#she's glad they found the key even if it's the wrong key | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fraugwinska · 1 month

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Whoop - There it is! :> Glad to be back, folks! It's been too long, but I finished this behemoth of a Oneshot (7.1 k words FTW!) and I can't wait to see what you're thinking! Riding Alastor? ✅ Rut/Heat? ✅ NSFW? ✅ (Sorry minors!)

Thank you to @macabr3-barbi3 and also @ritualofcirice for encouraging me throughout the writing process - I'd still be rewriting and overthinking if it wasn't for you! <3 ILY

“Alastor, again?! Seriously, this has to stop. Look at the poor girl.”

“Oh Charlotte, don’t make an elephant out of a house fly – she knows it’s all in good fun, don’t you darling? No hard feelings, hm?”

You forced yourself to smile, although it must’ve looked strained, as you were still trying to get your tail to depuff.

“He’s right – no harm done, Charlie. It’s fine.”

Of course, it was anything but fine. Your whole system was still dialed in on the danger you had felt yourself in not two minutes ago. You should’ve been used to it by now. But you weren’t, and your feverish, nervous state you had been in lately didn’t help either.

Alastor had found sick pleasure in tormenting you since the moment you stepped foot in this cursed hotel.

You came after speaking to Cherri one night in the shady bar you worked at the time, not really believing that you could actually be redeemed but what she promised you’d find there: That the people there were weird but actually bearable to be around and lodging was free. The prospect of quitting your job, freeing yourself from that lewd, ambiguous boss of yours that also happened to be your landlord with a tendency to let his eyes linger too long on all the wrong places was too tempting to pass. Cherri’s latter statement was right, the room you were provided was almost as big as your flat, and the princess refused any compensation… even the meals were free. And for the first five minutes you thought her first one was, too. Charlotte Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer himself, welcomed you with open arms, and the other residents were a quirky, eccentric but still mostly friendly and fun bunch. But then it had begun – small at first, bolder by every passing day.

Alastor’s insistent, relentless, illogical bullying.

You knew about the radio demon, of course. You were neither naïve nor stupid - despite some acquaintances of yours would beg to differ - having heard and read too much about him not to be respectful yet distanced. Wary, but polite.

You were both woodland creatures, although he, despite being a deer demon, normally a prey animal, in a hilarious twist turned out far more powerful, dangerous and predatory than you. A fox demon, slender, clever and with an air of elegance and mystery around you – well, at least on the outside. The only thing you shared with your animalistic form was that you had a quick-witted, although very scattered, mind. You were a klutz, often speaking before thinking, getting yourself into trouble more often than being able to think or talk your way out of it. But you had been careful to tame that loose tongue of yours around him, not wanting to get on his bad side. And you weren’t, not in that literal sense.

You had barely introduced yourself, your new room key in hand and following the deer that enthusiastically offered to guide you to the right floor “as a good host would”, when you felt your foot being grabbed and twisted mid-step, making you tumble down a full flight of stairs. The grinning demon remained standing on the top, looking down on you with glowing eyes and a smug smile while you struggled to stand back up, your ankle sharply throbbing with pain. “Oh my, seems you are a flight risk, my dear.” He had said with a low chuckle, and if you’d usually reason that this incident had just been due to your general clumsiness, the deep satisfaction you could see in his eyes as you limped back up the stairs made it apparent that this wasn’t the case here.

From then on, stranger things just appeared to happen to you. They were slight nuisances at first, like getting locked in rooms that didn't even have keyholes or following stairs leading into nowhere, ending up in you getting exceedingly lost or terribly late to Charlies exercises, or furniture simply collapsing underneath you during dinners or get-togethers. Those incidents always were inconspicuously accompanied by the presence of Alastor, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere and with some kind of casual joke he cracked at your misfortunes, but there always was something about him that told you these so-called jokes were in a way maliciously aimed at you, more thinly-veiled accusations more than lighthearted antics.

As time went by his efforts became less discreet - he tried less and less to hide the fact that he was the cause of your various misfortunes. Things you carried with you disappeared, just to land into his hands... always personal, embarrassing stuff that he theatrically and loudly announced to anyone near before giving it back to you. "You surely didn't mean to drop this, darling, though I must say that sage green doesn't suit you at all." he had purred one time, twirling some lacy piece of underwear of yours in his hands when you had retrieved your laundry to carry it back to your room, holding it just long enough out of the reach of your panicked attempts to snatch it from him so that the whole lobby could stare in interest, pity or amusement before he finally let it fall into your hands. You were tripped even more, his shadow blatantly laughing at you from under the feet it was holding to make sure you'd fall, and his obviously faked tutting at it with that devious smile of his stung even more than the words that came with it.

"Now, now, don't look so affronted, my dear - what's a harmless prank between friends? No hard feelings, hm?"

That became a catchphrase of his - a question not so much directed towards the victim but an exclamation directed at everyone present to assure them that everything happening was harmless and perfectly okay. And you always played along.

Truth was - despite rhyme or reason – that you were infatuated with him. His witty sense of humor, that mischievous grin that set off so many alarm bells yet was oddly charming, the power and knowledge he was carrying inside him that showed on how effortlessly he handled any situation... maybe it was because he was almost everything you were lacking that you endured his relentless teasing. In addition to the respect you had for the older demon's dangerous side, the little flicker of hope in the corner of your mind that he might someday turn from 'funny but cruel' to just 'fun' if you'd prevail long enough was too strong and it became easier every day for you to try not to be bothered with each new stunt Alastor would pull, hoping that today would be the day where something in the impenetrable brick wall that seemed to be him would crack, allowing your real self to show through and find some acknowledgement in his eyes.

What had just occurred, however, had you question that hope tremendously. You had felt hot and feverish since yesterday, suspecting you'd maybe coming down with something. But as much as you tried to avoid the others as to not spread whatever disease you were cooking up, you seemed to keep running into them.

Not all of them, just the men, though.

New residents, delivery men, even Husk and Angel seemed to smell you from afar. They popped up everywhere, and you thought yourself delusional when they stood unusually close to you, were uncomfortably touchier and their eyes more intense and even hungry when they stared at you as you practically fled from them with the excuse of getting sick. The only one who kept his distance for once was Alastor, who you only saw once, with a twitching grin on his face and a dangerous aura of his shadows around him that seemed to flicker with dark energy when Julius, one of the newest hotel guests, had cornered you and put one of his bear paws much too low on your hips, suggesting to get a drink with him to cool you off. Though you had a feeling that the radio demons glowing eyes continued to stalk you, even without seeing him again. You had decided to skip dinner and just go to bed, hoping that whatever was happening to you, it'd be over by the morning.

But the night didn't bring any relief, you just woke up in more sweat and short-breathed exhaustion, filled with a dreading sense of anticipation for something unknown to you, as if your body was in constant alert mode. After checking the time, finding it close to breakfast and your stomach twisting with hunger, you made your way downstairs, hoping it was early enough for the others to still sleep and to catch Charlie alone and talk to her, not knowing how to describe the feelings you had felt but sure that somehow the hellborn princess could tell you what the hell was wrong with you. But as soon as you turned corner on the first landing base, you had felt it - electricity in the air.

In the blink of a moment, the floor became dark and gloomy, shadows creeping out from the growing void’s fraying edges, and instinctively you turned on your heels to practically fly down the hundreds of steps just in time before the deafening screech hit your ears. Every strand of your copper fur stood on its root as you panted, flaying yourself around another corner and watching a beast with familiar, yet obscurely twisted and long antlers crash into the wall behind you in frenzied pursuit. For one second too long you were frozen in place, realizing two things.

One: That it was Alastor that was chasing you.

And Two: That as soon as you knew it was him, your body reacted with a sudden wave of heat and ache, the thought of fleeing completely wiped from your mind but instead turning as if to throw itself into his waiting claws.

The momentum of the crash made him swipe at you, and without that one second too long that you would’ve needed to react, you didn't have time to dodge it. Instead, you had lost balance and fell backwards down the stairs, the impact on the tiled marble floor of the hotel lobby so loud it had Charlie and Vaggie rushing out of the kitchen and hurry towards your shocked and sprawled out, but miraculously unharmed form.

"Are you sure you're okay? You’re burning up…" Charlie asked, her hands gently rubbing the back of your neck as both women helped you back up.

"You look pretty rough..." Vaggie added, her brows furrowed. You were sure you looked like a complete mess - your hair sticking out in all directions, your tail bristled, your shirt damp and the fabric clinging to your flushed body, your pupils blown and your breath shallow.

"I-I'm fine, it's just a little fever. But, listen-"

A hand on your shoulder made you instantly mute, long, red tipped claws digging slightly into the thin fabric of your shirt, not breaking through but still stinging the flesh underneath. Its heat soaked like hot oil through the cloth down into your skin, burning its way deep into your core.

"How about I escort you back to your room, darling, as my way of apologizing for my little... shenanigans. We wouldn't want your current state to... affect the others. Does that sound reasonable?"

His voice was sickeningly sweet, almost too innocent, the smile on his face wide and his eyes twinkling in almost a warning that only you caught. From the corners of your eyes you saw Vaggie turning red with anger and ready to blow up at him, and Charlie, worriedly fidgeting with a conflicted face. If you'd stay silent, the girls surely would take you out of his grasp safely. You could escape him. Any logical mind would take that chance without second guessing, especially after what happened just mere minutes ago.

"That'd be nice, Alastor."

The walk back to your room was tense and quiet. His hand had left your shoulder, and the coldness it left behind made you want to wince. Your mind was still fuzzy and your body aflame, but as you climbed up the stairs, his tall figure close behind you, the space between the two of you suddenly felt much too large after the novelty of actual, physical contact. It just occurred to you that indeed, he had never touched you before - the pushing, shoving and teasing all done by the sentient extension of his shadow companion that followed him everywhere he went. But he had never directly touched you - until now. Innocently enough, and yet you couldn't seem to shake the weight of the ghostly hand still present on the dip of your neck. The thought alone made your tail shiver, and the sudden realization made your legs move faster, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Reaching your door, you take a deep breath. The air around you smelled musky and thick, a scent that you could've sworn wasn't there before, and the feeling of his looming presence behind you almost makes you dizzy. You turn the key with slightly shaking hands and turn as you open it, expecting him to make a snide remark and say his goodbyes for now. Instead, you don't even get to move your head before his hand returns, this time on your lower back, to all but shove you into the room, followed by him, and the loud thud and click told you he'd closed it shut and locked it, the chiming of your key on the keychain shrill in your ears.

"You seem to be in quite the predicament, my dear."

He hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, and as much as your instincts told you to back away, the fire inside you had flared up and you stood still, waiting, anticipating.

"Your little display yesterday was a nice touch. A little too theatrical, perhaps, but not everyone has the natural talent for drama like I do, hah!"

He chuckled, coming to a halt barely a foot in front of you, his eyes gleaming with something you had seen before, but couldn't name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice level.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't play coy now, little vixen. You weren't really discreet in your search for a willing mate, but I thought you'd at least show some decorum not to flaunt your pheromones like this." You stared at him, a bit dumbfounded and the gears in your brain turning much too slow.

"...Mate? Wh-what pheromones? What are you talking about, Alastor?"

He blinked, tilting his head. His gaze was piercing, and yet you could've sworn he had a hard time keeping it on you, as if he wanted to look anywhere but at you. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them.

"How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

You were unable to speak. You had known that something was off yesterday, when the men started crowding around you like vultures, their eyes hungry and their approaches over-eager, but not once had the word 'heat' come up in your mind. You had been in Hell for not even nine months, not exactly long enough to really explore all its nuances and differences. You had only heard the term 'heat' being used before in relation to animals – which, in hindsight, you technically were, in a way. Your ears and cheeks burned and your head was swimming, your tongue like a dry piece of sandpaper in your mouth.

"H-how did you... why did you..."

Alastor sighed, taking a few steps towards the windows. "As I said, darling, you weren't very subtle. And neither were the buffoons that stumbled over their own feet trying to make you choose them. The smell of a vixen in heat is hard to resist, after all." His head fell back, and the expression he wore when he looked at you was both frightening and intoxicating. "And the scent that clings to you is absolutely divine."

His words made you blush and shudder, the ache between your thighs growing so embarrassingly strong you quickly tore your eyes from him and looked at your hands that were fumbling with your damp shirt. He hadn't even touched you, but your body was already begging for him, as if it knew his presence would be the solution to all your suffering. Why were you reacting like this to him, and not the others that had swarmed you yesterday? It made no sense, none of it did.

"Why were you chasing me, then?"

The question escaped you before you could bite your tongue, and he turned around, a brow raised but his smile wider now and the smug amusement that was so habitual of him returning to his eyes .

"Well, my dear, you were running."

He laughed at your expression of shock and dismay, obviously proud of himself as you opened your mouth and closed it again and again, no words leaving it. You watched him raise his hand up as a means to silence your inevitable ramble, to stop you before you were even able to find something to say. "Although I have to admit that I quite lost myself a bit in the heat of the moment - pun intended. Which brings us back to topic."

He was closer now. Not fully in your personal space but in the almost invisible borders between friendly distance and invading closeness, arms behind his back and a mocking grin on his face.

"Now what will you do, little vixen in heat? Unlike our earthly counterparts, demons in heat stay in it unless they've bred sufficiently - Oh no, it'll only become worse the longer it’s avoided. Do you have one of the many low-rank rutting sacks that are roaming about the hotel just for a chance to fill you up in mind to sate your needs? Most of those unworthy imbeciles would happily spread their seed into you, but - Oh dear, where's the fun in settling?"

You couldn't think straight. You knew what he was insinuating but couldn't bring yourself to truly understand and accept the gravity of the situation. It felt too much like a dream, your mind foggy with fever and every nerve and muscle in your body aching. You knew by now that your mind had chosen the one you wanted long before your body forced a decision. But despite the painful want you were scared of saying it out loud, just to be rejected. Left wanting. The perfect and most cruel tease he could use against you yet, delivered by your own damned nature.

Alastor clicked his tongue, pacing from your one side to the other like a shark in the span of your thoughts that slowly began to settle, rubbing his chin in false contemplation. Your eyes followed him absent-mindedly, and when the whirlwind of your thoughts quieted for a moment, you saw with shock that pearly beads of sweat began to form under that fiery fringe of his hair and the fingers tapping on his chin twitched ever so slightly.

“Well, your scent certainly tells me what you seem to be unable to. But good things only come for the ones that ask for it, darling.”

Again, the tingling that started to become oh so familiar shot down to your belly with the heavy pull that the glint in his eyes had on you. Maybe it was the primal need you felt playing a trick on you but something in his composure, normally so perfectly put and stoic, struck you as hastier and more unrefined. The barely hidden jerk of his ears, the slightly glossy sheen in his eyes, and that intensifying smell of musk and moss and spices oozing from him all were subtle but noticeable telltale signs, just small imperfections in his person, tiny cracks of his façade that grew larger and louder the longer he was alone with you. And finally, they began to speak a language you knew.

Without knowing the details, you became aware, sensing that he, too, wasn't nearly as collected as he liked to present himself. As if the fact that he was here, alone in the room with you was enough to allow him to slip up, ever so subtly and most certainly not intentional. You had noticed from day one that it was nearly impossible to truly get a read of his emotions, an impressive trait you envied to some degree. Yet, the most rational part of his brain appeared to have shut off when his pupils widened ever so slightly as you closed the distance between your bodies, finally throwing caution and fear and hesitancy to the wind. It was a leap of faith.

"I… want you. If..." Your voice was shaky and breathy, and everything in you wanted to pounce him, touch him, bite and scratch and bind him to you, but you resisted, both scared and excited for his reply, the space between your trembling bodies paper thin. "... if you'll have me."

Before your brain could really register what's happening, his smile became predatory, his red irises swallowed almost completely by his dilated pupils, making the blackness appear brighter than his naturally glowing eyes, the shadows around him writhe and grow.

"Oh, I indeed intend to have you, little fox." he cooed, an echo-like echo mixing in with the static of his usual voice. It sounded wrong, demonic, but it lit a flame of pure want within you. It made you frantic in the need to touch him, and the first and only thing your trembling fingers could grasp was his red coat, the instinct you acted on so intense you ripped the fabric from his shoulders and sent buttons flying as your hands sprouted black claws.

For a second, you were blind with panic but his dark, rumbling laugh eased the fear, your head tilting up as he lifted his taloned hands, moving over your head and dragging the tie and the suit jacket along. He held your stare as the two items landed next to you on the floor and his head tilted, a silent, cocky, knowing approval of the first piece of your real, raw self he had gotten to see, and the gesture made you almost break from under his hands as they went back into motion, hungrily peeling the sweat-damp shirt off your back. He was quick yet careful, but when you felt those sharp claws of his scraping over the curve of your back you couldn’t stifle the wanton whimper they drew from you.

