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#he seems like a service top kind of guy
ahmnomreblogs · 7 months
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i think billy would paint his nails and put his hair up and listen to lady gaga… but i hate reading fics where he bottoms 💀 i feel like if homophobia didnt exist hed be very comfortable in his masculinity (riding motorcycles and working out and shit) but also being a lil feminine as a treat. listen he knows his dick is big so he doesnt stress about being a lil feminine 😌 steve can and will tell you
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suosgirl · 3 months
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Helloooo! I was wondering if you are taking requests for Wind Breaker?
If yes, can I ask for a story or headcanons about Suo meeting and getting curious (and eventually falling for) a f.reader who is like a princess for Shishitoren?
In my head it would be funny to see Suo challenging and interacting with Choji and Togame (who are already threatening Suo to stay away from the reader). I mean, he can be kind of mean when he wants, and still wear a smile.😆
Thanks for hearing me out!
And let me say, I realllyyyy love the way you write!🩷
Shishitoren's Princess (& Her Guard Dog) | Hayato Suo x Reader
Word Count: 7471
୨ৎ Read me before interacting!
୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Shishitoren (literally most of them), Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama, Mitsuki Kiryu, Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nire
୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst, harassment, swearing, kissing, miscommunication – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!
୨ৎ Note: oh my goodness – I'm actually so sorry for how this took me (and how long this is ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა). I loved loved loved this idea so much, and thank you for the sweetest words! I really hope this is somewhere in the ballpark of what you were requesting! Thank you again for the amazing idea! I love you!
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You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.
Pretty, perfect, caring adorable you. With a smile that could heal any scratch and a heart that seemed to never run empty. You were the pride and joy of Shishitoren – their mascot in every sense. 
You knew everyone by name. If someone asked, you could name at least 5 things about each person from the top of your head. You could name their allergies, their likes and dislikes, and even their interests – all because you listened to them.
You were attentive and warm – quick to lend an ear if someone was having a bad day or offer advice if they asked.
And it was scary how well you could tell if they were in the dumps – it becomes a running joke that you have some kind of emotional superpower when it comes to them. It takes just one look, one look before you’re bringing them to a secluded corner and asking them if they’ve got something weighing on their minds.
You knew their personalities, knew their stories, knew their hearts. 
The only time anyone avoided you was when they knew they did something wrong – because they knew you’d be pulling them by the ear and scolding them. And, as much as some of them wanted to get mad, they just couldn’t bring themselves to – because having someone care for them so fiercely was a feeling that not many of them had ever experienced, and from the bottom of your heart you truly cared.
After every fight, they knew you’d be the one to patch them up. Bofurin had the townspeople, sure, but Shishitoren had you. You, who would set up tables in the Ori with every inch of space taken up by ointments, antiseptic spray, gauze – the works. Whatever injury they had, as long as not severe, was taken care of by you. 
If it was serious and required hospital attention, you were the one bringing them there – eyes sharp and tongue at the ready to yell at anyone who dared to treat them differently or deny services.
And these boys … they had the utmost respect for you. You, who had nothing but love to give, never expected a single thing back. You cared for them, genuinely, and saw them as your own brothers to fuss over and worry about and love. 
You were family – and honestly, Togame and Tomiyama were just glad to have met you after their fight with Bofurin. 
You’d moved to this side of town just a little after the whole thing, and when you’d gotten lost in the dark alleys with your phone on 1% and tears in your eyes, it was Tomiyama who walked you home. He’d talked your ear off the whole way, of course, but he was surprised at how you were able to keep up with him. You were actively responding to him, asking questions, keeping the conversation going – and Tomiyama liked that. 
And when you’re delivered safely to your front door, you ask if you can exchange contact info. His eyes light up, and he’s quickly saying yes and that he’d love to hang out with you again.
He doesn’t expect you to reach out to him the next day though, asking if you can give him a thank-you present for going out of his way the day before. 
And when you show up to the Ori, with a bag of assorted goodies in your hands, you’re met with more men than you could count, all with eyes staring wide at you.
They expect you to run away, honestly, because they know what they look like. They know that you’re probably a sweet girl, sure, but they were a gang – plain and simple. A gang working on reform, sure, but a gang nonetheless. So, if you were to drop your little goodie bag in fear and run for your life, well, it would probably be the most appropriate response.
Instead, what you do is gasp, point an accusatory finger at Tomiyama, and exclaim, “WHY didn’t you tell me that there would be more people here?”
You quickly hand him the bag, muttering out an “I’ll be back”, and in less than 30 minutes you’ve got your hands full with 5 more bags, packed to the brim with even more snacks.
With Togame, it takes just a little bit longer for him to warm up to you. Not that he doesn’t already like you – it’s just that he’s, well, a bit more reserved and a bit more quiet and observing (a lot more quiet if we’re comparing him to Tomiyama). 
It’s when, during a fleeting conversation, he mentions that he plays Go with the elderly men at the public bath – and he watches you perk up at his words. Immediately, you’re asking if it would be alright to play with him sometime, and while he’s hesitant, he ultimately says yes at the sight of your bright eyes and wide smile.
He admits that he thinks you’re just bluffing, until you actually plan a day to play, and now you’ve got him thinking that maybe you’re good? Maybe, you’re a secret Go prodigy or something? Maybe you’ve got a secret or two up your sleeve and –
He wipes the floor with you. Absolutely demolishes you. But you’re happy about it, laughing at the result, and he’s confused because you didn’t win? Did you … did you know how board games work?
You’re quick to tell him that you enjoyed it because you got to spend time with him, got to know who he is as a person because of how he played. 
You leave him standing on the street, a bottle of Ramune long forgotten in his hand (his prize for winning) and his mouth open in surprise.
And when you notice he’s not next to you anymore, you turn around with a smile on your face as you ask, “Don’t you feel that you know me a little bit better too?”
Yeah, they were glad that you got to see them as they were now, with hopes and dreams and emotions. They don’t dwell on the idea of you meeting them before then – they don’t want to. Because if they thought about it too long, they’d have their answer.
You deserved to be happy and healthy and protected. You, who filled a hole in Shishitoren that they didn’t even know existed. 
And now you were an irreplaceable part of their lives, so precious and so important that they began to understand Bofurin. They had you – someone that they would do anything in their power to protect – to keep safe from harm.
You were Shishitoren’s Princess.
After that, Tomiyama and Togame were stuck to you like glue. Always thinking about you, always concerned, always wondering where you were. 
You’re running late and they haven’t got a text letting them know why? They’re out on the streets, danger flashing in their eyes and prepared for the worst. However, when they see that you’ve been distracted by a stray cat on the road, all they do is let out a laugh and join your side. 
They hear you sniffling and see that your eyes are shining with tears? They’re immediately on you, asking who did this to you, with a promise to make them pay for it tenfold. “You can’t really beat up allergies,” you laugh, before sneezing into a tissue. Immediately, the Shishitoren boys are rounded up, their eyes focused and determined – to get you allergy medicine.
You were everything good in the world, bottled up into someone who could make even the rainiest days seem a bit more brighter and the hardest challenges a bit more bearable – and they didn’t want anyone infringing on their happiness.
So when Hayato Suo, from Bofurin, comes across you one fateful day – they’re absolutely livid. 
You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.
And honestly, you loved them, you did, but the way that they treated you like a delicate little flower sometimes felt a bit too stuffy.
What? Did they think you just patched people up for fun? That you knew how to medically treat someone just short of a nurse because it was your hobby?
You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize where the directions on your phone are taking you until you’ve already passed the train crossing border that connects Bofurin’s and Shishitoren’s territory. You’re spit out onto a street that you’ve never seen before, but you shrug it off.
When you find the corner store, you make quick work of your shopping list, even grabbing some items for yourself, before you’re out the door.
It’s when you’ve barely taken a few steps down the street that you feel it – the staring on the back of your head.
While you were in the store, you’d felt their eyes on you, but you’d ignored it, hoping that it was just a fleeting moment of curiosity. Now, you see that it was the eyes of a predator stalking their prey.
You pause, before quickly taking out your phone and sending a quick text to Togame and Tomiyama – they just need one small clue and they can fill in the rest – so you send your location. 
And when you finally turn to face your stalker, you snap a photo of their face. For insurance, you assure yourself. Just in case. 
He’s taller than you, with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. You feel uneasy at his presence, and you look up and down the street to see that no one’s around.
Damnit damnit damnit. 
“You’re really pretty, totally my type. Could I get your contact information?” he’s asking, but the tone that he’s saying it in doesn’t leave any room for objection.
“No,” you reply, simple and straight to the point. Then, you stay standing there, and you wait. 
“Never turn your back on an enemy.”
Togame had said this briefly, once, while the both of you were watching everyone spar.
When the man takes a step forward, you take one back, maintaining the distance between you and him.
“Oh come on – it’s just your number. Don’t make this such a big deal.”
He’s holding himself back and you can see it. You can see the way his hands are twitching by his sides now and the way his breathing is starting to speed up.
“Always keep an eye on your opponent~! You wouldn’t wanna miss anything!”
Tomiyama’s words run through your mind next, and you will yourself to maintain your facade.
You’re starting to get just the slightest bit worried now, though. It really shouldn’t be too much longer, you think. Any minute now. 
But a minute passes by, Togame and Choji aren’t here, and the guy’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that it’s starting to throb.
“Please – leave me alone!” you yell out, but it’s going through one ear and out the other. He’s smiling down, dark and sinister, and it’s then that you remember something so crucial that you can’t believe you forgot it.
“Kick them, um, down there. It’ll hurt, a lot. But that’s a last resort type of move, alright princess?”
Those self-defense lessons are paying off, Togame. 
You make a mental note to thank him when he gets here.
You kick the man, hard, and when he releases your arm you step back as fast as you can, but – 
The plastic bag you had once held in your hand, now filled with the sloshing liquid and the broken glass of Togame’s Ramune bottle, causes you to slip.
Your hands shoot out and you close your eyes in anticipation of the fall that never comes because strong, warm arms are holding you up.
You let out a sigh of relief – finally. You’re brought to stand, but before those hands can leave your body, you’re swiftly grabbing them to wrap around your waist and leaning your head on their chest.
“Geez, took you guys long enough –”
The sight of a black jacket cuts you off. Black, with green embroidery.
You quickly push yourself off, eyes wide and cheeks red because you had just initiated a very intimate hug with someone who was a complete stranger.
“I-I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh – I thought you were someone else!” you blurt out, hands covering your mouth – and he looks as caught off guard as you are.
His eye is wide, mouth open just the tiniest bit, and – he’s cute.
“Wow, I don’t get thanked like that too often,” he smiles, and you’re mortified at his playful reaction.
“I –,” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder, quickly cutting you off.
You look up at him, and the smile’s still there, but it’s different now – it’s frightening.
“Would you mind stepping to the side for me? It seems some people just don’t know when to quit.”
You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re quickly brought back to the situation at hand. Nodding, you get out of his way, and it’s as soon as you step past him that you hear a sickening thud and a groan of pain.
When you turn, you’re relieved to see that the man who’d been harassing you is on the ground, and if you were to guess, probably out cold.
“Wow… You made quick work of him,” you don’t try to hide the awe in your voice and Suo finds it both endearing and concerning that you’re praising him.
Concerning mainly because, well, you don’t seem to be the type to leisurely enjoy street fights. 
And now you’re right in front of him, inspecting his face and body to make sure there aren’t any cuts that need to be treated or any injuries that need tending.
It’s second nature at this point — ingrained in your body and soul.
Cute, he thinks, very cute that she thinks he touched me.
“Do you see anything wrong, love?” he jests, enjoying the way you’re so diligently scanning him from head to toe.
“No, I don’t think—”
You are, once again, mortified by his teasing. No one at Shishitoren spoke to you like this, and sure they called you Princess, but to you, it held the same value as sister or friend.
“S-sorry, force of habit… ah, thank you for saving me! I sent my friends a message but —”
You’re cut off by the sounds of two distinct voices yelling "Princess", and Suo’s quick to prepare himself for another fight.
However, when he sees Togame and Tomiyama run around the corner with panic in their eyes and desperation in their voices, he’s just confused.
And when they spot the two of you, with an unconscious body on the ground, it gets even more confusing. Because why are they walking over here and why do they have scowls on their face and —
“Princess, what were you thinking?”
Tomiyama and Togame are all over you, Togame’s hand gently grasping your chin to move your face from side to side, and Tomiyama’s got his hand on your wrist, softly thumbing at the bruised skin.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.”
Suo’s observing all of this, and he’s trying to rack his brain for any information about you. God, he really wished Nirei was here right now.
He’s never heard that name before or seen your face, so this must be a recent development. But with the way they’re fretting over you, you’d think that you’d all been childhood friends or something because the way that they’re worrying over you is definitely not normal.
You try to push their hands away from you, embarrassed that you have an audience, but they don’t let up so all you’re able to do is grumble and huff as they inspect you from head to toe.
“... He hurt you,” Tomiyama whispers, and you grab his wrist before he starts stalking toward the body on the floor.
“It’s okay um – oh, I don’t know your name, but he helped me out! Everything’s fine – really! Please, let’s calm down,” you plead, and all it takes is one look at your anxious face for the both of them to ease up.
Now, Suo really wants to understand.
“Suo … thanks for protecting her. This idiot didn’t tell us she was crossing over into your territory. It’s our fault, sorry,” Togame explains, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other draped over your shoulders.
Suo takes a moment to respond. Who would he be, after all, if not an instigator?
Because — who were you? You – who could turn the Shishitoren leader and his second in command into mere puppies with your sweet voice. You — who had them running like their lives depended on it. 
“Ah, I’d save a sweet girl like her any day,” Suo says, testing the waters, and he gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.
Togame and Tomiyama stiffen up beside you, as you gasp in surprise at his words. 
And suddenly, there’s a shift in the air – and it’s deadly.
You sense it, of course, because who wouldn’t be able to feel the heightened electricity and the low hum of buzzing coming from Togame’s and Tomiyama’s chests?
And you, ever the de-escalating expert, quickly blurt out, “Ah, wait! I need to go back to the store! Give me like 5 minutes!”
Before they can get a “no” out, you’re already out of their grasp and beelining it for the convenience store.
It’s silent for a moment, with just Suo, Tomiyama, and Togame looking at one another.
Finally, Togame breaks the silence.
“Look, Sakura’s a friend –”
“And Ume-chan too!” Tomiyama chimes in.
 “ – and I hope we’re not stepping on your toes here but don’t get any ideas.”
Suo knows he should stop. He should probably apologize, and let them know it’s not what they think. That they’ve got it all wrong. But … he really can’t help it – not with the way that they’re hissing at him like cats. It’s adorable – and you’re adorable.
He was never really good with holding back his tongue, anyway.
“I think she can make her own decisions, don’t you?”
Togame and Tomiyama do not take kindly to his words, and so it begins – a passive-aggressive verbal war.
“Ha, right. It’s been fun, eye-patch-kun, but we really oughta take her back home. You know, so that we can patch her up,” Togame says, and though there's a smile on his face, Suo understands the underlying message behind his words.
She got hurt in your territory, under your patrol.
Suo smiles back at him.
