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tojisbbg · 3 months ago

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𝙢𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚?

❝fuck me like you mad at me, baby; i need a freak to drive me crazy!❞

♡ sae itoshi ♡

wc: 14.5k

a/n: i love my nonchalant princess sm. the storyline is a bit long 'cause i got carried away lmao. but trust the process guys, it's good i promise ;)

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: sae itoshi x fem!reader, reader plays for blue lock (yes, what a queen!), eventual smut, sae is filthy lol, all acts are consensual, disclaimer: i have no knowledge on soccer or how the games work in general lmfao, porn with plot, not edited.

---

jealousy has never been a pretty look, nor has the toxic radiation of arrogance.

it's funny how men can be threatened to such miniscule things, afraid that it'll bruise their strikingly huge egos; bigger than their dicks!

yes, the world is unfair, and sadly women will never be seen as equals. unfortunately, we live in a time where what's in our pants determines our self-worth like some kind of auctioned price tag.

but, you weren't about to label yourself with a price tag stamped on you by a man.

and what better way to do that than being annoyingly damn good at something that was created for men.

the way soccer has deeply nestled itself in your veins was something that most definitely wasn't on your bingo card. you grew up in a small town where people were familiar with each other, being able to tell apart who was a neighbor and who was a stranger.

your dream was to graduate high school with honors and attend a prestigious university in a foreign country; following your passion of becoming an aspiring cardiologist.

but, of course, the criteria list was as big as your ambition. you were required to do a bunch of stuff, such as volunteering for community service, internships, maintaining your grades, and most importantly.... play a sport?!

if there's one thing you absolutely hated in the world, it would have to be playing sports. you weren't athletic at all and you felt limited because where you lived barely had any inclusivity for female players.

but, the university admissions office wanted an all-rounded student, so, you had no choice.

you begged your school's boys soccer coach to let you play. the old man was a tough cookie, hard to crack, but with enough pestering; he gave in. more so, he thought you'd be the one to give up and not show up on the second practice session.

but, to his surprise, you held your ground. in no time, your body went through a series of changes. you became more toned and lean, your strength and stamina gradually increased as well.

the guys on the team ridiculed you multiple times when you struggled to understand the rules or play strategy; but, they'd soon swallow their own words after noticing how in every game it always seemed like you had woken up as someone new.

your adaptability, stamina, improvisation and intuition resulted in you to easily climb up the ranks; replacing the team's captain who served for 2 years.

naturally, your school gained popularity for having such a strong soccer team, and you became the infamous ace card; even though you were the only female player on the team.

of course, you didn't really care about all that. after all, you were doing this in order to prepare a neat and tidy application to ship yourself somewhere else to pursue your dreams. so, you'd mindlessly played against other schools and ultimately; lead your team to victory.

win after win after win.

what you didn't expect was that a lady with short auburn hair has been eyeing from the very beginning; spectating like a creep.

your senior year of high school came by and you were a few months away from graduating. your applications have been submitted and you felt like someone freed you from the shackles of stress. you spent your eighteenth birthday with friends and family, of course, being teased by your relatives of how your body was becoming "more like a man" or whatever the hell that means.

spring had just begun and your acceptance letter has come in the mail. you eagerly opened it, practically screaming in happiness as you almost tripped down the flight of stairs to announce to your parents-

"i'm going to yale!"

you had finished your last soccer practice for the season. while you were about to head in the direction of your house, you saw a lady with short auburn hair approach you.

you tried to ignore her, maybe she was walking towards someone behind you? but, you couldn't hear anyone behind you. she politely smiled at you, almost as if she could read your mind.

"uh, can i help you?" you asked, confused.

"you're y/n, right?" she confirmed, making you cock an eyebrow.

"yes, that would be me." you answered, a bit taken back from her sudden acknowledgment of your existence.

"i've been watching you for quite some time now, and i must say, you are a fine piece of talent for the world of soccer!" she enthusiastically praised, making you look at her with a dumbfounded expression.

"uhm, thank you?....creepy." you awkwardly expressed your gratitude, while mumbling the last part. but, it seems that she very loud and clearly heard you, chuckling at your words.

"listen, i've been watching the most talented soccer players in different parts of japan to recruit. my dream is to create the best soccer team in japan that will win the world cup. so, i created the blue lock project." she passionately explained.

"nice." you blandly responded, making her stare at you like you have two heads.

"are you not getting it? i'm recruiting you to the blue lock project, y/n." she frowned, but her words were still registering in your head.

blue lock project?

world cup?

this must be some joke. so, you laughed at her face like it was one.

"i tried to put past the whole creepy stalking you did on me but this is the most absurd thing you've said so far in our short interaction. you're asking me, a woman, to play in your all-men soccer team that you're planning to perfect for the world cup? listen, lady, i think you need to go home and take a nice nap to clear your head." you scoffed, readjusting your duffel bag as you prepared to walk off, only to be halted as she grabbed your wrist.

"wait! please, just think about it! i know... i know what you're thinking and i get it. us women, we don't get these kinds of opportunities and when we do, there's always some level of competition and gender-bias. but, as a woman myself, whose ambition is to craft the perfect japanese soccer team, i want a woman to play in it. i want a woman to win the world cup! please, i'm requesting you, reconsider." she begged, making your mouth slightly drop.

you sigh heavily, looking at her with stern eyes.

"i'm sorry, but, you'll have to achieve that dream with someone else. i'm not cut out for this life, soccer isn't even my dream. besides, i'm going to america in a few months to attend university there and become a doctor in the future. i hope you can find another woman to play in your team. good luck." you offered a small apologetic smile, making her eyes glimmer with disappointment as she watched you walk away.

a few weeks had passed and you'd just graduated. your flight to america was quickly approaching, so you were busy packing. you suddenly heard a knock at your bedroom door, which cracked open to reveal your mom.

"sweetheart, someone by the name of anri teieri is looking for you." you mom informed you, making you furrow your eyebrows.

"who now? i've never heard of that name in my life." you responded, making her shrug and she ushered you to come downstairs and figure it out.

so, you followed behind her only to be horrified to see the same lady from a few weeks back.

"you again?!" you gasped, speed walking to the door.

"ah, sorry for the unannounced vis-"

"lady! this whole stalking thing is really getting out of hand! i-i mean, how did you even get my address?! god, i feel like i'm being watched like a hawk! last warning or else i'll report you next time!" you threatened, absolutely baffled. her eyes widened, quickly holding her hands up as surrender.

"please, hear me out. i'm not stalking you! i was escorted here by your coach. i... i wanted you to reconsider!" she expressed, her face displaying desperation.

"what part of what i said to you back then don't you understand? i don't have a passion for soccer." you glared, making her face turn to a frown.

"you can't be good at something if there's no passion to drive you! and you... god, you're damn amazing! your goals, your precision; it's unmatched! y/n, please, it's not only that i want you... no, i need you on my team." she persuaded, making your sigh in annoyance.

"even if i wanted to, i can't. it's too late, i already confirmed my spot at the university and my flight is this weekend." you informed her, trying to make peace.

"that's okay! i'll have my team call your university to place you on a guaranteed waitlist, your spot will still be secured. please, just play for the recruitment matches in blue lock. i promise, if you're eliminated; then you can fall back on this. we'll even pay for your tuition cost and flight expenses." she tries to negotiate and you let out a defeated grumble.

"fucking hell, fine, fine. i'll do it." you agreed, making her eyes light up.

"yes! thank you! thank you so much, y/n." she smiled brightly, digging through her purse before pulling out a small card.

"that's the address to the blue lock facility. the mock matches will be taking place this weekend. i'll see you then, y/n." she hands you the card, making you hum.

the hell did you just get into?

---

so, luck has a weird way of working out, and it turns out that you were able to make it out of the recruitment matches. you were officially on blue lock's team.

well, that happened about four months ago. so far, you're still not sure if it was worth quitting and falling back on your safety option, which was still laid on the table by anri.

"jeez, i thought that the only time a woman would've given me a hard time was after i got married." isagi teased, making you chuckle as you laid on the indoor feild.

"hope you don't get married any time soon, your future wife is gonna have a hard time in social spaces when her husband is getting cancelled every two to five business days." you smirked, making him gasp.

"y/n! i thought we were gonna move past that." he huffed, making you laugh.

"what? about the fact that you become a slur machine when you get pissy?" you egg further, making him roll his eyes before cracking a smile.

"but seriously though, those were some killer goals you made today. especially the far distance one you did, man, it got me sweating! how'd you do it?!" his freakishly big blue eyes peered at you, making you rub the back of your neck as you tried to recall that moment.

"uh... don't know, honestly. it just felt right at that moment and my legs moved on its own to score, i saw the opening and knew it was time." you tried your best to explain in order to give him the most accurate answer possible.

"so what you're saying is... you play based on intuition?" isagi's eyes widened, but, his shock only gained a mere shrug from you.

"guess so." you replied, making him let out a dry chuckle.

"fuck, you're more goated than i anticipated." his eyes glimmered with some odd sparks of a mix of inspiration but at the same time a hint of envy.

"now you're just buttering me up, if you think i'm gonna give you the charred sides of my steak today, it's not happening." you stuck your tongue out, making him let out a dramatic sigh.

"well, it was worth the try." he joked, making you playfully jab his side.

after practice and training sessions for the day ended, everyone had dinner as per usual. you sat with pretty much whoever you felt like you wanted to be around with that day. you were good friends with majority of the blue lock members, keeping a low profile and not really interested in creating unnecessary beef.

isagi wanted to be the best striker? great.

reo? awesome.

nagi? spectacular.

rin? fantastic.

you couldn't give two flying fucks about becoming the world's best striker. you were pretty much shoved into the whole situation by anri's big (creepy) puppy eyes. your friends knew about your whole recruitment process, earning you a mix of bustles of laughter along with some of them weirdly having more admiration towards you.

in short, you had no interest in becoming the best striker. it required too much thinking, too many friendship break ups, and so on.

as long as blue lock makes it to the world cup and wins, everything's peachy because anri got what she wanted from you.

dinner was over and it was still quite early for bed. you decided to go to the shared lounge space, where a big tv was installed in the middle of the room. you were bored and thought maybe you'd watch a movie or rewatch old match; whatever the hell was more interesting than being in the four walls of your shared room with nagi, yuki and rin.

you walked into the lounge area, only to be surprised by seeing all three of your roommates present.

"so now we're having group meetings without me?" you playfully snark, making yuki chuckle.

"me and nagi had a feeling you'd use your imaginary sixth eye to sense us here." he joked, making you laugh.

"they're actually my spidey senses, get it right. you guys being together always means being up to no good." you said before squishing yourself before rin and yuki, as nagi opted out to sit on the carpeted floor in front of your legs.

"yeah, we were coming up with strategies on how demolish the U-20 team." nagi lazily added onto the conversation, making you hum.

"oh, those guys. who's even on that team anyways? i was kinda asleep when ego was talking about it." you sheepishly smiled, making rin scoff.

"seriously? this game is an important debut for blue lock, and you're out here sleeping in meetings? dumbass." rin nagged, making you roll your eyes.

"jeez, sorry mr. perfect, i got tired 'kay? now stop leaving me in the dark and tell me more information about this team." you looked at the pair of teal eyes, trying to count how many under lashes he had in the meanwhile.

"it's japan's national team that's composed of the best japanese soccer players that are under the age of twenty. one them being the biggest pests in my life, itoshi sae." rin enlightened you, and you watched a slight darkened shift in his eyes as he mentioned the foreign name to you.

"itoshi sae? he shares your last name, your older brother?" you asked mindlessly, as you thought out loud.

"what do you think, smartypants?" rin deadpanned, giving you an obvious look, making you chuckle.

"sorry, i didn't wanna assume. listen, your family trauma is yours, buddy; i'm not here to mediate or play therapist, so you can be assured i won't dig further in. but, regardless, he's an opponent. so, just like everyone else, i'm gonna try my best to make sure we win." you offered an encouraging smile.

"whatever, this game is just a stepping stone for me. i'll prove to him just how good i am and make him eat his words." he spoke through gritted teeth.

after about an hour of socializing with your roommates, it was getting late and there was early morning training the following morning as per usual. so, you told your roommates to head back without you and you'd come a bit later; so you bid them goodnight.

after being alone in the lounge, you decided to do some research on this special specimen the entire blue lock facility has been bustling about; itoshi sae.

and with each click of a new article, interview or soccer match; you were horrified and mesmerized at the same time.

how can a human being be so cruel, brash, cocky... but so fluid, sharp and agile? he's worse than a criminal.

the way he shits on japanese soccer.

the way he's convinced that the best striker has yet to be born, let alone in japan.

the way he fucking plays... it's almost arousing; making adrenaline pump through your body as blood rushes all around your blood vessels.

what is this feeling?

this new profound inspiration, ambition and drive you're feeling?

god, why did you wanna suddenly have itoshi sae kneeling in front of you on the damn feild?!

you turned off the tv and decided to call it a night. while you were walking through the hallway in the direction of your room, you see a sleepy rin walking towards you.

"rin." you call out, making him look at you with half-lidded eyes.

"huh? jeez, you still didn't sleep? whatever, i don't have time for your jokes, i gotta piss real bad." rin tried to cut the conversation short, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving.

"wait. you need to hear me, rin. i don't know if you consider me as a friend or foe, not that i care, but i want you to know that i share the same vision as you." you looked at him with determined eyes, making him cock an eyebrow.

"the hell are you talking about, y/n?" he asked, confused.

"i don't know what kind of gold your brother is hiding that people want so bad. everyone is meat riding him, but i just don’t get it. yes, he has exceptional skills. but, in my eyes, he's just another nuisance of a midfielder who likes to show off." you sprinkled in some insults, but for some reason, that seemed to bother rin a little.

"listen, i hate that prick, but don't water down his play. he played in spain’s youth team and he’s competed against national teams. he’s not just any midfielder, he’s a prodigy, whether i like to admit it or not." rin weirdly defended (?) his brother.

"so he’s got a taste that soccer exists outside of japan, big deal. he’ll be tasting my ass when i crush him during the game." you smirked, making his eyes widen.

"do you know how much weight your words need to have to make a claim like that? you're so naive. anyone who wants to crush itoshi sae has to become the world's best striker; and that's my goal." he glared.

"rin, i don't need to become the world's best striker to crush your brother; 'cause i already am." you bodly stated, not even understanding yourself and where this confidence came from. but, rin looked rather shocked before an unknowing grin tugged on his lips.

without a doubt, talent runs in the itoshi family. both rin and sae possess a strong talent for soccer. although rin knows that he hasn’t leveled with sae yet, he was still very strong.

that was until you came along.

you waltzed your way onto the field, as if it was your personal ballroom floor and you danced with the players. you predicted everyone’s moves, while yours remained a mystery.

rin could still remember how you painfully defeated him in one of the selections and to rub it in his face, you selected him on your team, basically calling him your bitch in other words.

ouch.

people underestimated your abilities because you were a woman, but many people in this same facility didn’t even have an ounce of your skill.

(cough igaguri cough)

"i see, so this is your ego. i'll be looking forward to your play, y/n, and then we'll see if you can live up to your words or eat them." rin darkly chuckled, making you hum.

"night night, rin." you waved at him, deciding to release him from your shackles so he could go pee.

"yeah, yeah, g'night." he half-waved back, before you both went opposite directions.

suddenly, soccer became something that now intoxicated your mind.

---

"y/n!" you heard the familiar high-pitched voice, finishing putting on your jersey shirt as you turned around.

"oh, anri." you gave her a small wave, watching her approach you.

"ready for the game? i know maybe you didn't expect to come this far, but trust me, i envisioned this for you. listen, i know my desires of having you in the blue lock project was selfish of me, but you truly are a precious gem to us." anri spoke with a gentle voice, her words very powerful and encouraging.

of course, the auburn haired woman was expecting some kind of snarky remark or maybe even your eyes rolling at her; your typical responses because you didn't care much about the blue lock project or soccer to begin with.

what she didn't expect was for you to crack a smile, making her eyes widen.

"y'know, at times, i felt like purposely failing the training stages or mock matches; just so i could get out of here through elimination. but, for some odd reason, i couldn't. failure is not a part of my nature, anri. yes, i was forced into this, but it's 'cause i'm damn good at what i do. i was brought here with no internal purpose or passion for soccer, but, things changed over night. quite literally." you decided to give her a slice of your heart to offer some of your true emotions.

"this is different, y/n." her expression and tone was nothing less than pure shock.

"i found meaning in my place here at blue lock. i want to play the kind of soccer that doesn't just make me win, but, makes my blood course through my veins in excitement. i want to feel alive when playing it. now, i found someone who just might let me have that." you grin at her, brushing your hair. anri gave you a puzzled look, trying to think of who could possibly change your heart like this.

"who?" she asked, curiosity pouring out of her eyes.

"itoshi sae." you smirk.

---

“so hungry- ow! ow! ow!” you screamed in pain, trying to kick away nagi, who was helping you stretch out your legs before the game. the match would start in about tenish minutes. you were sprawled on the ground, both of your legs being parted into a split to help your muscles stretch.

“almost done, stop being such a hassle.” nagi smacked your calves, making you glare at him as you continued to whine and fuss from the burn traveling all over your legs. thankfully, the torture was soon over.

“alright you dusted lumps of talent, today’s match could be life changing for all of you if victory is brought onto blue lock. get into your positions and good luck to you all.” ego spoke and the doors opened, everyone walking outside into the large stadium.

you heard people cheering at the top of their lungs, looking around to see the majority wearing and holding merch that branded itoshi sae’s name. you snorted in disbelief, rolling your eyes.

“ass kissers.” you mumbled to yourself before continuing to walk to your place. you waited for the other team to come out and just on cue, they walked in. you quietely observed each one of them as you familiarized yourself with their traits.

the person whom you’ve been waiting for finally arrived onto your dance floor, u-20′s number ten, itoshi sae. he felt your intense stare on him, turning his eyes to now look right back at you. you gave him a smirk before waving your hand at him, earning a cocked eyebrow from him as he just rolled his eyes at you before looking away.

“how rude.” you huffed to yourself and before you knew it, the game began.

you ran to the center where the ball was freely rolling and even though a bunch of other players were running like a herd of buffalos at the ball, you knew they couldn’t get it.

“you see the ball? well, now you don’t!” you giggled as you placed your foot in front of the ball before turning your feet, making the ball rotate as you kicked it backwards.

as the ball was now running in the opposite direction, you swiftly jumped over aiku’s feet, running to chase the ball as your feet was bumping with it. you happily hummed, your eyes still aware of your surroundings as you noticed sendou and aiku now at your sides.

“hey, pretty lady! that wasn’t very nice of you.” you look over at aiku who was coming towards you, extending his annoying long legs to overpower your movements.

"bite me, snake." you smirked before noticing isagi at your peripheral vision, kicking the ball right between sendou's legs to pass it to your friend.

you panted, trying to catch your breath as you watched isagi getting in position as he tried to make the direct shot, only for it to be struck down. your eyes widened as you saw the player with blonde hair and pink tips use his head to stop the goal from going in.

you read his name on his shirt, shidou.

“what the hell.” you furrowed your eyebrows, running towards the previous formation as shidou passed the ball to the auburn haired male. sae surpressed isagi and chigiri’s speed and then with one quick motion, the ball hit the net.

“that fucking blonde cockroach.” you heard rin swear under his breath, sweat drizzling down the sides of his face.

this was going to be interesting.

the match continued on and u-20 was in the lead. your legs practically felt like jelly, looking at the score board with read 3-3. majority of the goals were made by shidou or sae on the u-20 team, they were devouring everyone and anything in their way.

as for blue lock, the first goal was made nagi, followed by barou and then isagi. both teams were now tied and slowly the 90 minute clock was running out; as there was only 20 minutes left.

this was the last chance, within those 20 minutes, a goal will be made and that team will take home victory.

fuck, you felt like throwing up.

you were getting pissed off, mainly because of the fact that the only person holding everyone back was rin. you knew that there was some kind of drama going on between the itoshi brothers, but rin wasn’t playing in the right state of mind.

“rin, pass!” you yelled, watching him go berserk as he had his tongue out and was drooling. rin looked at you with a clouded look before snickering.

“out of my fucking way, dumbass.” he shoved you away, rejecting to pass the ball to you when you were at a perfect range to shoot. you saw that his main goal was to go head on head with his brother, but that was ultimately a bad idea because sae was protected by shidou as back up.

“y/n! you okay?” you heard reo ask as he ran besides you.

“yeah, i’m fine. but, i don’t think rin is.” you breathed out, trying to catch up to rin who was running in full spped. suddenly, in an attempt to go around shidou, he accidentally kicked his leg when the both of them tried to kick the ball.

“fuck.” you cursed, hearing the whistle blow.

“itoshi rin, yellow card.”

“idiot.” you murmured under your breath as you took this as a chance to steal the ball from rin. you were now in the middle of the feild and the goal was still in a pretty far distance for you to shoot.

suddenly, you felt an arm over your chest in an attempt to block and delay your movement. you looked over to your side and your heart jumped in your chest as you met with the striking teal orbs of the star of the show; the player you've been looking forward to play against so much that you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

itoshi sae.

“my, my! didn’t your mommy teach you not to touch a woman without her permission? you’re naughty, sae.” you teased, trying your best to keep your leg ahead of his. you knew that sae’s main skill was his sharp shooting range and that if he somehow got control over the ball right now, it’d be game over.

you watched over his moves through his game recordings numerous amount of times to predict his play style.

shamelessly, your eyes watched how his meaty and juicy thighs flexed while he ran. you couldn't help the feeling of your stomach tightening, as having such a handsome guy all up on you made your panties twist.

“shut it, you little minx.” sae grumbled, and just as you felt his legs coming to swing faster, you used your right foot to kick the ball to the side.

“you-” he looked at you with wide eyes, only to receive a cocky smile.

“see ya!” you finally able to escape him as your main concern was now to get past shidou who was guarding your shooting point.

"so we meet again, girl. blue lock's ace, a woman, who's been taking the soccer world by storm." you heard shidou cackle as he hovered side to side. you chuckled, hitting him with fast dribbles.

“yeah and you’re about to find out why.” you grinned, kicking the ball directly upwards before leaping into the air, lightly swinging your feet at a calculated angle with a gentle impact. it was enough to make the ball fly past his shoulder, and you quickly ran around the distracted male to catch up with the ball.

the hardest obstacle was down.

"shit, you're cool as fuck, girl." shidou muttered under his breath, still in disbelief from the move you just pulled to move past his block.

in the distance, sae watched you like a hawk, amazed by your game tactic.

it almost seemed as if you weren’t human as no one in this entire universe could’ve predicted you to do that.

not even the prodigy himself.

there was no way in hell any player could've passed that block with shidou and sendou cornering you.

damn, you literally defied the laws of physics.

you were still at a pretty far range to shoot, but, the goal was swarming with dangerous players who were firm to not let you have that opening.

"ah, how annoying." you sighed.

of course, your moves annoyed sae as he was now lunging towards you, trying to stop you from advancing any further. the auburn haired male was pissed, no, beyond pissed as he ran besides you.

“can’t get enough of me? you get me so excited, sae!” you exclaimed, watching him frown as he struggled to predict when the ball was going to move left or right based on your footwork.

"just what are you, woman?! i've never met a player like you!" sae angrily spoke, panting while he tried to take control over the ball. you smirked, feeling like your heart was about to combust just from being acknowledged by him.

"are you falling in love with me?" you asked with a cheeky smirk.

"fucking brat." he scoffed.

“i’ll call this goal, ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?” you taunted and then what happened next was beyond shocking.

you were in no position to shoot and strike a goal, the range was still far and the goal was blocked. shidou was advancing and you were slowly getting cornered with sae on your side and sendou advancing towards your other side.

but, it felt right.

no, no, it is right. this was the perfect timing, the perfect position-

the perfect moment to score a goal.

if you can't find an opening on the field, look above and create your own, that's your play style.

you diagonally cut through his run, making the tip of your feet scoop the ball as you kicked it in the air. another jump and now you were in the air, as you spun and swerved your body to the left, giving the ball a powerful kick.

your eyes watched the ball zoom past the goal keeper’s head, hitting the net as you came back down on the ground. sae blinked dumbfoundedly at you, trying to process what the hell just happened.

the crowd roared with cheers.

you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavy as the whistle blew, time was up and blue lock scored the winning goal thanks to you. before you could even register your win, you were swooped off the ground by your teammates as they huddled while lifting you in the air, a tsunami of praises and congratulations was showered on you.

“hm, wait. i’ll be back.” you patted nagi’s shoulder to usher him to put you down, as he carefully placed you back on the ground.

you walked over to u-20′s players who were sitting on the grassy field, faces expressing scowls and sadness from their bitter defeat. yet, you saw sae standing unbothered as shidou was blabbering to him about some random nonsense, before noticing you approaching them.

“oh, would you look at who came to pay us a visit.” shidou sneered, giving you narrowed eyes as you shrugged.

“i'm not interested in you, blondie.” you snapped at him, making him slightly irritated by how you spoke to him.

sae didn’t want to become involved with this little feud you had going on with shidou, silently watching you both fuss and fight over today’s match. he had to admit, watching you play had riled him up.

both sexually and mentally.

the announcers were urgently instructing all players to evacuate the field as the game has been over since fifteen minutes ago. you heard your team members call your name, so you decided not to waste more time.

"before i forget to keep my promise that i made with rin.” you remembered, your lips curling upwards cheekily. you placed your index and middle finger on sae’s lips as if you were hushing him, before bringing those two fingers to tap your butt cheek.

“choo~” you smooched the air, watching sae’s jaw drop. shidou could slowly feel his blood boil and swore that if you weren’t a woman, then he would've long broke out into a fist fight with you.

"bye-bye." you waved at sae before running the opposite direction to where your friends were standing.

