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v1x3n · 2 days ago

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REUNITE! ── ripped apart.

♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141

♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.

♯ TAGS - angst - mentions of torture, panic attacks and breakdowns.

─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─

Days go by, long fucking days where you're practically stuck in this bed. You could get up and walk around but you didn't want to. You stared at the ceiling, kind of hoping it would fall down on you but it never came. Your face stuck in the same position for hours as you melted into the bare sheets of the hospital bed. A singular tear pricks down your cheek while you look towards the dying flowers that sit on your bedside table.

"Hi honey!" Your nurse walks into your room with some food clumped on the plate. You glance up at her with weak eyes. She places the food on your bedside table. Glancing at the withered flowers, she sighs. "They been in here recently?" Jane asks with a hint of disappointment. Your head shakes, not really wanting to even think about or even talk about them, let alone speak to them. "Listen, I know what they did to you was terrible and you probably never want to open that wound but-"

When you scoff and look away after the 'but', she continues talking. "...You should talk to someone about it. I'm not asking you to talk to them. Because god knows I wouldn't even look at them, but you should see a therapist. You do need one and you can't keep pushing away everyone who wants you to get better." Jane's sweet smile makes you acknowledge that there are nice people in this world.

"I-I uhm- I was forced to go to a session like within the first week of being here but they just..." you trail off, looking towards the flowers that had lost nearly all their life. Huh, you never thought you could relate to flowers.

"I understand, I do." She gently puts her hands on your knee. This time you don't flinch though. This time, memories didn't flash through your eyes - forcing you to relive the horrible things those fucking four put you through. This time, it was peaceful, it was comforting. "You should still give it another go, after what you went through - you need someone safe." Your nurse's thumb rubs against your knee as she speaks.

You take in her words, the lingering feeling of wanting to get better - to heal - stabs at your heart but you also wanted to show those fucking horrible four that this is what they fucking did to you. Not wanting to waste time getting better, if you even could, you knew deep down you'd always hurt. You wouldn't be able to trust anyone again - especially a man. What they did to you tore you apart.

So, you shrugged off your nurse's words before she let you be, to eat your hospital food. The slop slumped onto the plate looked so disgusting. The sandwich that you could tell would stick to the roof of your mouth was unappetizing. Honestly the food there made you less hungry. After sighing and shoving the meal to the bedside table, pushing the dead flowers off the wood so they splattered all over the floor. The hard floor was littered with wilted petals and the dark, pale green stems.

So here you are. Sat in another white fucking room, except there wasn't a lonely bed or flowers scattered across the floor. There were two cream couches and a massive window. And a woman wearing a tight pair of trousers, a white blouse with a blazer swept over the couch she was sitting on top of. The girl was holding a clipboard with text filling the papers. Her hair was straight and was neatly brushed - the total opposite of you. “Ah, y/n? Right? You can call me Jones." she smiled as you came into her viewline. You nod nervously as you swipe down on your little gown the hospital gave you.

Multiple panic attacks. Your body was in pain. The wounds that litter your body - not to be healed ever again. Your 8 fingers that trailed over the stitched up cut across your cheek. The breakdown you had just a week ago. How you flinch when anyone (but Jane) gets close.

All of that flashes through your head while you sit opposite the women. "You're quite famous, you know?” the woman states. You tilt your head towards the left.

“Oh?” you hum, looking around the room, clearly avoiding eye contact. She scribbles something quick onto a clean bit of paper, the one with text flopped over the top of the clipboard. “Heard about your ‘story’ a lot, from a lot of different people.” You slump against the sofa. Feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. “Oh.” mumbling when your eyes finally meet hers for the first time. Her blue eyes connect with yours. A deep passion for helping was buried in her eyes. You could tell.

“I haven't heard the story from the person who went through it all though.” Jones looks down at her clipboard, “why don't you tell me about it? How are you feeling?”

“What's there to tell?" you scoff. Sweat starts pouring from your forehead so you pull an arm that was littered with healing bruises up across it. Your question was not much of a question, more of a statement. What was there to tell? She knew the story, everyone fucking did. “Let's start with how's your day?” Jones smiled with a hint of amusement when your scoff reached her ears. “Fine.” She raised an eyebrow skeptically at your answer but didn't comment on anything. She leaned forward. Placing her clipboard on the seat beside her.

Your figit uncomfortably, "that's.. all? Fine?” Jones questions, her voice hinting at suspicion. “Yep.”

“You know if you aren't honest, I can't help you."

After burying your head into your hands, you drag your cheek down with your palm as you let out a long sigh, "I'm doing better.”

“Well that is good to hear,” she coos, reaching for her clipboard and writing down a few words in the margin. “Has anyone visited you lately?” Her question makes you hesitate for a moment. “Like family and friends?” Jones nods whilst leaning back.

Looking around the office you notice the way the woman in front of you tilts her head in the slightest when you shake your head. Her ramblings go on and on but you end up blurring them out. High squeaking forms in your ears, blinding out your therapist talking.

That's when a loud bang sounds from the door that you entered through. It brings you back to life. You flinch back as the door opens. “Hey Jones, sorry 'm late just got outa trainin’” the blurred man walks through the door, holding tight onto a notebook. His scruffy appearance so familiar.

You wish you didn't have to face him yet.

“Your session is on a Thursday from now on, I told you-” she gets cut off when Johnny drops the book in his hands as he stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth opening slightly as fear shoots through your stomach and heart. The man before you mumbles one quiet word.

