#she always leaves traces of her around and when i find them it makes my heart feel light
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wetbananapeel · 2 years ago
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It makes my heart so full when I find the lost belongings from my friends long after hanging out with them. I found a lip gloss I'm going to have to mail back but finding it in the back of my car in my cupholder feels so endearing.
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gravegoer · 1 month ago
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ok ok hiiiii hope your doing well! Um this may be odd, but, imagine an au where fem reader sleeps in the same bed as best friend sevika but place a few pillows between each other because fem reader believes she's not into girls despite her best friend being an absolute hottie 😞
My Best Friend ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
this is ALSO one of my fav tropes, so thank you for this.. and yes I'm doing well ty summary: sevika could treat u better than he can !!! never let a man stop you from finding your wife. thats the moral for tday.
masterlist , new fic, sevika is your dads best friend..
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Sevika has been your best friend for a few years (although she would never admit it) and shes seen you through your best and worst.
After breakups with shitty men, she knows to find you at the last drop, laughing at your drunken state before dragging you home.
This was one of those nights.
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She had you slung over her shoulder while she keyed the lock on her door, grunting at your head that lulled on her shoulder, "Are we home..?"
Sevika nodded, dragging you through the doorway and sitting you on the couch gently. She grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water for you. Her heavy shoes thudded on the wooden floor as she made her way back to you.
Sitting beside you, she held your chin, pouring water into your mouth, "I don't like seeing you with those blunder-heads."
You gulped down the cold water greedly, attempting to soothe the dryness in your throat. You held her by the wrist to steady her hand.
Sevika scoffed, and you knew she was referring to your exes. You giggled at her seriousness, "I don't think I like being with them."
You felt the pressure lift from your head, feeling more sober. Clinging to Sevikas arm, you sighed, looking up at her. "You're lucky you dont have to deal with boyfriends."
Her features twisted, contorting into a sour look, "You don't have to either."
"Hm?" You hummed, mindlessly tracing the rim of your glass.
"I mean, you could always try women."
You laughed and said teasingly, "Like at the brothel?"
Her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, lips almost pulled into a pout, "No, no, like a girlfriend."
"What? Are you volunteering?" You smacked her on the arm and laid back further into the couch.
She smirked, Sevika’s cocky demeanor returning to her, "I wouldn't mind teaching you a few things."
You made a fake sound of disgust but laughed afterward. Although you couldn't deny she was beautiful, her thick arm was warm in your hold, and the angles of her face softened when you spoke.
Sevika treated you like no man ever had before. She was sweet in her own way, ans actually listened to what you had to say. You know she would never do anything to hurt you, and infact she was the one that picked you up after you got hurt.
You had never been interested in women, but Sevika definitely piqued your interest. Maybe it was all the memories you shared or the way she treated you. But maybe it was the way her V line connected to the waistband of her pants, emphazised by the warm light, the way her hair stuck to her sharp jaw that clenched under your gaze.
She interrupted your thoughts, "It's late, you should get to bed."
"Already? You aren't going to stay?"
She smirked again, revealing the flattering gao between her teeth, "All you have to do is ask, doll."
Heat rose to your face at the nickname. Maybe it was just the alcohol in your system, but it was starting to get hotter. You bit your lip, looking up at her through your lashes, "Please stay Sevika, I'll even make you breakfast before you leave in the morning."
That was music to her ears. At that, she stood up, grabbing your waist to take you with her. Eventually, she got tired of your stumbling and slowness and picked you up, arm under your legs, and prosthetic on your upperback.
You smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck, throwing your head back dramatically. She shook her head at your playfulness while kicking open your door.
Sevika tossed you onto the bed as gently as possible, and your eyes widened at the suggestive position you were in. She loomed over you, shadowing your body. Your knees were slightly bent and legs spread, almost inviting her between.
You could imagine her crawling up to you, hands pushing your knees apart to draw your face into hers. Instead, she sat beside you, leaning against the headboard and lighting a cigar.
Rolling your eyes, you pulled the blankets over you and laid facing away from her. She snickered at your mood change and patted you on the shoulder, "I want pancakes."
You didn't respond, humming at the thought of food. For the next several minutes, you could hear her mindlessly flicking her zippo top open and closed, flame flicking on and off.
You imagined her thick fingers against the cool metal, fire illuminating her always-bruised knuckles. Then, you imagined her fingers on your waist, then in your hair—
You groaned, shoving your face in the pillow, attempting to drown out the thoughts. The sound of her zippo halted before a small tiss, was heard.
You could feel the weight shift behind you as she moved to lay down, resting a hand on your back. Shimmying away from her touch, you rolled over to face her.
Sevika's eyes opened, and you immediately missed the peaceful look on her face. Now her brow was cocked and her lips curled downward.
Her grey eyes bore into yours as you spoke, "Only my girlfriend should be touching me in bed like that."
You mocked her words from earlier, but without any harshness. Her lips drew into a tight line, "I get it. You aren't into women. Im not trying anything funny."
She didn't have to say it because you knew she wouldn't. But a part of you didn't quite mind if she did.
"Okay, then—"
You picked up a few pillows, placing them between your bodies. "There."
She deadpanned, "Are you serious?"
You snickered, not responding, before turning back to your original position. After a few seconds, you heard her sigh and lay back down, definitely facing you. Sevika reached over the barrier to tug the blanket further up your frame, shielding you from the cold.
She treated you better than any man had, and you both knew it. Maybe you'll finally do something about it over some drinks tomorrow.
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i laaaaauuuvvvvvvv best friend sevika, idk if ill make a part 2 tho, i have some more fics coming out soon, some kind of suggestive?? and nsfw..????!! so follow for that, all cumming this week
taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids
comment to be added <333
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goldfades · 4 months ago
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THERE'S HOLY GROUND BENEATH THEM, AND SPARKS FLY WHEN THEY KISS──BUECKERS⁔
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for this request!
─ summary | you & paige have been together for a while, and you know nothing could come between you two—even distance itself.
─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader
─ word count | 1.8k
─ warnings | just fluff! paige being clingy af
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
⇹ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!
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It’s early morning when you wake to the soft rise and fall of Paige’s breath next to you. The sun barely peeks through the blinds, casting gentle lines of light across her face. You can't help but smile as you watch her, peaceful and completely at ease, as if the world outside doesn’t exist for a moment. It’s these quiet mornings you love the most—just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence.
You reach out, gently brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open, and a sleepy smile spreads across her lips.
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice low and rough with sleep.
"Morning," you whisper back, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Paige shifts closer to you, her arm sliding around your waist, pulling you against her. You can feel her warmth seep into you, and for a second, you close your eyes, soaking it all in.
“I still can’t believe this is real,” she admits softly, her breath warm against your skin.
It’s something she says often, almost like a reflex—a reminder of the way her past relationships left her unsure, hesitant. But you know her better now. You know how far she’s come, how much you’ve both learned together.
“Me neither,” you reply with a soft laugh, pressing your forehead against hers. “But we’re figuring it out, aren’t we?”
Paige nods, a small, determined smile playing at her lips. You can feel the tension that still lingers sometimes, the quiet fears she doesn’t always speak aloud. But you’ve made it clear from the start—this is new for both of you, and you’re in it together.
“I’m glad it’s with you,” she says after a beat, her voice soft but sure.
And in that moment, wrapped in the safety of her arms, you know without a doubt—nothing could ever come between you.
───
When Paige has to leave for away games, you can always tell something’s off before she even says a word. She tries to hide it, but you see it in the way she lingers just a little longer when you hold her, in the tight squeeze of her arms around you when she pulls you in for a hug. The way her fingers stay tangled with yours as if she’s afraid to let go, like if she holds on long enough, maybe time will stretch, and she won’t have to leave just yet.
The night before she leaves, you find her sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the duffel bag that’s only half-packed. Her shoulders are slumped, her usual easy confidence replaced by something softer, quieter. You step closer, leaning against the doorframe, watching her for a moment. She doesn’t notice you at first, too lost in thought.
“Hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
Paige turns, her blue eyes lifting to meet yours, and though she smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hey.”
You walk over, sliding into the space next to her on the bed. Without a word, you take her hand in yours, feeling the warmth of her palm against yours, the way her thumb absentmindedly traces circles on your skin.
“You’re not even packed yet,” you tease gently, trying to lighten the mood. “What happened to Paige Bueckers, always ready for anything?”
She lets out a small laugh, the sound soft and almost reluctant. “I know, I just
 I hate leaving.”
“I know,” you murmur, resting your head on her shoulder. “But it’s only a few days. You’ll be back before you know it.”
Paige nods, but you can feel the tension in her body, the way her jaw clenches ever so slightly. She’s not great at talking about it, the way leaving you behind makes her feel. She’s always been independent, fiercely so, but when it comes to you, something shifts. There’s a vulnerability in her that only you see, a softness she keeps guarded from the rest of the world.
“It’s just
” she starts, and then stops, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I don’t like being away from you.”
You tilt your head up, looking at her as her brow furrows in that way it does when she’s trying to find the right words. She’s always been better at showing you how she feels than saying it. Her love comes in the quiet moments, in the way she slips an arm around your waist when you’re making coffee, or how she sneaks kisses against your temple when you’re focused on something else. But now, she’s trying to put it into words, and you can see how much it’s weighing on her.
“I know it’s my job,” Paige continues, her voice a little rougher, “and I love playing, I really do. But I hate leaving you here. Every time I’m on the road, I just
 I don’t know. It’s like a part of me is missing.”
Her words hang in the air for a moment, and you squeeze her hand a little tighter. “I miss you too,” you say quietly, because it’s true. Every time she’s away, the apartment feels a little emptier, quieter. You find yourself glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until she’s back, until you can hear her laugh in person again, see the way her eyes light up when she talks about her game.
“But,” you add, nudging her lightly, “you know I’m always watching, right? Every single game, I’m right there, cheering you on.”
Paige’s expression softens at that, the corners of her lips turning up just slightly. “Yeah, I know. I always try to play my best ‘cause I know you’re watching.” She lets out a breath, her shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s weird, but even when I’m on the court, I think about you. Like, I can’t wait to get back and tell you everything. How the game went, the plays we ran
 I don’t know. I just always want to talk to you after.”
You smile, warmth blooming in your chest. You can picture it so clearly—Paige out there, focused and driven, pushing herself to her limits not just for the love of the game, but because she knows you’re at home, glued to the screen, living every moment with her.
“That’s because I’m your biggest fan,” you say, leaning up to kiss her cheek.
She finally grins, that familiar Paige smile that lights up her whole face. “You’re biased.”
“Maybe,” you admit, laughing softly. “But it’s true. You’re amazing, Paige. And I’ll always be here, waiting for you when you get back.”
Paige shifts so she can wrap her arms around you, pulling you close until you’re resting against her chest. You feel her chin rest on top of your head, the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear. She holds you like she never wants to let go, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The world outside the two of you falls away, and all that’s left is this—the warmth of her body, the familiar scent of her skin, the way she makes you feel safe and loved.
Eventually, she breaks the silence, her voice soft and sincere. “I love you, you know that?”
“I know,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing absent patterns on her arm. “I love you too.”
Paige holds you a little tighter, and you stay like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s presence, as if neither of you can bear to let the moment slip away.
By the time she’s finally packed and ready to go the next morning, there’s a quiet resolve in her. You stand by the door, watching as she throws her bag over her shoulder, her posture more confident now, like she’s mentally gearing up for the game. But before she leaves, she turns to you, eyes soft, and steps close, cupping your face in her hands.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” she promises, and this time, you can tell she believes it.
You nod, leaning into her touch. “I’ll be here.”
With one last kiss, she’s gone, and the apartment feels empty without her. But even as she leaves, you know that no matter how far away she is, she’s still with you. You’ll be watching her from home, cheering her on, and when she’s back, you’ll be right here, waiting—like always.
───
The reporter steps in, microphone in hand, with the cameras rolling. Paige wipes the sweat from her brow and takes a deep breath, flashing that signature smile, the one you know so well, but there’s still that softness underneath—reserved, a little shy when the attention is focused on her, even after all these years.
"Paige, another incredible performance tonight! You led your team with 28 points, 8 assists, 4 steals—you were unstoppable out there. How do you keep finding ways to take over like this?"
Paige chuckles, her eyes flickering down for a second as if she’s still processing it all. "Uh, honestly, it’s just about staying focused. My teammates make it easy for me, and I’m just trying to do my part to help us win."
The reporter nods, grinning. "You’ve had quite the season so far, but tonight, something felt different—you were playing with so much energy. Anything in particular motivating you tonight?"
There’s a small pause, and then Paige’s smile shifts, her eyes softening in a way that’s familiar to you. The crowd noise fades in the background as she takes a moment before answering.
"Yeah, uh, there’s always one person who’s got my back no matter what," Paige says, her voice steady but full of emotion. "Even when I’m out there on the road, I know she’s at home, watching, supporting me every second. That makes all the difference." She looks directly into the camera, her smile widening.
"So this one’s for you," she continues, and your heart skips a beat. "You know who you are. Thank you for always being there for me, for believing in me—even when I’ve had doubts. You’re the reason I can go out there and play my best. Every game, every shot, I think about coming home to you. I love you."
The reporter grins, picking up on the moment. "Sounds like you’ve got quite the support system off the court as well."
Paige laughs, a little embarrassed but glowing. "Yeah, well I’m really lucky. She means everything to me."
You can feel your cheeks heat up even though Paige isn’t there with you. Hearing her say it, in front of the cameras, in front of everyone—it’s a reminder of just how deep this connection goes. You’ve always known how much you mean to her, but hearing her speak about you like this, with so much love and gratitude, makes your chest swell with pride.
The interview wraps up, and as Paige waves to the fans and heads back toward the locker room, you sit there, staring at the screen, heart full. The game may be over, but the way Paige looks at you, even from a distance, reminds you that you’re always with her—on the court, off the court, and everywhere in between.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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elryuse · 19 days ago
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Post Ceremony Awards
Giselle X Male Reader
Tags : Idol Girlfriend, Kissing, Cowgirl, Lots and lots of Sex, Temptation
Words : 3,2k
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This is a Commission for My Friend @dav1233555 on Tumblr. Hope you liked it buddy.
The soft hum of the city outside was drowned out by the faint sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. Giselle’s delicate yet hurried footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as she approached the door, her heart racing with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The award show had been a whirlwind—flashing cameras, blinding lights, and the constant pressure to smile even when her feet felt like they were about to give out. But now, all she wanted was him.
Y/N.
Her safe haven. Her escape from the chaos of being an idol. She fumbled with the keys for a moment, her hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Finally, the door clicked open, and she stepped inside, greeted by the warm, dim lighting of their shared apartment.
“Y/N?” she called out softly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness as she kicked off her heels and let them clatter to the floor. There was no immediate response, just the faint sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. A smile tugged at her lips as she padded toward the source of the noise, her hips swaying ever so slightly in her form-fitting dress.
There he was, standing by the stove, his back turned to her as he stirred something that smelled absolutely divine. His broad shoulders relaxed under the casual shirt he wore, and Giselle couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, even in such a simple moment. She leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched him, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Did you miss me?” she purred, her voice dripping with teasing affection.