He shrugged the remaining pieces of shredded, crimson fabric off his shoulders and pulled on the sleeves of his ripped dress shirt, seemingly not as affected or distraught as you by having lost almost all of its buttons in your careless undressing of him, and it had you lick over your fangs that poked through when your senses became clouded with desire.

His skin faded seamlessly into soft, thin fur right under his clavicles, spreading over his lean chest and arms and towards his flat, toned belly and his hips, where it began to look like it continued on his legs but was covered by the high waisted pants of his immaculate dress outfit. Hypnotized by his alluring form, you barely noticed how quickly he took piece after piece of your clothing off of your sweaty body, the fire in you fanned by the mere feeling of his sharp fingertips dancing over your hot skin, until there was no fabric left to take off. You only realized you were completely nude once he pulled your head up to face him by your chin, his grin glistening as if he was salivating at the view of you - and it drove you mad. His other hand reached around you, finding the base of your bristled tail, long fingers raking through the fur and pulling teasingly on it.

"What a fine specimen of a vixen you are, darling..."

You don't give him time to crack any more jokes as you wrapped yourself around him, rubbing your head against his neck with a growl in a primal need to rub your own scent into him, marking him, wanting him - no - needing him and him only to ease the infernal heat bubbling inside you. The only one worthy, your instincts were telling you, and the thought was taking a hold of you, dragging you down whether you wanted or not. The sheer feeling of his exposed chest brushing against yours was almost overwhelming and your hips instinctively rutted against his, begging and silently pleading for him to fulfill his duty as your chosen mate. A chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, roused from him as he gripped your shoulder with eager force, throwing his weight into you and pushing the two of you the last couple of steps you've still had left onto your bed. Your hands found their way into the soft, maroon fur of his ears, his silky scarlet locks and down his lean, muscular back, clawing and pulling and kneading as the urge to ruin him just as he was ruining you became overwhelmingly powerful and undeniable.

"Aren't we eager now? So desperate to be bred."

A tight tug on your copper fur, which drew an unexpectedly lewd and desperate sound from you, tore your eyes away from the straining, bulging fabric of his pants, where they had previously been staring for a moment too long, your wide blown pupils reflecting his. With your cheeks, chest and shoulders flushed, you saw that a faint pink colored his features, which darkened more the longer he was looking you up and down, the large hand on your side flexing, scratching and kneading every inch it could reach, as if he was still trying to collect himself.

"Y-You don't look too u-uninterested as well." you stutter as his warm lips trailed over your collarbone and down to your nipples, softly sucking one while his other hand twirled the other between his talented fingers, the pinch deliciously painful. When he flicked his tongue out and you yelped at the intense, electrifying and unbelievable feeling he shot into you with that single, simple move, his laughter vibrated against the sensitive flesh between his lips and you swear it's the first time you ever heard him really, genuinely laughing - a deep and powerful and sincere sound. You can feel it throughout your whole body and soul and something within your mind flickers to life - as if his laugh had recharged a part that had been turned off and numb during all of your times in Hell so far, only now to feel truly alive, you and Alastor’s souls intertwining and connecting in a way you had never believed possible before.

"Finally growing into your fangs, I see. Well, if that's the case then..."

He moved swiftly, shifting his weight and pulling you with him, until your places were reversed and you sat on top of him with his hands on your waist pressing you down, down, down - the clothed bulge pressed against the junction of your thighs. A heady moan was ripped from the depth of your throat as your sex ground down against the coarse cloth of his pants, the delicious friction all the more tantalizing for the simple fact that it wasn't nearly enough.

His pupils were huge, black circles with ticking dials in them, nearly completely swallowing the rich crimson, and his normally discreetly hidden antlers sprouted with loud cracks, growing exponentially with each new sound that broke the seal of your lips, each buck of your hips or twitch of your thighs.

"... prove to me how you deserve to receive my seed."

As the words fully hit you, all blood rushes downwards and your body responds on its own. Your mouth latches on his, not sweetly, not gently - wetly, harshly, the clash of tongues and fangs drawing blood, iron and spice spilling in both of your mouths as a new wave of hot arousal wets your center, seeping into his pants.

With both clawed hands planted on his chest you could feel every single tremor, twitch and move of his - the furious pulse of his blood running under your fingertips, the shudder as you breathed his name against the heat of his jugular - you wanted to memorize, tattoo each second into your mind because despite the hazy frenzy you found yourself in it didn't elude you that this might be a once in an afterlife time thing. The thought pained you, and you felt tears prick in the corners of your eyes, which went completely disregarded by both you and the one so voluntarily trapped beneath you.

His claws raked up and down the smooth, soft skin of your sides, tracing every inch and curve and divet and painting them with red streaks, before he finally - FINALLY - moved them to his belt, the clinking sound of his buckle opened music to your ears. The buck of his hips in an attempt to get his slacks to slide lower, his soft grunt as his cock sprang up when he freed it from its clothed confines, it all drove you even madder, his powerful aura and the heaviness of his swirling shadows tipping and bending your senses as you desperately sought to draw out more of these delicious sounds, more of that want that was so obvious now in his eyes and staggered breath.

You lean forward as your tail whipped and shivered as it stood up bristled in arousal, almost losing your balance for a second, bracing yourself on his bared chest as your tongues, teeth and lips crashed together again. Jolts of white-hot electricity shot straight down to your core at the feeling of the damp tip of his cock catching on the wet and slick opening of your folds. A slow drag upwards and your nails clawed over his pectorals and ribs, his throat answering to your touch with a deep, feral growl, almost beast-like as he slid effortlessly up between your lower lips, the combined juices that leaked from his and your loins slicking the hard length. He didn't let you sheath himself into your throbbing heat though, as if to test you, and you whined as you lowered yourself onto the length of his shaft, rutting slowly on it to satiate the hunger that seemed to only grow.

It was merciful torture, a tease you didn't mind for once as the tip of his cock hit your clit every other slide and the vibration of his taunting purrs traveled throughout your spine, leaving behind a tingling burn. It had you toss back your head, the drool hanging from your lips, completely involuntary but curiously not ashamed of it.

"Al-Alastor, please...I need..." You whined, half out of breath and delirious as the sensation of his tip pushing up against your entrance just didn't seem to be enough, the emptiness inside you demanding to be filled. The very corners of his mouth twitched as he stared up at you, your hips rolling helplessly against his, panting and moaning and begging.

"Need what, darling?"

Your brain was foggy with lust, your fingers twitching as you leaned backwards, your claws digging so deep into the soft fur of his chest that they drew blood, and the fire raging inside you wild and untamable. You wanted to speak and plead, to make your tongue cooperate and to say all the right things, to seduce and coax his shaft to fill you the way you knew only his would, but his sultry yet rough voice seemed to have put a stop to whatever reasonable and rational thought that had somehow still remained. Eloquence eluded you in this desperate state, and the only words leaving your gaped mouth were broken and hoarse.

"Mate me. Fill me. Breed me."

"There's a good girl..." he rasped, one clawed hand firmly squeezing the side of your waist, while the other brushed the thin line of tears, sweat and drool hanging from the corner of your agape lips before holding his swollen cock straight for you to impale yourself on it with a moan.

"Take all of me in, little vixen, show me you are worth it. There you go..."

The stretch was blissful, but not as much as the euphoric waves crashing down on you once your greedy core had swallowed up the entirety of his length, your velvety insides clamping down on the girth the way a vise would. His sly coaxing sent another surge of raw, primal and animalistic passion rippling throughout your body, and with strange triumph you felt him experiencing the same kind of exhilaration, making you mindlessly jump forward and down to fully grind yourself down on his member with all the leverage your thighs provided, while simultaneously his strong grip on your waist and him bucking up into you in that sinfully precise way allowed for him to immediately slam right into your most intimate spot, burying his entire shaft into your dripping, welcoming heat.

Falling in sync was shockingly easy, his muscles as responsive as yours and your bodies molding together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. He thrusted upwards with a force that took your breath away, forcing the air of your lungs to flow out with the repeated bounce and pressure, your ears ringing with the rhythmical slap of skin against skin. Relentlessly, minute after minute passed, and he cruelly ripped you away from tipping over the edge multiple times, your sanity tearing at the seams whenever he slowed you down on his throbbing cock.

In and out, up and down, faster and faster your two bodies worked together and his thick tip and tantalizing ridges brushed all too perfectly against every right spot as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes roll back and the need to cry out his name through desperate sobs over and over and over again became unstoppable, each time a little less distinct and a little more wild than the last.

"You are quite the noisy little one, aren't you? ǤØØĐ. I do love the way you scream my name." he so much as growled as you did exactly that when his fingers gripped on your hips even tighter, his hold more firm as he forced your trembling, exhausted frame up and down, each new hit a bit harder and deeper than the previous one, his entire body tensing as he picked up the speed to a feverish and merciless intensity that had you cry out with pain and pleasure alike.

"β€Ǥ for your release darling, tell me who you want to be filled by once again."

"A-Alas...tor! I'm- fuck... please, let- I w-want only y-ou..."

It was all too much - too hot and too big and too deep, too close and too far away - thick, hot tears joined the sweat and drool that ran down your face. You wished it was over and yet that it would never end, that you could stay frozen like this for the rest of eternity - filled and aching, burning and melting on him, giving and taken from. You were broken, yet pieced together at his hands, and all of a sudden, just like that, he moved you up and his cock felt so much thicker than before this time. With one last violent push he pressed you deep into his lap - You screamed as you felt something swelling inside you, interlocking the both of you as he came right when your own vision turned first white, then black while you mercifully collapsed on top of him, finally being allowed your long-craved release. Hot seed painted your insides and made your toes curl, his cock twitching deep inside you as he gasped through the last ropes of thick and warm release. It lasted and lasted, his hand frantically stroking over your spine and down your whipping tail while he shushed you and purred praise after praise into your folded ears.

It took a few long moments for the fog to clear from your mind before you realized you had buried your nose and mouth into the crook of his neck, teeth sunken in his taupe flesh and fur unconsciously. You dared to turn your head enough to watch his face - his eyes had returned to their usual shades of red, and the engorged branches of his antlers were slowly retracting back to the small, hook shaped ones nestling at the crown of his head. He was still smiling, wide and satisfied and superior almost. You gingerly retracted your fangs from his neck, but when you attempted to unmount him – rationality, and with it shame, creeping back into your consciousness - Alastor's arms locked firmly around your bare frame, rendering you unable to move.

"So eager to get rid of me, already?" he cooed, a chuckle rising from his chest. "I wouldn't advise to move yet, my little vixen - Not while we're knotted."

"We're... knotted...?!"

He nods, and you follow his intense stare down to where you and him were still connected. Sure enough, you couldn't make out his shaft itself but a noticeable bump stretching the flushed lips of your sex impossibly wide, the sight causing you to gasp and tear your eyes away in shameful realization. A tidal wave of blood flushed your cheeks - partly due to arousal, but mostly because of embarrassment and confusion, and you willed yourself to stay calm and not to freak out. When you looked back to him you found him grinning, his expression the picture of amusement but there was something tender in the glimmering ruby eyes that looked up to you. It felt strange that even though you were sitting on top of Alastor, you still felt small and submissive to him, how much dominance and assertiveness he could hold even in a position like this.

"How long...?" you managed to ask, avoiding to look at him by turning your head aside, staring at the mess of ripped and torn cloths on the carpet.

"How long?" he echoes, but there's a pause until he hums a dark and pleased sound, "Well, darling, your guess is as good as mine. Despite what you may think, I've never knotted with anyone before."

You thought your heart would jump from your chest and flutter through the room when his hand softly petted the base of your fluffy tail before his knuckles ever so lightly traced the line of your back. His other arm still held you tightly, and his fingertips danced over the heated skin of your side, the soft caresses a sharp contrast to the way he'd handled you only a few minutes prior. You were overwhelmed by the sheer gentleness and intimacy, the vulnerability it made you feel, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

"Relax, my little vixen. You've been so good for me, so now let me service you while we wait."

Too stunned and overstimulated to respond you feel his mouth licking and kissing along the various bruises and cuts scattered over your chest and torso, his hands soothingly stroked every inch of your sweat-damp body, tracing the lines of the scratches and welts he had left on your hips and waist while he still managed to somehow hold you still. Every touch and kiss had your tail bristle and quiver, a whimper leaving your throat, but he didn't stop until his lips were pressed to the pulse on your neck, the steady and heavy heartbeat drumming against his nose and chin.

"You know, I knew you'd come to your senses and give in to my advances eventually, darling. Although I didn't think it'd take you to get into a heat to finally admit it."

"Your wh-..."

He latched onto your breast, sucking a little too harshly on the sensitive nipple as if that’d answer your unfinished question, and the yelp that tore from your throat turned into a moan when his teeth raked over the nub before his tongue flicked out, soothing the pain he had caused while your head swirled in confusion.

Advances?

What did he mean, advances?

All he had done since you two met had been taunting and teasing and chasing and ridiculing you... right? Another sharp bite on your sore bud had you gasp, partly by pain but also by epiphany.

Like a boy on the playground, pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, Alastor had tormented you, chased you, tripped and caught you, waiting for you to get the hint - No hard feelings, hm?

All this time, every day and any second, in his own weird, twisted way, he had been showing a perverted version of affection and pursued you.

You weren't sure how to react, what to feel - there was too much to wrap your head around and no way in hell you'd be able to sort through it all right now, with his cock still locked inside you and his lips wrapped around your breast, still teasing, still taunting. Although now, with the context you were given, you welcomed it, wanted it even. The more you thought about it the more it all fell into place, and his actions towards you suddenly felt less and less like harassment and more like a tremendously badly executed attempt at wooing. But it was oh-so in character for him, the enigma that was the Radio Demon, and you would've laughed if his ministrations on your chest and his gently swaying hips wouldn't have coaxed your body slowly but surely steer into yet another, but softer - almost lazy - orgasm.

"You are... o-oh god... the biggest p-pain in the ass, Alastor…"

He laughed, another genuine and carefree one, the vibration of his voice tickling your flesh as you came again with a pitiful moan and he let go of the rosy, pert nipple to lift his head, the soft and tender smile and the glint of his sharp teeth a sight you knew you'd never be able to forget.

"That's what they all say, dear."

Tag, you're it! - @diffidentphantom @sirens-and-moonflowers @tayraedoll @catticora @valerie-is-in-the-cupboard as well as my fab four (whose fics carried me through my unavioidable vertigo pause)

LOVE YOU @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes and @synamartia <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #quickfics #hazbin smut #alastor smut #bottom alastor #rut fic #sinner in heat #bottom al is still in charge #dumbest flirting ever #better a few broken bones than a broken heart #Alastor is good in aftercare

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iluvmattsbeard · 5 months

Text

older (m.s)

master list

student! matt sturniolo x professor! reader

warnings: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing

preview: 18 year old student Matt is a freshman in college. you are his professor who is 28 years old. Matt is a phenomenal student. but during lectures, he can’t help but check out his professor, fantasizing about you. you tell him it’s unprofessional for you to pay more attention to him than any other student. you also tells him you're too old for him which, he tries to prove to you you're wrong.

*not proof read*

a/n: i’m doing a collab with @mwahsturns ! go check out her version of Matt being the professor, click here ,this is my version of the reader being professor! i’m so glad I had the opportunity of working with her. she is lovely and absolutely amazing overall. i hope to do this again. if anyone would also like to collab with me in the future, let me know!

even though Matt was pursuing his YouTube career with his brothers, Matt wanted to do something on his own. in videos, he is known to spread light on mental health and anxiety. as he did some research, he found a community college that fit his standards. he wanted to major in psychology and hopefully see where it takes him. his brothers supported his decision and he couldn't be anymore excited. he enrolled himself and got in immediately. today was his first day and he was currently packing his back pack. "are you sure you'll be able to handle all of this?" his brother Nick asks. Matt was in the middle of shoving his books in his bag, "yes Nick. i'll be okay. i'm just going to see if this is right for me. if it's not, then i'll stick to YouTube." he responds while zipping up the bag in front of him.