---

you entered the backstage of the stadium for only player entry. you were excited to finally get out of your uniform and take a cold shower after such an intense game. curious eyes were scanning for blue lock's locker room as you hummed a little tune, until someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into some room.

“what the f-” you yelped, only to have your words be muffled as the person clamped their hand over your mouth. you looked up and saw that it was sae, looking down at you with sharp teal eyes.

“well, well, well. just the person i've been waiting for.” he snarked, his voice sending chills down your spine. you realized that you were in u-20's locker room with him. your hands quickly came up to peel his hand off of your mouth.

“the hell is wrong with you? someone might come inside and get the wrong idea.” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to turn your heels and leave the bathroom. however, with one swift motion, you were now pinned against the door as sae caged you between his arms.

"you've been annoying the shit out of me ever since i've known about your existence. i've watched the recorded tapes of your mock games at blue lock and though the other players never stood out to me... you were always the odd one out. the way you'd play on the field like you had no fucking clue the hell you were doing but at the same time; it felt like you outsmarted everyone. i can't believe i fell into that trap today even after analyzing you to the core." he bitterly spat out, making you look at him with bored eyes.

"listen, mr. prodigy, i get it that this might be your first loss; but taking it out on me won't change the scores." you nonchalantly replied, somehow making his skin burn in anger even more.

"you’ve got some real talent, I’m not gonna deny that. but your little hat-tricks are a bit immature, aren’t they?” he questioned, making you shrug.

"as long as my team's winning, i don't care." you answered, making him chuckle, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly at your bold proclamation.

"hah! that’s a dangerous mindset. arrogance isn’t always a good look for a player. but i gotta admit, it fits you.” sae sneered, a smirk etched on his lips.

"confidence not arrogance, don't get it twisted." you corrected him, shooting a glare at him.

“oh, really? confidence, hm? or maybe you’re just in denial about being a little arrogant?” he continued to taunt you, making you darkly chuckle.

"go back to school and learn the difference, sae. i can tell you're lacking up here since you went to spain so early. poor you." you pouted, jabbing at his temple.

"yeah? let's talk about you, miss. yale. you wanted to become a doctor, no? only to end up as ego's puppet for blue lock. poor you." sae mocked your words, his insult made your jaw lock.

"how the fuck do you know that?" you said through gritted teeth, his face glimmering with amusement.

"i have a good sense of every player's background to know how much of a pain in my ass they're gonna be during a game." he cockily remarked, making you roll your eyes.

"oh please, you're like the soccer princess, always getting his way. you stupid dumb brat, always wanting stuff and getting it 'cause you're a lump of talent who went international as a youth. you whisked away shidou from our team, who's gonna be your next BL victim?" you scoffed, shoving him off of you to place some distance between you two.

"excuse me? that’s a bit rich coming from you. i do have talent, yes, but i’ve worked hard for it. you don’t know what i had to go through to get where i am now, so don’t act like you know everything about me." sae’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of annoyance at your harsh words.

"uh-huh. so, you cried to your management that you wouldn't play in u-20 against BL unless you could pick whichever BL player you want to join you? how lame. you think you're the best?" you asked, voice laced with irritation from how much he was pissing you off.

"i didn’t ‘cry to my management’, they just know what i have to offer. and yes, i do think i’m the best. i’ve proven it on the field time after time.” he stepped closer to you, now hovering above you with his annoyingly tall height.

damn the itoshi brothers for inheriting such good genes.

"i heard it with my own ears. when ego and your managers were having that meeting, i happened to pass by the conference room. you're quite the brat. aren't you supposed to be the older itoshi?" you poked fun at him, giggling a little at the end.

"you… you eavesdropped on the meeting? and you’re still throwing a fit? how immature can you be? it was a strategic decision and you know it. picking the right players to my advantage is part of the game. you’re just mad that i chose shidou.” sae scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mad? hah! don't make me laugh. you could have the pink tip blonde freak for all i care! listen, itoshi, i could win with or without shidou being on my team, got it? i'm damn fucking good at what i do, 'cause if i wasn't, then my ass would've been halfway across the globe by now. i'm the muse to this whole orchestra out of all you mediocre artists. strategic decision? seems more like a cry for help. what are you? five? picking and trading toys? please, give me a break. i'd rather quit soccer than have you make me your bitch." you angrily spewed at him, making his eyes narrow at your words.

sae is stunned into silence for a moment, taken aback by your fierce and fiery declaration. he takes a moment to process your words, before responding with a sharp edge to his voice.

"you got an awfully talkative mouth, huh? ever thought of putting that mouth to some good use than spewing all this bullshit?" he harshly squished your cheeks together with his hand, making you wince a little.

"sorry that i can't match your brattiness, it's not in my nature to act like a lukewarm spoiled brat." your words were slightly muffled, but it rang clear in his ears, especially the familiar word you picked up most likely from his younger brother.

"lukewarm, hm? did my shit of a little brother teach you that? you seem to be close to him, having the nerve to approach me after the game and pull that little stunt of yours to keep the so-called promise you made to him. what kinda promise? that you'd make me kiss your ass?" sae cocked an eyebrow, peering down at you as you couldn't help but count his under lashes.

"it was just a stupid joke, you don't have to act like i shoved the damn soccer ball up your ass." you rolled your eyes, making him let out a dry chuckle.

"nah, it's not that. it's just... you seem to be a woman of your words; but you're forgetting the promise you made to me." he smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion momentarily.

you tried to recall what you even said to him. when you’re on the field, you tend to spew out random shit from your mind and mouth, not thinking twice about it.

“you scored the winning goal, didn’t you?” sae helped you remember, his hands coming down to wrap around your waist before he pressed himself on you.

“i’ll call this goal ‘if i score, then sae gets to fuck this hole’, ‘kay?”

your words rang in your mind loud and clear, your eyes widening in shock as you realized what you’ve done. sae noticed you expression, his smirk widening as he knew that you were all bark and no bite.

but, that’s what made you seem more alluring to him.

“whimping out, sweetheart?” he said, a fake pout forming on his lips. what he didn’t expect is your arms wrapping around his neck before harshly pulling him towards your face. you crashed your lips on him, roughly kissing the soft-pillow like flesh.

“you said it, i’m a woman of my words, sae. besides, not everyone gets the chance to fuck the world’s best striker, y'know. so, you’re welcome.” you grinned against his lips before playfully biting down on his lower lip.

"you vixen." he whispered against your lips, warm breath fanning over yours before he locked you in another searing kiss. your fingers weaved through his soft auburn hair, following the rhythm of his lips. sae's hand was still cupping your jaw, keeping you in place as he tilted his face slightly to the side, the new angle allowing him to kiss you deeper.

you felt his thigh intrude between your legs, spreading you open as he rubbed his muscular quad against your clothed pussy. the small friction alone was providing enough stimulation to your throbbing clit that made you gasp a small moan; making him smirk against your lips before cheekily using the provided entrance to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

you felt the wet muscle gently poking yours occasionally before slowly wrapping around your tongue. the wet sounds of your mixed salivas and mingling tongues followed by the smooch noise echoed throughout the empty locker room; making your pussy drip with arousal.

your head was spinning, both from sae's intoxicating cologne along with the heated kiss. your face was flushed and your brain was practically turned into mush.

you sucked on his bottom lip before giving it a gentle nibble. the both of you soon pulled away, breathing heavy from the lack of oxygen due to the breath-taking makeout session you just had; a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips.

fuck, he looked so sexy like this.

sae's hair was dishevealed, cheeks tinted with a slight pink, teal eyes half-liddedly staring at yours like a sly siren and his lips plump from the intense kissing.

he leaned forwards, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your jawline before moving down to your neck. your mouth was slightly agape, soft whimpers ocassionally slipping out of your lips as you felt him kiss and lick the soft flesh of your neck. he gently bit down before suckling the area, making your breath hitch.

"h-hey! you're gonna leave a mark." you stuttered, but sae couldn't find it in him to care. in fact, the thought of him marking you up everywhere sent blood straight to his cock; making him impossibly even harder than he already was.

"so? i don't see the problem. what if i want all the other players to know i claimed you as mine?" he spoke in a low tone, almost as soft and alluring as a whisper. you could feel him rub the bridge of his nose against your neck; sending goosebumps all over your body.

"i don't belong to anyone." you meekly responded, though you tried to sound as stern as possible; obviously failing to do so. sae let out a dry chuckle, finding your answer a bit amusing.

"oh really? i'm hurt. you pulled out so many cool tricks from your sleeve during the game, flirted with me on the field, saying lewd things to me before scoring, promised my little brother to have me kiss your ass... all of that just for me to notice you, no?" he teased, his hands going south as he traced the outline of your hips before harshly pushing them down, making you grind against his thigh.

"f-fuck." you moaned, feeling yourself getting wetter by his actions. however, sae wasn't complaining, seeing how your facial expressions were twisting with pleasure made his mind fog up with lust.

"bet you were thinking about this while playing on the field. imagining all sort of naughty things you'd want me to do to you, hm? god, never would've expected blue lock's ace to be... such a slut." he snickered, his hands moving behinds to give your ass a firm squeeze followed by a harsh spank; making you yelp.

"i wasn't!" you tried to defend yourself, finding a convincing voice by shooing away your horny thoughts.

"you sure about that, princess?" sae grins, his hand cupping your clothed pussy before using his slender fingers to rub against your slit. he could feel your wetness, making him scoff.

"you're dripping and still have the nerve to lie to my face? there's two things i hate in this world. number one is losing and the second thing is liars; two things which you already violated. i should punish you, no?" he darkly chuckled, before pulling you back into a mind-blowing kiss.

"wha.." you tried to comprehend what his words meant, but it seemed that he preferred to show you.

"strip." sae mumbled under his breath, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you swallowed harshly, trying to clear your head and maybe push him away.

you knew this was wrong!

it was one thing teasing and riling each other up on the field, but fucking your enemy? what would your team members think if they ever found out?

holy shit, what would rin think?!

but, fuck, it felt so right.

you couldn't deny the fact that sae made you feel so hot and bothered, both on and off the field. and the way he was towering over you with his staggering height and angelic yet demanding voice.

you were under his spell; unable to resist anymore... not that you were in the first place.

you grabbed the hem of your jersey before peeling it off of your body, a small sheen of sweat covering your body made your skin glisten under the dim lights of the air-conditioned locker room. you threw your shirt to the side before sliding off your shorts; the last article of uniform meeting the same fate as your jersey on the floor.

you now stood exposed in your half-naked glory; in a pair of baby blue laced panties with a matching bra to go with it. sae's eyes followed your movements with striking anticipation, trained on your body as he shamelessly drank in the sight of your beauty.

you were perfect in every shape and form.

your body was lean and fit, lacking muscle mass unlike other players; but you were toned. his eyes focused on how your tits sat so prettily within the cups of your bra, making his hands itch to hold them instead. his eyes trailed down, being able to see your beautiful plump round ass even from the side; he wanted to touch the soft bare flesh so bad.

after all, it was his biggest fetish.

sae took slow strides towards you, predatory eyes never leaving your body as he hovered above you. he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes while his other hand danced along your spine; pulling you close to him.

you smelled so feminine and sweet; like a subtle peach scent.

"you have no idea what you do to me and it's driving me insane because i wanna ruin you." he confessed, making you give him a sly smirk.

"then what's stopping you?" you boldly replied, and it seemed as if the gears in his brain stopped working.

"damn right." without another word, he grabbed the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you up in his arms. you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms lacing around his neck as you kissed the side of his neck and peppered his face with soft kisses. he chuckled, giving your ass a light spank while walking over to the bench, sitting down while you straddled his lap.

you noticed he was still fully clothed, making you pout. he cocked an eyebrow in confusion at your expression.

"why am i the only one naked? take off your clothes too." you huffed out, making him laugh.

"how rude of me. why don't you take the honors of stripping me then, princess." he rubbed the palm of his hand along your sides, making a shiver run down your spine.

you nod obediently, you hand reaching down with fingers hooking under the hem of his jersey. you lifted the article of clothing above his head, revealing more and more of his extremely toned and muscular body with each heightened inch of the fabric. you threw away the shirt to the side, eager hands now touching the soft flesh of his bare chest. your eyes shamelessly wandered, noticing how defined his abs were, his pecs looked so juicy and plump, broad shoulders and his biceps were so fucking thick it made you wonder how it'd feel for them to lock you in a headlock.

you scooted off his lap, standing up before grabbing his wrist to pull him off the bench and follow your steps. you grabbed the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down; now leaving him in his calvin klein boxers; your eyes going down and noticing the prominent bulge inbetween his thick muscular thighs.

fuck, you just knew he was long and thick from how big the bulge was.

your mouth was salivating, wanting... no, needing a taste of him. you were about to drop down to your knees, only to be halted by sae as he grabbed your hands.

"not yet. bad girls don't deserve my cock in their mouth without paying for their punishment first." sae grinned, pulling you back on the bench as he sat down.

"bend over." he blurted, patting his thigh. your eyes widened, wondering just what was up his sleeve.

you gulped, crawling over his lap as you used the palm of your hands to support you, as you were now bent over his thighs. his palm gently caressed the dome of your ass, you shuddered as you felt his feather-like touches.

"what a beautiful ass you have, darling." he lewdly complimented, making your knees weak as your panties dampened from his words.

"t-thanks.." you squealed when you felt a tight slap on your cheek, making you jolt. sae smirked at your reaction, squeezing the abused flesh afterwards.

"i knew you were gonna be an interesting player, just by the shape of this pretty little ass of yours." sae spoke in a seductive tone, making you clear your throat as you looked back at him.

"seems more like an excuse for you to be a pervert." you snarked, earning another harsh spank on your ass cheek; making you wince.

"careful with that mouth of yours, princess. pervert or not, yours is hard to miss when you're flaunting it to me." he scoffed, groping the supple fat in his palms.

"now, let's see how much you really know about me." sae smirks before leaning down to press a gentle kiss on your ass; making you gasp at the soft gesture.

"huh?" you breathed out.

"what's the number on my jersey?" he suddenly questioned, making you give him a puzzled look.

"10." you responded, making him smile.

"good, that's exactly how many times i'm gonna spank this sweet ass of yours. so, better keep count in case i accidentally miscount." sae sadistically smirked at you, playfully biting your ass cheek before giving it a wet smooch; making you tremble and his ministrations didn't even start.

you were facing away from him, heart pounding in your chest and then came the first impact.

smack!

it was a tight spank, making your body jolt as the pain spread into a sadistic pleasure across your body.

"one." you muttered, swallowing down a moan.

"keep hiding your moans and i'll double it." he threatened, making your eyes widen as you shook your head.

then came the second slap, making your thighs clench as the impact sent shock-waves right between your legs. you whimpered in pain and pleasure, closing your eyes as your knees shook beneath you. god, you were aching for him to touch you, even if it meant this.

"t-two." you breathed out.

"good." sae teasingly praised, rubbing his palm on the now warm surface of your ass cheek, making you shake.

but, it didn't last long until the third spank came down on you.

then the fourth... fifth... sixth... seventh... eighth... ninth...

each slap getting slightly louder and harder, making you moan like a bitch in heat as your skin tingled from the harsh impact. you were heaving, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to muster the strength to keep yourself lifted and not collapse on his thighs.

"last one, gotta make it count, right?" you could feel him sadistically smirk, patting the bruised flesh.

sae slapped your ass once more, making you gasp as you felt him squeeze the supple fat of your cheek right afterwards before giving it a few gentle spanks all around; making you cry out.

"ten!" you cried, looking back at him with a dazed look, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

sae took a moment to drink in the sight in front of him. your back arched, ass in his face as the bruised red-plump flesh was warm against the palm of his hand, your begging face and disheaveled state; it made him wanna toy around with you even more.

"what a good girl you are, y/n." he peppered feather like kisses on your ass, making you bite your lips as you tried to contain yourself.

"please.. please, stop teasing. i-i can't anymore." you embarrassingly begged him, making him grin.

"you can't? how unfortunate. i guess we should stop then." sae suddenly proclaimed, shrugging as he pulled you up to sit on the bench, the cold material of the hard wood making contact with your warm spanked ass made you wince as it stung. but, you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep, stopping him.

"n-no! that's not what i meant." you licked your lips, crawling back on his lap as you kissed his jaw.

"then tell me what you want, princess." he whispered in your ear, playfully biting your earlobe, sending chills all over your body.

"touch me... i want you to touch me, sae. i need you so bad." you cupped his face, looking into his glimmering teal eyes. it was a bad habit, but you couldn't help but count his damn under lashes.

"yeah? want me to play with that naughty pussy of yours, hm? bet she's dripping for me." he lewdly spoke, making you nod as your brain was no longer in your head but your pussy.

"m-mhm, so wet for you, sae. need you to touch it, pretty please?" you kissed his neck, before giving it a gentle bite followed by a teasing kitten lick.

"okay, since you asked so nicely, cariño." sae gave you a boyish smile, the spanish term of endearment slipping off his tongue so seductively.

he placed his hands on the sides of your waist, gently turning you around so that your back was against his chest. sae leaned down, kissing down your neck till he reached your collarbone, licking your skin before biting down gently.

you gasped, your hand going behind his head to find purchase in his hair. his hands came up, roughly pushing the cups of your bra down, making your tits spill out. his eyes widened, mouth salivating at the site of your perky nipples swelling from being neglected.

"you're driving me insane." sae cursed under his breath, his hands now cupping your tits as he gave them both a gentle squeeze. you moaned from the sudden fondling, breathing becoming irregular.

he rolled your buds between his index and thumb, giving them both a slight pinch; making you swallow hard. you squirmed in his hold, getting a bit antsy.

"patience." he warned, making you whine.

sae's slender fingers moved down, ghosting along your hips before hooking under the waistband of your panties. with one swift motion, he pulled the laced fabric down your legs, lightly throwing them to the side.

your breath hitched at the sudden exposure, cold air hitting you right between your legs, making you automatically clench your thighs together. however, your actions displeased the auburn haired male, making him slap your thigh.

"you want me to touch you or no? spead your legs, girl." sae commanded, making you shyly widen the gap, but not fast enough as his patience was wearing thin.

he opened his legs a little wider, forcing your own to follow in suit as your legs were drapped over his. a satisfied smirk ghosted on his lips as he peered down.

"spread your lips open, cariño, let me see her." sae took your hand, guiding it to your wet cunt.

you followed his order, using your index and middle finger to spread your pussy open, making him shamelessly look at the mess between your legs. your wetness was coating your slit, webbing on your sopping folds as he could see your swollen clit peaking out.

"hmm... beautiful, such a pretty pussy. give her a little spank." he kissed the side of your head, your eyes widening at his request.

"huh?" you stammered, making him glare at you.

"go on, spank her. 'cause if i do it, then it won't stop at one." sae threatened, making you swallow the lump in your throat. your hand shakily hovered above your dripping cunt before giving it a wet slap, making you jolt from the impact, a moan escaping your throat.

"another one." he egged further, and you followed.

"ngh, sae." you slurred out his name, leaning against his chest as your heart raced.

his hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side to give him access to your lips. sae crashed his lips onto yours, knocking the wind from your lungs. his free hand trailed downwards, grazing against your hand that was inbetween your thighs.

sae replaced your fingers with his, the pad of his index finger gently caressing your clit. you moaned in his mouth, feeling his finger run up and down your wet slit. he began to rub your clit at a leisurely pace, making your eyes roll back from the stimulation.

he was so good at multitasking, ensuring that his lips continued to mold onto yours; tongues dancing in a fierce battle. he sucked and licked your lips, not giving you time to breathe.

without warning, you felt the tip of his finger brushing against your hole. you gasped, feeling it protrude in the tight opening.

"s-sae!" you moaned out his name, feeling him thrust his finger in, your warm wet walls clamping down on his digit.

"shit, you're so tight. how you gonna fit the real deal, princess?" he chuckled, thrusting his finger back and forth to loosen you up before adding a second one.

you didn't really have a long history of sexual partners, you weren't a virgin, but your experience in sex was still pretty lowly average. of course, you'd masturbate and get yourself off.

but, you never really had the chance to do it after entering blue lock because privacy was very limited when you're sharing rooms and bathrooms with other players.

sae scissored his fingers in and out, your slippery walls making it a little easier for him to glide his digits inside. the room was filled with the wet sounds of him fucking his fingers into your hole; your legs trembling and you breathed heavily while moaning his name.

"sae! f-fuck, oh my god... hnghh-" you felt his pace increase, his free hand massaging your tits, pinching the neglected pebble.

the whole scene looked like something straight out of a porno.

you're spread out on his lap, his hand inbetween your thighs as three of his fingers were working their way fucking in and out of your messy whole, your juices leaking out onto the bench, tits splayed out while being fondled with his hand; while his lips ocassionally pulled you into sloppy kisses.

"w-wait! fuck, it's too much!" you cried out, your hand shooting down to grab at his wrist, but the pressure you applied was nothing compared to his strength.

"you can take it. come on, cariño, make a mess for me." sae encouraged, keeping the brutal pace of his fingers as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. you felt the tightening sensation in your core, face heating up as your eyes shut tight; knees growing week as you cried out in pleasure.

what both you and sae didn't expect was that you squirted everywhere.

"there we go." he praised, slowly thrusting his digits in and out now, his hand drenched in your juices which were now dripping down your thighs and onto the bench.

"god damn..." you mumbled under your breath, trying to calm down from the high. you were still dazed out, feeling the loss of contact as he pulled his finger out; wet and webbed with your cum as you looked up at him.

sae gave you a sly smirk, bringing his cum covered fingers to his lips before pushing them in his mouth, sucking your juices off. your eyes widened at his actions.

"so sweet." he commented, watching your eyes cloud with lust.

"have a taste, princess." sae's fingers cupped your wet cunt, running his fingers against your slit to get them wet again, making you wimper as he grazed against your sensitive clit. he brought his hand up to your lips, watching you open your mouth as he shoved his fingers in, pressing his digits down on your tongue while you suckled them; tasting yourself.

"you're so cute when your mouth isn't yapping nonstop. i knew we could put that mouth to some better use." he snickered from above you, making you roll your eyes and you playfully bit down on his fingers.

"heh, as expected... always so feisty." he grinned, leaning down to press a soft yet teasing kiss on your lips. you smirked into the kiss, a cheeky finger going down to hook under the waistband of his boxers, slinging it against his stomach; earning a groan from his lips.

"off." you blurted out, making him chuckle.

"eager are we?" he taunted, watching you stand up and wait for him to slip out of his boxers.

once he did, god, you weren't expecting any less.

you oggled at the sight, he was fucking hung to say the least; standing at least a good eight inches. his cock was long and thick, balls hanging heavy and his blush colored tip oozed with beads of precum. your mouth watered and without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees.

your hand was barely able to wrap around his girth, holding onto his hard cock firmly. you saw his jaw clench, shuddering under your touch as you began to slide your hands up and down his shaft. you thumbed at leaky tip, spreading the oozing precum before bringing your thumb up to your lips, licking it while looking up at the gorgeous man before you.

"fuckin' tease." sae grumbled, his hand pushing away the loose strands of hair cascading on your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a good look at your pretty face. he unclasped your bra before throwing it over to the side, hating how it was getting in the way.

a single vein ran up the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing its outline before wrapping your lips around the tip of his dick. your tongue circled around the sensitive flesh before shoving more of his length down your throat. a guttural moan escaped his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your head closer.

"fuckkkk... just like that, pretty girl." he groaned out, looking down at you bobbing up and down his hard cock. of course, he was so big that you couldn't fit all of it in your mouth. so, whatever was left behind, you made sure to have your hand do the pleasing.

sae felt like his dick was gonna burst any moment, never feeling this kind of intense pleasure before; and he's had his fair share of experience with women.

but you? no, you were different.

you knew how to push his buttons, how to rile him up, how to toy with him... fuck, you knew him.

the way you twisted your hands along the base of his shaft, fondling with his balls ocassionally, while your mouth was doing wonders. the way your wet muscle suckled and licked his tip, your throat tightening as you swallowed his dick; it drove him to the edge.

"god, you're so perfect. so good, s-shit, i'm gonna cum." sae moaned, grabbing the sides of your head as he began to thrust his hips forwards, throat fucking you. your eyes widened, grabbing onto his thighs as you tried to match his rhythm, gagging on his length as tears welled in your eyes.

"fuck, fuck, fuck! take it, shit, take it all." he breathed heavily, pushing your mouth as far as you could take him, holding you there as his cock twitched in your mouth; sticky white ropes of cum painting your throat.

you swallowed as much as you could, releasing his cock with a lewd pop, but he wasn't done cumming.

fuck, he cums so much.

sae jerked his cock on top of your face, the warm liquid coating your cheeks as you closed your eyes, some of it dripping down to the valley between your tits.

you opened your eyes with a fucked out expression, lazily smirking as you scooped some of his cum from your tits before sucking it off your finger. sae watched you with his mouth slightly open, his slightly limp cock now hardening again.

"god, you dirty fuckin' girl." he lowly chuckled, using his thumb to smear his cum on your cheek before scooping some and placing his thumb on your tongue.

"yummy." you giggled, licking his thumb.

"c'mere." sae pulled you up, tapping the underside of your thigh to usher you to jump. you followed, feeling his arms hooking under your thighs to securely hold you; your legs wrapped around his waist and arms wrapped around his neck.

you felt his dick sliding between your folds, making you whimper as he walked further inside the locker room towards where the showers were. he opened one of the stalls, stepping in before locking the door behind him.

sae turned on the water, the warm water running down both of your bodies. his hands came up to cup your face, slowly washing away your cum-stained face as his fingers gently rubbed against your skin.

"you're so pretty, princess. even when you're covered in my cum." sae smirked, making you chuckle.

"yeah?" you smiled, a soft blush creeping up to your cheeks. he hummed in response, leaning down to press soft kisses on the wet skin of your tits, before popping one of them in his mouth.

"sae.." you softly breathed out, pulling him closer as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, suckling gently while cupping your ass.

