#Shit I've Had On Repeat Recently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nellielsss · 5 months ago

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⤜♡→ ɯҽʅƈσɱҽ ԋσɱҽ, ԃαɾʅιɳɠ!

Summary: something soft and sweet... you've missed him, & he's missed you! Give him a big, welcome home kiss; it'll take all that stress away! Note: pure fluff! I've been stressed out recently and I need some comfort. IB by Plastic off the Sofa by Beyoncé. I also kinda went overboard on Toji's bit. This shall also be edited later on, I just wanted to post it immediately so I could go to bed 💀 IT'S ALSO 11.3K WORDS SOO Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro CW: lewd jokes (kinda)

╰┈➤ Work... so, so much work. It's like the jobs are never-ending! After Toji Zen'in decided to take up some more work in order to provide for your guys' future and the lifestyle you deserved, the amount of jobs that he's taken up has increased tenfold. Even he, a man who was in peak, even superhuman physical condition, had his limits. The number of jobs he's ground out has to be in the double digits (and not some puny number in the tens). After the 21st job, he gave up on keeping count. He was able to justify the grueling workload, though, because of you. You were his everything, the reason for doing what he did (which included living), and he'd be damned if he couldn't spoil his future wife like he wanted.

Finally, he had earned enough to satisfy his unrelenting need to provide for you after he closed up on his last and biggest mission yet: a job that took 3 days and paid him over 48 million yen (~300,000 USD). It was enough to last the two of you for the rest of the year and then some. The man breathed a sigh of relief when he got the bank notification on his cellphone, and he said to himself: "a job well done, Zen'in." He even smiled in public a little bit at the sight of it. He then put the phone in his pant pocket and went on his merry way back home to you.

You, meanwhile, were in the living room of your shared apartment, fixing up a little celebratory dinner. He'd told you about how this was the last night he was gonna come home late, how this was the last job that would keep you apart, how he was gonna take you on an all expenses paid shopping trip the minute you had time to go with him to Shibuya. You knew he had certain sacrifices to make, given the fact that neither of you had much money when you started dating, and that was why you never chose to complain.

But that didn't mean that you didn't miss him.

You missed his touch, you missed his tender kisses, the way that he held you close as if he was afraid of you being stolen from him by some unseen force, and you sure as shit missed all the nights spent together in each other's company watching shitty movies & UFC fights.

The way he tilted your chin up to make you kiss him, the way the words "pretty" and "doll" rolled right off his tongue, the way he looked at you like you were god's gift to this shitty world...

All of a sudden, you heard the door swing open with the sounds of the rain pitter-pattering outside of the balcony entrance. You knew he was coming home earlier tonight, but you didn't know he'd be home that early!

"Princess?" his gruff voice called out from the door. He closed the door behind him and dropped his robust duffel bags next to the door, letting out another sigh of happiness. He looked up at the ceiling lamp before looking back in front of him, and he outstretched his arms the moment he saw you coming from down the hallway. "Princess," he repeated, a soft smile growing across his face as you jumped into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face into your neck.

"Toji!" You exclaimed into his black sweater, breathing in his natural smell... and he smelled just like home. He always managed to smell good, even when his job involved less-than-ideal activities. "I missed you," was what you finally said after the two of you took in each other's presence.

"Missed you too," he hummed, craning his head to look down at you. "God, I've missed you... missed you so much, baby." His mind was so swamped with work, he had forgotten what a beauty he held in his arms. After he took a few moments to admire you, his sense of smell brought him back to reality, and he could smell his favorite meal from the kitchen. "Is that... offal meat I smell?" he asked, looking at the kitchen and then back at you.

"It sure is," you replied excitedly, making his smile grow even wider.

"Princess, did you really make my favorite?" he asked to which you nodded and giggled. "You didn't have to, baby," he replied, ruffling your hair gently with his big hand.

You pulled away from his embrace and he pouted instinctively, not wanting you to go anywhere just yet. "I didn't know when you were coming home, so it's not ready just yet." He watched the sexy sway of your hips before catching up to you, not wanting to leave his princess by herself after just seeing her again.

"I don't mind," he replied, following you into the kitchen. He stood behind you as you continued prepping it and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "I thought you didn't like it, though?"

"I still don't," you corrected him, "but I just figured that, with how tired from work you must be, you'd enjoy it."

He continued smiling down at you and placed his lips on your head. "You really are the best, y'know?" he muttered in between crown kisses.

"I know," you replied coolly, as if you didn't just make his favorite meal.

"Still cocky as ever, I see," he quipped, making you giggle again.

"Go ahead and sit down on the couch. It won't be ready for another ten minutes, and you must be exhausted from all this work." You looked over your shoulder at him, only to see that he wasn't budging. "Toji, I'm serious! I know you're the big, bad 'sorcerer killer' and whatever else you might be, but even you need to take a break every now and then. I don't want you throwing your back when you're still in your prime!"

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head, hiding his face in your neck. "Don't wanna; not when I've got the best thing in the world right in my arms, and who's to say I'm reaching my end soon? I'm just getting started, sweetness," he replied with a confident grin. You didn't say anything in response, instead grabbing him by the hand and dragging him to the couch. "Princess..."

"Just sit down already, you stubborn brute," you muttered under your breath. "Sit down, and let me take care of you for once. Just rest your feet and wait 'til I'm done making dinner, okay?"

He didn't say anything, instead crossing his arms over his chest like an impotent teenager. "Fine, fine... I guess I'll relax for a 'lil. Now go on, don't let the meat burn."

"I'll make sure it's cooked to perfection, you big baby," you reassured him. He cracked a little smile and watched you walk off, going to finish the meal that you'd cooked especially for his return from work. He guessed it wasn't too bad to let you take the reins every once in a while... he was always the one bringing home the dough, making dinner for the two of you, and making sure that your pretty little face didn't have a single stress line or brow furrow on it.

He kicked up his feet on the wooden coffee table and patiently waited for you to finish. He wasn't exactly used to relaxing and lounging around when you were doing stuff; he was always the one taking care of his sweet baby.

So, he looked around at the apartment the two of you shared. His green eyes scanned over everything, from the framed portraits to the color palette you used for the living room. He grabbed a nearby photo of the two of you, and he couldn't help but smile: it was a photo of you two at an ice skating rink. He remembered that day so, so fondly, the memory of you helping him learn making his heart swell with affection and joy.

You looked so effortlessly cute in that little knitted beret of yours, and the matching grey & pink Burberry cape & skirt combo only made you look even cuter. A stark contrast to his usual all-black or grey ensembles, but in your eyes, the contrast only made him hotter in your eyes.

The two of you were just so different, and yet; you were perfect for one another. You went together like jam and toast, with you being the oh-so sweet strawberry jam that he couldn't get enough of.

Oh, how he loved ravishing you any chance he could get. The feeling of your soft, untainted & supple skin against his scars; your soft chest squished against his hard one; the way your plush thighs expanded when he bent your knees to your chest...

He was just so incredibly in love with you that coming home to you and bringing you flowers was the highlight of his day.

After all, ou were the one who showed him how to love. You were the one who restored his faith in humanity, and you were the one who made him feel like he was more than Zen'in trash.

You were a paladin sent from heaven, and he'd rip apart anyone with his bare claws if they tried to take you away from him. He'd tear the throat & heart out of the people who so much as even thought about doing so.

Because, you... you were home to him.

"It's readyyy!" you sang from the kitchen, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Coming, princess," he called out to you, getting off the sofa and sauntering over to the dining table. It was laid out beautifully, the fine china he stole obtained from a client and the silverware he also stole making everything just perfect.

"Doll..." he walked over to you, wrapping his big arms around you and cradling you close. "You didn't have to do all of this for me, y'know?"

"I know; just wanted to make you feel appreciated, was all." You flashed him a bright smile, and he felt his heart skip a beat. That smile... fuck, he could just devour you for dinner and skip all this other stuff.

"Even so much as looking in my direction makes me feel appreciated, baby, but I appreciate the dinner regardless." He pulled you in close and pressed some kisses along your spine, inhaling your scent like you were the oxygen needed for him to live. "God.... god, god, god--I don't even know what I did to deserve you, baby. You're the best fuckin' woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You don't have to do anything but love me, Toji," you whispered back, a rare moment of vulnerability shining through. "You love me more than any man ever has, and for that I cannot repay you. All you have to do is protect me and maybe give me a couple kisses, though."

His eyes widened and closed slightly, his mind registering the ambrosia of your words. "Doll... you're gonna make me cry over meat, y'know?"

"Oh, Toji," you giggled, grabbing either side of his face. "Try not to cry over the offal; it'l make it soggy and gross."

"You're right, you're right," he conceded, taking his place at the table. He took a bite of the meal that you so graciously prepared for him, and his eyes widened--it was like the food came straight from heaven. "This is... delicious, doll. How the hell did you make it so tender?"

"You think so? I'm not much of a cook, but I'll take the compliments regardless," you giggled. "So, now that you have work off for the rest of the year, where are we headed off to? Kyoto? Okinawa?" you asked in between bites, finding the meat surprisingly good yourself. "I've got a vacation lined up soon, perhaps we could get out of Tokyo for a little while.

"Hm... a vacation would be nice," he pondered for a moment. "But, if we're talking about a vacation after I just got my big pay day, you might wanna think bigger than just Japan, baby," he retorted with a sly grin.

"Paris?" you asked sarcastically.

He didn't say anything, instead smiling at you knowingly. You quickly realized that he wasn't joking around with you. "Toji... Toji!" you repeated, jumping up from your seat and hugging him. "You're taking me to Paris?! Oh my god, I just love you, Toji!"

"Only the best for my princess," he chuckled. "Figured I'd spoil ya with my little check. I don't gotta work for the rest of the year, so we can plan according to your schedule, baby. I'm thinking after Paris, we can go to Rome, too."

You looked at him again, a satisfied smile gracing your gorgeous features. "I am so gonna suck your dick," you sighed, making him burst out in laughter

"I was gonna give it to ya with no strings attached, but, hey; I'm not stopping ya!"

Curiosity got the better of you, and you had to ask: "but, if you've already got it planned, then... how'd you know I'd have the weeks off?"

He shrugged. "Just a sixth sense. May have pulled a few strings here and there, but it's no biggie."

"Wait, that was you who got me the time off? No wonder it was for 3 weeks; I usually never get a vacation!"

"Baby, you already know I'd do anything for you. I've dealt with way more stressful situations than talking to your boss, so it really was nothing for me." By the way he said it, you could just tell that he was being serious. The man's an assassin--if he wanted something done, he'd get it done.

You continued to eat your food only you smiled at him the entire time. "Paris... I've never been to Paris before," you sighed dreamily. "I've always wanted to go there since I was little."

"Well, now's your chance," Toji hummed. "The city of love with your love, does it get any better than that?"

You put your chopsticks down and smiled brightly at him. "No, it really doesn't." You leaned in, pressing a nice, big kiss to his cheek. You were about to pull away when he pulled you back in, clearly demanding more.

"Nah, don't gimme those cheek kisses; kiss me on the lips like I'm your boyfriend," he demanded, making you laugh again. He pulled you in by the waist, plopped you on his lap, and all but smothered your face in a big, sloppy kiss. "Baby, I gotta tell ya," he murmured in between smooches, "and I know I've told you this a lot," even more kisses, "but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't even know what possessed you to pick me, but I am one lucky bastard... good god, woman, why do your lips taste so fucking good?"

"It's the taste of love," you murmured. Normally, he would've recoiled at how mushy your words were, but every ounce of mush made him hungrier for more.

"Whatever it may be... I want more of it. Order up!" he joked, making you giggle yet again. "C'mon, let's finish this meal up so we can get to the good part: the cuddles."

"You don't wanna have sex?" you asked with a furrowed brow.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm kinda tired. I know we have it every night we're together, but I'm wiped from all the work. Let's just cuddle, yeah? I don't mean to disappoint you or anything, baby..."

You put a hand on his cheek and rubbed it soothingly. "You're not disappointing me; you could never disappoint me. I was just a little confused, but it's alright. We can cuddle." Your hand subconsciously rubbed the scar on his lip, and he couldn't help but smile at you.

"You're the best, sweetheart," he whispered before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

"Ahh," Toji sighed as he laid down on the bed next to you, "this is just what I needed, sweet stuff." He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, wrapping his big arms around your body.

You were currently laying down on your shared bed when he finally made his way into the bedroom. Toji had to take a quick shower before he could engage in any sort of cuddles with you, due to the fact that he smelled like blood and bones. He threw on a sweater over his still-damp body and immediately got into bed with you.

"C'mere, big boy," you said giddily, "and gimme some love."

"You don't have to tell me twice." After a few seconds of kissing, his hands roamed around your body and went up your shirt.

"Didn't you tell me that you didn't wanna have sex?" you asked jokingly, your eyebrow raised.

"I just wanna touch my woman, not touch her like that," he quipped to which you giggled and kissed him again.

"I know, I know. I just felt like teasin' ya," you hummed, booping his sharp nose with the tip of your finger. He merely shook his head and continued kissing you, the scar on his lip tickling your own lips. Still, you welcomed that tickle--for that tickle represented how tough and strong Toji was. It was funny how something so small could have such a huge effect on the man, for where Toji saw a remnant of his weakness and his disgusting past, you saw his bravery and his courageousness. It was like a trophy in your eyes, a shiny, gold object that you couldn't help but admire.

It was a damn shame he couldn't see it the way you did.

But why would he? It did represent the ugliness of the Zen'in clan, the clan that abused him and took him for granted. So, instead of starting a debate over a scar of all things; you decided to remind him of his worth in a way that wouldn't stir up bad memories for him.

"Toji, my big, handsome baby," you started, your lips moving from his to his cheek.

"Hmmm? What is it, my sweet, beautiful princess?"

You kissed a trail from his cheeks and to the bridge of his nose. "I just... can't help but admire you, y'know?"

He quirked an eyebrow (which you kissed) and looked at you more intently. "Elaborate."

"You're just such a strong man, both physically and mentally. You care for me in ways no man ever has before, and you cradle me to your heart as if I'd shatter if dropped." After kissing his eyebrow (which he still found odd), you moved his bangs out of the way and kissed his forehead several times.

"Now you're just butterin' me up, doll," he chuckled with a light pink blush.

"You're incredible, y'know?" you murmured, "an incredible man, so worthy of my respect and love... you look at me like I'm the Earth and you're the Moon."

"That's because you are, baby," he muttered.

You simply smiled at him and continued kissing him. "You've had a rough life, but you're still here; you're stronger, if anything. You're resilient in ways I could only dream of being."

By this point, Toji had gone silent, the sudden rush of emotions making him stop talking. He didn't wanna start crying in the middle of your little trail of kisses, after all.

"Do you know how much I love you, Toji?" this time, instead of continuing to kiss him, you pulled back and looked at him.

He nodded silently.

"I love you more than anything, baby. I love you more than... well, I honestly can't think of anything that comes close to you in terms of love."

"Baby-" he choked up, his voice cracking slightly.

"You don't have to speak, Toji. Just hold me and let me tell you how much I love you, 'kay? You've had a rough week, so just sit back, relax, and let me take care of you." You pressed another kiss to his nose and smiled at him.

He nodded, going back to silence. Your lips moved from his nose to his lips, and you pressed a special kiss to where his scar was. His eyes widened, knowing good and well what you were doing. You didn't have to tell him; you just had to kiss him in that special spot--the spot which was the bane of his existence.

A few more kisses to the scar, and you pulled back again. "I love you, Toji... I love you, love you, love you, love you, love youu, I love you..." the little whispers of your love came out of your lips like a never-ending stream in spring, like a waterfall after a rainstorm. With each "I love you," Toji felt himself being pushed to the brink of losing it.

You, the ever-vigilant girl that you were, picked up on this quite easily. It was easy to tell when he was on the brink of breaking down, especially since he tried to hide his gaze and the quiver of his lip. So, you gave him the go ahead: "go on, Toji, cry your heart out."

And so he did. He buried his face within the crook of your neck and started crying, his entire body being wracked with emotion. You sat up on the bed and got into a more comfortable position so that he could be soothed.

"C'mon, Toji, just let it out. I'm never gonna judge you for anything; not a single thing, do you hear me?" you whispered into his ear. He nodded and simply wrapped his entire body around yours. He was twice the size of you; but right now, he felt like the littlest man on Earth. He felt like the little Zen'in boy who was cast aside and tossed into a pit of horrors; like the young man who found himself on the brink of homelessness; like the scared & scarred lost soul.

He may have been scarred, but right now, he wasn't scared, nor was he lost.

He was home.

"I f-fucking love you, princess," he managed to choke out in between sobs, his head slightly craned up to look at you through his tears. "D-Do you hear me? If I ever lose you--if I ever hurt you-"

"You needn't think about that right now, Toji. Just cry, baby. Cry all the tears you've been bottling up, and let me pick up the pieces after you're done."

He nodded, burying his face into your torso and crying his eyes out. The pink sweater which you had on was now wet and damp from all the crying, but that could be fixed with a simple dry. Right now, you were focused on your boyfriend.

"I'll always be here to pick up the pieces."

╰┈➤ Overtime could be such a pain, especially for Kento Nanami. Seriously: the thought of spending his entire day (the time after 6 PM) fighting a bunch of ugly, hideous curses who did nothing but attack and kill innocent people was more repulsive than the curses themselves. At least, while he was dating you, his sweetheart. You were everything to Nanami. In his eyes, you were a lighthouse in a dangerous ocean filled with stormy waters and jagged rocks that tore apart the boats that passed through the area; you were iced lemonade on a hot summer day; you were an angel sent from heaven itself to heal his past troubles and give him a much needed break.

This day was no different. Kento was in severe need of some comfort, and he looked to you for help. Normally, he wouldn't dump all his trouble on you, but it was growing to be way too much for him.

"Ugh... so tired..." the blonde man said to himself. He grabbed the Rolex watch that you gifted him for your anniversary and checked the time: 5:53 PM. Just 7 short minutes, and he'd be able to go back home to you.

Time never seemed to go by as fast as it did when he wanted it to, nor did it go by as slow as when he wanted it to. It was like his workdays were 10 hours long, and the time he spent with you was 1.