Y/N turned around, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. “Of course I did,” he said, setting the spoon down and wiping his hands on a towel. “How was the show? You look
 stunning, as always.”
Giselle smirked, stepping closer until she was just inches away from him. “It was exhausting,” she admitted, her fingers lightly trailing down his chest. “But seeing you makes it all worth it.”
His breath hitched as her touch sent a shiver through him. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the intoxicating scent of her perfume enveloping him. Before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and passionate. Y/N’s hands instinctively found her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together, exploring every inch of each other’s mouths.
Giselle moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. The fabric of her dress felt too constricting, too much of a barrier between them. She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “I need you. Now.”
Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the living room. He carefully set her down on the couch, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to undress her, peeling away the layers of designer fabric until she was left in nothing but her lingerie. His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her, his hands trembling slightly as he traced the curves of her body.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.
Giselle’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, but she didn’t have time to respond before he leaned down to capture her lips once more. His hands roamed over her skin, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch. She arched her back as his fingers dipped beneath the lace of her panties, finding her already wet and eager for him.
“Y/N,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he teased her sensitive folds. “Please
”
He didn’t make her beg for long. With a growl of approval, he stripped off his own clothes, his erection springing free as he positioned himself between her thighs. Giselle reached down to guide him inside her, her breath hitching as he slid into her warmth, filling her completely.
They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies melding as if they were made for each other. Giselle’s head fell back against the couch as Y/N’s thrusts grew more frantic, each one sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, harder.
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moaned, her voice breaking as the pressure built inside her. “Don’t stop
 please don’t stop
”
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he chased his own release. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, mingling with their muffled cries of pleasure. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, they both came undone, collapsing into each other’s arms as the world around them faded away.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in sync. Giselle nuzzled against Y/N’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin as she basked in the afterglow.
“Let’s stay like this forever,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Y/N chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as you want, princess.”
But just as they were beginning to drift off, the sound of the front door opening jolted them awake. Giselle’s eyes widened as she realized what time it was—the rest of the members must have come home.
“Shit,” she hissed, scrambling to grab her dress and pull it back on. Y/N quickly followed suit, throwing on his clothes just as Karina, Winter, and Ningning walked into the living room.
Their eyes immediately zeroed in on the disheveled state of the couch—and the unmistakable flush on Giselle’s cheeks.
“What were you two doing?” Winter asked, her tone laced with amusement as she raised an eyebrow.
Giselle laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. “Nothing! Just
 catching up after the show.”
Karina and Ningning exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it, but they didn’t push further. Instead, they plopped down on the other side of the couch, stealing bites of the food Y/N had prepared earlier.
As they ate and chatted, Giselle leaned back against Y/N’s chest, feeling more content than she had in weeks. Despite the chaos of her life, moments like this made everything worth it.
But deep down, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not even close.
And as she glanced up at Y/N, a sly smile playing on her lips, she wondered just how far they could take things

Giselle’s fingers traced lazy circles on Y/N’s thigh under the table as the other members chatted animatedly about the award show. Winter was recounting a particularly funny moment backstage, her laughter echoing through the room, while Karina and Ningning were fully immersed in their video game, controllers clicking furiously.
But Giselle couldn’t focus on any of it. Her mind was still replaying the way Y/N had touched her earlier, the way his hands had lingered on her skin, possessive yet tender. She glanced at him from under her lashes, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.
He knew exactly what she wanted.
“Hey,” she whispered, leaning closer to him, her breath warm against his ear. “I think I left something upstairs
 come help me find it?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly catching her drift. He glanced around the room—the girls were too preoccupied to notice anything amiss. Without a word, he nodded, standing up casually.
“Be right back,” he said, though no one was really paying attention.
Giselle followed him up the stairs, her heels clicking softly against the wooden steps. The moment they reached the hallway, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them.
The air between them crackled with tension as she turned to face him, her back pressed against the door. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
“You owe me,” she murmured, her voice dripping with promise. “From earlier.”
Y/N didn’t need any more encouragement. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in one swift motion. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate, filled with all the pent-up frustration they’d been holding back downstairs.
Giselle moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and it sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.
“Fuck me,” she breathed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving. “Right now.”
Y/N didn’t hesitate. He spun her around, pinning her against the door as his hands slid down her body, gripping her hips tightly. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that made her gasp.
“Quiet,” he warned, his voice low and rough. “Unless you want them to hear.”
Giselle bit her lip, nodding as she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her dress. It fell to the floor in a pool of silk, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie. Y/N’s eyes raked over her body, and she could see the hunger in his gaze.
“Take it off,” she demanded, her voice trembling with anticipation.
He obeyed, his hands trembling slightly as he unhooked her bra and slipped off her panties. She stepped out of them, completely bare before him, and the look in his eyes made her shiver.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands roaming over her curves, savoring every inch of her.
Giselle reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle as impatience gnawed at her. She needed him inside her, now. When she finally freed him from his pants, she gasped at the size of him, her body already aching with need.
“Hurry,” she whispered, turning around and bracing herself against the door.
Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. He lined himself up with her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly, letting her adjust to him. Giselle’s nails dug into the wood of the door as she let out a stifled moan, her body trembling with pleasure.
“Don’t hold back,” she breathed, pushing back against him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Y/N gripped her hips tighter, thrusting into her with a force that made her cry out. Each movement was deep, deliberate, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder, more unrestrained.
“Shh,” he reminded her, though his own breathing was ragged, his self-control slipping.
But Giselle couldn’t help it. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through her body. She bit down on her hand to muffle her cries, but they still escaped, soft and breathy, filling the room.
Downstairs, Karina paused mid-game, glancing up at the ceiling. “Do you guys hear that?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
Ningning tilted her head, listening. “Sounds like
 I don’t know. A cat or something?”
Winter snorted. “In this apartment? Doubt it.”
Karina shrugged, returning to the game. “Probably just the neighbors.”
Upstairs, Giselle was far past caring. She rocked back against Y/N, matching his rhythm as their bodies moved together in perfect sync. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their gasps and moans.
“Harder,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
Y/N obliged, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back as his lips found her shoulder, biting down lightly. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she arched her back, pushing herself further onto him.
“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice strained.
Giselle smiled to herself, reveling in the way he was falling apart for her. She reached back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she guided him closer, urging him on.
“I’m close,” she whispered, her walls tightening around him. “So close
”
Y/N kissed her neck, his breathing uneven. “Come for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.
And she did. Pleasure ripped through her body like a tidal wave, her vision going white as she cried out, muffling the sound in her hand. Y/N wasn’t far behind, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside her, spilling himself with a groan.
For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, both trembling from the intensity of it all. Then Y/N pulled away slowly, helping her turn around to face him.
Giselle looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from kissing. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as she smiled.
“You’re amazing,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Y/N chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
They stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow, until the sound of laughter from downstairs brought them back to reality.
“We should probably get dressed,” Y/N said reluctantly, though his hands still lingered on her waist.
Giselle pouted playfully. “Do we have to?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Unless you want to explain why we’re naked when they inevitably come looking for us.”
She sighed, stepping away from him to retrieve her dress. As they got dressed, she couldn’t help but glance at him, a sly smile playing on her lips.
“You know,” she said, smoothing out her dress, “we could always sneak back up here later
”
Y/N smirked, pulling her into his arms once more. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Giselle giggled, leaning up to kiss him again. “Maybe.”
The soft hum of conversation and clinking silverware filled the apartment as the group gathered around the dining table. Y/N had outdone himself with the meal—sizzling bulgogi, steaming kimchi jjigae, and perfectly seasoned japchae adorned the table. The aroma wafted through the air, mingling with the lingering tension that seemed to hang just beneath the surface. Giselle sat close to Y/N, her fingers occasionally brushing his under the table, a secret smile playing on her lips whenever their eyes met.
Karina was the first to break the casual chatter. She leaned forward, her chopsticks hovering over her plate, her sharp gaze darting between Giselle and Y/N. “So
 how long have you two been sneaking around?” she asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion.
Giselle froze mid-bite, her eyes widening for a split second before she recovered, her lips curling into an amused smirk. She set her chopsticks down deliberately, leaning back in her chair. “Sneaking around? Who said anything about sneaking?”
Winter snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Giselle. We’re not blind. You’ve been glowing like a neon sign since we got home. And don’t think we didn’t notice how long it took you two to ‘help clean up’ earlier.”
Ningning giggled into her hand, clearly enjoying the sudden shift in the room’s energy. “Yeah, and let’s not forget the very loud thud against the bedroom door. What were you doing, redecorating?”
Y/N felt his cheeks burn, but Giselle remained unfazed. She tilted her head, her expression turning almost predatory as she glanced at the others. “Well, if you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind sharing
 details,” she purred, her voice dripping with mischief.
The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Karina’s jaw dropped slightly, while Winter’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. Ningning choked on her sip of water, coughing loudly as she tried to regain her composure.
“Sharing?” Karina finally managed, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “You mean
 you’d actually
 share him?”
Giselle shrugged lazily, reaching for her glass of wine. “I mean, if the offer’s tempting enough, I might consider it.” She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Karina’s. “But let’s be real—you’d have to give me a damn good reason. And maybe throw in a bet or two. I’m not giving him away for free.”
Y/N nearly choked on his food, coughing loudly as he tried to process what he’d just heard. He turned to Giselle, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh
 excuse me? Am I a prize now?”
She reached over, patting his cheek affectionately. “Of course not, baby. You’re my prize. But if they want a taste
” She trailed off, her grin widening as she looked back at the others. “Well, let’s just say they’ll have to work for it.”
Winter leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze locked on Giselle. “What kind of bet are we talking about here?”
Giselle tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm
 how about this? Whoever wins the next round of whatever game we decide gets to spend some
 quality time with Y/N. Nothing too crazy, of course. Just enough to make it interesting.”
Ningning let out a squeak, her face turning bright red. “Giselle! You can’t be serious!”
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Giselle replied, her tone unwavering. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “But hey, if you’re not up for it, no hard feelings. More for me.”
Karina’s eyes narrowed, a competitive glint flashing in them. “Fine. Let’s do it. Winner takes all.”
Winter smirked, nodding in agreement. “You’re on. But don’t cry when I win.”
Ningning hesitated for a moment before raising her hand tentatively. “Um
 can I sit this one out? This feels
 weird.”
Giselle chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. You’re in this now, Ning. No backing out.”
Y/N stared at the scene unfolding before him, feeling both flustered and oddly intrigued. He cleared his throat, trying to interject. “Uh, shouldn’t I have a say in this?”
All four pairs of eyes turned to him, and Giselle grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll love it. Trust me.”
Before he could respond, Karina stood up, slamming her hands on the table. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s play. But I’m warning you, Giselle—I’m not losing.”
Giselle’s grin widened, her confidence unshaken. “We’ll see about that.”
The group quickly cleared the table, moving to the living room where they decided on a game of truth or dare—with a twist. Each dare would be designed to push boundaries, and every truth would dig deep into secrets none of them had dared to share before.
As the game began, the tension in the room grew thicker, the air electric with anticipation. Y/N found himself caught in the middle, his heart racing as he watched the girls strategize and flirt openly, their competitive sides taking over.
When it was Winter’s turn, she spun the bottle, and it landed squarely on Y/N. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned forward. “Truth or dare?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.
Y/N swallowed hard, glancing at Giselle, who simply raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to choose. “Uh
 dare?”
Winter’s smile widened. “Good choice. I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in this room
 besides Giselle.”
The room went silent, and Y/N’s eyes darted between Karina, Winter, and Ningning, his pulse quickening. He could feel Giselle’s gaze on him, watching intently, waiting to see how he’d handle the situation.
He took a deep breath, his mind racing. The stakes were high, and the tension was palpable. As he moved closer to make his choice, the sound of Giselle’s voice cut through the silence, smooth and commanding.
“Careful, Y/N. Choose wisely
”
- To Be Continued -
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megameatymatt · 26 days ago
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Pretty Baby - Billie Eilish
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“TMI, but self-pleasure is an enormous, enormous part of my life, and a huge, huge help for me. People should be jerking it, man"
Credits to @prttyribbons for the divider đŸ–€
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Summary: Billie reminds you how pretty you are by touching you in front of a mirror
A/N: idk why this took so long for me to write cuz its nothing special btw tysm for all the love on my last fic i really appreciate it!!!! love you guys ok bye!đŸ–€
CW: SMUT, insecurity, edging, fingering, Dom!billie. fem!reader, excessive use of the word pretty
word count: 813
Billie: purple
Y/n: Pink
You stand in front of your bed, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you try on yet another outfit. You've always had some insecurities about your body, but today, it feels like it's all you can focus on. You and Billie were supposed to go out today, but after two hours of searching for something to wear, you still can't find an outfit that hides the parts of yourself you wish weren't so visible.
After trying on what feels like the 100th outfit, tears fall. "Whats wrong with me, why can't i be pretty?" You whisper, eyes scanning your reflection in the mirror. After some time Billie walks in and sees you crying. "What's wrong babe? You alright"
You wipe your eyes quickly, but your voice cracks when you answer. "I just
 I can't find anything that looks right. I feel—" you pause, the words hard to form, "—I feel like i'm not good enough."
Billie steps closer, gently pulling you into her arms. "But you are good enough, more than good enough." She pulls back and cups your face. "In so many different ways" she says with a smirk, her eyes glued to yours.
She spins you around, making you face the mirror. "in fact, i could name a lot i like about you." She says, hands snaking around your waist. "Bil-" you start, a hesitant smile tugging at your lips. Billie leans in, her breath warm against your ear. "But you're gonna have to take this off for me first." She whispers, tugging on the straps of your black dress.
Without thinking, you pull the straps down, feeling the fabric slide off your shoulders. Billie’s eyes follow the motion, her gaze soft and full of admiration. She lowers her hand, resting it lightly on your thigh as she kisses your neck and for a moment, the weight of your insecurities feel miles away.
Your pulse quickens, the intimacy of the moment replacing the self-doubt. "Bils..." you whisper.
She unclips your bra, leaving it on the floor, "I love these," she says as she squeezes your bare tits. she slides down your panties leaving yu completely exposed. "Fuck, you can talk all the shit you want about yourself but you drive me crazy"
She squeezes and traces your thigh as you sit on her lap. "Look at you, baby, you're fucking gorgeous" You look yourself in the mirror, Billie is completely infatuated with you. Maybe I am good enough, you think, a smile landing on your face. "Spread for me, mama." You do as you are told, and spread your legs, causing whimpers to escape your throat.
She takes her finger and swipes from down up, "So wet baby, you're so pretty" She takes her two fingers and begins to rub your clit. "Billie," you moan, reaching down for her hand. "uh-uh Y/N, just keep looking in the mirror, pretty girl." she takes her other hand and lifts your chin to make sure your eyes stay fixed on yourself.
without warning she slides both fingers inside you. "Fuck!" you cry out, your back arching as Billie's fingers plunge deep inside you. "you're so tight, baby," she says, thrusting her fingers in and out at a punishing pace. Your eyes flutter closed, but Billie insists you keep them open, watching your own reflection as she finger-fucks you senseless. 