“...Bonnie.”

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777heavengirl · 2 days ago

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kitchen

remus lupin x reader one-shot ! warnings: my beta reader rated it 12/10 angst, do with that what you will. word count: 2,889 masterlist a/n: this is so sad. this is rlly just me partly reflecting my break up onto Remus i AM SO SORRY IN ADVANCE.

You stared at the side of Remus’s face as he talked with James. Your brother ever the animated man, waved his arms around and spoke excitedly, to which Remus could only muster small chuckles and low-toned responses.

You knew he was tired.

Work was tiring.

The moon was tiring.

His body was tired.

Part of you was still left with a bitter aftertaste from his apathy. You pressed a kiss against his bicep.

Remus’s lips pressed into a thin line resembling a smile. You knew it meant he was itching to leave. But you didn’t move. You sat, and stared, at him, at James, at Lily. At nothing at all. You laughed when they did, and put your hand on his forearm as to remind yourself of the spark between you. To remind yourself that he was here, with you and that he loved you.

That you loved him too.

You wondered if he had always been this way. Had you just been too in love to notice the apathy? The way he seemed to not even try to reciprocate any energy? Were you just being too needy?

Was James not bothered by his friend’s lack of emotion?

You and Remus had too much history. You could not remember what life was like without being with him. It had been years. Years of running up and down behind your twin brother and his friends, years of hands intertwined with Remus’s, kisses first shared in the dark— Merlin forbid your brother found out at the time. You had been happy. For years. Even with the ups and downs and the mercurial nature of his moods. Maybe lunar is a better word for it.

The waning and waxing phases of the way he felt about the world. You thought that might be the hardest part of it all.

The way he’d be enthusiastic about the future one week, talking about job postings that had piqued his interest, talking about a future. But other weeks, the dark side of the moon reared its ugly head. He’d be riddled with doubts and fears. Days and weeks were he simply wallowed, days where he haunted your room or your kitchen, for hours. He’d reluctantly go to his muggle job, the monotony of it all bringing his mood down even more.

Weeks like those it was hard. The talks of aspirations went up in a cloud of smoke and you were once again left with nothing.

He always did say that even though he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, he was sure about you. That you were the one constant in his future. No matter what, it was you. It wasn’t as reassuring as he believed it to be.

You tried not to think about it.

You eventually bid goodbye to your brother and his darling wife. The picture of a perfect family, with a baby on the way, in a small flowering cottage. You itched to ask Remus if he ever wanted that. Did he ever think about it at all?

But, you loved him. That was all that mattered.

Besides, you had real history. Too many years invested. If it wasn’t with him, you were probably just going to end up alone.

You were in love with him for Godric’s sake. Maybe that was the reason you could never choose yourself.

“Have you given what we talked about some thought?” your words were barely above a whisper, unsure, scared about what his answer could be. You could see him look around uncomfortably. Maybe you should’ve waited until you actually got home not walking through the streets.

“Y-yeah, I did…” his hand gripped yours tighter as you walked, like you might slip from his fingers “I think I should maybe wait a few weeks…” his shoulders tensed when the sigh inevitably left your lips. “I’m sorry I know it isn't what you wanted to hear but- I don't know if the Ministry would even take me… I did see a new posting for an entry-level in the department of magical creatures maybe I could apply”

“Apply soon yeah”

He nodded silently and you kissed his shoulder to wordlessly tell him thank you, as you walked home from James and Lily’s. Maybe he’d actually do it this time. Maybe one day, he’d see his own potential, he’d see how much farther he could go.

Maybe someday he’d be brave enough to take a leap and fulfill his promises to you and himself. Maybe one day you’d finally be in a spot to build a family together. Or at least plan for it.

After all, you and Remus had real history. And he promised. Many moons ago.

Your love for him was why it was always so hard to do the right thing.

Because as soon there was some disagreement, you knew, as much as he did, that no matter how upset you might be with him he could sweep you into his arms and all worry would melt away.

In the small flat, you and Remus shared, under the warm light of the stray table lamp you’d dance. He’d take you in his arms and move along the soft rhythm of the music he’d put on. He’d kiss your temple and swear and promise.

Shallow words that at this point went in one ear and out the other. Promises of a future together, of applications that would never get done, of steps that would never even be attempted.

But nevertheless, you forgave.

You forgave four years of broken promises. You forgave the lack of a ring on your finger. You forgave the lack of planning for the future. You forgave his indifference.

You made yourself think you forgave him.

You tried to forget too.

Tried to forget his lack of ambition because why try when they would never want to hire someone like me? Tried to forget the way your mother had warned you about this a year back. Tried to forget the way Sirius called your phone last month from France, telling you you’d love it there, telling you it was a shame Remus didn’t want to go. How much of a shame it was that you had to miss out on life-changing experiences because Remus couldn't.

Wouldn’t.

Same thing.

Sirius called again a few days after you visited your brother.

“Is it raining there? The weather’s shit here at the moment” You ask, staring at the window, the raging storm outside banging against the glass and drowning the usual sight of the street bellow.

“Meh- could be worse, I reckon it’s starting to warm up soon, so m’pretty excited about that,” He said, you hummed in acknowledgment “Have you talked to Moony again about coming? It really is beautiful in the summer doll— besides you can stay with me for free obviously”

You sighed

“No Sirius, I honestly don't even want to ask I already know how that one will go”

“So what? you’re not vacationing at all?”