"Hey, Nanamiiiin~!" the oh-so annoying voice of Satoru Gojo, his "coworker," perked up.

"Why are you always here at the worst times?"

"You're always so mean, do you ever lighten up?" the white-haired man pouted before settling into a chair next to him. He relaxed into it and stretched his long legs out. "Sooo, Nanamin, you got any plans for after work?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you... wanna tell me 'bout em?"

"No, I don't."

"Aw, come on! You're not making this any easier for me," Gojo whined, rolling around in the chair.

"That's because I don't want to."

"Hmph." He crossed his arms and pouted again, looking around for something to do. "Neither of us wanna be here so late, anyway--and we both wanna go home. Why not a little bit of small talk with your favorite before we head out?"

"You're not my favorite; Itadori is, but fine, I'll humor you." He grabbed his wallet and opened it up, showing Gojo a photo of you. "My after work plans are to pick up some flowers on the way home & head home to my wife."

Gojo looked at the photo for a few seconds before chuckling a bit. "Yeah, that checks out. I mean, if I was in a relationship, I'd also wanna head home ASAP. Think I could help you pick those flowers out?"

"No, you don't know what kind of flowers she likes."

"Hmph." He pouted once again.

Nanami grabbed the wallet and smiled at it softly for a few seconds. "She likes peonies and irises..." he trailed off. Gojo didn't say anything, instead smiling at his adoration for you. The clock finally hit 6, and Nanami sprang up from his chair, grabbed his belongings, and sped off home. "Have a good rest of your day, Satoru," he called over his shoulder.

"You too, Nanamin," he replied softly.

"I wonder what's taking him so long," you hummed to yourself over your dinner plate. You were currently seated at the dining table of your shared apartment, the one that you bought after getting married 2 years ago. You looked around at everything, at the life that the two of you had built after so many years of dating, engagement & marriage.

Like the couch that Nanami had brought with him when you were moving in together. It was a cream leather couch--nothing special or amazing, but it was a moniker of your relationship's progress.

Or the hardwood table that sat next to it. It was one of the many things that the two of you had purchased when you were buying furniture for the apartment.

It wasn't just the material possessions that were markers of your progress: the photos of the two of you that hung on the walls; the little souvenirs you picked up in places like Malaysia; and the stuff you bought at flea markets were markers of such.

"He's never late... he's always home at 6:20," you pouted. "He's not... no, what am I thinking? He's been late before."

Just as you'd said those words, you heard the door unlock, and your head swiveled in the direction of the sound.

"Honey? I'm home!" he called out. He loosened his tie and took it off, and then he took his blazer off and hung it up on the wall. He was met by the sight of you walking towards him, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

"Welcome home, darling!" You enthused, throwing your arms around your beloved's shoulders and kissing him. Your hug was cushioned by the flowers which crinkled under the compression, and you looked down at it. "Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn't see those there--are they for me?"

"Who else would they be for?" he retorted, making you smile.

"Well... I guess you're right!" You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek again. You took his blazer and put it in his closet, and then you returned to his awaiting arms. "How was work?"

"The same," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Satoru was bothering me, as per usual, and I didn't have any more missions than usual. It was really quite boring."

"Well, then, I'll make sure your evening's not boring," you promised him.

"They could never be boring with you."

Your smile widened in response. "Come, come; let's eat dinner before it gets cold, kay?" He nodded happily and followed you to the table, and he took his place beside you.

"You're always treating me so amazing, sweetheart," he sighed as he relaxed into the soft chair.

"It's just dinner," you said bashfully, waving your hand around.

"Even if it was just ramen, it was you made it for me, therefore it makes it all the more special."

"So, you're saying you want me to make us microwaved ramen?" you teased with a cocked eyebrow.

"Well... if you made it, I'd still eat it, yes."

You couldn't help but giggle, and he chuckled as well. "Don't worry; I'd never subject you to that kind of torment. If we're gonna be starting a family soon, then I'll need to hone my skills as a mother & make sure our kids will be well-fed!"

Ah, that's right: you were starting a family soon. There was a reason you looked for a 3-bed and not a 2-bed when you went apartment shopping. The mention of your future kids reminded him of all the names that the two of you mulled over. You were still finding the perfect ones, but you still had time to settle on them.

"Kento, eat up already! Don't let my hard work go to waste," you said as you picked up the katsu curry with your signature pink chopsticks. Even after becoming Mrs. (Y/N) Nanami, you still stayed true to your pink ways.

"Sorry, sorry. I wouldn't wanna tarnish my beautiful wife's handiwork; not even a little bit."

"It's just dinner," you reminded him, making him chuckle.

"You're right, you're right," he conceded. "Happy wife, happy life."

After dinner ended, and you tried to clean up both of your plates, Nanami stopped you. "Here, let me, sweetheart," he said before standing up.

"There's no need, Kento," you stopped him by putting your hand on his wrist. "You were at work all day; just sit back and let me handle all the heavy lifting."

He was about to protest when he saw the look in your eyes. Normally, he wouldn't let you lift a single finger; but he saw how determined you were to do this simple act of cleaning up the dirty dishes. He knew he had no choice but to let you have your way. Therefore, he sat back down at the table. "Okay, sweetheart. I'll let you do your thing," he nodded. "Just don't dirty up that shirt of yours."

You flashed him a smile and rolled the sleeves of your pink silk blouse up. "I wouldn't dream of it." You then grabbed the plates and made quick work of them in the sink & put them away in the dishwasher. Then, you returned to him and unfolded your sleeves again. "Now, then, what would my amazing & handsome & super sexy husband like to do now?"

His eyebrow raised the more adjectives you used to describe him. "Well, your husband would like to cuddle with his wife for a little bit. Would she like that?"

You nodded giddily, dragging him by the arm already. "Hurry up, slowpoke!" you quipped, making him chuckle again. He didn't say a word as you kicked off your heels & climbed onto the bed, taking extra time just to pose extra sexily for him. Your smile quickly dropped when he went to the dresser and started taking all of his stuff off. "Kento!" you whined as he took off his rolex.

"I don't want all this stuff making you uncomfortable while we cuddle," he retorted, bringing a gasp & a smile to your face.

"Fine, fine... just get over here the millisecond you finish."

And go over there he did. He kicked off his house shoes and finally stepped onto the bed where you patiently waited, and he pulled you into a nice, warm hug. "C'mere already, let me hug you," he muttered as he did so.

"I wouldn't dream of denying you," you sighed happily. He sank his lips & nose into the top of your head and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and perfume like a man who hasn't seen his partner after spending time apart.

"Do you know how much I love you, (Y/N)?" he asked you quietly, now looking down at you.

"You tell me everyday," you murmured contently.

"It's not enough... need to remind you every chance I get," he whispered, pressing several kisses to your scalp. "You don't know how important you are to me, sweetheart. You're one of the only good things of mine that are untouched, untainted by the hideous double life I live.

"Ken, don't think about that, hm? Matter of fact: if you wanna quit and leave that life behind, then you should. It's not good for you, or for us," you whispered with a tinge of sadness in your voice.

He looked off to the side, took a deep breath, and looked back at you. "One day, I will. It pays well, and it makes our dream lives much more attainable... we could go for ages without needing to work."

You smiled sadly at him and put your head back on his chest. "Whatever you need to do, I'll support you in it. Just... promise me it'll reach an endpoint, okay? I don't wanna see you struggle just to provide for us."

"I'll do anything for you, sweetheart. Even sacrifice myself just to do so. I'll fall if it means you can rise." You looked at him one last time before closing your eyes.

"Just be sure I can catch you when you fall, alright?"

╰┈➤ "Work... so much work..." the white-haired man's face fell into the equally white stack of papers which he had to grade. Satoru Gojo prided himself on being a good teacher, however, one of the pitfalls of being a teacher involved grading all these papers. It's not like he taught some boring subjects like history or--god forbid--algebra! But, even so, he hated this part of the job.

Being a teacher was a surprisingly rewarding job for the man. Even though he initially had no expectations outside of producing good sorcerers, he actually liked the job. He got to meet some amazing students & prodigies and, if he did a good job, then he'd create an amazing generation of future sorcerers!

But, part of that nurturing process was grading these stupid papers.

When he graded one paper, another 10 would appear. By the time he'd be done with these stacks of tests and assignments, then it'd be past midnight for him.

And he couldn't let his job cut into his relationship with you--not when he made a promise to never let you feel taken for granted.

Then again, he had deadlines and other, different responsibilities to fulfill.

"Gotta get through these papers, Satoru... don't wanna spend another day in this stupid office."

"Yoohoo!"

A voice appeared from behind Gojo and he almost jumped out of his seat and hollow purpled you. "(Y-Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?! Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack there!" He tried to pass off his initially embarrassing scare by laughing it off and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, Nanamin told me about how you'd been spending all this time cooped up in your office, and, since it's been cutting into our relationship time: I figured it'd do me some good to come and see you myself!" Before he could even respond, you pulled up a chair and sat next to your boyfriend.

"Pookie-bear, I don't want you to sacrifice your quality time for me," he retorted with a pout.

You rolled your eyes at his silly little nickname. "Every time you call me pookie-bear, it's almost impossible to take you seriously. Anyway, quality time is only quality time if I spend it with you or shopping, and shopping is never fun without you."

"It's because my wallet's limitless, isn't it?"

"Well... it never hurts you if your wallet's a bottomless pit of money, does it?" He couldn't exactly refute that statement, so he merely laughed.

"Alrighty, then. If that's how you really feel, then I suppose I can't exactly kick you out. But I must warn you, sugar-bear: it's gonna be really boring to sit around and grade all this stuff with me."

"Good thing I'm also a teacher," you giggled, scooching closer to him.

"Right, I forgot you're a teacher... probably because you teach a subject as lame as Japanese history!" he teased you, ruffling your hair.

"It's not lame--what do you even do, huh? Teach all this stupid stuff like 'cursed energy' which we've known since birth?! You might as well be teaching chemistry," you snarked back, effectively shutting him up.

"I'm so hurt!" he said dramatically, "my girlfriend thinks my subject matter isn't important..." he even put his hand on his forehead and pretended to die.

"Ate you up," you snickered, grabbing one of the stacks and looking at it. "Hmm... this stuff's not too hard to grade, but I can see why you've been cooped up in here since there's so much of it."

"Baby, I don't want you to die of boredom," Gojo whined, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. "Seriously, it's gonna make you look at me like I'm some sort of loser."

You scoffed and looked up at your boyfriend. "Satoru, it's fine. I can handle grading a couple of dumb papers. You most likely think that I'll die of boredom because of the number of papers you've graded on your own. You probably mistook the boredom as difficulty--so really, it's fine."

Gojo was now agape at your observation, given how spot on it was. "That's... exactly how I felt about it. Damn, baby, you're a smart one."

"Did you think I was dumb or something?"

"Well, no!"

"It's fine, it's fine--I'm just messin' with ya. If I was dumb, you probably wouldn't have liked me from the jump." You were already on your fifth paper by the time you were at this point in the conversation. "And, anyway, even if it is as boring as you say it is, then it'll be cut in half by my assistance. Then, we can go home, pick up some kikufuku, and then watch some stupid movie & go to bed in our new matching PJs. Now, doesn't that outweigh the boredom?"

"Well, when you put it like that..." Gojo pretended to think before he threw his hands up. "It does!"

You giggled and kissed his cheek. "I knew you were a smart one."

The two of you decided to focus on the papers and lock in so that you could get out of that room quicker. He wasn't lying; there was an immense amount of stuff that needed to be graded, and his inability to sit in peace didn't make it any easier for the two of you. He'd poke your sides, try to pull you into his lap, and almost fall asleep on your head.

"Satoru," you said in warning, "focus. If you want that kikufuku, then you'd better grade these things. We can play some music... actually, you'd probably get even more distracted."

"Aw, babe! I liked the idea of listening to music," he whined with his signature pout. "Ugh, why did I have to take up teaching!" He complained, putting his hands over his face.

"Because you make bad choices," you said while taking his hands off his face. "Now, put these fingers to good use-"

"Good use? I can think of more than a few-"

"Satoru!"

"Sorry..."

You took a deep breath. "As I was saying, put these hands to good use and keep grading, alright?" You even put your hands on the pencil he was holding and he solemnly nodded.

"Fine... only because you're asking me." He picked up his pen and started grading it again, and he actually managed to focus on his papers.

23... 24... 25...

32... 33... 34...

49... 50... 51...

Geez, how many students did he even teach?! It was actually beginning to look like he was reaching his limit with this grading effort. Many things in this world were limitless, and that included his papers

"(Y/N)-" he was about to ask if you guys were any close to being done when he looked at the number of papers that were left on the table.

They were almost gone.

"Oh," he said, rather unceremoniously. "They're... they're almost gone?"

"Hm?" you looked over at Gojo, confused as to why he was confused. "Yeah, they are. We graded them quite quickly, if you couldn't tell," you explained with a light smile on your face. "Just about 9 more, and then we can head home-"

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" he had to resist the urge to jump up from the table and run around the room, but he luckily had you to keep him in his seat.

"Easy there," you steadied him. "We still have nine to grade, so don't start celebrating just yet."

9... 8... 7...

6... 5... 4...

3... 2... 1...

"WOOOHOOO!!!!" this time, he was actually able to get out of his seat and stretch his legs. "Finally--we can go home!"

"Satoru, calm down! Don't wake up the students- hey!" He'd suddenly scooped you up off your chair and started running from the building. "I CAN WALK, Y'KNOW!!"

"Why would you need to when you're dating the strongest?!"

"This is way better than spending the rest of my days at that school," Gojo sighed while munching on his kikufuku. Naturally, he had to buy at least 9 boxes of it, just to satisfy his limitless appetite. You, a normal person, had only 2 of them.

"How do you stay in shape when you eat all that sugar and do nothing all day long?" you asked, looking at the empty boxes of sweets that he chowed down on.

"Because... my metabolism... is great!" he replied, his mouth full of the food. He swallowed all the food was in his mouth, then dove right back into his kikufuku. "Are you calling me fat, babe?" he asked, pouting at you slightly.

"Well... you're not fat; you just eat three times as much as I do."

"Well one of us has to eat! How else will these vendors stay in business?"

"Leave it to your limitless wallet and appetite," you sighed, deciding to enjoy the sweets for yourself. In the time that it took for you to finish your boxes, he had already eaten all 9 of his.

"Ahh, that sure hit the spot," Gojo sighed, settling back into his seat and stretching his long limbs out.

"I hope it did, since you ate 9 boxes," you muttered before stretching yourself. "Fuck, am I beat... maybe I should've heeded your advice and gone home instead of helping you."

He sat up a bit and looked at you through his messy white bangs. "But, if you didn't, then I'd still be at school, and you'd be all alone."

"I know, I know," you conceded, reaching out to move his bangs from his forehead. "I wouldn't have my handsome boyfriend keeping me company."

"Did you just call me handsome?" the smile on his face grew in size, and you couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Yeah, I did--because you're very handsome~"

"C'mere, you, and give your handsome boyfriend some sugar," he said giddily, already pulling you into his lap.

"You've already eaten enough sugar!" you protested as he pulled you in.

"I've got a sweet tooth, baby, and you're the sweetest thing I've ever sunk my teeth into." He finally had you where he wanted, and he couldn't resist the urge to literally latch onto you with his long limbs. "Mmm... I've missed you so much, sweet stuff. All those papers have been keeping you away from me, trying to steal me... well, guess what? A couple of dead trees have nothing on Satoru Gojo."

"Whatever you say, baby," you giggled into his chest. You simply sat there and let him do as he pleased, whether it be sniff your shampoo or give you a sweet kiss on the forehead. "Y'know what you said back there about me viewing you as a loser?"

He pulled back and looked at you. "Yeah, baby?"

"I just wanted to let you know that... there's nothing you could do that would make me view you as a loser. Even if your job may be boring at times, and even if you can sometimes act like a big baby, there's absolutely zero things that could skew my view of you. And you wanna know why that is?"

He was silent for a little bit before he realized you were asking him a question. "Yeah, I do wanna know."

You kissed him on the forehead, the cheeks & the nose, and then on the lips. "It's not because you're the strongest sorcerer; it's because you're the strongest person I know. You're more resilient than you think you are, at least mentally. You've been through so much in life, and you're still determined to build a better future for the Jujutsu world."

He was at a complete loss for words by what you were saying, the feeling of your hands on his cheeks a comforting warmth for him. "I... I don't even know what to say," Gojo's whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

You quickly realized that you might've gone a little overboard with the praises, and you let go of his face. "Shit, I'm sorry--I didn't upset you or anything, right?"

He put your hands back on his face and shook his head. "'s fine, I just didn't know where that came from, y'know? You started telling me how amazing I was out of nowhere."

Your smile softened and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I can't resist the urge to do so, y'know. You're just so amazing."

His shocked expression turned into a smile of his own, and he relaxed into your grip. "You're amazing too, baby. You don't view me as the strongest because of my power or my ability; you see past all that and you see the real me. And for that, I'm always gonna be the best and strongest boyfriend I can possibly be."

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Even if you're already the strongest, I'm gonna push you to be even stronger." You let him pull you in for a hug, and he enveloped you in his arms again.

"Did I ever tell you how amazing you are, (Y/N)? Because you deserve to hear it."

"You did, but you can always keep telling me, Satoru."

"Well, you're fucking incredible, sweets. If I ever forget to tell you of that, please just slap me on the face so I can be reminded."

"I'm not a fan of violence--at least not against my loved ones, but, if you say so!" The two of you giggled and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

"God, I love you. I seriously don't know where I'd be without you."

"Don't try to imagine it; just let yourself bask in the reality of your situation, 'kay?"

He nodded decisively and turned his focus back to you and your guys's current reality. "Why don't we make our reality a little bit sweeter and... relax on something much softer?"

By the time he asked you that, he'd already scooped you up bridal style and was carrying you into the bedroom. "Give a girl a moment to decide!"

"You were gonna say 'yes' anyway."