"okay I was just making sure." Nick says getting up from the bar stool in the kitchen. "alright, i'm all set. i'll see you guys later." Matt says putting on the back pack and picking up his car keys. Chris and Nick both say good bye to him and he walks out, heading to his car. as soon as he put the address in his navigation, he noticed the estimated arrival time and muttered under his breath, "fuck." it was not going to be a good first impression he thought. when he finally got on campus, he headed straight to his class. he got to the door and opened it, walking inside to see all the students turn and look at him. "you're late." he hears a woman say. he turns to look at you. you had your back facing towards the class as you wrote something on the whiteboard.

you turn around and he locks eyes with yours. "what's your name?" you ask walking over to your desk. "Matthew." he says eyeing you. "okay Matthew, you may take a seat. I'll let it slide since it's your first day." you respond looking up from your computer to catch his stare. Matt nods and walks to an empty seat. he didn't expect his professor to look the way you did. he looked at the board to see your name. "miss L/n..." he whispers to himself. Matt kept his eyes on you as you spoke, "Matthew, you can ask the person next to you to copy their notes that I previously had up. go over it and try to catch up okay?" Matt nods and does as you say. as he took notes, he couldn't help but get distracted by the professor. your white button up shirt with your hair both placed in front of your shoulders, your long black pencil skirt, stockings, and black heels. he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

as time went by, Matt was always on top of his work. his focus was always there in lectures. he didn't really find the subject of the class all that interesting but, his professor was all he cared about. he wanted to stand out and to do so, he needed to focus on what you were teaching about so he could stay on top. Matt was never good in school but, this was different. after one of the lectures, he decided to stick around as other students left. "is there something you need Matthew?" you ask looking up at him. he was still sat in his seat as he clears his throat, "i'm having a little trouble accessing some material at home." he says lying. "let me take a look." you suggest to him. he gets up and walks over to you with his laptop. "you can call me Matt by the way." he adds on as he places the laptop in front of you. you smile a bit, "good to know." you respond and looks at his screen.

you began to open up the material that he claimed wasn't working. you look at him, "are you sure it wasn't working at home?" you ask. "it wasn't last night. I guess you have the magic touch." he says causing you to laugh, "I guess so. anything else you need help with?" you ask. he shakes his head, "not that I know of." he says taking his laptop off the desk. he starts to walk away but you call out to him, "wait Matt." he turns around and looks at you, "yes?" he asks. you stand up from your chair and smile, "I just want to tell you i'm highly impressed by your work. every single assignment you turn in, is beyond what I ask for." you complimented him. Matt grins before speaking, "I am being taught well." you laugh, "thank you. that just means i'm doing my job." you say clasping your hands together in front of you.

as more lectures go by, he couldn't help but start to fantasize about you. he started to imagine how he would look impressing you with something else he's good at beyond his assignments. the way you spoke, he could just imagine the way you would whisper in his ear. Matt would eye your buttoned shirt and imagine how he would undo it. his thoughts were soon interrupted by the professor clearing your throat, "Matt?" you call out. he gulps and looks up at your eyes instead of your blouse, "make sure you're paying attention." you say tapping on his desk before walking away. after class, you ask him to stick around. "are you okay?" you question him. he was sat across from you, "yes i'm fine. why?" he asks. you laugh a bit, "I could tell your mind was wondering off somewhere else. I just wanted to know if something was bothering you." you say as he stares at you. "oh yeah, i'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to." he responds.

"that's okay, just let me know what's on your mind next time." she suggests. Matt nods and it stays quiet for a bit. "how'd you get into teaching?" he asks breaking the silence. "it's a long story." you say laughing a bit. he has this blank face as he speaks, "I have time." your smile fades a bit as you let out a little breath, "well, it wasn't my first choice. I wanted to pursue in something more creative but to my parents it was more of a dream than a reality. I decided to get into education and well here I am." you continued to ramble but he catches you off guard with his next question, "what's your name?" you look at him, "that's a sudden question. my name is Y/n but don't get use to that." you say. "how old are you, Y/n?" he asks curiously and boldly. "none of your business." you respond as he grins, "i'm just trying to get to know you." you hesitate but eventually tell him, "i'm 28." you mutter out.

"are you married?" he asks making your eyes widen a bit, "no but, that's a very personal question. this is starting to get inappropriate." you say getting up from your chair. Matt gets up as well, "it's inappropriate to try to get to know you?" he asks. you turn to look at him, "it's inappropriate because i'm your teacher. i'm not somebody you need to know better." you respond. he puts on his back pack and smiles, "only innocent." he says walking out the classroom leaving you standing there alone.

a few days later, you were at your desk grading assignments as you notice Matt's work getting sloppy. you ask him to stay after class and he does so. it was all apart of his plan. "Matt, your recent assignments have been painfully hard to grade. you were doing good not too long ago, why are you being lazy with your work?" you ask in a serious tone. "i'm not quite sure. why don't you want me to get to know you?" he asks catching you off guard. "Matthew, we're talking about your work here." you say wanting to stick to the serious conversation. "are you scared Y/n?" he asks making you fix your posture, "it's miss L/n to you." you remind him. "answer my question. are you scared you might enjoy talking to me?" he says. "it's inappropriate." you say repeating yourself from last time. "is it inappropriate to ask what you like to drink?" he asks tilting his head a bit with a small smile.

"mainly iced coffee." you answer hoping to move on from the conversation, "now can we talk about your work?" you ask hoping he would cooperate but, he gets up and puts on his back pack, "i'll fix it." he says before walking out leaving you once again, in shock. you sat there wondering why he was acting the way he was.

the next day, you had your back facing the class as you wrote a check list on the board. as soon as you turned around, you do a double take of the iced coffee that was placed on your desk. you look up from it, eyeing Matt as he just grins and looks away to unzip his bag. unbelievable you thought. after the lecture, you ask him stick around as everyone else leaves. "Matt, don't start this." you say sternly. "what? I can't get you coffee for being a good teacher?" he says with a sly smile. you sigh, "that's nice of you but I know what you're doing." you say with your arms crossed. "what am I doing?" he asks not taking his eyes off of you. "you're trying to flatter me." you mutter out. he laughs and puts on his back pack. he looks at you up and down and greets you good bye as he walks out. "what are you up to..." you whisper to yourself.

when Matt arrived home, he began to do his assignments. "how has school been?" Chris asks before taking a sip of his Pepsi. Matt's eyes stayed on his computer, "not much to talk about." he says. Chris rolls his eyes a bit, "nice talking to you." he says. "there is this girl." Matt lets out. "who?" Chris asks now very interested. Matt looks at him, "none of your business." he laughs to himself as he remembers you telling him that. "then why bring it up?" Chris says with a blank face. Matt just laughs again and shakes his head.

the next few days, you start to notice Matt's work going back to being astounding. how is that possible? how did he do it so quickly? Matt continued to get you iced coffee every day. other students were starting to notice. as you sat there, you continue to look at Matt's work and you started to put the pieces together. the coffee, the inappropriate behavior, and he was purposely being sloppy before. you shut your computer as you look at him already staring at you. you felt a sort of shiver go down your spine as this look was different. his eyes were captivating in a way that made you feel disappointed in yourself for even thinking that. you look away and begin your lecture. after, you ask Matt to stick around once more.

"were you being sloppy on purpose?" you ask standing in front of his desk. "maybe." he responds with the same sly smile like always. you let out a sigh, "Matt, why are you doing this?" you ask. "doing what?" he asks trying to be innocent. you turn around and pick up the iced coffee on your desk, "the coffee every day, you wanting to get to know me, asking personal questions, and now I realize you were purposely trying to stay after class." you let out making him lean back in his seat. "and the question you asked the other day. if I was scared that i'll enjoy talking to you? seriously?" you add on.

he looks down and shakes his head with a smile. "what is so funny?" you question with your arms crossed. he looks back up at you, "do you really want to know?" he says. "yes I do." you respond waiting for him to explain. he sits up a bit as he places his arms on the desk, "I think about you constantly." he pauses for a bit, "do you think I wanted to fantasize about my professor?" he asks. you uncross your arms and gulp, "no one asked you to." you say. he laughs a bit, "yeah well I do. you make it hard for me to focus." he says making you look away, "then maybe you should transfer into a different class Matt." you suggest.

"are you sure you want that?" he says making you look at him. it stays quiet for bit as you both locked eyes. you look away quickly and turn around, "I can't do this." you say walking up to your desk. Matt gets up and walks behind you. you stop in front of your desk, placing your hands onto it. Matt gets closer behind you as he presses up against you slightly. you look ahead of you as you felt his presence. Matt moves your hair away by tucking it behind your ear as he gets closer to your ear. you gulp as you stand still, "are you sure you want me gone from your class Miss L/n?" he whispers in your ear. you felt a shiver roll down your spine, "i'm too old for you Matt." you whisper still looking ahead of you. "I'm of age you know." he lets out. "i'm still 10 years older than you..." you reply but he just continues, "just because I'm young, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle you." you let out a breath as he starts to run his hands on your waist, down to your hips.

"i'm your professor Matt..." you whisper. he smirks, "I know. but I can also teach you things." he says turning you around. he steps closer as you lean a bit against the desk, "like what?" you ask looking into his eyes. he picks you up by your waist as he places you on the desk. he was now standing in between your legs as he looks down at you, "I can teach you what it's like to feel good." he whispers. you gulp without breaking eye contact, "Matt..." you whisper back. he places his hands on your face as he pulls you in slowly, closer to his face. your lips were nearly touching, "tell me, do you want that?" he asks. you were filled with mixed emotions. the way you two were, if someone walked in, it would've been obvious what's about to happen. Matt rubs your cheek softly, "use your words." he says in a low tone. his words became more demanding as his eyes grew dark. "teach me then..." you whisper out. he immediately presses his hungry lips onto yours as he kept his hands on your face. your hands were placed on the desk as you leaned into the kiss.

you knew this was wrong but, it felt so right. Matt moves his hands down to your thighs as he places a good grip on them. he pulls you closer, making his grown erection touch your core. you moan out quietly from the sudden action as he then starts to unbutton your shirt slowly as he continues to kiss you with the same eagerness. you buck your hips a bit against his clothed cock as he finally got your shirt to come undone. he then pulls it open, moving it behind your shoulders. now you were mostly revealed at top as your blouse was low on your elbows.

he moves his lips to your neck as he places wet kisses, he begins to suck your skin as he finds your sweet spot, causing you to throw your head back a bit as your eyes went shut. Matt then moves away and looks down at your skirt. he pulls it up slowly, revealing your black lace panties. he begins to kneel down as he pulls them down. you look down at him as he makes eye contact with your wetness. "already so wet for me." he says before moving his head closer in between your legs. he spreads your legs apart slightly as he started to work his way to lick your folds.

your breathing started to go uneven as you let out a breath. he began to tongue the inside of your entrance as you kept your eyes on him. you ran your hand through his hair as you moan quietly. you don't remember the last time someone pleased you. he starts to run his tongue up and down your entrance as your eyebrows furrowed, making your mouth open slightly. the mixture of the wetness of his tongue and your natural wetness was driving you crazy. his tongue worked like magic. he then began to flick his tongue onto your clit as he stuck two digits into your core. you moan from the stimulation as your thighs started to close in. Matt looks up at you as he watches your face change from the way he was moving. his fingers started to go in and out of you as he then started to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit.

you grip his hair even more as you kept eye contact with him. he was loving the view he had. the way your mouth kept letting out beautiful noises, he knew he was living up to his words. you buck your hips, wanting more from him. he removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls away. he stands back up and licks his lips. "you seemed to enjoy that." he says. "you're looking like you don't mind anymore miss L/n." he lets out as he starts to unbutton his pants. you look at his crotch as he pulls down his pants with his boxers. you felt yourself in between your legs ache. you needed him badly. he strokes his cock as he makes you look at him in the eyes, "do you still think you're too old for me?" he asks, "look how hard you made me." he adds on.

he then grabs you under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he rubs his tip at your entrance. "M-Matt..." you whine out. "if only you could look at yourself right now. not so inappropriate now huh?" he says with a grin. he then pushes himself into you as you throw your head back from the way he began to stretch you out, "fuck." Matt moans out lowly. you moan at the way he started to thrust slowly. you didn't know if you could take all of him but, he made sure you did. he starts to thrust harder into you as he pushes himself deeper into you. you wrap your legs around him as you pull him into a kiss. he kisses back as he now starts to pound into you. this made you moan in between kisses. your one hand rested around his neck as the other gripped behind his hair.

"keep it down." he says while going back to kiss you, muffling your moans. you shut your eyes as you melt under him. he loved the way he was stuffing you right now. he was finally fulfilling his imagination. you started to push against his thrusts as he gripped your thighs. his thrusts were deep, making your eyes fog up. you didn't know it was possible to feel this good. especially, from your student. he pulls away from the kiss, biting your lip softly. he pushes you down onto the desk, causing some stuff to fall off. he puts your legs together as he continues to thrust at a fast pace. you cover your mouth as you moan into your hands. the position he had you in hurt so good. "fuck i'm going to cum." he groans. "m-me too." you moan out. he spreads your legs and places his thumb on your clit as he started to rub in circles. you were a moaning mess as you gripped onto the edge of the desk.

Matt then releases in you after one last hard thrust. you both cum at the same time. he thrusts out his high as he pulls out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. he grins feeling accomplished. you sat up on the desk as you caught up with your breathing. Matt pulls up his boxers and pants, buttoning it back up. he grabs his back pack and puts it on. he looks at you still on the desk as he smiles, "i'll keep this a secret." he says before walking out.

a/n: turned myself on 💀 LIKES, COMMENTS, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

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frudoo · 2 months

Note

I really like your writing! I'm so glad I found your page. I was wondering if I could do a drabble or little one shot ask about the 141 boys (poly or individual doesn't matter either way) I just had this idea because there's so many ideas about the boys not thinking they're good enough for their girl but what if it was the opposite way and I was wondering what you'd think their reactions would be.

The idea is that their girl is on the phone with her friend thinking they can't hear her talking (maybe they were asleep or out for a run or something) and her friend asks how things are going with them. Their girl full on gushes about the boys to her friend and her friend is like "oooo sounds like love to me! Have you told them yet?" And their girl is like "I... No of course not...They can't love me, I couldn't possibly expect them to."

This is long but thank you for listening to me ramble!

PLEASE I got so sappy with this one I just couldn't stop my fingers from typing. Also you're such a sweetheart <333

Warnings: Mentions of self-doubt, food, mentions of sex. Fem!Reader. MDNI.

Kyle Garrick:

Kyle’s had a long day, and the man just wants a proper cup of tea. He starts down the hallway, but when he hears his name coming from your room, he stops dead in his tracks. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help but crack your door open to eavesdrop a bit.

“I’m telling you, he’s perfect! When I have a bad day, he’ll take me out for coffee, or we’ll go for a walk or just look around the pet store. Sometimes he’ll even do my laundry! It’s- it’s not a crush anymore. I’m in love with him,” you ramble on to your friend, who’s giggling with glee over the speaker of your phone.

“Well, have you told him?” She questions excitedly, and you go quiet for a moment.

“Of course I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not… it’s not like he feels the same. I’d just be hurting myself,” you reply sadly.

Kyle frowns deeply, and he’s almost positive he can physically feel his heart breaking. God, he’d rather fall out of another helo than ever hear you sound so distraught again. He wants nothing more than to barge into your room and pull you into his arms, kiss away all your doubts and prove to you just how much he loves you. Instead, the sound of your voice brings him back to reality.

“I think I’m gonna grab a snack. It was good talking to you,” you hang up the phone and open your door, surprised to see your roommate standing right there. “Kyle! Shit, did- did you-? I’m so-”

“Y’mean it?” Kyle asks softly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed.

Even so, you sheepishly nod your head, unable to meet his eyes. His warm hands cup your face and lift your head up to look at him, and he smiles so warmly that you can’t help but do the same.

“Silly girl. I love you, too.”

John Price:

The base was dead today, barely any paperwork to do or new recruits to train. For the first time in months, John was able to get off on time, and he decided to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite Indian food. When he arrives at your flat, he uses his spare key to unlock the door and steps inside, kicking off his boots—ever since that one time you playfully lectured him on keeping your home clean, he’s engraved the rule into his brain.

John sets your gifts on the island in your kitchen, glancing around for any signs of where you could be. You’re definitely home, he can tell that much by your keys dangling off the holder and your own shoes by the door. He carefully steps through the hallway and hears your unmistakable voice in the bathroom, along with the quiet sound of running water. He goes to turn the handle but decides against it when he hears his name slip from your lips.

“God, I love John so much, you don’t understand. He’s everything I could ever want. Every time I see him, I just- I wanna kiss him stupid, y’know? I mean, shit, he’s already seen every part of me since he’s my best friend and all.”

“So… when are you gonna tell him? It sounds like he’s interested, babe,” your friend’s voice rings through your phone. “Best friends don’t normally just see each other naked.”

“Oh, stop it. There’s no way he could feel the same. I’m just… I couldn’t ask that of him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

John’s heard enough. He trudges back into the kitchen and fixes your plate of takeout, as well as a glass of wine and some chocolates. He arranges the food on a tray and brings it back to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before walking inside. You scream, and normally he would laugh, but he’s so hurt that you think you’re unworthy of his love, and he’s dead set on proving otherwise.

“Do you always scare the shit out of people you’re trying to surprise?” You laugh, hand resting on your chest as if it’ll calm your beating heart.

“Only the one I’m in love with, sweet girl.”

Simon Riley:

“M’gonna step out for a smoke, love,” Simon informs you, and you nod politely.