“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t quick enough to save her, but I’m glad I was able to sort this out before things got out of hand,” Suo replies.
All you guys do is blow things up out of proportion – with violence.
“If we’d been here, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”
“Hm. But you probably would’ve gone overboard.”
“Watch it –”
“Ah, sorry!”
It’s when Tomiyama finally opens his mouth that Suo realizes he’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and when they make eye contact, Suo’s smile deepens – because Tomiyama looked like he was ready to maul Suo into pieces, like a true Lion.
“Ume-chan and Furin are our friends,” he says, eyes darkening with every word, “but she’s our family – I think it’s best if you stand down.”
It’s at that moment that you come racing back towards them, your hands full of goodies and a grin on your face as you exclaim, “I got it! I got it!”
You hand Togame his Ramune, Tomiyama his snack, and … you hand Suo bottled tea.
“Sorry, um, I wasn’t too sure what you liked – but this is my favorite drink! Ah, um, if you don’t like it … Suo … I won’t be hurt. But you strike me as a tea lover so –”
You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands wringing behind your back as you ramble and Suo can’t help the sweet smile and the small laugh that escapes his lips before thanking you.
And as soon as he’s done, you’re being whisked away back to your territory – back to your home.
As you walk through the passing, with Tomiyama’s arm intertwined with yours and Togame’s arm draped over your shoulders, you briefly turn around, just to catch one more glance of Suo.
He’s standing there, smiling as he raises his hand to wave at you. You smile back at him with a glossy look in your eyes before Togame softly flicks your forehead.
Your attention is on Togame now, pouty and dejected, before turning your head indignantly as you begin to lecture him about how you’re supposed to thank someone when they help you, and that it’s the nice thing to do.
In the heat of your lecture, you miss the way that Tomiyama and Togame also turn back to look at Suo.
In the darkness of the tunnel, Suo swears he can see their eyes glinting, and his smile only deepens. 
Their eyes, daring and territorial, only say one thing.
Ours. Ours. Ours. 
He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting this turn of events but he was intrigued now. 
And, it’s only after the three of you disappear that he realizes he never learned your name – your real name.
So, when he volunteers to take over the patrol where the Furin territory ends and the Shishitoren territory starts, who can blame him?
What Suo doesn’t know, though, is that after this little incident, you’re permanently banned from walking alone ever again.
(Of course, you’re not actually banned. But, you are given a scolding afterward – which, in your eyes, is rich coming from Togame and Tomiyama, but sure, whatever.)
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
The next time Suo sees you, it’s when he least expects it. 
You’re in Bofurin territory, with a small first-aid kit on your lap as you tend to the child in front of you. You’re smiling at the sniffling little boy as you wrap some gauze around his ankle, your fingers adept and swift, as if you’d done this countless times before.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re so strong!”
You ask him how it feels, and the little boy beams up at you, the tears in his eyes long gone and instead replaced with immense gratitude.
You smile down at him, playfully scolding him to be more careful as you pat his head softly.
And then Suo sees you hand him a lollipop — a lollipop — and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
So, really, can you blame him for sneaking up behind you and whispering into your ear?
“What brings you to Bofurin territory, princess?”
You yelp in surprise, before turning around so fast that Suo worries if you gave yourself whiplash.
Once your blush has gone down and the surprise of seeing him wears off, you explain that you’re here to get some bread for Tomiyama from the Cactus bakery.
He’d been saying that he wanted fresh bread, but there weren’t any in Shishitoren that you knew of. And as soon as he mentioned the Cactus’s Anpan over on Bofurin's side of the tunnel, well, who could blame you for taking that opportunity to not only do something for him but also for yourself?
Which, of course, was to hopefully run into Suo.
“He sent you all the way over here to pick up bread for him?”
“Hm? No, of course not. This is a surprise for him!”
“I see – I was wondering why you didn’t have your guard dogs around…”
“My guard dogs?”
“Oh!” you laugh and Suo thinks it’s the most pleasant sound he’s heard in his life.
“You mean Tomiyama and Togame? No, they don’t know I’m here. It wouldn’t really be a surprise if they knew, right?”
Suo’s starting to see it now – why they care for you so much. But he wants to know more, so he asks about the kid you were tending to.
“Ah — I saw him playing with some kids and he took a nasty fall. I didn’t think it was right to let him go home without care, so I patched him up. I hope that’s okay?”
Suo finds that he really likes talking to you. He likes how expressive you are, how kind you are, and how thoughtful you are. And he finally learns your name. He likes that about you too – it’s cute.
So, naturally, he offers to escort you to Cactus – purely just to keep an eye on you, he convinces himself.
And when he escorts you back to the border, all your goodies in one hand and his arm in the other, well – 
He doesn’t care enough to find justification for his actions. He just really liked you – plain and simple.
When you let go of his arm, he’s already grieving the feeling of your body pressed to his side. 
You were warm, soft, and he’s sure that if he ever got the chance to taste your lips, sweet.
“Let’s exchange contact information! That way, you can be my guard dog when I’m here,” you say as you pull out your phone, and Suo’s so so glad that he ran into you today.
When he adds your contact to his phone, he puts you down as Princess.
When you add his contact to yours, you put him down as Guard Dog. 
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
After that, you and Suo try to meet up. But… well…
You don’t see the point in trying to hide it. You were, after all, your own person. You could think for yourself, make decisions for yourself, and speak up for yourself. You were so open to loving and the Shishitoren boys knew this – so why should you hide it?
And when you had something on your mind, you were determined to make it happen. So, you don’t see why it would be any different with Suo. You had met him twice now, and you wanted to keep seeing him. To keep talking to him. To maybe even date him.
But to Shishitoren, this was equivalent to losing you – and they could never let that happen.
So Shishitoren never lets you see him – and it’s not like they’re barricading you inside the Ori or blocking the entrance to the border (though, they’ll admit that the thoughts crossed their mind in one way or the other).
No. They do it in a way that they know will make you stay with them – by acting like big babies.
The first to fall was Arima – 
You’re about to leave to meet up with Suo when Arima runs into the Ori, cries of pain leaving his lips as he whines at how much it hurts. You drop your bag immediately, texting Suo a panicked text about how something came up and that you’re sorry but you’ve gotta cancel today. 
You have Arima sit down, all your supplies laid out next to you as you ask him what happened and – 
It’s a paper cut.
But he’s babbling about how deep it is and how much it stings and it takes forever to just disinfect it and wrap a bandage around it before you realize that half the day’s just flew by for a minor injury.
Second was Kanuma – when he got a bad haircut.
Third was Sako – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, began asking you for advice about how you would approach someone who you used to look up to but lost respect for, who you vowed to fight and win against, only to lose against them and have them apologize to you (you, obviously, struggled with what advice you could even give him).
Fourth was Tomiyama – when he lost his favorite pair of sneakers.
Fifth was Togame – when he lost an eating challenge for the first time.
“It’s for the good of Shishitoren,” they say as they prepare the next victim.
Eventually, you find yourself tending to almost all of Shishitoren’s wounds, whether physical or emotional, and you just can’t believe that they’re fighting against you and Suo so hard.
But, in between all of that, you and Suo still manage to sneak in hushed phone calls and sweet texts.
Always asking about how the other’s doing, always talking about how your day went. He looks forward to it, he realizes, laying in bed as he hears you start to slur the ends of your words, drifting off into sleep.
And you send him photos all the time – it could be of a cat you came across while on the way to the Ori, or a drink that you tried that you liked – and with each text, with each phone call, Suo finds himself becoming smitten with you. 
You, who would remind him to drink water and to at least eat something small to get through the day. You, who had perfect memory and would follow up with the things that he’d talked about days ago, just because you were interested and curious (he’d mentioned that there was a tea spot that he frequented in Makochi, and it only took a day or two later for you to bring it up again, this time with all sorts of questions and comments like “I looked at what they serve! Which one’s your favorite?” and “I’d love to go there with you sometime, Suo – if I ever get the chance”. He’d only said the name of this tea shop once, but you remembered). 
And sweet, kind, loving you – who seemed to know whenever he had a particularly tough day. You were so attentive to him, which was surprising because all your interactions were never in person, but it seemed that you could understand his mood just based on the extra second it took for him to answer the phone or the way he responded to your text. And the thing was that Suo was great at masking his emotions – an expert, even. But you, who could just sense these things about other people, were giving him the chance to open up if he so chose to. You never pressed, never battered him for an answer. Just a simple – “I feel like there’s something on your mind, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay! Just know that if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be there for you Suo.”
And, above all, you never stop trying. You never stop trying to escape the clutches of Shishitoren to see him – though you apologize every time your plans get thwarted as if you both weren’t expecting the same outcome.
But Suo doesn’t see you again, for months – not until a huge fight breaks out, and you’re honestly the last one he expects to see rushing onto the aftermath of the battlefield with a backpack filled to the brim with medical supplies and a determined look on your face.
They didn’t know Shishitoren was going to get involved and fight alongside them, didn’t know that the aftermath was going to be this bad. But if Suo had known that you’d be running to meet everyone afterwards, well – 
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
He sees you a mile away, and he’s so relieved that you’re not hurt. That you’re up and moving. That you’re here. But he’s also surprised and caught off guard because – why were you here?
It’s then that he sees your bag, sees the way that you’ve got your hair up and out of your face, and the way that you’re scanning everyone up and down so fast that your eyes never stop moving. 
My little nurse, Suo thinks, rushing to the injured like the sweet princess she is.
Little did you know that as he was fighting, there were only 3 things revolving through his mind – Bofurin, Makochi, and you. He fought to protect those 3 things that were so very dear to his heart, and to be greeted with the sight of you after winning? Well, it couldn’t be anything less but a sign of his hard work. A reward, if you will.
He sees you run up to Umemiya, serious and purposeful, as you open your mouth and wait for a response. Umemiya, though very confused, gives you an answer that you seem satisfied with because you nod, then thank him, and now you’re running towards Suo, and you make eye contact, and he can’t wait for you to dote after him and take care of him and – 
You smile at him, scan his body, nod –  and walk right past him. You never stopped for him, actually. You just kept moving. Just kept walking.
And Suo just watches – he watches as you make your way over to where Shishitoren is laid out, watches as they all let out a sigh of relief when they see you safe and unharmed, watches as they start talking animatedly to you as you start setting up for aid.
And you’re standing there with a pained look in your eyes as you nod at their words halfheartedly, more focused on the injuries that they’re sporting on their bodies than the words coming out of their mouths. You’re going from person to person as fast as you can, and although Suo can’t hear you, he can read your lips as you tell every single person – “I’m here now. It’s okay. Thank you for fighting. I’ll take care of you.”
He watches as you get to Tomiyama and Togame, and sees the way your eyes start to water as they pat your head and tell you that they’re fine – even though you have eyes, you can see how hard they’ve fought. Instead, they’re fondly thanking you for coming all this way just to take care of them.
And suddenly, everything got a bit too real for Suo. A bit too scary.
Because he didn’t realize how hard he’d fallen for you, in between those two fateful meetings, the constant late-night phone calls, and the never-ending texts.
It hits Suo like a train. He wanted to be the one that you search for in the crowd. He wanted to be the one that you’re fussing over. He wanted you to patch him up. He wanted you.
He was in love with you.
And he shuts down – completely.
He goes silent, uncharacteristically so, to the point that Sakura and Nirei are starting to get worried.
“What’s wrong, Suo-san?”
“Suo, what’s the matter with you?”
It goes through one ear and out the other – no response, no indication that he’s even present at the moment.
It’s when you’re patching up the last member of Shishitoren that you feel the heat of an eye on you – and your body reacts before your mind can.
Suo’s name is the only thing running through your mind as you finish up as fast as you can – and you’re off.
You’re making your way to where all of Bofurin is sitting, just barely slipping out of the grasps of the Shishitoren boys.
It’s Togame, with his long limbs, who reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder and it’s Tomiyama, with his fast reflexes, who has your hand in his.
“Princess, no–”
“Let me find Suo.”
“But you don’t even –”
“Choji, Jo – let me go.”
They hesitate. You’d never spoken to them like this before. Never used their first names before. Never been so cold before.
But they weren’t fools. Even if you tried to hide it, they’d seen the way you sneaked off to talk to him or the way you thought you were hiding your phone when you were responding to him. Anytime they’d bring something up that had even an inkling to do with Suo, you were excitedly adding in your input – all while stumbling over your words as you tried to be mysterious. 
(They’d done a test, actually. All they did was bring up the word tea and you were fighting for your life as you kept accidentally saying Suo’s name when talking about your friend. 
“Ah, Su– AH, I mean, my friend really likes this type of tea.”
“Oh! That’s S– my friend's favorite place in Makochi!”
They didn’t have the heart to tell you because, well – you really sucked at lying.)
And they realize, with heavy hearts, that you were never theirs to lock up in the Ori. You were so kind, so lovable, so sweet, because that’s just who you are as a person. 
You were protected, sure, and healthy, sure, but you weren’t happy.
You, who were the embodiment of everything that Shishitoren was working to protect, had made a choice and they weren’t respecting it the way that you respected them – and they were being, well, selfish.
And when they finally let you go, you sigh in relief. Making your way over to where Suo’s sitting, you yell out over your shoulder, with so much spite, so much anger, and so much love – 
“You act like I’m never coming back – stop whining like puppies!”
Togame’s and Tomiyama’s eyes widen in shock before they both laugh lightly at your words in disbelief.
You really knew how to scold them.
“... she’s talking about you.”
“... nah, she’s definitely talking about you.”
🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
When you made your way over to Suo, you were met with guarded and curious stares from all of Bofurin. Too focused and too determined, you brush it off. You knew about the fight that they had with Shishitoren, sure, but you thought that they had patched everything up? And Shishitoren had fought with them for this big battle, so why the curiosity?
If only you knew the real reason everyone was staring at you.
Instead, you find yourself running past all of them with Suo’s name falling from your lips, and when you see him, he doesn’t respond.
You pause, dejected, before repeating his name.
No response. 
Now you’re worried – and scared.
You recognize Sakura and Nirei, based on how Suo had described them briefly, and you immediately begin asking them what happened.
“Sakura, Nirei – is Suo okay? Did he get hurt? Does he need first aid?”
You’re met with silence – and shock.
“H-huh? Do we know you?”
“U-umm – sorry, have we met before?”
You pause at their response, looking at them confused.
You blink once, then twice, then three times – before glancing at Suo.
Unresponsive and unperturbed.
You introduce yourself slowly, giving Sakura and Nirei the chance to remember you – because they must’ve heard your name at least once, right?
They hadn’t.
And now you’re standing there with hundreds of eyes on you, as you come to terms with the fact that maybe … maybe you’d been wrong this whole time.
You clear your throat before timidly asking a question that you fear you already know the answer to.
“Did he um… did he not tell you about me? Uh… about us?”
And suddenly – everything goes to shit.