"You're so beautiful", she breathes, her free hand cupping your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple until it's hard and aching.
"Your pussy is so fucking good when it's wet for me. Isn't it, pretty girl?" she says, breathless. She slides a third finger in, watching your face for a reaction." Say it, baby. Tell me how pretty you are."  Billie demands, her voice urgent. You can barely speak, your need for release building with each stroke."Billie.." you plead. "Do it, or i'll stop right now"
You whine as she slows down her pace. You thrust your needy hips against her fingers, making her pull them out. "say it" she says a lot more stern than before. you hiss, your need for release almost painful.  "Fuck- i- I'm pretty"  you manage, your voice strained. "I'm so pretty"  Billie's eyes blaze with hunger as she watches you through the mirror.
"And you better fucking believe it" she growls, her fingers digging into your hips. "Now come on, baby. Show me how pretty you get when you cum for me." Billie commands, her voice dripping with lust. She slides her fingers back in and continues to fuck you.
"Billie, I'm going to— I'm gonna—" "Come for me baby, let it all out", Billie encourages, fingering you harder, faster, pushing you closer to the edge. "Oh fuck- my god, bils' You throw your head back, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Billie smirks as she watches you in the mirror, "that's it, so pretty, baby"
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wosohours · 3 months ago
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not close enough - alexia putellas x reader
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word count: 1854
“Alexia, I told you that I wouldn’t be able to hang out today because I needed to focus on my work,” you say in a serious tone toward the blonde standing in your doorway.
“I know that mi amor but I missed you so much. I feel like we haven’t been spending much time together because of our schedules,” Alexia gives you a cute pout as she raises two bags, “but look I brought you food and snacks and these pretty flowers you like.”
Biting back a smile you stand to the side signaling that she can come in. You knew that if you did not let her in now she would find her own way in, whether that be crawling through your window, again, or calling your mother who would convince you to let her in.
“Thank you. I appreciate it, baby,” you tell her as she speeds past you towards your kitchen.
“I just want to take care of my girl, bebĂ©. I don’t like it when you work too much and stress yourself out,” she states while grabbing your waist to pull you into a tight hug.
“I only work so much so that I have more free time to spend with you, and also money to spoil you. You deserve to be catered to as well.”
Alexia can’t help but smile at your words as she kisses your neck. “While I really appreciate that amor, you know that just being in your company is more than enough for me.”
“I’m glad that you feel that way but I still have to work, these bills aren’t gonna pay themselves,” you tell her as you tickle the sides of her stomach, making her giggle and release you from her tight grip.
“Move in with me and I’ll pay your bills,” Alexia states. “We’ll talk about that later, but I’m not letting you pay my bills,” you roll your eyes as you open one of the food boxes she brought which was filled with some of your favorite pastries.
“We’ll see,” she shrugs, coming up behind you to take a bite of one of the pastries already in your hand.
____________________
“Thank you for breakfast, but I really need to get back to work. I have two more meetings today and then I’m all yours,” you tell your girlfriend as you pick up her plate to bring to the sink.
“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” she says, grabbing the dishes from your hand so she can wash them. “I’ll be fine, but if you really want to stay you can watch TV in my room or the living room,” you tell not really paying attention to her as you grab your computer and headphones.
“I’ll be in my office if you need anything just text me, okay?” you tell her while blowing her a kiss from the door of your office. As you are closing the door you catch her pretending to grab the kiss from the air and place it on her heart.
____________________
Though your relationship is not even a year old Alexia can’t help but be absolutely obsessed with you. She always wants to be around you, always thinking of you, and everything she sees and does can all be traced back to you.
This feeling was so new and different to Alexia that it scared her so much that she called her mother panicking. Of course, Eli calmed her down and gave her reassurance that this was a good feeling but told her if it bothered her that much then she should talk to you about it and take it slow.
A couple of days later when Alexia sat you down and told you how she felt she was relieved to know that you felt the same way and that you were more than happy to continue the relationship at whatever pace she needed.
It turned out that Alexia did not need to go as slow as she thought. Soon after your talk she was bringing you over to meet her mother and sister and hinting at you moving in with her, but you kind of talked her out of the latter, at least for now.
You two have been nothing but in love and happy and that is all Alexia could ask for.
____________________
After about an hour of laying around your living room and tidying up things here and there, Alexia gets bored and decides to go into your room. She flops on your bed on what she has claimed ‘her side’ and lays there in silence, basking in the atmosphere of your space.
The smell of your perfume she loves so much lingers in the air making her take deep breaths. As she turns over to your side she can smell the scent of the new shampoo you are trying out in your pillow making her smile.
She looks at your nightstand to see a framed picture of you two. The same one she has at home on her nightstand. As she reaches over to grab it she notices that you have one of her captain’s armbands. Alexia laughs at the thought of you stealing it from her bag. She holds it up to take a selfie and sends it to you.
To: Mi Reina 💕
“You are a little thief.”
*sent attachment*
Alexia gets up from the bed and into your walk-in closet. She can’t help but smile at the two different spots you have cleared out, one being a drawer for her clothes, and the other being her jerseys that you have bought or ones that she has given you.
From: Mi Reina 💕
“technically I didn’t steal it. i remember being told ‘take it off of me.’🙃”
After reading your message Alexia closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a deep sigh as she remembered that intense intimate night after the Champions League Final game.
Shaking her head out of thought she sends a reply back.
To: Mi Reina 💕
“Get back to work.”
From: Mi Reina 💕
“😭sorry baby. i was just getting the facts straight.”
Alexia rolls her eyes and smiles, putting her phone in her pocket before going back to look around your closet.
She reaches up to take your favorite hoodie off the hanger and brings it up to her nose, inhaling more of your perfume. Even though she is at your house, in your room, and you are on the other side of the wall she still can’t help but feel you aren’t close enough, so she strips off her FC Barcelona Nike jacket and tugs your hoodie over her head.
Ale lays down in your bed once again, this time on your side, and when she realizes that you aren’t going to be done with work any time soon she decides to just take a nap.
____________________
After both of your meetings, you get up from your desk to stretch and check on Alexia. You walk past the kitchen and living room when you notice she isn’t there and go straight towards your room.
When you open the door you see Alexia sleeping peacefully on her stomach with her face shoved into your pillow.
“Hey baby,” you whisper quietly, as you gently rub her back coaxing her out of her nap. Her eyes flutter open and she gives you a sleepy smile. “Are you done with work?” she whispers.
“No, I am done with my meeting though and I’m taking a break. Do you want to make some lunch?” you ask her.
Alexia nods her head as she sits up and stretches, letting out a small yawn.
“I see you stole my hoodie, who’s the thief now?” you tease, making her let out a little laugh.
You grab her hand and pull her out of the room towards the kitchen where you pull out ingredients to make sandwiches.
Alexia sits at the kitchen bar where she watches you with a loving gaze. When you are done making the sandwiches you pass Alexia her plate and a water bottle.
“Are you done with work?” she asks before taking a bite. “No, I still have emails to answer but I can probably get through those quickly,” you answer.
“Can you answer them on the couch and I sit with you?” she asks.
“I could, but you might be a little distracting,” you smirk at her as you take another bite.
“I am not distracting,” she pouts, crossing her arms which makes you laugh. “You can be sometimes, but it’s not always a bad thing. I like that you always want to be around me.”
“I just love you very much. Since we met, I have always wanted to be around you,” she tells you in an almost shy tone.
You walk around the bar to turn her chair so that you can stand in between her legs. Putting your hands on her cheeks you tell her, “You’re such a lover girl. I love you so much.” She leans in and pecks your lips multiple times.
“Go sit on the couch I am going to go grab my computer and I’ll meet you there,” you tell her pulling away.
____________________
“Alexia I cannot sit in your lap and do my work,” you tell her trying to pull away.
“And why not?” she asks.
“Because I said so,” you finally get free from her and sit on the other edge of the couch where you stretch your legs out and set your computer on your lap.
“Put a match on the TV or your ‘Love is Blind’ show,” you tease her knowing that she doesn't want to admit to liking that sort of show.
“I do not like ‘Love is Blind’ Don’t tell anyone that,’ she demands like she has been caught doing something wrong.
You can’t help but let out a loud laugh at the panicked expression on her face. “Oh really? I’ve caught you watching it multiple times, and did you forget we share a Netflix account? I can see everything that you watch.”
She lets out a puff of air and you can hear her mumble a ‘whatever.’
“You literally like to tell me all the red flags you see in these people. It’s okay baby, you know I’m not one to judge,” you say, raising your hands in a ‘surrender’ position.
Lifting your computer off your lap you motion for her to come lay between her legs. Alexia immediately replaces her pout with a big smile as she moves to lay her head on your stomach. “Is this close enough for you baby?” you ask her.
“It’s okay for now, I wish I could be in your skin,” she replies.
“Um. Okay,” you whisper to yourself a little stunned.
Still needing to work you place your computer on her back like a little table.
“Let me know if it gets too hot on your back,” you tell her as you kiss her head.
Alexia nods her head as she grabs the remote to turn on the TV
to ‘Love is Blind.’
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nighttimealone · 4 months ago
Text
Cw: Nsfw (poly 141 x afab!reader, female pronouns)
Calling this anon, HBD and I hope you enjoy this.
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“Woke you up, sweetheart?”
Your eyes flutter open when you feel a hand caressing your face briefly, the sunlight seep through the seam of the curtain, basking the bedroom in a scrim of orange as your mind process who’s beside you when you meet a pair of tender brown eyes.
“Kyle
” Stretching out your limbs then roll out from underneath the duvet, you rest your head on his lap before answering him “Not really, was about to get up after all.”
A click from the door turns both of your attentions towards the direction, the door’s not even open fully, but Johnny’s voice pops up from behind already.
“Who got the lassie out of her beauty sleep already?” He closes the door behind, and the mattress dips when he joins you and Kyle on the bed. “Ye know you can nap a bit more, eh? A perk of being a birthday girl.”
“Before Simon and John come back from picking up the cake?” You snicker when Johnny’s eyes widens a bit at your words, but a scoff of laughter quickly replaces the surprise, follow with Kyle’s chuckles ringing from the top of you.
“Already said that she’ll find out one day, Soap.” He reaches his arms out again, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
“Not that hard to figure it out when you both started convincing me to have a nap every year around afternoon?”
“aye,” another pair of hands tracing circles on your calf, and you shift your gaze to meet Johnny’s again. “Forgot about we got a smart one for us.”
A shudder leaves you when Kyle gently maneuvers you to sit up, your head rest against his chest while Johnny scoots closer to you on the bed, and you huff out a laughter, feeling Kyle’s warmth seeping through his shirt with Johnny’s breath fanning on the nape of your neck. “So this is why they’re the one getting the birthday cake, and you two are the one staying home with me?”
“We’re more entertaining than those old men.” Kyle eyes meets Johnny’s for a brief moment, as if seeking his approval. Yet nothing speaks louder than Johnny’s hand traveling upwards, stopping at your inner thighs and palming the supple flesh in a sensual manner.
Your hazy mind’s clouded with pleasure, Johnny’s face burying between your legs, lapping like a starving dog through your wet folds, make sure every spots are taken care of and changes between sucking the swollen nub and teasing your entrance with little swirl of the tip of his tongue. He groans obscenely whenever you squeeze your thighs around his head, chasing each drop of your essence with the same passion of a bloodhound, no way he’s going to waste any drop of those precious juices. Leaning back on Kyle’s body, his hands slipping past the hem of your shirt, his lips pressing against yours hungrily, drinking all your moans elicited by his fingers flicking and pinching your hardened nipples down with his tongue leading you in a deep kiss. It’s until your back arch upwards, thighs trembling and riding through your orgasm with Johnny’s lips giving little sucklings to your twitching clit, resting your cheeks on Kyle’s shoulder and recovering from the release, that you finally notice the two hulking forms lurking at the open bedroom door.
“Told you muppets to keep her entertained, not wearing her out before she has her birthday cake.” John chides them with his gruff voice, but the amusement in his tone is obvious, not to say the smirk on his lips when you look at him with glazed eyes.
“ 'm just having my cake first” Giving a peck to your pussy lips, Johnny unabashedly smirks back to the captain.
“You’re not even the one whose birthday’s today, Johnny.” Simon sets down the cake on the nightstand, rolling his eyes before looking down at you, gaze soften a bit at the view of your blissed out face. “But the princess looks happy enough, guess Gaz and you had take good care of her, huh?”
“Can always count on us, Ghost.” You hum softly as agreement to Kyle words, which gets a snort from Simon, but he sure does approve his statement.
You eyes land on the cake, exquisite decorations with just your favorite flavor, they always spoil you even more when it’s your birthday, from refusing you to do any chores and ushering you to lounging around in the house, to gifts and cake that always make you confuse how these hotheads know that you’ve been storing those products in your basket for months but always close the app after staring at the ‘buy’ button and hesitating whether you should buy them or not.
“Thank you.” Your eyes shift from the cake and the presents, to meet each of theirs. Each of them distinct, convey their love to you in their own unique fashion, yet share the same affection and devotion to you.
“Does the birthday girl want her cake first
” John scoops a bit of the whipped cream from the cake, letting you have a taste of the creamy sweetness, then his chest rumbles with laughter when he spots the eagerness in your eyes, thumb slide past your lips and allow you to lick the cream clean from it. “Or she wants her ‘birthday gift’ from us first?”
You’re suddenly aware of how they surrounded you in a circle, John sitting in front of you between your spread thighs, his bulge restrained by his trousers nudging your puffy pussy—still wet from Johnny eating you out and you’re sure it’s dripping juices and staining the bedsheets now, body heating with desires of all your men drowning you in their scents— and Kyle’s cock already poking at the fat of your ass, his arms circling around your waist as he waits for your response.
“Doubt she’s able to enjoy the cake when she just wants us now.” Ghost tilts your head, tossing his gloves aside before sneaking a kiss from your lips, tasting the remnants of the whipped cream from devouring you in a prolonged kiss. You don’t have to give his crotch a glance to know he’s probably rock-hard too from watching your little show earlier.
“Cannae wait to get yer pretty cunny filled with our cum, eh?” and Johnny
the shameless bastard’s already stroking his dick through his sweat pants while teasing you.
“Well
Can’t say you’re wrong
” Giggling at them, you admit your wish without hesitation, before getting pulled into a kiss again, relaxing entirely under their touches and indulging in all four men’s pampering.
Because birthday girl deserves all the attention from her lovers, yeah?
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some-bunniii · 1 year ago
Text
Lucifer confessing to an artist reader
ăƒ»â„ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!
warnings: Mild swearing
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“Mreow?” 
You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.
“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.
“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.
A high-pitched chirp answered your question.
Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room. 
You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.
Now where was that furball? 
You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call. 
“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.
You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place. 
You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent. 
As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you. 
You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep. 
Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.
It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips. 
Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated. 
Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky. 
“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.” 