The coffee shop is a little too crowded for Simon’s liking, and he needs a break. Your company is the sweetest he could ask for, and he feels bad leaving you for even a second, but the demons in his head were begging for an escape. Still, he stands by the window where your table is located just so he can keep an eye on you. Call it a weakness, but when he sees you messaging your friend, he can’t tear his eyes away from the conversation. Thank the heavens for the little slip-up the café made, having the one-way windows installed inside out.

yeah he’s like,,, stupidly perfect

it’s like he’s trying to make me lose it???

like sir i’m already in love with you

what more do you want

lmaooo why haven’t u told him yet????

he’s obviously in love with ur dumb ass too

oh fuck off

you know we’re just friends

don’t give me hope

Simon frowns deeply, tossing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his boot. He’s spent his whole life in shackles, deeming himself unlovable, unworthy of anything good or sweet or kind. But when he met you, those thoughts dissolved like melting snow—he even took the mask off for you. He didn’t even know it was possible to love somebody so much, so to have the one person he adores more than anything in the world doubt herself? He won’t have it.

He reenters the coffee shop in a hurry, long legs striding over to you as quickly as possible. Before you can even react, he leans down to press his lips against yours, hands firmly on your face to keep you still. When he pulls back, he’s near tears looking at your shocked expression.

“I don’t love y’like a friend. I love y’like a man loves his wife, like you’re the air I breathe. I’ve always been yours, y’hear me? Always.”

Johnny MacTavish:

Johnny’s expecting to feel your warm body beside his when he wakes, but instead he’s met with the soft thud of his arm onto the unoccupied sheets where you should be. He frowns and rubs the sleep from his eyes, checking his phone—it’s only 4:00 in the morning, and the sun isn’t even out yet. You’ve obviously not been in bed for a while, and it worries him. Did you leave in the middle of the night, all by yourself? Shit, what if something bad happened to you?

Johnny hops out of bed and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, starting a frantic search through his house. You’re not in the bathroom, or in any of the spare rooms, not even the sunroom where you love to cozy up and read a book. The last place he thinks to check is the kitchen, and lo and behold, there you are, brewing some coffee and talking on the phone to someone. Your best friend, he realizes, when you put the call on speaker to pour yourself a cup.

“It’s just… last night, he told me he loved me, and it- I don’t know. It ruined me. I couldn’t even finish, I had to fake it.”

Johnny freezes and leans against the door frame. His stomach feels sick suddenly—did he really fuck up that bad last night? God, he knew he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he figured there was no better time to confess his feelings for you while he was… well, inside of you. He really thought you felt the same. Your little sniffle drags him out of his thoughts, and his eyes land on your now crying figure once again.

“N-no, you don’t understand. I know he just said it because of the sex. I’m not… he couldn’t love me. Not the way I love him. We’re just friends who happen to sleep together sometimes. It’s my own fault for catching feelings when he- he deserves someone so much better,” the break in your voice destroys Johnny and all he can do is listen as your best friend calms you down.

He doesn’t make a move until you’ve hung up. Only after you’ve set the phone down does he come barreling in, wrapping his strong arms around you, ignoring your shriek of surprise. Johnny pulls back to cup your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the fresh tears that managed to slip past your waterline.

“Ye’re the only one ah want. D’ye understand? Ye’re the only one fer me. Ah meant wha’ ah said, hen, ah love ye. There’s no’ a force on this earth tha’ could make me want ye less. Ye’re mine, alreit? As much as ah’m all yers.”

#hahaha why am i crying #ask me!#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod x reader #fem!reader

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negansfavlucille01 · 1 month

Text

NEIGHBOR

Negan × f!reader

Summary: Y/N's noisy neighbor, Negan, throws another party while she tries to sleep, so she makes yet another complain, which leads to his dick deep in her

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, Negan being an asshole noisy neighbor, choking, rough (not so rough) sex, enemies to sex buds...?

Word count: 2,5K

Choosing a new place to live was kind of hard. How many tries it took to find the perfect apartment? Y/N didn't know herself. But she found it and decorated it in her style. When she moved in, some of the neighbors brought her cookies, pies and whatnot else as a "welcome to the building". Most of them were nice, old people who were already retired. She was glad she had finally found a place where all the neighbors were nice... Or she thought. Until she met Negan. He was the man living above her apartment. With all the parties he threw, Y/N had to go ask him to quiet down many times, but he always kept being loud. None of them liked the other. She even wondered how the old ladies liked him and always talked about what a "great young man" he was. What was so nice about him? He always looked grumpy and mad at the world. She had to admit, he was pretty good looking, but that wasn't an excuse for being an asshole. Later on, she learned he was a baseball coach. How could someone so grumpy work with kids? It didn't sit right in her mind.

Work was hard that day and Y/N was tired. Her shift finished in half an hour and she couldn't wait to get home and take a hot bath. After what felt like forever, her boss walked into her office and announced that the work day was off. Y/N quickly closed her laptop, grabbed her bag and left. Friday was over, no more work for the week. What could go wrong? Oh, of course... It was Friday. There was no way the dickhead above won't have friends over. So, no. She wouldn't be able to relax. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not the next day. As she drove her car into the parking lot of the building, she noticed Negan getting off his motorcycle and taking off his helmet. He looked so good with messy hair. No. She couldn't think like that about someone who had zero respect for people. She thought about saying hi, but didn't. Instead, she walked past him like he didn't exist.

"Oh, you don't know me now? And people say I'm fucking rude..." He smiled arrogantly and started walking next to her with his helmet in hand. He walked faster and passed her. Reaching for the front door, he opened it and walked in the building. He wasn't the gentleman the old ladies said he was and didn't hold the door for Y/N. It closed right in her face and she sighed heavily and searched for her keys in her purse.

"Gentleman, my ass. What a moron..." She unlocked the front door and walked in, impatient to get to her apartment. Life, though, wasn't on her side because one of the two elevators was taken and Negan was already walking to the other. She sighed quietly and walked towards the elevator, getting in with the devil himself. She could feel his judgmental look on her. What was the dudes problem? She brushed it away. Going up to the sixth level wasn't long, but with Negan there, it felt like she was getting old waiting. She got home, took off her make up, poured herself a glass of white whine and got in the hot bath. She relaxed for about 30 minutes before getting out. Drying her body with a soft towel and laying down in a robe, reading was great, until something from above made a loud thud. "Not that fucker again.."

The noises continued, relentless and unyielding, a constant barrage that chipped away at her sanity. At first, it was just the occasional creak or thud, but as time went on, they grew more frequent, more insistent. And then, as if the noises weren't enough, loud music started blaring, the kind that shook the walls and vibrated through the ceiling. Desperate for relief, she tried everything she could think of. She would sit cross-legged on her bed, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths, trying to keep herself from going up and murdering Negan. She switched to listening to her favorite music on earbuds, tried sleeping with two pillows pressed firmly over each ear, the soft fabric muffling the world outside, but it wasn't enough. No matter how she adjusted or what she tried, the noise was still there. She finally accepted that sleep was beyond her reach. After hours of tossing and turning, trying every trick she knew to drown out the relentless noise, she realized there was no point in continuing the fight. Y/N didn't even bother getting changed from her robe when she walked out of the apartment. She got in the elevator and got on the next level, ready to kill Negan if necessary. She reached his apartment, her frustration bubbling over as she raised her hand and knocked on the door loudly, the sound echoing down the hallway. Her patience was thin, and she was ready to demand that he quiet down, the words already forming on her lips as she stood there, bracing herself for the confrontation.

Here's a slightly longer version of that text:

The music lowered slightly, as if someone had finally noticed the knock. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a man with a disheveled appearance and a bemused expression. He glanced her over before turning his head back inside the apartment. "Hey, Negan," he called out, a hint of amusement in his voice, "there's a hot chick standing here."

Negan strolled over to the door, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. But as soon as his eyes landed on her, the smile abruptly faded, his expression shifting to something far more serious. "What can I do for you?"

She shot him a glare, her frustration evident as she glanced past him into the chaotic scene of his apartment. Music still hummed in the background, and the remnants of the party were scattered everywhere. "Well, I'm sure you're not surprised," she began, her voice laced with irritation, "but I'm gonna need you to quiet down."

Negan raised an eyebrow, then shrugged nonchalantly. "No worries, the party’s over," he said with a hint of amusement as about twenty people began to stream out of his apartment, laughing and chattering as they passed by her. He turned back to her, leaning casually against the doorframe. "If the noise bothers you so much, why don’t you just move?"

She folded her arms and met his gaze defiantly. "I just switched apartments to get away from the last set of noisy neighbors. Wouldn't it be easier if you weren't so loud?"

Negan smirked, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You didn’t bother changing out of your robe, love?” he asked, his tone teasing, his mind clearly wandering to inappropriate places. He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze drifting over her lazily. “I like it. It’s cute... suits you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to be flustered by his playful remarks. “No, I didn’t,” she replied, her voice steady as she met his gaze without flinching. “I wanted to sleep, but your party was in my way.” Her words were firm, her frustration evident, but there was a hint of something else in the air between them—a tension that neither seemed willing to acknowledge, yet neither could ignore.

Negan's teasing grin softened as the tension between them thickened, his gaze locking with hers. Without another word, he stepped closer, closing the distance between them. She didn’t pull away when he reached out, his hand brushing her cheek before he tilted her chin up slightly. Their breaths mingled, and then, almost hesitantly, his lips met hers.

The kiss started slow, a tentative exploration, but quickly deepened as their frustrations melted into something else entirely. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer as she responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair. The pull between them was undeniable, electric, and before they knew it, they were stumbling toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss as they crossed the threshold and fell onto the bed together. As they tumbled onto the bed, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet, dimly lit room. Negan’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss grew more intense, driven by a mix of lingering frustration and unexpected desire. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, while her fingers traced the contours of his shoulders, feeling the strength beneath his skin. Their breathing quickened, the moment charged with a shared urgency. Negan shifted, rolling them over so she was beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he gazed down at her with a hunger that made her heart race. The teasing smirk that usually played on his lips was gone, replaced by something far more serious, almost vulnerable. For a brief second, their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them, a silent acknowledgment that this was more than just a fleeting moment. Then, with a low growl, he claimed her lips again, deepening the kiss as his hands slid under her robe, exploring the soft skin of her ass.

She arched into him, the last remnants of resistance melting away as they surrendered completely to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. His hands moved expertly, pushing the robe off her shoulders and letting it fall away, revealing her bare skin to his eager touch. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his torso, before descending on her again. Negan’s lips and hands were everywhere, worshiping every inch of her body with a fervor that left her breathless. She gasped as his mouth found her breast, sucking and teasing the sensitive peak with his tongue while his hand slid down her stomach, finding its way between her legs. His fingers moved with deliberate, tantalizing slowness, driving her wild with need. She moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, craving more of his touch. Negan obliged, his fingers slipping inside her, finding her wet and ready. He groaned against her skin, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on her. "You like that, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breathless plea. "I need you."

Negan grinned, his eyes dark with a primal hunger as he looked down at her. "Then you’ll fuckin' have me," he promised, his voice a low, rough whisper that sent shivers down her spine. With deliberate slowness, he reached for his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he unfastened it. His gaze never left hers, the intensity in his eyes making her heart race. He took his time, letting the anticipation build as he slid the belt out of its loops and tossed it aside. With a confident smirk, Negan unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing himself from the last of his clothing. He stood there for a moment, completely exposed, letting her take in every inch of him. His cock was huge, about 8 inches and thick, veiny. Then, without another word, he climbed back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers as he prepared to fulfill the promise he had just made. He entered her with a forceful, eager motion, not giving her a moment to adjust before he began moving with a powerful rhythm. "Fuck, that pussy is tight..." His thrusts were fast and driven, each one filled with a raw, unrestrained energy that matched the heat of the moment. The room was filled with the sounds of their shared passion—the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, their breathy gasps, and the creaks of the bed.

"Negaaaannnn...!" She cried out, the tension getting to her. She was close and he knew it. The way her pussy was squeezing him, the way her legs shook, the way her eyes rolled back and her mouth hung slightly open. He reached down, rubbing her clit, his hard thrusts never stopping, but only getting harder. Some men liked doggystyle because they had control of the situation, but Negan wasn't that man. He loved missionary. What wasn't perfect about this position? Tits bouncing, eye contact, seeing the persons face, their legs shaking and so on.

“Yeah, come for me, baby,” Negan growled in a low, throaty voice, his breath hot against her ear, his hand going to her throat, taking away her breath. “Soak my fucking cock...” His words were rough, filled with a mix of desire and command as he continued to drive into her with a relentless rhythm. The sensation of her walls tightening around him only fueled his passion further. He grunted with each thrust, the intensity of their connection building to an almost unbearable peak. His hands gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements as he pushed them both closer to the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he let out a primal groan, the tension within him releasing as he came deep inside her. The moment was charged with raw, unfiltered pleasure, leaving them both gasping and trembling in the aftermath. He collapsed next to her, his breathing heavy.

She turned to look at him, her expression a mix of exhaustion and amusement as she caught her breath. “Can you be quieter next time?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge.

Negan’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction as he chuckled softly, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze meeting hers with a teasing glint. “Oh, if we do this again,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll make sure to be as quiet as a mouse.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he added in a low, conspiratorial tone, “Wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors, now would we?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head as she snuggled closer to him, the playful banter a pleasant counterpoint to the earlier intensity. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that,” she replied, her voice softening as she nestled into the warmth of his embrace.

Negan’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Alright,” he said, his tone more sincere now, “I’ll keep it down. Just for you.” His smile was genuine as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, the earlier fervor giving way to a more relaxed, intimate moment between them.

#jeffrey dean morgan #jdmorgan #negan #negan smith #the walking dead #twd #twd negan #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan smut

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simpingland · 1 year

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Love is patient.//Aegon Targaryen II x wife!reader.

Moments before the coronation, Aegon's wife recalls her first memories with the Prince. Patience was key on this journey to make things right. And this patience let love to grow easily between them.

A/N: angst, Diane's assault does not happen here because It's the only way I can write this. TGC is the loveliest person ever, im(r)o.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

The first time you saw Aegon drunk was the first time you met him. And you knew from the start that the journey you were being forced into would not be an easy one. The prince was a little older, but a single word came out of his mouth, and you were the one who felt mature. The glory of the Targaryens, with their distinctive faces, their airs of divinity, did not show in any of Aegon's features. His mother scolded him for cutting his own hair on the very day your chariot pulled into the Red Keep. He gave you an awkward kiss on the hand and talked more to his brother Aemond than he did to you during the entire presentation dinner. The night was a disaster. You almost fell asleep in your own seat, with not a single charitable soul to speak to you.

"It's your duty," your father had told you over and over again. "You have a good chance of being queen."

"You don't need to scare her," your mother corrected him. She took your hand for the last time and said the words that were always echoing in your head. "He is a difficult man, and I understand that. But love can be many things, my dear. This love may be patience. Be patient and patient to welcome the good things with joy and to know how to overcome the bad things with peace of mind. Just...be patient."

Very few lords attended the wedding, and not even Rhaenyra and her family came to the ceremony. And you were glad to think that few were those who saw the humiliation of not receiving a single kiss from your now husband. When it was all over and the feast began, the music filled the room with joy, with Aemond and Helaena dancing, while your siblings found different partners to share the song. And all you had was Aegon beside you, who wouldn't let go of his cup for a second. From the corner of your eye, you could see that this drunkenness was unlike any you had seen before. He was faded, his eyes clear and glittering with sadness.

"Aegon," King Viserys trudged over to your seats, and you alone rose to pay him a courtesy. "Why don't you take your beautiful bride out dancing? By the gods, you'll bore her to death sitting here!"

You wanted to say you didn't have to, but contradicting the king was very wrong of you, and lying to yourself was also a bad habit. You really did want to dance, and you really did begin to die of boredom. When you looked at your groom, you saw him turn to look at you, his eyes still half closed, heavy with alcohol. Still, he stood up and offered you a hand. Your walk to the centre was full of applause.

"I warn you, I am not in my best powers of coordination, my lady," he warned you himself in a whisper.

"I hadn't noticed, my lord," you gave him a half smile, his hand dropping quite a bit into yours.

When the music began, the song was perhaps too lively for what you would have wished, and certainly for what Aegon would have wished as well. His steps were clumsy, and the rhythm of the music was too lively for what you might have wished. His steps were clumsy, and the pace was beginning to make him dizzy. He stepped over a few lords, and when he had to approach you, he would push you back by accident. Already bordering on embarrassment, you could see your parents blushing and looking at the scene with concern. And you could also see Alicent and Otto look at Aegon angrily. The old king looked confused.

"I can stop this," you whispered to him when you had him close.

"No," he replied. "I'm being a good husband."

Then he danced on. And soon what he was waiting for happened, Aegon fell to the ground. Everyone held back an exclamation, some of them hiding their laughter very badly. The prince was slumped on the floor, and before long he was vomiting up what was only wine. The sight was pitiful. One of your sisters approached you, as Ser Criston and Alicent approached Aegon. And when your sister tugged you away from the pool of wine, you broke free, moving closer to the prince who stirred slowly on the floor.

"My dear, you'll stain your dress," Alicent said.

"Let me help, Your Majesty." You replied.