“The only place I’m vacationing is in rock bottom Black-” you said, staring at the closed bedroom door. No doubt Remus was taking a small nap. The full moon was approaching.

Sirius tskd’d.

“You know you can always come… by yourself I mean, stay with me for a while”

“Sirius…”

“I know I know… I’m sorry-” Sirius tried laughing it off, the chuckle not lasting long as he asked, “Are you happy at least? With him.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that” You tried fighting the way your eyes seemed to immediately water.

“I fear it’s a pretty straight-up question- yes or no?”

“I don’t know if this is what happy is anymore” you whispered, afraid to state it fully aloud

“Then it isn't. When you’re happy, you know” Sirius sounded somber “You have to do the right thing, whatever is right for you not for him”

“It is never that easy”

“Yes, it is doll. It is always that easy”

You bid him goodbye soon after.

You chalked it off as Sirius not knowing what it was like to be with someone for years. You couldn’t just throw away the past four years of your life just because what? He was tired? He wasn’t putting as much effort as you wanted?

It could be fixed.

You were convinced you’d fix it as Remus trudged out of the room, hair disheveled as he rested his head on your shoulder. A kiss to the crook of your neck.

“Was it Pads?” he mumbled against your skin, you ignored the way you felt caught

“Yes”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, better than okay”

“I wish we could go to Paris” you tried not breaking down in tears right there and there.

It was never about money. You could go on brooms for fucks sake. You could portkey right into Sirius’s little French apartment.

You didn't ask him why not. Why not go? You drowned the question in the tea he eventually handed you. You had always been more of a coffee person, but much like everything else, you sacrificed it for his preference for tea and its calming effects.

You tried your best to fix it, for months. You’d lay down with him after work, card your fingers through his light brown locks, trace his scars while he fought off sleep, press a chaste kiss to his lips before he fell asleep.

You started calling Sirius more often than not, in hushed whispers. Tears were often spilled. You stopped feeling bad eventually. It was just calling a friend in a time of need. Draining the disappointment you didn't dare throw in Remus’s face.

He was going through enough.

You continued to hold on to hope.

You’d nudge him along. Try for new jobs, call friends to see if anyone, anyone at all, could find him an in with the ministry.

“He just needs to apply sweetie- this is stupid” Marlene rolled her eyes, her auror uniform casually unbuttoned after her day of work, she twirled the spoon in her tea with a small wave of her finger. “They’re starting these werewolf allocation programs, they make sure they’re given jobs and such…”

“I don't know if he’d like that” You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. You could imagine him already, turning his nose away from any sort of Ministry help.

“Can I ask why he isn’t the one asking me these things?” Marlene said a glint in her eye that let you know she knew the answer already. You looked away.

“Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing Marls”

“You need to do the right thing for yourself”

“Marlene-” you scoffed “Me and Remus just have too much history- how can I ever just choose me? It’s us”

“Maybe it’s time it’s just you”

You stared at Remus that night, the soft music that played from his muggle radio filling the air between you. You stared at him silently, the curve of his lips, the soft of the apples of his cheeks. The silvery scars that ran across his face.

You loved him, you did.

But you also did feel the very worst you could feel. No dancing in the kitchen could fix it anymore. No kisses and fake promises could fix it. Not anymore.

As soft as he made you feel, as much history as you had together. You couldn't help the overwhelming need to cry every time you looked at him.

What the hell was he even doing? What were you doing?

Any plans you had dreamed of with him were now very quickly crumbling in front of your eyes. He continued to silently make tea. You hoped he wouldn't notice the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes.

You and Remus had what your brother always called real history. He just meant it was deeply engrained, in your bones, in your heart. He said it poignantly last time you popped in for a visit. His tone didn’t fail to chip at your heart.

Your years together weren’t something you could erase. Not that you wanted to.

You were happy with him. Right? You loved him.

Maybe if you just gave him more time. You had graduated Hogwarts a mere two years ago.

He had always been more than good to you. Even at your lowest. Even at his lowest. He was nothing but gentle and loving.

Maybe. Sometimes, love wasn't enough.

You didn’t say anything as he finished cleaning up the kitchen. He kissed your temple goodnight. You stayed up, staring at the phone line debating on calling Sirius, again.

“I just don’t know what I should do…” you leaned against the wet metal railing of your balcony, the drops seeping into your pajama pants. You grabbed the base of the phone with one hand, the other holding the receiver up to your ear

“I don’t know why you’re asking me angel, you already know what my answer is going to be”

“Don’t be mean Sirius” he could hear the pout in your voice, and he laughed

“I’m not- you know I love Moony, we’ve been friends for ages but…”

“But?”

“I love you more” You didn’t respond. “And I think you need to love yourself more than you love him too” You could hear him inhale what you guessed was a cigarette

You hummed in acknowledgment, not daring to open your mouth at the fear that sobs would break your words.

“Don’t wear yourself out for someone that isn’t doing the same for you…”

“That’s unfair… he does”

“He forgot a card for your anniversary”

“It was a few days after the full moon…”

“Okay, what about your birthday? Or Christmas for that matter? What? D’you think I’d forget how you called crying? Every single one of those times” He said, you could feel your lip wobbling. “Come to Paris with me-”

“Sirius-”

“Just think about it okay? Promise me you’ll at least do that…”

“Okay, I will—”

“Right… ‘night love,” he said, you muttered a small goodnight “and for the record…” He hesitated for a second, almost as if he shouldn’t say it. Sirius was never one to stay quiet, he did this time. “Nevermind, I love you”

“Love you too Sirius” you answered, head hanging in defeat. The phone call clicked off.