"You've got that right," you muttered before being plopped down onto the comforter. He then laid down next to you & wrapped his lanky arms, and legs, around your frame. Within only seconds, you were stuck in a prison made entirely of his limbs. "Are you sure this is comfortable for the both of us, or is it just comfy for you?"

"You don't want my cuddles?" he asked you into your hair.

"No, I do! I just don't wanna be imprisoned by you," you said into his chest.

"Fine, fine," he relented, untangling himself from you. He still kept his arms on you, though, and he refused to let go. The two of you were finally able to relax & bask in one another's presence, and it was a welcome reward for the long day of work.

"You wanna take a shower?-" When you looked up from where you laid, your boyfriend had already fallen asleep. His handsome face looked finally at peace, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "It's too bad I need to take a shower," you said under your breath, somehow able to disentangle yourself from his prison of cuddles.

"Don't go... need you here..." he said in his sleep, instinctively reaching out for you.

"I need to take a shower first, Satoru. And, while we're at it, you should probably change into some pajamas." Before you left the room to go shower, you peeled his jacket, work pants & undershirt, somehow getting him to make it easier for you. Then, you put on the matching set that the two of you had saw while surfing through the internet. "There we go. Isn't that much better?"

"Mm..." he mumbled into the pillow.

"I'll take that as a yes," you giggled softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before making your way out of the room to take that much needed shower.

When you returned from the bathroom with your hair washed & dried, you saw that he'd sunk even further into his little haven of pillows. You walked closer to him, a soft smile gracing your features once more, and you crawled into bed again.

"Hey, Toru," you murmured softly. "Did you miss me?"

"Too much..." he mumbled into the pillow. "Was waiting for you... can't sleep without you... y'know?"

"I know you can't," you giggled fondly. "Don't worry, though; I'm back, and I ain't going anywhere."

"Good... now, c'mere," he said, closing his eyes fully and pulling you into his warm embrace. He was warmer than any Kotatsu table that money could buy, sweeter than any kikufuku out there, and more amazing than Christian Dior.

Quite possibly the best part about sleeping next to Satoru was getting to see him at his most tranquil. You knew that he trusted you wholeheartedly, that he'd only ever open himself up fully to you. He entrusted you with his heart and soul, and you vowed to never let either one of those precious things get hurt. In reality, you were probably the only person who could hurt them in any capacity.

Satoru Gojo looked like an angel when he slept, with his snow white hair falling on the pillow and over his eyes, and the handsomest face you'd ever seen. Finally, after taking a good look at his face, you closed your eyes and cuddled closer to him.

"So ethereal when you're at peace."

╰┈➤ The job of a Magic Knight Captain wasn't for the weak, and anyone who took up the job knew that good and well. Not only were you expected to be among the strongest Magic Knights out there, but you were also expected to lead a group full of them & ensure their safety, survival, and growth. It was a job that required brains & brawn, leadership & personableness. Magic Knight Captains essentially had to become the parents of whoever they took under their wing, but perhaps no one was better suited for the job than Yami Sukehiro.

Although he was labeled every bad nickname under the sun, and although he was the antithesis of what a Clover Kingdom citizen should've been, acted or even looked like, the Black Bulls were probably the most successful squad in the history of the Kingdom, and that was all in thanks to Captain Yami and a few of his subordinates, but he's too stubborn to admit that.

All of this was to say that the job left him fucking exhausted.

Sure, the Black Bulls were an amazing bunch of "kids;" and sure, they were some of the strongest and valiant mages out there, but they were also extremely hard to rein in and were tiring to deal with on their own. Throw them into one building and make 'em live with one another? Now, that's enough to send any man into early retirement.

Then again, Yami wasn't just any man--but he was still a man at the end of the day. A man who, despite his preachings about "surpassing your limits," had his own limits with his squad.

Magna and Luck were giving him the worst possible headache with all of their "sparring." The sparring, in question, was happening inside, late at night, when everyone was supposed to be relaxing.

It didn't help that Asta was busy screaming on his own, and it also really didn't help that Noelle was screaming at him.

It didn't help that Gauche wouldn't shut up about Marie;

It didn't help that Gordon kept making those creepy dolls;

It didn't help that Vanessa wouldn't stop offering people drinks;

None of them were HELPING!

"Can all of you just SHUT UP ALREADY?!" Captain Yami's voice boomed from where he sat. "A man tries to get some much needed rest, and he can't do that because all of you won't stop causing a ruckus! Can't you fight outside like normal people?!"

"But, it's nighttime-"

"YEAH, IT IS NIGHTTIME--SO THAT MEANS ALL OF YOU SHOULD COOL IT DOWN A LITTLE BIT!" he shouted at whoever was trying to talk back to him. He stood up, crushing his cigarette underneath his boot, and stomped out of the room without another word.

It seemed as though he was having a terribly exhausting day, and it wasn't until he literally screamed at everyone that he finally got some pace and quiet. He hated screaming at them like that, but he had reached his limit a while ago. Luckily, for his sake and the rest of the Bulls' sake, his ever-present and perceptive girlfriend, you, knew just how to calm him down.

"Is she seriously going to his room? I get that they're dating and all, but-"

"Noelle, if you want us to live another day, then just let her do her thing."

You ignored whatever Noelle and Vanessa were saying and headed down the hall to where you knew Yami was. The base was always changing in where its rooms were, but you knew exactly where Yami headed off to; nobody could sense his Ki like you could. You tried to keep the sound of your heels hitting the cobblestone floor to a minimum, but there was only so much you could do to prevent them.

When you finally reached his room, you knocked on the door to signal your arrival, and you opened the door. "Who the hell is it?" he asked from over his shoulder.

"It's your girlfriend," you replied. You didn't miss the way his tense shoulders immediately fell when he realized it was you, and you watched as he let out a sigh.

"Why're you here? Weren't you busy reading a book to catch up on your magic studies or whatever?"

"That stuff can wait; my boyfriend's temper can't, though." You locked the door behind you and took slow, careful steps to where Yami was hunched over on the edge of his bed, and you put one hand on his boulder-like shoulder. "You're tense," you remarked.

"Thought it was easy to tell," he huffed.

"Tenser than usual, Suke." The sweet nickname you gave him after he told you you could use his first name never failed to butter him up. "You must've had a really rough day, huh? Rougher than usual?"

"You've got no fucking idea, princess." After your hand worked its magic on his tense shoulder, he pulled you in by your waist and sat you on his lap. "C'mere, I wanna feel you against me," he muttered into your shoulder.

"Anything you need, I'll do for you," you reassured him. Your hand went up to his hair and you started lightly massaging & scratching his scalp, making him sigh into your embrace. His arms tightened around you to secure you to him, then loosened a little to let you breathe. "One of my favorite things in the world is the feeling of your arms around me, Suke."

"Really?" he asked, now looking up at you.

"It sure is," you said with a nod of affirmation. "You touching me in general, it never fails to make me happy."

"I'm glad I do that for you, then." A tiny smile started worming its way to his tense features, and you gave him an even bigger smile. "Hey, princess--are you a witch or something?"

Now, this question made you cock your brow in confusion. "No, not really; I wasn't exactly born in the Witches' Forest."

"You must be, because the way your touch melts me has gotta be some sorta black magic. I mean, seriously--did Vanessa teach you a spell for relaxation?"

"She didn't exactly teach me a spell, per se; she didn't teach me anything about magic. I taught that relaxation spell to myself."

"'N how'd you do that?"

"By devoting some of my time to learning what makes my boyfriend tick or relax," you giggled, making him shake his head in disbelief.

"Really, now? Well, it's working wonders on me, I must say..." he let his words trail off before planting a kiss on the exposed skin of your chest, closing his eyes & inhaling the scent of your sweet vanilla & almond perfume. "I don't deserve you, baby--I really don't," he whispered into your chest.

"'Course you do, Suke, don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "You earned me by being an extra caring and affectionate man to me. Why wouldn't I have fallen for you? You earned my affections all on your own."

He pressed another kiss to your chest before looking up at you. "Would you say I surpassed my limits in doing so?"

You snickered at his little question. "You and your limits... yeah, you did: you surpassed your limits, and it earned you my affections."

"Damn straight, I did." He suddenly grabbed you and fell back onto the bed, making you yelp in surprise. In just the blink of an eye, you were now hovering over him, your silky hair falling onto his muscles and tickling him slightly.

"Suke, what do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cuddling my woman." He rolled you around until he was overtop of you, and he shot you a confident grin. "You sayin' you don't want me to?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then lemme cuddle." He silenced any further protests by pressing his lips to yours, savoring the honey sweet taste of your lips. "Mmm... just what a man needs to calm down..." He let his hands go up your shirt and he rubbed your sides gently, tracing circles on it. Suddenly, his exhaustion kicked in, and he got a slight cramp in his arm, making him buckle and fall to the side. "Shit," he hissed in pain.

"Suke, what's wrong? Are you hurt suddenly?" you looked at him with mild panic, wondering why he suddenly gave out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just got a little cramp. Gimme a sec, and I'll- fuck," the pain resurged, and he clutched his shoulder in pain. "It's worse now..."

You sat up and crawled closer to him, putting him on his back. You looked at the place where his arm cramped, and you touched it gently. "Princess, don't do that, it'll hurt-" he suddenly felt all the pain leave his arm, and he looked at you in amazement. "How did you...?"

You shrugged. "I just pressed a little hard and let your muscles relax. I didn't really give it a second thought."

He looked at his arm and then at you again. "Yeah, scratch that; I really don't deserve you."

"Suke!" you chided him, making him laugh. "Hmm... it must've been from all that stress and tension you've been under--I can feel it all throughout your body. Even when you were kissing me, I could feel your muscles tense."

"Really?" he looked at his arm, then at the rest of his body. He sighed, conceding to your observations. "I guess you're right... I've been so focused on surpassing my limits, I didn't give myself a break."

"Normally, I'd applaud your efforts; but I don't like seeing you in pain because of them." You looked off to the side for a bit, wondering what you could do to make him feel any better. "I know! Since my hands are so good at getting rid of your stress and anxiety, why don't I give you a nice massage?"

"A massage? What, you'd really give this ol' brute a rub and a tug?"

"Well, don't call it that! That sounds kinda weird... Suke, it'll just be a good old fashioned massage--nothing more, nothing less. I don't want you to cramp up again, and I certainly don't wanna see you in any pain. So roll over, big boy, because I'm gonna make you feel heavenly."

"Did you really have to do all of this stuff, princess?" Yami asked as he laid down on the makeshift massage table that you'd set up in the middle of the room. He was currently lying almost completely naked on it (save for the towel covering his penis) with his arms folded behind his head.

"Be quiet and let me take care of you," you quipped, grabbing the massage oils and rubbing your hands with them. You looked over at Yami, your eyes trailing down his muscular body shamelessly.

"Are you gonna do that or just stand there and ogle me?" he asked again, this time with a cocky half-smile.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't be mean to your masseuse." You reached for his arm and unfolded it, and you began with his shoulder. "I could pull you any which way I want, make you cramp even harder."

"Please don't do that," he said, a bit panicked.

You giggled and started massaging his big shoulders & delts. "I'm just messing with you, Suke; I wouldn't wanna injure my captain anymore than he already is."

As your hand started making its way down his chiseled arm, he couldn't stop the grunts of satisfaction that escaped his lips. "Fuck, princess... that feels so good..."

"Why, thank you, handsome." You continued to massage his entire arm until you got to his hand, and you even massaged his fingers. Within just a few short minutes & touches, his arm was already feeling quite at ease.

The more you massaged him, the more grunts & groans & even whimpers that he let out. You missed not a single spot on his body, from his chiseled abs to his calves. "Fuuuuck, princess," he groaned especially deeply into the pillow, "keep it up... goddamn--your hands are a godsend."

He wasn't the only one who was deriving satisfaction from this massage; you got to touch and feel every single muscle on your boyfriend's impressive body, and that alone was enough payment. He truly had some amazing muscles, possibly the best in all of Clover. 'His biceps are bigger than my head... and his thighs are so thick--I bet he could crush a watermelon with them!' you giggled to yourself.

"Is there something funny?"

"No, not at all." You turned him on his belly, and that was when the real fun began. Pecs and abs were some amazing muscles, yes, but the back was where the glory laid. His back muscles, although quite tensed, were nothing short of incredible! He had such a wide, tapered back, and each inch of it was covered in thick muscles that he'd acquired over the years. 'I know I'm dating the man, but seeing his back never gets old!'

"Heh, like what you see, princess?" he asked from over his shoulder. He knew that you were ogling his back right now, and that little piece of satisfaction, of knowing that his girl was a huge fan of his muscles gave him all the confidence he'd need for the week.

"Yeah, I do." Your hand sunk into his upper back and started steamrolling all the kinks and tension out of his muscles, and it was like going to heaven. The upper back was where a lot of tension was held in the human body...

And yet, despite all that tension accumulated, you still got rid of it just like that.

"Fuckkk... fuck, fuck, fuck- fucking, fuck!" he laughed into his pillow, feeling like a new man already.

"Wow, am I really that good?"

"Do I even have to answer that?"

You giggled in response and instead continued on the man's back. Once the big knots were out of his body, you went to his traps, his triceps--even his butt--the backs of his thighs, as well as his calves. Not a single spot was missed by your watchful eye, and not a shred of stress remained in the man. Not only that, but he was also soft and smooth from the massage oils.

"And... there we go! Should all be done. Is there anything I missed?" you asked as he sat up.

"Nah, you didn't miss a thing, princess." He reached out and pulled you in by the shoulders, pressing a deep kiss to your forehead. "I know I don't hand out praise often, but you're my girlfriend, and you did this for me without any strings attached."

"Is someone finally saying thank you?" you giggled.

"Be quiet before I change my mind, brat. Anyway, thanks for that. It meant a lot to me that you were willing to take such good care of my body."

"Suke, someone had to do it. Your body were practically screaming in agony--I could sense your Ki from a good distance away. You snapping at everyone only solidified that notion."

"Shit, about that..." he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "You think they'll mind?"

"Nah; they'll understand, Suke. You were under a lot of stress. If anything, you deserved it, especially since they just wouldn't shut up," you said, making him laugh.

"I knew you'd take my side."

"I usually do," you sighed, retracting from his arm.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked suddenly. You turned around, only to see him reaching out for you. "I wanted to cuddle with you..."

"We can cuddle when you're not all oily and naked," you scoffed, throwing him a towel. He dried himself off, then you threw a change of clothes at him, and changed into some yourself.

"But I thought you liked seeing me naked?"

"There's a time and place for everything, Suke." After putting all of that stuff on and brushing out your hair, you eagerly jumped into your boyfriend's bed and arms.

"Now, this is more like it," he said as he pulled you in for some much needed cuddles. "I'm all relaxed and ready for bed with my beautiful girlfriend in my arms. What more could a man need?"

"Maybe some sleep?" you asked, making him dig his knuckle into your head. The two of you blew out the lamp, and he snuggled up to you, his arms & legs entangled with yours.

"I appreciate everything that you do for me, (Y/N)," he murmured into your ear. You knew it was serious when he used your first name & not his "princess" pet name.

"I appreciate that you appreciate my efforts," you hummed, looking at him. The Yami that everyone else knew and the Sukehiro that you knew were like two completely different people. Yami was the fierce warrior, proud of where he came from; and Sukehiro was the gentle giant who treated you with the utmost care. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the crop who needed your sunshine. If he ever lost you, then there'd be hell to pay for whoever was involved.

"I'll always appreciate everything you do for me, princess, even if it's something as simple as cuddling up to me." He closed his eyes and allowed himself to finally relax, hugging your smaller frame tightly. "Goodnight, princess."

"Goodnight, Sukehiro."

HELP WHY WAS TOJI'S 3.7K WORDS also I'm editing this later, I just wanted to get the first draft out since this took FOREVER to write

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leewritestoomuch · 8 months ago

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I've been so obsessed with Rock Lee for the last few months after getting into Naruto and I'm so glad someone's taking requests for my favourite ninja! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see you write Rock Lee helping reader stretch before a work out but since reader isn't really flexible or is just not all that active, they make a lot of, ahem, suggestive noises while stretching. Love your work, can't wait to see more!!

Rock Lee Helping Reader Stretch

Warnings: Suggestive, borderline NSFW. It’s implied.

Basically: You make noises while stretching that Rock Lee’s horny brain can’t ignore.

Recently, your joints and muscles have been killing you. Maybe your half ass stretching routine wasn’t doing the trick, you figured. Even though you knew change had to happen, you just didn’t know how to stretch your muscles out properly for the extensive training you do with Lee.

Usually he shows up earlier than you, so you don’t see him stretching, but you know he’s keen on making sure he stretches properly so he’s probably stretching for a while beforehand. So you decide to show up 40 minutes before you usually would, seeing him just now setting up to stretch and warmup.

He’d clearly been out jogging prior to this. And in your mind, you know he’s done a runners stretch so isn’t that enough? Why does he need to stretch again? (Him and Gai would both scream at you for this way of thinking)

“Hi Lee.” You greet him with a small smile, already exhausted from the training you haven’t even started just by looking at his energetic, muscular self. Somewhere in your mind, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re winded from the walk to the training grounds, and that Lee is not the reason your breath catches in your throat.

You’ve seen him like this for so long, I mean, you’re on the same team as him now. The only 4 person squad, 5 if you count Gai sensei. You’re so close to all of them, and that’s been normal. Perfectly normal. But recently, your eyes linger on Lee just a little too long.

“Oh hey y/n! I didn’t see you there!” He smiles, the white of his teeth flashing at you in the sun line. Sometimes you wonder how he’s so positive, but then again, you don’t mind it so much anymore. He literally glows though, you swear on it.

“Can I ask you a favor?” You ask, suddenly a little nervous. Your palms are sweating. You try to ignore that.

“Of course! What is it that you want to ask?” He asks, enthusiastically. His smile is almost infectious.

“My joints and muscles ‘n shit are killing me. Can you help me stretch? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” You move your neck like you’re trying to get out a knot or something.

Lee agrees, and decides to start simple. He has you put your arms behind your back, your hands joined together, and tells you to stretch them back as far as you can. Then do the same with the front.