With a handkerchief borrowed kindly from a nearby lord, you wiped Aegon's face and let him lean on you to slowly rise. His hands rested on your shoulders and yours on his arms. His face was red, and he seemed to regain some sense of shame.

"I think you should rest for a while," you said. He nodded.

And then Criston took over, putting the Prince's arm over his shoulder and leading him out of the room. Alicent walked behind, and as they walked away you could see Aegon turn his face to look at you. With a last glance at your family, you followed the Queen's path, straight to your husband's chambers.

"I asked only one thing of you, Aegon, just one," Alicent was saying to him on the way. She seemed to hold back quite a bit in your presence.

Criston left him sitting on the bed, and Aegon tried not to fall into it as his mother spoke to him.

"Tomorrow we will talk further." And then he turned to look at you. "I'm so sorry about this, love. I will tell the guests the bedding will be private."

"Oh, thank you, Your Majesty."

When Criston and Alicent left, they expected you to follow them as well, but you stood in the room.

"Have you not been shown to your rooms yet?" Alicent asked, quizzical.

"Yes, yes, I've located them... but I'd like to stay here a while longer. It's our wedding night, isn't it?" You sounded totally nervous but determined.

Alicent could only nod and force a smile before leaving with her knight. As the doors closed, you could hear Aegon finally collapse onto the bed.

"I wish to give you no offence... and the gods know I am the most willing man to do our duty that you will ever meet," Aegon said, and it was the sort of compliment you should learn to accept. "But tonight, I do not think I have the strength to achieve our goal," he said.

"I was not here for it, so I will take no offence."

Aegon turned his head to look at you, and he seemed much more alive than before.

"That's a pretty dress," he reached out to brush the fabric of the gown. "I'm sorry you got it stained with...my vomit."

"Don't worry, my prince. I could never wear it again."

You heard a laugh from him, which even startled you. But it was tender and unexpected, and it made you proud. Aegon repositioned himself better to give you a place on the bed and tapped his side, asking you to lie down beside him. Before you did, you picked up a tray of fruit and filled a glass of water. And before you lay down, you offered Aegon the water.

"The Maesters say that alcohol should be compensated with water." You watched as Aegon sat up so he could drink his glass without choking. And though he hesitated at first, he ended up drinking it whole and with need.

"I did not remember the taste of water..." he put the glass back in your hand. "And it's a disappointing taste."

When you finally lay down beside him, Aegon enjoyed the fruit on the tray, offering you some grapes.

"Is it always going to be like this?" You asked. He stopped chewing to look at you. "This humiliation. Are you going to be drunk every day of our lives?"

At your hurt tone, Aegon did not know what to answer, but he sounded remorseful, trying to compose an apology or some excuse. He swallowed his food before speaking.

"I have never had reason to be sober, my lady. No one has given them to me."

"Is your mother not worth it? Is your father not worth being proud of you?"

"What my father wants of me is very different from what my mother wants of me. I will never do well in their eyes."

"And at what point is it a much better option to wander around the castle blind with alcohol?"

"It's the only thing that makes me forget how useless I really am."

You couldn't help but run your hand over his face, trying to get him to look at you. His eyes were shining again, but they seemed much more alive than in the room.

"We all have our duty to do. And not all of us are good at it, but we all try."

"You seem like a person suited to this kind of life."

"I'm responsible. I like to think I am, at least. But don't you dare think that I don't wish I was somewhere else right now, with my horse and music nearby. I don't like to pour water to drunk men or stain my clothes with their vomits. But I do it because, somehow, It's now my duty. I will fulfil it for my family's name's sake. I would like to start a family and I will need your help to protect it. Just as you are going to need mine. It is what I believe is right."

You watched as Aegon nodded. He stroked your hand on his face and got out of bed to rummage through his wardrobe. You watched as he stumbled over his own mess but managed to pull out a long white shirt. He left it on the bed for you.

"This will do, so you can change into something clean." He stood expectantly.

"I already have clothes to change into in my rooms," you turned him down, but with a coy smile.

"Oh... all right," he looked disappointed. He looked sweeter than you had ever seen him, still dressed in his groom's robes. His suit was blue and gold, like his dragon Sunfyre. He went to pick up the shirt when you changed your mind, placing his hand on top of it, preventing him from pulling it away.

"Although...I don't trust my sense of direction around the castle in this darkness. Do you mind if I stay?"

"No..." You saw a soft smile appear on his lips. "Not at all... you are already my wife."

You changed in a dark corner of the room, and though Aegon said he would not spy on you, you caught a glimpse of him slyly rolling his eyes, trying to make out your figure in the gloom. The shirt made you look rather unattractive, in your opinion, but the loose hair and lack of tight fabrics made you feel so comfortable that you forgot all about your appearance. Aegon also shed the tight jacket and breeches and was left in a camisole similar to your own.

"Thank you for lifting me up in the hall..." he said after you had mocked the dreadful attire you had witnessed throughout the day. "It's not the first time I've fallen down. But it is the first time someone has helped me as tenderly as you have helped me."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry I humiliated you."

"I don't want your apology. I want you to promise me that you will try to change."

"And how can I change?" He sounded surrendered.

"With patience."

"I'm not patient, I'm afraid."

"Well, I am... I'll share some with you."

"Oh no... you're going to make an annoying wife, aren't you?" He joked, making you laugh. "You're going to ask me out dancing a lot. And I'm going to have to greet a lot of gentlemen and lie about how pretty their wives are..."

In the comfort of shirts and bed, a few hours passed as exhaustion begged you to sleep, not yet having consumed the marriage. You granted him a kiss on the lips. They were the taste of one and figs. After that night, it took you a long time to even set foot in your room.

The days passed more quietly, with Aegon showing you his favourite parts of King's Landing, trying to avoid the whorehouse, though you knew he had visited it a hundred times. You never reproached him, for since you were married, he had hardly left your side. In fact, he was the annoying husband. He asked you a thousand times to fly over Sunfyre. The only thing you insisted on was that he should not refill his wine glass during lunches and dinners. It was as simple as holding his hand fondly as he approached the decanter. The next day, you noticed that the lack of hangover manifested itself in long expeditions to which you went half-dragging. Soon, you understood what Aegon meant by his father's wishes and his mother's. Viserys enjoyed Aegon's Aegon. Viserys enjoyed the more talkative, joker, and absent side of him, the one who was a good spare heir behind Rhaenyra and her children. He barely paid him any mind, always reminiscing about his eldest daughter and his late wife. Then there was Alicent, and close behind her was Otto. The Hightower wanted in Aegon the malice that could reside in him, the malice that wanted more than to be a prince. They compared him incessantly to Rhaenyra and to Aemond, who was younger than he was, and therefore even more humiliating.

On nights when you returned from those uncomfortable dinners, Aegon would become extremely nervous, and you could not stop him from asking for a large flagon of wine. Your words did him no good, but you remembered your mother's advice. You had to welcome bad things with patience. And you watched him drink in front of the fire and asked a guard to watch him when he moved drunkenly around the castle. The next day, you helped him freshen up with a bath and get rid of the horrible headache.

On one of the nights when it happened again, you went to extreme measures before he ordered his alcohol.

"Perhaps a walk with Sunfyre will clear our heads, Aegon."

"'Our'?" He looked at you quizzically.

When you nodded, his face changed completely, and in the dead of night, he asked for his dragon to be prepared for a ride. Aegon was so pleased that he barely noticed that you were terrified. And you didn't say anything, of course, you liked seeing him so happy. Sunfyre was beautiful and quite a good boy, but that didn't take away your terror at the heights he could reach.

"Come on, wife, the tingling in the stomach is what makes it fun."

"I disagree."

As he laughed at you, he put your hands around his chest. He was quite a fit man, and over the past days and flirting, you found yourself more and more wanting to touch him and hold him close to you. Perhaps the dragon was a good idea, after all. Sunfyre led you to Kingswood, a place you mentioned you had never seen. And the whole flight was spent in places whose names Aegon made up to distract you, surprising you with the absurdity of the game. There was the odd surprise pirouette that he couldn't avoid, making you scream and squeeze him. But all in all, it was quite fun.

It was in the forest where you wandered, talking about unimportant things that kept your mind off all the crowns and iron chairs. It was that night when you consummated the marriage. You gave him the kiss that set it all on fire, the deepest kiss you had ever given each other. And he continued it with even more passion, clearly the more experienced of the two. He undresses you right there, and you undressed him as well. In the soft grass, only the moon could see you become one at last. You awoke at dawn and returned to the Red Keep with red faces and dishevelled hair.

"You're glowing," he whispered to you before he had to leave you to attend a meeting, pulling away your hair to give you a kiss on the neck.

All those memories flashed through your mind as Aegon leaned against the carriage window, on his way to be crowned King, his sister unbeknownst to their treason, his father recently dead, and war knocking at the door. They had dressed you too, and the thought of being queen made your stomach churn more than it already did.

"I'm afraid," Aegon suddenly confessed to you. "I'm not going to be good for this."

"I'm afraid too..." You took his hand. "We have to be smart, Aegon. We must protect ourselves."

"You should run while you can. I can order Ser Arryk to send you away... until all is safe again."

"No!" The thought horrified you. "I can't abandon you. We need you."

You brought your hand to your belly. You watched as Aegon's eyes widened with surprise.

"Gods..." he knelt before you, his head close to your knees, the din of the city seemed to hush inside the carriage. The light through the windows rattled on your skin, and the scene seemed like something out of Aegon's imagination.

"We must flee."

"It is too late now." Tears were falling, and your husband wiped them away, overwhelmed. "They won't let us scape this, you know that."

The carriage finally stopped, and Aegon had to bolt the door, which would only hold the guards for a second.

"Then, wife, I will do my true duty to protect our family. But as you said that day, I need your help...it is what I believe is right. Let us have hope. Never before I have felt this love for anything. Never before has anyone ever shown me as much love as you. I'll do everything in my hand to keep us safe. The only thing that matters to me is you and everything that involves you. My only friend is you."

Trying to regain your normal breathing, wiping your cheeks, you nodded as Aegon gave you a kiss on the forehead, another very soft, slow kiss on the cheek, which you couldn't help but drop your face to his touch and essence, and a kiss on the lips. Before removing the latch, he gave you a last kiss on your belly, making you giggle.

A look of complicity and a final sigh to enjoy a moment of peace before your heads held the crowns.

#game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd x reader #hotd aegon #hotd imagine #hotd #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #tgc #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x oc #angst

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 4 months

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13: NEW BEGINNINGS

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky are finally able to admit your feelings to each other.

Word count 3.4k

Warnings: confessions of love, Sam being the best wingman (pun intended)

It had been a long and difficult week, filled with painful rehab sessions and slow progress. But finally, you were starting to feel more like yourself again. Your voice was still weak from disuse, but you were delighted to hear that the doctors were ready to remove your tracheostomy tube. It was a small victory, but it meant that you were one step closer to recovery.

Despite the progress, you found yourself getting tired easily and napping often. It was frustrating, but you knew that it was all part of the healing process. The physiotherapists had refused to let you wear the speaking valve after they discovered that you had some trouble the previous night, rendering you speechless for the day.

What worried you more was the fact that Bucky, who had been by your side throughout your ordeal, seemed to be spending less and less time with you. You couldn't help but wonder where he went when he wasn't with you. Old insecurities started to resurface, and you found yourself questioning whether Bucky's feelings for you had changed now that you were getting better. The tenderness and care that he had shown you in the beginning seemed to be fading, and it left you feeling lost and confused.

As time ticked on, you couldn't shake the feeling that Bucky was pulling away from you. You suspected that he was going to see Priya, after all, she had made it abundantly clear she wouldn't give him up. The thoughts had you rebuilding the barriers that had come tumbling down after your injury.

Sam was by your bedside this afternoon. Listening to him chatter about Cass and AJ's most recent antics. He chuckled at the reason that Cass had received detention, but you had zoned out and looked surprised when Sam started laughing.

He looked at you with concern filling his beautiful brown eyes. “What's up with you? Not feeling good?”

“Sorry,” you mouthed at him.

“What's wrong, little bug?”

You pulled out your phone and sent him a text. It took a moment for Sam to understand that you had sent the message to him.

“Oh right. Thought you were ignoring me for a second there,” he chuckled, reading the words on his screen.

>>>> I'm okay, just tired.

“Tired, huh? And here I thought you might be lamenting over a certain broody super soldier.”

You gave him a solid deadpan stare, before your eyes involuntarily flicked towards the door, as though the mere mention of him might summon his presence.

>>>> I thought things were better but…

What you wanted to say was ‘I can't shake this feeling that Bucky’s pulling away from me.’

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

>>>> He's been spending less and less time with me.

You stopped yourself from adding ‘and I can't help but think he's going to see Priya.’ To your surprise, Sam texted you in return.

Sam << Have you talked to him about it?

>>>> No. How do I even bring it up? He’s with her, right?

Your mind said ‘he's choosing her over me.’

Sam dropped his phone with exasperation. “Cricket, that's not true! Bucky loves you more than anything else in the world.”

You rolled your eyes.

>>>> How do you know?

“Because he told me. Isn’t that good enough?”

>>>> I don't know if I can believe that unless it comes from him.

“You need to talk to him. Communication is key in any relationship.”

>>>> You sound like an online therapy programme.

Sam guffawed.

“Honestly, I'm kinda surprised by how quickly you forgave him for all the shit he gave you. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm glad you two are friends again but...”

You were surprised by Sam's openness. Natasha and May felt the same way, you were sure, but it was shocking to hear it from Sam who was usually more of a diplomat. It wasn't as though you hadn't thought about all the things that had happened between you, but you couldn't seem to let him go.

>>>> I was scared, Sam

>>>> And he was there and I…

You pressed send, even though you didn't know how to express the sentiment. Despite everything that had happened between you, you still craved his presence in your life. Sam put a comforting hand on your leg.

>>>> I thought I was going to die

>>>> I know, I know. Being an Avenger and being scared of death. Dumb, huh?

>>>> Even after everything, the thing that scared me more was that I might never see him again

>>>> I just don't want to push him away again

“I'm all for team Bucket but I think he has some groveling to do. But trust me, he won't go anywhere.”

You scrunched your face in confusion and mouthed ‘team Bucket’ at Sam.

“You know, Bucky and Cricket, it's a ship name. Look, that was all Tony!” Sam shrugged as you giggled silently. “Just talk to him, okay?”

>>>> Okay, I'll try. Thank you, Sam

“Anytime. Just remember, Bucky cares about you more than you know.”

>>>> I hope you're right. Thank you for being here for me

“Always. Now tell me you’ll talk to Bucky. Everything will work out, I promise.”

>>>> I will. Promise

Sam looked up from his phone to see you holding out your pinky finger for Sam to wrap his around. As you sealed your pinky promise, Sam kissed you on the forehead. “Now get some sleep, you look like you need it.”

As you opened your eyes the following morning, you saw Bucky was back at your bedside. He looked tired and worried, and there was a hint of relief in his eyes as he saw you wake up. Clearly he had come back the previous day, but you had fallen asleep before his arrival. He handed you the speaking valve for you to clip onto your tracheostomy tube.

"Why’re you still here, Bucky? Everything’s fine, you should go home and get some rest," you said, voice filled with concern.

"Trying to get rid of me?" he teased, a cheeky grin gracing his lips and lighting up his tired features.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. "Mostly because you look homeless right now," you replied.

Bucky chuckled. "Peachy. I give your voice back and it’s straight to the insults."

"Hey, you know you love me!" Your eyes shone with affection.

Bucky blushed and smiled. "Can’t deny that," he admitted.

“Really Buck, you don't have to stay. It's not your responsibility. I'm a big girl, I have to learn to take care of myself,” you said softly, your voice tinged with sadness.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding yours. “You know, you and Steve are exactly the same. He used to say that to me a lot after his mom died,” he observed, finally meeting your gaze.

You nodded, understanding dawning in your eyes. “Yeah, he has a hard time accepting help,” you agreed, a small smile playing on your lips.

“But I'm here for you, Cricket. I want to help you through this,” Bucky said earnestly, taking a step closer to you.

You looked at him, your heart torn between wanting to believe him and the fear of being hurt again. Bucky had let you down before, and you couldn't bear the thought of going through that pain once more.

"What, when you feel like it?" you asked, your tone bitter with the hurt and disappointment you had been feeling.

Bucky's expression fell, and he looked down, shame coloring his cheeks. You could see the regret in his eyes, and a part of you softened at the sight.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," you said sadly, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

But then, Bucky looked up, determination shining in his eyes. "Cricket, I promise you, I will always be here for you. Always," he vowed, reaching out to take your hand in his.

You hesitated, unsure if you could trust his words. "Except when you're mad," you pointed out, your voice tinged with skepticism.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you even know why I was angry?" he asked, his tone pleading for understanding.

"Because I didn't get you a dumb birthday gift?" you replied, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion.

Bucky shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Cricket, why’re you like this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

"Like what?" you countered, feeling a surge of defensiveness rising within you.