It really wasn’t about Sirius you thought, as you guiltily crawled into bed with your boyfriend. Not about France either. You stared at his sleeping form.

It wasn’t about your and Remus’s history. It didn’t matter how long you had been together if there was no future.

It wasn’t about what your brother or Marlene, or even your mother thought.

It was about choosing you.

Right?

“Remus” you padded over and stood next to the small dining table that morning.

“Yes?” He didn’t look up from his book, a bad habit he had picked up. He was never truly listening when he did that

“Remus have you applied to the job at the Ministry?”

“Mhm? Ministry…” he still didn’t look up, he took a sip of his tea “No I haven't yet, I’ll get around to it though, I just want to take my time with it you know?”

“Its an application how long can it take?” you could feel yourself start getting angry, and you looked away from him. Not that he had looked up to look you in the eyes anyway.

“I just want to give myself the best chance to get in.” he finally looked up from his book, an exasperated look on his face. You refused to meet his eyes “What's wrong with that?”

“You’ve been saying the same thing for ages Remus”

“We’ll I have other things going on— just because you have different ideas about what my progress should look like doesn't mean I’m not doing anything you know? Because I do, I do a lot actually” He said, staring at you as if daring you to deny that he did anything.

Of course, he worked hard. You could never refute tthat. He moved his eyes down to his book.

You bit your tongue for a second, but the words slipped out nevertheless.

“Remus I don't think we can be together anymore”

“What?” the tone in his voice was nothing short of heartbroken. He searched your face for anything. Any hint that you weren't serious. “No”

Godric it was so hard to do the right thing.

“I don’t think we are on the same page anymore, you say things, you promise but…” you rubbed your temple, you could feel a headache coming “None of those promises ever come true” you sighed, finally looking at him

His eyes were rimmed red.

“You’re right,” he said, defeated, breathless.

“If you know I’m right why didn’t you just do it? I have never asked you for anything else, just for you to apply for yourself Remus, because you had said it was what you wanted”

You and Remus stared at each other. A blank look on his face as he looked at you, his nose red and tears threatening to streak down his cheeks.

“Can you say something? Anything? Why didn’t you just do it?”

“I don’t know”

“You never know Remus, but I do and I refuse to wait for you to figure it out anymore”

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

let me know if you want to be added onto the permanent tag list ! also please check out my new series bless the telephone if you haven't already! MWAH thank you for reading <3

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sweetfictionalworld · 1 day ago

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Mine

Pairing: The Front Man /Hwang In-ho x Female Reader x The Masked Officer

Requested by anon: Reader being with the frontman, and the black guard just like to tease her and get the Frontman angry. Little did he know that the frontman was watching everything and put them both in their place.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Cumshots.

"Mask off."

You obeyed the Officer's command, holding your gaze to the floor as the handsome man approached you.

"How many times have you been here now, y/n?"

"Five, Sir."

"You know, I've always wondered why a pretty, little thing like you ended up here of all places."

"Does it really matter?" you asked and looked up at him defiantly.

The Officer chuckled and stepped closer to you, running his finger down your jawline. You could feel your heart racing at the closeness of his body and the gentle touch of his finger.

"I guess not. But I know why you keep returning. Is the Front Man really that good of a fuck that you continue killing people just to get his dick?"

Your eyes widened and your face heat up. How could he possibly know this?

"I-It's not like that," you whispered and lowered your head.

The Officer's eyes widened in realization and he smiled mockingly. "Oh, I see. You love him. I'm sorry to say it, sweetheart, but he will never love you back. That man's heart is cold as stone."

"And yours isn't?" you asked, looking up at him again. You known for a long time now, that he wanted you. He was always flirting with you, calling you to his office for no apparent reason, just to tease you. And you would be lying to say that he didn't have an affect on you, he was a handsome and attractive man for sure. And a part of you wanted to make the Front Man jealous, to find out if he really cared about you or not.

The Officer smiled at your question. "You're probably right. In a place like this, who has the time to care about someone? But, it can't stop one from having a little fun."

He palmed your face and you held your breath as he lowered his face to yours, his lips nearly touching yours...

"Officer, back away."

You gasped at the Front Man's voice, the Officer only let go off your face and looked at his captain with a wide smirk, not caring about the fact that his helmet was off in front of his superior officer.

"Sorry, Captain. We were just...having a little conversation."

The Front Man walked up to the two of you, placing himself behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

"I do not share my belongings, Officer. And this one belongs to me."

A pang of heat rushed through your belly at his words.

"Oh? Are you sure that's what she thinks too? That she belongs to you?"

"I know so. Because she does everything I demand of her," the Front Man replied. "Now, sit down, Officer."

The Officer glared at the Front Man but did what he ordered, knowing what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Y/n. Take your clothes off."

A wave of heat rushed through your core at his words and you bit down on your lip as you glanced up at the Officer and saw the spark of interest in his eyes where he sat in his armchair with his legs crossed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. What choice did you have but to obey? And did you really want to disobey him? Opening your eyes, you held your gaze on the floor as you took of your mask and started undressing with trembling fingers, too self-conscious to meet the Officer's eyes.