"okay, no more of these games. i need you, y/n." he confessed, releasing your nipple from his mouth before pinning you on the wall. sae lifted one of your thighs, taking a hold of his cock as he began to rub the tip of it along your slit.

"fuckkk.." you cursed, the delicious feeling on his tip brushing against your clit provided you with so much pleasurable stimulation. despite the warm water, sae could feel your slick coating his cock with every push and grind of his meaty cock between your glistening folds.

the tip of his dick poked at your entrance, making your breath hitch. sae began to slowly push the tip in, making you wince in pain as he released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"g-god, you gotta relax, cariño. you're so damn tight." sae groaned, gently thrusting his tip in and out of your hole. you moaned against the flesh of his neck, pleasure pumping in your veins. suddenly, he pulled out completely before with one swift and hard thurst; ramming in his whole length, making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"shhh... it's okay, pretty girl. look at you taking me so well, how slutty." he reassured you in the most lewd way possible, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he began to quicken the pace of his thrusts. you could feel his cock swelling with blood inside your velvety slick walls, the single vein deliciously rubbing your insides.

"nghh, sae! f-faster, please." you begged, your mind clouded in a fucked out haze as you couldn't even form coherent sentences. however, sae was equally as consumed in pleasure as you, giving into your requests as his grip on you was firm, fucking into you at a brutal speed.

the room was filled by gasping breaths, the wet slapping noises of skin going pap! pap! pap! and of course the combined harmonization of you two horny fucks moaning.

suddenly, the locker room door flung open, followed by the noisy chatter of his teammates.

your eyes widened as you looked at sae, who had stopped his movement and had an almost copy-paste expression as you.

"huh? the shower is still going." aiku took note as footsteps drew closer to the showers.

red alarms went off in both of your heads as sae quickly lifted you in his arms, trying to erase the evidence of having another person in the stall with him.

"who's in there?" sendo asked, making sae roll his eyes.

"it's me, you half-witted monkey." sae calmly replied, rolling his eyes when he heard aiku cackle at his comment.

"no wonder why we missed you, little genius." aiku teased, making sae huff out in annoyance.

you were praying to god that they left soon because you were still quite literally impaled on sae's hard cock, clinging onto him for dear life so that your legs aren't spotted beneath the stall.

"you think you're so high and mighty, huh? mr. prodigy. but, just so you know, i've been a long-term player on this team and i've devised many plans with aiku! so have some respect." sendo snickered, his voice echoing in the locker room.

you felt sae shift, his cock rubbing against your walls from the movement making you bite down on your lower lip to contain the moan that was itching to leave your throat. he noticed, an evil smirk tugging at his lips.

"yeah? and what good was brought during today's game under your useless leadership?" sae taunted, now rocking his hips back and forth, lightly swinging you forwards as your eyes widened at his movements.

the tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot, making your eyes screw shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"what did you say to me, you freak?! the scores of today's game was out of our control! nobody could've predicted that weird girl's movements." sendo complained, anger projecting towards you.

"blaming your incompetence on someone else's skills is not a good look, captain's ass-kisser. maybe you should look at your own faults before dragging person b." he defended your name, continuing to thrust in you slow but hard, making you bite down on his shoulder as your nails dug in his back.

sae let out a low breathy moan, which was muffled under the sound of the pouring shower; only allowing you to hear it by your ear.

"hey, hey, stop. no more fighting, guys. what's done is done, we can't change the scores. that girl has some powerful talent, no one can deny it; and it must be true if the prodigy himself admits it. anyways, we're gonna be on the bus, so finish your shower soon." aiku mediated and soon the both of them left as their footsteps disappeared; the locker room door slamming shut.

you lifted your head and faced the older itoshi, a glare shooting at him. however, he didn't seem to be bothered as he gave you a small grin.

"you think this is funny?! your team members were literally on the other side of this stall door, sae! we could've gotten caught." you nagged, making him roll his eyes.

"relax, they didn't see anything. now, let's continue where we left off." he settled you down, his dick slipping out of you as he turned you around. your tits were now pressed against the wall, his flushes body pressed against your back as you felt him grind his cock against your ass, a cheeky hand coming down to grope the supple fat before giving it a small slap.

"p-put it in." you whined, still a bit pissed off from getting cockblocked by his stupid team members.

sae chuckled at your impatience, but decided to not tease you on it. in one fluid motion, he thrusted his cock inside your wet hole.

"hnghh.. sae.." you moaned, feeling him fondling with your tits while pressing feather light kisses on the expanse of your shoulder. his thrusts were much more sharper and faster than before as he grew desperate to chase that feeling before you both got walked-in on.

your cunt was wet and dripping onto his shaft, the sheer length of his thick cock was gliding smoothly in and out of your warm walls. sae could feel you clamp down on him, hugging his dick as he continued to fuck you at a brutal pace.

"fuckkk, feels so good." he moaned next to your ear, his hand coming up to cup your face and tilt it back, leaning down to pull you into a sloppy kiss full of tongue and the clash of teeth.

his tip grazed your g-spot, making your knees tremble as you cried out in pleasure. your core tightened, feeling his cock twitching in your pussy, indicating that he was close.

"shit, gonna cum... you want that? want me to fill you up? stuff you to the brim and make you my bitch?" sae groaned, pressing ocassional kisses on the sides of your jaw.

"yes! yes! fuck, please, make me your bitch. cum inside of me!" you begged, face contorting in pleasure as you began to see white, eyes screwed shut as you panted.

you were so close, feeling like you were gonna burst. sae's free hand came down, rubbing your clit to add onto the stimulation, making you shake.

"cum for me, cariño." he whispered as he continued to fuck into you, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing throughout the showers. a guttural moan ripped out of your throat as you creamed all over his cock, drenching his shaft in your fluids before feeling him momentarily speed up his thrusts; sending you into overstimulation. a ring of white cream forming at the base of his dick.

"s-sae! too much, oh my-" you cried out, before feeling his warm and sticky cum coating your walls, fucking it deep inside you. the sensation alone was enough to make chills run down your spine. sae held you close, his grip on your firm and tight as he held you in place, sloppily and lazily shoving his cum deeper into your wet cunt.

"fuck... god damn, you're something." he panted, swallowing hard before pulling you into a soft kiss.

yeah, scoring that goal was definitely worth it.

---

after you both cleaned up and finished actually showering, you realized that all your shit was in the locker room designated for blue lock. you sighed in annoyance as you stepped out of the stall, body wrapped in a towel as sae was still naked with only a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

"i'm so screwed. i don't even have my clothes to wear back outside." you grumbled, making him look in your direction.

"blue lock's locker room is right next door, just run there." sae suggested, making you roll your eyes.

"wow, thank you so much, genius. there's like cameras everywhere in the halls and my team members might still be there." you rolled your eyes, hearing him chuckle.

"yeah, then i guess you are screwed." he smirked, making you glare at him.

"and who's fault is that?"

"not mine."

"you pulled me in here and actually screwed me. now i'm double screwed, you horny fuck!"

"and? don't say you didn't want it as bad as i did."

"well at least i have self-control."

"right, says the one who was slobbing on my dick."

"sae!"

your face was now covered in a blush from his crude words, watching him dry his body before reaching for his clothes. you took this as an opportunity to slap his ass.

spank!

"did you just-" his jaw dropped, looking at you with wide eyes as you stood there giggling.

"serves you right." you stuck out your tongue and you saw his eyes darken as an evil smirk tugged on his lips.

"oh, so you wanna play like that, huh? seems like ten wasn't enough for you? c'mere." he began to walk closer to you, making your heart drop as you quickly clutched onto your towel and ran as fast as you could out of the locker room; faintly hearing his chuckle echoing behind you.

"fucking psycho." you breathed out in slight fear, the door slamming behind you as you walked towards blue lock's locker room. that was until-

"oh, y/n! what are you doing out here?" anri's voice rang clear in your head as she stepped out of blue lock's locker room. you began to panic, what the hell were you supposed to say?!

"o-oh, anri! what are you doing here?" you nervously laughed, making her cock an eyebrow.

"i was doing a final check and realized everyone else is on the bus except you. mind telling me what's going on?" she pointed her pen at your clearly naked form.

"o-oh, yeah, uhm. our locker room was full 'cause the guys were showering, so i decided to use u-20's since their team started loading their buses first and it was empty." you explained and just because god's timing had to be so precise; sae fucking walked out.

he noticed you getting interrogated, thinning his lips to prevent himself from laughing his ass of at you.

you noticed him from the corner of your vision, glaring at him as he snorted. anri saw him, the both of them doing a mutual bow before he left, looking back you with a smirk.

that fucking piece of sh-

"y/n?" anri called out again.

"h-huh?" you refocused yourself on her.

"then why are you still naked?" she asked.

"ah, right, i forgot to take my clothes with me." you tried to sound as convincing as possible.

"uh-huh. and i suppose those marks are from the game?" she smirked, pointing her pen at your chest and neck, heat rushing to your face.

"a-anri, i can explain! it's not what you think, i promise." you horribly lied, making her chuckle.

"right... anyways, go get changed and meet us on the bus. by the way, that was an amazing goal. blue lock couldn't have won without you. so, yeah, you deserved to treat yourself." anri winked at you, making you internally scream in embarrassment.

she was your manager for fucks sake!

"ahahah, right... i'm gonna go get dressed. see you in a bit." you quickly excused yourself to get dress.

fuck you, sae itoshi.

literally.

---

after returning back to the blue lock facility, you were drained both from the game earlier and your little session with the soccer prodigy. all the players were called in the conference hall as ego gave his motivational speeches along with announcing the international teams everyone will be assigned to.

"oh, shit. bastard munchen? that's in germany, no? pretty cool, isagi." you commented, making him chuckle.

"yeah, i'm so excited! noel noa is on that team, he's my favorite." isagi eagerly replied, making you smile.

you watched your name appear on the screen and right below you was bachira.

"oh, we're gonna be together, y/n! fc barcha in spain." bachira exclaimed as he high-fived you, happy to have a close friend go with him.

"spain? oh shit..." you gulped, realizing that you'll be seeing more than just one familiar face there.

meanwhile...

"sae! sit down, have some refreshments." sae's manager smiled, his voice dripping with money hunger as the auburn hair male rolled his eyes.

"i literally just got off my flight, i couldn't even take a fucking piss yet." he grumbled, sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. the poor auburn haired male was tired and it didn't help that he had to sit inbetween the most annoying fucking people ever to exist: sendo and aiku.

unfortunately, while you both were too busy in hornyland, it completely slipped out of both his and your mind that both his clothes and your clothes were scattered on the floor.

so, in short, yeah; they both knew you two were fucking in the showers.

"hey, since when did you wear baby blue laced panties under your uniform, little genius?"

"what?"

"your shit was all over the floor along with a pair of bra and panties, dumbass. you fucked that crazy chick from blue lock, didn't you?!"

"well, you know, your contract is expiring soon with new gen xl. you'll be renewing it, right?" the old man nervously laughed, making sae sigh.

"well, no shit. but you could've waited a few more days or something." sae snatched the paper from the table, clicking the pen and before signing, the old fat man said something that caught his ears.

"well, you know, you got an offer to play under fc barcha. they're adding members of blue lock in that team to prepare for the u-20 world cup." he informed, making sae look up in curiosity.

"blue lock members? do you know who?" sae asked, now wanting to know more.

"ah, well, i don't have the list on the top of my head. but, i know the girl that scored the winning goal for the last game is playing on the team. shit, sorry for bringing that up." the man apologized, realizing that the topic of losing might still be a small wound on the prodigy.

but, sae couldn't be bothered any less. a smirk ghosted on his lips as he threw his pen on the table.

"cancel it." sae declared, ripping the contract in his hand, making his manager's eyes widen.

"s-sae! what are you doing?!" the man panicked, not understanding where this sudden change in heart was coming from.

"i'm accepting the offer to play in fc barcha."

---

you were just about to get comfortable in your bed, though the annoying sound of nagi's snoring was ticking you off. nonetheless, your body was too tired and drained to pay too much mind to such small things.

that was until your phone buzzed.

"the fuck.." you huffed in annoyance, grabbing the device before unlocking it, seeing that it was a message from an unknown number. a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes widened when reading it.

unknown number: see you in fc barcha, cari��o.

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mv1simp · 3 months ago

Text

Based on darling 🍑 🛒 anon’s request: max x inexperienced best friend!reader who hears him complaining about how hard it is to find a girl who’ll match his freak in bed 😼

Birthday Sex ♥️

Max Verstappen x Best Friend!Reader

don’t need candles or cake, just need your body to make (birthday sex, it’s the best day of the year, girl)

As Max’s best friend since childhood, you know him better than anyone. You’re determined to find the best birthday gift after he’s outdone you the past three years. Just when you’ve given up all hope of beating him you overhear him complaining that none of his recent girlfriends let him hit it just the way he likes. Bingo - you’ve just thought of the perfect gift!

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom!max, inexperienced best friend!reader who gets railed lol, size kink, anal, creampie, sloppy drunk sex!!, WC 3.3k

You slump your head down on the table and groan, making your best friend Selena quirk as brow at you as she sips her strawberry iced matcha. Across the room, the elderly librarian scowls and points to the sign clearly labelled “University Library - Quiet Zone for Finals Study”. You roll your eyes and drag Selena away to some dusty bookshelf’s well away from the old crone. You still haven’t found a present for Max? Your friend muses as she noisily slurps her drink, eyeing the dubious titles on the ancient books. Shaking your head, you whine about how you’ve spent weeks thinking of what to gift the F1 driver. You and Max have been best friends since childhood, having grown up literally 2 doors down from one another. After getting over the initial boy/girl germs phase, you’d both connected over a like for video games which had turned into a loyal and supportive friendship into teens and adulthood. And of course, you both strongly believed in work hard, play hard, and frequently would be seen doing multiple shots together out in the Monaco clubs after a race weekend or post exam season.

Despite all the time you’d spend together, things had never crossed the line past friendship. It was always heavily speculated in the media, of course, as well as constant teasing from the other paddock members and your friends and family, but both you and Max dismissed it. He treated you like one of his guy friends, inviting you over to game or come onto his private jet with his other mates to fly out for a race weekend. And of course, being good friends with a millionaire driver meant being spoilt, especially on your birthday. Max always picked up on your hints and outdid himself every year. Last birthday you’d had not one but two custom made jewellery sets delivered from Cartier when you’d mentioned them in passing, and the year before that unlimited VIP box seats to your favourite soccer team and access to his private jet to get you there.

So that’s why you’re desperate to find Max the perfect present for his birthday this year. You want to spoil him just like he spoils you! But he’s been busy with his new girlfriend, a Spanish model he met in St Tropez, and you in the final semester of your English Lit degree and you haven’t had a chance to hear what’s he’s been interested in lately.

You’ve thought up countless ideas, but what do you get a man who literally can afford anything he wants? You’ve cycled through all of his likes, finding that he already owns everything you could possibly buy. Your friend Serena is useless as she watches you plead up at the ceiling (dramatic, sure, but desperate times call for desperate measures) asking for any Gods watching above to send you a sign of the right gift. You could always just get him a vibrator, she joked as she slurped her iced coffee. You know, like the one I got you? Have you been using it? Seriously, we need to end this dry spell and get you dicked down- At that point the old crone of a librarian had let out a scandalised gasp as she overheard and kicked the pair of you out.

You’ve almost given up completely and drop by his apartment a few days before his birthday, ready to just directly beg him to tell you what he wants and put you out of your misery. You let yourself in, already familiar with his spare key hiding location for years. And then you stumble across a conversation that’s not meant for your ears as Max’s deep voice carries around the corner. He’s on video chat with one of his mates playing an e-sim racing game, but they’re definitely not talking about racing strategy.

I don’t know mate, why is it so hard these days to find a chick who’ll let you hit it raw? one of his friends complain over the speakers. Your eyes widen, hand rushing up to stifle your gasp as you realise they’re talking about what they like in the bedroom. You and Max had never talked about something like this, and you’re about to turn and leave - when your best friend says something you’d never expected him to say. He snorts, murmuring that sure, getting to finish inside was good but the real challenge was convincing a girl to let you fuck her up the ass.

His friend laughs on the screen, wholeheartedly agreeing, saying Ah, I see even a F1 driver can’t find a girlfriend who’s into that freaky shit, huh? You miss Max’s reply because his cats, Sassy and Jimmy, have started to walk over to you curiously. You hightail it out of his apartment, desperate not to get caught eavesdropping with your blushing face and jumbled thoughts. You only let yourself calm down once you’re in the safety of your much smaller apartment, sinking into your sofa and recounting what you’d heard. You and Max had never ever talked about sex, even though he treated you like his guy friends, that was a line you’d just never crossed. You’d never have guessed he was into something so naughty like not using protection or…what had he said? Up the ass?

You’re not 100% sure on what he means, with your rather…limited sexual experiences. While Max regularly slept with multiple different flings and models, your hook ups could be counted on one hand. You’d lost your virginity, of course, to an awkward college boyfriend that Max had hated and eventually told you to break up with. But apart from a few sloppy handjobs or quick drunk blowjobs, you really hadn’t explored much else. You were jealous of how much more experienced Max was than you, having sometimes overheard him and his latest girlfriend celebrating a race win from a neighbouring hotel room. But it looked like despite all of the girls he’d been with, he wasn’t getting the satisfaction he wanted in bed. And apparently what satisfied the Dutch Lion was fucking girls who let him take the condom off or use their ass to his liking.

Determined to find out more about what exactly Max wanted, you open the private browser of your laptop and type in a porn site you’d looked at a couple times before. You navigate to the tags, scrolling until you see the category you wanted to research. As you wait for the top trending video in the #Anal section to load you bite your lip, suddenly nervous. Why did Max say he wanted that? It sounded dirty and painful and just wrong. Was there something you were missing?

Then the video started playing and within seconds you’d lost any inhibitions you had. Hypnotised, you watch the screen where a small, tan skinned girl is face down and ass up, with a much larger man running his tongue obscenely through her asscheeks. She’s moaning wantonly, clearly enjoying it, and then his sizeable dick is bouncing out against her bum, messily pounding her pussy first, and then - and then-

Your doe eyes widen, fixed on the laptop with a gasp as his tip slides past her pussy and into her other hole, the one you hadn’t even known could fit a guy’s dick inside it! You’re enraptured, not wanting to blink as you watch her asshole get completely ruined. Your lace thong is rapidly soaked by your wetness as you start panting, finding yourself turned on in a way you’d never ever been before. This is what your Maxie liked? It was so hot, you think sluttily, shamelessly slipping your tiny manicured fingers into your panties to finger yourself at the forbidden thought of you and Max acting out the activities in the video. You cum far too quickly, head tossed back in pleasure. Afterwards, you know you should feel embarrassed and guilty, but instead all you can think about is how badly you want to try having sex with your other tight hole.

And you know exactly what to gift your best friend. Max deserves to get exactly what he wants, after all.

Soon you’re watching dirty video after video every night, telling yourself you need to practise the positions and expressions yourself. But really you’re just addicted to the moaning of girls getting their asses abused by huge cocks, or having the coy smirks wiped off their faces and instead rolling their eyes back as their pussies are pumped full of cum. The bullet vibrator Serena had gifted you as a joke now finds itself making its way in between your dripping thighs, as you cum nightly to the fantasy of being able to provide Max with that pleasure. If his latest girlfriend of the month wasn’t willing to put out for him, you certainly had no problem helping your best friend out instead.

You make sure you’re ready by the time his birthday party rolls around, being celebrated in style aboard his yacht that’s docked in Ibiza tonight. You’ve chosen your outfit carefully, a tight red minidress that shows off your plump ass and tits, complete with strappy high heels. It highlights your ample curves, very different from his usual fling’s stick thin figures. And speaking off - you knew that he must have broken it off with his latest girlfriend judging by the fact that she wasn’t here tonight. Your suspicions are confirmed when a mutual friend tells you he dumped her just two days ago, citing a difference in personalities. More like a difference in kinky preferences, you thought deviously. You just needed to confirm that Max was willing to cross the line of no return in your friendship. Judging from the way his gaze had turned dark and hungry when he’d seen you step onto his boat, roaming over your figure, you were pretty confident that you’d be able to proceed in unveiling your gift.

As the party continues well into the night, you join everyone in dancing and drinking, using the tequila shots as an excuse to why you’re suddenly grinding your fat ass back into Max’s crotch amidst the crowded makeshift dancefloor. When you hear Max laugh in delight, strong hands possessively curling around your hips to keep you against him, you know he wanted you, too.

So when the last of the partygoers are heading off the yacht to join the others in the Ibiza clubs, you take Max’s hand in yours to tug him away, back onto the other side of the yacht where you’re well away from anyone’s eyes and facing the night ocean. He willingly goes, checking out your curvy ass from behind, his own face flushed from the drinks he’d had. You’re tipsily giggling that he had to open your present! as you gently push him onto the outdoor couch, plucking your cutely wrapped small gift box and offering it to him. As he opens it, you eagerly sit down by his side, pressing in close to his warm, toned chest with the excuse of its cold, Maxie.

You don’t miss how his gaze drops to your plush tits, which bounce with every movement and show off your hardened nipples as you’d chosen to only wear a skimpy lace bralette underneath. He easily plays along with your excuse, wrapping his thick arm around you to pull you onto his lap and settle against his broad figure. You giggle again when he finally opens the gift box, only to find it…empty? He looks up at you, laughing as he assumed you’d forgotten to pack your present in your drunk antics tonight.

But the plan in your mind is razor sharp as you breathily press kisses to his stubbled cheeks, making his lustful gaze flicker to your lips as the tension between you two grows. You whisper that you hadn’t forgotten, in fact, you’d gotten him the perfect gift, exactly what he’d been complaining to his gaming friends about not being able to find. The present was just inside you, was all!

Max is still adorably confused, not entirely sure what you were referring to as you slide off his lap after pressing a barely there kiss to his lips. He watches you curiously as you press your blushing cheeks into the sofa and stick your thick ass up in the air. Your already tiny minidress slides down your hips, exposing your soaked, lacey thong that barely covered the true surprise - a cute heart shaped butt plug. Max’s jaw drops and for a minute he thinks he must be dreaming, or had gotten super drunk, or this was some sick joke his friends had set him up for. Until you seductively jiggle your hips at him, fat ass bouncing, your sweet voice almost innocently asking if he likes his gift?

Oh, I fucking love it, sweetheart he assures you with a wicked grin, once he realises just what you were giving him. It’s so much better than anything I could have asked for. Your pleased giggle quickly turns into pleased moans as he plays with the toy, teasing you by slowly pulling it out a bit before sliding it back in. He pulls his raging erection out of his pants, telling you to come here and suck me off, getting his cock ready to fuck you. You obediently lick up and down his length, covering it with your messy drool and lip gloss, making sure it’s as wet as possible. His muscular neck is thrown back against the sofa as he moans above you, a strong hand tangled through your curls as he tries to control the pace but can't resist your talented mouth teasing his over sensitive tip. He almost cums from your enthusiasm, hips stuttering and he swears in dutch as he has to forcefully pull on your dark locks to move your plush lips off him. You cheekily grin up at him, winking, asking was that too much for him?

He tosses you around in half a second, making you giggle into the soft pillow as he raises your ass into the air, growling that he’d have done this a long time ago if he knew what a needy slut you secretly were. You shake your hips enticingly at him, ass bouncing, enjoying how his sexy voice got even deeper and accented when he was dirty talking. Swearing at your tempting display, he delivers a strong smack to your cheeks, and then a second one for good measure, before nudging his cockhead up against your dripping slit. He hushes your whines, telling you that he needed to get a taste of your pussy, the one he’d been dreaming about when you’d stay the night after a late movie and rub your ass into his erection in your sleep, edging him for hours. Did you even know how many times he had to go jerk off to the mental image of your ass in the shower?

You moan in pleasure as he fucks you sloppily, whispering about the time he hadn’t been able to resist and pulled your panties down in your sleep, wanting to jerk off to the real thing and leaving his cum all over your caramel skin. Th-that’s soo hot, Maxie you whine, already feeling fucked out of your mind. Go-go on, cum instead me, you say breathlessly. I started the pill just for your present tonight!

Groaning at your naughty confession, he pumps one last, deep thrust before he's tensing above you, a bruising grip on your hips as he holds you still to drain his load deep inside you. He's panting deeply as his head comes to rest on the back of your neck, the two of you enjoying your blissful comedown together for a few minutes. You can’t believe how heated things have gotten tonight after being friends for years. We could have been hooking up this whole time, it was so good Maxiee you whine against his lips as he presses his tongue into your pouting mouth.

Chuckling at your eagerness, he filthily whispers that you could start by giving him the next part of his birthday gift, hmm? You nod breathlessly, unable to say no to your precious Maxie. He palms your juicy asscheeks with his large palms, squeezing at your flesh greedily. Soon enough he’s fingering your tight, winking hole from above you, telling you to hold your asscheeks apart for him as he messily spits right over where he plans to fuck you. Just the tip, right, Maxie? You repeat again, feeling unsettled with not knowing what he was doing behind you, when he stopped to stare at your cute little hole for a few minutes. Your blushing face is still buried into the cushions as your nails dig into your bouncing ass and hold it apart for him. I've never had anything...inside there before, you say, cheeks warming. So you can't stretch it out, okay, I read that it-

Yeah, yeah baby Max says distractedly, hypnotised by your inviting tight hole that is filling him with a growing desire to ruin it every passing second. Whatever you say. Dousing himself in lube from the supply he keeps stashed in between the couch cushions, he approaches you from behind, his erect cock standing stiff as you jiggle your hips. His tip nudges against your back entrance, making you moan excitedly at foreign but tingly feeling. Then he’s thrusting his leaking cockhead in and out of your hole, and you’re babbling incoherently, your face turned to the side as you gasp mouthfuls of air. Oh, it feels sooo good, mmhhh, yes Maxie-

He growls approvingly at your desperate whining, smacking your red asscheeks again and again to make them bounce. Feels amazing, right baby? he hums into your ear, pressing his abs down against your back. The new position makes his cock accidentally slide in just a little more and you arch your back more when the tingly feeling gets stronger as he slips a large hand around to toy with your sensitive clit. You’ll let me put in just a little bit more, right baby? Max whispers huskily, his hungry eyes taking in your drooling, fucked out face. You were in so much bliss he doubts you’d be able to say no to anything he asked for. O-ok, a little bit more- Ohh! Oh fuck!