After that, he has you do a similar thing with your hands joined over your head before moving down to the ground to stretch out your upper body best. Then your shoulders, elbows, and neck all separately. Then he has you get on the ground to stretch out your back.

And maybe he didn’t think too much about the position, but have you stretch your back up and lower yourself down also meant your ass was up in the air as you arched your back. You realize how embarassing the position is, and what you don’t notice is the way his cheeks flush and he pries his eyes away from your body.

“U-uh great! Let’s do legs!” He says rather quickly, helping you to get into as low of a splits position that you can, before having you lean forward. To get the best stretch, he pushes down on your body a tiny bit. And before you can stop yourself, you let out a moan.

His hands still against your back, and your eyes go wide as you freeze too. Soon you feel him move away, telling you to switch sides. And he repeats the same thing on this side. Much to your disdain, an even louder moan accidentally slips from your mouth. Curse yourself for not being able to be quiet at a time like this.

When you finally sit back up, he’s staring at you. You can’t help but gulp down any salvia you had in your mouth. Then you notice the way his hands are covering the front of his pants. When he notices where your eyes shifted, his blush intensifies and he starts stammering.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean— you were just—“ you cut his rambling off with a kiss, crawling over closer to him. You situate yourself on his lap, his hands darting out for your hips. The kiss doesn’t break until you’re both desperate for more air than you can get with your mouths connected. Before your mutual panting even halts, he smashes his lips back onto your desperately. And at this point, he’s boldly getting handsy.

You can feel the desperation and lust through his finger tips and they find their way around your body. Any curve, dip, anything, he feels for it. And soon he’s laying back on the grass, panting as a string of saliva connects the both of you even as you part.

The look in his eyes told you that what was about to happen at these training grounds should not happen at the training grounds. Your eyes told him you didn’t care the least about that, however.

#rock lee x reader #rock lee smut #Lee x reader #Naruto x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden #rock lee naruto #naruto rock lee #naruto lee #naruto Shippuden Lee #rock lee shippuden #rock lee x you #rock lee #Naruto smut

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cat3ch1sm · 9 months ago

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💚~ hi!! this is my first fic in so long, im so sorry for disappearing for almost two months ... idk I've been at a loss for motivation for a while. happy new years i guess😭. but it's a story based off of @a-hazbin-reader recent headcanons about alastor (first hazbin hotel writing!! exciting !!) i happened to come across it and immediately saw a fic idea finally. all credits to them and the person who requested the original writing (hope they see this too lololol) !!! also yes my anime writings will also return so yayy im officially back!!

heads up this is super long it's like 15 pages cause ya girl got a little carried away 😅 i hope you all enjoy and reqs are open for all!

🌲❦(๑˙❥˙๑)~ mentions of violence , abuse, bit of blood, alcohol, language, lewd language a little bit at the start, fem!reader

alastor x fem!reader

"Angel. Are you able to draw absolutely anything else?"

The aforementioned spider demon stared straight at Charlie with his brow arched and a shit-eating smirk on his lips. Beside his face he haughtily held up a sheet of paper with one of four hands, a drawing depicting nothing other than a giant penis.

"Nope." He popped the "p."

The hotel residents and employees, including Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, you, and Alastor were doing Charlie's usual scheduled feel-good activity. The devil's daughter had given out paper and pencils, gathered everyone in a circle and told everyone to draw something that made them happy. And of course Angel Dust, lewd as always, had spent a frankly concerning amount of time drawing the member currently on display on his paper.

Everyone just stared at the drawing in silence. Examining it while Angel continued to hold it up with not an ounce of shame on his face.

"Why is it... anatomically correct?" you finally questioned, tilting your head and squinting at the piece.

Vaggie, sitting beside her girlfriend, let out an exasperated groan, looking from the drawing to Angel with undisguised revulsion. "Angel Dust. First you drew pills, then you drew a liquor bottle, and for the last three goddamn turns we've given you, you've drawn a dick. Come on. Are you even trying-"

"Whadd'ya mean?" Angel asked innocently. "Charlie said to draw somethin' that makes me happy. Dicks make me happy. And as a worker here, you shouldn't be judgin' me," the porn star added smugly, making Vaggie let out an impatient growl.

Business as usual in the Hazbin Hotel.

"Well, I mean, you can't really say he didn't try," Husk deadpanned in a gravelly voice. "I mean, look at the vein-"

Ding dong!

"Oh, wow, hey, someone's at the door!" You'd never seen anyone move as fast as Charlie in that moment, and Vaggie was in close pursuit. In a split second, Nifty's tiny frame was flying after them both.

"Someone's at the door!" Nifty repeated in a high-pitched voice.

"Right. While they're distracted, I need a damn dick- fuck. Drink," Husk snapped, rising from his place on the floor. Angel immediately started laughing while Husk wasted no time lighting into him. "Shut up. You and your fucking anatomically correct dick got into my head," you could hear Husk snarl while Angel's taunting laughs never ceased as they headed off to the bar.

With those two gone, it was just you sitting in the circle, blinking. "Right," you murmured, standing up and dusting yourself off.

"Well, my dear? What did you draw?" came the oh-so-familiar drone of the Radio Demon's voice from the corner of the room. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips at the sound of it, and glanced up to see Alastor standing with his trusty mic stand, beckoning you to come closer. Of course, you obliged.

You scoffed a little, smile turned slightly sarcastic. "Well... I was going to draw you, but Angel suddenly became the Picasso of Penises and I didn't get around to it."

Alastor laughed good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around your waist and planting a gentle kiss on your head. "Ah, always the sentimental one, aren't you, my dear? Well, no matter. It's the thought that counts."

Your smile turned genuine again at his gesture and Alastor noticed. "There's that smile, sweetheart. Now, if you'd just keep it on your face at all times without fail, we could be quite the formidable pair."

You kissed your teeth with mock exasperation and lightly shoved Alastor away. "Oh, here you go again. And I thought we were having a moment. Alastor, my face just cannot stay like yours for that long-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Charlie came rushing back into the room, her sudden entrance startling you a little. She made her way up to you and Alastor. "Hey, um, Y/N? There's a woman at the door who says she's looking for you. She seems really upset."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. Someone looking for you? You weren't friends with anyone really outside the Hotel and those affiliated with it, so you had no clue who would be searching for you. You glanced at Charlie with a "What's going on?" look and with some reluctance pulled away from your boyfriend's grip to follow her.

As you neared the lobby, you heard a distressed-sounding voice in the door, and confusion growing you walked a little faster to the entrance. But before you could even register who the visitor was, she'd thrown her arms around you, fingernails digging painfully into your skin. But the stench of her familiar perfume wafting unwelcomed into your nose, into your mouth, smothering you and strangling you let you know the identity of this woman without even having to see her face.

You instantly stiffened, limbs suddenly like metal rods, not at all softening into her embrace. Your eyes went wide and you could feel your pulse speeding up.

"Mother?"

"My love! Oh, my precious girl!" she cried, pulling out of that suffocating hug for a moment to cup your cheeks in her cold hands, hands that no matter how gently they touched you their touch would always sting. She peered into your eyes with watery ones of her own, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I missed you so, my dear. This is where you've been hiding? I was so dreadfully worried!" Her eyes, always scrutinizing, ran up and down your figure in the way that made you want to tear the flesh from your bones.

"Oh, and I was worried you were starving somewhere. You were such a frail, skinny thing before on Earth. It's a great relief to see you've put some weight on your bones."

And the first stone was thrown.

"Mother." It was the only word you could seem to utter, fighting the urge to throw up, bile collecting in your throat. Her voice was like a slap to the face, and it was only your mother's grip that kept you from actually staggering backward. And how the others were just staring, awed, at the scene, Charlie's eyes sparkling with tears, Vaggie with a hand on her shoulder and a knowing smile, Angel and Husk watching contentedly from a distance, and Nifty clinging to Alastor who was smiling as usual. God, if you didn't vomit right fucking now, you'd be surprised. But you knew what they all saw in their clouded vision- a heartfelt reunion between mother and daughter. But really? It more closely resembled a predator at last capturing its prey.

You really couldn't hear what she was saying over the pounding in your head, but somehow you were in her arms again, and she was fawning and cooing over you like you were a child, showering you with kisses that burned like molten iron and rocking you back and forth. Always she loved to put on a show, loved being the center of attention.

It made you sick.

You managed to come out of your stupor long enough to shove your wailing mother away, unfazed by her crocodile tears. It was like waking up from a haze. She stumbled back slightly, and you backed away, your entire demeanor hardening. Your tone was flat when you spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

You apparently weren't doing that clean a job of masking your emotions, because the venom in your voice caught even you off guard. Your mother looked hurt- that act wasn't new to you, either- and your friends and partner surrounding you shot you disapproving and mildly disgusted looks that clearly wondered why you were being so cold to your own mother. You dropped your eyes to avoid the accusing stares, unable to slow your breathing and fighting the desire to lash out. Charlie looked bewildered and hurt, Angel Dust arched a brow, Husk appeared disapproving and Vaggie’s venomous expression said everything she wanted it to. How dare they look at you like you were the bad guy without knowing shit! She couldn't care less if you lived or died. She was here because she wanted something, and nothing more. Perhaps she heard about your role in the extermination of the Extermination and wanted a piece of the popularity you'd recently found yourself gaining. Or she came because she was probably destitute, the frivolous bitch, and wanted to suck up to either you or the powerful people you were now associated with. Whatever it was, you didn't care. You wanted her gone.

But it was clear she had no intention of leaving.

"All this time, and not one visit. And she never calls," your mother moaned in anguish, now addressing her new audience. "Perhaps I wouldn't have to track you down like a bloodhound if you would just come see your poor mother every once in a while." Her voice was overflowing with hurt and heartbreak you just could feel wasn't genuine. Before you knew it, she had broken down into sobs again, and you could only stand there stiffly, rage boiling, while the always empathetic Charlie moved to comfort the woman, rubbing her back soothingly while she sent Nifty off to get her tissues for her tears. The dirty look Vaggie shot you- "How cruel of you to do this to your innocent mother,” it said- sent heat rushing straight to your chest. Jesus fucking Christ, how could they fall for this shit? Your stomach twisted again, and this time you actually did nearly puke, suppressing a dry heave.

You did not pay any mind to your mother's display- you refused to give her the satisfaction. You turned in the opposite direction, arms folded, nails digging into your skin hard. You felt nothing seeing her cry but bitterness and icy detachment.

"I don't want to see you-"

"Well, now- who do we have here?"

Alastor appeared from the shadows with his sharp-toothed grin, glancing at you first and then your weeping mother. Before you could stifle it, a rush of hope surged through you- if anybody could get this infernal woman to leave, it would be Alastor. You turned towards him, hoping he would see how distressed you were- he was typically fairly perceptive when it came to you and your feelings. But alas, your mother caught his attention first, peering up at the Radio Demon standing over her with teary eyes and wet cheeks, a piteous expression on her face.

"The Radio Demon? Oh, well, a being like you mustn't worry about who I am. I'm just- a poor mother come to visit her daughter. But she... doesn't seem to want to see me." She sighed in a melancholy manner and slowly unburied her face from the tissue she'd been holding. "I suppose I will simply see myself out."

"Oh, nonsense. Y/N's mother, are you? I absolutely cannot allow you to remain on the streets. I insist that you stay." Alastor extended a hand out to your mother, his maniacal smile gone suspiciously gentle. It was disgustingly familiar; it was the smile he reserved normally just for you. "As... abrasive as your daughter may seem at the moment"- you felt him cast a look over at your back turned to him- "I'm sure she wouldn't want you suffering like this. Please, you're welcome to remain here."

You wanted to cry when he said this- could he really not see who this woman was? Did he really think you were just being testy? And when your mother took his hand and held it for much too long, you could take it no longer. And as everyone crowded your mother, showering her with welcomes and greetings and kindness, you pushed past everybody and walked straight out of the hotel doors, the last thing you saw being the tauntingly smug smirk on your mother's face before you slammed the doors behind you.

When you returned to the hotel, drunk, night had fallen. You hadn't seen any of your hotel mates since you'd left, and as far as you knew nobody went after you after your abrupt exit. Who the hell cared about that now, though? You'd talk to them about your deranged mother when you got inside, without her presence. Perhaps Alastor had just been being nice when he told her she could stay, and they hadn't actually been blind to why you were acting the way you were. Maybe they were just being supportive of a guest when they saw you acting out of the ordinary, knowing you usually were never snappy and stony, and still took her side. Maybe so.

You wished you hadn't had so much to drink.The pounding in your head was worse than when your mother had shown up earlier and your eyelids felt heavy. You had tripped a minimum of ten times on the way back and almost let two thugs take you in their car with them. You hated being drunk, but your mother you hated more.

With unsteady hands you pushed open the doors of the Hazbin Hotel, vision blurring a little. You weren't amazing with alcohol, and again, being drunk wasn't your favorite thing. But the moment you entered, you realized you weren't nearly drunk enough.

In the lobby sat your boyfriend, Alastor, enjoying a cup of tea with none other than your mother. The two were laughing together, which incensed you enough, but what made you wish you'd just blacked out at that bar was when you caught sight of your mother's hand on top of Alastor's as they shared a laugh over God knows what.

It didn't take long for the two to notice you in the doorway, a turbulent, unreadable expression on your face, standing as still as a statue as you took in the scene. Your mother turned to you and smiled, waving the hand with the cup of tea in it.

"Why, darling, we hadn't realized you left! Alastor is quite a charming gentleman. We were just having a moment." She slipped her hand from on top of his with a slightly mischievous smile.

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. You had no fucking clue how, but somehow your mother had discovered that Alastor and you were an item. She wasn't sitting here with anyone else but Alastor, drinking tea with him, laughing with him, holding his hand. And she was wearing makeup she hadn’t had on when she’d first come in the hotel- red painted on her lips, blush dotted on her cheeks and glitter on her eyelids in a display clearly meant to make an impression on Alastor and Alastor alone. It wouldn’t be the first time she'd gone after one of your partners, but it angered you no less- it was like the woman wanted to take your place somehow.

Alastor turned to you as well with a smile, but when he saw the look in your eyes, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. However, he made no comment at your slightly disheveled appearance and picked up his expression once more.

“Why, hello, my dear. Your lovely mother was just telling me about her life before you,” Alastor enthused. “A lively woman she was! I’ve heard story after exciting story. Quite a wild one, indeed- rather unlike you, sweetheart.”

You gave Alastor what could only be described as what is called ‘the thousand-yard stare,’ expression flat, not knowing really what to say to that. Despite the fact that you were in a bit of a daze still, either from the alcohol or the fact that your mother was on a date with your boyfriend, the haughty, self-superior expression on your mother’s face was not lost on you. Nor were the cow eyes she was giving him, or how when Alastor reached for the teapot to refill his cup her hand was conveniently already on the dish, lingering beneath his for what felt like hours.

She turned to Alastor, looking up at him with that sickly sweet, beaming grin of hers that she always plastered on her face when she was really about to lay it on. “I’m still wild if you ever care to find out,” she purred, batting her lashes at Alastor with an unmistakable air of seduction.

Before you could even register it, you heard yourself saying, “Get out.”

Both your mother and Alastor turned to face you, your mother’s face having dropped and Alastor’s eyes piercing into yours.

“What?” your mother asked, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. You truly saw red for a moment, knowing damn well those tears were as false as Angel’s lashes, and the twitching in your muscles to just lash out was almost painfully difficult to stifle. Alastor’s smile wavered a little as his eyes darted from you to your blubbering mother, who had already started her shit.

You advanced forward, your stride making your mother jump and Alastor stand, and without hesitation tore her hand from Alastor’s, yanking her arm with force that momentarily startled even you. She was pulled from her chair and forced to stand up.

Her voice full of anguish, she pleaded, “Baby girl, what did I do wrong?” However, unmoved by her over-the-top performance, you’d already started dragging her out, not bothering to respond to her or explain why you were throwing her out. She already knew; you could see past the tears and wails and her struggles to pull away from you. Fueled by fury, distress and the afterbuzz of the alcohol, you hauled your protesting mother out of the hotel, pitilessly leaving her outside in the dark, and forcefully slammed the doors behind her. There were muffled screams of your name coming from the other side, her fists pounding on the door, but after a bit they faded away.

The moment she was gone you instantly felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest, slumping against the door with a breath of exertion and relief. But that relief quickly dissipated when you locked eyes with Alastor, who was advancing on you, his smile obviously strained. The way he spat your name at you made you shrink back slightly, realizing that he was actually not pleased.

“You cannot just throw your own mother out like that. Into the streets? My dear, that is no way to treat your mother. And frankly, it’s rude.”

You felt anger rising once more, but you didn’t want to start anything with Alastor despite the fact that he had no idea what he was talking about. Of course it looked simply like bad etiquette from his standpoint; he had no idea who your mother was. And somehow you didn’t feel it was proper to tell him- you knew how much he valued his own mother and mothers in general, and as sweet as you had always thought that was, you knew he and his rosy view of maternal relationships wouldn’t understand and perhaps not allow for your turbulent relationship with your own mother. And you didn’t want to be the one to tarnish his otherwise endearing perspective by explaining how abhorrent of a person your mother was. So despite how much you just wanted to scream at him, to tell him he had no clue what was really going on, you kept your composure, inhaling shakily.

“Alastor, please. You- you don’t know what you’re talking about. So just stay out of it, alright?”

“She’s your mother, not the devil, dear.” Alastor’s tone was back to normal, and he was speaking in his usual radio voice as if he was talking to just anyone, and it made your stomach churn.

“She’s not innocent, Alastor, she’s in Hell-”

“Ah, but so are you and I, sweetheart.”

Your face crumpled, and you found yourself coming up short for a rebuttal. Before you could stop them, tears started to well in your eyes, frustrated that you couldn’t get through to him. Out of spite and pride, you blinked them back harshly. Alastor tilted his head and started to come towards you, his mic stand clacking on the ground as he walked, and for a moment you felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that he truly wanted to talk and get to the bottom of your animosity towards your mother.