He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand. 
You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath. 
“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.
After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks. 
Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.
“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”
You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape. 
“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”
You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine. 
That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.
The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.
Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough. 
Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.
Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold. 
Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it. 
Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.
Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet. 
‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’
He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.
Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.
“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.
He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”
“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.
“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”
That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.
But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying. 
It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.
Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.
The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.
Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV. 
What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting? 
You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.
Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care? 
Your love? 
He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore. 
There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move. 
‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’
Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose. 
Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him. 
‘Soon’, you promised.
The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss. 
A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.
Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day. 
“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room. 
She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.
Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.
“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.
You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.
“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.
 “Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh. 
“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.” 
Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch. 
They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.
“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean. 
“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.” 
Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.
His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.
“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!” 
He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop. 
Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles. 
“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?” 
“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”
A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.
“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject. 
Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.
“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”
“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.” 
“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”
You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?
It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?
Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.
He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you. 
Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.
“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.” 
Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to? 
“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”
Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.
“Well.. I don’t know if-”
“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you. 
Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.
You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised. 
You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder. 
You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.
Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.
“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm. 
“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though. 
“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”
“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded. 
“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.” 
He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him. 
“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.
Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure. 
Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?
Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.
Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.
“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to
think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.” 
“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question. 
“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”
Admiration? 
Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.
“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”
“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”
You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.
“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”
Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination. 
“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”
“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”
Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.
“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?” 
Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.
“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”
“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.
Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.
He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly. 
It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage. 
“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.
Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red. 
You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you. 
“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.” 
“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?” 
You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”
“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”
You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?
“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”
“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”
What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to? 
“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.
He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers. 
Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.
Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.
He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you. 
“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.
You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.
Where were you now?! 
You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs. 
“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer. 
Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.
It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.
He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.
It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.
Did he learn it
 just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?
It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.
And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it. 
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.
“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.
He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his. 
Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.
This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.
You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.
Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you. 
Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this
time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.
Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?
Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.
“Lucifer, what are you
” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.
With treasures untold and riches divine,
I offer you the world, to make you mine.
His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.
I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,
Mountains of riches, for you to behold,
Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,
With every breath, with every sigh,
I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.
His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.
You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response. 
In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man. 
Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more. 
I don’t want your magic,
I don’t want your gold,
I want your eyes on me,
Until we grow old, 
The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals. 
His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before. 
A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.
You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful. 
Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.
Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.
For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.
Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.
Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him.  Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.
Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.
Your caring touch abundantly clear,
It’s all i’ve ever known,
With you my dear, 
I surely fear,
My heart will never be my own.
As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch. 
Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled. 
With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.
“Darling, I-”
Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.
You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.
His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell. 
Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms. 
He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely. 
His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.
You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.
“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.
Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.
You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.
Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.
“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.
“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.
“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”
“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.” 
His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.
“Go.”
“Fine.” 
You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly. 
You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”
He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground. 
A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.
“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away. 
“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby. 
“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”
Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.
“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”
He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation. 
“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”
He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.
“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.
You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.
Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise. 
“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.
Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.
“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”
You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips. 
KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.
“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.” 
Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.
——
a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?
tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox
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chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise · 8 months ago
Text
clingy
Rafe Cameron x reader
(REQUEST): Hey. I just came across your tumblr and I lovedddd the Billy Hargrove x platonic sister reader it was sooo cute yet so Billy coded 😭. I was just wondering if you would write a Rafe x romantic gf reader based upon something along the lines of that they are at a party and Rafe despite being around his friends Topper and Kelce, he's just low key paying attention to the reader. A lil bit of separation anxiety if you catch my drift. Hope this request isn't too much trouble for you to write 😭😭😭
warning(s): sexually suggestive content!
a/n: i'm so glad you liked my billy snippet! your support means the world darling, and fulfilling your request is no trouble at all. i just hope that i did it justice.
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Y/N hadn’t expected this from Rafe.
After all, Rafe Cameron was hardly the type to be so obvious. Y/N knew from experience that he preferred to keep things to himself, shielding his emotions from potentially prying eyes. He wouldn’t dare be caught in such a vulnerable position, yearning for his girl despite her standing only a few feet away from him.
However, that didn’t seem to stop him tonight as he watched Y/N from across the room, his eyes tracing her swaying hips as she threw her head back in drunken delight. Even in her state of intoxication, Y/N had felt Rafe’s eyes on her ever since they’d arrived at one of Topper’s infamous ragers. He’d long abandoned his conversation with Top and Kelce in favour of taking her in between shots of hard liquor, his fingers itching to find the small of Y/N’s back.
“Yo, you good man?” Kelce smiled, patting him jovially on his shoulder. Rafe turned to meet his friend's eyes, heat rising to his cheeks. He did his best to blame it on the alcohol.
"Yeah. Yeah man, 'm alright."
The words fell effortlessly from his lips, but Rafe wasn't even sure that he believed them. He wasn't used to this tightness gripping his chest, his body aching for the feeling of Y/N’s soft skin against his.
"He's fine, Kelce," Topper smirked over the rim of his drink. "Our boy here's just feelin' a little pussy-whipped. Aren't you, Cameron?"
Rafe's face hardened as the two boys laughed, his jaw clenching. "Fuck off, Top."
"Hey man!" Topper put his hands up in mock surrender, chuckling as he spoke. "No need to get all embarrassed. Just didn't know getting with Y/N would make you so soft, that's all."
Rafe gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to lose his temper. Y/N always hated when he thought with his fists and not his head, and he reckoned she wouldn't be pleased to watch him throw his best friend into the nearest wall.
Instead Rafe chose to stand with a slurred whatever, man, opting to leave Kelce and Topper behind in favour of the only person who could keep him calm.
"Hey," Y/N said softly, looking up as Rafe’s presence loomed over her shoulder. She couldn't help but smile as she felt Rafe's hands admire her figure from behind, shuddering as they found their way around her waist. Rafe pulled her close to his front, swaying with Y/N as she continued to dance on unsteady feet. "Got bored of Top already, huh?" She nodded over to where his idiotic friends were now busy offering shots to any girls unfortunate enough to cross their paths.
"Nah," Rafe said, his voice low and gravelly from the alcohol. "Just missed you, kid."
Y/N turned, resting her head on her boyfriend's chest, and Rafe brought his hand up to cup the nape of her neck. God, he'd been craving this all night. Y/N's weight against his chest, the addictive smell of her perfume—just her presence had a way of pacifying him like nothing else could.
Finally Rafe felt himself relax, his face buried in Y/N's hair.
"That so?" Y/N whispered into the sensitive skin of his neck. Rafe chuckled, using his free hand to move a few strands of hair from her face.
"What're you playin' at, hm?"
"Nothin'." He found himself lost in the sickly sweet tone of her voice, pooling like honey in his ears. "Just surprised. Didn't think the Big Bad Rafe Cameron would miss little ole me."
Y/N whimpered suddenly as Rafe's grip tightened around the back of her neck, his hair brushing against her cheek as he leant down to her height.
“Why don't we get out of here then, kid." Goosebumps broke out over Y/N’s arms as Rafe spoke, low and steady. "Let me show you just how much I missed you."
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adragonprinceswhore · 5 months ago
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Rumours
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Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife
Chapter IV: Never Going Back Again đŸŽŒ Masterlist
Summary: Aemond answers your performance of 'Dreams' by singing yet another newly composed song during rehearsal. This time, you can't contain the rage he elicits within you.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, smut, hatesex, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, P in V, choking, degradation, manhandling
Word count: 4880 A/N: Thank you always to my love Justine, @theoneeyedprince for helping me by having a look at the edited version đŸ©”
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Bringing Aemond’s old hoodie on tour feels like harbouring a shameful secret.
You’d felt weak enough when you spontaneously brought it with you when you moved out of your shared flat. And when you realised it was the only thing that could make you fall asleep any time anxiety weighed heavy on your chest.
So when you packed your suitcases to tour the Seven Kingdoms, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. But the shame of still needing it; still needing the memory of him, resulted in you storing it away somewhere no one would see it, least of all yourself. 
Until you sought it out. 
You wake up still curled on the side of the large bed, Aemond’s scent encompassing you.
How long will his smell linger on the fabric?
Soon, it’d disappear and you’d have no trace of him left. 
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You reach Winterfell the next day. Luckily, you’re allowed a small break before the next performance, leaving you some time to explore the city and rehearse with the band. 
You spend your day sightseeing in the capital of the North; grabbing coffee with Helaena and window shopping around the bustling city centre. 
Despite the quick friendship you had established after joining the band, your relationship with Helaena has become greatly strained following your separation from Aemond. 
You know she hates the tension and the fighting. She has a habit of closing off and retreating whenever she feels uncomfortable, and having two band members in an infected conflict is not something she finds easy to navigate. You still love her like a sister, and you know Aemond holds her dear as well, so you try to spare her from it all, even if your attempts aren’t always successful. 
“We’ll be late for the rehearsal if we don’t leave soon”, you tell her as she’s eyeing a pair of sparkly firefly hair clips. She nods absentmindedly in response and picks up the clips, 
“I know, I know. Let me just get these”, she answers with a smile, heading towards the register.  
Helaena pays for the newest addition to her endless collection of insect trinkets, and you leave for the venue you’ll be performing at in two days; Winterfell Arena. 
This is going to be your biggest show yet. 
When your management booked the arena you were scared of not selling enough tickets to justify such a large space. But you’d been pleasantly surprised by the interest shown in the North. The last tickets had just sold, and it would be your largest audience to date. 
Entering the arena, you’re taken aback by its sheer size. You can’t believe you’ll be performing in a place like this, and to a sold-out crowd. You’re suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of nauseating anxiety. Will you be able to give them a worthy show? 
Will you be good enough? 
The constant self doubt that plagues your mind had been easier to handle when Aemond was by your side. He’d always been your biggest supporter; chasing away all your inner demons with his reassurance. 
He always made you feel better. 
Now, you were left alone and with nothing but doubt keeping you company. You miss having someone to soothe you by your side. 
Miss having someone to confide in. 
To rely on. 
The stage’s larger than any you’d ever been on before. You try to shake the nerves taking over you, but it’s hard not to get overwhelmed by the size of the hall. It’s intimidatingly large. 
You and Helaena begin to set up and prepare for tonight’s rehearsal, and Jace, Erryk and Aemond drop in one by one to join. You’d expected the latter to have his usual gorgeous companion on his arm, but he surprises you by showing up alone, five minutes after the time you’d all agreed upon and without saying a word. 
It isn’t like him to show up late, and you can feel the stress radiating from him, though he stays quiet. 
You know he’s been working on yet another song for the new album, and today he mentioned in the group chat that he’d like to play it for you during rehearsal. 
He’d sent you the name; ‘Never Going Back Again’. 
Is it about his relationship with his grandfather?
When Aemond told Otto Hightower that he wanted to quit working for him at Oldtown Solicitors in order to fully focus on his music career, his grandfather had nearly cut all ties to him. 
In a particularly weak moment, he’d even given you a call, insinuating that you were a bad influence on his grandson,
“I let him entertain this silly band for the sake of Helaena and Aegon! I even let him do a minor in history at the university I financed. And yet, he meets you and suddenly wants to give that all up to record an album? Talk some sense into him, won’t you?” 
Aemond had been furious when you told him about the call from Otto, making it clear to his grandfather that he’d never go back to working with him or in property law. He’d been prepped and groomed since birth; the perfect heir to carry on the Hightower legacy. Not as flaky or unreliable as his older siblings. Always the dutiful son. 
Aemond moves across the stage to grab his bag, pulls out a water bottle and places a tablet on his tongue.  
You realise he must’ve been late due to the pain of his eye injury flaring up again. Despite his recent awful behaviour, you can’t help but feel bad for him. 
When you first started dating, you’d been scared of asking about his eye. Evidently, it was a sore subject, and you didn't want to pry. Eventually, he told you about the car accident he was in when he was 10. 
He’d been in the backseat of the family's car with his nephews, engaging in a petty fight. As the driver tried to de-escalate the situation in the back, he lost control of the vehicle, crashing it into a large tree by the side of the road. 
The only casualty from the crash was Aemond’s left eye. A piece of metal from the car had come loose during the crash and flung back through the window, creating a scar going from his forehead down to his cheek; robbing him of his vision and permanently causing him pain. 
When you started dating, you made sure to learn his routine and preferences, to make it easier and less unbearable for him when the nerve damage caused intense pain to shoot through his head. 
You still remember. 
He likes the room cool. He always lies on top of the duvet on his back, letting the chill air sooth his aching skin. Unless you’re there. Then he used to lie on his stomach next to you; one armed wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You’d thread your fingers through his silky hair with the softest of touches, stroking his head until the pain killers drag him into slumber. 
It had been in one of those moments that he’d first told you he loves you. 
You look over at Aemond as he makes his way towards his guitar, picking it up and experimentally playing a few chords to check the volume. 
Did he manage the pain by himself now? 
Or did he lay his head on Alys’ chest, hugging her? 
Does she run her fingers through his hair? 
Does she let them trace the outlines of the beautiful sharpness of his face? 
Over his cupid's bow, nose bridge, cheekbones?
Does he lay his head on her chest, letting the drum of her heart lull him to sleep? 
Does he allow her to come as close?
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You go through the set list, discussing the order of both your older and newer songs. 
Jace, Helaena and Erryk all praise your performance of Dreams, asking you to perform it each night moving forward. 
Helaena, standing next to her brother, leans towards him and mumbles, “Your back-up vocals really make the chorus shine”, while offering him a gentle smile. 
Aemond replies with a hum and moves to stand by one of the microphones with his guitar in hand. His usual stoic yet quietly commanding self returns when he starts to play without any explanation or introduction, fingers plucking the strings with precision. He sings, 
‘She broke down and let me in’ 
During recording, you’d briefly glanced at the words in the recording studio, huffing a laugh at his audacity. They definitely sting more on stage. Your face turns hot and you can’t decipher if it’s from humiliation or anger. Maybe both. 
He really is a dick. 
‘Made me see where I’ve been’
‘Been down one time’
‘Been down two times’ 
‘Never going back again’ 
Any sympathy you’d felt for him; any longing you’d felt for him, vanishes as he sings. Another song about you, this time in the form of the final nail in the coffin that is your marriage. 
And he had the nerve to ask you not to perform Dreams anymore? 
‘You don’t know what it means to win’
‘Come ‘round and see me again’ 
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Back at the hotel room, rage makes your entire body feel hot and restless. 
How fucking dare he? 
Never going back again? 
First, he’d sung about how you broke his heart and now, he paints you like you’re the plague; like a sickness to avoid. 
All you want to do is call Alysanne and spew out all the pent up emotions storming inside of you. 
You place your phone on the nightstand and roughly shove the charger inside, fingers tapping furiously to call Alysanne.
She doesn’t answer and you call her again. Still no answer. 
You’re so restless you can’t sit down, irritation making your skin feel hot and hands tingly. 
What if you asked him to not play the song? That’s what he’d asked of you. 
Unable to stay still, you grab your key card and shove your feet into a pair of white hotel slippers, heading down to where you know Aemond’s hotel room is. 