You cry out as he doesn’t hesitate to slip inside you even further. It’s a good thing you can’t see the filthy mess behind you because Max has bullied an easy third of his rigid, veiny shaft inside your gummy walls. He groans against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he praises how good you take his fat cock, better than any of his girlfriends. He knows just what to say to have you seeing stars as he continues to shove more and more of himself into your tight hole. Fuck schat, giving me the best birthday treat ever, I’m gonna be addicted.

You’re on Cloud 9-, pink tongue poking out of your mouth and drooling all over the cushion, pretty doe eyes rolled all the way back as Max pounds into your all too willing body. You can barely reply coherently when he croons that he’s just gonna slide a bit more in, that’s right, just like that, you can take it for him, right?

His whole cock is buried inside your ass now, beads of sweat running own his toned abs. And soon you’re screaming his name as he greedily fucks you, grunting with pleasure at each thrust. You can only cross your fingers and hope none of your friends come back from the club early.

—————————————————————————

A/N: back to my old FILTHY ways after writing a 9.5K mafia fic just to give u all whiplash will finally be posting part 2 of earned it v soon with dedicated hot husband max hehehe 😝

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni #max verstappen x oc

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sanaexus · 8 months ago

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social's as sae's girlfriend

-liked by shiidoryu, isaichii and 125.2k others

yourusername: don't be fooled he actually enjoys being with me (the last image is him when he sees me)

tagged: itoshi_sae

itoshi_sae: fuck off ↳yourusername: don't fuck off, fuck me instead ↳itoshi_sae: oh god i hate you ↳yourusername: no you don't ↳itoshi_sae: i don't

shiidoryu: wow sae you've never looked at me like that?? 💔💔😔😔 ↳itoshi_sae: you're an eyesore ↳shiidoryu: and she's not?? ↳yourusername: RUDE ASF?? YOU LOOK LIKE A TOMATO TFYM ↳itoshi_sae: as much as i hate saying it out loud she's pretty i guess ↳yourusername: was the "i guess" necessary? ↳mikka.kaiser: did you use the tomato as tomato or tomato? ↳yourusername: i used it as tomato ↳mikkar.kaiser: ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID? ITS TOMATO ↳yourusername: BOY STAFU ITS TOMATO ↳mikka.kaiser: NO??? ↳yourusername: SQAURE UP BITCH I'LL FUCKING FIGHT YOU ↳mikka.kaiser: BET

nikkoki: who got bro smiling like that? ↳yourusername: the waitress ↳nikkoki: elaborate ↳yourusername: she was approaching us multiple times, we thought she liked sae nah turns out she's gay thought i was cute thought sae was my brother and asked for my number lol ↳eita.otoya: ohhhh that's why he looks like he's ab to fight someone ↳yourusername: he don't bite 🥰😋 ↳itoshi_ sae: yes i do tf? ↳yourusername: no you don't

isaichii: he's secretly a hopeless romantic (it's canon you won't change my mind) ↳yourusername: frfr (it is i caught him watching shoujo) ↳isaichi: (NAH WAIT FR?) ↳yourusername: (DEAD SERIOUS) ↳itoshi_sae: for context she put it on, forced me to watch it with her and then left the room ↳yourusername: BOO HOO PARTY POOPER

-liked by kuniisuke, chigi.who and 139.7k others

itoshi_sae: cute (the cat)

tagged: yourusername

karasu_tabito: OH EMM GEE SAE POSTING SOMETHING THAT ISN'T SOCCER?!?!?! ↳mikka.kaiser: for FUCKS SAKE MATE IT'S FOOTBALL ARE YOU AMERICAN OR SOMETHING? ↳megubachi: RAHHH WHAT'S A KILOMETER🔥🔥💯💯🦅🦅💣💣🔫 🔫🔛🔝🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 ↳isaichii: FREEDOM RAHHH 🔥🔥💯💯🦅🦅💣💣🔫 🔫🔛🔝🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 ↳itoshi_sae: sigh

yourusername: OMGOMGOMGOMG IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING SAE'S POSTING ME?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?! ↳shiidoryu: you might have won the war but i'll win the battle ↳yourusername: that's the wrong fucking qoute dumbass ↳reo.miikage: quote* and it isn't even a quote it's idiom ↳rin.itoshi: fucking dumbasses it's a phrase ↳yourusername: kys 🤬🤬

user1: she's🎀so🎀coquette🎀 ↳yourusername: ikr sae called that bow stupid :( ↳itoshi_sae: and i apologized and watched inside out with you ↳yourusername: i know i just like making you feel bad

julian.loki: sae apologizing wasn't on 2024 bingo card but love to see it ↳user2: fr now all that man needs to do is apologize to the better sibling ↳itoshi_sae: fuck off ↳yourusername: what he meant to say is "yes of course" his autocorrect must be acting up ↳itoshi_sae: no, i said what i said

-liked by itoshi_sae, rin.itoshi and 144.3k others

yourusername: did you know i like the beach? i like the beach also sae in his photographer era 😝

tagged: itoshi_sae

itoshi_sae: i was taking picture of the food and you had to ruin it ↳yourusername: you're not gonna say allat when you legit forced me to pose for like 15 minutes ↳itoshi_sae: shut up

user2: her eyelashes are so pretty ☹☹ ↳yourusername: stop im gonna kiss u 👉👈 ↳itoshi_sae: not on my watch ↳user2: boo hoo your js jealous i got a chance ↳itoshi_sae: fuck off ↳yourusername: that's not nice

reo.miikage: damn that looks fine ↳hiyori: what the fuck . ↳kuniisuke: what. ↳reo.miikage: THE FOOD I MEAN YALL ARE SO PERVERTED?? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: MAYBE YOU SHOULD SPECIFY??

nagi.seishiro: who took this pictures though ↳yourusername: idk it was in sae's gallery so i took it lol ↳rin.itoshi: y/n wtf what if some creepy old bald oily man took it? ↳yourusername: that's my type 🥰 ↳itoshi_ sae: wtf? ↳yourusername: shh look away

shiidoryu: i thought he hated the beach? ↳yourusername: HUH?? BRO THAT MAN PLAYS FOR A SPANISH TEAM?? HE'S ALMOST ALWAYS SURROUNDED BY WATER? ↳shiidoryu: IDK BRO HE TOLD ME HATED BEACHES WHEN I ASKED HIM TO COME W ME ↳yourusername: I THINK THAT'S BC YOU ASK HIM AND HE DIDN'T WANNA GO W YOU ↳shiidoryu: THAT'S SO RUDE??

itoshi_sae: you're pretty ↳yourusername: OMGG IT'S HAPPENING OMGOMGOMG CODE RED ↳isaichii: WOOO HOOOOO ↳nikkoki: ITS HAPPENING !! ↳nikkoki: WAIT WHAT'S CODE RED AGAIN ↳chigi.who: js cheer her on ↳itoshi_sae: y/n why are your friends like this ↳yourusername: THEY'RE YOUR FRIENDS TOO? ↳itoshi_sae: nah

wooo we're finally done?? idk how i feel ab this but i hope you enjoyed it <3

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ifwebefriends · 10 months ago

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My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

#Bluey #bluey the sign #meme #Bluey heeler #rad heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #baby race #my ramblings #my rambles #frisky heeler #brandy cattle #spoilers #bluey the sign spoilers #bluey spoilers

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buck-star · 10 months ago

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Light after Dark | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You ex-boyfriend never treated you well but when Bucky steps into your life it changes and he shows you how much he loves you. Would the behaviour you had with your ex-boyfriend be there because Bucky looks distanced.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 10.057 (it’s long but worth it, guess so)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, angst, abusing ex-boyfriend, violence, slapping, shouting, wound/scars because of abuse, smut, non/dub-con, manipulation, blowjob, deep throating, nipple play, handjob (male!receiving), cum eating, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, belly bulge, praises, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hello hello! It's me, again. Got bit of an angsty idea. Let's say that reader has an abusive ex, and this dude was physically and emotionally draining. She never had a single nice thought about herself in three years. She always thought she had big thighs, or wide hips etc etc. And let's say that she does have some scars from her ex, whenever he used to beer bottles at her they'd crash and cut her. She always thought she was not worthy, because he used to cheat on her all the time. Now, presently, we're with Bucky. And nowadays Bucky has been a little irritated and distant. And you think the worse, and your defense mechanism come up. Back with your ex, you used to cook good food and make so much effort (but your asshole ex never bothered) Bucky is confused why there's whole royal course of a meal on the table when he comes home. You don't want to point out the obvious and say it's for nothing, but it's really because you don't want him to leave. Bucky knows something is up, but how does he approach the situation???🤭🤭🤭This was pretty long lol (Again you don't have to write this if you’re uncomfy😌😌) Okie BYE!! @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you so much for the request. I absolutely love it and I hope you like what I made with that. Also wanna thank my best friend @imtryingbuck for listening to me, and helping me with some parts during writing.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Come one, can’t you get your shit together? It’s not that hard,” he shouted at you, throwing his hands up while he looked at you.

His expression was disgusted, and he was disappointed — because of you, like he always was. You just asked him to help you with the plates, but he was annoyed, mad that you couldn’t do it without annoying him. You didn’t want to annoy him; it was never your intention, but you’re tired — working hard in the household every day, sleeping only half of the night — and he never appreciates what you did. He wanted to have a meal — a proper meal — but you presented him with something he didn’t want to eat that day. How could you dare to cook soup when he wants meat?

“Take your plate and sit on the floor,” he told you, pointing next to him on the ground.

“P—please. I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He rolled his eyes, and not even now have you done what he told you. Alex placed his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you were sitting next to him on the floor. He used his hand under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing you to lock in with him. Alex let go of your chin, smirking at you before his hand met your cheek painfully. You hissed, tears building in your eyes, but you swallowed harshly and looked down on your plate, which was lying in front of you.

“Shut your mouth. I don’t wanna hear a fucking word."

Your body started to tremble, but you stayed quiet. Alex laughed, turning to the plate in front of him and sliding the spoon through it a few times. He hadn’t tried the soup you cooked; he stared at the plate. That’s nothing a person like him would eat; Alex deserved better than soup. He deserved to be treated well. He turned his face, seeing you sitting in the same position since he smacked your face. You weren’t saying a word; your hands were shaking, and you tried to hide your tears. He took the plate in one of his hands, holding it above you. With a sadistic expression, he let the soup fall down on you.

“Oh— sorry. I forgot you’re not the trash,” he said.

You whimpered, feeling the hot liquid covering your body and burning your skin. Alex watched you and the way the soup soaked your clothes. He then stood up and pushed you to the side; you were curled up in yourself, crying silently while he just kicked you. Alex walked out of the kitchen, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess lying on the ground. Alex just left the house when you started crying more.

Almost half of the night you were lying on the ground, your body trembling, and you cried until there was no tear left anymore. You loved that man; you feel in love with him because he was caring; he made you feel good and appreciated you. But you feel like you were the reason for him being the way he is now. Maybe you were too fat, maybe your food wasn’t good, maybe you didn’t do things like you should do then? You often thought about it already — sleepless nights while Alex was sleeping next to you, smelling like a bottle of alcohol itself while he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Somewhere in the night, you heard the keys in the door. Your body tensed immediately while you pretend to be sleeping on the couch. Alex knew you weren't, and even when he would wake you up, he was drunk and frustrated.

“Babe, come here now. You little bitch,” he shouted through the house, and you sat up. “I won’t repeat myself, slut.”

You slowly walked toward him, holding your arms tightly around your body to cover yourself a bit. He grinned when he saw you walking closer to him; you look so small, while he felt so good looking at your scared form in front of him. Alex was holding a bottle of beer in his hand, and he took a sip, groaning when he noticed that the bottle was empty.

“Alex, y—you should go to bed,” you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrow.

You dared to say something, telling him what he had to do. He didn’t think twice when he lifted the bottle and smashed it against your head. The glass broke and left a bloody wound on your head. You whimpered and tried to hide the tears from rolling down your cheeks, but he saw it, and it made him chuckle even more. Now you knew that you shouldn’t tell him what to do, or else Alex would show you that you were his own little toy to treat and fuck you however he wanted.

“Get on your knees.”

“P—please. C—can I just clean the wound?”

“Get on your knees, or I will give you more than just this one to clean. Fucking little bitch,” he hissed, grabbing your chin harshly.

You whined, trying to turn your face away, but he was too strong for you. So you needed to look directly into his eyes while he leaned closer, and you smelled his breath — which smelled like nothing but alcohol. You pushed the urge to look disgusted away, but when he leaned even closer and captured your lips with his, you tried to pull away from him. His tongue slid over your lips, and when you weren’t parting your lips, he just smacked your cheek to make you hiss in pain. Then you opened your mouth, and he was able to guide his tongue into it. You felt disgusted, but you loved him, and when it was what he wanted, you wouldn’t deny it; otherwise, he would still do it. He has control over your relationship, as he showed you. Alex pulled away from you, leaving you panting while he smirked and pushed you down on your knees.

“Suck my fucking dick. Other girls would beg me to suck it, so why are you complaining about my dick, huh? Thinking you’re pretty? You’re not; have you seen your ugly, fat thighs? I would be ashamed to show them someone,” he said, and you nodded.

You didn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks; you felt so ashamed and embarrassed for looking the way you do. With shaking hands, you gasped his belt and unbuckled it. Opening his pants before you shoved them down his legs. You saw the outline of his dick in his pants, but he wasn’t hard. When you looked at his dick a moment too long for his liking, he cleared his throat, grasped your hair, and pushed you closer.

“Do you really think I will be turned on when I see you? You’re just a little ugly slut,” he said, laughing about the tears in your eyes.

You knew you weren't the most beautiful person, but even when you heard that for three years now, it was still hurtful. Alex always told you that he could have everyone, that everyone wanted to be with him, but he was together with you, even when it’s just because you couldn’t be without him — that’s what he was always saying.

You pushed his boxers down as well, revealing his soft cock. Alex took his shaft in his hand, stroking himself a few times before he pulled you closer and tapped his dick against your lips. You opened your mouth slightly, and when he managed to push into you, he immediately rammed his dick down your throat. He never paid attention to how you felt when you had sex; he didn’t care. You gagged around his length, trying to get used to it, but he had already started to thrust into you. His cock always slid down your throat, and his balls slapped against your chin. His hand in your hair guided you over his cock, and he slapped your cheeks a few times, causing more tears in your eyes.

“You’re such a fucking little slut, aren’t you? That’s the only thing you can do. Sucking my cock."

Your nails were digging into your tights, trying to ground you while he held you on his cock. He was deep in your mouth and throat, and you tried not to panic, but when he didn’t let you pull back, you wiggled softly, trying to move away from his length. But he didn’t let you move away; he was holding you with his cock in your mouth in place. When he was finally letting go of you, you pulled away and breathed deeply, crying quietly, while he grabbed your chin once again. His eyes darkened as he looked into yours. And you knew you shouldn’t have tried to pull away from him.

“Do you wanna kidding me? Making a scene like that?” He asked, looking disappointed at you.

He didn’t wait for an answer before he pushed his dick back inside your mouth. His hips thrusted forward, he groaned, and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth just before he came in your mouth. His cum was sliding down your throat, and he pulled away, smacking your face again before he pointed toward the couch.

“A—Alex.”

“Can’t you just keep your mouth shut? You annoy me. You’re my girlfriend, and your boyfriend wants to fuck you now.”

When you woke up next to your boyfriend, your pussy was aching. He fucked you rough, never minding if it would hurt you or if you enjoyed this sex too. You were slowly getting up, and you felt disgusted with the mixture of sweat and cum on your body. So you walked to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake him. You really needed a hot shower, so you did exactly that. A hot, relaxing shower was perfect for your arching pussy and your tensed muscles, but when you heard Alex shouting that the breakfast wasn’t ready, you panicked again. You should have done the breakfast first and then thought about a shower. He swung the door of your shared bathroom open, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Do you think you could take a shower before making breakfast for me?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“I’m sorry—“

He walked closer, towering over you and pulling the towel away, leaving you naked in front of him. Alex looked your body up and down, slapping your breast and causing you to gasp.

“Have you looked into the mirror? Look how ugly you are, and your pussy, only great because she is still tight,” he said, turning around to took a shower as well.

You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to cover it. He is right; you’re ugly, and you can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Your body is covered with scars — scars he caused with beer bottles or when he just hit you hard enough. You bent down to lift your towel, wrapping it around you, and got out of the bathroom to change into leggings and a t-shirt. Then you made your way to the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for the two of you.

It didn’t take long until Alex walked into the kitchen. He smirked at you when you looked so small compared to him since you tried to make yourself small around him. And especially because he can see the respect or more fear you have in your eyes when you look at him. You placed the plates on the table, both of you taking a seat, and you ate in silence; you didn’t want to annoy him. When he was finished, he looked at you, shoving his plate closer to you.

"You already made better food. I want you to clean until I come home from the meeting,” he told you.

“Oke,” you said, taking the plates to put them in the other dishes to clean them later.

Alex went to work, and you needed to clean. You weren’t really motivated to do so, but you didn’t want him to be angry at you again. So you started in the kitchen and then went to the living room. When you were almost finished, you heard Alex coming back home, and your muscles were immediately tensed.

“Lunch?”

“I cleaned and haven’t-“

“I don’t mind. You have to bring lunch to the table, and you didn’t once again,” he said.

“Thought I told you that when you’re not doing what I said, I will break up. You want that? No? But you did it, no. Lazy ass didn’t do what she was told.”

You whimpered, but he shook his head, pointing to the door of the apartment. And grasped your arm to pull you closer to the door. It was raining outside, and you knew he didn’t mind; he would let you wait outside until he allowed you to come back into the apartment. Alex went back inside and left you in front of the door. Your clothes were immediately soaked because of the rain, and you felt the cold all over your body. You were freezing, but he wouldn't let you into the apartment until he wasn't mad anymore. So you sat on the ground, your back against the wall, and your legs were pulled against you while you wrapped your arms around them. You cried quietly, trying to warm yourself up a bit while the cold rain was wetting your whole body.

"Hi, are you oke? Aren't you freezing?" A soft voice asked, and you looked at the man in front of you.

He was kneeling, offering you his hand, but you just smiled at him. He saw that it wasn't a real one, but he didn't want to pressure you. His brown hair was as wet as you were, but he didn't mind. He also didn't mind taking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you mumbled.

"I'm Bucky, and you?" He asked softly, his hand resting on your knees.

The warmth of his body warmed you a bit as well, and his steel blue eyes and the smile on his lips warmed your heart. You admired his blue eyes; he looked soft and beautiful.

"I'm Y/N"

"And what is a pretty girl like you doing outside in the rain?"

You blushed and turned your face away. Bucky smirked, looking at you, while he tried to find out why you were sitting there with a bruise on your pretty face. He hadn't seen that one before, but when he did, he reached out to slide his fingers over your face to turn it toward him. You hissed, trying to escape his fingers even when his touch was way softer than Alex's. Bucky removed his hand and waited until you were ready to face him again.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know I would scare you. I don't want to hurt you, but where are the bruises from?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Nothing, really. I just- I just walked against the counter yesterday. I was stupid and ignored the open door of the counter. And I'm sitting here because I forgot my keys," you tell him.

Bucky nodded. He didn't really believe you, but he didn't want to push you either. When he noticed someone opening the door behind you, he got up to face the person behind you.

"You little slut, didn't I tell you to get pizza?" Alex asked, ignoring Bucky, who furrowed his eyebrows.

"Alex, you didn't say that you wanted pizza," you said quietly, looking at your hands.

"Don't dare to talk back, or you can spend the rest of the night here as well," he shouted at you, and you flinched.

Bucky's jaw was clenching when he saw the way Alex treated you, and when you got up from where you were sitting, Bucky reached out to grab your shoulder and pushed you behind him. Alex was laughing about it; his eyes were piercing into Bucky's.

"Do you think someone like him would treat you better? You're nothing but slut, a dumb little bitch," he said to you even when he was looking at Bucky.

You whimpered softly, but before you were able to say something, you saw Bucky's arm flying forward, and a moment later, your boyfriend was walking backwards, his hand covering his nose while he hissed in pain. Bucky just broke his nose with one punch, and you saw the blood slowly running down his chin, and Alex's hand was covered in it as well. You weren't sure if you felt scared or thankful that Bucky protected you for your boyfriend.

"Fucking slut. I'm gonna break up with you; fuck your new lover; he won't love you the way I loved you," he said, shutting the door and leaving you with Bucky in front of it.

Bucky turned around, seeing you crying, and, with widening eyes, looking at him broke his heart. He didn't want to scare you more, but he was just too angry at Alex for treating you the way he did. Bucky smiled nicely, opening his arms for you to decide if you wanted him to hug you or not. You hesitated a moment, but his warmth and the way he protected you made you crave more. So you walked closer toward him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible. You placed your hand on his chest, inhaling his sweet-mint scent, and closed your eyes for a moment.

For the first time in years, you felt saved and loved. Someone could really like you the way you are. Bucky didn't know you, but he gave you the warmth you never got from your ex-boyfriend. His touches were soft, and you enjoyed the warmth and softness of them.

"You will come home with me. You can sleep in my bed then; I prefer the floor in the living room," Bucky said.

You were freezing, and when Bucky already offered you his bed and maybe a warm shower, you would definitely say yes. So you nodded softly, and Bucky lifted you up, his hands resting under your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist while you placed your hands around his neck. You looked at him with a smirk, and Bucky grinned just as much as you did. Only then did you realise his beautiful blue eyes, which light up when he smiles, like he did.

"Can I take a shower then as well? And Bucky, I think I'm too heavy for you to carry me home," you say quietly.

"You can also take a long, warm bath if you want to. And don't worry, you're not too heavy for me," he chuckled and gave you some butterflies in your stomach, causing you to giggle softly.

"I'm home, doll," Bucky shouts through the apartment you both live in now.

Bucky takes off his jacket and shoes and makes his way into the kitchen. He inhales the smell of the food deeply, smiling when he sees the plates filled with his favourite food on the table. He walks around the table, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Bucky places his chin on your shoulder and looks at you while you're cooking.

When Bucky picked you up that day, you met him for the first time. He brought you to his home, and like he said, you were allowed to take a long, warm bath, and you slept in his bed. It was the first time in forever that you felt safe. Bucky made breakfast in the morning — a lot of breakfast because he wasn't sure what you liked to eat, so he made pancakes and French toast, and he offered you cereal. When you finished the dinner, he asked you to look over your wounds, and when you allowed him to do so, he picked you up to carry you into the bathroom and placed you on the edge of the bathtub. Bucky slowly moved his fingers over your thighs, and when you looked away because you were ashamed, he told you how beautiful you are.

Bucky took off your shirt, revealing a lot of scars and wounds all over your body. The hiss that left his lips made you flinch, but he assured you that he was just shocked that such a beautiful person like you has an ex-boyfriend like Alex. Bucky cleaned all your wounds; he didn't say that you were ugly. His words surprised you every time because he always admired your body, and he still does. The two of you came closer when Bucky offered you to stay with him, so you both would have someone, and you said yes, but your behaviour with your ex-boyfriend needed time to slowly fade away.

Bucky was really confused when you were always up before him when you made the meals and always studied his expression to see if it was good or not. With time, Bucky learned to tell you that the food is good, that he would like to cook with you together, and that he is going to help you with the dishes. Bucky took care to always tell you when he got home and to tell you what he would like to eat, or he told you to decide. When you were unsure, Bucky helped you decide, but he never pressured you. His only intention was to make you happy because he could never get enough of your beautiful smile.

Whenever you were looking into the mirror and a disgusted expression was on your face while a few tears fell down your cheeks — you wanted to be at least a bit handsome — Bucky smirked and was standing next to you, and he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. He took off his shirt and showed you the scars on his own body. The bunch of scars around his metal arm, but also the others. He showed you a side of himself that was also just a broken man, and you fell in love with that side just as much as you fell in love with the strong Bucky who would punch everyone to protect you.

When you suddenly got woken up by a scream and you were scared your ex-boyfriend was shouting at you, you needed a moment to remember that you were with Bucky. It confused you at first why you heard a scream, but when you heard another and then a noise that sounded like a punch, you got up to find Bucky sleeping on the floor in the living room. It wasn't new to you to see him lying there, but when you saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead, you walked closer to place your hand on his shoulder. He woke up immediately and tried to wipe the tears away, but everything in his body told you that he had a really bad nightmare. You sat in his lap; your arms were around his neck, and you were sliding your fingers through his soft brown hair. Bucky had his face hidden in the crock of your neck. You being close to him is just as helpful for him as his being close to you to feel safe and comfortable.

You never judge him for having nightmares, for not being comfortable around too many people, or for struggling with his scars and mental health sometimes. And he gives you the same; he never dares to judge you. Bucky tries to show you how beautiful you are, that you're worth it, and that you are and can be more than you think. And he loves you the way you are, just like you love him the way he is.

Slowly, you get used to being good the way you are, and Bucky will never shout at you or hurt you. But for a while, he has looked irritated and distant. He comes home late, and even when he says it's nothing, you feel like you have done something that makes him mad or that he loves you less. So you try to be better, clean the apartment more often, cook what he loves, and try not to be too clingy around him.

"It smells beautiful," he says, kissing your neck softly.