In-ho smirked where he stood behind you, his dick twitching at the sight of your naked, tempting form.

You shot a glance upwards at the Officer, arousal spiking through your at the sight of his lust-filled eyes staring at your naked body.

"On your knees, y/n."

Cheeks flushed, you obeyed his command and dropped down to the floor.

In-ho smirked and lifted your chin, his voice dark and husky as he spoke again.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours."

You obeyed again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the Front Man zipped down his slacks and took out his cock.

The Front Man tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. You flicked your tongue across the slit of the head, earning a breathy growl from the Front Man. Encouraged by his noises, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, you started bobbing your head, sliding your lips up and down his length. With each bob, you took more and more of him into your mouth until you started to gag.

"See what a good girl she is?" In-ho smirked and looked up at the Officer who kept staring at the sight in front of him. "She does everything I tell her to do. Even here. In front of you."

The Front Man grunted and grabbed your head, pressing you down on his cock and bucked his hips against your face. You choked and spluttered as his length pushed down your throat. The Front Man growled and released the grip on your head, allowing you to breathe. Gasping for air, you stared up at him and glanced over at the officer. A pang of heat rushed through your belly when you saw the cock in his hand, his brown eyes focused on you as he stroke himself.

The Front Man wrapped his hand around your throat and forced you to look at him. You gasped and stared up at the masked man.

"See how much he enjoys seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock? I bet he's gonna love seeing me ravage you."

"Please...," you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together to lighten the throbbing arousal.

"What's that?" The Front Man snickered and lowered his hand down between your legs, slipping his long finger through your wet folds and into your soaked pussy. You gasped and grabbed his arm, moaning with pleasure at finally having something inside your aching core. In-ho growled at the sensation of your spongy flesh gripping his finger and the sloppy noises your pussy was making as he moved his finger inside you.

"You're absolutely drenched. You want me inside you, little one?"

"Y-Yes, Sir...please...," you mewled, nearly sobbing as you desperately rode his finger.

The Front Man chuckled and removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and greedy for more. Your blurry mind was abruptly woken by his cock plunging into you from behind. Back arching and eyes widening, you looked at him over your shoulder, at the erotic sight of him crouching above you and pounding his cock into your gaping, soppy count. You caught something in the corner of your eyes and suddenly remembered the Officer was there. The sight he was giving you sent another wave of pleasure through your belly. He was still stroking himself, his pace faster now, matching the pace of The Front Man's hips. His mouth was half open, his chest heaving rapidly with breathy moans as he watched The Front Man fucking you from behind.

All of these impressions flooding your body and mind were too overwhelming, and you couldn’t control your body anymore as another gush of pleasure swept through your body. Throwing your head back, you pressed your ass back against The Front Man's hips, rutting against him erratically as your orgasm rolled like waves through your body.

In-ho growled and threw his head back at the feeling of your fluttering, clenching walls gripping his cock. He slammed into you one last time, his cock swelling and throbbing as spurts of his thick cum released into your cunt. Your eyes landed on the Officer just as he came, and a fountain of white semen erupted from his cock and painted the floor. You mewled softly at the sight, your pussy gently clenching around the Front Man's cock still lodged inside you as your body relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss. Then, you felt The Front Man's fingers in your hair and you gasped as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at the Officer.

"This pussy will never be yours, Officer," The Front Man snarled. "You understand that? It belongs to me and I can fuck it whenever and wherever I want. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Officer swallowed nervously and quickly put himself back into his jumpsuit.

"Good. Now, come along, little one. I'm not finished with you."

Face flushed with embarrassment, you stood up and scrambled your clothes together, following the The Front Man with your head bowed, already feeling the burn of his paddle on your ass.

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lostinlovingrevery · 3 days ago

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Indecisive

70s DOFP! Logan X Curvy! F! Reader

A/n: This got away from me.

Plot: You're indecisive about everything- and soon you become unsure about Logan. He makes sure to get rid of those doubts of yours.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only!, DUB-CON (like a lot but reader is super into it), kinda rough sex, dom! logan, oral (f! recieving), logans a total munch, doggy style, the claws come out, readers described as curvy but not super relevant to the plot?

Word Count: 3960

You weren’t sure about him.

You met Logan a few weeks ago, you bumped into each other at the local park near your apartment. One look at him made your knees weak - you had never seen a man look so good before.

Tall- much taller than you, muscular, wearing a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and looked as if it would rip and he dared to flex at all. Over that, a black leather jacket, a little worn at the shoulder. Dark blue jeans, that hugged his hips and thighs, sporting a thick belt, with some interesting design that you couldn’t make out - because you couldn’t just sit and stare at his crotch the entire time. His face was very nice to look at anyway, with a sort of slicked back style and a widows peak hairstyle that was very distinctive, mutton chops going down his jawline and stopping at his chin. Pretty hazel eyes that stared right through you- an intensity that you couldn’t help but blush under.

He’s so handsome!

You had been distracted, busy staring down at a notebook that you had your arm cradling as you walked the path you were so familiar with. You were in the process of starting a business- a florist shop, and there were hundreds of things to decide. Which was unfortunate for you, since you were the most indecisive person on Earth.