You reach the door and knock on it firmly while your feet shuffle from side to side impatiently. 
You're not sure what you’ll tell him, the rage inside guiding you instead of your senses. 
Aemond opens the door, face unreadable and eyebrows raised in question at your sudden visit. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of green joggers and your gaze briefly flickers down to take in his shirtless stature. 
“Really? Never going back?”, you question and move in closer. The heavy hotel door shut behind you, and suddenly it’s only the two of you, in his room. 
He neither answers nor moves, and you’re standing so close that your clothed chest bumps into his naked one. You crane your neck to look into his eyes. His stern demeanour doesn’t quite reach them, gaze softer than you’d imagined. 
Anger still guides you, and a pathetically spiteful idea prompts you to slowly kneel before him, still standing impossibly close and eyes never straying away from his.
“Not even if I do this?”
Your face is level with his crotch as you look up at him. He’s always loved this sight; you at his mercy. But not now. Now he’s at yours. 
You slowly lean forward and press your lips against the exposed skin of his torso, fleetingly kissing him right by his happy trail, just above the hem of his trousers. 
You’ve missed the soft smoothness of his flesh; a tender veil over the hard muscles hiding underneath. So contradictingly beautiful. 
Aemond stays unmoving, eyes staring at you with a scorching intensity. You know he won’t stop you. If he didn’t want this, he’d have let you know by now. 
So you press another kiss right under his navel, and feel sickly delighted by the barely-there shiver vibrating from him. 
Slowly, and with light kisses to his stomach, you reach for the hem of his joggers, letting your hands softly pull down the fabric and reveal his manhood. He’s already half hard, and you have to bite back a smile. 
Never going back again? Yeah right. 
Your eyes never leave his as your delicate kisses trail downward, towards his cock, yet never making direct contact with it. 
His face still is as impassive as always, but he’s now grown so hard his tip is leaking precum, fuelling your actions. 
You haven’t been this close to him in months and it almost feels intoxicating; his smell encircling you. 
You want to see him lose control; you need to see him lose control. Need to hear him beg for you. 
Plead for you. 
Come for you. 
You squeeze your things together at the thought, arousal making an ache drum between your legs. It’s an addictive thought; imagining him pleading for you. Begging for you. Needing you. 
You want him to want you. 
He still hasn’t moved, or said anything. You take his silence as an invitation to continue. 
Want him to want you. 
Still locking eyes, you slowly graze your lips over his skin until your mouth is by the base of his cock. You know he won’t give you the satisfaction of letting you in on what he’s feeling, but that’s alright. 
You’ll force it out of him. 
Your hand travels up his leg and moves to grip his cock, now so hard it’s aching to be touched. You work in long, firm strokes, just the way he likes. 
The staring contest continues. You know his stoic appearance is meant to frighten you, but you know him too well. You can see the cracks appearing already. 
Eager to push him further, you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue out, gently swiping it over his leaking tip to collect the glistening beads of precum. You feel the proof of his arousal on your tongue, and you see his gaze flicker down to observe it in your mouth as you unhurriedly close your mouth and swallow. 
He stays silent, but you see his jaw twitch. 
He likes it. 
Growing bolder, you move your lips back to the tip of his cock, kissing it in a far too innocent manner before wrapping your lips around him and sucking firmly.
In the briefest of moments, his eyebrows knit together and he closes his eyes.
The satisfaction you feel at his clear arousal goes straight to the thrumming between your legs, and you briefly squeeze your thighs together. You move your mouth lower, placing feather-light kisses down his length before gently swiping your tongue over his balls. 
You can hear the restraint in each laboured breath he huffs through his nose. 
Your soft lips envelop one of his balls, and your hands continue to stroke his length. You know he loves this; loves when you get down on your knees and worship him. 
You let your tongue massage every inch as it rests in your mouth, and when you let out a moan, pure theatrics to make him succumb to you, Aemond’s jaw goes slack and his lips part uncontrollably. 
Just a little further and you’ll break him. 
You’ll win. 
Perhaps the look in your eyes let him in on your scheme. 
Perhaps he’s too close to continue. 
But when he grabs you by the hair and yanks you off of him, it takes you by surprise. 
“About to cum, baby?”, you mockingly ask.  
He clicks his tongue and grabs your forearms to pull you up so you're standing in front of him again. 
Still not saying a word, he tries so hard to appear stoic, but you can see the storm brewing within him. A sudden push to your shoulders causes you to stumble backward and land on Aemond's soft hotel bed. 
“Let’s see how fucking wet you get from sucking off the man you hate”
His voice is both calm and taunting at once. His hands come up to the sides of your leggings, pulling them down with force, taking your underwear with them.
You know you’re wet, but you really don’t want him to know that. 
You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 
You try to press your legs together, but one of his large hands finds its place on your mound and cups it perfectly as one of his fingers slides down between your folds to meet the silky wetness there. The fact that his hand seems to fit against you perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, amplifies your desire. And rage. 
“Having my balls in your mouth made you that wet, huh? Still so dirty, baby”, he teases, emphasis on the pet name to match your previous mock. 
You let out a yelp as his hand briefly leaves you to land a quick smack on your exposed clit. His cocksure expression flashes by before he grabs your hips again to place you on your stomach, bare ass receiving a smack as well. 
He works quickly, sitting down next to you on the bed and pulling you towards him. He places your middle on his lap, and lets his hand come down to land another smack on your asscheek. 
His hand stays on your soft skin, lingering a bit longer than you’d anticipated, before travelling down between your thighs to meet your neglected centre. 
“You like that too, don’t you?”, he asks as he catches your clit between his fingers and press harshly. 
It stings. 
It feels good. 
You press your lips together to prevent any sounds from escaping, racking your brain for a way to gain back control. 
Aemond’s fingers begin to draw firm circles and your mind starts to feel foggy from want. Without thinking, your hips begin to move in tandem with his fingers. He chuckles. 
“I know you inside out”, he triumphs, but as you move your hips, you can feel how achingly hard he is beneath you. 
You know him too. 
You pull away from his lap, sitting back on your haunches on the bed, and remove your cardigan, then your tank top, and finally your bra. 
You manage to startle Aemond by your sudden move, and you seize your chance at dominance by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down, so he lies on his back on the plush, white sheets of the hotel bed. 
You straddle him, and move one hand down to pull down his sweatpants once again. Revealing his cock, you encircle him softly before placing his length between your folds, dragging your wetness all over him. You bite back a moan as his cock pushes on your clit again and again, hips move back and forward. 
Aemond seems lost for words as well, undoubtedly enjoying you moving against him. 
His seeing eye flickers wildly to take in your naked body, damaged eye not able to keep up with the rapid movements. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. You momentarily feel mesmerised by his beauty. 
The realisation that you’ve missed seeing him like this, missed being with him like this, pierces your heart painfully and your hips still. 
You don’t want to think about the sadness inside. You want to break him. Like he broke you. 
Up until now, it’s been a constant fight for dominance; a never-ending back and forth. But you got him now.
“Beg me to fuck you”, you command, voice slightly out of breath. Aemond’s eyes are fixed on your heaving, naked chest.  
“What?”, he questions, like he doesn’t understand what you’re asking.
“Beg”, you repeat, voice more demanding as your breathing calms, 
“Beg me to fuck you, Aemond”
Though confusion had briefly flashed over his face, it’s now set in fury. 
His eyes narrow.
Without answering you, he places one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist, manhandling your body down on his cock in one swift motion. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, much to Aemond’s satisfaction. He grins victoriously. 
Fuck, it’s been so long. 
He begins bucking up into you in an instance. The firm hold he has on your body feels bruising, and his fingers dig into your flesh meanly so that you won’t move. 
He angles his hips, and each stroke touches your sweet spot. You bite down on your lip to hinder the moans that are fighting to escape. He’s essentially fucking you on his cock, and it feels so good you can’t think clearly anymore. 
“Come on, I know you can’t keep quiet”
He pushes your body down harder, bucking his hips up faster. You can’t help but move with him, it feels so fucking good. 
You’re still not going to come. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s gonna come. 
You clench down on his length each time he slides in and you see the tension in his jaw; the vein bulging out at the side of his neck. 
Maybe if you push him just a little bit further? 
“Oh, Aemond”, you moan as you throw your head back, tightening your muscles again, gripping him like a vice. 
He’s always loved getting praised. 
The hand he’d placed on your shoulder moves to your throat, engulfing the entirety of it. His fingers press down on the sides, 
“Shut up” 
His grip tightens. The movement of your hips begin to falter as the restricted blood flow to your head amplifies your pleasure. You bite your lip harder not to moan. 
He knows exactly how to get you. 
He continues to fuck up into your dripping cunt, ignoring your change in pace. Each stroke of his cock within your walls feels like pure ecstasy; like sparks of sheer pleasure shooting through your body. 
His expression is infuriatingly smug and you realise you must look completely blissed out as he uses your body. 
You feel the familiar tightening in your lower stomach, the sign that your peak is approaching rapidly. 
No no no, he can’t win! 
You pull away from the grip he has on you, abruptly getting off him, internally mourning the pleasure you rob yourself of. 
He needs to come. He needs to break first. 
You sit next to where he’s lying on his back, hand moving down so that you can work his length again. 
Aemond catches on to your scheme quickly and uses his strength to push you away, manhandling you so your face’s down in the mattress and ass exposed. 
He pulls on one cheek, admiring your wet and wanting centre. When he shoves back inside with an exaggerated tut, you can’t take it anymore; the pleasure’s just too much.
His touch feels too good, no matter how harsh it is. 
You try to push your face as far as possible into the bed, hoping Aemond can’t hear the moans you can’t contain any longer. 
The loud smacks of his hips against your backside and the lewd, wet sounds coming from your cunt fill the room. 
It’s so aggressively erotic. 
One of his hands finds your clit and as he starts massaging it with vigour, his other hand moves towards your head. 
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back so you are facing him. The grip hurts; like a thousand little needles assaulting your scalp. 
“You’re gonna come, I know it. Don’t you fucking dare not look me in the eye when you do”
You’re stuck in his painful grip, yet your orgasm’s racing towards you, making you clench down on his length and moan louder and louder, no longer able to hide the effect he has on you. 
The hand in your hair moves down to grab your breast roughly, nipple pinched between his fingers. You find it hard to keep your body up as pleasure makes it feel like you're floating, but Aemond’s arms around you makes it impossible for you to move. His face moves to press against yours; cheek to cheek, 
“When you sing your silly little songs about what a player I am, remember that no one else can make you feel as good as I do”
And you’re gone. The orgasm hits you so hard you almost black out. It makes your entire body jerk uncontrollably, and if Aemond hadn’t been holding you, you’d be on the floor. 
He keeps fucking your through your orgasm, breathing heavily and grunting at the intense way your walls contract around him. 
As the movements of his hips turn sloppy and frantic, you feel his face move to press between your shoulder blades, arms still holding you tightly, like he’s hugging you from behind. 
Or trying to crush you. 
You can’t decide which. 
You stay like that for a few moments. The room is quiet, save for your shared heavy breathing. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity between the two of you and feel too exposed, regret storming inside you like in icy waves.  
Shit, what have you done?
Aemond loosens his grip around you and lowers you down on the bed much gentler than how he’d touched you before. 
You stay on your stomach, burying your face in the bed as you feel Aemond shuffle behind you, softly tracing a hand down your back before getting up and making his way towards the adjacent bathroom. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. 
Hearing him turn on the faucet, you quickly get up from the bed. 
You have to get out before he comes back. 
You frantically look for your clothes, scattered all over the hotel room floor. Trying to be as quick as you can be feels impossible when your legs still feel far wobbly, and your mind way too fuzzy, to cooperate.  
You hear Aemond turn off the faucet as you pull on your leggings and underwear. You can’t find your bra, and you don’t even bother looking for it before pulling on your tank top and cardigan hurriedly. 
You just need to get away. 
Away from Aemond. 
You step into your slippers and dart out the front door as you hear him emerge from the bathroom. 
Not patient enough to wait for the elevator, you head towards the emergency exit and climb the two stories up to your room. 
As soon as you're inside, you toss the hotel card key on the desk by the window and throw yourself on the bed, body jolting from the force. 
You want to cry. 
You want to scream. 
You want to go to sleep and realise this was all just a fucked up dream. 
You reach for your phone on the nightstand, now fully charged and with a few messages from Alysanne, asking you how you are and if you’d gone to the cafe she’d recommended by Winterfell Central Station. 
You press her name and the small telephone icon, hoping she’ll pick up. 
“Hi honey, you okay?”, she answers, voice evidently concerned from your sudden call. 
You usually stick to texting, or pre-scheduled face-time dates. 
“I fucked up”, you say, barely above a whisper. You hope that she’ll know what happened without you actually having to say the words. You don’t want to speak it into existence. 
“Did you kill him?”, she jokes and you let out a hollow laugh. 
“Worse”, you say, and Alysanne sighs on the other end.
“Was it good?”, she asks after a long pause, making you let out another snort. 
“What do I do now, Aly? I was just going to push him a little and now-”
“That’s your problem. You always want to get a reaction out of him. What happened to just focusing on yourself?”
Her words feel patronising, like you’re being scolded by your parents. Yet you know she is right. You stay silent and mentally search for a reply; any excuse for your behaviour. 
“Yeah”, you sigh in resignation. 
You know you fucked up; that you’ve acted childish and petty. Still, the satisfied afterglow of experiencing the best orgasm you’ve had in months leaves you feeling a bit less anxious. 
Alysanne tries to distract you by asking about Winterfell, the tour, and what you’re planning on wearing for the big show tomorrow. 
It feels good to talk to a friend without holding anything back. Even if you appreciate Helaena’s company immensely, you know she’s being pulled between you and Aemond, and you’d rather not add to her suffering. 
As Aly tells you about the guy she went on a date with last night, your phone buzzes. 
You briefly glance at your screen, ready to swipe the notification away, when you notice it’s an email from your solicitors office. 
You say a quick goodbye to Aly, open the email and quickly scan through the overly formal text. Your eyes flicker over the screen, taking in what’s written. 

finalised
 

shared assets
 
There’s a PDF at the bottom of the email. You click on it, seeing the document you’d left for Aemond in your flat over three months ago. The empty space you’d left next to your hurried signature is now filled in, reading; 
Aemond Targaryen. 
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A/N: Thank you for reading đŸ«¶ If you wonder about if he signed the papers right after she left his hotel room; it’s a pdf with his signature, I imagine he actually signed it before leaving for the tour and it just reached her solicitors now.
404 notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 7 months ago
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mayor que yo | max verstappen x pérez! reader
summary; max doesn’t care that checo’s sister is older than him. he just wants her no matter the age difference.
warnings; age gap but only by like 3-4 years😭 mentions of sex, reader is implied to be mexican ( duhhhh ) a bit of google translated spanish bc im too tired to mentally translate english to spanish
word count; 740
all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts
note; this song is so good too
masterlist !
back to old school masterlist.
⋆ ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†
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⋆ ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†à­šâ™Ąà­§â‹† ËšïœĄâ‹†
Max always cherished the few quiet moments he had in the roaring world of Formula One. He liked having moments of peace in his motorhome between practice sessions and media duties.