You lean into his touch, smiling, while you finish the dinner. His hands are trailing up and down your sides, and you feel the goosebumps erupting all over your body. You love his soft, warm touches, his kiss all over your neck, and the way his breath hits your soft skin.

"There is something in the oven," you say, and Bucky takes a step back to walk to the oven. "You can just take a seat; dinner is almost done."

Bucky looks slightly confused. Usually, you wouldn't mind his help, but for a few days, you don't ask or let him help you with food and dishes anymore. You cook a lot of what he loves, and the meals are almost royalty meals. He doesn't mind eating your food because he loves what you do, but he wonders why you suddenly act like you did when he first met you. He walks around the table and takes his seat. He looks at you with a soft smile, but he still doesn't understand why you put so much effort into cleaning and cooking.

"How come you cook such royal meals?" He asks softly but sees you flinch.

You constantly feel like you have done something wrong; maybe that's not what Bucky likes? Maybe you shouldn't have cooked that? Bucky wants, probably, a pizza. You feel the tears building in your eyes, and when you turn around, you see Bucky's smile fading away. He looks with a worried expression at you while he gets up and walks closer to you. You shake your head, walking backwards and crashing into the kitchen counter behind you.

"Doll, can I please come closer? I can stand here when you feel comfortable, but please let me come closer," he says, and you hesitate a moment.

Bucky stands a few meters away from you, waiting for you to allow him to come closer. When you nod slightly, Bucky steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible against him. Your head rests against his broad chest, and your tears are soaking his t-shirt while he holds you tightly.

"B—Bucky I'm sorry. I didn't want to make the wrong food. I cleaned the house today; please don't be mad for not cleaning enough," you say quietly.

"Shhh. Doll, you didn't do anything wrong; why do you think that?"

"B—Because you look so distant. Don't you love me anymore? Am I too ugly or too fat? I—I can do a diet."

Bucky's eyes widen, and he slides his hands down to your thighs and picks you up. He shoves the pots away from the cooker. He then turns around and carries you to the bedroom of the two of you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you try to wipe the tears away when he places you on the bed. Bucky stands in front of you and smirks softly, then he gets on his knees in front of you. His hands slide up and down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your shirt.

"I love you. I love you so much. And the missions with Sam were really exhausting, especially because John is always trying to tell us what we have to do. But I love you so much, and you are beautiful exactly the way you are. You're not fat or ugly; you're perfect the way you are," Bucky tells you. He then pushes you down and towers over you with a wide smile on his lips.

Bucky captures your lips with his soft and plumb ones, his hands sliding along your sides, and you sigh softly into the kiss. Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your barely parted lips, and he groans when you place your hands in his soft hair and tug at them softly.

You've never had sex with Bucky; he didn't pressure you since you were uncomfortable with it because of your ex-boyfriend. But right now, it feels perfect — the way Bucky has his lips on yours and his hands all over your body. You feel a heat in your lower stomach, which makes its way between your legs, and you can't help but moan about the feeling. When Bucky pulls slightly away, your eyes widen but are filled with lust, the pleasure written on in your expression, and Bucky smiles about it. He kisses down your jawline and to your neck, biting softly and licking over your soft skin.

"Bucky, please," you whimper.

He smirks, kissing your lips once again, before he plays with the hem of your shirt and pushes it up. You sit up, letting him remove the fabric from your body, and he groans about the way you look underneath him with lust in your eyes. Bucky kisses your collarbone, down to your breasts, and unclasps your bra so you can take it off as well. His big hands capture your breasts, palming them softly, and he earns soft moans from you. Bucky licks a strap down to one of your nipples; he kisses it softly before he takes it into his mouth, his tongue twirling around your nipple. You arch your back, pressing yourself more against your boyfriend, who chuckles.

"You're beautiful, doll," he mumbles, nibbling at the soft skin of your breast.

You blush and hide your face with your hands, giggling softly. Bucky looks at you, grasping your hands and pulling them away from your face. He leans closer to kiss your lips softly.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours. You’re so beautiful; I wanna see you, please," Bucky says, pouting, and you smirk.

You lean closer and peck at his lips, just as softly as he did. Bucky moves his lips down your collarbone and to your other breast, kissing around your nipple before he takes it in his mouth as well. Suckling softly and scratching his teeth over the sensitive skin. You moan, tugging at his hair and pulling him even closer. Bucky slides his hands from your breasts down your stomach, kissing the way down and giving every inch of your soft skin attention.

“Do you want it? If not, we can wait until you’re ready to have sex with me,” Bucky says, his fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

“I want it, please, Bucky. I need you,” you mumble, blushing once again.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he chuckles.

Bucky opens your pants, trailing his fingers along your skin while he pushes your pants down. He then kisses the way back to your belly and smirks when you wiggle in anticipation. He pushes himself up, removing his shirt as well as his pants, before he leans over you again. You can see his growing bulge in his boxers, and the outline of his cock is visible. A little wet spot forms where his tip is, and you reach out your hand to touch his cock.

“Wanna touch it, babydoll?” He asks, and you nod, your eyes focused on his covered cock.

Bucky grins, getting up the bed once again, and pushes his boxers down. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach; the red tip is leaking with pre-cum, and you see the vein running along the underside of his shaft. Bucky gets on the bed next to you. You sit up, looking directly into his eyes, while he smiles at you. You slide your fingers over his abs and to the base of his cock. Bucky looks at your fingers, his hand wrapping around yours, and he brings both of your hands to his shaft.

“It’s oke, doll. I won’t do anything unless you want me to,” he says, leaning closer to kiss you before he wraps your hand around his shaft.

You smile when you feel the softness of his length. He is huge, but with Bucky, you feel safe, and you know he wouldn’t do anything when you say you don’t want him to do so. His hand lets go of yours.

For a moment, you just look at his cock in your hand and the way his pre-cum is leaking down his tip. It’s glistening softly, and you swipe your thumb over his slit, smearing the cum all over his tip. Bucky groans softly, smiling when you slowly move your hand up and down his shaft.

“Do you like that?”

“It feels wonderful, babydoll.”

You giggle, swiping your thumb a few more times about his tip until Bucky can’t hold back and thrusts forward into your hand. His eyes widen, and he looks at you, but there is no discomfort, so he relaxes and lets you continue to massage his dick.

“C—Can I touch your balls?” You ask, cheeks heating up.

Bucky nods, and you look at his balls before you use your other hand to bring it to his balls, taking them into your hand. They are soft, and you roll them in your palm, causing Bucky to groan.

“Babydoll, you’re doing so well for me. But when you continue, I won’t last long,” Bucky says.

You grin, moving your hand faster and wrapping it tighter around his shaft. Your other hand is massaging his balls, and when you swipe your thumb once again over his tip, Bucky grasps the sheets and thrusts his hips forward.

“Doll,” he says, looking deeply into your eyes.

The blue lights up when he smirks; they are slightly darkened because of the lust, but they show you nothing but love. When you stroke his cock a few more times, Bucky throws his head back and comes into your hand. He breathes heavily, and sweat is covering his forehead. His seeds are covering his tip and your hand, and for a moment he is worried that you could feel uncomfortable with it. But you just stroke him until he comes down from his high, and then you look at your hand, his cum slowly dropping from it, and you move it to your mouth, so you lick a bit of it away, moaning softly at its salty taste.

“It tastes good,” you smirk, tapping his cock again, and Bucky moans.

When Bucky catches his breath, he pushes you back down so you lay next to him. He spreads your thighs and slides his fingers up and down your thighs further until he reaches your panties. Your face is turned toward him, and he’s focused on your expression, making sure you’re oke. When you nod softly, Bucky guides his hand over your panties and caresses your fold through the fabric. You moan softly; he knows how to touch a woman to make her feel good; he immediately hits your clit and you buck your hips. He then slides his fingers further down, feeling your panties damp, and he smirks.

“Can I take your panties off?” He asks, and you nod, but place your hands on his cheek and press your lips on his.

Bucky moves his lips perfectly against yours; he’s deepening the kiss before he kisses your neck and collarbone before his focus is back on your panties. His fingers circle your clit through the fabric, and you moan quietly, arching your back. Bucky takes the waistband of your panties between his fingers and pulls them down, revealing your pussy. He rolls himself on top of you before he pushes you further down in the bed by your hips. He is then lying between your thighs and smirking at you.

“You’re so wet and so beautiful,” he says, placing a kiss on your pussy.

Bucky’s eyes are focused on your pussy, his fingers trialing through your folds, and he parts them slightly. Using his tongue to lick along them to your clit. Circling around your sensitive spot before he sucks at it softly, making you gasp. You have never felt so much pleasure during sex, and Bucky hasn’t really touched you yet. His fingers trail back down to your soaked entrance. He pushes his digit against it, smirking at the way you push yourself more against his finger.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate for more, doll,” he says, placing his lips once again on your clit.

One of your hands finds its way to his hair, tugging at it and pulling Bucky closer to your cunt. He chuckles against your pussy, causing vibration, and you whine. He slowly pushes one of his fingers into you while his other hand holds you down by your hips. You only then know that he used his metal hand to push inside of you. The sudden cold of his finger feels great compared to the heat in your pussy. Bucky thrusts his finger in and out of you, smirking about the way your pussy is clenching around his digit and sucking him inside. His mouth doesn’t let go of your clit while he does so, enjoying the sounds that are leaving your lips. They are like music, and he could listen to your soft moans all day.

“Bucky— please. It feels so good.”

“You’re tasting so sweet, doll. Can’t get enough of your pussy.”

You smirk, throwing your head back when he adds another finger and pushes them as much as he can into your tight hole. You’re soaking his fingers, and when he curls them, he finds your sweet spot. The moan that leaves your lips is erotic, and you look at him with shock in your eyes about that sound.

“Don’t worry, doll. Just found your sweet spot,” Bucky chuckles, licking down your folds to your entrance.

His tongue joins your fingers, and his lapping at your entrance swallows all your juice. His fingers curl inside of you, hitting always your sweet spot, and you feel the knot in your stomach growing. You haven’t felt a pleasure like that in years, but Bucky is so soft with you; he never says anything bad about you or your body. Bucky loves you; he loves your body; and he shows you that, every day, he makes sure you know how much you’re loved by him and that you’re the most beautiful woman for him.

“I feel soy squeezing my fingers; if you wanna come, then do it. Come all over my fingers, doll,” he says, placing his mouth back at your entrance.

His words, the way his tongue is working over your folds, and the way his fingers are always hitting your sweet spot make you come. Your cum is floating out of you, but Bucky doesn’t dare to miss a bit of it and takes it all. Eating you out like it’s the most delicious meal he's ever had. And he fucks you with his fingers and his tongue through your orgasm; your breath hitches whenever his tongue slides over your folds. Your pussy feels so sensitive, but Bucky is so soft. He earns more soft moans until he pulls his fingers out of you and kisses your clit once more before he places his chin on your lower stomach and smirks at you.

“How are you feeling, pretty girl?”

“Great, thank you. And you?”

Bucky chuckles, you’re always so nice. Even when it’s all about you, you always make sure that he is fine too. That both of you feel comfortable.

“I’m good too. Do you want to have my dick now?” He asks, grinning.

You nod, running your fingers through his soft hair. Bucky kisses your stomach, pushing his elf up until he kneels between your legs. His big hands are caressing your thighs. Bucky’s cock is hard again, and the tip is touching your pussy when he moves closer to you.

“Could you give me a condom? It’s in the drawer from the bedside table.”

You turn yourself a bit around, reaching for the drawer, and open it. You grab a condom and give it to Bucky, then you close the drawer and lay down more comfortably again. Bucky opens the package of the condom, taking it out and throwing the package away. Your boyfriend grasps the base of his cock and pulls the condom over his dick.

You’re spreading your legs further apart when Bucky settles himself between them, his cock still in his hand, and he taps the tip a few times against your clit. He smirks at you, sliding his dick through your folds, and covers his cock with your arousal. You moan softly when he reaches your entrance, pushing his tip softly against it. You whimper softly when Bucky slides his cock once more through your folds. He loves the way you look through your lashes at him; your lips are slightly parted, so desperate for his cock.

"Bucky, please," you say quietly, pushing your hips toward him.

Bucky lines himself up with your entrance and pushes slowly inside of you; his cock is huge, and he stretches you like no one has before. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushes further into you. Your back arches, but he doesn't hurt you; the pleasure is breathtaking, and you grasp the sheets. Bucky chuckles, pushing balls deep into you; he then leans closer and captures your lips with his. His cock is filling you perfectly, and you clench around him, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"You're so tight, warming my cock so perfectly," he groans.

"You're so deep," you moan when he pulls slightly out to push back into you.

You both chuckle, and Bucky takes one of your hands, brings it to your stomach, and places it on your lower abdomen. He then thrusts his cock into you, letting you feel him through your skin and causing you to moan even louder. Feeling his cock that way turns you on beyond belief. He moves his cock in a slow but steady rhythmus inside of you. Your walls are squeezing him, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pussy.

Bucky's balls hit your ass whenever he pushes his dick balls deep into you. His dick is glistening with your arousal, and Bucky looks the whole time into your eyes.

You're beautiful when you lay underneath him like that. Your other hand makes its way to his back, and you try to ground yourself while Bucky holds your other hand, still pressed on your stomach. With every thrust you feel him against your hand, he cock is hitting all the right spots, and he smirks when he hits your sweet spot harder than before.

"That's what you like?" He asks.

"Scared that I will break when you're thrusting harder into me?"

He shakes his head, laughing while he speeds up his thrusts. Your mouth drops open when he causes a pleasure inside of you that you have never felt before. It grows in your stomach and makes its way down to your pussy. Your eyes widen while you breathe heavily, but you still push your hips more against Bucky to show him to fuck you harder. And he does; he pulls almost completely out of you to thrust back inside of you. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes when you squeeze him harder.

"I won't last long when you squeeze me like that, doll," he says, pressing his lips to yours.

You smirk, clenching your walls on purpose to make him groan against your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and his thrusts become harder and faster while you're not far away from the edge anymore. The pleasure in your stomach is growing, and Bucky growls. When he hits your sweet spot a few more times, he feels your orgasm just as close as his own, speeding his thrusts up. Bucky doesn't want to come before you do — or at least when you do.

"B—Bucky, I'm so close."

"I know, me too. Come with me, doll," he mumbles softly.

He pushes his cock into you; you feel every inch of him inside of you; his lips are slightly parted like yours; and his breath hits your soft skin. The feeling of him feeling you completely inside of you causes you to come all over his cock. You moan his name and its music to his ears, hearing you moan his name while he is buried balls deep into your pussy. You're squirting all over his cock, and Bucky grins while he comes as well. He comes in the condom, still thrusting into you while you both calm down from your high. Bucky lets go of your hand, sliding it over your stomach and your sides, caressing your skin. He places kisses all over your neck while you catch your breath and run your fingers through his soft hair.

"Are you oke?" He asks, his blue eyes slightly worried that he could have been too rough.

"I'm— it was perfect."

His expression softens, and he pulls slowly out of you. You hiss about the sudden emptiness and grasp his muscular arms to pull him back. Bucky chuckles, placing his fingers at your pussy and strokes your folds softly. You're clenching around nothing, while Bucky admires the way your cum is dripping out of you.

He then sits up and helps you sit up as well. Bucky removes the condom and gets up from the bed, making his way to the bathroom to throw the condom away. You're looking at him, smirking. He is adorable, sweet, and caring. He never tells you that you're ugly because of your scars; he just kisses them when you struggle because of them and tells you how beautiful you are. And you're doing the same; whenever he has nightmares or suffers from his past or scars, you know exactly how to cheer him up. A lot of kisses and cuddles always help that soft, big man, and with the way his eyes are shining, his lips curl up to the softest and most adorable smile.

You rest your back against the headboard of the bed, waiting for Bucky. He throws the condom away and runs warm water into the bath; he buts your favourite bubble bath into it as well, before he makes his way back to you. He smirks, picking you up with no effort and getting back into the bathroom. Before you can say something, you're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by a lot of bubbles and your favourite scent. You squirm softly when you feel the warm water on your sensitive pussy. Bucky gets into the bathtub behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and pulls you as close as possible.

"I love you," he mumbles, taking some of the foam and putting it on your hair.

You giggle when it rolls down your hair and tickles your skin softly. Bucky rubs his hands softly over your stomach, drawing small circles on it while you lean back, resting your head against his broad chest. Bucky plays with the foam, placing them everywhere on your body, and chuckles then.

"You did so well for me, babydoll. Your pussy's feeling so good around my cock," Bucky says, kissing your neck softly. "Made for my cock."

You chuckle, sliding your hands over his legs. But he is right; it was perfect, and he was so soft that you weren't scared when he pushed in; you felt safe, and you knew he wouldn't do it when you didn't want it.

"My pretty doll, I'm so in love with you. How about I prepare some popcorn and pizza after the bath while you decide which movie we're going to watch?"

"Sounds like a good idea," you say, turning around to kiss him.

Bucky washes your hair, trying to avoid letting shampoo come into your eyes, and he manages to do so. When you turn your whole body around, you're washing his hair. When you put the shampoo in his soft brown hair, you give him some fresh hair styles. Laughing about the way he is pouting when you giggle about his hair. You kiss his pout away, causing him to pout again to get more kisses.

When the both of you are finished, you get out of the bathtub, and Bucky holds a towel to wrap around you, kissing your forehead softly when he walks to the bedroom and dresses himself, giving you panties and a t-shirt of his. You smirk, dress yourself, and comb your hair. Bucky makes his way to the kitchen, preparing the popcorn and the pizza. When you're finished in the bathroom, you walk into the living room, placing all the pillows and blankets on the couch and letting yourself fall into them. When Bucky came with the food and drinks into the living room, he burst out laughing. Only your arms and legs are visible from underneath the pillows. He places the food and drinks on the small table and lifts the pillow on top of you, smirking.

"Does the pillow eat you?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"No, I just like to cuddle."

You sit up, moving a bit to make some space for Bucky. He lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arm around you, then he takes the popcorn and hands it to you before he places the pizza in his lap. With a smirk, you look at the pizza and then into his blue eyes.

"Needy boy," you mumble into his ear.

You slide your hand over his chest to his stomach until you almost reach his cock, but then you take a slice of pizza and bite into it with a grin. You turn on a movie, Bucky, and you like that your head rests on his shoulder while he has his hand around your waist and pulls you as close as possible.

"Just as needy as I'm," he says, making both of you chuckle.

Bucky takes some popcorn from the bowl, which is standing between your legs, so he has to grasp between your legs like you do when you take a slice of pizza from him.

"Bucky?"

"Mhm?" He asks, half asleep, and pulls you even closer against him.

You smile softly and run your fingers through his soft hair. You move some strands out of his face and lean closer to kiss him. Bucky growls and makes you lie on top of him, his arms holding you tightly pressed against him. His fingers draw small circles on your soft skin, and he hides his face in the crock of your neck.

"Y-You know about my things, which are still at Alex's house, right?" You ask carefully; you don't want to upset Bucky.

He hums in response and looks at you, his blue eyes as soft as always. He leans closer and captures your lips for a passionate kiss, showing you that you don't have to worry about telling him about your ex-boyfriend. Bucky knows you love him just as much as he loves you. And he understands that you want to get your personal stuff from your ex-boyfriend.

"A—And I wanted to ask if— could you maybe come with me to him?"

Bucky immediately nods, rolling both of you over so you're underneath him, and he smirks at you. His soft lips grace over yours and along your jawline to your neck, where he bits softly into your skin. His hands move smoothly over your sides, caressing your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. You sigh softly and enjoy the warmth and softness of Bucky's touches. He is always so soft and careful with you, like you could break into his hands when he doesn't pay attention. But you don't complain; Bucky is everything for you — the love of your life and your best friend.

After a lot of kisses, cuddles, and a good breakfast, you're ready to go to your ex-boyfriend and get your personal stuff. Your hands are sweating, and you dry them on your pants. Your body is slightly shaking. Bucky recognises that; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flat against his broad chest. Your head rests on his chest, and you listen to his heartbeat.

"He won't hurt you again, babydoll. I'm taking care of you; I'll protect you, and he won't do anything when you don't want it." Bucky mumbles and pushes you softly away.

He presses his lips against your forehead, which helps calm down your nerves. Bucky opens the door for you, holding your hands tight in his while you two walk along the street to the apartment you used to live in a few months ago. When you see the entrance of it already, you panic, stay still, and inhale deeply. Bucky turns toward you and places his hand on your cheek, sliding his thumb over it.

"Doll, you're stronger than you ever were. This man never broke you, and he never will. He can't harm you; I love you, and I won't let him touch you again," Bucky says softly.

He knows how hard it can be to accept a trauma you're carrying in your soul. Wounds that turn into scars, but it needs more time as a cut on the skin. Bucky knows how much you suffered because of your ex-boyfriend, but he also sees the strong woman behind all that pain. He loves you for the person you are, not for the person he wants you to be. When you nod, he leads you further to Alex's apartment. He knocks with a strength you're not used to at the door, and then the door is opened by a man you feel like you don't know.

Alex has messy hair; his beard isn't shaved like he used to, and he has dark shadows underneath his red eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept for a while, but when he sees you, he smiles. A smile you had only seen on his lips when you first met. The one you fell in love with. But when Alex sees Bucky standing next to you and holding your hand in his, his smile drops.

"Hi, I—I would like to get my stuff, please," you mumble.

Surprisingly, Alex nods and takes a step to the side, letting you and Bucky walk into the apartment. When you look around, everything looks similar to the day he threw you out of the apartment. The only difference is that there are clothes and trash on the ground. Bucky lets go of your hand, staying next to you to make sure Alex isn't doing anything. You're walking through the apartment and picking up your things, putting them in a bag you brought.

"Can we talk, please?" He asks when you walk back to the floor, where he is still standing.

You nod carefully, and Bucky kisses your cheek before he walks a step to the side to let the two of you talk. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and his hands over his face, and then he inhales deeply.

"I'm sorry, I—I Baby—“

"Alex, please. We're not together anymore."

"I never wanted to hurt you. I love you. I haven't had a girl since you moved out. Please, I love you. Give me one more chance to show you that I love you. I will be a better boyfriend this time," he says, and you see the tears falling down your cheeks.

You shake your head. And his eyes widen. Realism hits him when he sees that you don't feel the same for him anymore. He sees in your eyes that you moved on, not only in your eyes; you look in general different from the time you were together with him.

"I'm sorry, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say with such strength in your voice. You never thought you would talk to him like that without fear.

"Please, you— I love you."

"You were strong, and I was not. And you used it — you used it against me. When all is done, there is nothing to say. You have gone, and so effortlessly, you have won. You can go ahead and tell them. You can tell your friends now what you want; you can tell the girls you fuck now how shitty I am and how bad I'm in bed. I never did what you wanted or the way you wanted. Tell them all; I know now that you fucked them all without feeling ashamed to cheat on the girl you have at home, the one who loved you and expected to be treated like you did. To be abused by her boyfriend while still loving him. Shout it from the rooftops; write it on the skyline; all we had is gone now. Tell them I was happy even though my heart was broken. All my scars were open, but I found someone who doesn't mind them and helps to heal them, someone who loves all the scars you caused."

Bucky smirks when he hears your words, and his eyes light up when he hears you tell your ex-boyfriend what was inside of you for so long. And you were finally able to tell him how you felt and how you now feel.

"I know I made mistakes. But I love you."

"Everyone does, but you betrayed me. And falling out of love is hard, but falling for betrayal is worse. And you betrayed me so often. Broken trust and broken hearts — you broke both our hearts; you broke mine when we were together, and yours broke because I moved on. And thinking all you need is there, building faith on love and words, only empty promises will wear. Alex, I loved you, but I moved on, and you should do the same," you say and nod before you walk to Bucky.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes shining in the most beautiful way you have ever seen. You place your hand in his, and he takes the bag before you two make your way to the door and get out of the apartment. When you close the door behind you, you breathe shakily, and you feel like all the pain and fear are fading away. You walk a few steps, but Bucky just can't hold back anymore and stays still, turning around and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I'm so proud of you, doll. I love you so much. I would tell the whole world; I just do it. I will tell the world how much I love you," Bucky says with a grin, and twirling the two of you around, he then leans closer. "I love you so much, and I'm proud of you. I don't even have words for that; you're the most beautiful woman, and you belong to me; you're mine just as much as I'm yours," he whispers into your ear.

"Thank you. I love you too, Bucky," you giggle, then you smirk playfully. "So, where do you want to go to tell the world that you love me?"

"I already did. When I whispered in your ear that I love you. Because you're my world, my perfect world," Bucky says, kissing you softly.

You feel some tears of joy rolling down your face when you realise his words. No one ever said more meaningful words than Bucky does. He is definitely everything for you, and you are grateful to have such a wonderful and loving man as your boyfriend. One who sees you as the only and most wonderful woman, someone who doesn't even look at other women, and one who tries to make you laugh as often as he can. Bucky is the love of your life, and you're grateful that destiny brought the two of you together and that the two of you discover every day another thing you love about one another.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @vicmc624 @kpopgirlbtssvt @ordelixx @angelbabyyy99 @mostlymarvelgirl @somegirlfromasgard @buck-buck-buckaroo @lov3lys1ns @etherealdisneyvillainness @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel

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sarahghetti · 1 year ago

Text

blood on your lies; m.s.

pairing: marc spector x reader centric, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.

warnings: a dive into the mind of marc spector, angst, hurt with some comfort (i.e. jake and steven), kidnapping, vague descriptions of violence.

word count: 3.0k

notes: kind of a continuation of all the echoes in my mind, but can be read as a standalone. written as part of the @moonknight-events bingo! prompt: "insecure", I promise that not all my entries will be this sad lol

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

You’re not home yet.

It’s nearly been three hours. Marc paces the apartment like a caged animal, likely wearing the hardwood underneath his feet. Steven and Jake have run their course about how stupid he is, how he shouldn’t have said what he said, how he should’ve run after you the second you stepped out the door—

But jokes on them. There can be no harsher critic of Marc than Marc himself.