But the Radio Demon breezed right past you and, before you could stop him, opened the door, and your mother whom you’d thought had given up at last and left waltzed right back in, suddenly no longer the aggrieved mother you’d thrown out and back to beaming a mile a minute. The self-assured smirk she sent your way had your blood boiling with rage, and you felt powerless to act. You wanted to slap that smirk off of her face, but why wouldn’t she smirk? She had Alastor exactly where she wanted him, and both of you knew it.

“I apologize sincerely for the earlier… incident,” Alastor told your mother with a note olf sympathy in his voice, and again he took her hand; you had to tear your eyes away, back to the scene.

“Aren’t you charming!” your mother exclaimed, voice pleasant and upbeat. ‘Don’t even think of it, I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re too kind, miss. But in order to make up for it, I’d like to offer you to spend the night. I would hate to send a lovely woman such as yourself out on the streets of Hell after sundown. I implore you.”

Fucking Christ. You didn’t even have to see her to know the way she was grinning at you. Your shoulders tensed, rising to your ears, and the tears burned hot in your eyes. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you bit your inner cheek hard enough to draw blood so as to not make the slightest sound alerting her to your tears.

“What a kind invitation. It’s nice to know at least somebody wants me here.” An icy silence from you. “It’d be rather rude not to accept; I would be happy to spend the night.”

“Lovely!” Alastor praised.

You couldn’t take any more. Unable to stifle your sobs, hot tears falling down your cheeks, you tossed back a cracked “I’m going to bed,” and stormed out of the lobby with your head down, rushing upstairs as fast as you could and ignoring Alastor’s calls of your name. Just as you slammed the door to your room, you heard your mother say, “Oh, don’t worry about her. Let her cool off for a bit, and then I’ll go after her. A mother always knows how to cheer up her child.”

It was quiet now. Hours ago Angel Dust had returned from his work and Charlie and Vaggie had locked up for the night. Nifty had been, though with much effort, put to bed by Husk who had then closed up the bar and retired himself. You didn’t know where your mother or Alastor were, and you didn’t want to.

You were the only one up now, and you had finally run out of tears. Your head was stuffy, your eyes were sore and bloodshot, and you could feel the beginnings of a hangover coming on. It felt like days you’d spent just crying in your bed, unable to suppress the emotion you’d felt since your mother reappeared that morning. Charlie had actually come to check on you earlier, worried, along with Vaggie, but Alastor had told them to let you be for now. You’d heard their muffled conversation from outside your door.

You just wished Alastor would understand, that they all would understand. Your mother wasn’t a mother. She didn’t nurture, she didn’t love, all she did was belittle you, bully you, and take from you. Yet never once had you been able to figure out what you’d ever done to her. You had tried so hard to help and to please her as a living child, then teenager, then adult- tending to your siblings when she was out on the town, working multiple jobs to take care of the house while she spent the day blackout drunk and the nights in the city, and still desperately believing she would change, you sent her portions of your salary when you grew older and begged her to utilize the money, but she always blew it on material shit. And as if it wasn’t enough that you had to be the mother to yourself and your siblings, she beat you too, mostly when she was drunk but sometimes you felt it was just for her amusement or to make you feel small and worthless. As a teenager she did nothing but sabotage you- you couldn’t ever have friends over because she was always passed out on the couch or acting erratic and stinking of cheap liquor, and you had to fight like hell to get your siblings out of there after you left home for school. And yet you had still had hope for her.

That all changed when you came to Hell. It was the end of the road for real now, and you figured there was no point trying to reconcile with your mother anymore. So you’d left her in the past, thinking it was over, finally allowing yourself a little peace. But you hadn’t realized the extent of the resent you’d been harboring until she showed up at the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel. All those feelings just came rushing back.

Another hour or so passed and your swollen eyes were dried out and heavy-lidded. Exhausted from fretting about your mother and regretting the amount you'd had to drink, you turned over in your bed with a stifled groan and closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would finally find you and you could escape the events of the day at least for a little while. But just as you were drifting off, you were startled by the sound of your bedroom door opening.

You let out a moan that was half confusion and half sleepiness, and rolled over just a little to glance at the door through hazy eyes. “Alastor?” you mumbled questioningly, rubbing your eyes groggily.

But the voice that responded woke you right up.

“Not a chance, pet.”

You sat up instantly, knocking the bedcovers off. In the doorway, a shadowy silhouette in the dimly lit hallway, was your mother. A discordant note of exasperation sounded in your head; the woman couldn't let you be even at this hour? For the moment at least, you were more mildly annoyed than pissed like you were earlier, just wondering what in the hell she could possibly want now.

“Why are you even-”

You cut yourself off and immediately jumped out of the bed just as your mother lunged at you like a pouncing tigress; you'd sensed the attack in the way she had been moving and acted accordingly before she could maul you. It didn't mean it didn't still catch you off guard, though.

Your voice rising, you snapped, “What the hell are you-”

Again you were interrupted when she sprung off the bed and snatched your wrists in her iron grip before you could dodge again; her clasp was tight and bruising and you winced painfully. You caught a glimpse of her eyes in the faint light, and they were inflamed, wild with fury she'd probably been suppressing this whole time. It wasn't a new expression.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she snarled, voice trembling with fury.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you demanded, tearing your wrists from her grasp and moving a distance away from her so she was on one side of the bed and you were on the other. By the bewildered look on her face, she was clearly not expecting you to break away so effortlessly; maybe thinking she could just abuse you like she did when you were a defenseless child.

Like hell.

“What the hell are you even mad at me for?”

Your mother, seething, launched more accusations at you. “You think you're better than me, now, is it? Saw your sorry ass on the news after that damn Extermination rebellion. Bet it took your ego up a few notches killing those Exorcists, huh? And now that you're in some fancy hotel, dating some powerful boytoy and hiding behind hell's princess, you think you can just get rid of me?”

“Apparently fucking not, because here you are. And I'm not hiding. I'm trying to get away from you.”

Your mother let out a bitter, droll laugh. “Oh, you think that's how this works?” she hissed in an icy manner, and even though you were already a good distance away you backed up further still. “Think again, whore. I'm the one who deserves to be here, not some ungrateful little cunt who just happened to fall out of me. If I have to live destitute in the back alleys of Hell, so do you.”

The heartless insults and vulgarities she hurled your way would have shattered the living version of you. But it was about time your mother learned that you were no longer the pleading daughter you’d been on Earth, and instead of piercing your heart the names merely bounced off of you.

“You might recall I spent my whole damn life trying to help you,” you answered with equal coldness. “And for nothing, too, because here the hell we both are. Don't blame me because you turned out to be the nothing you always were.”

Without warning, she lunged at you, rushing forward like a charging bull, and though you tried to dodge she managed to snatch a handful of your hair and slam your head into the wall. You let out a cry of shock and pain and spots exploded in front of your vision before you reached up, tore her hand from your head and shoved her forward. You advanced again, teeth bared and fists balled, unwilling to let her get up- but before you could swing, there was a crackle in the air- and what followed was a cacophony of static, crackling, and microphone feedback that would've deafened an elephant. But the sound wasn't new to you, and you weren't surprised in the least when you lifted your eyes to see Alastor, smile maniacal and glowing red eyes wild as he entered the room. The sudden explosion of sound made your mother flinch and clap her hands over her ears, and seeing your opening, you kicked her to the ground; her head hit the wall rather roughly and she lost consciousness, her body going limp. You were breathing heavily, staring at her body sprawled on the ground without pity.

Alastor's eyes lost their luminescence and his smile softened; and he came over to you, attempting to touch you, but you shied away. You weren't necessarily ready to forgive him; if he'd just done a little more pushing and hadn't invited your mother here with you, this could have been avoided. You dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” Alastor offered in a voice that was sufficiently staticky. “I wasn't too kind to you today.”

You wanted to say, no shit, but held your tongue, back to him still. Feelings of resent still swirled within you, but admittedly, hearing his apology did make them dissipate a little.

“Why is it you didn't simply tell me she was like this?”

Now you were silent not out of spite but more because…you simply didn't know what to say? Where were you to even begin? How would you explain that you didn't want to somehow tarnish his view of mothers by explaining your history with your own? And that you didn't want him to feel guilty about having a good relationship with his mother while yours was knocked out on the floor in front of you? And that you didn't want him to lose his love of mothers because you were unfortunate enough to have a shitty one?

Somehow you managed to splutter all of that into something coherent, because Alastor gathered you in his arms without waiting for your approval, which you didn't mind, finally feeling somewhat okay since your mother had first shown up. You felt his hands in your hair, taming the out of place strands, and he lifted your wrists to his eyes, tutting in disapproval when he saw the bruises beginning to form. He settled for wordlessly kissing the deepening marks gently, but when he spotted the gash on your head where your mother had slammed you into the wall, his smile turned positively venomous. His head did a full 180 on his neck, which always made you cringe, to glare at your groggily awakening mother, who froze in her position on the floor when she caught his alarming gaze.

Alastor turned back to you, static popping in the air, and his smile grew- if that was even possible. “Well, sweetheart? What would you like me to do with her?”

You were frankly tired now of fighting your mother, who had staggered from the ground, rage still evident in her visage but with Alastor present she wasn’t about to act. So with a weary sigh, slumping into Alastor’s chest, you muttered, “I just want her gone.”

“Anything you wish.” And within the next few minutes, Alastor had summoned Nifty, who was more than eager to take out the trash, and had the tiny janitor drag your mother from your room by her hair. You lost sight of the two after they left, but by the way Nifty was giggling the entire time she was hauling your mother, you had a feeling the next several hours wouldn’t be too enjoyable for her.

You’d been on edge the whole day, but you didn’t quite realize the sheer amount of tension your mother’s presence had placed on you until it was only you and Alastor inside the room. His hand traced soothing circles around your back, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

The morning, after what seemed like centuries, finally did arrive. You were already up although day had barely broken, and that was because the earlier commotion had disturbed the hotel residents and they had literally gotten you and Alastor (who had evidently felt bad enough to spend the rest of the night with you, which he didn’t often do for posterity reasons, kissing the side of your head where it was wounded and apologizing once more) up out of bed to barrage you both with an onslaught of questions (and Nifty remaining suspiciously silent save the occasional maniacal giggle). With some reluctance you gave the group a brief explanation of everything that had gone down, Alastor standing beside you with a protective hand on your shoulder. Long story short, everyone basically grasped that they’d fucked up by allowing your mother in and judging you harshly about it, and before long Charlie was in tears and begging for you to forgive her, Vaggie had admitted her remorse over it, Angel Dust was shifty-eyed and sheepish, and Husk apologized to you formally. You dismissed the apologies with a grateful look, and that seemed to satisfy them all except Charlie, who you had to tell straight out you truly did forgive her at least five times and that only set her off bawling again to the point Vaggie had to carry the girl out.

Alastor, although one couldn’t tell by his face, apparently did feel guilty about his involvement in the whole fiasco because he took you out for breakfast and spent the rest of the day with you, and by the time night fell once more your cheeks hurt from smiling so much and your spirits were significantly lifted. It wasn’t until the two of you were in bed together (again, your lucky day, you didn’t even have to convince him) that he broke the long, contented silence you two had been sharing to inform you curtly:

“You didn’t ruin my opinion of mothers, you know.”

You sat up at this, eyes wide with hope and relief. He rose along with you to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t?”

“Oh, no. My dear, I love my own mother dearly, but don’t think I’m not aware that others may not have the same relationship with their own mothers. I did admire your resilience, though, and though it really wasn’t necessary, I do appreciate your attempt to spare my feelings. If I do say so myself”- his hand came to rest on your lower belly- “you seem like you’d make quite a stellar mother yourself.”

“Alastor.”

“Merely a thought.”

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin angel dust #alastor #alastor x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel headcanons #vivziepop #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #Reader x alastor #alastor x female reader

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granolawriting · 1 year ago

Text

"Do you have a boyfriend?" •°. *࿐

pairing: no breakout! Cowboy costume!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your best friend holds a halloween party at her house, where the often brooding Joel you often disregard adorns a new attire that sparks something in you. And he makes it clear he feels the same.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap (college senior and 50 year old), grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he’s the sexiest, porn with lots of plot, p in v, creampie, HEAVY praise, you guys are wearing matching costumes on accident, he fucks you IN costume if you're wondering, nice aftercare, pet names (darling, sweetheart, doll), southern hospitality misconstrued for shyness, sarah is your best friend

word count: 7.4k (holy shit)

masterlist

A/N: christ almighty. This took me all day. it has clouded my mind, overtaken my senses. finishing the final lines of this fic made me feel raw, completly finished. I have never written a fic this long in my entire life I'll be so honest. Anyways, I've been delving so deep into pedro stuff recently that reignighting the Joel adgenda made me quiver at night thinking about it. ANYWAYS. THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!! confetti thrown everywehere.

and in other news, I hope u enjoy the 4th installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 20th with some bondage!Joel.... Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

P.S. The title was made with scream in mind but since I changed up him from wearing a mask to a cowboy because christ how could I not I decided to just keep it as is.

Monotonous noise of worn out wheels against tired linoleum floors squeak softly at the turns of your cart against the rows of aisles that comprised the small store. Dimly lit bulbs illuminated the rows of supplies— plates upon masks upon streamers of different colors and themes overtake your senses as the whole display seems ostentatious and unflattering to you.

“How's this for a Halloween costume?”

A wolf mask hides the face of an otherwise non-furry Sarah Miller. Who seemed to not share the same sentiment as you regarding distaste for the design.

“I don't know, how are you going to drink if you have a mask on your face?”

“Straws exist.”

“I'm not convinced”

She takes it off with melodrama, sullen disdain for your lack of halloween spirit as you push the cart further down the aisle.

A soft squeak of tires indicates a stop in your steps as you stand before a wall of costumes— what you needed more than anything to hold an answer for you.

Eyes tracing up and down the rows floor to ceiling coated with cheaply made, scantily clad costumes makes your vision blur. Until it lands on a single item; one that stood out to you above all else.

“A cowgirl?”

Sarah sounds unimpressed. Eyeing the plastic wrapped costume labeled “ride my rodeo” with a model on the front wearing small red and white plaid tied to her front, small jean shorts cut at most with an inch’s inseam, and a cowboy hat— sold separately.

“It's the best I've got. It's either this, or I repeat last year’s costume.”

“You are not dressing up as Adam Sandler to my party.”

You put the bag in the cart.

Ever since moving to college, your career as a party-goer has been less than prolific, as a freshman assuming that time away from home was means to let yourself go, slowly turned into a reluctant senior year where parties were oftentimes the last thing you wanted to do on a given day. However, as Sarah lived in the area, she at the very least dragged you to her neighborhood functions. Which, was marginally better than what any Greek life could pull together. And as your car pulls into the empty spot within the miller’s lot, you become privy as to why; because you always had to help put it together.

As smooth concrete lays beneath your car while you park, the truck parked beside you was none other than Joel Millers— Sarah's bachelor dad.

Bachelor was an overstatement, a compliment that wasn't quite applicable to him. He wasn't looking for love, a bachelor without a cause, he was purposefully distant. A brood coated his face from eyes to lips that only ever contorted to something positive in the sight of his daughter. A contractor seemingly married to his work he had no means to find love. A part of you wonders when the last time he even had anyone was, romantically or sexually. Or even how he got ahold of one to make Sarah happen in the first place. You could never picture Joel as someone sexually active, if Sarah told you she was immaculately conceived you would have believed her.

The click of boots against concrete greets the Millers doorstep as your cowgirl boots are adorned, the rest of your uncomfortable costume shoved in a bag across your shoulder as means to at least dress the house in comfort before having to walk around in costume for hours on end.

Walking directly in you’re faced with a Mr. Miller, with a similar idea. He wore nothing at all, costume-wise. Something that you wish you could have done, as every year he seems to escape the wrath of Sarah’s demands regarding spirit, to be met with the regular weathered jeans and loose long sleeves. Standing tall upon a stepladder was he already being put to work however, thick fingers pushing small thumbtacks into the open space of his home, orange and black streamers littering the front room as he works.

His head turns to you at the sound of his door being opened and shut,

“Well, what’re you supposed ta’ be?”

His eyes size you up and down, southern drawl brings sound to the quiet of the room, only otherwise broken by soft halloween music traveling its way downstairs from Sarah’s bedroom. If there was one attractive thing about him, it was his accent. The way he would slur his words together, the charming yet teasing air to everything he says. Having moved to Austin 4 years ago you would’ve thought you’d have grown used to it by now, and you have, besides Joel. The age that honeyed his voice like old whisky was unprecedented, and never paralleled by any other man you’d yet to mean in your time there.

“Haven’t put it on yet Mr. Miller. But I can see that your costume is quite the classic.”

“Oh quit it. Now, Sarah asks that you go upstairs when ya’ came in. Bosses orders.”

You give a stern look to him and nod as though you were to be sent on the front lines, and he only gives a small chuckle before returning to his work.

“Oh my god you’re finally here. Look—”

She opens the door in hurried fashion, and quickly centers herself in the middle of the room to do a spin for you. A small gust of wind as she twirled letting her skirt float as she moved to reveal her outfit. Bells and jingles fill the room at the movement of her body.

“Does it look too corny? Can you tell who I am?”

Looking her up and down, large bundles of curly hair hiding a stuffed serpent around her neck as a green top wraps around the back of it, paired with loose bells and metal pieces adorning a small blue skirt with layers of tulle, it was quite obvious who she was meant to be if you were born prior to 2006.

“Britney spears. And you look perfect, but don't you think it’s a little early to try on your costume?”

Her eyes pierce you with only the gaze of a woman who thought you clearly misunderstood what was going on.

“The party is in 2 hours. I've yet to even do my makeup, or take photos before I get wasted. Time is of the essence. Here, put your costume on and help get ready with me.”

Sarah, despite being in the same grade as you, was marginally less mature. Mostly driven by her intelligence boosting her into higher grades when she was younger, she was around 2 years younger than you despite graduating the same year as you. And despite her efforts sometimes her stress levels were purely driven by the fact she was barely 21. Still obsessed and enamored with arguably, menial things. Though through her age, you always attempted to discern her fathers. With grey growing into the roots of his head, speckling his beard as it traced the lines of his jaw, you had ventured to guess he was around 50.