Shishitoren rises up in arms, walking over to where you are because why did you look so confused and why was Suo ignoring their beloved princess – 
All of Bofurin is staring at you with their mouths wide open, processing the words you’ve just said –
Sakura’s spluttering, desperately trying to form words as he continues to just point back and forth from you to Suo with shaky hands – 
Nirei’s got his notebook in his hand, flipping through it like a madman because how could he miss something like this, and had Suo ever talked about you? – 
Suo’s unresponsive, still – 
And then, to top it all off, Kiryu gasps because he’s finally solved it. He’d seen a text on Suo’s phone, so brief and so quick, but he was sure that the person Suo was texting was – 
“Oh! You’re the one he’s been texting! You’re Princess!”
At Kiryu’s words, you snap. 
And no one, not even Togame and Tomiyama, had ever seen you this angry, this upset, this livid.
You weren’t expecting him to go around screaming your name all over Makochi, but what you did expect was at the very least maybe his friends to know. Was that so absurd? You never tried to hide your feelings for Suo from Shishitoren (They tried so hard to stop it) so why wasn’t it reciprocated? Did he not feel the same way? Had you looked too deep into his actions and created a fantasy in your mind? Did you not really know him as well as you thought? 
Or worse – had he been toying with you? 
Oh, you were pissed – and poor Suo didn’t have a clue.
You go to stand in front of him, eerily calm and sickeningly sweet as you call his name one more time.
“Hayato Suo.”
Now that – that brings him back to his senses. You watch him blink in succession as he grounds himself, before his eye darts to you, to Furin, to Shishitoren – and he quickly puts the pieces together before letting out a stiff laugh.
“Ah – I was hoping to introduce you properly to everyon–”
“Am I a joke to you, Hayato?”
Suo freezes at your words. 
How could you, who had unknowingly wormed your way into his heavily guarded heart, be a joke?
But he realizes now – and he feels, for one of the few times in his life, stupid.
Because you love with your heart on your sleeve, and Suo loves with his heart tucked away.
And really, Suo should’ve known, because you’re you — you who gave Shishitoren something to protect and to hold close to their hearts, safe from danger and harm’s way.
You press on, fighting through the anger and the embarrassment and the fear you feel rising inside of you.
“Tell me Hayato, answer me. Was I? Hm? Did you have fun?”
“No, I –”
“Every call, every text – did that mean nothing to you? Was I just being delusional?”
“Wait I –”
You’re so close to him now, softly jabbing your finger into his chest as your words begin to get more and more shaky.
“Do you feel powerful, Hayato? Making a Shishitoren girl fall in love with you–”
You stop yourself, teary-eyed and vulnerable, and you feel so stupid. Because what hurts more than anything is giving someone all your love, all your time, all your energy – all for it to have been for nothing. You thought he felt the same, truly. But now? All you wanted was to walk away from all of this, walk away from Bofurin, and never ever look back.
He grabs your hand, desperately, as your words sink in. He wants to – no, needs to make sure that he’s not just hearing things. That he’s not just imagining it.
“You … love me?”
You pause, taking the chance to actually look at him. You see hope on his face, and you furrow your eyebrows in response.
“... is this another joke? Of course, I love you, you idiot. You would’ve been the first one I ran to but your leader said you guys were all patched up already so I –”
Everyone’s eyes turn to Umemiya, who shrivels under the attention and wordlessly mouths an “I didn’t know!”
But your eyes are only on Suo’s, and Suo’s is only on yours.
And Suo lets you see him, truly see him, for who he is. He doesn’t shy away from your stare, doesn't put on a mask, doesn’t push his feelings into the box that’s been his safe haven for so many years. 
Your eyes flicker with uncertainty and fear, but you convince yourself to try one more time. Just one last time. 
“Hayato Suo, I really do love you,” you whisper, so slowly, so hesitantly, so scared.
Then, with everyone’s eyes on the both of you, Suo slides one hand to the small of your back, and the other to cradle your face.
He wanted to learn how to love with his heart on his sleeve – just like you.
“… again.”
“… I lov—”
His lips cut you off, and honestly, you’re not even mad. Not when he’s pulling you flush to his body, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, and your fingers grasping at the collar of his jacket.
Black, with green embroidery.
“I love you, too – but I’m afraid there’s too many eyes here for me to show you how deeply I feel for you, Princess – I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Dazed, all you can manage is a soft nod and a flutter of your eyelashes before pulling his lips back to yours.
Suo smiles into the kiss. He was right, you were as sweet as he thought you’d be.
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puck-luck · 5 months
Note
forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀
lucky lift | jack hughes
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warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468
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“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”
To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.
You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”
In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 
“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”
“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”
“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 
“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 
“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”
“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.
“I think you–”
“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”
The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”
“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 
“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”
Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 
The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 
“No,” You decide. 
You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 
“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”
“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.
“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 
“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”
You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”
“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”
“Oh,” You breathe out. 
“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”
He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.
He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 
“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”
“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 
Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.
“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 
“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.
Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 
Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.
“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 
“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.
“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”
“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”
Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.
You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.
“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”
“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."
“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”
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note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!
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Text
Reign down on me - Part 8
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Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes
A/N: So this is kind of a Part 1 of a whole chapter because i wanted to give you guys something. So the next chapter will have a bit more going on, hope you enjoy this for now! Excited for any comments or theories you guys have about what's going to happen 💕
-🐺-
The major opened the door slowly and then gently closed it shut behind him, sparing a quick glance at you before he walked over to Price’s desk with only a few long strides. He was a tall man with gleaming shoes and a pristine uniform to match, his red hair combed back neatly on top of his head. You took in everything, your breathing almost slowed to a stop while you waited for the news. Only when he sat down at the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of Price did he speak. 
“Before I start, I want to say that I know you’re a busy man and that your team are integral to many ongoing operations that are running. However,” the major paused, his accent thickly weaving his words. “After the incident outside your hallway with Second Lieutenant Smith, I’m afraid to say that I must ask you to carve out some time for me.”
Price laughed at that. Not a warm chuckle or a dark little rumble, like you were used to hearing over comms or during training. This was one of disbelief, the little glinting breaths coming through like warning shots. 
“I’d hardly call that an incident, Major. A silly boy decided to test my hybrid and got exactly what he deserved. There ain’t much more to it,” Price grunted.
He straightened his back and leaned over his table, appearing every bit as menacing as you imagined he could be. The way his eyes appeared to darken below his tilted heavy brow were enough to send even you gulping - and you were the one he was defending. The Major didn’t seem to react however, he wasn’t cowed by the show, he merely sniffed and set his own arms on the desk. 
“Ordinarily I’d agree with ye, Price, you know I would. That wasn’t just any boy though, his da’s some parliamentary arsehole and he wants atonement.”
That gave Price pause.
You sucked in a breath and dug your fingers into the couch cushions, feeling the fabric strain and almost give way under your claws. The shaking started seconds later. You were going to be punished after all. 
Who would do the whipping, you wondered, I don’t want it to be any of the boys, definitely not Ghost. A small whine escaped your throat at  the thought of that before you could cram it down. Ghost was supposed to be safe. The idea that he’d be the one looming over you and raining down pain on your back left your throat feeling crushingly tight. 
“You’re not laying a finger on my wolf, do you hear me?” Price said, his voice so low he might as well have growled at the Major. 
His. The way he said it was so possessive compared to the way you normally heard that, the way that Ghost usually said it. Ghost’s good Pup. His sweet thing. Price said that you were his with all the ferocity of a wild animal. Like something was threatening to drag you off into the unknown. 
“Look I’m not gonna bullshit you here. I tried insisting on something like committed service hours, guard duty or sniffing - that sort of thing. He wasn’t going for it. The problem isn’t so much with what the hybrid did - it’s your Lieutenant he wants to prove a point to most of all. He wants Ghost to know he can’t get away with insulting his family.” 
“So what? He wants Ghost punished?” Price snorted, tilting his chin up in challenge. “You gonna string him up to the post and all are ya?”
The major sighed deeply and rubbed his brow. 
“No ones getting strung up, don’t jump to conclusions. He said that he wants the hybrid locked down for a week, they’re to be placed with the Smith boy’s squad and kenneled, only to be removed should a mission arise where the hybrid’s presence is essential…now, before you go thinking that you can conjure up some kind of week long escapade, he explicitly stated the sentence is to pause while away and resume on return.”
I’d rather be whipped bloody, you thought. The exact thing you were afraid of was coming to fruition. You were to be stripped of what you’d come to love and return to your old way of life, worse still was the thought that you didn’t even know what the kennels were like in your new base, didn’t know if they could extend your stay which would often happen at Branhaven. There was every chance you could be stuck with that horrible bastard indefinitely. Ghost had made a point of letting you know that he never intended on punishing you like that, that you wouldn’t while away your hours in a dingy cell block, or be made to face a post ever again. 
The memory of him settling his hand on your shoulder and squeezing ever so gently as he explained his approach to discipline was so strong, you almost felt his spirit lingering there beside you. He’d said he wouldn’t ever put you out in the cold or whip you unless his hand was forced, and even then he insisted he’d fight whoever threatened you. 
Would he fight a major? A politician?
“This is bullshit,” Price scoffed, smacking his hand off his desk and making you jump. “Hobbling my team because his little brat got slapped around is pathetic! What next? Would he like to bend Ghost over while he’s at it? Really, Major, this is a farce.”
“It is, aye. Exactly what happens when you tangle with those sorts, you know that as well as anyone though.”
Price’s face was the dictionary definition of scorn. You shrank back into the sofa, subconsciously trying to become a part of it and escape from all the tension. The major didn’t even wince through it. He faced Price with all the stoicism of a tree on a calm day, but Price continued to rant and plead your case until you thought his red face might start to turn purple. All the while you listened with quick little bursts of scared breath. 
The conversation didn’t go anywhere except against a dead end, ramming over and over into the same conclusion. The major grew tired of Price’s fit and walked out, saying that he’d expect you checked into the kennel’s by the end of the night. He let the threat of what would happen, should he fail to comply, linger somewhere above you - like an anvil - in the air. 
Price growled out a profanity as the door slammed closed. Only when the air had settled and the Major’s presence fully left did he turn to you and soften. His eyes, that had held so much venom, melted from slits and into doleful pools, his taught mouth slackened.
“Pup…” He sighed, looking you over.
He didn’t finish the sentiment. There was a wordless understanding between you both that he didn’t have the vocabulary for the sympathies he wanted to convey. With that quiet look of apology given he sighed out and pressed his head into his palms. 
“Fuckin’ shower of cunts the lot of em.”
Price hadn’t immediately given up of course. He picked up his phone and got to talking to numerous sources, but apparently none of them were of any use. You flinched back from where you were perched every time he hung up his phone with a bang. It almost made you feel sorry for the thing. No matter what arguments were made, no one was willing to hear Price out. That much was clear after he’d clattered down into his old chair like a shot bird. 
You had expected as much.
In the end it was you that convinced Price just to take you to the kennels. Making a point of stressing that it would be far better to go before Ghost could come back. Something within you shook at the idea of being put back into the same horrible place by the same man that had rescued you from there to begin with. At having Ghost have to take the responsibility on his shoulders, once more letting down a hybrid in his care. 
After being checked in and issued a bedroll, it was time to say your good nights. You stared at Price through the doorway of the kennel, biting your frayed lip. No matter what he said, you knew well enough that it was your own stupid stubborn fault that you were back there again - for not just acquiescing to the brat’s commands in the first place. Stunts like that were the exact reason that you had the disciplinary record that you did. Always going against anyone that wanted to shove you down, all in the name of some kind of renegade fantasy that you had any control over your life. Fiercely defending the shreds of your honour as if you hadn’t spent most of your life as a beaten dog. 
Stupid. 
At the very least though, conditions were far better than your old haunt at Branhaven. That was something, you tried to tell yourself. The shiny black sleeping bag they’d given you was plenty thick and there was a groaning old heater that rattled overhead, so that the nipping cold temperatures felt more like being left in a draughty room. Even the construction wasn’t as bad as the other ones, rubber crumb flooring like that of a playground, meant that you wouldn’t get as stiff and a hard fibreglass front over the concrete walls meant that you wouldn’t be exposed to the elements. It was almost possible to think of it like a stay at the worlds worst hotel, rather than a mandated stay in the kennels. 
It wasn’t home, but at least you knew that you’d get to return there as long as you listened and kept your stupid trap shut for once. Home with Ghost. Now that you’d calmed down after the initial shock of being issued the punishment, an internal clock had materialised in your head. The countdown to when you could go home. All you had to do was take your medicine and you could be with Ghost again, everything could go back to how it was. That thought alone was enough to keep the needling panic at the back of your mind firmly restrained there. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Price said, his voice stony and rough. “I don’t wanna leave you here, Pup…I really don’t.”
“Don’t wanna leave me, or don’t wanna have to face Ghost and tell him I’m here?” You said, making an attempt to lift his heavy expression. 
He grunted something that could be interpreted as a bitter chuckle. 
“Neither.”
You smiled a little, but didn’t have it in you to laugh. At seeing your expression, he crossed the threshold between you both and closed his palm over your head. His roughened fingers skimmed over your ears and softly rubbed some of the worry out from deep within your tissue. A proper moment of reprieve settled over your body, loosening tight muscles, before you were forced to part again by the approaching footsteps of the guard.
“Sorry, Sir. I have to lock all the kennels up for the night for lights out,” he explained sheepishly, eyes not fully able to reach Price’s gaze.
Price nodded at him and went to comply, though only after giving you one last ruffle over the ears. He stepped back after and allowed the fibre glass door to snick to a close. Your heart thumped extra loudly while it shut. Price gave you one last mournful look and then told you to get some rest, assuring you that he’d be watching over you even from afar. 
“Good night, Price,” you whispered back, watching his retreating back with sorrow filled eyes.
The guard grunted and double checked the door, ensuring it was locked and rattling the mechanism a few times before he was satisfied. The soft click of metal on metal forced your ears to twitch upward into alert. 
“Get into your bedroll. Light’s out,” the guard said, his voice hardened now that your Captain was gone. “If you cause trouble or give me any crap you’ll be removed for discipline and then returned here. Do you understand?”
“Understood, Sir,” you nodded, unfurling the sleeping bag with a shiver.
The guard allowed you to sort your bedding and once inside the puffy roll of fabric he flicked the light switch and left you bathed in the darkness. He continued down the line from there, the only evidence of his presence, the fading lights down the line and the clicking of switches and doors. 
You whined softly while rubbing your face against the cold fabric below, blanching at the cold rubber flooring. Your heart lurched at the thought of your bed back home. The thought of your cushy blue pillows, Simon’s soft fur, the dialogue unread from the ‘Super-Wolf’ graphic novels by your bed, the smell of rotisserie chicken that was supposed to linger in the air, no where to be found in that sterile place. This was all wrong.
No matter what position you got in, no matter how hard you tried to shut your mind off and return to old coping mechanisms, the idea that you could be safely in your bed weighed on your chest like an elephant. Before you were used to being shoved into a kennel and forgotten about, but now you knew that there was a better life. A life that had been ripped from you.
You wanted to scream, wanted to claw your way out of the sleeping bag and slam yourself against the clear glass like a mad person, wanted to raise hell until you were returned to your rightful place. Though you never followed through. You had to be good now. It was the only thing that would get you home. 