He checks his phone again in case you’ve responded to his many texts and calls, but there’s nothing. As far as he knows, you haven’t even seen any of it.

His temper still lingers under their skin, and he holds it tight with both hands; anger is easy. It’s easier than admitting that the peaks in his heartrate and the sweat on his brow is from anything other than his own self-flagellation.

Anger is familiar.

This, however? The waiting for you to walk through the door, or to give them any sign of life—so much of his sanity rests in the comfort of you being safe. Marc didn’t realize how lucky he was to not know what this was like. Now, he doesn’t know if he can ever forget it.

Jake’s voice is clipped. “Check again.”

They’re all on edge, and it’s terrible. Most of the time, at least one of them manages to keep a level head during stressful situations—usually Marc. Jake is prone to anger, Steven to anxiousness.

“Marc!” Steven yanks him out of his head, and his phone is in his hand without any memory of having taken it out of his pocket. He does a dutiful look through his notifications—nothing.

Three sets of disappointment and concern pile on top of one another and drags them all down so much further.

“Do…” Steven’s voice is quiet. Unsure. “Do you think something might’ve happened to her?”

There is no dissenting opinion, no devil’s advocate. Marc doesn’t try to calm his alters down, and only clenches his jaw.

You’ve never gone quiet on them like this. They’ve never let you leave the flat at night like this. They always opted to be the one to go take a walk because even in the middle of an argument, they wouldn’t risk your safety.

The lingering silence is Steven’s answer.

When the suit wraps itself around his body, the accompanying burst of power in his veins is suffocating. His wounds begin to numb over, but Marc barely notices. He hasn’t spared them a thought since you left.

The cool air does nothing to assuage him. Clouds blot out the sky, leaving nothing but a murky backdrop as he scales up the nearest building for a vantage point. A quick scan over the horizon—nothing. Not a hint of your silhouette under the streetlights, and a lump forms in his throat.

“Khonshu!”

A gust of wind signals the god’s arrival, who, even with a bird’s skull for a head, looks remarkably bored as Marc is clinging to any semblance of sanity. He must already know what’s going on but frustratingly just spreads out his hands, a silent question—what?

Marc grits his teeth. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Khonshu.” The name is a snarl on his lips.

He simply scoffs. “You have the gall to make demands? As if I need to be involved with your lover’s spat?”

“She’s not answering her phone.”

A lingering pause.

“She might be in danger,” Marc snaps, trying to get the god to understand even a fraction of the severity of the situation. They might bloody their hands night after night, staining London’s streets each time they go out on patrol, but it’s never enough. There are always more monsters to take their place, and the thought that you might have run into one of them—

Khonshu cocks his head. “Maybe she’s just finally had enough of you.”

Marc hates how that’s a possibility. Still, desperation crawls out of his throat. “Can you find her?”

Khonshu turns to look over the city, the silence stretching out between them. Whatever divinity he’s channeling, Marc isn’t privy to; all he can do is stand there like a useless dumbass and wait for some hint of you to show up on the god’s radar. Even if you had had enough and never want to see him again—he’ll swallow down that fate in stride as long as he knows that you’re safe.

When Khonshu finally breaks from searching, his head cocks slightly to the side. “Interesting.”

This is hardly the time for theatrics. “Do not—”

“I cannot find her,” the god admits. Not apologetic or ashamed, but—awed. “Where she is right now, her footsteps through the city—there is nothing, Marc Spector. There’s not even a trace of her in your own home.”

The blood rushes in his ears. His chest constricts until he can barely breathe at all. Marc barely manages to wrap his head around the information before Jake and Steven come roaring back again, shocked and confused.

“Stupid fucking bird—”

“She was right here!

“Let me out, pendejo, I swear—”

“What the bloody hell does he mean—”

“How?” Is all Marc manages to get out, every one of his senses on overload.

“Something is hiding her from me; whatever took your lover is very powerful indeed.”

Took. Not a single doubt about it now: something took you. Kidnapped you because Marc couldn’t keep it together for ten-fucking-minutes. Jake and Steven can prattle all they want in the background—his mission is clear.

“Where do we start?”

The flat seems even bleaker when they return, your absence all the more chilling. Steven clamours to take the reins with the obvious assumption that research is the first step they need to take, but that’s quickly dashed away when Khonshu returns with a name.

“Apep.” God of darkness and disorder, Steven supplies from their head. “He’s been cast away for eons, but there have always been those trying to get him to return.”

“It’s another cult?”

Jake swears under his breath. “Figures.”

Ignoring them, Marc presses on. “Who are we dealing with now?”

“If it were easy to find them, I would’ve done it already,” Khonshu bristles. “Apep is helping them—hiding them as they work. I will continue to do what I can.”

“Fine.”

The god disappears in a whirlwind of loose papers, and Marc switches gears. Steven might have the advantage in research, but tracking? The skills he’s honed as a Marine and as a mercenary wait for him like an old pair of shoes; the others can’t help but let him work in peace.

He finds some old tourist map that spans over the city and unfolds it across the dining table. There are only so many places you would’ve gone, so many routes you could’ve taken. London doesn’t become deserted at night and barring any divine intervention, kidnapping someone would cause a scene—you would have caused a scene, he thinks, imagining you fighting tooth and nail against your assailants, screaming for someone to help—

Marc closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. A wave of pain washes over him, and he languishes in it for a minute, not a moment more.

His eyes reopen, spots dancing across his vision as he analyzes the map again. The feeling has been sealed shut into a box, shoved into a corner of his mind. Steve would throw a fit about his mental state if it were any other time, lecturing him on coping mechanisms and compartmentalization, but there’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.

He grits his teeth and refocuses his train of thought. If they’re up against a cult, then they probably would’ve sent multiple people to grab you. Would’ve had to lure you somewhere quiet if it was by force, or they could have convinced you to go with them somehow. Or threatened you. Or…

The more he gets into it, the more he feels himself detaching from the situation, piece-by-piece. The memory of you is like a minefield; it’s a testament to his will that he can recall anything about you without breaking down. What you were wearing—and not the look on your face—when you left. Your favourite park—and not how your hand fits perfectly into his as you walked down the paths—that you might have passed through.

He reduces you to intel, just another folder on his desk. It’s not unfamiliar to him. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he couldn’t take an objective approach to his work. But it’s different because it’s you, because the stakes include you, and when he looks up to try to ground himself again, he spots your favourite mug on the coffee table. Half-empty.

If Layla were here.

The words bounce around his head as Marc stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean it. Steven and Jake are both better with words than Marc, but he’s never loved you any less—he’s never wanted you to be anyone but yourself.

It’s been almost two days since you left, and it’s only now that he’s allowed himself to be corralled into bed. His grip of the hot seat is ironclad, however, which means that the body isn’t getting any sleep tonight. The sun will rise soon, and he’ll pick up his work right where he left off.

Quietly, from the back of his head: “Marc?”

“Could’ve taken the victim anywhere,” Marc murmurs, mind still whirring in the dark.

“’Victim’?” Steven’s voice shifts to be full of indignance. “How could you possibly call her that?”

“Ay, easy on him,” Jake pipes up. For Jake to immediately to jump to his defence means that Marc must be worse off than he thought, but he can’t bring himself to care. “How’s it going, hombre?”

“No sightings on any security cameras. Nothing reported to the cops.” Hours of his time—your time—summarized in a breath. His face remains blank. “I’m going to sweep the remaining areas tomorrow. Find some people who might’ve seen something.”

He’s been doing nothing but cross possibilities off his list. It’s barely any progress and his remaining leads are weak, but his resolve is as strong as ever.

“Nothing from Khonshu?”

“No.” Marc has no idea what the god is doing.

They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the maddening tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Anger is unsustainable, but Marc wishes that they’d return to yelling at him again. At least he knows what to do with that.

Instead, all he gets is Steven’s restrained tone: “Something has to change, you know.”

“Are you really telling me to go to therapy right now?”

“Can’t do much else.” For a moment, Steven’s bitterness resonates. There’s another conversation to be had here—one about their individual capabilities and protective natures—but Marc lets it rest for the night. He knows he’d be driven up the wall if their situation was reversed, if you were in danger and he had to rely on someone else to save you.

He still deflects. “Not the time for this.”

“Maybe not,” Steven concedes, “but you need help, Marc.”

Distantly, Marc recognizes that he’s always needed help. Even after reconciling with Steven and Jake, even after meeting you—the wounds are still there, despite how hard he’s tried to ignore them. He’s stubborn and self-destructive, not stupid.

“We’re with you, always,” Jake adds. Discomfort crawls under Marc’s skin from the supportive words, and he knows that his alters are well aware of it. It’s never stopped them, of course.

“We can talk about this after—after we save her.”

A general murmur of consensus. Marc quickly regains his footing, eager to move on from this line of conversation.

“I’ll find something. Or Khonshu will.” Steady and reassured—trying to convince them and himself. “We’ll get her back.”

Steven’s voice is small, even in the confines of their head. “But why would they take her in the first place?”

“He needs an avatar?” The body hasn’t slept in days. That void of feeling pulses with anger, desperation, fear—it simmers low in their gut, a torch passed along between them.

“Apep will need a vessel once they release him.”

“Here I thought one of his cultists would volunteer.”

Khonshu taps his staff against the ground thoughtfully. “They knew we would come after them, and we’re not the only ones.”

For the briefest of moments, Marc feels hopeful, like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as they thought. It disappears just as fast—Khonshu doesn’t deliver hope. The blood drains out of his face as he actually starts to consider the god’s words.

“If Apep possesses your precious lover, would you really be able to stop her? To take up arms against her?”

Khonshu leans in close then, hollowed eyes burrowing into him.

“Would you let others do the same?”

Over the next week, things begin to look up.

Someone’s girlfriend’s cousin says that they saw someone who looked like you walking down The Mall. There’s a fuzzy image of a car with no license plates. Khonshu catches the briefest hint of you on Westminster Bridge and follows you far, far east—it’s a mere grain of information that’s slipped through Apep’s power, but it’s enough for Marc.

They find the car abandoned in Dover, near the water. It rules out France—driving through the Eurochannel would’ve been the fastest route there, after all. Trying to take a public ferry would’ve been stupid with a captive, which means that they probably chartered or owned a boat.

The remaining pieces fall into place, and he can feel the anticipation from the others build in the background. Marc has led the charge so far with very few breaks to let Steven and Jake breathe a little. Steven misses you so much, he cries whenever he fronts. Jake has gone eerily quiet, and Marc knows what’s simmering underneath the surface; when the fighting starts, Jake will be called to action. His excitement is brutal.

It's all coming to an end soon. Laying on some dirt in the Norwegian countryside, shrouded in darkness, Marc’s never seen more stars in his life. If he’s right—and he is right—they’ll be bringing you to a nearby compound for the final step of their ritual. He couldn’t care less about the how or why. Come the morning, you’ll be here. Marc will get them inside. Jake will get to you. And then…

Marc will probably never be the partner that you deserve, and you never should’ve been subjected to his life. To sleepless nights and patching up his injuries and comforting him after nightmares that has him thrashing in the sheets—

But he can’t survive without you. It’s a simple little fact that gives him the power to move mountains; there are none bigger than the mess of his own head.

Exhaustion creeps up on him, and he can’t help but struggle against it. Fighting to keep his eyes open, his thoughts spill into the air. “Need to take care of her first.”

“Taking care of yourself is taking care of her,” Steven says gently. Have they had this conversation already? Marc’s been so singled in on this mission that everything else has fallen by the wayside. He can’t remember the last thing he ate, or what he’s wearing under the suit. The ground is the softest thing he’s ever felt.

If there’s any comparison to be made between you and Layla, it’s that he’s failed both of you. Maybe he could be different this time. Even if you decide that you want nothing to do with him after all this, he could still get help. He’ll have Steven and Jake. He’ll have himself and his scrappy resolve and the memories of this heart-aching pain, and maybe he’ll finally get better.

Marc lets his eyes close; the body needs rest for what’s to come. You don’t deserve any less than their best.

Just a few more hours.

Marc watches the fight from their headspace. Jake doesn’t miss a single shot and never so much as falters when one of them manages to land a hit. This is the longest break Marc’s gotten from fronting in a while, but he can’t bring himself to look away.

Jake loops their arm around the neck of cultist unlucky enough to be nearby, gripping his hair so hard Marc can nearly feel the strands through his fingers, feel it when Jake jerks their arm to the side and twists—

Your handlers left you alone in another room with nothing but a hard cot to curl into as you waited for them to retrieve you again. Locked inside but unbound—Marc hates how you startle when he breaks through the door.

Eyes wide, your mouth opens and closes multiple times without success. “You—you came.”

Marc wishes there weren’t so much surprise in your tone. Of course he came for you, it was never a choice for him—for any of them.

But clearly there was a part of you that thought he wouldn’t, wasn’t there? That he might just leave you in the clutches of some power-hungry cult because—because what, you’re not his ex-wife? Because you think he doesn’t love you?

The need to rectify that pierces his heart. He pulls you close, knuckles white in your shirt. “I love you.”

You shake in his arms. “Marc—”

“I love you.”

The words don’t stop; they fall from his lips like a prayer. Even as you weep, soaking the suit with your tears, he says it. I love you. I love you. I love you. In every variation, in every way—he’ll never let you believe otherwise again. He’ll say it over and over, work tirelessly to become the man you both deserve. For the rest of your lives. For the rest of time.

However long you’ll give him.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #mk bingo 2024

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amethystarachnid · 16 days ago

Note

Hey! I wanted to request Loki x reader fanfic. Can it be arranged marriage with slow burn au where the reader is a princess of a small kingdom who never thought she'd be marrying into a higher kingdom let alone Asgard. So is surprised when is betrothed to loki. She tried to give him benifit of doubt but we'll he acts like an ass and she decides to give it to him back equally. They both banter and throw sarcastic jibes during the courting period and after the marriage but over time they become friends and then lovers. Maybe She calls odin out on his bullshit and bias towards thor, and all the fun family dynamics with frigga and thor.

Thank you! And wishing you a happy new year!✨🍀

THE ROYAL LOVERS

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, some angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open (only by asks)

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 11k (I dont think I can make it more slow burn than this lol)

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You sit in the grand hall of your father’s castle, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the cold marble floors. The room feels heavier than usual, the weight of your father’s words pressing down on your chest. Betrothed. You turn the word over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to figure out how this has become your reality.

“To one of Asgard’s princes?” you repeat, unable to mask the disbelief in your tone.

Your father nods, his expression grave yet tinged with pride. “Yes, daughter. This alliance is a great honor for our kingdom. A union with Asgard strengthens our position, ensures our prosperity, and secures peace for generations to come.”

Peace. Prosperity. You’ve heard these words countless times before, always in speeches or during court gatherings when foreign diplomats visit. Now they’re being used as the justification for altering the course of your entire life.

You swallow hard. “And which prince?”

A pause stretches between you, long enough for your heart to skip several anxious beats. Your father finally answers, his voice calm, though his eyes betray some unease. “Prince Loki.”

The name settles over you like a shadow. You’ve heard stories of Asgard, of its golden spires and indomitable warriors. Tales of its princes, too—Thor, the golden-haired god of thunder, beloved by all, and Loki, the sharp-tongued trickster whose reputation is far more ambiguous.

You straighten in your chair, forcing yourself to remain composed despite the storm building inside you. “I see. And when am I to meet this... prince?”

“Soon,” your father says. “King Odin and Queen Frigga have agreed to host a meeting at their palace. You will accompany me to Asgard in three days' time.”

Three days. That’s all the time you have to prepare yourself for the encounter that will determine your future. You nod stiffly and rise from your seat, excusing yourself from the conversation.

Once you’re alone in your chambers, the weight of it all crashes down on you. You pace the room, the rich fabrics of your dress swishing around your legs, your mind racing. Betrothed to a prince of Asgard. It sounds like something out of a storybook, but you’re no naïve dreamer. You know enough to understand the realities of political alliances.

Still, you can’t help but wonder: why would Asgard—a kingdom so vast and powerful it dwarfs your own—be interested in such a union?

Three days later, you stand before the shimmering Bifrost Bridge, its prismatic light almost blinding. The sight of it steals your breath, though you quickly compose yourself as the Asgardian guards usher you and your father toward the grand palace that looms in the distance.

The palace is even more magnificent than the stories described, its golden towers piercing the sky, its halls adorned with treasures from realms beyond your imagination.

You feel small here, insignificant. But you refuse to let it show.

In the throne room, King Odin sits atop his gilded seat, his presence commanding, even intimidating. Beside him stands Queen Frigga, her beauty and poise as striking as the rumors claimed. The sight of her eases your nerves slightly; she seems kind, her gentle smile a stark contrast to the stern expressions of her husband and the guards flanking the room.

And then you see him.

Prince Loki.

He stands a step behind his parents, dressed in sleek black and green, the golden accents of his attire catching the light. His dark hair is neatly combed back, his pale features sharp and angular. There’s an air of arrogance about him, a cool detachment that only adds to his enigmatic aura.

Your father bows, and you quickly follow suit, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor.

“Your Majesties,” your father begins, his voice steady. “It is an honor to stand before you. I thank you for welcoming us into your home.”

Odin nods curtly, his single eye fixed on your father. “We are pleased to have you here. This alliance is of great importance to both our realms.”

Frigga steps forward, her smile warm. “And you must be the princess,” she says, addressing you directly.

You lift your head, meeting her gaze. “Yes, Your Majesty. It is a privilege to be here.”

Frigga’s smile widens, and for a moment, you feel at ease. But the feeling is short-lived as you catch Loki’s gaze. He’s watching you, his expression unreadable.

“Loki,” Odin says, gesturing toward you. “This is the princess, your betrothed.”

The words hang in the air like a thunderclap. Loki’s lips curl into a faint, almost dismissive smirk. He inclines his head slightly but says nothing.

You suppress the urge to bristle. Fine, you think. If he’s going to be curt, so be it.

Frigga notices the tension and steps in, her voice soothing. “Why don’t the two of you take a moment to speak privately? Get to know one another.”

Your father nods in agreement. “An excellent idea.”

Before you can protest, you’re being led to a nearby chamber, Loki following behind you at a leisurely pace. Once the door closes, you turn to face him, your hands clasped tightly in front of you.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick, uncomfortable.

“So,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound calm. “It seems we are to be married.”

Loki leans against the nearest wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Indeed. Though I must admit, I find the arrangement rather curious.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Curious? In what way?”

He shrugs, his tone casual but laced with condescension. “Our kingdoms are not exactly equals. One might wonder what my father hopes to gain from such a union.”

The words sting, but you refuse to let him see it. Instead, you smile sweetly, matching his tone. “Perhaps he hopes I’ll teach you some manners.”

Loki’s eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he regains his composure. “Manners? How quaint. I wasn’t aware my betrothed was a tutor.”

You take a step closer, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I wasn’t aware mine was a child.”

His smirk falters, and for a moment, you think you’ve won. But then he chuckles, low and amused. “You have spirit, I’ll give you that. It’s almost endearing.”

“Almost?” you echo, tilting your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, though I doubt you intended it as one.”

Loki studies you for a moment, his green eyes piercing. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And neither are you,” you reply, refusing to look away.

The tension in the room is palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging between you. Finally, Loki straightens, his expression unreadable once more.

“This should be interesting,” he says, his voice quiet but carrying an edge.

You don’t respond, watching as he strides toward the door and leaves without another word.

When you return to the throne room, Frigga gives you a knowing look, as if she can sense the clash of wills that just occurred.

“I trust you had a productive conversation,” she says gently.

You offer her a polite smile. “It was... enlightening.”

Loki says nothing, his expression calm but his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place.

As the meeting concludes and you prepare to return to your chambers at Asgard for now, you can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning of a battle of wits and wills. And for the first time since hearing of the betrothal, you find yourself almost looking forward to the challenge.

The news spreads faster than you’d expect. Within days of the announcement, the realms are abuzz with the most unlikely engagement of the century: Loki, the so-called “trickster prince” of Asgard, and you, the princess of a modest but proud kingdom.

You learn of the reactions secondhand—your father shares reports from neighboring realms, some of which range from incredulous laughter to outright disbelief. Even within Asgard, whispers fill the air. Servants, courtiers, even the warriors of the great halls exchange furtive glances as you pass, clearly wondering how and why such a union has come to be.

You, however, have no answers for them.

Forced to stay in Asgard for the duration of your courtship, you find yourself in a whirlwind of carefully orchestrated meetings, formal dinners, and—most excruciating of all—dates.

The first one is planned with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt. Frigga herself announces it over breakfast, her tone pleasant but brooking no argument.

“The two of you will take a walk through the gardens this afternoon,” she says, her serene expression giving no indication that this is a royal decree rather than a suggestion. “It’s a lovely day, and I’m sure you’ll find the fresh air invigorating.”

Loki, seated across from you at the lavish dining table, barely looks up from his plate. “Invigorating,” he echoes dryly, his tone implying that being dragged into the sunlight is the last thing he finds appealing.

You sip your tea, determined not to let him ruin your mood. “It sounds delightful,” you say, forcing a bright smile.

When the time comes, the “walk” is as awkward as you anticipated. The gardens of Asgard are, of course, stunning, with vibrant flowers and towering trees that look as though they were sculpted by the gods themselves. But the beauty of your surroundings does little to ease the tension between you and your betrothed.

“You seem thrilled to be here,” you remark as you stroll along a cobblestone path, glancing at Loki. He walks a step ahead of you, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression neutral.

“I’m beside myself with joy,” he replies without missing a beat.

You roll your eyes. “If you hate this so much, why not just tell your parents you’re not interested? I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Loki stops, turning to face you with an arched brow. “You think I haven’t tried? My father, as you may have noticed, is not particularly accommodating when it comes to matters of ‘duty.’”

You shrug. “Neither is mine. But at least I’m trying to make the best of it.”

“Ah, yes,” Loki says, his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re positively brimming with enthusiasm. Tell me, is sarcasm a custom in your kingdom, or is it just your natural talent?”

“It’s a survival skill,” you shoot back, crossing your arms. “Particularly useful when dealing with insufferable princes.”

Loki laughs—a genuine laugh, though he quickly masks it with a cough. “Touché.”

The rest of the walk is less tense, though the banter continues. By the time you return to the palace, you’re both mildly annoyed but also—if you’re honest with yourself—mildly entertained.

The dates that follow are no less eventful.

One afternoon, you’re coerced into accompanying Loki to the library, which he claims is his “sanctuary.” You quickly learn that by “sanctuary,” he means a place where he can hide from people and indulge in his penchant for mocking their intellectual inadequacies.

“You know,” you say, trailing your fingers along the spines of ancient tomes as Loki lounges in a nearby chair, “if you put half as much effort into being pleasant as you do into being smug, you might actually be tolerable.”

“Why would I aim for tolerable when I can achieve perfection?” he counters, not looking up from his book.

You grab the nearest volume and plop it unceremoniously onto the table in front of him. “Here. Enlighten me, oh wise one.”

Loki picks up the book, glances at the title, and smirks. “A Beginner’s Guide to Asgardian History? How quaint.”

You grin, leaning on the table. “Well, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you with anything too advanced.”

For a moment, his eyes meet yours, and you swear you see a flicker of amusement there. Then he closes the book with a theatrical sigh. “Very well. Sit, and I’ll educate you—though I can’t promise you’ll retain anything.”

By the end of the afternoon, you’ve learned more about Asgardian history than you ever thought you’d care to know. And, despite his constant teasing, Loki is an excellent teacher.

Another date—a “ride” across the Bifrost on enchanted steeds—proves to be even more chaotic.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” Loki asks as you mount your steed, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

“Of course,” you reply confidently, though your grip on the reins betrays your nerves.

As the horses take off, galloping across the shimmering bridge, you quickly realize that Asgardian steeds are not like those of your kingdom. They’re faster, stronger, and seemingly unbothered by the laws of gravity.

You let out an involuntary squeal as your horse leaps into the air, soaring above the bridge for a heart-stopping moment before landing gracefully.

Behind you, Loki laughs—an infuriating, delighted sound. “Having fun, princess?”

“Shut up!” you shout, gripping the reins tighter.

By the time the ride is over, your hair is a mess, your heart is pounding, and you’re thoroughly mortified. Loki, of course, looks as composed as ever.

“Well,” he says as you dismount, his smirk firmly in place, “that was exhilarating. Shall we go again?”

You glare at him, brushing strands of hair from your face. “Don’t push your luck.”

Despite the constant banter, you find yourself… not hating his company as much as you expected. Loki, for all his arrogance, is undeniably clever, and his sharp wit keeps you on your toes. He’s also surprisingly observant, occasionally making remarks that reveal a deeper understanding of you than you’re comfortable admitting.

For his part, Loki seems to enjoy sparring with you, though he never lets on too much. There are moments when his smirk softens, when his eyes linger on yours a little longer than necessary. But just as quickly, he retreats behind his usual façade of indifference.

The days pass, and the courtship continues, much to the amusement of the palace staff and the frustration of your parents.

“They’re impossible,” Odin mutters one evening after dinner, watching as you and Loki exchange yet another round of playful insults.

“They’re perfect for each other,” Frigga replies with a smile, her gaze warm as she watches the two of you.

Perfect. You wouldn’t go that far. But as you lie awake in your chambers that night, replaying the day’s events in your mind, you can’t deny that something about Loki intrigues you.

And though you’d never admit it, you’re starting to think that this arrangement might not be so terrible after all.

The day of your wedding looms ever closer, and Asgard hums with preparations. The golden halls are adorned with garlands of flowers, banners bearing the crests of your kingdom and Asgard hang side by side, and the palace is abuzz with activity. Servants scurry to and fro, courtiers gossip behind jeweled fans, and Frigga oversees every detail with her characteristic grace.

You, meanwhile, feel like a tightly coiled spring, caught between nervous anticipation and the persistent irritation that comes from dealing with Loki.