…

Ding Dong

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh—”

“It's okay Sarah, I'll get it.”

Feet scrambling up and out of her bedroom, you quickly find your way to the front door as the clock shone at 7:30, cursing the people who find joy in showing up so early to what is not a dinner party. Dressed in your cowgirl costume do you answer the door, expecting either trick or treaters or an older neighbor, does someone entirely different greet you as it opens.

Joel towers before you within the doorway. He no longer wore the loose fitting shirts and jeans omnipresent on his person, moreover it was swapped for a much more form fitting attire. A cowboy hat for starters, sat upon his head of hair, usually messy and combed back did it now fall in front of his face, sculpting his jaw as it fell to the sides of chocolate eyes. Strands peppered his face as you took him in, a worn cowboy hat that complimented the tan of his skin, equally as sun bleached did it seem almost natural for him to adorn it. Followed by a small toothpick sticking from his lips, did it draw focus to the pink of them, shaped and contrasted by the peppered beard freshly trimmed, longer pieces of hair falling over his top lip to establish a thicker mustache that became the centerpiece of his look. As your eyes trailed down the rest of his body, you’re met with a form fitting tan tuscan button up as his underlayer, slightly unbuttoned at the top to reveal his chest lines do you notice fabric rolled to his elbows to reveal thick hairy forearms that held muscle visible unflexed. Trailing up to see the definition of bicep within the confines of cotton fabric almost bursting at the muscle he carried, only to be met with an overlayer of a dark brown vest seemingly made of corduroy or something similar, tightly buttoned around his waist to accentuate it's contrast to the broadness of his shoulders. The pants worn in tandem with the outfit were a chocolate brown, thick leather-like material clung to his quads as they tapered at the ends of his calves, square toed cowboy boots finding home beneath the heavy fabric of his pants. Around his waist was there a detailed belt, a worn leather belt held up the tie of his pants, and to his hip was a holster, housing a small toy gun that fell to his side as his hip stayed slightly cocked at the entrance. His thumb looped in the side of his pocket as he stood waiting at the front door. The scent of cologne fills your senses as it breeds with his natural scent to produce what was to you somewhat of an aphrodisiac. This was no longer the grumpy old man that wore clothes a size too large because he was too lazy to check the charts, no longer the father of your best friend— in this moment he was nothing but insatiably attractive.

“Oh, Mr. Miller I— don't you have a key?”

Only now do you notice the look he gave you. The equal look of awe as his eyes unabashedly trailed your body and it's curved. Much more revealing than him though equally as hidden from what he wanted. You watched as lips became slightly pursed, taking in the fit of your jeans and the curve of your hips, eyes falling for far too long upon your top and how it complimented you.

He skips a beat.

“Oh— uh, sorry kid. Though Sarah’d be comin’ down. Wanted to show her my outfit. S’ the last halloween we’re gonna have fer a while.”

You feel yourself heat up, his eyes connecting with yours have a whole new meaning to it now. He seemed embarrassed, even, as his eyes darted from side to side, unable to connect with yours for more than a few seconds as he asked for his daughter.

“She's still upstairs getting ready. Do you, do you want me to call her down?”

“No, no that won’t be necessary. ‘Supose I’ll wait fer her inside.”

It takes you a moment to register that as means for entry into his own house as you stood there agape in the center of the doorframe. Though quickly do you move your body to make room for him, as he dips his head to you in thanks before heavy boots hit the wooden floors of the downstairs in his entry.

The tension that builds within the room is deafening as you both stand there in silence. Unable to remove yourself from his proximity does the air fill with feelings foreign and impure.

“That’s a um, nice costume ya’ got there.”

Joel breaks the silence with soft spoken words as he begins to pour a drink in the kitchen. Though not looking at you, the image of you within his mind pierced the darkest parts of his consciousness with glaring extremity as he felt himself grow hot in so many layers.

“This? Oh, Sarah, she made me do it. But uh, I really like yours as well. It, it suits you well. And we’re matching, that's funny.”

This was your poor attempt at flirting with a mind so foggy with memories completely turned on their head as your perception of Joel did that same.

“WHO IS ITTTT!!!!!!!!!”

Sarah screams from the closed door of her upstairs bedroom. Clearly your time downstairs was limited before she began even more antics from the confines of her unkempt bedroom.

He hands you a glass, amber liquid sloshes upon crackling ice fills up a quarter of the cylindrical glass.

“Hope ya’ have fun t’night sweetheart. Make sure Sarah’s doin’ alright.”

You flash him a shy smile as you take your drink to go, climbing the hardwood stairs leading to her bedroom as quickly as you can without spilling it.

“Who was it? What took you so long! Is that whisky?”

“Can you ask one question at a time?”

“Well I already asked all of em so what's the point?”

“Just for future reference.”

“Maybe. Well?”

“your dad forgot his key, I helped him inside, he gave me a drink. Tis the story.”

She looks you up and down as the recollection of her father instills newfound meekness at the mention of him.

“Ok weirdo. Here, take candids.”

…

Halloween music blares from speakers as the party comes to a head, the myriad of costumes all still holding creases from the cheap packaging they were purchased in become clustered together as the drinks you have begin to get to you. The smell of alcohol and pumpkin fill the room as a cacophony of laughter takes you out of a spell of staring thankfully focused on the floor and not upon unsuspecting persons.

The only person who seemed to stand out amongst the crowds of duplicate costume and cheesy innuendos was a certain Mr. Miller— a prolific wallflower that only hosted these things as a means to keep Sarah close in situations like this. For if not here, she’d be somewhere else doing the same thing.

Eyes scoured the home every few minutes, looking to catch a glimpse of Joel within his costume, politely smiling at guests through small talk or taking slow drinks of his flask.

“Hey you!!!”

You’re startled by the sound of Sarah's boom from across the room as she calls for you, a caramel hand stuck high in the air to signal you to her, drawing you out of the trance of Joel’s small movements.

You walk to her with careful steps, trying not to step on capes or trailing costumes in the process.

“What’s up with you! I’ve barely seen you at all tonight! I know you’re not a party girl anymore but please, try and live it up for me!”

Something catches her eye as she speaks to you, her smiling face turning into an O with excitement;

“And—”

She points behind you.

“I think that guy over there is checking you out. Go have fun! Let me hear all about it later!”

Later. You forgot you’d promised to sleep over at her place too, rehashing the night's events as soon as they came to a close as you always did over the years. Though the first thing that comes to your mind is not the man behind you eyeing you, tacky tie-dye making up for a lackluster hippie costume, but Joel. the man who in fact owned the home you would be sleeping in, the man who kept eyeing you from the side of the room with a gaze you accepted much greater than the mans behind you, and above all, the man that had caught your heart in a way that led to it's seeping out between your thighs.

God, what the fuck is wrong with me? This isn't right it's, it’s Sarah's dad. She’d be heartbroken to even know I think like this.

You decide to throw away all the Clint Eastwood movies you stole from your dad and uninstall red dead redemption 2 when you got home, and blame your attraction solely on your overconsumption of cowboy media. You need a breather.

There's a balcony, facing the back of the property that was off limits to the party guests. Entered only through Joel’s bedroom, anyone would be stupid to test their luck if getting caught within his personal dwellings. However, you were Sarah’s best friend. And was even shown this entryway by Sarah herself— of course when her father was not home. And so you decide with cautious steps to ascend the stairs of his home, the liquor giving way to uncertainty in every step as your eyes are glued to the placement of each foot upon the step one by one. Though as you reach the top with great pride, you venture into Joel’s room, to the left of the stairs as Sarah’s is farther to the right.

You had never been in his room by yourself before, only for a brief moment with Sarah as she showed you one of her favorite spots in the house. It was secluded, of course looking over the backyard she lamented years past as a girl playing within the pool below. She was at the age where she wanted to be independent, but in no way could be yet; and for her that was about 10. And as means to give her her freedom but keep her close, he would watch from the confines of a balcony she paid no note to as the splashing of waves kept her occupied. And he doted on her from a distance.

As you walk through his bedroom, walls covered in guitars and desk littered with wooden sculptures while a record shows to be finished upon his player. Sheets properly made upon his bed, and a sense of intimacy looking around at the things littered upon his shelves and tables. The framed photo of him and his daughter, his old watch he took off specifically for the occasion of dress. The distinct smell of him that enveloped your senses.

Opening the door to the balcony does the feeling of cool air hitting a flustered face sober you everso slightly. Bracing yourself on the edges of the platform, you drift into a calm. The first time you’d felt that since the moment you opened the door for a cowboy Mr. Miller— as you force yourself to call him in your mind.

“Now what do you suppose yer doin’ in my room?”

Your heart sinks. You knew you’d be fine, if caught, but the thing that sinks your heart is the uptick of your heartbeat and the twist in your stomach at the sight of familiar drawl sounding behind you.

You hear heavy boots break the threshold of the doorway into where you stood as the sound of wood upon his feet changed to a scratch of concrete.

He stands next to you, forearms pressed against the railing as his back curves along casual footing aside of you. The moonlight illuminates his face, the curve of his nose complimenting the side profile that gifted you sight at the tufts of hair poking out from the ends of his hat, and the proximity to him gave you the insight to the smell of whisky on his breath as he spoke.

“Needed ta’ take a breather' myself. ‘Spose we had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Ya’ having a good time t’night kid?”

“Oh yeah, I haven't seen all that much of Sarah though did you—”

You stop as he shifts his body to turn to you.

“Now, can I be honest with ya’?”

As you turn to look at him, mirroring his stance he dwarfs you in the process, standing at around 6ft the broad of his shoulders shadowing your whole figure.

You nod your head meekly.

“I just— now, I don't know how ta’ say all this quite right. But, don't get me wrong darlin’, I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ fer me all night. I don't know if ya’ think i'm blind or somethin, but i’ve seen ya’ all night, watchin me.”

He pauses for a moment and within that silence does your heart shatter. The whole time you thought that he was eyeing you, looking you up and down, it was just a one sided coincidence that led you to this awkward conversation with a man twice your age. You start;

“Oh listen I'm, I'm so sorry Mr. Miller I must have given the wrong impression or something I don't know i'm just so—”

“Please, call me Joel. And don't hafta’ be so sorry sweetheart. Just callin’ it how I see it.”

He pauses once more as he considers what he’s going to say next, a tinge of uncertainty covering his face as he decides how to follow up.

“And I don't quite mind it, if that's what you’re worried ‘bout.”

The tense of your muscles releases as he continues.

“Just, wanted ta’ tell you you looked quite well yourself that’s all.”

He’s holding back, you can tell by the sway of his legs as he goes on and the grip of his fingers upon the pocket of his pants. The way his gaze averted yours and his glancing upon the floor; for any look at you from your eyes to your body seemed to be hard for him to swallow with proper manners.

Your eyes lock in silence, the pale moonlight illuminating you two as the distance from Joel grows unconsciously closer as you take in his face, his body looming over yours and the prospect of their being more within his mind that he’s willing to give you. The southern hospitality still overshadows his true means.

Rough fingers graze your face, tucking hair behind your ear as it falls in front of your face. And as he leans forward to do so, you lean in as well. Blinded by desire and complicated by liquor and closing the gap between the two of you. Tasting his lips reminiscent of whisky and the frosting of halloween cupcakes you feel him kiss you back for only a moment before shooting himself backwards.

He almost trips over his own feet in adverse reaction, stumbling to the other side of the balcony as you watch him.

“I'm—”

“No darlin’ ya’ don't have to say anything. But I've probably got to get back down to company. Feel free to stay up here ‘s long as you want.”

You watch as he rushes out of the room and the urge to chase after him grows weak as the taste lingers on your lips. The sense of defeat wells in your chest but not entirely, because for a moment he kissed back. A moment you felt him push forward on your lips and savor the flavor of them as you did for him.

Later.

Now, a sleepover with Sarah is what you needed most. A sleepover with her, is a sleepover with Joel right across the way. And the mere feeling of that made your knees weaken with rushing dreams of him.

The party seemed to drag on after that, only satiated by more drinks were you able to bear a night where you could feel him from across the room, sense his body and the heat that came with it. You felt naked for him, utterly exposed at the sight of his eyes trailing you— ones you could only hope followed you the way yours did for him whenever you noticed him with back turned. Drinking in every part of his body as he was none the wiser, finding joy and security within the turn from you as means to make him in for as long as you pleased.

…

“Alright ma’am, seems ya’ need to be goin’ home, me ‘n Sarah got a lot of cleanin to do in the morning.”

An outstretched arm grabs the bicep of a polite Joel, ushering out the final guest that had an affinity for his touch so it seemed.

“Ohhh but darlin when will I see you in such a getup again? Oh i'd never want to leave.”

“‘S a shame I’m about to take it off though ma’am. Now go walk home alright?”

Her eyes hooded everstill she demands even more of him;

“Oh but will you take me? Don't think I trust myself in these conditions.”

He closes his eyes and a heavy sigh leaves his nose.

“‘Spose so ma’am— Sarah, I’ll be right back.”

Her arm loops around his bicep as he leads her out of the house, jealousy overtaking you purely at the close proximity she had to him, for much longer than he ever had with you.

Sarah turns to look at you as you stand a few feet back from the scene, a bemused look painted on your face unconsciously demanding explanation.

“Oh- that was miss carey she uh, she’s had a thing for my dad for years now. It’s kind of funny if I'm being honest, given I didn't see her drink all night.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh for a response, trying to deny the yearning within your stomach to feel Joel’s arm as she did, to touch him, fall over him. Just be close enough to smell him again, feel his warmth. It had felt like decades since the last feeling of him close to you. your body remembering calloused fingers grazing your heated cheek; contrasting with the cold tips that crept upon his hands as the air finally showed hints of the coming winter season.

“Sorry to be a bother, but doya think you could start cleaning up? I’ve gotta get this costume off and shower before I vomit. Thanks!”

As Sarah zips up the stairs all that’s left is you alone, standing within the living room of Joel Miller’s home. One where he could return any second.

You decide to busy yourself with chores, cleaning up stray glasses and bottles littered across the house, fallen decorations and dessert trays now only holding wrappers and trash. It’s a hefty job, one that helps for a short while as the weight of hours prior looms over you with darring intent to seep deep within your mind, allowing visions of the taste of his tongue, the feel of his body pressed against you to consume you. What you would give to feel his nose clash against yours through sloppy kisses, lips puffy with desire as small nips and clashing of teeth is all that can fester in your mind as candy wrappers stuck to the floor fail to give enough distraction anymore to keep Joel off your mind.

“Fuckin’ christ man I— oh.”

You didn't even hear the door open, or the creak of boots as they settled into their first steps within the home. Only the sound of his voice did you perk up with your mind unable to shake your thoughts as you stand before him. Feet away with a small trash bag in your hand.

He continues.

“Didn't know you’d still be here, my apologies.”

“Oh yeah uh, Sarah didn't tell you I was spending the night?”

“Spendin’ the night?”

He repeats you, barely able to hide his shock. Clearly, she hadn't. And as you stand there, beginning to hear the water running for a shower she’s yet to even get into, the tension of the two of you grows immanent as he realizes just how alone he currently is with you.

He didn't know what to do, feeling palms grow sweaty as his desire clashed with his sense of respect and responsibility as a father and his yearning grew too prominent to hide behind the unforgiving stretch of tightly fitted pants he busied himself once more.

“Oh, right then. Well I ‘spose i’ll be in the kitchen if ya’ need me.”

Walking past you with a heavy stride does the scent of him once more draw you to him— something primal, wanton is elicited from him when in close proximity. One that with a room now void of people to maneuver through, you refused to ignore any longer. You followed his quick steps into the kitchen, separating yourself even further from Sarah as the stairs fell into your purview as you ventured deeper into the home.

You greet Joel at the counter of the kitchen where he stood, pouring another drink for himself does the hand gripping his drink suspend mid air at the sight of your trail behind him.

“Ya’ need somethin’?”

You don't know if it’s the liquor talking, or the suspense and tease of a night full of dreaming for a moment like this to arise but you don't allow yourself to beat around the bush anymore. If this old man failed to make a move, you would.

“I do Joel, really— I think we both do.”

He sets the glass down on the counter with a light chink filling the air. His demeanor changes; you watch as both hands lean forward on the counter to inch closer to you, arms outstretched flex his forearms to reveal muscles only garnered by heavy and hard working. His hip cocked to his left as he made unwavering eye contact with you, a smile forming slightly upon his face.

“And what would that be darlin’?”

He made you nervous. This was a first. The mild mannered gentleman that often stood before you, speaking only when necessary and smiling only when compelled to. You always shook him off, an old man not worth anything but a gracious thank you as he catered to you and his daughter when times came. But as you looked upon that man now, face shadowed by a cowboy hat perfectly curved at its edges lining his head, hairs falling in just the right places over the sides of his face, and the hooded eyes coated with lust you found yourself hard to speak. Hard to even think.

“Well? Cmon’ now I ain't got all day.”

He's taunting you. Watching you grow nervous under his gaze as you become the one that can't hold it anymore.

“You, and me I mean. The way you look at me— I want you Joel. And so do you, right?”

Without skipping a beat, Joel retorts

“So come closer then sweetheart. Can't do anything with ya’ so far away.”

your heartbeat picks up again. Shaking steps inch around the bend of the countertop, until you’re no more than an inch away from him. Watching, as he looks down upon you.

“Good girl— now, what’s this about wanting me hm?”

“What?”

“Oh don't play coy darlin’, I love hearin’ you tell me all about how much you need me. The look in those pretty little eyes.”

A coarse finger falls upon your cheek once more, this time lingering there before toying with stray hairs. His fingers trail to your chin and jaw, gripping onto your face to lift it higher to lock dark eyes with his.

“Such a doll. I wanna hear ya’ beg for it.”

You feel a pool of slick well between your thighs, heating and dampening already ruined underwear at the sight of him as the night went on. Though as you listened to the sink in his voice, demanding you to beg for him. You don't even know what you were so needy for, his kiss? That was too little. You wanted all of him, and as knees felt weak at the thought of it— him, and you completely at his disposal. He dwarfed you from this closeness, you realized this as you approached him. He overpowered you in every way, and that made it even harder to say what you wanted. Every semblance of confidence leaves your body as all you want to do now is whatever he demands, whatever he says.

