawling up the back of your shirt.
you both descended into a tense silence. Miguel looked cramped, hovering over you in your tiny bathroom. he had to draw in his arms to not knock into your shower. not the most ideal place to play nurse... but he would manage. Miguel unshealthes his talons and cuts open the fabric like its warm butter. all you feel is a cold draft hit your back, and you shudder.
when he gets a good look at the state of your back his heart drops, what he finds isn't what he was expecting. your lower back is marred with an explosion like mass of burned skin. the center of the wound is deeper and more bloody then the rest, like something fast, blunt and burning hot struck you there.
God.
"Y/N, what the hell happened?" he glances at your bathroom bin and spots your old, scorched shirt lying inside. so you really were changing... that explained why the shirt you were wearing didn't have a massive gaping hole in it.
"Lyla. whats the aetiology for this." she flickers into view next to him, screening your back, and she winces.
"the lascerations have been caused by 1st and 2nd degree burns, the wound has become infected and needs to be treated immediately. the depth of the wound is telling me that the collision was hard and fast, likely a projectile."
"they were shot?."
"most likely. not by any normal weapon though, obviously." she confirmed, "it... doesn't look like the infection has interfered with the spinal collum." she optimistically added.
"will it scar?" he tilted his head towards her, but didn't take his eyes off the wound.
the Ai assistant didn't respond, calculating the most nerve settling response to his question. her silence told him everything he needed to know. "yeah, don't answer that." a snarl was building in his throat, fighting its way to the top.
he spots the first aid bag and its contents sprawled across your counter. most of it was over the counter painkillers, light ointments and bandaids. nothing in there that would help you.
"ok." he drags his hand down his face looking around the room. "Hijo de puta-!" his fist banged against the wall in a burst of anger, the pathetic thin walls rattled underneath the force. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?!"
you were stuck in this apartment by yourself, barely able to move or, jesus, even think. the fact that he could have never come… No, that he had come but couldve left here without knowing you were going through this on your own... the thought made him sick. why did you let it get this bad? what had happened?
you don't answer his question, your breathing has started to grow heavier, fevered. the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck had grown thicker as well. miguel reaches out to hold you steady. his mind racing. you can't stay here.
he knows he has to make a call. literally. he lifts his watch to his face.
"Jess, get someone on the medical team to prepare for my arrival." he picks you up carefully and fights to keep his voice from rising, he wasn't thinking clearly. all he could think about was getting you somewhere safe.
it wasn't common for miguel to ask for medical assistance, even at times when he probably should. he didn't like calling for help, he prefered to do things on his own, even to his own detriment. the idea that something could shake miguel up like this, making him ask for assistance, was new. Jessica could hear the tension in his throat as clear as day.
"whats your condition." she responded, concern shining through in her voice.
"no, no. i'm fine." he answered. "i've got an injured with me, they've been shot and need first aid immedietely. its a second degree burn that been left for over 24 hours, its infected."
"...done." she answers. "are they a new recruit?"
"they're a friend."
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Pozole: a traditional soup or stew that is made from hominy with meat, you can put in things like shredded lettuce/cabbage, chilli peppers, onions, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa or limes. (this sounds scrummy ngl i'm so hungry bro)
"Lo siento": i'm sorry (this is when he goes "Lo si-" but cuts himself off)
"Oi, mami": hey, Mama (i learned that mami or mamita can be used in a lot of different ways. native spanish speakers can use it to adress parentel figures, friends that give motherly energy, or it can even be used as a funny nickname for kids. i've seen a lot of people use it sexually in fics, but apparently thats not always the case!)
aetiology: kind of like a diagnosis, but different. its the cause of a desease or condition. idk if it's applicable to wounds, though.
"Hijo de puta-!": son of a bitch-!
I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating languages let me know! i'd be really interested.
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satorusugurugurl · 3 months ago
Note
Toji as a bodyguard
Til’ the Day that I Die
Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?
Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)
Word Count: 4.5K
A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)
Part Two Part Three Part Four
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Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.
One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.
But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.
It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.
That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.
“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”
You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.
“W-What—?”
“No, never!”
“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”
Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.
If you could even call him a man.
A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.
“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”
“E-Everywhere?”
“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”
You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.
Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?
“Right, thank you.”
“You’re welcome--”
“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”
“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.
“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”
Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.
Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.
Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”
“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”
“A sign? Like a signal?”
“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”
You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.
“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.
“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”
“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”
There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.
“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”
“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”
Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.
There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.
“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”
“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”
The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.
“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”
“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”
Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.
But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.
Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.
What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.
After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.
After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.
“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”
Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.
Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.
“Did you make sure to tag the—“
“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”
“Never.”
“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”
Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!
“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”
“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”
You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.
Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.
The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.
Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.
If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.
Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.
These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?
You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.
You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.
You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.
“Ijichi! Hi!”
“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”
Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.
“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”
“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”
No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.
“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.
“Huh?”
His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”
“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”
“I don't eit—”
Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.
“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”
“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”
This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!
You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.
“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”
“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”
Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.
“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”
Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.
“And another thi—”
The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.
“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”
Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.
This was fucking serious.
(TBC)
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