If the prince’s attitude was difficult before, it’s positively maddening now. You’re not sure what changed, but he’s been colder, more distant, his biting remarks sharper than usual.

One day, as you’re walking through the palace gardens, you decide to confront him.

“Alright, what’s your problem?” you demand, stepping in front of him and blocking his path.

Loki arches a brow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to corner him. “You’ll have to be more specific, princess. I have so many.”

You cross your arms. “Don’t play coy. You’ve been acting like an even bigger ass than usual lately, and I want to know why.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You flatter me with your concern.”

“I’m serious, Loki.” Your voice softens, though your gaze remains firm. “If I’ve done something to upset you, just tell me.”

For a moment, his expression falters, and you think he might actually answer you. But then his smirk returns, colder than before.

“Perhaps I’m simply preparing you for the reality of being married to me,” he says, his tone light but laced with something darker.

Your stomach twists, but you refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “Fine,” you snap. “Be an ass. See if I care.”

You storm off, leaving him standing in the garden, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

The tension between you only worsens with the arrival of Thor.

The golden-haired prince returns from a long mission, his presence immediately commanding attention wherever he goes. Thor is everything Loki is not—open, friendly, and effortlessly charming. He greets you with a beaming smile, his blue eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

“You must be the princess,” he says, clasping your hand in his large, calloused one. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” you reply, returning his smile.

“Of course!” Thor’s laughter booms through the hall, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. “I can see now why my brother is so reluctant to share his time with you. He must be afraid I’ll steal you away!”

You laugh politely, though the comment catches you off guard. Before you can respond, Loki appears at Thor’s side, his expression carefully neutral.

“Thor,” he says smoothly, his tone deceptively light. “How delightful of you to join us. I see you’ve already met my betrothed.”

“Indeed, I have!” Thor claps a hand on Loki’s shoulder, grinning. “She’s delightful. You’re a lucky man, brother.”

Loki’s smile tightens, and you swear you see his jaw clench. “Yes,” he says, his voice a touch colder. “Lucky indeed.”

From that moment on, Loki’s demeanor shifts even further. He grows colder, more distant, and his once playful banter becomes outright cutting.

During a dinner with Thor and the royal family, you find yourself on the receiving end of one of his more caustic remarks.

“Tell me, princess,” Loki drawls, leaning back in his chair. “Have you been enjoying your time here in Asgard? Or is it too overwhelming for someone from such... modest origins?”

The table falls silent, all eyes turning to you. Thor frowns, clearly disapproving of his brother’s behavior, while Frigga gives Loki a sharp look.

You take a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Oh, it’s been lovely,” you reply sweetly. “Though I must admit, the company has been a bit... mixed.”

Thor bursts out laughing, while Loki’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“Well played, princess,” he says, his voice low and icy.

The tension between you only seems to escalate as the days pass, culminating in a heated argument the night before the wedding.

“You know,” you say, standing in the middle of the grand hall where the ceremony will take place, “if you’re so miserable about this marriage, why don’t you just call it off?”

“And bring shame to both our kingdoms?” Loki replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I think not.”

“Shame?” You scoff. “Oh, please. Everyone knows you don’t want this any more than I do.”

“And yet here we are,” he snaps, his eyes flashing with anger.

The argument spirals, both of you hurling insults and accusations until you’re both breathing heavily, standing far too close to each other.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The air crackles with tension, and you half-expect Loki to say something cruel, something to end the conversation once and for all.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he steps back, his expression unreadable. “Goodnight, princess,” he says quietly, before turning on his heel and walking away.

You’re left standing alone in the empty hall, your chest tight and your mind racing.

The day of the wedding arrives, and you wake with a mixture of dread and resignation. You’re dressed in an elaborate gown, the finest your kingdom has ever produced, and escorted to the ceremony by your father and a contingent of Asgardian guards.

The hall is packed with dignitaries and guests from across the realms, their eyes fixed on you as you make your way down the aisle. At the end of it stands Loki, dressed in black and gold, his expression a perfect mask of calm.

As you approach, you search his face for any sign of emotion, any hint of the man you’ve gotten to know over the past weeks. But he gives nothing away.

The ceremony proceeds smoothly, the vows exchanged without incident. But as you stand before the gathered crowd, your hand resting in Loki’s, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

When the officiant finally declares you husband and wife, Loki leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmurs, “The games begin, princess.”

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Bring it on, prince.”

The crowd erupts in applause, oblivious to the battle of wills raging between the two of you.

And as Loki leads you down the aisle, his hand resting lightly on yours, you can’t help but wonder what the future holds for this strange, tempestuous union. One thing is certain: life with Loki will never be dull.

The wedding feast is a blur of golden light, laughter, and endless toasts. Your smile is painted on, your cheeks aching as guests from every realm offer their congratulations. Loki plays his part impeccably, charming the crowd with his wit and occasional glances in your direction that are just shy of affectionate.

Inside, you feel like a tightly coiled spring, wound tighter with every passing moment. You know what comes after the feast. The thought sits heavy in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The hour grows late, and when the last of the guests have finally departed, you’re escorted to the chambers that have been prepared for you and Loki. The halls seem longer than usual, the distance to your destination stretching endlessly as your nerves build.

When you reach the door, the servants offer you both polite bows before disappearing down the corridor, leaving you and Loki alone.

He opens the door, gesturing for you to step inside. His expression is unreadable, though his usual smirk is noticeably absent.

The chambers are stunning, of course—richly furnished and illuminated by soft, flickering candlelight. But all you can focus on is the massive bed at the center of the room, its silken sheets and embroidered pillows looking more like a throne than a place to rest.

Loki closes the door behind you, and you hear the faint click of the lock.

You stand frozen in the middle of the room, your hands clasped tightly in front of you as you stare at the bed.

“Well,” Loki says after a moment, his voice breaking the tense silence. “I suppose this is the part where we consummate the marriage.”

Your stomach flips, and you force yourself to turn and look at him. “I... I know,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Loki studies you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Then, to your surprise, he sighs and moves to the nearest chair, sinking into it with an almost theatrical air of exasperation.

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear,” he says, resting his elbow on the armrest and propping his chin on his hand. “I have no intention of forcing you—or myself, for that matter—into anything tonight.”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he replies, his tone dry, “that we don’t actually have to do anything. All anyone needs to know is that we sayit happened. As long as we both stick to the story, no one will be the wiser.”

Relief floods through you, so sudden and intense that your knees nearly buckle. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “I find the idea of spending the night in awkward silence far more appealing than the alternative.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, nodding quickly. “Alright. I... I agree.”

“Good.” He stands and moves to the other side of the room, unfastening his cloak and draping it over a chair. “We’ll sleep in the same bed—appearances and all that—but I promise to stay on my side. You won’t even know I’m there.”

You hesitate, glancing at the bed again. “Alright,” you say softly, your voice steadier now.

Loki changes into a loose tunic and trousers while you slip behind a screen to remove your elaborate gown and don a simple nightdress. When you emerge, he’s already lying on one side of the bed, his back to you.

You climb in cautiously, keeping to the very edge of your side. The mattress dips slightly under your weight, and you can feel the faint warmth of Loki’s presence, though you’re careful not to look at him.

The silence stretches between you, heavy but not entirely uncomfortable.

“Goodnight, princess,” Loki says after a while, his voice quiet but laced with his usual sarcasm.

“Goodnight, Loki,” you reply, your lips curving into a faint smile despite yourself.

The next morning, you’re awoken by a knock at the door. Loki groans softly, rolling onto his back but making no move to get up.

“Come in,” he calls lazily.

The door opens, and a group of servants enters, carrying trays of breakfast and fresh clothing. They’re followed by Frigga, who takes one look at the rumpled bed and your mussed hair and smiles knowingly.

“I trust you both slept well,” she says, her tone light but her eyes sharp with curiosity.

Loki sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair and flashing her a lazy grin. “Like babes in a cradle, Mother.”

You flush, quickly busying yourself with the tea that one of the servants has placed on the bedside table.

Frigga’s gaze lingers on the two of you for a moment longer before she nods, clearly satisfied. “Good. The court will be eager to hear that the union has been properly sealed.”

You nearly choke on your tea, but Loki remains perfectly composed, raising an eyebrow at his mother. “Of course,” he says smoothly. “They needn’t worry about that.”

Frigga gives him a pointed look, then turns to leave, her skirts sweeping gracefully behind her.

When the door closes, you let out a shaky breath, your cheeks still burning.

“Well,” Loki says, leaning back against the headboard with a smirk. “That was convincing enough, wouldn’t you say?”

You glare at him, though there’s no real heat in it. “You could have warned me she’d ask.”

“And deprive myself of the pleasure of seeing you flustered?” He grins, clearly enjoying himself.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

The rest of the day is a whirlwind of public appearances and well-wishes from guests and courtiers. You and Loki play your roles to perfection, standing side by side and accepting congratulations with polite smiles.

But every so often, you catch Loki’s eye, and there’s a flicker of something there—something you can’t quite define.

As the sun sets and the festivities wind down, you find yourself wondering if this strange, tentative partnership might become something more.

The passing weeks blur in a mix of royal duties, public appearances, and private moments that seem far too fleeting. You and Loki settle into an unexpected, but not unwelcome, routine. It’s not one born out of affection, nor of any deep romantic feeling—at least not on your part—but something else entirely.

It’s friendship, of sorts, though it has an edge of guardedness on both sides.

Loki is still as sarcastic as ever, his barbed words often making you want to throw a pillow at him, but there’s a subtle shift in his attitude. He doesn’t try to make you uncomfortable, nor does he push you into situations that force your discomfort. Instead, he lets the two of you share moments of quiet companionship, moments that pass without him demanding anything more than just… being together.

At times, you even catch him offering a rare, genuine smile when the two of you exchange witty banter, the edge of coldness in his eyes softening for just a moment before it’s hidden away again.

It’s those moments—small, fleeting—that make you begin to wonder if there’s more to Loki than meets the eye.

But then, every time Thor is around, Loki retreats into himself. His demeanor hardens, his eyes become colder, and the playful teasing he once directed at you disappears, replaced by something almost resembling disdain.

It’s frustrating. You had grown used to Loki’s sharp wit and dry humor, but around Thor, he becomes a stranger. It’s as though he’s a different person entirely.

It’s in those moments that you realize just how much Thor’s presence affects Loki. The way his brother’s easy charm and warmth seem to have earned him the favor of everyone around them, especially their father, Odin.

The stark contrast between the two brothers becomes painfully obvious during family dinners.

On this particular evening, you’re seated at the grand table in the palace hall, flanked by Frigga on one side and Thor on the other. Loki sits at the far end, his posture rigid and his eyes fixed on his plate. The tension between the two brothers is palpable, though it’s subtle, buried beneath layers of carefully crafted politeness.

Frigga chats lightly with Thor about his latest battle, her soft voice carrying through the room. You listen attentively, though a part of you can’t help but glance over at Loki.

You can feel the weight of his silence, the way he seems to withdraw into himself whenever Thor speaks. Loki only offers the occasional half-hearted comment, his tone distant, as if he’s not really a part of the conversation.

Frigga, ever perceptive, seems to notice as well. She glances between Loki and Thor, her expression one of quiet concern.

“Loki,” she says gently, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken understanding, “is there something you wish to add?”

Loki straightens slightly but doesn’t look up from his plate. “No, Mother. I’m simply… observing.”

You can’t help but notice the way his jaw clenches, his gaze still fixed on his food as though he’s avoiding looking anyone in the eye.

Thor, ever the optimist, tries to break the tension. “Come now, brother. Surely you have a better tale to tell than mine. You’ve always been the more… creative one when it comes to storytelling.”

Loki’s eyes flicker toward Thor, but the look he gives his brother is colder than you’ve ever seen it. There’s something there, something unspoken that hangs heavy in the air between them.

“I have no tales to tell,” Loki replies coolly, his voice flat. “Not tonight.”

The silence that follows is thick, awkward. You shift in your seat, unsure of what to say, and Frigga clears her throat, clearly attempting to shift the atmosphere.

“I’m sure Loki has many stories to share when he’s in the mood, Thor,” she says, giving her son a kind smile. “But for now, perhaps we should allow him the peace to enjoy his meal in silence.”

Thor seems to take the hint, though there’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes as he nods. “Of course, Mother.”

But you notice the way he glances at Loki one last time before he turns his attention to you. He smiles, his usual warmth returning.

“It’s good to see you again, Princess,” Thor says, his voice easy and kind. “I trust you’ve settled in well?”

You smile back, grateful for the change of subject. “Yes, thank you, Thor. Asgard has been… more than welcoming.”

Loki stays silent, his fork moving absently as he pushes food around on his plate. You try not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but it’s difficult to ignore the way he seems to withdraw further with each passing moment.

Later, after the dinner has ended and the courtiers have dispersed, you find yourself walking the halls of the palace, your thoughts a tangled mess.

Loki’s behavior continues to trouble you. It’s clear that there’s something between him and Thor, something deep and unresolved. You can sense it in the way Loki acts when his brother is near, the way he retreats inward, shutting everyone else out.

And then there’s Odin. You’ve seen it too—the way the Allfather seems to favor Thor in ways that Loki could never seem to earn. The way Odin’s praise comes effortlessly to Thor, while Loki is left in the shadows, forced to fight for every scrap of recognition.

You’ve begun to notice the small things—the way Loki’s expression shifts when Odin speaks to Thor, or how he watches them both with an almost painful intensity when they stand together.

It’s hard to ignore the dynamic between them. Loki’s desire to prove himself to his father, to gain his approval in a way that seems perpetually out of reach, is something you can’t help but empathize with.

But you don’t know how to talk about it, how to approach him without making things worse.

That night, after the dinner, you retreat to your chambers, the silence of the room settling around you like a weight. Loki is already there, seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he stares out the window.

The flickering light from the torch on the wall casts shadows across his face, making his expression seem distant and closed off.

You hesitate in the doorway, unsure of what to say. But the longer you stand there, the more the words seem to push their way out.

“Loki,” you begin, your voice tentative, “I know things have been… difficult lately.”

Loki doesn’t turn around, but his shoulders tense at the sound of your voice. “Difficult? You mean the constant parade of Thor’s victories and Father’s adoration?” His words are sharp, laced with bitterness.

You step further into the room, your heart aching at the venom in his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you say quietly. “But I can see it, Loki. I can see how much it hurts you.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, Loki sighs deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to stave off a headache.

“I don’t need your pity,” he mutters. “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

You take a careful step closer, your voice soft. “I’m not pitying you, Loki. I’m just… I just don’t want you to feel alone in this.”

He laughs bitterly, his shoulders shaking as he turns to face you. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand what it’s like to be cast aside, to never be good enough no matter how hard you try?”

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you look at him. “I don’t know what that’s like,” you admit, “but I know what it’s like to feel like you’re constantly trying to prove yourself to someone who doesn’t even notice.”

Loki’s gaze flickers briefly to yours, and for a moment, there’s a crack in his armor. But it’s gone almost instantly, replaced by that familiar coldness.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he repeats, though there’s less conviction in his voice.

“I’m not offering you sympathy,” you reply firmly. “I’m just saying… if you ever want to talk about it—about anything—I’m here, Loki.”

He stares at you for a long while, his eyes unreadable. And then, with a quiet sigh, he nods once, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, princess. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

You nod, though your heart aches at the weight of his words.

“I’ll be here when you are,” you say softly.

Loki doesn’t answer, but the silence that falls between you is… less heavy somehow. Less lonely.

You’re not sure what the future holds for the two of you, but in that moment, you both find a small measure of peace.

And for now, that’s enough.

The days following your conversation with Loki are a strange blend of light and shadow. The weight of your words lingers in the air between you two, but there’s an undeniable shift. It’s subtle, at first—a slight softening in the way he looks at you, a rare but meaningful smile that occasionally plays at the corners of his lips.

But it’s clear, too, that there are walls around him, walls that are not easily torn down. You don’t press him further, content to let him open up in his own time, if at all.

Then, one evening, when the palace is quiet and the rest of the court is engaged in a distant gathering, Loki surprises you.

You’re walking down one of the many hallways, heading back to your chambers after a rather dull meeting with various nobles, when you hear his voice.

“Princess,” he calls softly, his voice carrying through the silence of the corridor.

You turn to find him standing a little ways down the hall, leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed. There’s something different in his stance—less guarded, more… open, though he still holds that impenetrable air around him.

You raise an eyebrow. “Loki? What’s the matter?”

He shifts, a subtle but noticeable tension in his posture as if he's deliberating whether or not to speak. Finally, after a beat of silence, he steps toward you, his footsteps soft on the stone floor.

“I… I’ve been thinking about our conversation,” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You give him a careful look. “What about it?”

Loki glances down, avoiding your eyes for a moment before meeting your gaze. “About my father.” His voice tightens slightly, but it’s not the usual bitterness. It’s something more raw. “You were right. I… I’ve been carrying a lot of things for a long time.”

You wait, not wanting to interrupt, giving him space to speak.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever told anyone this, but…” Loki exhales slowly, his breath shaking as if he's letting something go for the first time. “I’ve never felt like I was enough for Odin. For my father. Not in the way Thor is. Not in the way that he needs me to be.”

You step closer, drawn in by the vulnerability in his voice. “Loki…”

He shakes his head, as if frustrated with himself. “I’ve always tried to do everything he wanted. Prove myself, be the son he wanted. But it’s never been enough. Every time I think I’m close to earning his favor, Thor does something. It doesn’t even matter what. Odin just… adores him.” Loki’s words come out with a sharpness, like they’ve been pent up for years, and yet there’s an unmistakable sadness there.

You want to reach out, to comfort him, but you don’t. Not yet.

“Thor…” Loki scoffs, though it’s not with malice—more a mixture of frustration and helplessness. “He doesn’t try. He just is. And Odin… he praises him for every little thing. Meanwhile, I’m left to pick up the pieces, to try to carve out a place for myself. But nothing ever works.”

A knot forms in your chest as you listen to him. It’s impossible to ignore how deeply Loki’s words cut, how much he craves the recognition and love he feels he’ll never receive.

“I know it’s not Thor’s fault,” Loki adds, almost as an afterthought, as if the words pain him. “But sometimes, I just… I can’t help but resent him.”

There’s an ache in his voice that hits you like a physical blow, and without thinking, you step forward and place a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Loki,” you say quietly. “I can see how much this hurts you.”

His eyes soften for just a moment, a flicker of something—something like gratitude—before the walls go back up. But it’s a start.

“I know you understand,” he mutters, his gaze dropping. “It’s just… hard to admit, even to myself.”

The silence between you two stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels like a shared understanding, an unspoken bond that has formed between you.

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” you say softly, stepping back a little but keeping your eyes on him.

Loki looks at you, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, he gives you a faint smile. “Thank you.”

It’s more than he’s ever said to you in any of your interactions, and it makes your heart flutter, though you don’t show it.

“Anytime, Loki,” you reply, your voice steady, though your hands are trembling ever so slightly.

The next day, Odin makes his usual rounds through the court, his presence like a weight hanging over everyone. He speaks with courtiers, listens to reports from the generals, and gives out orders. But as usual, his praise for Thor is effusive, his voice rich with admiration.

It’s when you’re walking through the hall toward the council room that you catch the conversation between Odin and Thor. They’re speaking loudly enough for you to overhear, and you can’t help but wince as Odin lauds Thor’s latest achievement.

“Thor,” Odin says, his voice full of pride, “you’ve done the kingdom proud. Truly, your battle strategies are unmatched. I’m so glad to see you take your place as the leader Asgard needs.”

Thor laughs, clearly pleased, though there’s no sign of arrogance in him. “Thank you, Father. But I couldn’t have done it without the support of my allies.”

Odin waves off the sentiment with a chuckle, his voice warm. “Your humility is one of your finest qualities, my son.”

And that’s when it hits you—how blatant the favoritism is. How obvious it is that Odin is always quick to praise Thor, but Loki, despite his brilliance, is always left in the shadows.

Your chest tightens with the unfairness of it all. You’ve heard whispers before—how Odin has always placed Thor on a pedestal, how his approval has always been out of reach for Loki.

You’ve seen it yourself, in the way Odin looks at his sons. Thor, with his easy smiles and loud boisterousness, is clearly the favored one. Loki’s quieter, more calculating nature doesn’t seem to earn him that same adoration.

And something inside you snaps.

You’ve had enough of watching Loki suffer in silence. Enough of the obvious bias that Odin so openly displays.

With a deep breath, you step forward, deliberately interrupting the conversation between father and son.

“Lord Odin,” you say, your voice steady and louder than you expect. Both Odin and Thor turn toward you, surprised by your sudden interruption.

Odin’s eyes flicker over you, but his expression remains neutral. “Princess,” he greets, his tone polite but distant. “What is it you need?”

You take a step closer, finding the courage you’ve never had before to speak your mind. “I think it’s time someone pointed out something that’s been bothering me for some time,” you say, meeting Odin’s eyes with unwavering resolve.

Thor looks at you, clearly surprised, but Odin’s expression doesn’t change.

“I’ve noticed,” you continue, “that you never seem to acknowledge your sons equally. You give Thor praise, constantly sing his virtues, while Loki…” You glance over at him, who stands with his arms crossed, looking more uncomfortable than usual. “Loki deserves the same recognition, and it’s time someone said it.”

Thor’s eyes widen at your words, and Odin’s gaze sharpens, though he doesn’t immediately respond.

“Princess, this is a matter between my sons and I,” Odin says, his tone calm but with an edge that warns you to back down.

But you don’t. “It’s a matter of fairness,” you say, your voice unshaken. “Loki is just as capable, just as brilliant, and he deserves the same respect as Thor.”

For a long moment, there’s silence, a heavy, thick silence that seems to hang in the air. Odin’s eyes study you carefully, as if deciding whether or not to chastise you.

But then, to your surprise, he lets out a slow breath. “Perhaps you are right,” he says, his voice thoughtful, though still carrying the weight of authority. “I will consider your words, Princess.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you turn to leave. You know you’ve probably made a powerful enemy, but for once, it feels worth it.

As you walk away, you can’t help but glance back at Loki, who is now watching you with a look of surprise—and something else, something softer.

Later that night, you’re in your chambers, lost in your thoughts when a quiet knock at the door pulls you from your reverie.

You open it to find Loki standing there, his usual composed demeanor in place, though there’s something different in his expression.

“Loki,” you say, surprised to see him. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to thank you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “You didn’t have to do that. But you did.”

You shrug, trying to appear casual despite the flutter in your chest. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I know,” he replies, his tone soft. “But that doesn’t make it any less… meaningful.” He hesitates, then takes a step closer, his eyes meeting yours. “You’ve… you’ve done more for me today than anyone has in a long time.”

The words settle between you, and for a moment, everything is quiet.

You don’t know what to say. But somehow, it doesn’t matter. The air between you is charged, but calm, like a storm that’s waiting to break.

And then, without thinking, you step forward, closing the distance between you.

Loki’s breath catches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand brushes yours, tentative but warm, and that’s when you both understand.

You look into each other’s eyes for a moment, the words unsaid but understood, and then you kiss—softly, tenderly, as if this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need but never quite expected.

It’s gentle, quiet, and everything in between, and for the first time in a long time, you feel as though the walls between you are starting to fall.

The day after you stood up to Odin, something subtle but undeniable changes between you and Loki. The lingering tension that had once surrounded him, the cold barrier he had erected between himself and everyone, especially you, seems to soften just slightly. He still wears that aloof mask he’s perfected over years of deflecting people’s attention, but there are moments when he looks at you differently—like he sees you, really sees you, as something more than just the princess he was supposed to marry.

But of course, Loki is Loki, and despite the small shifts, he’s still a master of maintaining distance. He keeps his emotions locked away as tightly as his wit, but you’ve begun to notice the cracks. Maybe it’s in the way he lingers a little longer when you’re together, or how he catches your gaze in passing, holding it just a little longer than necessary.

Despite the changes between you two, the world around you continues to spin, and your role as the Princess of Asgard, as Loki’s wife, only grows more public.

The next day, after an awkward breakfast with Frigga, where she kept giving you knowing looks and you were pretty sure you heard her suppressing a sigh, you find yourself walking through the gardens, trying to escape the subtle whispers of court life.

As you stroll among the flowers, you hear footsteps behind you. A familiar, booming voice calls your name.

“Princess Y/N,” Thor’s deep voice rings out, and you stop, turning to face him.

Thor looks even more like the golden child of Asgard today, his wide smile blinding and a glimmer of guilt in his eyes. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, for what you did yesterday. Defending Loki like that.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I never saw it, you know?” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “The way Father favors me and how much it’s hurt Loki. I’ve always thought he was… I don’t know, distant, difficult. I didn’t realize I was a part of the problem.”

You blink, a little surprised by his sincerity. You’ve never seen Thor look so humble, so… vulnerable. It’s a stark contrast to the loud, boisterous warrior he usually presents to the world. “You didn’t know?” you ask softly.

He shakes his head, his broad shoulders slumping a little. “No, not really. And I’m ashamed to admit it. But I never thought about how he might feel when all the praise I get… it takes away from what he deserves. Loki’s clever, more than anyone gives him credit for. I see it now. I see how I’ve made him feel… less.”

Your heart aches a little. There’s so much more to Thor than the world gives him credit for, and perhaps there’s more to Loki’s pain than you even realized.

“Thor,” you start, your voice a little unsure but kind. “I think you need to tell him that. He needs to hear it from you.”

Thor gives a tight nod, the look in his eyes both heavy and sincere. “I will. But… I wanted to talk to you first, because I didn’t want you to think that I… I didn’t care.” He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I know you’re in a difficult position, Y/N, especially with Loki…”

You shrug lightly. “It’s not difficult. He’s my husband, Thor. I have a duty to him, yes, but I also want to see him happy. I don’t want him to feel this way anymore, either.”