“Please Joel I— I need you. Every part of you. I can't take my eyes off of you. Every part of you looks so perfect no matter the angle or the lighting. Id, i’d never noticed it before but now I…”

The gust of articulation you had quickly dwindled as his face lit up from such compliment, such desperation. You were desperate, needy for him. That much was true. And he knew that.

“Mmm that's all ya’ had to say sweetheart.”

Now he is the one that closes the gap between you, the yearning for his taste finally satiated as your lips collided once more, the fantasies of clashing of teeth against one another with impassioned touch as his hand falls from your face to trail bare stomach. Feeling the large of his hands take in every inch of you with precision, like he had memorized exactly where he wished to be. Feeling as his hands trace down to your hips, and slowly maneuvering up to the wire of your bra.

“Take it off. Please.”

You beg through breathy moans as you stay inside his mouth, taking into him as you refuse to open any gap of distance between the two of you.

“Since ya’ asked so nicely.”

His fingers trace the center of your chest where a simple tie kept together thin fabric that complimented your chest. Unraveling it's knot does he guide it off your arms and onto the floor, a free hand snaking to your back to unhook your bra, leaving you with nothing but the shorts you wore and the hat upon your head to constitute a costume.

His mouth lets up from you to look down on your chest, his palms engulfing them as he kneeds them within his hands, letting the weight of them move with his fingers as he massages them. Fingers slowly trailed down to the mountain of your nipple, toying with them with two fingers as his eye flitted back up to you to watch your reaction. Sighing in relief, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cool touch against a body so overwhelmed with heat for him.

He leans in to you, his lips pressing softly against your ear his voice no matter a whisper is still laced with lust creating deep tones otherwise foreign to you to emit from him as he speaks to you;

“God you don't know what you do to me darlin’.”

“Then show me.”

His hands make quick way to the back of your thighs, lifting you up to his hips where you can feel his bulge pressing into you, the thin material of your shorts leaving little room for imagination.

Walking to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, he sets you on a table that meets him at about hip level, lowering your back onto the wooden finish that often held dinners with the three of you now making way for just the two of you as you watch the buckle of his pants become the main spot of his attention.

“Bet ya’ could feel what you’re doin’ to me sweetheart, you like that hm? Feelin’ my cock against you even for a fuckin second?”

He talks down to you as he undresses his lower half, relieving himself to only his boxers as he now knelt down to face your heat, legs dangling off the edge of the table to uses that as means to slide your shorts off with ease, revealing the soaked underwear that gave you constant reminder of the eyes you held the whole night.

“All this for me hm? Ain’t I lucky.”

He lifts a finger to massage the outside of your heat, slowly pressing on the wet spots as he toys with you, making your breath hitch at the feeling of his touch, the sensitivity only growing overtime as you were denied for so long.

Slowly he peels off your underwear, allowing your slick to trail down the side of your thigh as it leaves a trace when it hits the floor. The cool air hitting your clit makes you jolt, but Joel wasting no time allows himself to dig straight into you. Feeling his tongue explore every crevice of you, every place where you have leaked for him he wants to take in every drop of it. Tasting you was like heaven to him. As his lips were pressed against your heat as his tongue began to make a repeated circular motion along your clit.

your fingers beg for his hair, grasping it in desperate fingers do you confine him within the bars of your thighs as they squeeze against his head.

“Mmng— god Joel it feels so nice please I-”

He waited for you to speak before sticking a finger inside of you. Thick callused fingers grabbed at your core and pushed its way into your center, hooking at sponge from inside you right at the spot that felt best. No longer could you ever think he didn't know what he was doing, it’s as if he knew your own body in and out, and with the whines you have to bite back out of fear of it drowning out the shower's thud of water upon a clueless Sarah.

“You like that sweetheart?”

Joel groans into your pussy, he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Hearing your stifled yelps and desperate moans over his tongue, his finger inside of you.

“Y..yes please Joel I need more.”

He slides in with a second finger, though lets up from your clit. Slick drips to his chin as he rises to face you, leaning over you as fingers still pump inside of you.

“Never fuckin’ satisfied, is that it? Whaddya need darlin’ hm? How about ya’ use those words for me.”

He made it hard for you to speak or even think as the steady grind of his fingers inside of you overtook your senses. But you obliged, trying through breathed heaves to try and relay what you desperately needed from him.

“Fuck me. Please fuckme Joel I cant— ngh I cant fucking take it anymore.”

“Good girl. Guess you’re in luck ‘cause I aint ever wanted to fuck someone this bad in my entire life. And I’m not gonna be gentle on ya’ alright? I know you can take it.”

Slowly removing his fingers from you, he lifts them up to his own mouth to let him taste you one last time, slowly licking clean what was just knuckle deep within you. You watch as he slithers his boxers off, revealing what seemed to be impossible to fit inside of you. His cock was pulsating, almost red as it yearned to be touched, it yearned to be inside of you. You watch as beads of precum already coat its tip, and veins throb against the slight curve of him that twitches at the feeling of release.

Inching towards you you feel his tip graze your core before pushing into your folds, covering himself with your slick does he push himself flush against you as you see how far his cock rides up onto your body. You see him smile at the sight of it lying on your stomach, predicting how deep it’ll push inside of you before he centers it once more at your entrance, slowly spreading you open as you feel a fire burn within your stomach at the initial pain of it. It felt as though he was ripping you apart slowly, legs instinctively closing did his hand grab onto your thighs to push them open.

His body flushes against yours with a deep groan, letting your walls warm his cock for a moment as he looks down on you.

“You’ve got a pretty fuckin’ body ya’ know that? All done up fer me, feel so lucky finally gettin’ to do this.”

He begins inching in and out of you with slow pace, your body moving with every stroke of his cock around you as you fell hopelessly obsessed with the feeling of him inside of you.

“Been wantin’ to do this all night— imagining what ya’ looked like under that pretty little costume of yours. Fuck, woulda fucked you right on that balcony if I could’ve. Nngh—”

His thrusts in you grow faster as he speaks to you, talking you through the whole thing makes you only look at him with wide eyes, desperately needing his cock and drinking in the southern drawl that detailed how he felt the exact same.

“Body’s fuckin’ perfect. Pretty little pussy all fer me, yaknow that? Right now you’re all fuckin’ mine hm? Ain't that right doll?”

“Yes, yes Joel— all for you nngh. My body is all yours please, please don't stop.”

His finger trails down from your thigh to your clit, throbbing with pain at the need to be touched does he satiate it with a thumb beginning to circle where his tongue did moments prior.

“Fuckkk please oh my god”

your breath grows irregular as the fire burning in your stomach grows white hot, unable to utter anything coherent as babbling of desperate please escape your mouth as your body becomes addicted to his every touch. The push of his cock directly against your cervix, the circle of his thumb perfectly against your heat, you felt it bubble inside you. Nearing on toppling over all you can think of, unconsciously chanting as he fucks into you Joel Joel Joel Joel

“Ya’ gonna fuckin’ come for me? Cmon, I wanna feel it darlin’ I want it to swallow me I want you to cum on my fuckin’ cock hm? Can ya’ do that for me?”

He groans over you, thrusts growing irregular at the desperation of his own climax reaching a head at the same time yours does. Only letting a few more thrusts greet you before you feel it toppling over, every inch of your body becoming utterly ruined below him. Feeling his cock inside of you pistoning into you through your orgasm, legs lock around his clothed waist as your hips buck up, shaking as your back arches against the table with legs raised, most of your body not even on the table anymore as he holds your legs stable to fuck through his own orgasm.

“Fuck fuck darlin’ you’re so fuckin’ tight— shit you feel so good.”

“Inside of me”

You manage to breathe through a fogged mind and blurry vision as the sensitivity of your body makes his use of you mind numbing.

“Please. Please Joel please cum inside of me please—”

You feel heavy liquid fill you as he slows his pace, heavy groan being the only thing that fills the room now as he pumps in and out of you, softening inside of you as his seed leaks from you. He slowly removes himself from you, a collection of your own fluid and his trails down the side of your thigh as you both stay there breathless. Watching as he slowly shifts on his boxers, and loosely does pants that are soon to come off later.

Before you’re able to right yourself or even get up, you watch as Joel slides your clothes back on you, latching your bra softly as he raises your back up to do so. Slipping your top on and tying a proper knot is the only thing missing from your wardrobe, the underwear he took off of you, that of which becomes missing as he slips your shorts onto you.

“I think you forgot something.”

“Think I deserve a little trophy don't you darlin’?”

You flush at the implication, Joel keeping them as a sort of token of remembrance of you, of this night.

Straightening yourself up as he finishes clothing you do you stand there, as you watch his back once more fill up glasses of water for you and him. Taking in all he is, form fitting cowboy attire still decorating his body, do you outstretched a hand to feel his bicep, a desire you’d had the moment that woman did. As he turns to face you, feeling your hand brush against his body once more he smiles slightly, teasing;

“Ya’ like what ya see sweetheart?”

“I just wanted to feel you.”

“Already did a lotta that don't ya’ think? But be my guest.”

He hands you a small glass of water as he drinks out of his own, and as silence engulfs the two of you you hear the dreaded creak of a shower turning off sound from the upstairs as reality sets in for the two of you once more.

“Think ya’ best go check on Sarah now.”

“Yeah that’d be smart.”

You avert his eyes as you’d done once prior, engulfed by embarrassment as you remember Sarah after the intimate moment you shared.

“Well, I’ll be down here for a bit longer, then headed ta’ bed. You just uh, let me know if ya need anythin’ right? You know where my room is.”

A small smile across his face implies a very different definition of ‘needing’ something, depending on how you view it. But as you ascend the stairs to help deal with Sarah once more, part of you knows that you’ll be asking him for some more help, cleaning, before night's end.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #cowboy pedro #cowboy joel #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction

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batboyblog · 2 months ago

Note

Less than 60 days out from the election, how do you think we’re doing, considering the recent debate and Taylor Swift unleashing the Swifties?

I'll start this by saying we're with-in the margin of effort, if either side really puts their backs into it, and pushes and shows up, volunteers in big numbers and turns out voters it could go either way.

So having said that, I feel good, right now the national polls are close, but all show Harris ahead. The swing state polls likewise are close but mostly show tied or leaning to Harris. On top of which Senate Democrats (and the candidate for Governor in NC) are running far ahead of her in polling, I hope thats a sign that late undecideds will break Democrat, they often do break toward the incumbent.

On the debate, I'm often skeptical that debates shift things. That said I think anyone watching would say that debate is pretty unique in the history of Presidential debates. The media has been working very hard to uh "sane wash" Trump and what he says. That debate was an unfiltered view of Trump. I'm frankly shocked he brought up the pet eating, the right has been meming about it but I thought he'd only say some dogwhistle to it not just straight up say some of the most racist shit imaginable on live TV. The bar for Trump was very low and he still failed totally to meet it. Likewise Harris had a high bar and met it, she was claim, she was professional, she came across as ready and smart while also serving as the audience surrogate to let us all know "yeah this is as crazy as you think it is"

just briefly here the attack on Haitian Americans is crazy, and racist, and the whole "the immigrants are eating dogs" goes back 100+ years, I've read people accusing NYC Jews in the early 1900s of kidnapping and eating neighborhood cats and dogs. But also its politically crazy too since Florida where Trump and Republican Senator Rick Scott have both been slipping in the polls as America's largest ethnic Haitian community, just over 500,000 or roughly 2% of the state, so great plan to call them pet stealing and eating monsters just before an election.

The other factor is the Laura Loomer. If anyone doesn't know who she is click that link and enjoy, but basically she's a white nationalist and Islamophobe (that's according to her) and the person extreme far right Republicans point to as proof that they're not "that bad" any ways, Loomer seems to have been with Trump, on his plane the day of the debate and every day since, and Republicans are wigging out

MTG, and any number of Trump super supporters are sounding off about how much they don't like this, and the internet is "joking" that Trump and Loomer are sleeping together. Together with his unhinged debate being connected with one of the worst people in American politics might cause serious problems. In any case a campaign of just alt-right memes is not gonna win most Americans.

On TSwift, I mean the data I've seen showed a really big jump in people exploring registering to vote after her message which is good. I'm again skeptical about how much of an impact she'll have? celebrities in general don't have that big of an impact, basically 90% of famous people are Democrats/liberal, but their fans don't always go along, don't get me wrong I'm happy she endorsed I just am unsure how big an impact it'll end up having.

So to repeat what I said at the top, we're in the margin of effort, if everyone who doesn't want Trump volunteers and puts in the work Harris will win, so

VOLUNTEER

#politics #us politics #american politics #kamala harris #Trump #taylor swift

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leclercss · 10 months ago

Text

Tainted Love, Part 10 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,

Part 9

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: the final part. it's been 84 years since i first started this fic. thank you for the love.

word count: 7k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa @viennakarma, @cmleitora, @angeliquekalampoka, @mirrae, @amalialeclerc, @roseseraj, @glow-ish, @janeholt3, @eviethetheatrefreak, @toppersjeep, @miniemonie2001, @angelwithoutmywings, @nichmeddar,

"[Y/N]!"

You don't really hear your name being called at first. You've been stuck in your own thoughts for the last five minutes, staring at something in particular.

"[Y/N]!" The voice is closer to you this time a round but it's still not enough to knock you out of the deep trance you've found yourself in. It's only when the plastic stick laying on the counter top in front of you is snatched away that you're pulled out of your trance.

"You can keep looking at that test all you want, it's not going to change the outcome".

Your eyes immediately shoot up as you see Lewis standing on the other side of the counter with a wry smile on his face.

"What? Huh?"

His smile softens as you struggle to muster up a few words. His sudden appearance and the sudden disappearance of the pregnancy test has clearly caught you off guard. So much so that your cheeks are slightly red at the fact that you've been staring at the negative pregnancy test more than you would like to admit.

"I said, you can keep looking at the test all you want. It's not going to change the outcome," he repeats. You're pretty sure the humour in his voice is to hide the disappointment (or relief) in his voice.

"Unless, you want it to be positive?"

You immediately shake your head. "No, oh God, no!"

Lewis chuckles once more, "It's okay, [Y/N]. If you don't want to have babies with me you can just say i- Owww!"

His hand immediately shoots up to his now sore bicep. No thanks to the punch that you've just thrown at it.

"It's not funny, Lewis," you try to stifle a laugh but the look Lewis is throwing at you as he rubs his bicep is only making you fail.

"And no, I don't want it to be positive," you continue. A lot more serious this time. "The last thing any of us need right now is a baby in the picture. Life is already a shit show, I don't need to add literal baby shit on top of that too".

Lewis smiles at you softly. He's still rubbing at his tender bicep. Drama queen.

"I know," he responds. "Would have been a cute kid either way though".

Because you and Charles are some of the most attractive men I've ever laid eyes on?

But you held back on expressing that thought out loud. The situation at home was still extremely raw. The fact that you and Lewis were having a conversation like this was almost a miracle. Especially after you learned that Lewis and Charles had a face to face meeting while you were spending some time in your home town. A conversation which Lewis had initiated. How he ever got Charles' contact details was something that you were too scared to ask about. Some things were better not knowing.

And while you were thankful that both of them left their confrontation without any physical bruises, there were clearly some internal bruises that still hadn't quite healed. Especially when Charles had looped you in on the conversation, distain in his voice any time that he mentioned Lewis. He was so agitated after the meeting that Charles had unintentionally ratted both Lewis and himself out on the fact that neither of them covered themselves in glory. Both of them using their sexual experiences with you to try and get one up on the other.

He didn’t ask you whether or not you had sex with him before you went to Belgium. When you had confronted Lewis about the meet up, he volunteered that information himself. It was his way of “being more honest in our marriage” before he ranted about Charles being arrogant and entitled. How ironic.

You were initially angry at their behaviour but you somewhat understood it. It was childish and pathetic for the both of them to use you having sex with them as some sort of dagger into the other's heart but they were desperate. Trying to salvage whatever they could from your relationship. And who was to say you wouldn't behave the same way if the roles were reversed?

You feel your breath catch in your throat as Lewis is staring at you.

"Because that kid would have the most beautiful mother," Lewis finished his sentence, his voice ever so gentle.

His words leave you without any words of your own. You feel your heart strings tug as his words sunk in.

You hadn't realised a tear was running down your cheek until Lewis wipes it away with his thumb. His eyes meet yours and you begin to feel your body slowly melt as under his gentle touch.

While, to his credit, Lewis was there for you when you began panicking about your period not arriving and offered his support, this moment was so delicate and intimate. And it had been the first moment like this since you had returned from Belgium a few days ago where you could almost feel you give yourself to him.

And while your relationship was still at one of its lowest points, it felt nice to have a moment like this and appreciate that deep down, you've always loved each other. Even if at some stage in your relationship you had grown to dislike one another.

As the two of you are still looking at one another, you feel your hand reach up and lay it on top of the land Lewis has rested against your cheek. Your fingers eventually lacing into his.

You were savouring this moment with him.

You stood like this until the two of you were interrupted by Roscoe. He'd clearly been missing some attention from the two of you and decided that dropping a slobber-coated toy onto your feet was the way about getting your attention again.

"Thanks for that, Roscoe," you joked as you kneel down to pick up the toy and begin to play with your beloved pet. And as you do so, you can't help but notice that Lewis' eyes remain fixated on you.

As you played with Roscoe, your mind drifted to what lay ahead for you. You weren’t ready to let go of Roscoe. Surely you’d come up with some arrangement either with Lewis but you weren’t sure how emotionally ready you were for all of this.

You placed a kiss on the tip of his nose before Roscoe decides that he’s ready to lay back on the sofa for a while. You decide to follow him with Lewis not far behind.

As you sit on the sofa beside Roscoe, you’re a little surprised that Lewis decides to take a seat on the other side of you. He takes your left hand and intertwines it with his own. He’s smiling to himself but he looks sad.

He stays silent for a moment, before finally letting you know what he’s thinking. “It’s weird holding your hand and not feeling your wedding ring”.