"You've been lying to me for months," Bucky stated, his voice gentle but firm.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. "I don't know what you want me to say," you admitted, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"What's going on in that head of yours? Just help me understand what you're feeling," Bucky urged, his gaze filled with concern and a hint of frustration.

Bucky's heart sank as he watched you avoid his gaze, preferring to fiddle with the strings on your hospital gown. He had never seen you like this before, so vulnerable and distant. He knew he had to get to the bottom of what was troubling you, no matter how difficult it may be.

Bucky reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Cricket, please talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.

Taking a deep breath, you let go of your defenses and allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Bucky. "I’m sad," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bucky took your hands in his. “That’s good… that you’re telling me this, not that you’re sad. Can you tell me what’s making you sad?”

“That things aren’t like they used to be… with us.

“And this is because of Priya?” he asked, cautiously.

You nod, taking a deep shuddering breath, knowing that if he asked you a direct question, the truth would come out and it terrified you. But you’d been hiding it for too long and it was eating you alive.

“You don’t like her?”

“I didn’t have any specific problem with her… up until your birthday.”

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

You looked up at him curiously.

“I found the gift you got me.” Bucky moved closer to you, so he was sitting beside you on the bed, still holding your hand. “And I read the note.”

“Yeah?” Your heart was pounding with fear and anticipation.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What you wrote… I… I don't think anyone has ever done anything so special for me before?”

“What, not even Steve coming to Azzano to break you out of a Nazi prison?” you joked, trying to divert attention from yourself.

Bucky chuckled. “Stop deflecting.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Pop Psychology. Who suddenly gave you a masters degree in psychotherapy?”

“What you said… did you mean it?”

You frowned, not a hundred percent sure of what he meant.

“In the message on the birthday card,” he clarified seeing your confusion.

“Every word,” you answered earnestly.

“I’m sorry for what happened… with Priya.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” you shrugged.

“But I was the one so ready to believe that you didn’t care about me. After everything we’ve been through together, I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”

But another question was plaguing your mind. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“About what Priya did.”

“The same day that you were hurt. I was coming to find you when Steve got your message. I just got back from that mission with Sharon.” His voice tailed off, knowing what your next words would be about.

“Why were you on a mission with Sharon?”

“Because I asked Steve to assign me a different partner,” he mumbled.

You nodded, as he confirmed your suspicions. “Of all the things that’ve happened, I think that’s the most hurtful thing you’ve done.”

“So you just decided to leave? Without saying a word?” He couldn't keep the sourness from his words.

“Who was I supposed to say it to? You were acting like I didn’t exist. You didn’t even say goodbye when you walked away from me. What if something happened out there?” Your eyes filled with tears again. “What if you didn’t come back? What was I supposed to do then, Bucky? Huh? You left me!” Your voice cracked as your tears fell.

“I know, I'm sorry.” He put his arms around you, holding you tightly. He whispered his apologies into your hair as he held you to his chest. “I'm sorry.”

As you composed yourself, you pulled out of his embrace, wincing as the stitches in the side of your abdomen are put under strain. “Please don't,” you pushed away his hand as he tried to help you. “How does your girlfriend even feel about you being here 24-7? She made it pretty clear to me that she wasn’t giving you up.”

“She did what?” Bucky’s voice rose an octave and his eyebrows flew up into his hairline. “When?”

“Didn’t she tell you why we were in the park together?”

“I haven’t seen her since we brought you to the hospital. We’re not…”

“What happened?” you asked, surprised to hear this development.

“We broke up.”

“Why?”

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Because she's not you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your expression a mix of confusion and realization.

"What do you mean she's not me?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Bucky looked down at his hands, fidgeting nervously. "I mean... she's not you. She's not the one I want to be with. She's not the one who makes me feel safe and loved. She's not the one who understands me like you do."

"I was so scared of losing you, that I ended up acting totally crazy and almost lost you anyway. Bucky, I…” you sighed. “I don't know why this is so hard for me to say… I care about you. You're everything to me… I… I love you."

Bucky's eyes softened as he reached out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Cricket. I didn't realize... I didn't know how you felt."

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally spoke your truth. "I've been hiding it for so long, Bucky. I've been pretending that everything was fine, but it wasn't. I missed you. I missed us."

Bucky's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I missed you too, Cricket. I missed us too."

You leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity wash over you. “I don't want to hide it anymore, Bucky.”

Bucky's eyes sparkled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "I’m so glad to hear you say that, Cricket. I love you too."

In that moment, you felt that your world was complete. Bucky was everything you needed and he felt the same way about you as you did for him. You craned your neck back to look at his face, and as he caught your eye, Bucky cupped your cheek tenderly. Your hearts beat in unison as he leaned in closer. The tension between you palpable, the air thick with desire. And then, in a moment that seemed to last an eternity, his lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss, his heart soaring as you kissed him back. It was like nothing either of you had ever experienced before. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in Bucky, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace. The kiss was gentle and sensual, filled with a depth of emotion that words could never express.

Eventually Bucky pulled back, gasping a little to fill his lungs with the air he had been deprived of. Even as a super soldier , Bucky still needed oxygen. He blinked in confusion, bewildered by the mischievous twinkle in your eye.

"I win that round, huh?" you said, a playful grin on your face.

"What do you mean? How are you not out of breath?" he asked, his heart still racing from the kiss.

You pointed to the tracheostomy tube in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips, a hint of laughter in your voice. "I can breathe through this, remember? So I win this time, Sergeant Barnes. Whoever breaks the kiss is the loser."

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh with you while shaking his head, feeling a sense of relief washing over him. He had always loved your sense of humor, even in a moment as intimate as this.

You sat on the edge of the bed, overjoyed that you had been deemed fit to leave the hospital. As you stared out of the window at the bountiful greenery that surrounded the urban hospital building, Bucky approached you quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the sterile floor.

"Hey, Cricket," he said softly, taking a seat beside you. "I heard it's time for you to come home."

You turned to look at him, your eyes filled with happiness. "Hey! That was my news!" you joked.

"Do you want me to get the rest of the team to help move you back home?"

You took a deep breath and looked out the window again, contemplating your response. You had been thinking about this moment for a while now, and you knew you had to be honest with Bucky.

"I appreciate the offer, Bucky, but I don't think I want to go home just yet," you said, your voice steady.

"What?" Bucky's face fell dramatically, panic on his handsome features. But you were ready for this reaction.

"Look, Buck, I'm not saying I don't want to be with you." You put your hand on his thigh. "I just... it's been a lot, you know? I..."

Bucky looked surprised, but he nodded understandingly. "I get it, Cricket. You've been through a lot and maybe you need more time to heal."

You smiled gratefully at Bucky. "Exactly. And I've been thinking... I want to stay in my apartment and teach at the Academy. I've never lived on my own, been self-sufficient. I went from living with my family, to working for S.H.I.E.L.D., to being an Avenger. I just think it's time for me to be me. I want you to have the best of me."

Bucky sighed, pouting and running a hand through his hair. "But we could use your powers on the team. You're a valuable asset, Cricket."

"I know," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. “But I need a fresh start. I need to figure out who I am outside of being a superhero or an agent. I want to continue working at the Academy and make a difference in my own way."

Bucky nodded, understanding your need for independence. "I respect that, Cricket. But promise me that if we ever need your help on a mission, you'll be there."

Cricket smiled softly. "Of course, Bucky. I'll always be there when you need me."

Bucky reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "I'm going to miss having you around all the time."

You squeezed his hand back, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving your teammates behind. "I'll miss you too, Bucky. But this isn't goodbye forever. We'll still see each other all the time, I promise."

As you sat in silence, the weight of your impending separation hung heavy in the air. But you knew that this was a necessary step for you to find yourself and for your relationship with Bucky to grow stronger.

"What will this mean for us?" he asked, tentatively.

"Well, I hope, a fresh start. One where we can both communicate better with each other."

Bucky grinned at you sheepishly. "I promise, from this point on, I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Even if I'm mad, or sad, or..."

"Horny?"

Both of you burst out laughing, plenty embarrassed and slightly aroused.

"That one is guaranteed." Bucky grazed his finger over your arm, leaving a trail for goosebumps in its wake.

"I love you, Bucky."

"I love you too, Cricket," Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly letting go.

As you prepared to leave the hospital and start your new journey, you felt a mix of emotions - excitement for the future, sadness at leaving your old life behind, but above all, a sense of hope for what was to come. And as you looked out at the greenery outside the window, you knew that you were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. Everything felt different now and with Bucky by your side, you were confident that the two of you could face anything together.

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st-kitten · 10 months

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707

next chapter →

WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable

life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.

all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.

toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.

but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?

[flashback]

toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?

collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.

he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

he let it slide. people had lives.

but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.

"oh god! yes!"

and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?

when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.

[back in present time]

months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.

the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...

so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.

"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.

"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."

you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.

"sure! i'd be happy to!"

toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.

"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.

you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.

your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.

"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."

you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.

"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"

megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.

"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.

"please? i'll get you ice cream."

megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.

"yes. now go inside."

clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.

toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.

"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.

"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.

toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.

toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.

you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.

"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."

megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.

"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.

"you can sit down wherever you want."

megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.

"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.

"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.

you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.

"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.

he thought about it. what did he like to do?

"paint..."

"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.

megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.

you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.

"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.

megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?

"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"

megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.

megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.

"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.

"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.

"why?" it was all you asked.

megumi looked at you in shock.

"cup..."

you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."

"i break cup..."

you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.

"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.

instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.

"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.

megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.

"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?

you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.

"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.

megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.

you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.

"alright, pick your colours."

megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.

you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.

megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.

after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.

you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.

you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.

megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.

"megumi..."

he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.

you stood behind him, admiring the wall.

"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"

megumi had a tiny smile on his face.

"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.

he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.

"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.

you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.

after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.

"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.

megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.

upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.

you finally slept on your couch around midnight.

toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.

the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.

when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.

he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.

"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"

"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."

toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.

he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.

he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)

if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.

you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.

toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.

he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.

as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.

"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.

"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.

megumi giggled.

toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.

[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]

you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.

"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.

"anything is fine."

you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.

"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.

"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.

"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.

"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.

"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.

this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.

"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.

he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.

he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.

you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.

"he's great at painting!"

toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?

"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.

you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.

toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.

"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."

"huh?"

"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."

"i don't have one?"

"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.

"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.

"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...

"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.

"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."

"huh?"

you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.

toji digested every word you said.

"why on earth would you do that?"

"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.

now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."

"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.

"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."

"you're not ashamed?"

"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."

"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"

"of course i don't use my real name."

toji shook his head in disbelief.

"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.

toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.

"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.

"anytime!"

toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.

a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.

toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.

why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.

he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.

toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.

he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.

that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.

[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]

he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.

the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.

"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.

"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.

"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"

"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."

"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...

"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"

toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.

"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."

toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.

the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.

"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.

"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.

your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.

"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.

"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."

toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.

"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."

fuck

toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.

"yes, fuck..."

"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.

"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.

"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.

"tell me how good it feels..."

toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.

"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.

"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.

"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.

he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.

a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.

toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.

and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.

but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.

so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.

"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.

before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."

"come in..." you moved aside.

you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...

toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.

"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.

"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."

"awww..."

"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."

you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.

"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"

toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.

"alright."

"wait, what?"

"i'll help you... sell your voice."

"are you serious?"

"do i look like i'm joking?"

"would i even... be able to... you know..."

you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.

"just do it..."

"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.

"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.

toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"

"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.

toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.

wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"

toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.

you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.

"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.

toji gulped.

"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."

toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.

"no one can know," he said sternly.

"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."

"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."

"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"

"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."

you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"

toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.

he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...

you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.

"okay... what would you like to say?"

"i don't know..."

"what are your go-to swear words?"

"uh... fuck?"

"and?"

"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."

"what do you have to fear?"

she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?

oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...

fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.

"how do you start?"

"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."

"so, give me one of your scripts."

"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"

"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"hey, wait, that's good!"

"huh?"

"say it again."

"this... is frustrating?"

"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."

"i can't just do it on command."

"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"

toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"

"no, but, you get the point."

toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.

"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"

"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.

"or what?"

"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.

you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.

"that... was something."

"i mean it."

"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.

"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.

"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.

toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.

you nodded.

"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.

"use your words, baby."

you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.

you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"

"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."

you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.

"please please please! i'll do anything!"

oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."

"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.

"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.

your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.

you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."

you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"

toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.

"well, i'm not one to brag..."

"no, please brag."

"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"

"she will eat it. she will want to become it."

"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.

"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."

that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...

"that's actually very..."

"rich, right? i was surprised too."

"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"

"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"

toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...

"how about... 707?"

you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."

"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.

"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"

toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."

you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"

you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.

so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.

"'sup?"

"it's my agent."

toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.

"what'd she say?"

you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.

'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'

toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.

'you both have to do it together'

#toji fushiguro #toji #fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #smut #megumi #Quinn #spicy #neighbours #asmr #jujutsu kaisen

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milliesfishes · 1 month

Text

୨ৎ⋆˚౨ৎ𝓡𝓲𝓫𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓼 (𝓐𝓬𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮)౨ৎ˚⋆୨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, control, mention of a past suicide attempt, angst, pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: this work contains topics that may be upsetting pertaining mental health, controlling relationships, depression, and suicide. This is probably one of the hardest things I've ever written. But I hope it's good :) 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓑𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝔂 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

Amor vincit omnia

The phrase in Latin was a part of your wedding vows, falling from your lips like a prayer as your utter devotion shone through at the altar. All you had seen was him, glowing with the light of love. He was yours. By all rights and now in the eyes of the law, you were forever bound.

How naive you had been. Starry eyed and innocent with new love. He could do no wrong because the only thing you saw him in the action of was loving you. All other things were behind closed doors he guarded heavily, sparing no mercy.

It was a love worse than death.

Apparently, the seaside had not healed you as permanently as had been hoped. And now, in the wake of the great, terrible secret you'd unearthed, a familiar shadow was settling back into your being, making itself at home and greeting you like a friend. And you let it.

Under lock and key, you kept your musings. Replaying your newly discovered memory over and over, you began to distrust yourself. How much else laid beneath your surface of consciousness, dictating your every move without your consent? And how many more were known by your husband?

Had Venus ever grown weary of her love? Of the constant weight of it? When she was birthed from the sea did her body shudder at the future that stretched ahead- one of endless feeling burdening her hours?

You still loved him. But love does not tie up loose ends. It frays them.

The glow of candlelight could not disguise the whispers clouding the atmosphere of the party like smoke, a low hum exhausting you on your feet. Coriolanus was speaking at length with a member of his advisory, and you weren't paying attention to the nature of his words.

It had been a trial to convince him to come to this one, and you'd held your breath for the entire car ride, nails crushing into your palms to keep yourself under control. But headlines from your brief appearance at the dinner last week had spurred your decision. No more mysterious declinations of invitations, no more avoiding the public.

You were nursing a glass of champagne, finger gliding the edge like an ice skater, eyes trained on the gilded wallpaper in the distance. The few conversations you'd attempted had been all but farces, stiffened words exchanged for the sake of your position. If it ever got back to Coriolanus that someone was purposefully rude, he would have their head.

Nearly subconsciously, his hand found yours, as if he could sense your discomfort. He parted ways with the acquaintance, turning to you attentively. Sliding his arm around your waist, he pressed a kiss to your hair as you leaned into him. "Is everything well?"

"Mhm." You nodded, tilting your head up to him. People were staring, not even trying to hide the fact that they were. But you ignored it, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I'm okay."

"Good." He gave you a fond look, thumb rubbing up and down your waist. You held up your undrunk glass of champagne to him and he took it, bringing the liquid to his lips. Leaning down, he murmured. "We don't have to stay much longer."

You inhaled softly, resting your head on his shoulder briefly. "Don't ruin your night on my account. I'm the one who wanted to come."

"I'm glad we came." Coriolanus squeezed your side. "But we don't have to stay the whole time."

Deja vu was overwhelming you, bringing you back to the early days of your marriage. He was always checking in on you, always with a hand on you in some way. The thought made you smile just a bit.

The everything of everything was a burden unremedied by any attempted fix. You wore a mask of contentment, tried to pretend you were unbothered by what ailed you. It was useless, especially with him. You were an actress, but he was the director. The one who knew you best.

At home that evening, you removed your jewelry and unpinned your hair, the night heavy on your mind. You were unsure how many more stares and whispers and headlines you could take before your spine cracked under the weight of it all.

There was a knock on your door, and Coriolanus entered, half unbuttoned from the evening. You turned in your spot at the vanity, giving him a weary smile. He knelt at your side wordlessly, arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you through the mirror.

You continued to unravel yourself from the night, his presence a comfort. It had been slow these past few days; the way you let him fall back into your life, fill the ache of the empty space that had gathered dust.

The place you held in his heart had always been achingly clear.