What to eat for breakfast, what shoes to wear, what drink to order, what lipstick to put on,

It goes on and on, your day is constantly full of questions, comparing your choices and trying to pick the best one. Honestly it’s a wonder how you managed to get this far in life, considering you could stand in the middle of the store for eternity comparing the colors of a dress you like- unable to decide what you thought looked better on you.

Should I go to school?

Should I start a business?

Should I keep seeing him?

After you finished fumbling apologies to him, while he gave you that cute little smile that made you practically want to melt under his stare- he asked you out. It surprised you, seeing that you were a girl on a more…curvier side. It wasn’t that you were unattractive, you knew your body well and you certainly weren’t indecisive on your confidence; even if you do meticulously craft your outfit of the day to make sure you look good as possible- even if it is painstakingly long process that it takes for you to even decide your outfit… Logan though, didn’t seem like the type to go after girls like you. He seemed the type to be inclined towards thinner girls, girls that looked like super models off the runway. You didn’t hold any bitterness towards that thought, everyone had a type.

You weren’t sure about saying yes, since you merely just met him- and he, sensing your indecisiveness, gave you a time and place. The way he took charge, helped you make the decision and it displayed how obviously interested he was in seeing you again attracted you like no other.

So you showed up, you had a good time with him. He made you laugh, charmed you like no other man has. You shared your first kiss with him that night- one that you spent in your bed thinking about all night, giddy and blushing. The next few weeks went by and he would call and set up another date, and another, and another

The initiative he took turned you on like no other. His quiet assertiveness brought you a certain comfort you weren’t familiar with- the way he was sure of himself. The cocky confidence he’d bring during your conversations- it would make you laugh, the way he’d smirk and say something snarky.

It was great, until tonight. Doubts started creeping into your mind, as you picked up on little things about him. Things that screamed trouble and heartbreak. You didn’t mind the trouble, not at all. It was the heartbreak that scared you. You felt yourself falling for him, but you weren’t sure if you should let yourself. He didn’t seem like the type to want to stick around- after you heard his stories of the travels he’s had. While he certainly seemed eager to see you, he hasn’t brought up anything about becoming serious, and you haven’t slept together yet- your own personal way of screening potential lovers.

It’s not like you want to hold out on purpose- you would’ve jumped his bones the moment you met, but you’ve been burned by men just wanting to sleep around - and you did not appreciate being led on by a potential of something real, when really it was just physical.

Tonight's date with him went by, and you felt something weird- your own doubts may have been playing in. It led you to question if you should keep this going. More of being unsure of your life.

For now, you decided to put the decision on a backburner while you undressed and took a shower, letting the warm water flow over you as you attempted to plan your day tomorrow. The sound of the shower meant you didn’t hear Logan coming into your apartment.

How could he not stop by?

You were acting differently tonight, not as happy, or perky. You weren’t holding his hand as often, smiling as often. Your mind seemed to be in another world. He had the feeling, after observing your little quirk of being unsure over things, that maybe you were feeling unsure about him.

He didn’t like the feeling.

Since he met you, he was obsessed. You have captured him in every way possible. It wasn’t easy to get his attention, Logan was always looking for the next thing, something better. The most it came to relationships for him was one-night stands, one where he seduced someone with a smile and a few cheap compliments, brought her back to a cheap motel, and got his rocks off- and left before the night even ended. He had his own place but he didn’t need women who had the misfortune of encountering him trying to seek him out again, because he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything that was more than physical.

Until he met you.

God, you drove him insane. He thinks about you more than he cares to admit. Your pretty lips that curve into that smile that makes his dick twitch. Your curves, that he’s traced with his eyes so many times that he can picture you perfectly in his mind. He stared at the way your breasts bounced when you laughed, the way your hips moved when you’d walk away, the love handles that were barely prominent in your usual clothes unless you were wearing something tight, he wanted to grip them as he fucked into you hard and completely undo you. He was addicted to you and he hadn’t even gotten a taste of you yet. A true taste. Your lips were so sweet, and he’d capture you in a kiss multiple times a night- never able to get enough of the sugar high you gave him.

It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him. You were fierce, intelligent, and very passionate. You told him all about your little business you were starting, and your time in college, you’ve gone on a tangent more times about everything ranging from politics to flowers. He loved that passion he saw in your eyes and heard in your voice, it was something he hadn’t even realized he was looking for, something that he was missing.

You’d downplay yourself more times than once, always riding about how indecisive you were. You weren’t indecisive. You were passionate. You wanted to make sure you enjoyed everything life gave you, you didn’t want to miss out. Maybe you took a little longer to decide on whether you wanted to try the blue fruity drink, or the red. Logan didn’t mind that though- it made the world slow down when you took your time. His world was rushed, he never took a moment to appreciate where he was till he was with you.

He was excited about you- which is why he never pushed you toward any more…physical connections. He knew you’d open up to him when you were ready. He just had to keep himself satisfied by getting himself off to the thought of you every night since he’d met you. How badly has he resisted the urge to rip off your pretty little dress that hugged your curves and ruin you. He knew he’ll get that chance eventually- he was arrogant like that. He was willing to take time, especially considering he still had to tell you about who he was- something he wasn’t quite sure how to approach, since it hadn’t been an issue before with his no-strings-attached lifestyle.

Seeing you pulling away from him sent him into something dark and possessive. He could see where your indecisiveness was an issue- but he refused to let it be that way. You were the best thing he’s come across in over a century, He certainly wasn’t going to let that go over some uncertainty.