Instead, you let your head loll to the back wall, facing the speckled brick and let loose the tears that you hadn’t wanted Price to have to witness again. Couldn’t have him thinking that you were completely pathetic afterall. The hot paths they left burned against your cold cheeks, though they still couldn’t compete with the heat that filled your aching chest. 
I’ll be with them again. Ghost won’t let me go. 
-🐺-
“Mum…I had a nightmare. The monsters want to take me away.”
Your little tail was pinned fast under your legs, your ears folded so close to your head you could feel the fibres of your hair even through your fur. Blinking back the tears from your eyes, you swallowed and looked up at her imploringly, hoping for a big cuddle just like the ones you’d seen her give to your older sister.
If she knew the meaning in your look, she didn’t show it. She groaned and got up from the couch, mumbling something under her breath before grabbing your wrist and shepherding you back to bed. The long dark corridors of your house seemed all the more haunting at night, the sounds of all the appliances ringing through the walls like wails. You shivered all the way back to your tiny room. Your mum’s iron grip may as well have been a shackle tugging you to prison. 
“Right, get back to sleep. You won’t have another nightmare after you’ve just had one.”
She turned the light on while you sorted yourself, impatiently hovering by the switch until you were lying back in bed and clinging the stuffed dog that your sister hadn’t wanted - had so graciously thrown at you one day - to your chest. His name was faint to you now, a shadow in your anxiety addled mind, what did you call him again? 
“Sleep tight,” she sighed, turning the light out and spiriting out the door. 
You blinked out through the darkness and sighed, curling into a little ball and trying your best to retreat from the leering shadows in the corner of the room. In that darkness your mind created faces, grinning horrible faces that wanted to gobble you up and turn you into mince. Just like the monsters from that horrible movie your dad had watched the night before, completely unaware that you had been hiding under the dining table, trying to avoid your mothers wrath for the milk that you’d spilled before bed.
“Monsters can’t get you here, sweetie,” you whispered to yourself, remembering the calming words you’d overheard in your sister’s room a few nights prior. “Nothing will get you when you’re safely tucked up…snug as a bug in a rug. You have your teddy to protect you, he’ll watch over you all night! Then in the morning everything will be fine again and the sun will be shining.”
The words didn’t seem to hold the same weight when you said them to yourself. They just rang hollow in the static. Perhaps they didn’t work the same since you were different, a half-breed ‘thing’ that no one asked for. Were you worth protecting? Would the sun shine for you in the morning?
-🐺-
“Hey, Pup. Oi. It’s ok, you’re alright. Easy…Easy”
You gulped in a hungry breath of air and opened your eyes, chest absolutely heaving as you fought off the last of the evil spirits that cackled and snapped at your extremities. In all your confusion between sleeping and waking, you couldn’t be sure if the arms that were wrapped around you were real, and if they were, you couldn’t be sure that they were friendly. 
When you whipped round and saw Gaz staring down at you with wide concerned eyes, you still questioned to yourself if you were in another layer of a dream. This couldn’t be right, you thought drowsily. 
“Gaz?” you mumbled, tilting your head when he smiled at you. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you from the bogeyman apparently,” he smirked, ruffling your ears until you swatted his hands away. “That looked like a fuckin’ mental dream, mate.”
“No, Really - what are you doing here?”
You looked around, noting the wide open kennel door and the hazy blue sky beyond, a soft gradient of navy and electric blue sheeted over the fences and trees beyond. It couldn’t be any later than three, maybe four at a stretch. Your sleeping bag was tangled round your ankles and the heater had turned off, but other than that nothing had changed in the kennel. 
All was quiet on base, no cars whizzed by, barely any noise sounded through the crisp morning air. Sleep soon scratched at your eyes, forcing you to rub them and then embarrassingly let loose a high pitched whining yawn that had your face heating like a furnace in embarrassment.
“Aw, you are just a cute Pup, aren’t you?”
“Gaz!” you growled, trying to fix him with a stare serious enough that he would answer. 
It was no use though. He wasn’t Soap, so a little mean look did nothing to wipe the stupid smile of his smug face. Though he did relent when you growled, and when he noticed your darting looks round the opened gate, probably seeing that you were searching for the guard. At that point you’d suspected Gaz had to have stuffed him in a locker or something. 
“Relax, you can stop clutching your pearls. Price has a mission for us.”
“What?” you frowned, thoroughly doubtful, “Really? Right after I got kenneled, huh?”
“Genuinely,” He snorted, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe him at first either, but he wasn’t in the mood to piss about and explain himself. Cap said to come get you and load up ASAP, he’ll explain when we’re in the air.”
“We’re flying out?”
“Uh huh. Sooner the better too, can’t believe they made you spend a night in this place. What a fuckin’ joke.”
“Doesn’t feel like a joke to my back,” you ground out, wincing mid stretch when you felt a bone crack and heard the resulting sound. 
“Jesus. You keep making noises like that and they might retire you,” Gaz snorted.
“Ha ha,” you said dryly.
He gave you room to move away from him, allowing you to stand up before looking you over. It was almost comical seeing the way he searched you for any signs of harm, his calculating eyes narrowed as if he were looking for weapons. He paused a moment, only unfreezing when you raised your brows at him and quirked your lips. 
“You solid?” he asked.
“I think so. You?”
“It’s three in the morning and I’m freezing my arse out here instead of being passed out in bed - course I’m not,” he smirked.
You rolled your eyes and bumped into his side, happily strolling out of the kennel and out into freedom. One night down you, you thought, only six more to go until I get to go back to my bed. At the very least you were happy you wouldn’t have to go to that prick, Smith’s, unit for the day. More than having to be separated from Ghost, you feared what he would do to you while in his care. You strongly suspected he’d have more than a slap lined up for you at that point. 
Gaz lead you to the changing rooms before taking you to the chinook, handing you your gear and waiting on the squeaky wooden benches outside the shower block while you got ready. Then after taking the world’s quickest and coldest shower, trying miserably not to get your hair or fur wet, you stepped out to greet him with gritted teeth and soggy ears. If one thing was abundantly clear then, it was the fact that Ghost had utterly spoiled you. There was no way you could face a cold shower again without thinking about the bathroom at his.
“When I get to go back to Ghost I’m gonna live in that shower,” you huffed, teeth chattering while wrapping yourself up in the big cosy fleece that Ghost had given you a few days before. “I’m gonna stay in there until I turn into a prune and then I’ll make sure that Ghost cans me and traps all the warm condensation in.”
Gaz laughed while watching you lace `up your boots last. Your fingers were shaking still from the bone chilling cold that had seeped through your entire body. It was a wonder that you thankfully managed to finish changing without any help. As much as you had considered pathetically asking him to tie them for you, you werent sure if you could go on soldiering knowing that Gaz had to help you like you were some kind of baby. 
“Pup in a can sounds like a pretty good product. New kind of IED discovered, we can just start lobbing you at the enemy instead of wasting grenades.”
“Lobbing me?” You said in faux shock, flattening your drippy ears. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”
“What? It’s a pretty solid strategy, would work wonders if we were facing an army of Mactavishes.”
“Gaz!” You squawked, flinging your dirty shirt at him. “Mean!”
He batted it away easily and laughed with you. 
“Oh c’mon. Soap would laugh if he was here.”
“Pfft, Soap here? coming to the kennels? Fat chance.”
“Aw, I’m sure he’d do it for you. His little furball,” Gaz teased, ruffling your ears. “Our fuzzy wuzzy puppy.”
You huffed and shooed his hands away, growling when he went to mess with you again. Gaz didn’t flinch at that, but he did roll his eyes and move back to lean against the wall. He was graciously allowing you to put away the rest of your gear in peace so that you could move out. He grew quiet while you shoved your things into the soft green rucksack, and just as you’d clicked the clasp on your bag closed, he regarded you with a more considering look. 
“What?”
“What?” Gaz returned, folding his arms. 
You frowned. 
“You’re looking at me funny.”
“Maybe it’s cause you’re funny,” he shrugged. 
“Shame that you’re not,” you replied dryly. 
“Well shit. Mess with the wolf and you get the fangs, huh?”
“You know it, Garrick.”
-🐺-
The chinook was more comfortable than the kennel. That you figured out after your belly was filled with a fat bacon roll and you had Gaz’s shoulder to lean on. Your eyelids dripped like syrup, lashes fluttering as you listened to Price drone on about the mission over the shaky comms. 
“Pup, are you listening? Knew I shouldn’t have bloody given you breakfast first,” Price admonished. 
You slowly blinked back at him.
“I am,” you huffed out, straightening your back against the chair. “We got evidence of WMD’s in Lata, so we’re gonna go there and secure em with a team from Los Vaqueros forces.”
“Top marks,” Gaz chuckled, ruffling your ears. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“These ears ain’t for nothin’,” you said with a sly grin. 
“Those ears better stay alert,” Price grumbled. “I need you alive and well so Ghost doesn’t disembowel me on return.”
Your ears perked up at that, your body quickly straightening up all the way. In all your tiredness and confusion at being taken away, you’d hardly thought about how Ghost would’ve felt about you being seperated from him for the first time. 
“You spoke to him last night then?”
“Tried to,” Price snorted. “After I told him where you were he just about bowled me over trying to get to you. Managed to convince him to let you be, but he was a pain in my arse all night. He wants to speak to you later, so if you would please be careful today me and my neck would thank you.”
“Is he coming here?” You asked hopefully, tail raising in your excitement.
“Probably not. If all goes well we should be outta here in a few days to a week. He said to call once we finish up tonight though.”
Oh. As much as you tried to stop yourself from visibly deflating, there was little you could do to prevent yourself falling back against the chair with a huff. It had already been to long without him and it had only been a day. The thought of the growing distance only gnawed at you as you thought about it more. 
“Relax, Pup. You’ll be back home to Ghost before you know it,” Price hummed. “Just gotta get through this in one piece first.”
“Yeah…but that’ll only be after I finish up my time at the kennels,” you grumbled, fully sagging into Gaz in defeat. 
“We’ll see.”
You tilted your head at the Captain wondering what the hell he meant by that, and even though he saw your curious look he didn’t answer it. All he did was wink. Even when you begged him to elaborate he shook his head and tilted down his boonie hat, making it perfectly clear that the time for talking was done.
“You could use more sleep yourself,” Gaz said afterward, watching you in your confusion. “Don’t worry too much about the future right now, you barely got any sleep last night by the sounds of that dream you were having, so you’re not gonna be able to think straight. Rest your head on me and I’ll try and keep the nightmares at bay, ok? Gotta wake up fresh for the mission.”
You pursed your lips, heart beating like a frail bird in your chest. So many questions danced around you, but every thought was dimmed by the tiring heaviness that had refused to shake itself from your body from the moment you’d woken up.
Gaz was right, you did need more sleep. And curling up on him sounded like a dream. However when you looked up into his soft hazel eyes, a sudden wave of heat pulsed through you and gave you pause. He practically glowed in the emerging morning light. 
“You sure you want me cuddling up to you?” you asked, laughing breathily to cover up your nervousness.
“Only as long as you don’t tell Ghost,” he winked. “Wouldn’t want him to get jealous.”
You shoved him playfully at that, but soon settled down once Price barked out for you both to be quiet. Bodies going ridgid before slackening into each other. Your head drooped gently down onto Gaz’s shoulder and he let his cheek rest on top of your head. The warm rays of the morning blanketed you both in its gentle hold and in minutes you were sinking into a now peaceful sleep.
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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)
I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️
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Ghost x FVirgin!Reader Word count: 2,9 k Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down. 
A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet. This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.  I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me. I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.  Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘
Simon Riley was a one of a kind man. 
He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him. 
Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.
Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.
And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.
Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him. 
After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.
A bedrock. 
With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.
After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.
In real life, things were not that breezy.
Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two? 
What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth? 
It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.
He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.
Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.
And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was. 
He felt safe.
In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects. 
Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?
You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth? 
Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone. 
Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm. 
Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.
Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside. 
.  .  .
Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.
The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.
"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy. 
You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck. 
"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.
"Don't be. This has been fun." 
He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest. 
"But it's about time I torture you, right?"
Oh God…
Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.
He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.
He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant. 
His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.
The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.
"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.
"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.
"You afraid…?" 
"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.
"Mm. That makes two of us." 
He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient. 
Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy. 
He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.
"Alright… Come here."
He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide. 
The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding. 
You feel both lost and found with him. In him.
He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.
Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.
"Simon…?"
"Mm-hm?" 
He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.
"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.
Great… 
Here comes the awkward.
He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.
"Is that so?"
His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.
"Yes…?" 
A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch. 
"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.
He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower. 
He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.
"Sweetheart."
His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…
"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.
"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.
"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."
You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.
He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.
"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.
I want you.
You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.
"You want it?"
"Yes."
That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.
“You want it with me?”
“Yes.”
"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.
"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.
"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."
Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear. 
His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.
"Oh–" 
He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.
"You like that?"
"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.
"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."
You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.
"Simon?"
"Speak your mind, love."
"Are you disappointed…?"
He stops again, a breath away from you. 
"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"
He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.
"Love, I'm honored."
You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.
"Silly little thing…" 
It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.
You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.
"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."
The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…
"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"
The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside. 
Oh God oh God–
You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.
"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"
You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen. 
"Yes."
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bunnyreaper · 1 year
Text
task force 141 boys, au where they all work as masseurs and you're their client.