You let out a little sigh before resting your head on his shoulder. “I know. I feel naked without it”.

Lewis begins to play with your fingers. He’s touching you as if he’s remembering every last millimetre of your body.

“Why do you think your period is late?” he asks you quietly.

“Probably stress,” you tell him. “High levels of stress can affect my cycle”.

He nods. His tattooed fingers are tracing the palm of your hand. Memorising every little line.

“Have you told him?”

He doesn’t want Charles’ name mentioned in your home any more. He told you this before you left for Belgium a couple of weeks ago. And out of respect for your marriage, with what little hope there was left in it, you obliged with Lewis’ wish.

You sigh once more, “No. I haven’t”.

He doesn’t think you catch it but you see the glimmer of joy that quickly flashes across Lewis’s face. For him, it’s a small victory. When you found yourself in a state of panic last night, realising that your period was over a week late, it was Lewis you had come to. You had trusted him to get you a pregnancy test this morning. And you had trusted him to wait with you while you waited the two minutes for the result.

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out,” he had told you.

You had nodded, not saying much. Once the negative result showed up on on the test, he had pulled you in for a hug as he waited for your reaction.

He didn’t know what outcome he would have wanted. The possibility of you having a child with him excited him. But then the realisation that it could also be Charles’ angered him. And so he said nothing.

But as he sits here now, with your hand in his and your head on his shoulder. He feels some sort of hope. Maybe he was delusional. You had taken your wedding and engagement rings off after all. But you were here with him. And it was him that had supported you through the pregnancy scare. Not Charles.

You looked around the living room, taking in all of the furniture and decor that you and Lewis had bought over the years. Wondering how you were going to divide it all up. It was a job you could save for another day. But you didn’t have long before you had to figure it all out.

“Are you excited about the idea of New York for a year? Work must be happy that you said yes”.

You feel Lewis let out a deep exhale while your head still rests on his shoulder.

When you had returned to London a few days ago, after a couple of weeks at home, Lewis had received a call from work about an opportunity in New York. They were expanding operations and needed a man on the ground to oversee the project. And as Lewis spent a lot of time in the US over the years, they felt like he was the perfect man for the job. And they needed someone ASAP.

And with your marriage in tatters and having spent the day before looking at Charles' smug face, Lewis seized the opportunity without a second thought. That was until you arrived home and he broke the news to you. He was moving across the pond. After a heated discussion, Lewis finally admitted that he didn't know what that meant for the two of you. He was keen to fix things between the two of you but he couldn't go back on his commitment.

If only the commitment of a lifetime together had meant just as much when all of this started almost two years ago, you thought.

“Yeah, I mean I love New York. It’s my second home. But there’s just so much to do before the move in six weeks,” he replies. “My mum said she’d take Roscoe for us. Until I figure out if it’s a more permanent move”.

“That’s good”.

“You can visit whenever you want though. She doesn’t need me there to want to spend time with you,” he continues.

You look up at him and smile.

“I think she prefers you to me, anyway,” Lewis scoffs, causing you to let out a giggle.

“Not possible, Lew”.

You pause before asking him, “Did you tell her everything?”

He shakes his head. “No, not everything. But she knows that we’re separated,” he tells you. “What about you? Did you tell your mum everything?”

“No. Same as you. I’m not ready for the lecture she’d give me,” you sigh.

Lewis half-heartedly chuckles.

“So she doesn’t know about him?”

“No, she doesn’t,” you sigh once more.

Your hand has still been in Lewis’ the whole time, his fingers still tracing every millimetre of your skin.

“You know, work said they’d be able to get a visa for you,” he tells you quietly.

You lift your head from his shoulder and look at him.

“You what?”

He looks at your hand in his for a moment longer but finally lifting his eyes to look in yours.

“They said they’d get you a visa for the States. So you can come to New York with me. We can start fresh,” he sounds nervous. “We can start a new life. A new city, a new beginning.”

You don’t say anything. You’re just trying to process what he’s told you.

“We've always dreamed about New York, baby. This could be our chance to make things right. I want to make things right.”

Your mind flashes back to the first time that you stood outside Charles’ building. You’re just as nervous this time around as you call Flat 807. Charles has made sure that Joris and Riccardo weren’t home, he’d save you from their rathe for today. He just wanted you to himself. It’d been long since he’d been able to do so.

As you’re buzzed into the building and make your way towards the lift, your conversation with Lewis about New York is still rattling around in your brain. Well, it was more of a proposal from Lewis rather than a two way conversation.

He’d told you about an apartment he found in Greenwich Village. You were a big fan of the show Friends so it was the perfect area in Manhattan for you both. It had an extra room, perfect for a walk in wardrobe for you both. Or even a nursery if you guys were ready to start a family. He’d clearly taken inspiration from your recent pregnancy scare. He then told you about how Roscoe could eventually move over and how you could spend winter weekends skiing in Vermont with spring and summer weekends spent in Miami or the Bahamas. It was your choice for a do over. The past forgotten. The future full of possibility.

Just thinking about it made you feel dizzy. And you couldn’t allow it to occupy your mind any longer. Especially not when you were about to see Charles for the first time since he came to see you at Whitney’s.

You pushed the idea of New York to the back of your mind and made your way out of the lift as you reached the 8th floor. You see Charles waiting for you at his front door.

Your heart skips a beat at seeing him again and you immediately run towards him. He’s just as desperate to see you as he pulls you in for a hug, burying his face in your neck. Indulging in the feeling of you again.

"I've missed you, amour," his voice is so gentle in your ear.

Your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers already getting lost in his long locks.

"I missed you too, Charles".

You embrace each other for a little longer. It's the closest you've been in so long and it feels so fulfilling to have him cling onto you like this.

As you fingers softly massage his scalp, you turn your head slightly to place a gentle kiss on his ear. While subtle, the kiss causes Charles to lift his head so he can look at your face and your eyes immediately connect with his.

"Hi, baby," you whisper. Your fingers are still lost in his hair.

"Hi, amour".

The smile that's on his face is almost enough for you to just want to grab his hand and run away with him forever. He looks so happy. It's the smile he gave you when you told him you loved him for the first time.

Despite what your body is telling you, your mind flashes back to a couple of days ago when you had that intimate moment with Lewis. And you were almost ready to give your everything to him. And that's how you feel now. But you can't help but feel guilty.

"Are you okay, amour?" Charles asks you. A hint of concern in his voice.

You've gone quiet for a few moments and so you nod to reassure Charles. You need to get Lewis out of your head. And so you lean in and kiss Charles.

The feeling of his lips on yours soon allows you to forget about your husband. As Charles' hands make their way to cup your face, you feel the image of Lewis in your mind drift away.

The two of you slowly make your way into Charles' apartment, lips still attached. You stumble your way into the kitchen where Charles lightly presses his body against yours so you're backed up against the counter. He eventually peels his lips away from yours.

"Merde, I don't think you realised how much I've missed you," Charles says with a light chuckle. You can't help but smile.

"I know, I've missed you too. I can't believe it's been almost three weeks since I've seen you".

"It's the longest we've ever been apart, amour".

You can't help but let out a light-hearted laugh. It felt good to see him after all this time. Bar from having to behave in public around your friends and, erm, husband, yourself and Charles could barely stay apart from each other once you were in close distance to each other.

You always seemed to find a way back to each other. And here you were once more, in his arms. His face ever so close to yours. The smell of his aftershave subtly lingering in the air. He was intoxicating.

"How was Belgium?" he asks you.

"It was fine," you respond. "Nothing ever really changes there though. But it was nice to see my mum. It'd been a little while".

He nods. "Yeah, I know the feeling. It's been a while since I've been back to Monaco," he says before pausing for a moment. His eyes quickly scan your face before continuing, "Did you speak to your mum about what's happened?"

You shrug your shoulders. "A little. I mean, I told her things haven't been great between Lewis and I. That we were spending time apart".

Charles nods once more. "How did she take it?"

You let out a sigh. "I mean, she was upset that I've been having a hard time of it. But honestly, I think she's a little relieved. Her and Lewis didn't always see eye to eye".

Charles can't hold in his laughter.

"I feel like I've heard that once or twice before".

You roll your eyes playfully. The grin on Charles' face right now is bordering on smug.

"Yeah, well, he's a polarising character. You either love him or you don't," you sigh while crossing your arms across your chest.

Talking about Lewis in front of Charles is a lot harder for you this time. The memory of the last few days is coming back to the front of your mind again. The pregnancy scare, Lewis, New York. Talks about babies and new beginnings. The nervous feeling is growing in your stomach once more.

Your mind continues to race. Only when you feel Charles place a hand on your cheek do you snap out of it.

"Amour?"

"Huh?" you ask, suddenly started. "Did you say something?"

Charles shakes his head. "Don't worry about it?"

"No, Charles, what did you say? Sorry, my mind went blank," it's a little bit of a lie. You can't tell him that your mind keeps drifting back to Lewis.

He lets out a little sigh before asking, "Do you still love him?"

Fuck! You so weren't ready to answer this question.

And the longer that Charles looks at you, waiting for answer, the more nervous the feeling in belly grows. You lick your lips. And as you run hand through your hair, hoping to find the courage to answer Charles' question, you notice his eyes move towards your hand.

Your left hand.

While you're caught off guard, Charles grabs your hand and pulls it towards him. He inspects it closely, taking in a sight that he's never seen before. You're ringless.

"Charles," you begin but stop as he looks up at you. You're unable to read the look in his eyes.

"You're not wearing your rings?" he asks, his voice almost silent.

You shake your head, you need to find your words.

"Charles... I have to-"

Charles saves you from having to find any more words. You're ringless and for Charles, that's enough proof and the answer he'd been looking for.

Your hand still in his, he lunges towards you and catches your lips in a sloppy kiss. The desperation of being apart from you for so many weeks is getting to him. And now, seeing you without your wedding rings, he can't be without you any longer.

The kiss is messy as the two of you grow more and more hungry for one another. Your tongues have found their way into each others mouths as you claw and grab onto one another in any way that you can. Your hands in his hair. His hands on your ass. Your hands under his shirt, the feeling on his chiseled abs being glazed over by your finger tips. His hands kneading your breasts.

At one point, Charles' hands make their way to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up. Your legs instinctively make their way around his waist. Lips still very much attached, Charles leads the two of you two towards his bedroom. You're slow in navigating the hallway. Banging into walls and furniture along the way.

As soon as Charles manoeuvres his way to the bedroom, he kicks open the door before placing you on the bed. His lips never leaving yours.

The desperation of needing one another only intensifies as the two of you begin to strip one another. Clothes are being pulled off one another in record time, finding themselves in every corner of the bedroom. Your lips even stay attached as Charles fiddles with the hook on the back of your bra while you pull down his boxer briefs. His penis didn't take long to become hard and fully erect. The absence of your body for three weeks and the lonely nights of imagining your touch was enough to have him hard and ready.

"Oh shit," you gasp as you feel Charles fingers graze your folds. You hadn't even noticed him remove your panties from your body.

You hiss again as he pushes his fingers past your folds before his fingers begin to make circling motions on your clit.

"Mhhmmm," you groan. Charles' warm breath is hitting your face and you open your eyes to see his face practically against yours. He's looking into your eyes, watching you as you begin to squirm and groan at his gentle touch.

"Did you miss me?" he whispers, applying more pressure onto your clit.

You nod as you let out a groan, your head falling backwards. As you shut your eyes once more, you see a flash of Lewis' face and immediately open your eyes.

You're grateful that Charles is toying with your clit as you let out a squeal at the image of Lewis.

What the fuck is happening? you ask yourself. You've had sex with Charles, more times than you can remember and yet Lewis never came into your head before. But today, he won't leave you alone.

Needing to occupy yourself, you wrap your hand around Charles' member and begin moving your hand up and down with consistent strokes. Your thighs jerk at the sound of Charles growing in your ear.

"Shit," Charles groans at your touch.

Your lips find each other's once more in another wet and sloppy kiss as you both play with one another.

"Do you want me to lick you out?" Charles grunts into your ear before he begins sucking your lobe. Occasionally licking at the skin beneath your ear.

"Yes," you pant.

Charles wastes no time and quickly makes his way down to the bottom of the bed. He doesn't spend time playing with your breasts or with teasing you any longer. He's hungry and he wants to hear his name roll off your tongue again.

You look down at Charles as he takes a familiar position between your legs. He makes sure his eyes are connected with yours before he leans forward to suck on your clit.

"Oh, God," you instantly cry out as you feel his lips on you. Your thighs jerk once more.

Charles releases your clit from in between his lips so he can give your pussy a long, wet lick.

"Say my name".

You moan at the sound of his voice, so deep and commanding.

As you open your mouth to say his name, Charles takes your clit between his lips once more.

"Oh my god, Charles," you squeal.

Charles begins his assault on your pussy once more and your hands find their way to his hair so you can release some of the tension by pulling at the strands. His face is practically buried against your thighs as he devours you. He's takes in the sight of you squirming before him. Your moans are like music into his ears. He pushes your hips back down towards the mattress before sliding two fingers inside of you.

"Oh, fuck. Charles, I can't," you whimper.

Your pussy is throbbing as Charles' fingers move in and out of you.

"Can't what, baby?" he teases.

Your eyes immediately shoot open at the sound of Charles calling you baby. He never calls you baby.

"Shit, I-," you begin but he plunges another finger into you.

"Do you want to cum?" he chuckles. However, his laugh is anything but innocent.

You nod, hoping that your orgasm ends whatever the fuck is going on in your head right now.

And it does, as you moan and let your body reach it's peak, you look down between your thighs once more as Charles laps up all of your juices.

He puts aside any opportunity for you to return any oral favours as he climbs on top of you, positioning his body in between your legs as he prepares to push himself inside of you. But before he does, he looks at you for permission.

"Are you okay to go?"

You nod, unable to find your words as you come down from your orgasm.

Charles wraps your legs around his waist before lining his dick up against your still throbbing pussy. He takes a moment before he pushes himself in side of you. The both of you moaning simultaneously.

While you adjust to his penis inside of you, he places his hands either side of you head. His face close to yours once more. Your juices glistening his lips and stubble.

His hips move slowly at first, aware that you may still be sensitive from your recent orgasm. As his hips begin to pick up a rhythm, Charles leans down to place a kiss on your lips. As your lips move against his, you let your hands roam across his chest and torso. Letting your fingers dance along his skin.

His movements are finding some momentum as Charles is thrusting in and out of you. Moans rolling from your tongue as you feel his cock moving deep within you. You're taking in every movement and thrust, letting him kiss you however he pleases.

"I... I love you, amour," Charles whispers into your ear.

Tingles run through your entire body as he confesses his love for you. At first you moan at his response, after all he is fucking you. But you let one of your hands run up to his cheek, making sure that his eyes are looking into yours, before you tell him,

"I love you, too".

It's enough for Charles to pick up his pace and begin thrusting into you even quicker than before. The two of you moaning more and more frequently.

Charles takes you by surprise as he takes your hand. It's your left hand. And he's wrapping it around his throat so you're lightly choking him.

You look at him, surprised. But he doesn't let it stop him. If anything, he fucks you harder.

You've never choked him before. You notice that he's running his fingers over your hand that's over his throat.

Wait.

He's not just wanting him to choke you, he wants to feel your hands on him because you're no longer wearing a wedding ring.

You try not to let this phase you. After all, you've thought about Lewis more times than you would like since you came to Charles' place. You won't let him get into your head as Charles makes love to you.

"Merde," you hear Charles groan. He's clearly enjoying the feeling of your hand around his throat while you have no idea how you feel about this. It’s all so new and out of character for Charles.

"I prefer it when you choke me instead," you joke. You feel a sense of relief as Charles laughs.

"Anything for you, amour," he pants as he lets your hand go before he gently places his hand on your throat.

"I don't want to go this long without you again," Charles grunts. The movement of hips becomes more sloppy as he nears his peak.

"I love you, Charles," you whisper as you feel yourself reach your own high. A knot tying in your stomach.

He leans down to place another kiss on your lips before he tries to pick up the pace.

"Fuck, I love you," he moans. He thrusts into you a couple more times before finally releasing himself inside of you.

Charles collapses down on the bed beside you. The room is also silent aside from the two of you panting, recovering from your orgasms.

As you lay on your back, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, pulling your body against his. He places a gentle kiss on your temple.

But you can't seem to get rid of the feeling that's in your stomach. And the longer the two of you try to recover, the larger the knot becomes.

You almost flinch at the feeling of Charles' fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

"Sorry, amour, didn't mean to startle you," his voice is so sweet and so warm. He pulls you closer to his chest, not wanting to let go of you.

"I... I can't believe it," Charles begins.

The knot in your stomach won't go away.

"I, I wasn't actually sure if you'd leave him, you know," Charles continues. "When you left for Belgium, I thought it'd be okay. But when I met Lewis that day, I was a bit sceptical. He said that the two of you had sex before you left. I tried not to believe him but the longer you were away, I started to believe it may be true".

It's like he has word vomit. He can't stop talking. He's so relieved that you're here.

"But then you said you were back and you wanted to meet. I was a little hopeful but you never know how these things go. But when I saw you get out of the lift and when I saw your face, I just knew it was all going to be okay."

He leans down to place a kiss on your lips. He's so excited.

"And then I saw you without your rings. I... I can't quite believe it. But it's real. And you're here, with me and we-"

"Lewis is moving to New York," you blurt out.

Fuck, that isn't what you wanted to say. But Charles is so happy and he can't stop talking.

But now he has, and he's looking at you. He's a little confused but he's still happy.

"He's moving to New York?"

You untangle yourself from his arms as you sit up against the headboard. Charles follows suit.

You look at him and nod. Charles can't help but smile as he takes your hands in his.

"That's good, right?"

You gulp. "He's moving in a few weeks".

Charles nods. "Okay, well if you need somewhere to stay, you can always stay here. We'll figure it out, okay? We'll get somewhere of our own if you want? But the important thing is, we can be together".

'Charles..."

"What’s wrong, amour?"

You let out a sigh as you close your eyes.

"I... I ... Lewis is going to New York and he wants me to go with him".

The End.

(There will be a sequel please don’t kill me)

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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