You were his apple of Eden, his Achilles' heel. If he was Orpheus, then you were Eurydice, only he never would have looked back. The amount of trust he held in you was astonishing, nearly dreamt up after all that you'd suffered. But you'd known from the beginning that Coriolanus did not mirror the actions of other men. Even if it was easy to lose his intentions in their translation, the emotion was always crystal.

Maybe he was a snake creeping into your heart. Maybe the threads of him couldn't be cut. You'd have thought all these things if you'd fallen in love with him after he became President.

But who he was now was the man you'd married, worn on with time. Fed too much power through a straw. Made to think he had the burden of every decision in the world. Loving you was likely the same for him. Somewhere inside resided the woman you once were.

There was a glimpse of him as he knelt by your side now. It'd been a habit of his for the past several days- checking on you before he trailed off to his separate bedroom. Something about the way he looked at you was scalding in the best way. Like his passion burned so bright under his skin that it radiated outward. There was a deep-seated yearning inside you for it. It was your ambrosia and now you were starving.

All you wanted was the man you loved. But heaven knew if he'd let you have him.

Shaking your hair free, you turned to him, hands sliding over his shoulders, leaning into his embrace. "Tonight was hard."

"It was." Coriolanus rubbed your side, and you twisted your body to fit better into his. Lips finding your temple, he closed his eyes. "You know we're not required to go to everything they invite us to?"

"With what the headlines are saying about me?" you murmured. "I think we are."

A kiss was pressed into your neck, and he shook his head against you. "We know the truth, sweetheart. That's all that matters."

"But I hate that everyone thinks..." you cut yourself off, breathing in and out, and his grip loosened, giving you some space while maintaining his presence. "Everyone thinks that I'm awful."

"No." His fingers crawled up your cheek, caressing the underside of your jaw. "You're not awful, darling."

"Everyone thinks I am," you lowered your eyes to the floor. "Everything we go to, they're talking about me, whispering about my spending and your bad taste in a wife."

"My wife," Coriolanus started, using his thumb to turn your cheek back, eyes boring into yours. "Is better than anyone realizes. Kinder, more forgiving..." he exhaled through his nose, searching your face. His other hand wove into your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. "You...are a jewel among women."

Lips lifting ever so slightly, you moved forward, sheathing yourself fully in his arms. He held you close, touch as gentle as butterfly's wings. The solemn, soft silence of the night ensued, and you allowed yourself to become lost in it.

After a moment Coriolanus mumbled, "I'll leave you now. It's late." He began to untangle himself from you, but you grasped his arm. Looking at you with widened eyes, he froze. "Darling?"

Your lips parted slightly as you realized your action. But your body had determined what you wanted even before you did. And so you gathered your words. "Will...will you stay?"

Slightly surprised by it, he studied you for a moment as time stilled. You were lost in his touch, inspired by the outward vow of his heart. So true his devotion shone from the outside that it created a sunbeam you basked in. Slowly, your husband nodded, and then you were in his arms once more.

Safe and sound.

The sands of the next few weeks slipped through time's lofty hourglass, tickling your nose with how swiftly they moved. In the backdrop of the past, this had been rendered for the worst. A sign that you were drowning.

In the present it represented your coming back to life.

The unknown memory from before had been lifted from your shoulders, every frustration alleviated once you found the courage to work through it. You were in a unique situation where the problem had already been solved, but it felt new to you, lingering in your mind. Time was the only balm to your troubles, and you found it worked as well as anything could. The weight of the memory never grew lighter, you merely became stronger.

This was reflected in Coriolanus' eyes every time you looked at him, the way he watched your forged key unlock the vault of pain and suffering that encased your previous joy. It was nearly a trick of the light when one saw the person they loved getting better. Every time you smiled, he did the briefest of double takes, as if you were a ghost.

The littlest things began to delight you again, from the first rose budding in the garden to a tiny pale butterfly floating in the gentle breeze. Things that seemed to have escaped your notice for months.

As you rediscovered every wonder of the world, you could feel him watching you. Feel him drinking in the way you became yourself again.

It did not escape your notice that the grasp of change had found him too.

He let go, left you to explore life as you wished, did not limit your bounds as before. You were free to go out on your own again, to call on old friends and find a place in the tumultuous waters of the Capitol once again. Every night when you came home, he greeted you with a gentle kiss, asking about your day but never prying. Coriolanus set you free in a way. Whatever emotions borne of his power from before had dissipated, and now the one you loved was blooming as you were.

You would never be the people you were again. The newlyweds were lost to the dust of the past, mere reflections. Too long had you mourned what had once been pointlessly. The pair of you were like swans, drawn to each other, emerged from your hopeless metamorphic state.

In the wake of all that had come to pass, you were well aware that if you asked for a divorce or an annulment, he would give it to you. And you would be lying if you said you hadn't considered it.

Coriolanus Snow had trapped you, lied to you. He had held you down in the pits of despair even if it was unknowingly, had protected you to the point of suffocation though he thought it was the right thing.

But he had also saved you. He'd taken responsibility for the fallout of his actions and striven to make it better, to earn back your trust. Every time you broke it was him who knelt and put you back together. Through the public's scrutiny and backlash, he had spared no effort to heal you. In this way he had never shifted from the one you loved to begin with.

What were you both if not two broken people, shielded by the tapestries you wove for the sake of each other? The President and the Husband. The Bride and the Aftermath. All this time you'd been viewing them all as versions trapped. But the threads lost their luster and came undone.

It was all layered like the petals of a rose, dripping with a different kind of virginal blood pooling from the wound of the past instilled in each of you. For the first time you felt the desire to begin stitching it back up. You were tired of hurting. You wanted to love.

One morning at breakfast, over your pomegranate, you started subtly, sliding your hand over to his and rubbing his knuckles. He looked up from his morning paper in surprise but turned his palm over to squeeze your fingers. "Sweetheart?"

Leaning your chin on your palm, you blinked up at him. "What would you think if we took some time away together? Just the two of us?"

He set his paper down, searching your eyes. "Where would we go?"

A sweet smile lightened you. "The seaside, maybe?" Coriolanus opened his mouth, his brows furrowed, but you shook your head, cutting him off. "It's okay. I just want you to see it because I love it."

His face softened, and you stood, kicking off your shoes and sliding into his lap. His hands were like magnets to your waist, though their touch was tentative. You could have melted with how careful he was being with you, not trying to push you in any way.

Once you were settled, you curled into him, playing with his collar and murmuring, "I want you to know all the things I love again."

There it was. The spot where you bridged the gap between past and present, smoothing out the course for the future. All he had to do was accept.

Accompanied by the softest of breaths, like a whisper, he nodded. And your smile reappeared, growing even then. "We can do it?"

"Of course." He kissed your temple. "It sounds perfect."

Quiet followed as you rested your head on his shoulder, but you found you did not mind. There was trust that came with silence with another person, the knowledge that they enjoy your mere presence. It had been terribly long since you'd felt that so completely with him.

You fiddled with the pearls on your collarbone, the ones that had arrived on your bedside table the day after the dinner party. Your heart stuttered, and that singular, beautiful feeling built up in your chest. Everything you wanted to tell him, everything you felt he should hear. It swirled and hurricaned until the words escaped in a way you would have forced them to anyways.

"I love you."

Where Coriolanus' fingers had been stroking your side paused, and you used the opportunity to lift your head. Before he could say a word, you shifted to face him better. Taking his face in your hands, you softly said, "We've been through hell and back, haven't we? And I think I've felt every emotion possible towards you. But it all ends the same, doesn't it? It's all stemming from the same place."

He breathed in, cerulean eyes reflecting your beloved ocean, your home always. Maybe your time at the seaside had been so healing because in that way he'd never left you. "My love..."

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his tenderly, holding his cheek in your soft hand. He seemed to hesitate, but then his mouth was moving, kissing you the way he always had, the way you were sure was the only way he knew how. With all the raw, wonderful passion that hadn't dimmed for even a moment even through all these months.

You rested your forehead against his and took in a breath. It'd been so long since you'd kissed or been kissed. He seemed dazed, holding your face in his hands. Making sure you were looking at him, he ghosted his lips over yours once more. "I don't deserve you."

"I love you anyways."

"I'm imperfect. Everything I've done...all the pain I've caused..."

"And yet." You kissed him again for a moment suspended in time, like the dust in the air brought to view by a sunbeam, like a quiet afternoon in his arms. "I love you."

"My sweetheart," Coriolanus murmured, brushing his lips over your cheek, your nose, your jaw. "If you want me to love you I will. If you don't want that, I'll pretend not to. There was never a time I didn't." He caught your mouth again. "And there will never be a time I don't." His hand found the back of your head, eyes holding you in place, your gravity to the earth. You held him there, the crux of your womanhood, the one true love of your life.

The work was far from over. The road was long and forever. But here in his arms you felt complete as you ever had, more yourself when you loved than when you hated.

You were free. Free to love. Free to be whole.

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yumeka-sxf · 9 months

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Becky's homewrecking is one of my most favorite stand-alone chapters...and the anime version did not disappoint!

Everyone's reactions to Becky's hilarious delusions are just so perfect - Loid being baffled and totally clueless, Yor being flustered and completely misinterpreting things, while Anya just observes it all with quiet amusement.

Plus the scenes of Anya imagining Becky as her mom, and even the short sequence of showing Becky her house - gah, everything about this chapter/episode is peak SxF comedy~

Becky completely ignoring Bond...poor pup 😂

If Loid thinks he doesn't understand children based on Anya, Becky certainly did not help! (also Bond in the corner still feeling rejected)

Yor's "encounter" with the car worked much better in the anime 🤣

I honestly feel really bad for the driver!

Also this poor guy, lol. Though I'm sure the money Becky gave him was more than enough to cover repairs on the machine 🤣

I know some people found this chapter uncomfortable, but I don't get why. If Loid reciprocated Becky's feelings, then yes, that would be bad, but he doesn't. He reacts how anyone would if some delusional little kid decided they had a crush on you - by being confused (and hoping that your wife doesn't interpret it wrong!)

It's not unusual for little kids, especially little girls, to develop silly, fleeting infatuations with adults (I'm guilty of that myself when I was Becky's age, lol).

Anya's willingness (at first) to go along with Becky's delusions was fitting - she idolizes Becky's lavish lifestyle, especially the food (and since Yor's food is, well...) Plus someone at her impressionable young age can be swayed easily. But I'm sure if somehow this delusion became a reality, she'd realize that Yor is the best Mama and Becky should just be "best friend" 😅

This chapter also confirms that Yor didn't completely forget everything that happened after the bar incident. Or at least she remembered it more clearly after Loid supposedly had the conversation with her again, lol. Just shows how important his compliments are to her.

I love how the episode's key visual is a throwback to the one from episode 6! I hope we get to see more Yor/Becky interactions again.

We also got a short anime-original story featuring Fiona. Everyone was expecting chapter 60 to be adapted, but I'm kinda glad it wasn't since it and the Becky chapter seem a bit too long to share the same episode. Not a whole lot to say about this segment other than I liked how Fiona's actions mirrored the Forgers' activities on their vacation. We also got to see more of her "training" in the woods that was hinted at after her tennis match with Yor.

I liked this bear hitching a ride.

And omg, foreshadowing for chapter 67!

And it seems like the final episode of the season will adapt the 2-part story of Loid and Bond's fire rescue. I know there's a scene of Fiona in the next mission preview, but it's likely from a quick anime-only scene while the rest of the episode will adapt the two parts of chapter 62. The big indicator that this will be the only story adapted is that the next episode only has one title, "Part of the Family."

Can't believe we're just one week away from the final season 2 episode AND the CODE: White movie! Later today there's going to be a Jump Festa panel about SxF so I'm hoping there will be a season 3 announcement - stay tuned!

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #becky blackbell #sxf anime #fiona frost

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contentloadingandstuff · 7 months

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Wingmen - Platonic!Zhongli & Platonic!Wriothesley & Platonic!Itto x Male!Reader

A/N: Itto and Wriothesley might be a little ooc since it's my first time writing them. Nonetheless, enjoy! CW: Nothing.

To anyone looking from outside, your feeling for Ganyu was painfully obvious. It seemed as each time you two were around the other, if not for a task at hand, you would stand around bashfully, making awkward small talk and fluttering your eyelashes at each other.

However, the secretary’s reactions often seemed like a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty, almost reluctance to say anything definite, neither encouraging you and voicing hee

You weren't sure how to interpret her behavior. The idea that you were hitting on an uncomfortable Ganyu ate away at you for days before you finally decided to enlist a second opinion. And who better to ask than Zhongli, the Geo Archon himself?

Zhongli: Ah, I am glad to hear you admit your feelings. There is magnetism between you and Ganyu, and it would be a shame to prevent it from flourishing.

He might not have had a female companion since Guizhong, but don't underestimate his supply of knowledge regarding relationships. Morax has known Ganyu for more or less her entire life, so his advice will prove priceless.

The key, Zhongli says, is being gentle and patient. Ganyu is far from an expert in the matters of the heart, so her reactions might be awkward and come off as uneasy rather than simply shy.

Zhongli: Don't worry, friend. If you’d trust my judgment, I’d say that, recently, dear Ganyu has been nothing but excited to see you.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with making some more direct signs of affection. She's a girl with fairly traditional ideas of romance, so kissing her hand, opening doors and other gentlemanly behaviors will surely make her heart flutter. Don't forget the flowers too! Just maybe avoid the edible ones, as Ganyu will likely find absolutely devouring them with joy quite hard to resist, which in turn will give her the typical insecurities she feels after eating out of schedule. That is if she eats by herself.

Zhongli: Ganyu is quite gentle in her disposition. It would be wise to pick an activity that would not overexert her. She is quite overworked and notoriously exhausted, you see.

A typical outing to a restaurant might be too formal and stressful for Ganyu to fully relax, so Zhongli proposes a picnic in a picturesque part of Jeyun Karst. On the schedule? A nice vegetarian meal, a casual board game, a nap in the warm sun and maybe even some hand holding to really make the day memorable.

Don't worry - your wingman will make sure Cloud Retainer has something to do besides embarrassing Ganyu and interrupting your privacy.

As you leave, he can't help but smile softly at the anticipation in your eyes. Young love is beautiful, and Ganyu could certainly use some. When Morax shakes your hand and says his farewells, he can't help but tease you.

Zhongli: Good luck, Y/N. I look forward to meeting your future children.

You looked up to Clorinde from the first day of your work. She was talented, dedicated, competent, focused, beautiful… Soon enough, you started sneaking hints that you wanted to be a little more than just colleagues with her in your daily interactions. You never expected the woman, known for her honesty, to drop hints of her own instead of outright accepting or dismissing your affection. She started spending more time with you, accepting your proposals of outings to restaurants and cinemas… She even seemed to seek you out during lunch to eat it in your company.

Despite all these signs, you were too nervous to make a definitive move and ask her out. Would it be too soon? You've known each other for just a few months, after all. Maybe she likes you as a friend rather than looking at you as a potential future husband?

This doubt was cleared when you found a ball invitation from her in your mail. You were to accompany her to the event, which had you biting on your nails in no time. Knowing you had to make a good impression, you asked your best friend for some help.

Wriothesley: Good pick. I know her a little, so I can say that she’s a woman you can definitely get along with quite smoothly. She’s well spoken, knows a thing or two about the world that surrounds her, and her looks, well, they don’t disappoint. She’s well within your league too. Hm? No, don’t worry - we’re colleagues, nothing more. I do think it’s customary to treat a lady like Clorinde to some tea and chatter when she comes down to a grim place like this, no?

The Duke has rizz, no doubt about that. Just a single glance from him gets the women of Fontaine all hot and bothered, and even Lady Furina couldn’t possibly resist his charm. But, being a man of priority and self-respect, he doesn’t focus his efforts on getting a date. That doesn’t mean, however, that he won’t help a friend in need.

She may not partake in it more than necessary, but Clorinde is high society, just like the event you will accompany her on. Wriothesley will make sure you top up your etiquette. Clorinde surely won't be focusing on your savoir vivre, but it's always helpful to know how to behave. Sigewinne will be a great (albeit short) partner for some dance practice - with what the nature of your work is, you'll surely catch the drift and Ballet, Allemande or even Minuet won't be much of a challenge. Practice makes perfect, after all.

Obviously, the whole point of a ball is to, as they say, dress to impress. The Duke won't mind delegating some of his personal wealth to make sure all eyes are on you. Money doesn't bring happiness, but it can certainly buy some very nice clothes.

Despite all of the top-notch gear you will be sporting, it will all be soulless, making you more of a mannequin than a proper man. The missing element, the final ingredient that will take Clorinde’s breath away is accenting your masculinity. How? Well, Wriothesley has more than a few tricks up his sleeve, don't you worry.