(18+/nsfw, f!reader) 
simon is known for his sheer strength when it comes to massages. he has a lot of clients who are stressed-to-death business types because any knot, he can work it out, and he does it without saying a word. he's preferred by clients who don't want to make small talk during their treatment. 
his hands are massive, and seriously, any aches quiver in his presence because they know they're going to be gone soon under his firm touch. 
when you come to the appointment, it's a change of pace from his usual clientele. you ask questions and seem just a touch nervous, explaining that your usual masseuse was out on maternity leave and your boss had recommended simon. he made it his mission to make you comfortable, and from that first appointment with you, he's finds he doesn't mind conversation so much as long as it's yours.
at the end of the first session, you mention your preference for late night appointments, and while he wouldn't usually change his schedule, he does for you. he accommodates you because he kind of hates the idea of you with another masseur--he gets the sense you wouldn't be comfortable with some of his coworkers. 
he'll never ever make a move or do anything suggestive. he stiffens and hesitates when he gets too close to anywhere he shouldn't, and makes sure to always remain super professional (he's definitely overcompensating.) 
one session, you're turning over to your front when the towel slips and he sees the slightest glimpse of your breasts--but what strikes him is the way you apologise to him.
the both of you are so flustered, you don't even notice you've left your phone behind until you get out to your car. when you rush back in to grab it, you forget to even knock and walk in on simon with his dick in his hands. 
and god, even the way he works himself is hypnotic, and you can't help but want to lend a hand as you take ahold of his slick cock.
john attracts clients with his warm demeanor, and his occasional bit of sage life advice on top. a lot of his clients tend to be guys like him, so he's surprised when you end up at one of his appointments. 
he's instantly smitten, and finds that he pays extra attention to your body. not just how it looks, but the way you react to his touch. unlike any masseur you've had before, he doesn't need to ask about the pressure and you don't need to correct him, because he just knows. it's instinct, the right pressure, the right moves, the right scents and everything. you start to think john is criminally undervaluing his services, as you come out from every session feeling a million times better. you used to only go once a month or once a fortnight, but it's almost as if you're addicted to his touch. he refuses tips, so you start baking for him and batting your pretty eyelashes at him to get him to take the treats.
one session you have the achiest thighs ever, and you groan to him about how much you just need some relief. price laughs, and gets to work on oiling up the back of your thighs. he's so in tune with you, he notices the way you squirm under his touch as his fingers climb higher, notices the way your breathing escalates, and well, it's impossible to ignore when you straight up moan for him.
you're horrified but his soothing voice is there, reassuring you that it's normal and natural and nothing to worry about. you swear when you turn over he's smirking. at the end of the appointment, he offers you his card, looking you dead in the eye as he tells you he makes house calls too. 
and of course his intimate massages, just for you, are mind blowing. he takes his time even more than usual, working the tension out of your hands, your arms and your shoulders before moving to your breasts and down your stomach. then he works up from your feet, over your calves and thighs just as he did before. he has you entirely slicked and oily as he massages your clit so fucking carefully and slowly.
johnny's specialism is sports massage and works with a lot of young guys and gals, but he offers other types too. he comes highly recommend for someone looking for functional tips alongside their massage. he's chatty as all hell and likes to make small talk during sessions if the client is up for it. super welcoming and friendly, and everyone loves the accent. 
you find you love talking to johnny, because it just comes so easily. you're sure he does this with everyone but he's always asking questions, getting to know you. it's almost like you become friends, as he says you're his favourite regular. johnny jokes one time that he'd be heartbroken if you ever saw someone else, but you could never. now there's no one you'd trust for massages other than him. 
when you need physio, it's him you go to as well, even if he chuckles a little when you explain you injured yourself drunk, dancing on a table. 
it's a physio session where it all changes, you've been doing mobile stretches under johnny's direction, but he feels you need a little bit of extra stretching. 
you lay down on the mat as johnny scoots closer and takes ahold of your ankle. he rests his foot on his shoulder as he starts to push, and you're looking up at him with so much trust in your eyes. he keeps pushing you, and you give less and less resistance, until suddenly he's pressed against you--his hardness is pressed against you.
his eyes go wide as he moves away, and he's stuttering out apologies in an instant, worried about how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, assuring you that it's never happened before (he doesn't have a big fat crush on just any of his clients.)
it's then you climb atop of him, running your hands over his shoulders as you tell him just how flattered you are. johnny's got you bent over before you can say another word, stretching you out in another way.
kyle is a real hit with older women, they love their young boy toy masseur with the bright, gorgeous smile and bulging arms. a lot of them go to the same country club, and they all talk about gaz in this one circle of older ladies. his diary is always booked full, but he'd managed to squeeze you in late one night during the week, and you were so thankful.
he's surprised when you come through the doors, similar in age and not at all like his usual clients, especially the more outrageous or entitled ones. 
his voice is so soft and smooth as he talks you through the consultation beforehand, to the point where you already feel soothed and relaxed before he's even put his hands on you. he struggles with his attraction from the first meeting. 
his touch is always on the lighter side, which you find absolutely perfect, and the skin on his hands is so smooth that being rubbed by him is a dream. he likes to use heated oils and aromatherapy too, and sometimes you swear you fall asleep on his table. waking up after one of his massages, to his smiling, cheerful face and kind eyes makes you feel more rejuvenated than anything. 
one time when you're coming in for a session, you arrive earlier than usual and catch the tail end of his previous appointment. its one of his regulars, a particularly high-maintenance and touchy-feely woman, who despite being married is trying to come on kyle hardcore. you had planned on waiting outside respectfully, but marched in once you saw the discomfort on his face. 
in your session, you can tell he's still a little uncomfortable from the session, so you try talking to him throughout to take his mind off of things. 
you probably shouldn't have made a comment, or asked if he gets hit on a lot, but be laughs it off and says it happens a lot. his hand freezes on your calf as he admits he wouldn't mind as long as it were you--and you find yourself climbing off the bed and sinking to your knees to give him some relaxation for once. 
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alastor-simp · 7 months
Text
Bon Appétit! - Alastor x Fem Chef Reader
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❥Summary- You were a very popular chef when you were alive, talented in making any dish in any cuisine. You sadly died from unknown causes and ended up in Hell instead of Heaven. You happen to find the Hazbin Hotel and applied for a job there as a cook. Everyone loved your cooking, including a certain red haired demon.
❥Tags: female reader, fluff, chef reader, friends to potential lovers, alastor is bad with feelings, slight romance, hazbin hotel gang, reader is an amazing cook, alastor is a foodie
❥Notes: I had this story idea brewing in my head for a whole week and I needed to type it out. Hope you guys enjoy it :)
"Hum hum hum hum~♫" Your head was bopping to the catchy jazz radiating from the radio. Your hands were placed against a metal bowl, one holding it and the other mixing it. Your name was Y/N, and you were the chef/cook at the Hazbin Hotel. During the time when you were alive, your dishes were very popular. You weren't extremely well known across the world, but everyone in your town knew about you and craved what you created. Your family owned a small restaurant, that was opened to all the locals. It was a bit difficult in the beginning since you were self taught, but as you got older, your skills improved. Over time, you expanded to other cuisines, ranging from American, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, and European.
How you ended up in Hell was still mind-boggling. You remember closing up the restaurant, and heading back to your apartment, only to see a large bright light and then pure darkness. You woke up after that in a very strange area, the sky was a pure blood red and the people around you seemed almost fictional. A large sign that said "Welcome to Hell" was a clear enough answer to where you were. Well there was no way for you to go back to the living world, so you had to just deal with it. Finding a job wasn't very easy especially since many of the places you saw, had very grotesque dishes, and you weren't skill with cooking eyeballs and beating hearts. You stopped at a wall covered with different flyers, some for killing services and job offers. The one that caught your eye was the very colorful one, decorated with stickers and glitter. "Hazbin Hotel huh?" That seemed like a good place to start, especially since hotels had guests and needed someone to provide meals. Smiling, you grabbed the flyer and began making your way to your destination.
Having arrived at the hotel, you were greeted by the owner, "Charlie Morningstar." She was ecstatic that you wanted to come and help at the hotel, giving you a crushing bear hug. She did ask about your skills and was very surprised when you said you were skilled in cooking. Dragging you inside, she allowed you to introduce yourself to the others. They were quite an odd bunch when you first saw them, but they seemed friendly. The demon holding Charlies hand was Vaggie. She seemed like a tough cookie, given how intense she was looking at you. Two other demons were sitting at the bar, chatting away. One appeared to be a spider like demon and the other was like a cat. The spider, who Charlie said was Angel Dust, gave you a flirtatious wink along with a hand shake, while the cat demon, Husk, just gave you a small wave. A small clattering of feet came from behind you, causing you to turn. You saw no one there, but then you felt something on top of your shoulder. Turning, you were face to face with a mini female demon with a large eye. She was gazing at you, wearing a huge smile, before she jumped off and ran back to where she came from. Charlie told you that was Niffty as she then introduced you to another patron of the hotel. He was a large black snack with pink eyes, wearing a grey suit and top hat. His face seemed nervous, but he had a kind expression. He gave a slight bow, while shaking your hand, telling you his name was "Sir Pentious"
Charlie kept looking around, wearing a confused expression. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Vaggie responded with her head shaking no. A large black circle soon appeared next to Charlie, then began to form into a person. The darkness soon faded away from the person to reveal themselves. The demon was dressed in a striped red suit, that went well with his monocle and bow tie. His bob hair cut was a crimson red, and were those antlers on his head. His fangs seemed very sharp, given how well you could see them through his wide tooth smile. "Here I am, Charlie my dear!" His voice was etched with static, reminding you of the old radio you had at your restaurant. "AH! Alastor! Just in time! I wanted to introduce you to Y/N. She is looking to work as a cook here." She push you closer to him, making you stand a few feet from each other. "Hello, nice to meet you." Giving a kind smile, you extended your hand out for a shake. The smile on his face widen, as he bent down, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. "Charmed!" His gesture gave you small tingles throughout your body. He then removed your hand and stood back to his full height. "So you are talented in the kitchen I presume?" Smiling more, you nodded your head. "Yes! I am self taught and I started working in my family restaurant at a young age."
Charlie then butted into the conversation, eyes sparkling. "Wow that's so amazing. What kind of food did you serve?" You twirled your hair with your finger. "Well it was the classic family restaurant, so club sandwiches, mac and cheese, homemade pies, the whole lot. But, I wanted to expand my skills, so I explored other cuisines to try and master." Angel Dust had gotten closer and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder, looking excited. "You any good with making Italian dishes toots?" Hehe it was cute how excited he was. You went over the list of all the cuisines you knew how to make, causing everyone's eyes to widen and mouths to drop, except Alastors, as he was still wearing a smile, but his eyes did expand a bit after listening to you. In a flash, you were pushed into the kitchen by everyone, faces adorned with wide smiles, waiting to see what you would make.
That felt like so long ago, as after amazing everyone's taste buds with your cooking, you were hired immediately on the spot. Realizing you were getting distracted from your thoughts of the past, you went back to cooking. Today you were making blueberry muffin cookies for everyone to enjoy.
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(Love making these⬆️)
The batter was all set, and what you needed next was the blueberries. Heading to the fridge, you opened the wide door, looking for the small container. "Ahh found you." Finding the small container, you grabbed it, moving back to allow the fridge door to close. "Salutations, my dear!" a static voice spoke next to you, causing you to scream, as the container from your hand dropped to the ground, causing all the blueberries to spill out. "Al! Don't do that!" your response earned a laugh from Alastor. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! Didn't mean to give you such a fright." He batted his eyes at you, trying to appear innocent, but you knew he was joking. "Yeah sure you didn't. Great now I'm out of blueberries since someone made me dropped them." Your legs bent down to the ground, grabbing the blueberries. Standing back up, you marched over to the trash bin and threw them away. A loud *SNAP* came from behind you, causing you to turn around. On the counter was a mini basket, containing fresh blueberries. "Oh thank you." Looking back at Alastor, you gave a thankful smile. "Your welcome, my dear! May I ask what type of concoction you are preparing?" He bent down, leaning against the counter, with his hands under his chin. Grabbing a few handfuls of blueberries, you went to the sink to give them a quick rinse, before coming back after patting them dry with a napkin. "Oh I'm making muffin cookies. Was craving something sweet so I decided to make a bunch for everyone. I'll save you a couple." You smiled up at Alastor, as you tossed the blueberries in the batter, and began to fold them in. Alastor grimaced slightly at that, and just wave his hand at you. "No need, my dear! I don't particularly care for sweets!" You nearly dropped your spatula at that. He didn't like sweets things?! You had made other baked goods and desserts in the past since you been here and you had assumed everyone had gave them a try and loved them, so it was a bit of a surprise when Alastor told you that he didn't like sweets. "How come?" Tilting your head at him, you waited for his response. Alastor raised his head, giving it some thought, before he looked back at you "Just don't like overly sweet things. I have a very limited palate, so I prefer to stick with that." His smile widen at you, sharpening at bit as he seemed to be thinking of something gruesome.
You continued to prepare the cookies, scooping them and placing them on a baking tray. A sudden thought came in your head, and you turned back to Al. "What sort of foods did you used to enjoy when you were alive?" Alastor raised an eyebrow at that. "My, a curious one aren't you? Well I grew up in the roaring 1920s in New Orleans, Louisiana. Oh, how I miss the sights and the bayous. I preferred venison and other meats, but I did indulge on other culinary dishes from time to time. Gumbo, Jambalaya, Po boys, oh my!" Alastor seemed almost in a trance, as he kept talking about his past. It was nice to see him so happy and excited, when discussing the time he was alive. "It sounds like you really enjoyed it." Alastor looked back at you, eyes holding a certain tender look. "Yes indeedy!" Your eyes remained locked on each other, until Alastors eyes glanced to the clock on the wall.
"Oh! Seems its time for my broadcast! Ta-ta, my dear!" Alastor gave his microphone stand a twirl, before disappearing into the shadows.Once he left, you couldn't stop thinking about what he told you, about his past life. The joyful look on his face kept replaying in your mind, when he was discussing the delicacies he enjoyed. "I want to see more of that expression" you thought. You continued to brainstorm, as you waited patiently for the cookies to be finished.
**Evening- Alastors POV**
"Ah! What a pleasant stroll that was!" Alastor had arrived back to the hotel, after just finishing his evening walk. He arrived back quite late, since the other denizens were not parading through the hotel lobby and lounge. Placing his hands behind his back, he headed in the direction that would lead him to his quarters. A pleasant smell was wafting through the air, stopping Al in his tracks. "My what a enticing aroma!" Alastor leaned his head back, taking in the amazing smell. His feet began making his way, searching for where the aroma was coming from. He had arrived in front of the kitchen doors, which were slightly opened and the lights still turned on. Peeking his head through the crack, he was surprised to see you in the kitchen still. Your air was tied up in a bun, while you were adorning kitchen apron. One of your hands was busy, stirring inside a large pot, while the other was adding in some seasonings. Alastor gave a small knock at the door, letting his presence be known. "Still cooking, my dear? It is way past your bedtime!" Turning your head, you flashed a large smile at Al. "Oh! You're here! Come sit, its almost ready!" Your crooked your finger at Al, telling him to come closer and take a seat near the kitchen table. Alastor cocked his head at you, still confused on what was going on. He soon took a seat, placing his hands on his lap. "Wanted to surprise you." He heard you say, as he watched you grab a bowl, pouring the concoction from the pot to the bowl. You saw you walk closer to him, placing the bowl down in front of him. Alastor's eyes widen at the site, before turning to look at you. "My dear, what is this by chance?" Smiling, you took a seat on the other side of the table. "Its seafood gumbo!
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(Bowl in front of Alastor)
Alastor continued to gaze at you in shock, then back to the bowl , then back to you. "Did you stay up just to make this for me?" He saw your face flushed as you rubbed your neck. "I did yes! You appeared very happy when you told me what you liked to eat when you were alive, so I thought I would surprise you by making a Creole dish." Alastor continued to stare at you, his eyes going soft from how sweet the gesture was. The smell of the prawns and cajun spice was making his mouth water. "This is my first time making this, so I hope you like it." Alastor nearly jumped when he heard that. "My dear, you never cooked Cajun food before?" You shook your head no at him. "I always knew about Cajun cuisine, just never got to it. Now come on, hurry before it gets cold!" You gestured for him to start eating as you placed your hands under your chin, copying him. The smile on his face grew, as he looked back at the bowl in front of him.
**Your POV**
You were sweating like crazy. This was the first time you ever made gumbo, and now you were scared that you messed up. Last thing you wanted was Al to try it, then recoil in disgust. Your eyes watched him lift the spoon of the broth and place it in his mouth. His expression was unreadable, making you all the more nervous. As he took the spoon out from his mouth, you saw the gentle smile on his face. "Superb." He took another spoonful of the broth, placing it back in his mouth, letting out a pleasant mmm. Phew! you were glad he loved it. You continued to watch him eat, before getting up from the table and walking towards the oven. Alastor didn't even notice you leave, as he was too immersed in the dish in front of him. The savory taste of the broth and spice that kept flooding in was so nostalgic to him. Soon there was nothing left, and Alastor leaned back against the chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Absolutely amazing, my dear! Thank you." Alastor motioned his head to look at you, as he saw you removing something from the oven. "Your welcome! Hope you have some room for dessert?" Alastor gave a small grimace. "My dear, I told you before, I am not one for sweets!" Giggling, you placed what you had made on a bowl, before sprinkling some powder on them. "Are you sure? Something tells me these might change your mind."