This is partially why he was so annoyed when hearing loud and quick Spanish followed by laughter coming from the motorhome of his new teammate.
Max liked Checo. He’s a cool guy. However, at that moment, he did not like him for bringing whoever it was making all the commotion.
He checked the time and sighed, knowing he had to leave the comfort of his motorhome. He grumbled as he put his phone back in his pocket, and opened the door. He didn’t expect to be met with deep brown eyes and a warm smile.
“Oh, Max! This is my baby sister,” Checo quickly introduced his sister to his new teammate who looked confused.
Before he could say anything, he was pulled into a tight hug by his teammate's sister. The warm scent of jasmine filled the air as he nervously hugged her back. “I’m Y/n. It’s so great to finally meet you!” She exclaimed as she pulled back, her accent peeking through from excitement.
Max cleared his throat, ignoring the way his heart began to race. “Yeah- It’s nice to meet you too.”
Ever since that day, Y/n was constantly on Max’s mind. Whenever she attended races to support her brother, the Dutch driver could never keep her eyes off her.
He knew she was older than him but just by a few years. He was used to dating women either his age or a bit younger, never older. But the Mexican intrigued him with the way her brown-lined lips always curled into a warm smile when greeting him or the way her hips swayed under the bright lights of a club after a successful race for Red Bull.
She had him curled around her finger. Everybody knew it, even she did.
If she was hanging out in the garage and wanted water? Max would rush to go and grab her one even if he was about to get in his car. If it's cold and windy outside? She’s immediately wrapped in his jacket. Her feet hurt from walking around in her expensive Jimmy Choos? He’ll carry her around in his arms.
It was no secret Max was fond of the younger Perez even though she was older. The other drivers, especially Lando, often teased him about the Dutch driver finding an older and experienced woman.
“Max found himself an older woman and never wants to be with us anymore!” The McLaren driver teased as he saw Max walking by with a pink smoothie in hand.
“You’re just jealous I found a girl.”
“I just don’t want to! Besides, I could find someone my own age.”
Max rolled his eyes as Charles, Daniel, and even a few other drivers started to make teasing remarks. “Age isn’t important anyways.” The Red Bull driver mumbled, mentally cursing at how his ears began to turn red.
He left the group quickly and huffed as he still heard their teasing when mentioning he had to give the strawberry smoothie to Y/n. Frankly, he couldn’t care about their teasing.
Y/n was older than him, yes. But he liked her, a lot. She was experienced, she knew her stuff. It was something he quickly learned late at night when he had her in his arms.
She traced the red lipstick marks on his neck with a long acrylic nail. There was a comfortable silence surrounding them as she quietly hummed a song.
“Max?” Her soft voice broke the silence.
Max simply hummed in reply. His eyes were closed as his head rested on the silky pillows.
“Does me being older not bother you?”
His eyes immediately opened, revealing the blue eyes she fell in love with. He leaned up and rested against the headboard. “What do you mean? I’ve told you countless times, that I don’t care. It’s only a few years, it doesn’t matter.”
“It’s just,” Y/n huffed. She rested her head against his bare chest as she looked up at him. “People talk, y’know.”
“No me importa.” [i don’t care] The sudden switch to Spanish made her heart warm up. She knew Max had been trying to learn, wanting to connect with her. He leaned down to place a kiss on her plump lips.
“No me importa que seas mayor que yo.” [i don’t care that you’re older than me]
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alicentofhightower · 7 months ago
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widow
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pairing: helaena targaryen x maid!reader
synopsis: helaena yearns for more insects to cradle, and you are all too willing to add to her collection.
includes: pre-b&c helaena but post aegon’s coronation, just cute lil crushes, fluff
wc: 1232
a/n: hiiii!! i wrote this for a twitter oomf so if u see this i hope u like it <3 this might be a bit ooc bc this is my first time writing for her but i tried lmao
-
Perhaps it was a bit stupid for you to be so afraid of insects while you worked in such a large castle, but the thought of little spiders crawling around frightened you nonetheless. The Red Keep was a monstrous thing, with halls seemingly never ending and chambers large enough to house an entire family. It was only natural for such little creatures to infest it.
You’d never understood why Helaena was so fond of them. Out of all of the royal family, she was the one you were closest to. Many of the other maids you worked with whispered of what a strange woman the Queen was, with her peculiar mumblings and odd tastes, but she was the sweetest woman you’d ever met.
A Targaryen dragonrider, she was, the mother of the heir to the Iron Throne and King Aegon’s only daughter, but she was so gentle. You suppose it was only logical you’d developed a crush alike to a green boy’s on her. Helaena had always had an aversion to touch, but you were the only one she allowed to braid her hair, and sometimes her fingers would trace indecipherable shapes on the back of your hand. You wondered what they meant.
“I’d like for more little bugs,” she tells you one day while you braid her hair. Wavy and soft, it was, befitting one of her station. “They are my only company when the children are at their lessons. I enjoy hearing their whispers.” You fight the urge to raise a brow at that, knowing Helaena’s wisdom often presented itself in riddles.
She sat on a velvet-cushioned chair in front of her vanity, adorning a blue dress matching Dreamfyre’s scales and a silver-chained necklace. Nimble fingers play with her wedding ring as you finish up, and it’s clear she’s making an effort to sit up straight. She’d never had good posture, but she’d try for you.
You place your hands on her shoulders as you bend to the level of her ear. The feel of them is purposely light and feathery, meant to make it easy for her to brush them off if she so desires. “Mayhaps you might ask your lord husband for more,” You say, your tone tender as always.
“He does not take interest in what I do.” Her words are simple and to the point. That was always how she spoke of Aegon. Then, she turns to face you, a small smile fixed on her face. The way the light from the window illuminates her face makes her resemble an angel.
She places her hand on top of where yours rests on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you,” she says sincerely, then smooths out the wrinkles of her periwinkle gown and stands. You find yourself getting lost in the deep blue of her eyes, ever so alluring.
Only a moment later, you snap out of it, bowing your head to her and leaving the room with haste. It was improper for a person of your standing to carry such intimate affections for a royal woman, nevermind the fact that you were one yourself. Yet, you could not force yourself to ignore the thought that had come to you — to get Helaena more of her little bugs.
-
Your attempts to suppress your fears do not work. You find yourself asking yourself why you’re even putting yourself through this much trouble for just a few bugs, but you shrug it off and keep going.
You barely even recognize the hall you’re in, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve been here. You grip your scarlet skirts closer to you with one hand and grasp the candle tightly in the other, letting out a shaky sigh that echoes through the corridor.
You’re here with one goal in mind: get Helaena her silly spider, then run to her chambers so you never have to hold it again. To touch such a wretched thing will disgust you, no doubt, but it is worth it if it is for her. Thoughts of its impropriety are repressed yet again when you bend down to get a look at the stone floor.
It’s repulsive. What seems like thousands of thick cobwebs cover the parts of the stone by the wall, waiting to be stepped on by a group of nobles on the morrow. How do they come so fast? You do not wish to know the answer.
Swallowing down a dramatic shudder, you extend your hand, palm up, in search of an insect you think Helaena will take a liking to. You’re careful with the torch you hold, tilting it down to get a closer look at the sight before you.
There’s a little army of them, it seems, though they’re all spread out. A black widow catches your eye almost immediately, and it almost looks like its beady eyes are staring right through you. Like there’s someone behind you.
You whip your head around, but there’s no one there. “Come on, sweet thing,” You whisper, but it’s mostly to yourself rather than to the little recluse you grab speedily. You cannot fight the yelp that escapes from your throat when you feel its legs poking around in the gaps between your closed fingers.
You practically run up the steps towards where the royal chambers are after that, ignoring the piercing stares you receive from the other maids, the guards, and the noblemen alike. Fuck them, you think, ignoring the fact you’re going to repent at the Sept later for utilizing such a foul word, this is for the Queen.
Quite rudely, you realize later, you burst through the doors of Helaena’s chambers and feel a wave of guilt when you see how she startles at the noise of it. She’d always been sensitive to loud interruptions.
“Your grace,” you squeak, almost wincing at the tone of your voice. Helaena sets her embroidery hoop aside, and you can’t help but notice how similar the spider in it looks to the one in your palm. Wide eyes study you as you move to sit on the floor beside her. It’s far more clean than the hallway.
Gentle hands reach for yours. “What’s the matter?” She asks, always so empathetic, and her lips part in surprise when she sees the bug you hold. Never had you spoken of it to her, probably not wishing to offend her somehow, but she’d always known of your aversion to such critters.
She reaches for it herself, smiling softly at the feeling of its tiny legs crawling over her wrist. Gasping, as if realizing what you’ve done for her, she sets the thing in one of the empty cages behind her and turns her full attention to you. “Thank you,” she says sincerely. “You did not have to.”
“You said it yourself, my Queen. You required more of them, did you not?”
Her cheeks flush at that, a rare sight. Gingerly, almost afraid that you’ll pull away in repulsion of her touch, she places a kiss onto your temple. An honor, you’ll realize later, knowing of her usual unwillingness when it comes to physical touch.
A tentative finger traces the lines of your palm. Her eyes are still fixed on you. “
I’ve never had someone care so much for what I desire,” She admits, “or mine own interests.”
Suddenly, she interlaces her fingers with yours. “Will you stay?”
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 months ago
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Poly!plastics x powerlifter!reader
Reader always wears baggy clothes and under that a very muscular gal and for some reason the plastics never put two together, so one day reader has to join in dodgeball in gym and their hoodie is making it hard to move so they take it off revealing their arms sculpted by Zues himself.
Heracles or Something
|| poly!plastics x powerlifter!nonbinary!reader
|| Warnings; hints at later sex, plastics simping over reader, short drabble
|| Summary; when the plastics see reader in a t shirt for the first time, they lose their minds.
Requests open!
Started; November 9th
Finished; November 9th
~~~
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It hasn't been too long since you started dating the plastics; so their reaction to your muscles makes absolute sense. Considering they've yet to see you without hoodies and sweats on. It was second period gym and Coach Carr decided that the class would play a game of dodgeball. Which was one of your favourites, you always went all out for this.
By sheer luck, you and your girlfriends all managed to be on the same team. Regina was absolutely demolishing everyone. She's terrifying to go up against in dodgeball. Gretchen was mostly either using you or Regina as a shield. While Karen kind of just stood there, making herself the easiest target in the world. You defended her though. Not wanting her to be one of the first ones out.
About half way through the game, you were finding it increasingly difficult to play with your hoodie on. It was getting beyond tiring having to move around in all that sweaty fabric. So you tossed it off, throwing it against the wall and doing a little arm stretch before returning to the game.
All three of your girlfriends got out in that same moment. Why? Their jaws were dropped and they couldn't pull their eyes away from you. Since when did their Y/N have insane muscles? Honestly, you looked as though Zeus himself made your body. It was Godly.
They weren't even mad they got out, just accepting their defeat. Because it gave them more time to admire you from the sidelines.
When the game was over, Regina was the first one to you in the locker room. Immediately pulling you into a kiss before you could sneak off to change in the bathroom. Because oh my God. You were even hotter now. Your lips moved against Regina's, she was being rough enough to get a moan out of you. Especially with how her nails had trailed along your arms. Practically tracing the tone outlines.
As the kiss broke, she cupped your cheeks and made you look into her eyes. With a desire you'd never seen in them before," my place. After school. I don't care if you have stuff to do." She stated, not leaving any room for an argument. You swallowed and nodded just as Gretchen and Karen joined the two of you.
"When were you gonna tell us?!" Gretchen exclaimed, leaving you pretty dumbfounded. Tell them what?
"Uh-?" You'd started to ask what she meant when Gretchen just rolled her eyes. Realizing you had no idea what she was talking about.
"Your muscles! You look like- I don't know, Heracles or something!" You burst out laughing at her explanation, cheeks flushed as you shook your head. Grinning from her flustered compliment.
"I try." You joked with a wink, meanwhile Karen. Had been completely distracted by your arms this entire time, eyes wide and mouth open.
When you noticed you gently closed her mouth for her, wiping away the drool with your thumb and kissing her cheek. "Hey, Earth to Karen."
She blinked when she heard her name," huh? Oh, yeah totally." You had no idea what she was responding to, even Gretchen just kinda shrugged at it.
Regina wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you against her and resting her head to your shoulder. "God... you're so hot." She couldn't get over your muscles, making you blush again as you leaned into her touch.
Definitely looking forward to tonight.
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lordprettyflackotara · 7 months ago
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chapter eight || hitchhiker || the proxies
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SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: humiliation like big time please read with discretion, degrading, rough sex, breeding kink, choking, face fucking
Masky knew time was running out.
In his hand sat a scrub brush, his fingers gripping the wood so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He knew they were running out of time. The Operator wanted you. He could see it now. He had been a blind fool to not realize it sooner. Your paranoia. Masky felt like a fool to ever even think that them being around you wouldn't cause this. He gritted his teeth as he scrubbed at your kitchen floor. They needed to do what they did best: disappear.
Toby was keeping The Operator busy, Hoodie occupied with finding Nova. They had agreed to let her live for your sake, so you would have someone while they were gone. Leaving meant one thing for certain: absolutely no traces were to be left behind that they were over there. No fingerprints, items, hairs, or any sign. Masky knew this is what they had to do. It was for your own good. They couldn't let The Operator have you. You didn't deserve this life of imprisonment. It was then your apartment door slammed open, your small figure shaking with rage. Masky's eyes widened, his expression hidden under his mask. You slammed the door behind you, reaching around to your back waistband.
You weren't proud of your decision to steal from Nova. She was your best friend. But as you clutched the metal piece in your hands, you had never felt more alive. You held out the stolen gun, aiming it at Masky's crouched figure.
"Who are you?" You asked coldly. You had never felt more explosive with emotions, your heart racing. "My name is Masky. I am a mere alter created by the Tim you know and love," Masky said flatly. You narrowed your eyes, your eyebrows furrowing. "Explain yourself," You ordered. Masky raised his hands, slowly rising to his feet. He noted you wearing his jacket even as you pointed a gun at him. "There's too much to explain, what you need to know-" Masky began, your audible scoff cutting him off. Your face was twisted in anger and betrayal, your hands beginning to visibly shake. "I don't give a shit what you think I need to know. Tell me everything. From the beginning. Leave out any details and i-i'll shoot!" You exclaimed.
Masky straightened his shoulders, eyeing you through his mask. "When you met us we had just gotten done with murdering Detective Williams, or whatever his name is. They all blend in together after a while. May I sit? We're going to be here for a while," Masky asked. He gestured to your coffee table. You frowned, cocking your gun towards the table. Masky recognized it to be a python. The same one Nova had threatened to kill Toby with. "I can listen to the story without your mockery. Detective Winston had a family. He had a community that looked up to him," You spat, venom lacing your words. Masky dug in his jean pocket, yanking out a box of cigarettes.