A suit should be tight-fitting - not so much as to be uncomfortable, but just right to accent your hard earned physique. A duelist’s body is nothing to scoff at - all this fighting has more than kept you in shape. There's no need to keep your outfit in perfect condition - some looser buttoning here and there goes along wonderfully with a slightly ruffled hair to give you that scruffy, masculine edge, as well as a bit of personality to your person that will for sure make you unique amongst the other penguins and snobs. Clorinde is not one of them, but her position requires her to attend a formal party once in a while - no doubt standing out a little will catch her fancy.

Lastly, cologne. Many options are available, including recommendations from Wriothesley, but it's ultimately your choice. A base, woody scent will always hit the spot, but maybe you would like something more unique? An oriental variety with cinnamon, or some citrus? If you ask him, Wriothesley would go for something more masculine - the pleasant scent of leather or a powerful mix of tobacco and spices.

Wriothesley: Whatever happens, don't put on a façade. The clothes and the scents are meant to accent you, not create an illusion. If Clorinde gave you hints before, it means that she took a liking to you as a person, so don't be afraid to be yourself, alright? Fantastic. Now get out there and give her an evening she won't soon forget.

The work of a common officer of the Yashiro Commission was quite dull and thankless. Paperwork in the morning, in the afternoon and all through to the evening. Whenever people (or Yokai) were registering events, all the paperwork went through you. It wasn't long after you were employed that you got the chance to meet the One and Oni, Arataki Itto himself as well as someone else. A short woman, whose beautiful features were safely confined under her impressive demon face mask.

To say that you were enamored would be an understatement of massive proportions. What helped was that she seemed to have an intimate knowledge of all the procedures and requirements, making professional interactions with her very smooth, being mostly free of problems. If there were any mistakes on her part, you were more than happy to overlook them for her benefit.

It wasn't hard to find a chance to exchange a few words with her, seeing as Shinobu was a very socially active woman. As time went on, you started seeking her out outside of work hours, accompanying her during the daily chores, slow evenings or even Arataki Gang events.

And Shinobu? She didn't mind at all. Every time she had another portion of formulars, event plans and other bureaucracy to lay on your desk, she apologized profusely for troubling you, and quite bashfully at times too. You always assured her that it was just your job and that working with her was a pleasure, but she always wanted to make it up somehow, usually by bringing you treats like cookies, cake or Dango milk of her own making. One time, however, you worked up the courage to ask her out. When you proposed the idea of grabbing lunch together, she agreed right away.

There was a problem, however. You didn't exactly know what sort of restaurant she would enjoy. A simple food stand would be a safe choice, but would it suit a woman of her intelligence and style? On the other hand, an expensive place would be, well, quite costly, which would hurt your already strained finances - your work doesn't pay very well, after all. And what if she thinks you are some sort of a snob? What about gifts? Is the the type to enjoy flowers, sweets, or something practical? Nothing at all, maybe?

You needed to talk to someone who knew her better than you did. Someone tall, buff and horny. In the literal sense.

Arataki Itto: So you're into Shinobu, huh? Well, I’d say she’s your type of gal - always too serious and no fun, but hella smart… No offense my bro!

Of course, simply answering your questions was not enough for the well-meaning Oni. He insisted on playing matchmaker with you two, and before you could get a word out, it was decided, and Itto began to flood you with wild ideas for a date. Onikabuto fighting, sumo wrestling…

Arataki Itto: … with identical outfits so she knows you like her, right! That would be great, right?

With a little persistence, you managed to gently turn him down and let him know that the date was already planned. He deflated a little bit, but his smile remained as he assured you that he'll help anyway, however he can.

Arataki Itto: Oh! How ‘bout you hit the gym right before the date, huh? I heard that women find the smell of sweat quite sexy! Y/N: Itto, I don't think that's a good idea. It's not going to smell good at all. Besides, when would I find the time to do that? I need to get ready for the date sometime… Arataki Itto: Train in your nice clothes? That'll save you some solid time, eh? Y/N: Well… They won't exactly be fresh and clean after training. Arataki Itto: Ah! You wanna be that suit-and-tie-guy-getting-what-he-wants-takin’-her-by-surprise kinda man? Respect!

In your plan, you didn't take into account just how loud Itto is. Before long, a familiar figure seemingly rose up from underground right beside you.

Arataki Itto & Y/N: Shinobu! Kuki Shinobu: And what kind of mischief are you two up to, huh? Y/N: Nothing, really… Just catching up, right Itto? Arataki Itto: Wait, I thought you wanted to ask Shin- Y/N: Itto! Kuki Shinobu: … Y/N: … Arataki Itto: … Kuki Shinobu: Why didn't you ask me straight up, Y/N? Y/N: I was a little… Shy, to be honest. Kuki Shinobu: That's kinda cute, you know? So how about we make it an official date? Y/M: Yes please! I mean... I would really like that. Kuki Shinobu: It's settled then. Arataki Itto: Woohoo! We're going on a date, baby!

Thanks for reading!

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darlingmisa · 1 year

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what if you were having an attitude and doing whatever you could to ignore everyone and be alone? the type of attitude that couldn’t be dealt with by sex?

i need some abby comfort and i love your writing so so much

Don't Hide...

There's not enough Abby comfort on here and I'm definitely here to fix that! And I'm so so glad you enjoy my writing! It makes me very happy to hear you guys say that <3 (846 words)

It was one thing for you to have a bit of an attitude sometimes, who wouldn't? Living in a post-apocalyptic world wasn't the dream scenario, so of course, everyone was a little snarky at times, but something about the way you were acting, felt different to Abby. It wasn't just your normal attitude after a bad patrol or generally rough day, something was different.

All week you had been getting more and more irritated. It started as simply rolling your eyes when Issac mentioned something you could've done better, walking away before he could even finish his lecture. Next, it was ignoring your partners, who were simply trying to keep everyone, including you, safe on patrols. What got Abby's attention, was how you'd shut yourself away from everyone the minute you could. That on its own wasn't abnormal. What was? You were pushing her away too.

Abby tried everything, asking around to see if something happened to put you in such a mood, but she never got a clear answer. Always just a "She just started acting like that," from every person she asked. Her concern only grew when you started spending the night in your room, something you hadn't done since the two of you had gotten together.

It got to the point where Abby had barely seen or spoken to you. She was extremely worried, especially when even on your days off, you were nowhere to be found. This just wasn't like you, but every time she went to your room, knocking on the locked door, something else you never did, she was met with pure silence.

She decided she would just give you the space you seemed to be so desperately begging for. And that lasted for a few days until she realized you hadn't been going out at all. Not for food, not for your patrols, not for any reason at all. No one had seen you, and that's when she decided to snag a room key and make her way back to the door with your name written on it.

She knocked, muttering a small "Babe..? I'm coming in okay?" and that's when the panic settled in. You knew it would come to this eventually, and you could already hear the worry in her voice, only making you feel worse. You could see her slightly from the curled-up position you were in. As she slowly moved closer, you couldn't miss the furrow of her brows or the frown on her face caused by your current state. What stood out the most though, were the bags under her eyes showing how little she'd slept.

You felt the tears immediately fill your eyes and overflow, beginning to sob out apologies as she rushed to your side. Abby was quick to speak, brushing stray hairs out of your face and wiping your tears. "Hey hey, what's wrong sweet girl? Talk to me."

At this point you'd rolled back over, unable to look your girlfriend in the eyes as you tried to speak through broken sobs. "I-I don't know Abs… I can't explain it." And that was the truth. You weren't sure why you'd been feeling this way or what had caused it. You just couldn't do it anymore.

"I need you to look at me baby, and breathe, please." Her voice was soft and calming compared to the whirlpool of emotions, ones that had been swirling inside of you for weeks now. You turned around at the feeling of the bed dipping beside you, a sign that Abby had laid down as well. Once her eyes met yours, she spoke again "Did something happen?"

"No," You began, voice barely audible from where you'd buried your face in her chest. "I just..broke? I don't know." Abby felt the rise of your chest before your voice reached her ears once more. "It's so much baby I just can't-"

Abby cut you off before you could finish. "I know pretty girl, I know." Her hands trailed down your sides, rubbing gently. "You've been working so hard, was it too much for you?" And all you could do was nod, hearing her put what you'd been hinting at in simpler terms. You were exhausted, trying to seem tough for everyone but you just couldn't keep the act up anymore.

The blonde held you as you cried, running her fingers through your slightly tangled hair, mumbling small comforting phrases, and leaving kisses across the crown of your head. "We'll get you a different position on base okay? Something that might be easier for you yeah?" And you nodded, coming to terms with the fact that you weren't ready for jobs like that, for something so stressful.

Eventually, you'd calmed down and raised your head to look at Abby once more. The rough feeling of the pad of her thumb wiping a stray tear grabbed your attention. "Next time, don't hide yourself okay?" A small smile graced her features as she watched you nod again, still not risking speaking and bringing more tears. "I'm here, just come talk to me."

#abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou2 #tlou abby anderson x reader

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moeyynorris · 3 months

Text

Do You Wish That You Loved Me?

Let’s Make Trouble In the Dream World - Part 4

Max Verstappen x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader

Warnings: angst (related to unrequainted love and break up), arguing, Google translated Dutch, emotions related to a break up/being abandoned. Oh, and this is horribly edited, so I apologize.

Master List

You tapped the key card against the metal block on the hotel room door and waited for the light to flash green. It was just after 1am, but your mind was on overdrive. You just hoped that Max was asleep, and that you wouldn’t have to discuss your decision to end what little was left of your relationship until morning.

As you opened the door, the bedside lamp flicked on. Your heart sank and every muscle filled with dread.

Shit.

“Oh, hi mijn schat. I’m glad you’re back.” Your stomach sank at his tone. He almost sounded like he did when the two of you first started dating. His voice was honest, a little groggy, but confident. “I was wondering when you would come back to me.” His lips curled into a grin as he slowly slid out from under the covers.

“Yeah, I know it’s late. But, I just took my time. I figured you would be asleep by the time I got back either way.” You gestured to the bed, clutching your phone in your free hand.

“I tried, but it was so lonely here. And I wanted to make sure you were back safe. Now, here you are.” He reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. His grip was tight, almost possessive as he pulled you against his chest. And, for some reason, you just melted into him. Was this what you were planning? Not even close.

Max pulled away a bit, peering down at you with hooded eyes. “Come lay with me, schatje. Tomorrow—uh—today will be a busy day.” The back of Max’s hand travelled slowly down your cheek. Then, he reached for your hand and pulled you to the bed.

“Max, give me a few minutes. I need to change and get ready for bed.” Your voice was stern, which made you wince. Why was it bothering you now to be harsh? He was never like this anymore. Something was up, or maybe it was just his excitement for the race?

Max nodded as he let go of you. “I’ll wait for you, then.”

You turned for the bathroom and closed the door almost all the way. Your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, and you stared for a moment, before sighing. A part of you now thought leaving Max was going to be harder than you originally believed. Sure, you weren’t in love him anymore, but he seemed to be more attentive in the last few minutes than he had been in months.

You shook your head. No. This wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to be distant and make you feel ignored and inferior, then just come snuggling back up to you. That’s not the game you were going to play.

You started brushing your teeth as your mind faded back to just over an hour ago. The feeling of Charles’ lips on yours forced your eyes to flutter close. He was so warm, so soft, so wanting. The way you felt so natural in his grasp was enough to make your body all hot again.

Your eyes shot open as a bare chest pressed against your back. You had almost forgotten Max was there with you while your mind was dwelling on Charles.

Darkened blue eyes captured you in the mirror. Max wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back even firmer against him. You quickly finished brushing your teeth and turned to him.

“Um, can I help you?” You barked. Luckily, it came out sounding a bit sarcastic.

“What? Am I not allowed to hold my girlfriend after she gave yet another performance of the year? What’s so wrong with that?” His lips quickly found the nape of your neck and began sprinkling kisses there.

You tried your hardest to relax. You let out a long breath, focusing on the sensation, the warmth of his touch. But, there was no warmth. You felt absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, you mind shifted to Charles, the way you felt under his touch. The soothing warmth from his lips on yours, and his lightly calloused hands finding their natural places.

Natural. That was it. This didn’t feel natural anymore.

And it had to stop.

You pulled back, pressing the small of your back into the bathroom counter behind you. Max tried to follow you, but you put your hands between the two of you. He pulled back, sensing your intention.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” His eyes widened in confusion as he studied your face. You shook your head.

“Max, this feels wrong!” You blurted. You voice came out louder than you intended, but you didn’t care.

“Why? What’s wrong?” He reached a hand out that you didn’t take.

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?” You squeezed your eyes closed, letting out a huff. “We haven’t been, I dunno, our normal selves in a while. I mean, not like what we were before. You’ve been, well—“ You paused, trying to find the right word. “Neglecting me. You know, emotionally.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. You were trying not to be mean; there was no reason to do that. But, you needed to be honest.

“Neglecting? Y/N, I—“

“Max, this doesn’t feel natural anymore,” you confessed. His face hardened a little as he processed your words.

Max’s face hardened. “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” His tone was low, blunt, almost a snarl. He was hurt, you could see that. A part of you felt guilty for it, but it wasn’t fair to drag this on.

You shook your head. “No, Max. Not the way I used to.”

“What do you mean by that?” He took another step back, a disgusted frown on his face.

“I-I love you, like I care about your wellbeing. But, I’m not in love with you anymore, Max. I’m sorry—“

“Get out,” Max spat. His whole body tensed. His lip snarled as he stared down at the ground, like he was trying not to have to look at you again.

“Max, I have nowhere to—“

“Get. Out!” He roared. You jumped, smacking your back against the counter. You winced, then tried to ignore the pain.

You glared up at him. “Max, where am I supposed to go—“

“I don’t care, Y/N. I don’t give a shit. Go find whoever you were smiling at in the crowd—“ Max’s eyes widened in realization. “I don’t care who it is. I know it’s someone else. Go find them. Maybe they’ll take you in. Either way, you’re on your own.”

Your lower jaw trembled at the thought of being on the streets of a foreign country by yourself. You knew his heart was broken. And sure, he was hurt. But that’s no reason to kick someone out in the middle of the night in a foreign country by themselves. You could sleep in the gathering room of the hotel suite, where he wouldn’t even see you…

“Max, I wasn’t—“ That was a lie. You were staring at someone else in the crowd. Hell, you kissed someone else before coming here. Maybe you deserved to be out on the streets.

No. He wasn’t the victim here. You were unhappy and treated you like a second thought. Was it wrong to kiss Charles before admitting anything to Max? Maybe, but that didn’t mean you deserved to be out on the streets in the middle of the night.

“Y/N, leave. I don’t want you here if you don’t love me.” His eyes were glassy, like he was holding back tears. You looked away.

“Fine. Just let me grab my stuff,” you deadpanned, a hint of anger behind your voice. He nodded, a scowl still clear across his face.

It only took you four minutes to fit everything you brought into your suitcase and walk out the hotel room door. There was no goodbye, not a word between the fight and your departure. But, none of that mattered. What happened needed to happen by morning. And, well, it was technically morning.

You peered down at your phone. Yeah, it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. And you had nowhere to go.

You stared down at your phone, realizing you had 9 text alerts, 3 missed calls, and a voicemail. Squinting, you pressed on the text button.

Charles Leclerc:

1:16pm: Hey, just making sure you got back ok. Maybe it is just taking you a while. Hope you are safe.

Charles Leclerc:

1:20am: Sorry to bother you again, but I just want to make sure you are safe.

There were a few more like that. Each one showing more and more concern for you. The phone call and voicemail were more of the same. But, there was something in Charles’ voice that warmed your heart. There was genuine worry there, a sincerity that you missed. No one had spoken to your like that in a long time.

You stared at your phone for another moment, studying the name of the man whose lips were mingling with yours just a few short hours before. Should you call him? Should you tell him that you were in the scenario you were in? You sucked in a breath. He would care. He does care.

You held your phone to your ear as it began to ring. A soft yet sharp voice answered you after just two rings.

“Y/N?” Charles sounded wide awake.

“Charles—“ Before you could get anything out, you began to cry. No, you sobbed. Every emotion you had been either holding back or denying over the last few hours came rushing out at once. Your chest tightened, your jaw clenched, and your legs began to fail you.

“Y/N, what’s happening?!” Charles shouted. He wasn’t angry, but there was a heavy desperation in his voice. “Y/N, please talk to me.”

You sucked in a gasp, attempting to calm yourself down. Breathe in, then out.

After a few moments, you calmed yourself down enough to get some words out.

“I left Max, and he kicked me out.” Your voice shuddered as you struggled to explain. Charles was silent for a moment before answering.

“He kicked you out? Of the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Wait, so you are out on the street right now? Where are you?” You could hear him shuffling around, then the jingle of keys.

“I’m down the street from the hotel, next to a little market with a big blue sign.”

“I will be there in ten minutes. Don’t hang up. Just keep talking to me.” Your heart fluttered at the worry in his voice.

“About what?” You sucked in a breath.

“Anything. Just keep talking to me. I’m coming to get you.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #Charles leclerc x reader series #max verstappen angst #f1 fanfic

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