Carrying a plate in front of you, you placed it on the table. Alastor eyes once again widen at the sight. In front of him was a plate filled with freshly made beignets, piping hot and covered in powdered sugar.
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"Go on, try one." You stepped back and made your way back over to the chair. Alastor seemed a bit hesitant to try them, the feelings of his past and his dislike for sweets were battling with each other. Moving his hand slowly, he grabbed one of them from the plate, hovering it next to his mouth. Finally he took a bite. Alastors eyes enlarged again, as he took another huge bite of the beignet, before grabbing another one. Soon there were no more left on the plate, only crumbs remaining. "Ahhhhhh~. Delicious!" Alastor wore a peaceful expression on his face, as he leaned back against the chair. He then heard you break into fits of laughter. "What is funny, my dear?" He eyed you curiously, as you kept laughing hysterically. "Ahahahahaha! You...you have powder all over your face!" Your finger was pointed up at him, as you were trying to calm down from laughing so hard. Alastor jumped a bit, before rubbing his mouth with his finger, seeing a trace of white on it. "Here, I'll give you a napkin." Getting up, you went to grab him a napkin for coming back to him. "Thank you!", Smiling, he grabbed it and began to clean his face.
Once he was finished, he looked back at you. His eyes held so much emotion, as he continued to gaze at you. He got up slowly from the chair, standing up to his full height, as he pointed his head down towards you. Raising a hand, he placed it on your cheek. "Thank you again, my dear. But, why did you go through all this trouble to make this for me?" Raising one of your hands up, you placed it against the hand that was on your cheek. "I wanted to see that expression of yours again. You seemed such in high spirits when you talked to me about your past, so I wanted to make you something." Alastor chuckled down at you, finding your reasoning simply adorable. "You reminded me of something my dear mother use to tell me "A way to a mans heart is through his stomach."" Your whole face flushed at that, painting your cheeks a deep red. Alastor slowly inched closer to you, bending his head down closer. His lips had landed on your cheek, giving it a soft peck, before he pulled back slowly to gaze at you. "Thank you again, y/n." His body began to morph into blackness as he became one with his shadow, and then disappeared from you, leaving you a blushing mess.
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xxliliana-screamsxx · 2 years
Text
SALLY FACE HEAD CANONS 💙
(I'm bored so why not)
Disclaimer: this contains mild nsfw so if you aren't into that kind of stuff, I have some general HCs too so need to feel left out ☺️ (characters are Sal and Larry 😊)
Sal Fisher 💙
He would most definitely plan treehouse dates
(TW) If you have SH scars, he will draw little stars, cats, hearts etc. Over them💞
He tries to be the giver in the relationship, but he always ends up being the one who has his head buried in your chest
Kiss him all over his prosthetic, he loves it ❤️
If you ask if you can play with his hair, he will 100% let you
Loves it when you scratch his scalp (he has a sensitive scalp so plz run your fingers through his hair)
Back to his sensitive scalp, he wants to tell you how good it feels but he can't describe it without it sounding pervy so he just keeps quiet
Would definitely rest his head on your thighs
You have boobs? Well they're his pillows now
He is great at comforting you 💖
If you're having a panic attack or you're just worried about something, he will be there to help you through it all 😚
His scent is like lavender mixed with a dash of an old book kinda smell and cigarette smoke. Ya know? Since he's around Larry a lot he'd probably have a slight cigarette smell to him.
Larry Johnson 🤎
He's a tits guy...prove me wrong
He's definitely a giver
Smoke sesh dates 😩👌 perfection
This man doesn't give a fuck who's watching, he will gladly make out with you in front of whoever
Just like Sal, he uses your boobs as a pillow
Not so great at comforting people as much as Sal but he tries okay 😭
You know how some plugs 🔌 will gives a few girls the "pretty discount"? Larry will give you that good kush for free and not just bc you're his gf but bc boobies 🧍(can't blame him, boobs are great just not when you have to deal with them 🥲)
KISS. HIS. CHEST. 👏👏
Bro LOVES when you kiss his chest, goes absolutely feral for chest kisses bro 🫠
Loves it when you braid his hair
Will definitely show the gang after you braid his hair
His scent is like fabric softener mixed with cigarette smoke, with a hint of marijuana
NSFW HCs❤️
Sal fisher 💙
He's a switch ❤️
He's a slut for chubby girls (same)
He likes giving and making you feel good but he LOVES it when you make him feel like he's on cloud 9 😌👌
When you guys both started being intimate with each other, he was a nervous boi. Ofc you guys both started out being Virgins and it was quite obvious that neither of you had any idea how to start
Sal was very nervous his first time, so he asked for you to be on top
The boy is touch starved, so when you gave him the littlest bit of skin to skin contact, oh girl he MELTED 🫠
Ever since you guys tested the waters with what you like during sex, he has come to like being the bottom a lot but he still loves making you feel good so he'll do top service 👌
He's a whiny boy, he most definitely whimpers... don't argue with me cuz me and you both know that he would 👁️👁️
Now a question that has probably been floating in all of our minds...does the prosthetic stay on during sex??? The answer is... occasionally.
Though he will take it off sometimes but he mainly takes it off when he's doing top service cuz it's gonna be hella hard to breathe with that on.
Please PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF SATAN PRAISE HIM 😩🙏
he most DEFINITELY has a praise kink, tell him how good he is, tell him that he's being such a good boy please 😩
Now for other kinks, he doesn't seem pretty vanilla but he also doesn't seem pretty kinky either. So I think he's kinky to an extent, like he'll be kinky with you only if you're comfortable with it
I feel like his kinks are edging, bondage, mommy kink. I feel like he likes receiving edging and bondage to an extent, and the mommy kink was something that he found out he had when you guys were at it
Like imagine you riding him and you keep on edging him and all of a sudden he moans out "mommy~" and it shocked both of you 💀 you guys both stop dead in your tracks and he starts apologizing for calling you mommy and ofc you kinda liked it 👀
So from then on he has gotten a mommy kink from that experience 🫠
Larry Johnson 🤎
Like I said with him being a tits guy, he ADORES your boobs.
When I say he adores them, I mean by full on worship, it doesn't matter if they're small or big as long as they are there, he'll worship them 🙏
He definitely loves chubby girls, don't argue with me about it🧍
About the body worship thing, he will spend hours on end buried in your chest
He'll run his hands over your curves and feel every curve,dip,scars, and any marks you have 🫠(I'm melting over my own HCs damn 💀)
He is a top but a service top 🔝
He's chill with whatever you wanna try in the bedroom as long as you're okay with it
I have a feeling that he would be a bottom for you if that's something you wanna try out
Not full on bottom but the type of bottom that praises you and worships you while you use them
He's good with his fingers fsfs 😩
If you have SH scars, he will kiss your scars and make you feel like the only girl in the world ❤️
I have a feeling that when he climaxes he slurs out something that just makes the butterflies in your stomach do flips like, "God you're so beautiful" "I love you" "I wanna stay like this forever"
High sex...🧍 don't lie you thought about it too
I think that in the relationship he would care a lot about you more than himself and he'd personally come to your apartment and check up on you
His kinks would be bondage, voyeur, edging
His moans are angelic 🫠😩
Okay that's all I got for now baby bats, hope you liked it and I shall disappear for the next week aka going to school and failing all classes in the process lmao. Love you all 💜
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fatkish · 5 months
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Hi!! 🐶 anon here. Was wondering if I could request a sort-of sequel to the last fic I requested? Like the reader after being rescued by him has separation anxiety from him and their therapist recommended for now reader stays close by him, so he’s taking a break from hero work, but for teaching he just brings reader along? So basically 1-a seeing reader being clingy and stuff with Aizawa. Maybe they experience a PTSD episode, idk. Just something like that! Take ur time with this request ^^;;
Aizawa x SA Victim Reader Part 2
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After going to a therapist for a few months, the therapist decided that it would probably be best to slowly reintroduce you to social situations
Since Aizawa was the only person who you seemed to trust wholly and entirely, your therapist suggested that he work with you
The first few activities were simple enough
A walk in the park, literally, you both held hands or stuck together as you spent an hour in the public space
The next was a picnic in the park, Aizawa had made Bentos for the both of you. They had chicken Katsu on top of fried rice and for sides he put stir fired vegetables and some seaweed wrapped tamagoyaki. He brought a blanket with you guys as well as drinks and you both sat together and ate your lunches
Plenty of women would giggle seeing such a cute seen of a father and daughter
After a couple of these outages your therapist suggested slightly more densely populated areas
So your next adventure was grocery shopping with Aizawa. He promised you that you didn’t need to worry or feel paranoid because he’d be watching your back
You were slightly anxious when walking down aisles that other people were in but you simply held Aizawa’s hand and persevered
After each outing Aizawa would give you a soft smile and tell you how well you did and how he’s so proud of you
If you panic or freak out, he’ll pick you up and have you focus on him, and tell you that you’re safe because you’re with him and he won’t let anything hurt you
During one of the grocery trips, a kind old lady remarked about how cute it was seeing a little girl with her dad
After giving you a compliment the old lady offered you a candy to which you looked at Aizawa to see if it was okay. He smiled and gently nudged you forward and you accepted it and thanked the lady.
After a few more outings at places like grocery stores, restaurants, the mall basically just any place where people are closer together, and after having a few interactions with people, your therapist thought it was time to focus on social interactions
For this, Aizawa begrudgingly agreed to getting you a service/guard dog. Basically the dog would stay at your side and alert to any potential threats and lead you away. If you had a panic attack, the dog would sit or lay on you and help ground you. If someone tried to attack you, there were specific words in a foreign language that would tell the dog to attack
Now that you had this dog, Aizawa decided it was time he returned to teaching
The first thing he did was introduce you to the teachers. Coincidentally, Vlad kind had brought his bulldog in that day. You immediately warmed up to his dog and was somewhat okay with him since he kinda looked like his dog
Later you met Nedzu who you immediately had the urge to pet. Aizawa thought Nedzu would be mad when you pet his head and asked if he was Mickey Mouse’s cousin
Nedzu laughed and smiled not bothered at all by your curiosity, infact, Nedzu was more than happy to help teach you and satisfy your curious mind
After a few days getting to know the school, Aizawa decided to introduce you to his class
This is when things went south
Despite having warned his students (particularly a certain grape head) about your past and to be careful with their words, some obviously didn���t get the memo
Upon entering the class, many had greeted you which spooked you a bit
The first students you were comfortable with were Asui, Momo, Koda and Todoroki
Asui and Momo seemed very mellow and almost motherly in their calm and relaxed demeanors. Todoroki was quite and greeted you once but then seemingly ignored you which actually made you feel good because you felt that it meant he wouldn’t come after you. Koda was quite but your dog seemed to like him which is why you trusted him
The students had tried not to scare you but Iida, Bakugou, Ashido, Uraraka, Kirishima and Kaminari had spooked you
Ashido had practically jumped on you telling you how cute you were which scared you, Uraraka, and Iida were really loud which scared you. Kirishima didn’t really understand personal space to which Kaminari tried to tell him off, albeit, a bit loudly, which them prompted Bakugou to use his quirk setting off explosions and yelling at everyone to shut up cause they’re obviously scaring you
When the class went quiet it allowed for you to hear what Mineta had said
Of couse, he had to make a comment about how hot you’d look in a few years as he imagined you with a curvaceous body whilst making a lewd face and drooling
This triggered you
Bakugou immediately slammed his hand down on Mineta’s desk setting of small explosions and yelling at him
You started to hyperventilate and ran away to Nedzu’s office since he made you feel calm
When Nedzu saw your upset state he made you some tea and offered you some cookies while he asked you yes or no questions
Whilst Nedzu calmed you down and talked with you, Aizawa yelled at his students and decided that something had to be done with Mineta. Once he managed to get his class back under control, he was about to deal out punishments when the door opened with Nedzu in front and you behind him
You ran to Aizawa and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. Nedzu then walked into the room and nodded at Aizawa, giving him permission (read as kindly ordered him) to leave the room
As Aizawa cradled you and walked you to the teacher’s lounge to settle you down, Nedzu asked the class what happened and after lecturing them for 2 hours, Nedzu finished his lecture by Expelling Mineta and blacklisting him from any hero courses
That night, Aizawa made sure to have your favorite food for dinner and made sure that you felt safe and gave you all the cuddles you could ask for
(Hope you enjoyed this puppy 🐶 anon. And I hope it helps)
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theboombutton · 4 months
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Ok so Alex was the main writer for this casement, and obviously he knew we would latch on to incidental characters that seem a lot like Jon and Martin.
The questions I have are: first, whether it was a prank on TMA fans; and second, if it's not a prank, what he intended to convey by including them. Alex doesn't seem like the kind of guy to leave jmart fan service for its own sake; if those are truly alternate Jon and Martin, I suspect they're there for a story or setting reason.
Was it a prank?
I'm inclined to answer no. Darrien didn't just describe them, he wondered aloud while recounting his story if what happened to him also happened to them. That's not out of the question for prank red-string-bait, but the more you harp on incidental characters that seem like Jon and Martin, the more plausible it becomes that they are. People red-stringing over things that the author draws a circle around and writes "look at this!" next to isn't funny - it's just analysis.
Prank is still on the table, but it's not my preferred explanation.
If they are alternate Jon & Martin, what does their presence here imply?
One thing it probably implies is that we're dealing with more than one alternate universe here.
So far we've only had evidence of two: the Protocolverse, and Celia's home universe. We're reasonably sure that Celia's home universe is the Archiverse, because the character voiced by Lowri in TMA only took the name Celia after she lost her memories in the Eyepocalypse. And if Darrien comes from a universe where Martin worked reception at a therapist's office and Jon was a client, then he didn't come from the Archiverse. He came through from another, until-now-unknown-to-us universe.
Wild speculation ahead
Turn back now if you only want thoughts that are well-evidenced
There's also another possibility we could stack on top of the implication of a third universe. This is primarily supported by Doylist reasoning, rather than in-universe evidence.
Alex wrote ?Jon and ?Martin in close proximity to Darrien's universe shift. He brought attention to the fact that Darrien didn't recognize either of them - ?Martin being a new hire, and ?Jon being a new-enough face to be worth pondering. This would imply it was fairly likely ?Jon and ?Martin's first meeting - likely even their first time being in a room together. And Alex, through Darrien, further invited us to wonder if ?Jon and ?Martin had been pulled across universes as well.
Is it possible that the universe shift happened because of Therapyverse's Jon and Martin being in close proximity at the time?
Jon and Martin are apparently cosmically important in at least the Protocolverse, given that they manifested as two of FR3-D1's voices. What if something in the Protocolverse is pulling in Jons and Martins from other universes? It might be easier or more efficient to find or to pull them when they cross paths, and Darrien just got schlurped up with them this time.