He knew you wanted him. He could smell it off you every time you met up, he could see it in your eyes the way you traced over his figure, a small blush coming to your cheeks and you’d quickly look away. How’d you get flustered when he’d get closer, putting his hand on your knee and squeezing, before letting his flinger flit underneath the hem of your dress, teasing you.

He had no problem getting rid of your doubts.

You stepped out of the shower, steaming filling the bathroom, as you grabbed your robe, something silky and small, barely covering you even as you tied the robe shut. You used a towel to dry your hair, and brushed your teeth, unknowing of the man lurking in your living room- waiting for you to come out.

After you brushed your teeth, your hair- you were ready for bed. You stepped out of the bathroom, steam pouring out through the doorway into the dark hallway. You begin turning towards your bedroom when a voice reaches your ear, and sends goosebumps down your arms.

“You take a long time in there.”

You turned around with a gasp. Logan was standing in front of your door, a faint smile on his face, and a look in his eye you’re not sure was anger or lust. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, as he stood there. You swallowed, your heart beginning to pound.

“Lo…Logan what…What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You asked, trying to hide the fear you felt beginning to rise in you.

“Wanted to see you.” He says, taking a step forward. “You rushed out tonight.”

“I…I’m sorry I was just…I was tired, long day.” You stammered. His eyes went down, tracing over you, and it occurred to you that you were barely clad in your robe. You pulled it shut around your chest area, attempting to keep yourself covered. A frown came across his face.

“Don’t do that.” He says stepping closer to you. “Don’t cover what’s mine.”

“Excuse me?” You say with a bit of disbelief. “Logan I…I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings or something but you coming in here like this is…is…”

“Is what doll?” He smirked. He was in front of you now, towering over you. You avoided looking at him, annoyed because his proximity to you was making your thighs clench together. You knew it was wrong, he practically broke into your apartment. Any other sane woman would be screaming their heads off, telling him to get out, throw things at him!

Yet the closer he stood to you, the less fear you felt, and more curiosity of what he was planning came to mind.

“Not sure what to say?” He asks a quirk of arrogance in his tone. You swallowed, and you finally looked up at him. He brought his hand up, his pointer finger tucking underneath your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He smirked. “Feeling indecisive again sweetheart?” He coos.

“Logan…”

“Feeling unsure about us?” He asks. You blink in surprise, your expression confirming his suspicions. He tuts, shaking his head, his hand slowly but firmly grabbing your face, his thumb and finger digging into the fat of your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker. It was a move of dominance you hadn’t seen from him before, and you were ashamed to say you absolutely loved it. “How about I make that decision for you?” He says in a low voice. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy and rough kiss, your hands coming up to press against his chest - you’re still unsure about pulling him closer, or pushing him away.

Before you could react, he grabbed you, his arm around your waist as he lifted you, before roughly bringing you to the carpeted floor with him ontop of you.

Holy shit

He let go of you, his hand reaching down, ripping the belt of your robe off, and the silk fell to the side, exposing you completely to him. You gasped.

“Logan!” You reached your hand out, for what you didn’t know. He grabbed it, and your other hand, pinning them above your head as he used his knees to kick your legs open, his thighs pressing against yours-keeping them spread. Your skin felt on fire, embarrassment at being exposed like this running through you, making your body shiver as Logan stared down at you, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as if he was looking down at a full course meal. You knew it was wrong- you shouldn’t let him do this, but arousal began coating your heat between your legs, you felt yourself aching for stimulation- and you couldn’t help but find yourself loving how he took charge of you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had fantasies of him taking you like this before…You just never thought that would ever happen.

“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined…” He mutters, his eyes trailing over every inch of you. He used one hand to keep yours pinned above you, as his free hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple as it hardened under his touch, making you whimper as you began to squirm under him. “Don’t act like you don’t want this sweetheart.” He looks back up at you, “You’re soaked, see?”

His hand let go of your breast, two fingers swiping through your folds, making your hips jerk up, as he chuckled, holding the two fingers up and examining the slick he collected on them. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips as he brought them to his mouth, his tongue coming and tasting you on his fingers. He let out a deep groan as he closed his eyes, sticking his fingers into his mouth and taking the rest of your essence.

“Fuck.” He hissed. He let go of your wrists, his arms going under your thighs and lifting your upper half up to his face as he was still on his knees. You yelped, your hands came down to the floor, as you attempted to make up for the awkward position he dragged you in, your thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held a death grip on your hips.

His nose pressed to your mound, taking a deep inhale of you, and you covered your mouth as your face ran red hot at the filthy action.

God, he’s filthy!

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, and let out an involuntary moan. His tongue ran rough circles around your clit. Your head tipped back, your eyes rolling. He began eating you out, almost desperately, his tongue dipping into your pulsing cunt, before licking another stripe through you, and nipping at your clit. It made your hips jerk and a whine escaped you.

You couldn’t take this, the way he was munching on you like a man starved, how your lower half body was suspended in air, you had no control. You melted into him, your hand finally reaching up to grip his hair- making him groan, his eyes opening to look down at you. You felt a honey-tight feeling in the pit of your stomach, and with little control you had, attempted to grind your hips against his face. You snapped, and a heat of release ran through you, soaking his face in your fluids.

You couldn’t completely tell in your post-coitus haze, but you swear he was laughing.

You were lowered down to the carpet, thighs spread and trembling.