"They always do. He made himself a target by investigating the proxy symbol. I know Nova has showed it to you," Masky said. He was merely guessing, but your face twisting in surprise confirmed his suspicion. "The proxy symbol has been around for centuries. It was created by my maker, The Operator. An unstoppable supernatural entity that diminishes the sanity of his victims. The ones he wants to make proxies at least," Masky explained. He took out a cigarette, not bothering to offer you one. You looked like you could use one though. Your shaking was very noticeable. "When he plants the proxy symbol at a location. He has a specific target in mind. Once the target breaks down to his liking, he'll turn them into what we are. Enslaved proxies mindlessly forced to do his bidding," Masky told you. Masky knew it was highly unprobeable you'd actually pull the trigger.
But to make you feel better he took his lighter out of his pocket slowly. "However, in the modern day world, getting a proxy is a bit more tricky. Back when Hoodie and I-" He started, noticing you looking lost. He flicked the lighter, igniting the end of his stick. "Hoodie is Brian's alter. We were created due to Tim and Brian's mental corruption and faltering. We can swallow what The Operator wants. They can't," Masky clarified. He inhaled his cigarette, any protest of him smoking inside being kept to yourself. "Back to what I was saying. Back then, maybe seven years ago, people just used missing posters and if you weren't found in 48 hours, you were presumed dead. Nowadays there's cameras and more compassion," Masky rambled. He exhaled his cigarette through his mouth, a difference between him and Tim.
"Killing cops and detectives isn't our bread and butter you know. We used to just clean up corpses or crime scenes. But that symbol reaching a wider audience is lethal to life as you know it. Nova really fucked up, plastering that shit on television," Masky said in an annoyed tone. Your eyes were beginning to water, your energy spent on fighting back the tears that threatened to poor. "Why?" You asked. Masky raised his hand, as if having a gun at him was unfazing. "I'm getting there princess," Masky replied. He inhaled more of his cigarette, before quickly exhaling. The buzz gave him a decent amount of relief from stress. "When The Operator plants a symbol somewhere, he has a singular target in mind. If it gets exposed to too many people, they could suffer from his wrath too. You'd be surprised how many people are one day away from snapping. He targets the mentally weak, like Tim and Brian. The weak with deep down issues that he could exercise to his advantage," Masky said dryly.
"Don't say that!" You hissed. Masky gave you an odd look, one concealed by his mask. "Why? Because you made out with Brian? Because you shared a cigarette with Tim?" He questioned. Your tears were flooding your waterline now, blinks away from free falling. "Well listen up princess. They're the reason you're fucked," Masky barked. The tears became too much, two droplets sliding down your cheeks. "The Operator has now shown interest in you. And it's their fault. It's also mine, for not putting a bullet through your skull when I had the chance," He said coldly. Your hands were shaking, your finger trembling against the trigger. You had never shot a gun in your life. You feared if you removed your finger he would stop talking. But you also feared if you kept it there you may accidentally pull the trigger.
"And Toby?" You asked.
Masky picked up his head, "What about him?"
"How does he play into all of this? You haven't mentioned him once," You explained. Masky took another sharp inhale, the tobacco smoke circling around his lungs. "The kid was practically adopted by The Operator when he burned down his house. Tourette's, schizophrenia, and the inability to feel pain. The Operator’s perfect adopted child. Not including his homicidal tendencies," Masky told you. Your eyes widened, your heart beginning to throb painfully. "Homicidal tendencies?" You whispered. It suddenly occurred to you. Nova had been right all along. Masky pistol whipped you. He was responsible for the bullet wounds. "He cuts up the bodies?" You said, phrasing your words as more of a question. Masky nodded affirmatively. "Like no one you've seen before," He confirmed. You felt your stomach churn, nausea ensuing quickly. They were murderers, all of them.
You blinked slowly, soaking all of it in. You glanced over at your kitchen, noting a duffel bag on your counter and Masky's abandoned scrub brush on the floor. "Why were you cleaning my apartment?" You asked. Masky ran his fingers through his choppy hair. "To leave no traces of us. This is what we do. We get the job done, then we disappear," He said, the words spilling out like he didn't want to say them. You froze, his words soaking in. They were leaving? After everything that had happened? "And the duffel bag?" You questioned. Masky slowly rose from the coffee table, taking one last puff of his cigarette before tossing it into the sink.
He grabbed it, yanking open the zipper and tossing it upside down. Out spilled handfuls of hundred dollar bills. You had never seen so much hard cold cash before, your heart plummeting at the sight. “What is this supposed to be?” You gasped. Masky tossed the duffel bag aside. “A peace offering. We’re hoping you can forgive us. That’s around fifty thousand dollars. That’ll pay off your debts. Take the money and Nova and get the fuck out of town,” Masky advised. You temporarily put down the gun, feeling defeat.
“Thats what you think I want? To forget the three of you? Why did you do this to me? Use me to get to Nova? You-” You babbled, pausing when you realized you weren’t talking to Tim. You swallowed, choking on your own words. “Was it a game? To all of you? To Brian? Hood- Hoodie? Toby? Tim? You?” You questioned. Masky lifted his mask, tossing it aside. “Listen to me very carefully princess. Hoodie and I may have started off that way but you have no idea how much you’ve grown on us. How much we care about you. I mean, for fucks sake we just gave you fifty grand,” Masky said. You stomped over to him, grabbing a handful of the cash and throwing it at his chest.
“You think I give a shit about any of that? I let the three of you, five of you, what the fuck ever, into my goddamn life and not only, do you lie to me about who you are. You murder people due to a demon that you attached to me and now you’re just going to up and leave? Thats your resolution?” You exclaimed. Masky went to take a step towards you, your arm raising the gun out of instinct. “Dont fucking touch me or I swear to God i’ll shoot,” You threatened. The swelling in your chest was immense, pressure assaulting your chest.
For the first time in Masky’s existence, he felt something unfamiliar. He watched as you struggled to stay upright, your chest rising and lowering at a dramatic rate. “I don’t understand, why are you upset? This is the best course of action,” Masky said bluntly. You wiped away a few tears, your lip quivering uncontrollable. “Because I fucking care about you! About all of you!” You bellowed. Masky froze, watching your hand shake as you gripped the gun. He realized what he was feeling, his mouth running dry.
Remorse. He felt remorse.
In a swift motion Masky charged at you, one hand gripped around the python, the other backing you into the front door. His large fingers gripped around the gun, angrily tossing it to the side. “First things first princess, you ever aim a gun at me again i’m going to shoot you with it. Secondly, the next time you aim a gun at someone, maybe take the gun off of safety first,” He growled. You shook under his touch as he towered over you. “And thirdly, I care about you too,” Masky confessed softly. You stared up at him, the face of the man who you had shared a cigarette with and bought you cupcakes on a late night whim. Unsurely he brought his hand to your face.
He cupped your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears that stained your soft skin. You searched his eyes unsurely. “There isn’t shit we can do now about how we got here. But I want the best for you,” Masky told you. You put your hand on top of his, closing your eyes. “You all cant leave me. You- you can’t,” You whimpered. Masky’s gaze softened, watching tears flow freely. His thumbs couldn’t wipe them away fast enough. “You’re all I have,” You uttered. It occurred to Masky then, the situation you were truly in.
You had Nova, sure. But how long was it before she wanted a family of her own? Maybe she would keep you around, sure. But you worked a dead end job, one that clearly was not paying the bills. Your dreams were far and out of reach. You had no contact with anyone else besides them. How could he do it? How could Masky leave you here all by yourself? He always thought of himself to be stronger than this. To be stronger than Tim. He was created to be a ruthless obedient murder machine. Yet as you sobbed into his hand, he realized he may be more than that. He couldn’t allow The Operator to have you. He knew that for certain. But all he could do for now, was have you to himself.
He guided your head, using his hand to guide your chin to look at him. You swallowed, your eyes glassy as Masky pressed his lips to yours. His lips were rough, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck without a second thought. He pushed you flat against the door, his large hands roaming down your body. Briefly he bent down, reaching under your thighs. “Jump,” He grumbled against your lips. You did as commanded, the brunette lifting you like you weighed nothing at all.
Your legs wrapped around Masky’s waist out of instinct, his bulge rubbing against your clothed core. He began to slowly grind against you, the two of you groaning in each other’s mouths. Your hands found his hair, gently tugging at the roots as you meshed your lips against his. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to whine as you granted him access. Involuntarily you pulled him closer and closer, wanting Masky as close to you as humanly possible. “I have to warn you princess, I don’t play nice,” Masky huffed, pulling away from your lips. His cock was throbbing his jeans, each subtle movement of his hips resulting in a whine escaping your throat.
“I don’t want nice. I want you,” You whispered. Your doe eyes met his, your words only making him more flustered. “I’m not like Toby, I could seriously hurt you,” Masky repeated. You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze flickering to his lips. “So hurt me then,” You agreed. Masky’s eyebrows raised, a devious smirk crossing his lips. “You sure you can handle it pretty girl?” He questioned. He brought his hand to your throat, squeezing the sides. You groaned as he restricted your airway, your hips rolling against his. “Holy fuck, you really are a slut,” Masky grumbled. He licked his lips, setting you down on the floor.
His hands fiddled with your sweatpants, shoving them and your panties down to the floor in a careless motion. You expected him to lead you to the couch or to drop to his knees. To do anything but what he did next. In a swift motion he picked you up by your thighs, nuzzling his face in between your thighs. Fear washed over you as he held you mid air, your back hitting the wall. You were almost touching the ceiling, your mouth running dry. “M-Masky i’m not sure-” You started to protest, Masky’s curious eyes gazing up at you. He held you as if you weighed nothing, his mouth dangerously close to your cunt.
“Something wrong princess? I thought you said you could handle it,” Masky chuckled. He straightened out his back, unfazed by holding you standing up.He had looped your legs over his shoulders, hit breath fanning over your folds. "It's just a b-bit high up here," You stuttered. Masky leaned forward, licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your folds. "I got you princess, now relax and fall apart for me," Masky purred. He brought his mouth to your clit, groaning into your folds as he devoured your pussy. Your core was aching, praying for more. His tongue wasn't enough, each flick making your body shudder. You began to relax, raking your hands through his hair as he lapped at your cunt.
Unlike Toby he was far more rough and assertive, his tongue teasing your entrance before continuing to lap any juices you produced. His grip on you was tight, your head tilting back against the wall as he held you in place. You felt the rope inside of you tighten. "Fuck Masky right fucking there! So close," You slurred. Masky took one last long lap of your cunt, before bringing you back to the floor. The tension inside of you dissolved. "W-what was that? I was so close!" You hissed. Masky grabbed a handful of your hair, dragging you over to the couch. He threw you over the arm of the couch, your ass high in the air. A sharp slap was delivered to your skin, a chill running down your spine.
"You'll take what I give you. Such a whiny little thing," Masky purred. He rubbed the skin he had slapped, admiring your flesh turning a deep red. The pain he delivered was gratifying, your core throbbing with a different desire. An ache you had never craved before. You turned around, throwing yourself to the ground. "What do we have here? A cock hungry whore?" Masky mused. You yanked at his belt, before undoing his jeans. Masky couldn't deny you, his desire for you too much to ignore any longer. You brought his cock into your mouth without a second thought, your doe eyes staring up at him. You hollowed out your cheeks, taking his cock down to the base.
"Do- Do you want me to face fuck you?" Masky asked unsurely. You nodded as best as you could with his length down your throat, the sight setting Masky's body on fire. He grabbed your hand, putting it in a neat ponytail. "Your wish is my command princess. Why don't you touch that pretty cunt of yours?" He suggested. You slithered one of your hands down to your cunt, rubbing circles around your clit as Masky moved his hips. His cock hit the back of your throat slowly, his eyes gleaming with pride as you took him in stride. You whined around his cock as your core ignited with a familiar flame. The vibrations made Masky moan your name, his grip on your hair now tightening.
"How did I ever think of leaving? Fuck!" Masky moaned. His hips began to move faster, his cock abusing your throat as it pleased. You gagged around his thick shaft, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth. Humiliatingly it dripped down your chin, a small puddle of it forming on the floor. You circled your clit faster, gagging on Masky as he shoved himself down your throat. "Such a good slut for me. So fucking good. Fucking hell," Masky grunted. Tears flooded your waterline again, this time the sight satisfying to the brunette standing above you. He enjoyed seeing you so hungry for his cock. So desperate to get off that you'd let him throat fuck you as you played with yourself.
You could feel yourself getting close again, this time your eyes pleading as they looked at Masky. "Can I cum?" You asked, your words muffled by his shaft. Masky pulled himself out of your throat, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. "Look at you. Asking me to cum like a good girl," Masky praised. You continued to circle your clit, the brunette crouching down to your level. He grabbed your chin roughly, planting a sloppy kiss to your lips. "That's too fucking bad that you need to cum already. You're only allowed to cum on my cock," Masky spat. He grabbed a handful of your hair, pushing you towards the floor. You held your ass high in the air, whimpering as you forced yourself to disconnect your fingers from your clit.
Masky made his way behind you, pressing down on your back for a better arch. "You need to cum on a real mans dick princess. Lucky for you i'm here," Masy huffed. He slapped his tip on your drenched folds, the slightest sensation making you squirm. He pushed himself inside of you, both of you groaning in unison. "You're so lucky i'm here. If Tim was doing this he'd hold your hand. But that's not what you want. Is it?" He asked mockingly. He grabbed your wrist, pinning them behind your back as he bottomed out inside of you. "You want to be degraded and be a whore, don't you?" Masky tsked. You squeezed his shaft, then attempting to wiggle your helps so the brunette would move. "I'm not a whore!" You protested weakly. Masky grinned devilishly, pushing your head to the ground.
Your face was an inch away from your previously fallen saliva, your eyes widening. "Lick it up or I won't fuck you," Masky threatened calmly. You hesitated, his hand roughly grabbing your hair, guiding you over to the pool of saliva. "I don't think I stuttered princess," He growled. Humiliated, you stuck out your tongue, deciding to lick the saliva off of the floor. "Only whores do this kind of shit to get fucked. Guess that makes you a whore," Masky chuckled darkly. He began to move his hips, moans escaping your lips as you licked the wood below you. "You're my whore though, don't you ever forget it," Masky rambled. He snapped his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with ease.
Your body shook as Masky pounded into you, his fingers gripping your waist so hard your sinful noises were a mixture of pain and pleasure. You couldn’t control the sounds you made, Masky’s cock pounding into you mercilessly. You felt the cord inside of you tighten again, Masky’s thrust alone enough to send you over the edge. “My fucking whore. C’mere,” Masky snarled. He released your wrist, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you towards him. Your back hit his back as he thrust up into you, your thighs beginning to tremble. Roughly he brought his hand to your throat, squeezing it harshly.
“Go on. I know you’re dying to cum on my cock,” Masky grunted. His breath was hot against your ear, his grip on your neck only tightening. “Just know once you do i’m going to cum deep inside of you,” Masky informed you. You whimpered, your body being forced closer and closer to the edge. “Awe you like that idea, don’t you princess? I can feel you squeezing me. You like the idea of me breeding you,” Masky snickered. It was then your vision went white, your breath shallow as you came around his cock. Your walls milked Masky as you rode out your orgasm, the brunette behind you grunting as he came inside of you.