Who would be interested in collecting alternate Jons and Martins? I can think of a few possibilities:
The Fears. They've got Jon and Martin reading case files, maybe they need more Jon & Martin to make FR3-D1 go.
The OIAR. Lena said some entities are benevolent, most aren't, and they're trying to maintain a balance. If Jon and Martin are their "benevolent entities," then maybe they think pulling additional copies into their universe's fear-space strengthens them. Maybe they're even right.
The Magnus Institute itself. It was still around at the time of Darrien's shift, given that the case is from the Institute's files. Jonah Magnus may have figured out (or found out) that Jon and Martin had something to do with his ascension in another universe, and started abducting alternate versions of them as part of his research.
Maybe Chester and Norris started talking a year ago because someone or something finally pulled enough Jons and Martins (and J2s?) into an extradimensional JMalgamation to give them the necessary power.
Maybe Darrien got spat out practically starved to death because he couldn't feed on fear, nor were there versions of himself that could that he could amalgamate with.
And who the fuck is the second J?
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lesbikaiser · 1 month
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What do you think about mean dom Ness? ik he seems like a sub or a service dom, but maybe of he was jealous? I kind of just really want to see a more rough ness ig & I really love your writing style!
now now, mean dom!ness isn't something i was actually expecting, but i do have a few thoughts about it! hope you like it bae ><
also he gets a lil possessive at the end sorry not sorry!
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ness is that type of person who gets all passive-aggressive when jealous, his words full of a faux sympathy. you don't really see this side of him often, but he can't help it when there's this guy who's clearly into you touching your shoulders way too much and literally ogling your chest, and you seem so unaware of it! ness is pissed off, a possessive hand sneaking around your waist as he kisses the top of your head and asks you to come with him, lips stretched in one of those smiles that reaches his eyes – and the guy can tell it's everything but a friendly one.
and there ness is in between your legs, tongue flicking on your poor clit before disappearing inside your hole, his nose bumping against your little pearl and it feels so good, you can't help but lock your thighs around his head, whining his name. your hands pull on his hair and your toes curl in the air when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, your climax so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue – and so does ness.
it happens all too fast. one moment your eyes are rolling back and you're moaning his name out loudly, orgasm about to hit you, and the other you're gagging and whimpering as literal tears pool in your eyes, your head coming up to look down at your boyfriend who just stopped everything he was doing to you – and he's fucking smile. that damn stupid smile of his.
"n-no, ness–! why would you do it?" you lift your upper body off the bed, supporting your weight on your elbows as you stare at him with helpless eyes, he's never edged you before.
"aw, poor thing..." and there it is, the faux sympathy in his tone makes you frown, he's acting like he wasn't the one who's done it to you. "it's such a shame, isn't it? getting the thing you want the most taken away from you..."
and suddenly he's coming up to meet your eyes, shoving two of his fingers inside you as his lips touch your ear, he sounds so soft when speaking you almost ignore his words.
"won't make you cum until you understand i'm never letting anyone take you away from me, mein schatz."
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Text
You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."
"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"
Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."
"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."
Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."
You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"
"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."
"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"
"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"
Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'
What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.
I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.
A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.
In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."
It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.
I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.
After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties
You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."
I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."
You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."
It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.
"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.
Who am I do decline?
I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.
You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.
All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."
My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?
I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.
What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?
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irisintheafterglow · 10 months
Text
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman
summary: a creep walks up to the shake stand window. your favorite customer scares him off. (college au!iwaizumi x you)
wc: 1.9k
cw/tags: college!au iwaizumi, creepy dude but he gets scared off don't worry, buff iwa gets nervous around you
note: so there's a protein shake stand like right outside my school's gym and that's where the inspiration for this little brain fart came from. also this is wholeheartedly dedicated to @shotorus my favorite iwa simp. i really hope you like this, it's my first time writing for your man but it most definitely will not be the last :D
likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3
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You didn’t anticipate finding a gym crush outside of the student rec center. Yet, there he was, every day at 5:00 passing the stand and every day at 6:30 ordering his usual, strawberries and bananas with chocolate protein powder. It’s a wonder how strictly he stuck to his schedule and you made it a point to have his order queued up in the system by the time he got to the window. To your detriment, it seemed that your infatuation had become obvious enough to your usually-oblivious coworkers. 
“At this point, I think you took this job just to ogle him,” one of your friends points out as she runs a colander of fruit under the faucet. You give her a lighthearted glare and she flicks a few water droplets at you. “I’d guess you like seeing him more than the tips that other guys put in the jar. You really do so much for this company,” she says patronizingly and you roll your eyes. She had a point; you tended not to notice the phone numbers written on dirty napkins or social media handles hastily drawn on dollar bills. None of them interested you. None of them, except for the dude with a body like a Greek hero that made you want to get kidnapped by some mythological being. 
“I just think he has a nice physique; is that such a bad thing?” She shoots you a skeptical look and you turn away sheepishly to check the clock. Thirty seconds to 6:30. “He should be here in a little bit,” you say quietly to yourself, hoping she doesn’t hear. It’s a nice sentiment, but ultimately futile. 
“You’re counting down the seconds? Man, you’re worse than I thought.” She pats your shoulder sympathetically as she passes behind you and you lean your hands on the register counter. 
“As if you’ve never had a gym crush before,” you fire back. 
“You’re supposed to actually be inside the gym to have a gym crush,” she reminds you and you groan. “Why don’t you just switch your shift so you can see him while you workout?”
“I tutor before this, remember? Plus, I need to be able to charm the evening regulars so I can keep paying rent,” you admit. She nods in understanding and a glance at the clock shows ten seconds until 6:30. Your other usuals had come and gone for the day: the guy in the blue tank top that only seemed to work his forearms and biceps, the girl with the silly socks that had the most muscular calves you’d ever seen, the two frat bros with their backwards caps and arrogant voices. It hits 6:30, however, and your favorite regular isn’t behind the glass. He isn’t anywhere around, you realize. You can’t help the frown that draws the corner of your mouth down and, when you look to your coworker for support, she merely shrugs before grabbing a tub of powder from the top shelf. “It’s odd that he isn’t here yet.”
“Only you would think that,” she teases and you refocus on pulling up his usual order on the payment screen. “Maybe he got sick. There’s that frat flu going around right now.”
“Why would he be in a frat, though? And also, he’s definitely the type to wipe the hell out of every machine he uses.”
“If he uses machines; personally, he strikes me as a free weights-only kind of guy.” Before you can reply, a knock on the glass startles you back into customer-service mode. The man in front of you looked relatively normal, but the way his eyes looked you up and down several times made your stomach queasy. It wasn’t the first time creeps had checked you out through the window, but maybe you were feeling a little extra vulnerable waiting around for a regular who didn’t even know your name. Avoiding the man’s intrusive gaze, you shakily pull up his order, swipe his card for payment, and let him know that his shake would be ready soon. 
“I have a question,” he says slowly before you can run and hide in the back. “What time are you out of here?”
“I’m not done for a while,” you state vaguely, praying that he wouldn’t ask about the remaining two and a half hours of your shift. “I work until closing.”
“I can come back and get you when you close.” His voice makes your skin crawl and his eyes feel like knives on your body.
“Excuse me?”
“Let me take you out to dinner. A nice looking person like you shouldn’t be alone at night.” Your heart drops into your stomach and your feet remain rooted to the floor, terrified in place. Was he gonna try to do something after you were off?
“Look, I’m not interested in any–”
“Hey, man. Are you done ordering yet? You’re holding up the line,” intrudes a voice that feels like a warm blanket wrapping around your shoulders. Somewhere between his usual order time and the creep asking you out, your favorite little crush came to stand in line to pay. His shoulders seemed extra broad today and the muscle of his biceps flexed under his compression shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring daggers down at the guy who was freaking you out. He’d never looked so handsome, all sharp jawline and flexed muscles and piercing eyes. The creep recoils and scurries away, allowing you to take a deep breath that helps relieve some of the tension in your forehead. By pure muscle memory and running on adrenaline, your fingers swipe over the tablet and pull up his usual order before he can even say hello. 
“Strawberry and banana with chocolate protein powder, right?”
“Yeah, that…that’s mine,” he says, slightly taken aback by the lingering expression of panic on your face. While he eyes you warily, you swipe his card and hand him his receipt, suddenly desperate to just disappear into the back for the rest of your shift. “Hey, are you okay?”
“What? No, yeah. I’m fine, totally fine,” you lie and give him a weak smile. His eyebrows furrow slightly and you can feel him try to analyze you, but not in the dehumanizing way as your previous customer. His eyes searched your expression worriedly and you caught him biting skin from his lip in concern. “It’s just that the guy before you was being a little weird.” Calling him “weird” was an understatement, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him more than you already have. “I’m fine, really.” He watches you for a moment more and then nods, murmuring a thank you under his breath and finding a spot to wait for his shake. 
“This fell on the floor by the trash can,” he says plainly when he walks up to the pickup window after you call out his drink. The creepy guy hadn’t left the area yet, so your fight or flight instincts were still going haywire. Your gym crush, however, momentarily takes your attention by subtly sliding a dirty piece of paper across the counter to you as he picks up his cup with the other hand. “Thanks; I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before you can blink, he’s gone, leaving you with a cryptic folded message that makes your head spin. You sputter out an awkward farewell and hastily unfold the piece of paper. 
I’ll be studying in the computer lab until the stand closes. If he’s still bothering you, come find me and I’ll walk you to your car or your dorm or wherever. -Iwaizumi Hajime 
A sturdy rectangle of plastic falls from the paper and you stare at it in disbelief. It was an ID card for the university’s after-hours patrol division with his picture, full name, and student number printed on it. Iwaizumi, you echo mentally, you’re too good to be true. And, true to his promise, he’s a respectful distance away and stands with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants at 9:00 when you lock up the shake stand. You’d lost sight of the creep an hour after Iwaizumi picked up his drink, but the paranoia didn’t leave your body and you’re only able to relax when he approaches you. 
“This is yours,” you say, handing him his ID card with a small smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” he replies regretfully, uncomfortably adjusting his water bottle tucked into the crook of his elbow. “None of the guys at the gym like him. He’s always hitting on girls and giving them weird looks.” 
“Looks like he was forced to look outside the gym, then,” you laugh lightly, feeling the tension release from your shoulders as you walk next to Iwaizumi in the direction of the parking lot. “Did your drink still taste okay? Or did my nervousness make it taste funny?” When he chuckles, it sounds like sunshine. 
“It was just as tasty as it always is, thank you. You’ve really figured out how to make me the perfect drink every time.”
“Anything for my favorite customer,” you say without hesitation and your face feels like it’s been lit on fire. To your surprise, however, it seemed that Iwaizumi was just as flustered by your words. His eyes widen and his pretty mouth gapes a little bit, blinking rapidly to fix the short circuit in his brain. “I just hope he doesn’t come around here again. He makes my stomach churn.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he forces out and he’s silent for a while until your car is in sight. “Hey, sorry if this is super off-base, but do you wanna workout with me sometime? I can change the time I go but, if it means you don’t feel scared by that guy anymore, I’ll gladly rearrange my schedule.” 
“You want me to workout with you?”
“I’d like to meet you for lunch sometime, too, but I figured I’d start with baby steps,” he admits, running a hand nervously through his hair while you fish your keys from your bag. “If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine–”
“No, no, I’d love to,” you reassure him and he looks visibly relieved. “I’ll change up my shift so you can still go around the same time you usually do, and I can just meet you outside. I’ve been needing a new spotter since mine picked up extra shifts in the library.” 
“Great, yeah, awesome,” he says, a little dumbfounded by how eagerly you would give him a chance. If he was being honest, he’d wanted to ask you your name for months since you memorized his order, but he didn’t want to come off as pushy and ruin his chance with you. “Do you, uh, mind if I give you my number? Or I can give you a social media handle too if you’re not comfortable sharing your number.” God, he’s so good. He is so, so good. “Can you let me know you get home safe?”
“I will,” you promise. “Thank you for everything, Iwaizumi.”
“You can call me Hajime, if you want,” he offers softly and the fondness in his voice makes your heart flip. “Iwaizumi is fine too. Anything is fine.” 
“Right,” you smile. “Well, goodnight, Hajime. Get home safe.”
“You too. Talk soon, okay?”
“I can’t wait.”
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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n6ptunova · 10 months
Note
i loved your chris bf hcs! could you please do one for matt? thank you and i hope you’re having a good day :)
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boyfriend headcanons • matt sturniolo
a/n: thank you so much ily!! hope you enjoy thiss🫶
warnings: none
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- you can’t convince me that matt wouldn’t be the type of bf who accidentally ignores you in public/groups of friends. he doesn’t mean to but he’s so awkward and doesn’t like pda much so when he tries to avoid it he avoids you altogether. it used to hurt your feelings but after talking to him he reassured you that he’s just a dumbass.
- he makes up for being distant in public when you guys are alone tho. he lovesss having you in his arms hugging his slutty waist, while he strokes your hair and kisses your head/cheeks occasionally. he’s def the big spoon most of the time.
- his love language is physical touch and acts of service, so he’ll often want to drive you to run errands together (grocery shopping, ikea visits, etc.) it makes him feel like you’re a married couple which kind of sums up your relationship with him.
- he’s also the designated bug killer, bob the builder ass bf. you got new furniture that needs to be built? he’s doing it no question. you broke something and need it fixed? he’s on it. he almost babies you honestly and he loves it but when you take it too far and act too spoiled he’ll be like alright wrap it up.
- he’s kind of moody sometimes for no reason like you’ll be making jokes or annoying him for fun and he’s just “not having it” when in reality he can’t get enough of your attention, he’ll pretend to be annoyed and keep rolling his eyes but he can’t wipe the goofy ass smile off his face.
- BABY FEVER!! every time he seems a cute baby out in public or on tiktok he turns into the biggest softy, “babe look oh my goddd they’re so cute i want one.” *hears the baby laughing* “nvm i want ten.”
- perks of dating someone with a car (ns to chris and nick! full shade actually) is you get to go on a lot of late night cruises with the top down, blasting your fav music, him using his free hand to switch between holding yours and placing it on your thigh. plus you get some privacy to….be risky! if ykwim
- matt loves when you take an interest in something he loves eg. pokemon, certain artists he listens to, cabin life, etc. he gets so excited and giddy and he’ll want to tell you everything he knows about these things. and he does the same for you but he gets embarrassed and defensive if you point it out so you just silently appreciate it.
- ^ you once caught him reading one of your favorite books simply because he wanted to talk to you about it and seeing you get all excited and passionate while talking about it.
- he’s definitely a soft launch type of guy. always posting pics where you just barely show. the back of your head, or your nails in the corner of the pic, your shoes etc. i can’t imagine him fully posting up with his gf on instagram or tiktok but maybe if it’s been a few years he’d do it for anniversaries and it’ll be like aesthetic ass pinterest vibes photos.
- matt would always be taking candid photos/videos of you and saves them in an album that’s full of just you. 90% of his screen time is his camera roll just bc he’s always looking and admiring the pics he took of you, he’s obsessed fr.