“I understand,” Thor says with a soft smile. “And I promise you, I’ll try to make things right between me and Loki. But thank you. Truly.”

He offers a warm, brotherly smile and pats you on the shoulder, making you smile back, a little touched by the earnestness in his voice. It’s rare to see Thor so serious, but in moments like this, you realize just how much he cares about his family—even if it’s a little too late.

As the conversation dies down, Thor bids you farewell, walking off in the opposite direction to presumably find his brother. You remain in the gardens for a few more minutes, deep in thought. There’s a strange, almost bittersweet tension in the air now, an unspoken understanding of the dynamic between the brothers.

The next day, you find yourself walking the palace halls when you catch sight of Loki. He’s talking to a group of Asgardian nobles, but the moment he notices you, his demeanor shifts instantly. His sharp, emerald eyes cut toward you, his mouth forming a thin line. He says something to the nobles, and they scatter quickly, leaving him alone in the corridor.

You pause for a moment, unsure of how to approach him. But before you can decide, Loki walks toward you, his footsteps purposeful. You can feel the chill of his presence before he even speaks.

“What was that, then?” Loki’s voice is cool, his usual aloofness cloaking his words.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes narrow. “You and Thor,” he sneers slightly, as though saying his brother’s name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “You two spent an awfully long time together yesterday, didn’t you? Talking about me, no doubt. What was it this time? His concern for my well-being?”

You bite your lip, taking in the sharp edge of jealousy in his voice. You feel a slight pang of guilt, but you stand your ground. “We talked about you, yes. But it wasn’t to criticize you, Loki. It was about… understanding.”

Loki scoffs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, and his gaze shifts toward the floor. “I see. Understanding.”

“You don’t have to do this,” you say, your voice softer now. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Not me. Not him.”

Loki’s head jerks up, and his eyes flash with something unreadable. “I push people away because I know how this ends, Y/N. Thor always takes what he wants. He took Father’s love, and now he wants to take you, too.”

The words hit you harder than you expect, the raw, vulnerable emotion in his voice twisting something deep inside you. You take a step toward him, but he recoils slightly, his posture rigid.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, but there’s certainty in it. “Thor won’t take me from you. I won’t let him.”

Loki’s eyes flicker toward you, the flickering of something darker in his gaze before he presses his lips together in frustration. “How can you be so sure?” His voice cracks slightly, and you don’t know how to respond, except to step even closer to him.

His face softens for a fraction of a second—just long enough for you to see how fragile he really is, how deeply the idea of losing you, losing anything, is etched in him. You place a hand gently on his arm, your voice even softer now.

“I know because we talked. Thor and I. He knows the way you feel, Loki. He’s going to make things right between you two. You don’t have to push him away.”

Loki’s jaw tightens, and you can see the battle within him, the struggle to trust his brother again. But then, something shifts in him, and his gaze softens, if only for a moment.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Loki admits in a low voice, the words barely audible, as though he’s afraid of speaking them too loud, afraid of what they might mean.

You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin, and he leans into your touch. “You won’t lose me, Loki. I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice is steady, and you see his breath hitch slightly as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him.

He looks away quickly, his throat tightening, but the tremor in his shoulders betrays him. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, barely holding it together.

“Don’t say that,” you reply firmly. “You’re not perfect. None of us are. But you deserve all the love and respect in the world. And I’m here, Loki. Always.”

He looks at you then, his expression softening with that familiar vulnerability you’ve seen fleetingly in the past few days, but it’s stronger now, more present than ever before. Without thinking, you pull him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around him tightly. For a long moment, he doesn’t respond, his body stiff in your arms, but then he exhales slowly, his breath shaky, and finally, he holds you back.

The weight of everything between you two finally lifts, and the walls crumble a little more. The steady rhythm of his breathing in your arms is all you need to know that he feels safe.

Later that night, when you retire to your chambers, Loki follows you, a quiet presence in the doorway.

You look at him, feeling something deep inside you—a need for closeness, for reassurance that everything will be okay. “Stay with me?” you ask softly, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you see something like relief wash over his face.

“I don’t think I can ever go back,” he says quietly, his voice laced with exhaustion, vulnerability.

You reach for him, and without another word, Loki walks into your arms, settling beside you on the bed. You pull the blankets up around both of you, and without a word, you curl up against him.

His arm drapes around you naturally, and you breathe in the warmth of his presence, the security of knowing that, no matter what happens, you

’ve found something real between you two.

“Thank you,” Loki murmurs softly, as if you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted, even when you haven’t fully realized it yourself.

You smile, tracing circles on his chest with your fingers, whispering back, “No need for thanks. Just stay here, with me.”

The night deepens, and the world outside your chambers is cloaked in quiet, but inside, there’s an unmistakable warmth that envelopes both of you. Loki’s arm around you feels like the most natural thing in the world. As the minutes pass, you rest your head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. There’s a comfort in the silence, in just being close to him. You feel safe here, as if this moment is yours and yours alone, something you both can keep in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Loki doesn’t speak, but the occasional brush of his lips against your temple is all the words you need. Each kiss is a small promise, gentle and soft, as though he’s trying to tell you everything his voice cannot. The warmth of his lips against your skin lingers long after he pulls back, and the weight of the past few months—the distance, the uncertainty, the doubts—slowly begins to dissolve. You realize now that it was never about the marriage contract, nor the obligations that bound you together; it was about this—this connection between the two of you that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to surface.

You kiss him back, tentatively at first, but as you feel him pull you closer, your kisses deepen. They’re slow and deliberate, as though you both want to savor this, to make sure it isn’t just a fleeting moment but a beginning. His lips are warm and soft, and every time they meet yours, there’s a spark—a connection that has been years in the making, one that now feels as though it’s blooming into something beautiful, fragile, and new.

The kisses grow longer, more meaningful, as if both of you are learning how to express the things you’ve kept hidden for so long. Loki’s hand gently cradles your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, as if memorizing the feel of your skin. He deepens the kiss slightly, and you meet him with equal fervor, the world outside fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you, tangled in the quiet intimacy of shared tenderness.

When the kiss finally breaks, neither of you moves, just breathing in the same air. Loki’s forehead rests gently against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath, still heavy with emotion.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite put into words. It’s a question, but more than that, it’s a plea—a quiet request for this peace to last.

“I will,” you reply softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. And you mean it, more than anything. You know that, in this moment, everything between you has changed.

The night goes on quietly, both of you finding comfort in each other’s presence, the soft and tender kisses gradually fading into the warmth of shared silence. It’s a perfect peace, a moment of vulnerability and connection that neither of you had ever expected but now can’t imagine living without.

As the days pass, the dynamic between you and Loki shifts. What once seemed like a forced relationship, something borne out of duty and circumstance, is now something more. The distance that once existed between you two has shrunk, replaced by an ease that only comes when two people begin to trust each other in ways neither expected. Your interactions are now filled with light touches, shared glances, and quiet smiles. There’s a softness in Loki’s demeanor that wasn’t there before—a gentleness that’s slowly replacing the walls he’s built around himself.

You see it in the way he looks at you, the way he seeks out your presence even when there’s no need for it. There’s an undeniable shift in his behavior, one that others notice, too.

Frigga, ever observant, notices the change in the air the moment she steps into the palace halls. She smiles knowingly when she sees the way Loki watches you during breakfast, his eyes soft and full of affection. It’s the first time she’s seen him like this in a long while—less guarded, more present. She watches you both from across the room, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and relief. For all the missteps and misunderstandings, she’s always known that the two of you could find something real.

Thor, too, sees the change, though he’s not as subtle in his observations. He slaps Loki on the back one afternoon, his booming laugh echoing through the palace halls. “Well, well! Looks like someone’s finally figured it out,” he teases, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Loki stiffens at first, but then the corner of his lips quirks up, a smirk that’s less mocking and more content than it’s ever been. “What do you mean?” Loki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t play coy,” Thor says, his tone playful. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s about time, brother.”

Loki sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’m not in the mood for your commentary, Thor.”

But even as he says this, there’s a subtle flush to his cheeks, a fleeting moment of embarrassment that makes you chuckle softly. Loki’s pride may be as sharp as ever, but there’s a vulnerability there too, one that he tries to hide behind his biting sarcasm and quick wit.

As the days go by, your connection to Loki only deepens. The two of you spend more time together, finding moments of quiet solace amid the chaos of palace life. You talk—about everything and nothing at all. You learn more about each other in those quiet, unspoken moments than you ever did in the months before. It’s in the way he brushes your hair out of your face when it falls in your eyes or how he looks at you when you laugh at something absurd he says. It’s in the way he remembers small details about you, like the way you take your tea or how you always tie your shoes in the same knot.

The change doesn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. The courtiers whisper about it, the nobles gossip behind their fans. They notice the way Loki looks at you when you enter the room, how his eyes soften when you speak. They notice how the two of you sit together at dinner, heads close, sharing small private jokes no one else seems to understand. The shift in the way he treats you is almost palpable, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of the palace to catch on.

But the real surprise comes from the children.

It starts innocently enough. One evening, as you walk through the palace gardens with Loki, you hear giggling in the distance. When you look around, you see a group of young children playing near the fountain. They stop as soon as they notice you, eyes widening before they run over to you, their faces alight with excitement.

“Princess Y/N!” one of them exclaims, a little girl with bright red hair. “Is it true that you and Prince Loki are really married now?”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the question, but before you can answer, another child chimes in.

“Yes! I heard you two are so in love!” The child’s voice is full of awe, as though this is the most magical thing they’ve ever heard.

Loki scoffs, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes. “I assure you, we’re simply fulfilling our duties. Nothing more.”

But the children aren’t convinced. They gather around you, bombarding you with questions. “When will you have babies?” one of them asks innocently.

You blush deeply, not quite sure how to handle the question. Loki looks absolutely mortified, but there’s an amused edge to his expression.

“Well,” you start, unsure of what to say, “we haven’t really discussed that yet. But we’re very happy.”

“Oh, I bet you are!” another child giggles, clearly not taking you seriously. “You two are always together now. You must be so in love!”

Loki looks at you in mild horror. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth in your chest spread. “I think we’ve just become a fairytale, Loki.”

The children’s excitement doesn’t end there. The next day, they’re playing again, this time reenacting your supposed “love story” with elaborate costumes. They insist on calling you and Loki the “Royal Lovers of Asgard,” and you can’t help but smile at their innocent enthusiasm. It’s impossible not to see the joy they find in the idea of your relationship, an idea that, in their eyes, is full of magic and wonder. The way they view you both—so wrapped up in this imagined romance—is innocent and sweet, and it makes you realize how far you and Loki have come.

As the days go by, the children’s stories spread throughout the palace. The courtiers begin whispering more frequently about the Royal Lovers, and soon enough, even the servants are in on the tale. You and Loki have become the subject of countless stories, both real and imagined. The court’s expectations of your relationship have shifted, but for the first time, it feels like you’re not just playing a part anymore. You’re both actively shaping this life, together.

And for all the teasing from Thor and the gossips from the children, there’s a part of you that feels proud of what you’ve built. It may have started as a duty, a contract forged by fate, but now it feels like something more. You and Loki are no longer bound by obligation alone. There’s affection, there’s trust, and there’s something deeper—something far more real.

It’s not the fairytale the kingdom expected, but it’s yours. And somehow, that feels perfect.

part 2 with royal kids? ;)

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kleinstar · 10 months ago

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" .... "

Sure. This'd be something right up his alley - when he was a teenager anyway. Back then he'd been more or less looking for trouble but ended up growing up a little more considerate to his surroundings.

Doesn't mean he was necessarily going to turn Yuri's suggestion down though.

" ....I'm taking your word for it then. I've done stallwork before I can probably make it! "

It was definitely nothing even remotely akin to this but ...details, details. Precision work can't be too target dependent right? Slowly he lowers the mallet on the ball. Oh gravity please be merciful...

" Tits or no --- here I come!! "

Clack goes the ball! At first, everything seems promising enough. It makes a handsome arch above the sea of heads towards the goal. As its' altitude drops it's still well on its way until finally out of sight.

And just as the supposed final impact's supposed to happen rush of people cover the sight for a moment. As they however disperse a loud CLASH can be heard as the alcohol free punch spreads onto the table....

At least it's not the only one around?

"depends. it'll be fun-- and that's what we're here for, right?" leaning carelessly forward on his mallet as he says it, yuri's the poster child of mischief.

risking destruction in a setting like this isn't his usual M.O., but he isn't suggesting it for chaos' sake. honestly, adrenaline might do eiden some good; despite him being the more docile of the two (mostly), yuri knows he's no stranger to risky situations.

"i'll be your fall guy if it goes tits-up. guild's honor," he swears with a hand on his heart (though guilds mean nothing here, it sounds fittingly reassuring), "nothing to worry about if you do well, anyway. just don't mess up."

#darkenforcer #darkenforcer05 #dkkdkdk he isnt completely off course there though maybe this ones a little 'shiiiit'#but he's weak to pressure from friends lol #eidens party shenanigans : ended up accidentally tossing meatball to someone's drink #now breaking property #and ofc the fight with aury kdkfk #if someone had a bingo board they might make it

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astralis-ortus · 6 months ago

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gummy bears

✱ college student!hj x gn!reader

— art school is hard—at least having a muse makes it a little easier.

w.count → 1.8k genre → fluff...? warning → mild cussing, as per usual♡ a.n → hi!! i'm back with a new face addition to the page! hahah honestly i thought it would be either minho or seungmin first but ngl hyunnie has been tugging on my hearstrings lately he's such a silly little mandu i love him sm :( hope you guys find the story as enjoyable as chris' side of the blog, and also if anyone is interested for a commission there are slots available still♡ ⋆ see masterlist

has it always been this… weird?

your attention should’ve been sealed at the projected slides once the professor started the countdown on his infamous ‘how-long-can-i-yap-before-my-students-fall-asleep’ course, but holy smokes—even breathing seemed like a major task when you could barely peel your thoughts off the boy sitting a few rows in front of you.

hyunjin has always been the main attention-grabber wherever he went—and that includes yours.

it’s not like you denying it either. he is gorgeous, and even the heavens know you couldn’t help but glance in his direction whenever he’s in the room. hell, even a few of your initial sketches for last semester’s projects were inspired by hyunjin. it’s as if he had slowly solidified his spot as your muse—but what is this odd feeling gently fluttering between the rows of your ribcage?

a buzz from the pocket of your pants startled you out of your trance, and while you thanked the gods for sending you down here with a habit of putting your phone on constant silent, you peeked at the notification patiently perched on the screen of your phone—one nearly causing you a minor heart attack on the spot.

hyunjin: spot next to me is empty, you know

right—you forgot your position from a mere classmate-slash-secret-admirer has been upgraded to an actual acquaintance-slash-almost-friend of hyunjin’s, all thanks to that one final project from art history 101 class last semester.

you: being at the back is peaceful, thanks hyunjin: says the one who rushed for a front spot for literally any other class lol hyunjin: cmon, saved the spot for you

lord—now you’re genuinely glad you decided to wear that crusty baseball cap of yours today, or literally everyone would’ve noticed the way your cheeks had burned up into a bright shade of crimson.

you: geez hyunjin: cmoooon hyunjin: or i’ll literally ask mr. kang to move you here

the way your head snapped to find hyunjin’s playful yet determined gaze headed straight at you was not something you would’ve ever thought to add to your bingo board.

ever.

you: no you won’t hyunjin: try me

your eyes nearly doubled in size when you returned your line of sight in hyunjin’s direction, only to see the slow, comical way the long-haired guy is raising his hand while keeping his eyes on you, lips tipped up into a masked grin.

“yes, mr. hwang?”

fuck.

you scrambled on your phone while mr. kang—as well as the rest of the attendees of the class, fixed their eyes on hyunjin, quietly wondering what would come out of those lips of his.

“oh, i’m just wondering if—"

you: FINE I’M MOVING you: JUST SHUT UP you: PLEASE

And you swore you could see the way his lips turned into a victorious grin through the back of his head.

“if?” mr. kang repeated, seemingly a little impatient at hyunjin’s antics. to be fair, you actually felt the same way.

“if you have any movie or documentaries related to the topics you will be teaching this semester,” hyunjin’s voice rang loud and clear—as if the question had been his initial motive all along, and you’re simply a victim of his little magic trick.

“personally i do learn better through those mediums, mr. kang,” hyunjin perfected his question, smile as innocent as a puppy, and as he looked around the hall, scanning the dozens of nodding heads to his statement,

hyunjin made sure to lock eyes with you for a second longer.

“and i think my friends agree with me.”

“you’re an ass,” you hissed as soon as you secured the seat next to hyunjin, shooting daggers out of your eyes while the latter chuckled. given, hyunjin’s question did made your move less suspicious since mr. kang actually took a liking to the idea and decided to substitute one of the assignments into this movie presentation group project, but still—you were so close to losing your dignity in front of dozens of your peers, on the first day of the new semester.

“would’ve been easier had you listened the first time,” he playfully retorted, remnants of victory still glimmered in his eyes, “and now you know i’m a man of my words. win-win situation for both of us.”

“as if,” you groaned in annoyance despite failing to even make a dent to hyunjin’s victorious grin. “you are the only one benefiting from this, mr. hwang. i’m merely a victim in this scheme of yours.”

“ouch—mr. hwang? really now?” hyunjin placed a hand over his heart, pretending as if he has been shot despite the wicked smile plastered across his face, “do you really want to hurt me like that?”

if you were to be honest, you do enjoy your playful bickers with hyunjin. it made him less of a muse and more of a… human. a regular college boy, who just so happened to be blessed by the goddess of beauty herself and sent here with an exceptional heart of gold.

like he’s just a boy.

“seemed fair enough,” instead, you replied with a mischievous grin while greeting a couple of hyunjin’s friends joining your little group.

“1-1, mr. hwang.”

the massive numbers displayed on your phone screen further validates the exhaustion you felt looming over your shoulders. it’s only the first week of the new semester and you’re already held up on campus way past your classes—how are you supposed to survive the rest of the school year?

to be fair, you really do love what you’re studying right now. it’s what you’ve always wanted to be since you were a child, and to be able to live out your inner child’s dream is one of your prides—but god, it did not make things easier to actually do.

just as you slipped your screen away, sparing yourself from a bunch of exhausting thoughts as your footsteps led you to your bus stop, a pack of gummy bear suddenly popped out of thin air in front of your eyes, causing you to stumble backwards onto the—

warm surface?

“i’m not a gummy sharing type of person, but i think you need this more than i do.”

pushing yourself off the other’s figure, you didn’t need to turn around to figure out the person’s identity—but you did anyway.

“gee, thanks mr. hwang,” you playfully snickered, snatching the bag of gummy and popped one unfortunate strawberry flavored bear in your mouth, “didn’t know you’re so kind.”

over the past week, you found out that you surprisingly have quite a lot of classes together with hyunjin and a few of his friends. you’re thankful he dropped the ‘i saved you a seat’ act by the third class you shared and let you actually sit amongst your friends, but in ways you don’t even understand, you somehow kept getting sorted in the same groups as hyunjin. well, at least now you no longer freeze up while hyunjin’s around.

“oh, can you drop that already,” hyunjin groaned, lips pursing into a subtle pout, “the others are starting to call me mr. hwang too thanks to you, you know.”

you couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip past your lips to hyunjin’s protest, already with a picture in your head about the whining he would’ve done once his closest friends started to pick up hyunjin’s objection to the nickname and used the name against him. how adorable he would’ve—

wait.

adorable?

hyunjin’s supposed to be simply your muse—maybe a friend at best! you don’t call your friends adorable, do you?

“you started it!” shaking your head in an attempt to rid the word from the nooks and crannies of your brain, you instead defended yourself while offering hyunjin the pack of gummies at the same time.

“what do you mean i started it!” hyunjin groaned, still popping a gummy in his mouth in the process, “i was just simply requesting your presence at the spot I have reserved for you!”

“and threatened to embarrass me if i didn’t move!” you deflected, playfully glaring at the latter. “don’t you dare omit that part, you sneaky weasel! i thought I was going to have to drop the class due to embarrassment!”

the crease between hyunjin’s brows grew thicker when he realized he couldn’t counter your protest, resulting in another pout to form on his lips, now clearer than before. it made you feel a little guilty—did you go a little too far? was he offended by the—

“i just wanted to get closer to you.”

…wait.

wait—what?

“i know it’s a lame excuse,” hyunjin’s groans turn muffled as he hid his face behind the palms of his hands, “it’s just—i don’t know, i find you fun? i know we just started talking after that group project but i like talking about stuff with you and even after the group project ended i just kept finding myself wanting to talk to you? i just—”

“whoa whoa—slow down!” you instinctively grabbed hyunjin’s shoulders; not too hard to shake him off, just enough to gently ground him back from his rambles. “breathe, you don’t need to explain anything to me, hyunjin. just breathe.”

well, frankly you do need an explanation—just… not from this adorably frantic hyunjin.

no, scratch that—just frantic.

not adorably.

just frantic.

hyunjin’s face was nearly the shade of the gummy bear packet you still had on your hand, and as much as you didn’t want to embarrass him more than he’s already feeling, your lips seemed to have their own plans when they curled up into a grin.

“don’t even say anything,” he warned, fingers now pointing at the rapidly growing grin on your face. “just don’t.”

you would honestly love to comply to hyunjin’s wishes, really—after all, you’re the type to honor and respect your friend’s wishes…

but is he just a friend?

“I’m not!” you stated, but despite throwing your hands up in a sign of defeat, hyunjin knew better when he noticed the constant degree of smile etched across your face,

“I just never would have thought that the campus crush,” you emphasized, trails of laughter already slipping past your lips in harmony to hyunjin’s exasperated sigh, “the mr. hwang hyunjin himself, is quite clumsy at making new friends.”

hyunjin was genuinely dumbfounded at your accusation.

“no i’m not!” he protested, subconsciously following your footstep as you got ready to catch your nearing bus, “it’s not that i’m bad at making friends, i just—”

hyunjin’s explanation were cut short when your bus finally arrived, prompting another frown to appear on his face when you hopped on without sparing him another glance. dejected, hyunjin turned around and—

“hyunjin!”

the speed at how quickly hyunjin turned on his heels at your voice nearly made you giggle. from one of the opened windows from the back of the bus, you locked eyes with hyunjin and smiled.

“text me your excuses and we’ll see if you’re actually good at making friends!” you shouted as the bus began to drove away, only allowing you to witness a faint ‘okay!’ along with an excited wave before hyunjin disappeared behind the curve of the crossroad.

well, maybe hyunjin is adorable after all.

325 notes · View notes

liveontelevision · 8 months ago

Note

Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!

I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')

But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol

Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor

What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?

"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.

You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?

Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.

You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.

"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.

You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.

"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.

"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.

"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.

"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..

"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.

"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.

"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.

"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.

"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.

"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.

"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."

While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.

"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking." You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.

"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.

"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."

"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.

"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.

"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?

"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.

"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.

"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.

"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Deal."

You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.

Now that you had to tell him your name.

You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.

You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.

"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.

You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.

"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.

"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.

You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.

Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?

"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.

"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.

"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.

"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.

"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.

"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.

"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.

You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.

A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.

As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.

"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.

After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.

"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.

"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.

There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.

You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.

You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.

You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.

As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.

Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.

You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.

The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?

You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.

"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?

"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.

"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.

"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.

"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.

"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.

"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.

"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.

The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.

"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.

"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.

"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.

This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.

But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.

He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.

"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.

"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.

"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.

"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.

"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.

Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.

"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.

"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.

"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.

"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.

"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.

"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.

"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.

"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.

"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.

Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.

Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.

"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.

You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.

Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.

You may have made a mistake.

"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.

"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.

"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.

"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.

"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.

"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.

"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.

"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.

"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.

"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.

"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.

"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.

"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.

"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.

"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.

You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.

"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.

But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.

You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.

"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.

"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.

"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.

"Kitten-"

"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.

"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.

"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.

“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.

“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.

“But, I-”

“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.

He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.

Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.

As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.

Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.

“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.

Although, it wasn’t perfect today.

You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.

After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.

On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.

Blood.

Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.

Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.

“No.”

You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.

How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.

You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.

Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.

He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.

Run.

You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.

“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.

“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.

“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.

“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”

“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.

“W-Why..?”

“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.

“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.

“Yes.”

“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.

Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.

Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.

“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.

“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.

“You want to stay?” He asks in response.

“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.

“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.

“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.

“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.

The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.

You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?

It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?

Didn't he?

Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.

He's dead.

“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.

You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.

The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.

“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.

“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.

“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.

“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.

It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.

“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.

“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.

“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.

“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.

“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff.

You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.

After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.

You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..

There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.

You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.

"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.

"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.

"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.

"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.

"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.

"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.

"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.

“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.

"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..

“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”

Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.

Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.

But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.

Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.

You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.

But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.

Then why are you so restless?

A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.

“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.

“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.

“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.

Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.

“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.

“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.

“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.

“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.

You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.

“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.

“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.

“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”

"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently.

“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…”

You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.

“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-

“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-”

“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.

“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.

“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder.

“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.

“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.

“W-What are you-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.

“W-Well, I.. it was just-”

“When did you arrive?”

“A few.. decades ago..?”

“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair.

You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.

“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.

His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?

“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.

“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.

“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.

“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”

“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.

“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.

“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.

“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.

“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.

“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.

“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.

“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.

“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.

“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips.

“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.

“About that-”

“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.

“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-

Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.

“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”

“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.”

“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.

“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.

“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.

“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.

“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.

“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.

“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.

“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.

“I missed your smile.” He says softly.

“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.

You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.

“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.

“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.

“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.

“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?

“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.

“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.

You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.

“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.

“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.

“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.

“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.

“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.

“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.

“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He kisses you, again.

“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.

“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.

Stay.. please.”

There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.

You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.

It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.

Okay, a lot.

You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.

You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.

"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.

"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.

Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.

♡♡♡

Another big boy for ya 🫶

Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol

I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬

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