Dazed, you felt Masky’s hand slip away from your neck. Slowly he pulled out of you, his cum dripping down your thighs and traveling onto the floor. You slumped onto the floor, Masky’s strong hands preventing you from fully falling over. “Let’s get you tucked in princess,” Masky mumbled. You allowed your eyes to flutter close, entrusting the man with a mask with take care of your limp body.
“Hey Masky?”
“Yeah?”
“You guys are staying, right?”
Masky hesitated, clearing his throat before answering, “Yes we are.”
“Can I keep the fifty grand too?”
—> next chapter
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ha-rinrin · 3 months ago
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Mischief and Healing
summary: Jinx injures herself, again, leaving you to heal her.
wordcount: 1.3k
pairing: Jinx x fem!reader
note: sorry if I disappeared for a while, I got my first hate comment in ao3 so thats demotivated me a lot lol, but im getting over it little by little. I really hope you guys like this.
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The afternoon light streamed into the room, casting a warm glow, as you and Jinx lay stretched out on the couch, using it like a makeshift bed. You were on your back, with Jinx curled into your side, her arm draped lazily across your stomach. The couch wasn’t quite big enough for the both of you, but that only made it better—cozier. Her head was resting on your chest, and the warmth of her body pressed against yours made the moment feel peaceful, making you smile unconsciously, closing your eyes.
For a while, everything was quiet, her breathing steady as she traced absentminded circles on your arm. It felt like one of those rare times when the world wasn’t spinning out of control.
Then, all of a sudden, she sat up, her eyes wide with realization, “Oh, shit!  I forgot—I’ve got something to take care of.” her expression shifting, playful concern flickering in her eyes.
You blinked, startled by the sudden shift from cozy to chaotic. “What? Now?” you asked with your eyes half closed, watching as Jinx scrambled off the couch,Already distracted, her mind clearly racing ahead to whatever chaos was next.
She shot you a playful grin, her hands already grabbing random tools from her workbench, shoving them into a backpack, you always found it cute when she wore it, acting as if she wasn't a menace to society. “Top secret. Can’t tell you,” she said with a wink. Before you could protest, she leaned in, pressing a quick peck to your lips. “Don’t wait up!” she called over her shoulder as she bolted out the door.
“Be safe,” you called after her, sighing as the workshop door closed behind her. With Jinx, that phrase always felt like wishful thinking.
After Jinx had dashed out of the workshop, you decided to step out for a moment too, thinking she’d be alright handling whatever it was. You figured she was just tinkering with her gadgets—nothing she couldn’t handle, right? But as the minutes ticked by, a nagging feeling crept into your chest, something you couldn’t shake. You knew Jinx well enough to sense when things weren’t going smoothly.
With a sigh, you turned back toward the workshop, hoping to find her lost in one of her chaotic, creative moods. But the moment you stepped inside, the silence felt off—like the kind of stillness that comes before something bad happens.
Your eyes scanned the room, and there she was, sitting at her workbench with her back to you. The usual sounds of tools clinking, the soft hum of machinery—it was all absent. The air around her was unnervingly still.
“Jinx?” you called as you walked into the workshop, your stomach sinking when you saw her sitting at the workbench, her leg was bleeding, the drops of blood pooling on the floor beneath her. And in her hand was that damn staple gun, aimed right at her skin, you swear one day you were throwing that shit into the void.
“Jinx, what the fuck are you doing?!” you snapped, hurrying toward her. Your voice was sharp, but your heart raced with panic, already dreading what she might have gotten herself into this time.
She didn’t even flinch, her eyes wide and focused on the wound like it was just another one of her projects. “Chill,” she muttered, the corner of her mouth curling into a grin. “I’ve got this, toots. Just a quick fix, y’know?”
You snatched the tool out of her hand before she could staple her leg shut. “Are you out of your mind?! You can’t just staple yourself together like this every time you get hurt!” You looked down at her leg, wincing at how deep the cut was under her knee.
Jinx raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by your outburst, though the blood dripping down her leg told a different story. “I mean, I could,” she said with a sly grin, leaning back in her chair as if she wasn't bleeding heavily. “I’ve patched up worse, and hey—who needs stitches when you’ve got a staple gun, right?”
You shot her a glare. “You’re not fixing a damn thing with this,” you muttered, tossing the staple gun onto the workbench. “Let me take care of it before you make things worse.”
She groaned dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. I’ll play nice,” she grumbled, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “But only because you’re cute when you’re bossy.”
Ignoring her bravado, you grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf, your hands already moving with purpose. “Sit still,” you instructed, Your voice carrying a hint of frustration mixed with concern. you kneeled down so you could see the wound better “Let me take care of this before it gets infected.”
Jinx winced as you began cleaning the wound, though she tried to play it off with her usual nonchalance. “Ow, ow, okay, okay
 You’ve got a heavy hand there, doc.”
You shot her a glare, though the worry in your eyes betrayed how scared you were.
She gritted her teeth, her fingers gripping the edge of the workbench as you carefully stitched the gash. The pain was clear on her face, but she stayed quiet, letting you work.
“You’re gonna give me gray hair one of these days, I swear,” you muttered as you worked, your tone softening.
Jinx chuckled, though her voice was strained. “You’d look cute with gray hair,” she teased, trying to distract herself from the pain.
Once you finished the last stitch, you leaned back slightly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Jinx was still, her eyes focused on you, watching as you carefully finished bandaging the wound.
Then, without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss over the bandage, right where you had stitched her up. Jinx blinked, caught off guard by the gentle gesture, before her usual grin slowly crept back onto her face.
“Kissing it better, huh?” she teased, her voice lighter now, despite the pain.
“Yeah, well,  you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath after the panic of finding her like that.
Jinx watched you for a moment, her grin softening into something more genuine. “You worry too much,” she said, but there was no bite to her words this time. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she tilted her head, her eyes searching yours.
“Can you blame me?” you shot back, though your voice was gentle now. “You have a habit of throwing yourself into danger like it’s no big deal.”
Jinx smirked, though her usual self seemed to falter slightly. “That’s kinda my thing, y’know?” She shrugged, trying to play it off, but there was something more vulnerable in her eyes—something that made your heart ache.
You reached up, cupping her hand on your cheek, and for a moment, the two of you just sat there in the quiet of the workshop. The world outside seemed far away, and all that mattered was her—right here, safe, and finally still.
“Next time,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm as you stand up, “let me help before it gets this bad”
Jinx rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze gave her away. “Fine,” she grumbled, clearly trying to sound annoyed, though her lips twitched into a smile. “But don’t think this means I’m gonna stop getting into trouble.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jinx leaned in, closing the space between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both teasing and tender. When she pulled back, that familiar spark of mischief was back in her eyes, but there was something else too—a quiet appreciation that she rarely let show.
“Thanks, doc,” she murmured, her voice softer than usual.
You smiled, your hand resting on her leg, careful not to press against the freshly bandaged wound. “Anytime, Jinx. Just
 try not to make it too often, alright?”
She snickered, leaning back in her chair with a playful grin. “No promises.”
Despite her words, the tension melted away as the two of you settled into the quiet. For once, the chaos was still, and Jinx, for all her wildness, was right where she belonged—safe in your care.
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rbfclassy · 8 months ago
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STILL IN LOVE! #6 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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You laid on Kento’s chest, staring at the wall as his fingers traced patterns on your skin. You took a deep breath in, snuggling into him more and shut your eyes. The last few days you’ve been thinking about your argument with Toji, thinking about your kids. It always made your stomach twist in knots thinking about it because all that you could remember were the bad times. Everything good you guys had started to diminish from your memory. Even when you weren’t together, you two still couldn’t properly be there for your kids. From the first arguments to the last, you’d always remember the look on their faces when things got loud.
“Hey, you okay?” Kento asked, caressing your back. You’d think this man is psychic with the way he could tell something was always wrong with you.
“Just thinking,” you replied.
“Good things or bad things?” He questioned, looking down at you.
“About the kids, my family.” Another deep breath filled your lungs as you sat up. You couldn’t get a moments rest when it felt like your world was crumbling slowly in front of you.
“Sweetheart,” he cupped your cheek, “you’re a great mom to them. Just because you’ve had a couple bumps in the road doesn’t mean a thing,” he reassured.
“I know, but,” you looked at him, “Toji.” That name was all you had to say to Kento to make his smile drop.
“What about him?” He asked, sitting up.
“From the moment the arguments started and the divorced happened, it affected the kids so much. It still is and I’m scared it won’t change. He’s a good dad, he loves them so much, but me and him can never get level with each other,” you explained.
“Why do you think that is?” His brows knitted together. He rubbed the pad of thumb across your knuckles, an attempt to soothe you. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew why you and Toji could never come to a compromise. It was clear there was still something there. The feelings, the attraction. It was hard to let go of that relationship aspect and focus on the co parenting aspect.
“I’m not sure,” you responded.
“Talk to him about it, see if he knows.” He shrugged. “I know you’re probably thinking it’ll just end in another fight, but it’s worth a shot.”
You sighed, running your hands down your face. “It will end in another fight, trust me. I’ve been through enough—”
“Ah, shit.” Kento looked down at his phone.
“What?” You asked, puzzled.
“Work,” he sighed. “I gotta get going, sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed.
“Wait, I thought you said you had a day off?” You looked up at him as he put his shirt on.
“Yeah, I know, but, it’s work. Not much I can do,” he chuckled.
“You said the same thing yesterday when it was supposed to be your day off.” Your brows furrowed.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He planted another kiss on your cheek and cheek walked out the bedroom with his coat in hand. You sat there on the bed, watching him disappear. The front door open and shutting seconds after, leaving you in silence. Lying back down on the bed, you reached to the empty side. Guilt consumed you when images of Toji lying beside you flashed before your eyes instead of Kento. Quickly, you retracted your hand and turned the other way, pulling the blankets over your body.
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“Mmm, daddy this ice cream is so good!” Naya licked her lips, trying to get the excess ice cream around her mouth.
“Yeah?” Toji chuckled, grabbing a napkin. “It’s my favorite.” He wiped her mouth.
“It’s my favorite too! Can I have more please?” She smiled up at him, a smile he could never say no to.
“Of course, baby girl.” He gave her another spoonful, watching her eyes light up when she got a fudge brownie piece. “How’s your ice cream, Megs?” Toji asked.
“Pretty good. Should’ve gotten gummy bears.” He slightly frowned, stabbing at contents in the cup.
Toji decided it would be nice to take the kids out for a while after what happened. The last few days everyone was in a bad mood, grouchy and exhausted. He hoped getting ice cream would help bring out their smiles again, even if it was winter time. He was trying his hardest to keep it together for his kids, for you as well. He thinks about you more than he likes to admit. How could he not when two of your kids are sitting in front of him? He can’t explain why he still feels the way he does about you, but he knows it’s genuine. But he’s also aware he deserves to see you happy with someone that isn’t him. He let your marriage fall apart, risking everything he’s ever cared about.
Toji also hates to admit that he thinks about your new boyfriend a lot too. He doesn’t know the guys name or what he even looks like, but he knows you wouldn’t just go for anyone. Late at night he stays up and thinks about all the things you’re doing with your new boyfriend that you did with him and jealously building up in his heart. He thinks about the way he used to make you smile and laugh and wonders if your new boyfriend is doing the same. He thinks about if he’s holding you at night, touching you, kissing you. Toji thinks about a lot of things, but the main thing that sits at the back of his mind is does he know where your heart truly lies?
That night, Toji saw it in your eyes. You almost gave into him like you did many times before. He knows it’s wrong, but he wants you back so badly. He craves you so badly. He knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows that you think about him too. Whether that be in love or hate, he knows he’s still on your mind. It’s wrong for him to want you to himself, to want all of your attention after he’s tried to rid himself of it so many times by trying to find you in other women. He was wrong to think anyone could replace you.
He doesn’t care about the arguments, about the fights, you’ll both work on that. You could scream at him, hit him, call him names, and though it would hurt, he’d still love you as much as he did before. You were his woman.
“Dad, can we get mom some ice cream before you bring us back?” Megumi asked.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He pulled the money out of his pocket, handing it to him.
“I know her favorite! I wanna buy it!” Naya tried reaching for the money.
“You’re too little, Ny-ny!” Megumi walked away towards the front counter.
“Mmmm, so mean,” she whined, folding her arms across her chest.
“It’s okay, peanut, next time you can get mommy something else.” He pinched her cheek. “Now wipe that look off your face,” he laughed.
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“Mommy, mommy!” You heard Naya’s voice as you unlocked the door. She stood there with a big grin, staring up at you. You bent kneeled to her height and she jumped in your arms. “Hi!”
“Hi, baby. Have fun?” You asked, standing up straight with her on your hip.
“I did, we got ice cream and I tried daddy’s favorite and now it’s my favorite!” She nodded.
“Oh, really?” You quirked a brow. “I thought your favorite was cookies and cream?”
“Not anymore.” She shook her head. “Now it’s chocolate fudge brownie.”
“Chocolate fudge brownie, wow, you are advancing your tastebuds, baby girl,” you chuckled, earning a giggle from her. “Go put your things away, okay?” You put her down as Megumi came walking up from the car, Toji behind him.
“Hi, mom.” He gave you the smallest smile.
“Hi, sweety.” You kissed the top of his head. “Who’s that for?” You asked, looking at the half melted ice cream in his hand.
“For you. I asked dad if I could get you one and he gave me the money. It’s your favorite,” he answered.
“Awe, thank you!” You gave him another kiss and hug. “Put it in the freezer for later.” He walked past you and into the house. “Thanks for the ice cream.” You cleared your throat, looking at Toji.
“Yeah, no problem,” he plainly responded. “I want to apologize for the other day. I stepped out of line.”
“It’s fine.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. That feeling began to settle in again the longer you stayed out here with him—feeling like it was only you two in the world. Each stolen glance a showcase of your nervousness. You were thinking about what Kento had said, to take a chance and speak with him about finding a leveling plane for you two. You wanted you and Toji as parents to work out so bad, you were tired of past problems getting in the way of what came first, but at the same time you were afraid that it was going to end up how it always did. Wherever his head was at in this dynamic was different from where yours was. “Do you think we can talk?”
“About?” He stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket, cheeks red from the cold air.
“The kids. About us as parents. I want us to find a level playing field,” you explained.
“Only if we don’t have to do it in this cold,” he chuckled.
“Right,” you laughed along with him, “sorry, come in.” You walked back into the house with him following behind you. He shut the door, removing his coat. It felt like forever ago since the last time Toji was inside your house. “I’m just gonna get the kids ready for bed and then we can talk, okay?” You stood there only a few feet from him.
“Take your time, mama.” The nickname slipped out, another habit he was trying to break, but you didn’t seem to mind. He watched you walk away down the hall. Everything inside of him was screaming not to fuck it up this time, not to say something that would cause a war. It was about your kids, about you guys as parents, a conversation that was long overdue. Hopefully, it’ll show improvement in rebuilding your family.
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