- after a while i feel like matt would start to show his silly/goofy side a lot more with you. he would so be the type to chase you around trying to tickle you- he just loves hearing your laugh. it usually ends with him pinning you down with one hand and tickling you with the other until you’re almost out of breath then he’ll stop and kiss you to make up for it.
- he’ll be more talkative with you than with his brothers sometimes since you don’t interrupt. he’s always rambling about whatever’s on his mind and apologies after like pookie you’re good talk more!!
- he’s a bit indecisive in general like where to eat, date ideas and stuff but he tries because he knows you like when he’s ‘assertive’. idk how to explain this but he acts like the stereotypical “man provides” but in a non toxic/non misogynistic way.
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Can I request general dating headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gender neutral s/o?
🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan & Zevlor
# Notes: using they/them pronouns for haarlep bc we deserve a gnc icon
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🌿┊HAARLEP
Surprisingly very romantic. Which romance language is their main one, you ask? The answer is all of the above. Physical touch? Please, they're an incubus, it goes without saying they'll have their hands all over you all the time. Words of affirmation? They know how to put together a compliment, your name sounds like a lyric on their tongue. Gift giving? They're very keen on jewellery, always surprising you with a golden necklace or bracelet. Acts of service? This motherfucker is a giver, ask and ye shall receive. Quality time? The day they're not at your heels is the day the nine hells freeze over.
Clingy and needy. Will pout and complain every second they're not receiving attention, not above throwing tantrums either. What could possibly be more important than lavishing them with affection? Nothing, that's what. So put that book down, they demand cuddles.
Was definitely not expecting to fall in love. Love is such a sweet and pure concept and they're... Well, them. It just didn't seem compatible with their nature. So when they realized they were beginning to like you more and more, they felt a bit frightened. It was such an unusual feeling, but they grew to welcome it with time.
Definitely gets a bit spoiled just being around you. Tenderness is hard to come by in the hells, so now that they've tasted it, they want more more more. Also talks back to Raphael a lot more now — they deserve the best treatment they can receive, the devil can shove it.
Service top in and out of bed. Again, they're a total giver, always tending to your needs. Had a hard day? They got your favourite food and ran you a bath, go ahead and enjoy it, they'll be there for cuddles once you're nice and dry.
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🌿┊DAMMON
Has no control over his tail whatsoever, it will be wagging whenever you're near or wrapping around you to keep you from leaving. He always blushes and apologizes profusely — it has a mind of its own, he says.
He's a bit of a workaholic. Will spend way too long cooped away in his forge. However, he doesn't resist or complain if or when you try to drag him away from there. He knows he needs it, and to be honest he's kind of a simp, will do almost anything you ask of him.
Super attention starved. He won't outright ask for affection, but that look in his eyes isn't fooling nobody. He absolutely melts when you hold or kiss him, he's such a sweetie.
Even before you start dating, he's super affectionate. He just likes letting the people around him know he cares for them. it's almost difficult to tell if he has a crush on you or not because of this little habit, but again, the tail doesn't lie.
Giddy whenever you're around. He's already a somewhat upbeat guy, but having his beloved close to him brings out the best in him (if that's even possible).
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🌿┊ROLAN
I love this stupid fucking wizard so much.
Does not know how to flirt. I'm a firm believer he never even kissed anyone before you. Not with his behaviour and obsession with his studies, at least. (And with Cal and Lia constantly at his heel).
Somewhat easily jealous. He has this mix of confidence and insecurity that's... odd, to say the least. He trusts you and thinks he's more than capable of pleasing you. On the other hand, he knows he's a pain in the ass most of the time, so if he sees you enjoying a conversation with someone a bit too much, it will gnaw at him.
As mentioned, not the most experienced. Your first kiss will probably be messy, especially if it's your first as well. Clanking teeth, a bit of drool, all that cute stuff. He's just a little too eager, okay?
Awkward and smooth as fuck at the same time. Really good at teasing you, but will sulk and blush if you do it back — especially if his siblings are around. He'll never hear the end of it.
He makes up for awkwardness with sheer eagerness, most of the time. He's just so happy to be able to call you his, to hold you, kiss you — he's over the moon. And you're not going anywhere anytime soon.
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🌿┊ZEVLOR
This dumbass paladin is such a romantic. He's more old-fashioned, of course — almost refuses to kiss you on the first date. Maybe even the second. He just wants to treat you right the best way he knows how, even if it can be a little frustrating at times.
Gets flustered easily, but never backs down. Like, he will blush and maybe stutter a little if you catch him off guard with a kiss or compliment, but will 100% reciprocate, maybe even make you blush in return.
Has some problems with inferiority and may think he doesn't deserve you at times. He sees himself as a coward and since he believes you deserve the best knight in shining armour you can get, he becomes a little insecure at times. Nothing some kisses won't solve.
Expect lots of communication. This is a man, not a boy. If something's wrong or bothering him, he will let you know and expects you to do the same. How else is the relationship supposed to flourish?
Not big on PDA. Again, he's old-fashioned. He believes affection like that should be kept behind closed doors, something for the couple and the couple only. But he won't say no to some hand-holding if you ask nicely.
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moonchildstyles · 8 months
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if I think I know what curious gazes is, I would love to see what rosemary/ex-hitman would look like in that lens! he's just so moody compared to her, it would be cool to see them how others do! thank you :D
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—————
Scrolling on her phone, Denise jumped and almost dropped the device when she heard the bell above the door tinkle in greeting. She wanted to stare down the new patrons that crossed the threshold, maybe they would get the message that she was not in the mood today. It had been completely dead her entire shift and she would prefer it to stay that way instead of pretending to be pleasant for the sake of a meager tip. 
Lifting her sharpened gaze, she thought better of her initial instinct as she slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans before approaching the pair waiting by the front door. The man stood tall with his head slightly ducked to his partner's height, turning an ear to her as she shared something quietly with him. He smiled in response, his gaze brightening as he turned to mutter something back. 
Denise's jaw tightened. It took everything in her not to blurt out and ask if they were aware that love didn't exist, that everything they were going through right now was nothing more than a passing fantasy before one of them would go off and meet someone new—maybe even the other's best friend—and fuck them behind her back and—
Taking in a deep breath, Denise reminded herself that she came to work today to forget. At least this way she could be paid for her moping. 
"Hi, how are you today?" she sounded once close enough, decidedly less perky than her usual customer service persona. The kitchen staff was going to be extra annoying today if they overheard her.
"Good, thank you! How are you?" the girl asked, her hand clasped tightly in her companion's. A bright smile covered her features, matching the bubbly inflection of her voice. She was just the kind of person that would have a flouncy bow in her hair, Denise thought bitterly. 
"I'm doing okay, thank you. Just the two of you?" she quickly moved on, reaching for a couple of flimsy menus from the half-assed hosting station. (She lodged a complaint at least once a week over this podium, citing how unnecessary the whole thing was for a diner like this. Her manager never seemed to receive them though, if the fact it was still here meant anything). 
"Yes, please," the girl chirped, her polite smile never waning. 
"Perfect," Denise deadpanned, already growing tired of the fluffy energy radiating off the pair of them, "This way, then." 
Denise didn't bother to check over her shoulder or make small talk as she led them to the booth in the farthest corner away from the bar top and kitchen window. Given the size of the restaurant, it wasn't very far, but at least this way she could strategically hide by the register and scroll on her phone or talk shit with the kitchen staff without prying eyes. 
"This work for you guys?" she asked out of habit, stepping aside in presentation of the booth. 
"This is perfect, thank you," the girl smiled, looking up to the man at her side as if to verify. He didn't do anything other than give a private smile to her, barely even glancing at Denise or the seating arrangement. Denise held back a huff. 
Leo used to look at her like that too, but then he fucked her best friend for six months. 
With that, the pair of them scooted into the vinyl seating across from one another, finally dropping their clasped hands. Placing the laminated menus in front of them, Denise rattled off the lunch specials from memory, barely registering her words as they fell from her tongue. A faux smile decorated her face as she asked for their preferred drinks.
"Um," the girl floundered, attempting to sweep over the menu in record time, "Just a lemonade, please?" 
Denise nodded before turning to the man, ensuring she didn't narrow her eyes too much at him. She saw the way he looked at his girlfriend with adoration in his eyes before realizing it was his turn. The gentle curl to his lips melted away when he looked up at Denise, voice flat as he ordered, "Water." 
A less than discreet scuffle from under the table sounded in the quiet diner. 
"Please," the man tacked on at the end. 
Better, Denise thought, a slight curl tugging at the corner of her lips. 
"Alright, I'll be back with those drinks in a minute and take your order," Denise explained, slipping away not a moment too soon.
As she left them behind, she could hear the traces of a quiet conversation.
"Sorry," the man's deep voice mumbled, "I forgot." 
"It's okay," the girl answered, ever-so-patient, "I know you're still getting used to it. You just have to talk to people like you talk to me, and you'll be okay." 
A humph sounded. "But none of them are you." 
Denise had to keep from rolling her eyes. She wanted so badly to believe that sincerity she swore was laced within his words, but today was not the day for believing in love and genuine relationships. Today was for being bitter while her ex cleaned his stuff out of her apartment.
Out of nothing but the need to wait on them as quickly as possible so she could go back to stewing, Denise quickly collected their drinks and returned to the booth in record time. After distributing out the glasses with a practiced smile, straightened to the full of her height and pulled out her pad. 
"Ready to order?" she recited, lifting her eyes only minutely from the page. 
The man piped up first, "Yes, please."
The girl smiled at him with a brightness to her gaze. Denise held back a scoff. 
They prattled off their orders in quick succession, the woman with a pleasant smile and the man with over-polite manners. With every please and thank you, his girlfriend looked that much happier.  
"Alright, I'll be back as soon as everything's ready," Denise smiled, itching to pass the order to the kitchen before hiding in her favorite spot. 
Striding through the small diner, she passed off the ticket to the lounging kitchen staff before breezing by to her own hiding spot. Tucking herself by the register just out of sight of the single filled booth, Denise scrolled on her phone. Angling herself just so, she was able to peek at the table without being obviously spotted—her favorite place to stowaway without missing out on taking care of her tables. 
Pulling up her photos as she had been before the couple's interruption, she attempted to delete as much evidence of the last year as she could before she was too annoyed to look at Leo's face anymore. 
Unsurprisingly, it didn't take very long for the sight of his stupid, lying, cheating, smiling face pushed her to lock her phone to keep from calling his mom to tell her what he did. In search of a distraction, she peered over the screen, finding the only available entertainment being the couple she currently despised.
It was with narrowed eyes that she watched them interact. Their voices were too low to be heard over the quiet music and the distance between them, leaving only the sound of small mutters as they sat in their private bubble. With the position of the booth, Denise was only able to see the face of the man and the way he looked at the woman across from him, how he reacted to whatever it was she was doing.
Denise saw the way the grim set of his features loosened and melted when the woman laughed, how the tense line of his shoulders settled when she reached out and touched his hand across the table, and the way his body curled towards her as if the table was an obstacle for where he really wanted to be. Parts of her thawed as she watched, as much as she hated to admit it. 
They were cute—even if the thought was stamped with bitterness. 
Putting her phone away and tearing her eyes from the couple, Denise deigned herself to clean up. It was an easy enough, boring task that would keep her occupied, even if she would rather sit on the floor behind the bar and mope instead. With a spray bottle and a rag in hand, she worked her way through the aisles and wiped down tables and the vinyl seating. It was mindless and a little too easy to get distracted, but this was better than spying on some couple or going through her photos and remembering her own relationship. 
Meandering through the tables, she eventually made it within earshot of the quiet conversation cuddled in the booth. Denise attempted to keep her ears to herself, not necessarily wanting to hear what she didn't have, but it was hard to tune them out with how minute her cleaning was. 
"You really like your bow?" the man had asked, his voice a low grumble in song with the music, "Y'don't have to be nice if y'don't, peach." 
"No, Harry, I love it. Seriously," the girl answered back, her voice light and convincing, "I didn't mean it as a bad thing that I have a lot in that color. Obviously, I like it if I buy it all the time." 
When a pause sounded between them, Denise had to keep herself from peering around to see what was taking them so long. 
"I wanted this one to be special," he finally mumbled. 
Turning to face another table that needed to be wiped down, Denise glanced up at them without a thought. The man had a slight tilt to his head as he gazed at his girlfriend, his eyes incredibly soft with every sharp edge of him rounded out. Reaching out, he had one of the tendrils of her bow pinched between her fingers, fondly tugging on it. 
"It is special, H," the woman insisted, "because you got it for me. Thank you—I really do love it, even if you're not sure." 
Denise could only watch a moment longer, catching the woman placing her hand on his as he played with her bow. She had to turn away then, feeling more of that ice thaw from her chest. 
Just in time, the bell at the kitchen window rang through the space with Kyle peering out towards her with an expectant look. Denise headed towards the kitchen, dropping off the cleaning supplies on her way. 
Collecting the dishes, she strided towards the only occupied table. When the man saw her approaching, particular ticks and stiff sets returned to his bones though she could tell he was trying to keep the pleasant expression on his features. He hadn't been bluffing when he had told his girlfriend that no one else was her—he didn't know how to act that way with anyone but her.
Though it did appear he was trying, just as she wanted. 
"Here we go, guys," Denise muttered, dropping off the correct plates in front of them (they both had ordered breakfast dishes, though it was too late in the day to still even be considered brunch and too early to be considered breakfast for dinner). "Everything look okay?" 
"This is perfect, thank you," the woman smiled, her bow slightly askew on the back of her head. 
A beat later, the man parroted, "Thank you." 
The woman's smile beamed brighter when she turned to face him. 
"Awesome," Denise posited, "I'll be by to check on you in a few minutes." 
With that, she skittered away, leaving them to the relative privacy of their booth. In her hiding spot, Denise hesitated to pull out of her phone. She wasn't sure if she was ready to feel the icy chill of looking at Leo's smiling face in her camera roll. 
She couldn't help her eyes from dancing up towards her patrons for a peek. 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, Denise saw as the man reached across the table with a fork aloft in his hand. He fed his girlfriend a bite of his meal before he had even tried it himself, awaiting her reaching. She saw the way his eyes scanned over her features, a soft smile replacing that of contemplation as he watched over her reaction.
"Good?" she could see him saying. 
Whatever response she gave him was enough to have a smile blooming over his face, complete with dimples and creases beside his eyes. 
More and more of her thawed and she saw the absolute joy that crossed the man's face as his girlfriend extended herself over the table, lifting from her seat. His hand coming to rest on her cheek, he welcomed her in for a small kiss. Though it was a quick contact, Denise caught the way his eyes lingered closed, soaking in the moment for just a breath longer before he was dropped back in reality. 
He was in love with her, no doubt. As bitter and frozen as she felt today, it was hard to imagine these two ending up like herself and Leo—one heartbroken and changed, while the other a liar with a smug face. 
Icicles fell from her heart as she watched them share food and quiet conversation meant for just the two of them. 
Maybe they would make it. 
—————
thank you so much for reading!! sorry for any mistakes and please lmk if you have any fun ideas!
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