“The things I’m going to do to you…” You heard him mutter. You felt his hands grab you again, and flip you on your stomach. His knees kept your legs spread, lifting your ass in the air, and he leaned over your body, bracing one arm next to your head. You heard him shuffling, the clink of his belt.

You felt his tip brush through your slit and gasped.

Fuck, he’s huge

You felt his breath on your ear. “You’re so damn gorgeous darling. I’ve been obsessed with you since we met.” He says lowly, sending goosebumps through your skin. “Tell me sweetheart, are you unsure about us now?” He mutters. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head. He smirked, something devilishly, as he pushed his tip inside you. “Good.” he growls, before pushing himself inside.

You cried out, the mere size of him felt like too much as he stretched you out. “Sshh, you’re alright.” He cooed, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, while his other braced himself on top of you. “You can take it sweet girl- fuck-” He pressed his head into yours, “You feel so good.”

Your body trembled under him, he moved his hips back, before thrusting into you slowly again, allowing you to adjust to his size. His chest pressed against your back, you could feel the complete weight of him on top of you. Not crushing you- something that felt completely safe and warm.

“Logan-” You whined, desperate for more, arching your back against him. He chuckled, a sound that shot straight through you, making you clench around him.

“I got you baby, just relax.” He mutters, before he picks up his pace, thrusting in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. He held onto your jaw, his nose pressing into your hair as you listened to him grunt and growl with each thrust.

He got faster, your arms stretched out, hands attempting to grip the carpet for some kind of leverage. He was going so fast you don’t even know how he managed to have the stamina, as your eyes rolled back, the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was enough to make you go dumb and pliant. He suddenly slowed down, making deep- slow thrusts where he nearly pulled completely out, before burying himself inside you again, making you cry out. The hand cradling your jaw came up, covering your mouth to hide your noises.

“Much as I like hearing those pretty noises, don’t need the neighbors complaining darling.” He mutters. He picked his pace again, pounding into your pussy, your whole body shaking underneath him. His arm that kept him braced on the floor wrapped around your hip, his hand gripping at your love handles, angling you higher- practically folding your body in half against him.

The new angle made you feel like you were going to pass out. His cock was pounding into that special spot, making you unable to think of anything, as your body hummed with your second orgasm, approaching quickly. You began whining his name into his hand, and he grunted.

“Fuck, fuck keep saying my name.” He growled, moving his hand from your lips a bit, just so he could hear you repeating his name over and over. “Oh fuck-”

His hands released his grip on you, as they came into your view, fists slamming into the floor- and your eyes widened as your watched sharp bone-like appendages protrude from his fist.

Oh shit-

You couldn’t barely react or acknowledged anything, as the tight thread that was growing in your stomach accordance with Logans thrusts finally snapped, waves of ecstasy rolling over your body, over and over as your eyes rolled back, and Logan’s hips snapped against your ass one more time, filling you up with warm spurts of his cum. He whined and grunted, a few lazy thrusts as he continued spilling into you, before finally stopping, his head collapsing onto your shoulder.

Your heart was racing, and you could barely see straight from the explosive orgasm that ran through you, but you attempted to focus on his hands, where the sharp appendages were still out. Your hand reached out, gently touching his, and he loosened his fist as you ran your fingers over his palm. You felt him pressing kisses along your shoulder.

“You okay?” He muttered softly. You nodded, swallowing.

“You’re a mutant?”

“Yeah.” He says. That explains the stamina

You didn’t know much about them, other than the fact that the U.S government announced that they were real and a part of the population. Some people were terrified of the idea- but you simply thought nothing of it. Just cause they could do things some couldn’t didn’t mean they weren’t people either- just like Logan. “That bother you?”

“No…” You shook your head, still looking at his hand. He chuckled.

“You were quick to answer that one.”

“Nothing to be unsure about with that.” You say matter-of-factly. He leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Good.” He mutters. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet sweetheart.”

“Wait- what?”

You shrieked as he pulled out, pulling you up from the ground.

You spent the rest of the night being completely undone by him. He made sure to fuck out any doubt or questions you had about you and him- at least physically. He plans to make sure you never have to feel unsure about him ever.

Something about Logan doing what he did solidified your decision, it wasn't just how the sex was great- but the way he desperately wanted to show you he cared- that he could take care of you, that he wanted to be apart of your life. He may have acted like he was in control, but every movement, every touch, kiss, thrust- felt like he was begging for you to keep him around. There was still things to talk about- such as the mutant thing, but your connection had officially solidified, as you felt you finally made a decision you can add to your list of 'good decisions'.

The next morning, you woke up in bed, wrapped in his arms. Fatigue plagued you, and you barely could feel your legs after the positions he’d managed to put you in- positions you didn’t even know existed. He woke from your shifting, eyes looking at you with adoration and a faint smile on his face.

“Morning doll.” He greets, voice low with an edge of sleep.

“Morning Lo.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his chest.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.” You nod. He sat up, an arm still wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned over you.

“What d’ya want for breakfast?” He asks. You looked up at him with a raised brow, reminding him of your indecisiveness and he chuckled, a small shake of his head. “Alright. Alright. How about waffles?”

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #vans daydreams #wolverine smut #logan x curvy reader #this is the first time approaching a certain kink don't judge me #i have a few others in my drafts that are sooo much worse

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finelinevogue · 3 days ago

Text

take care of you

summary - Aaron comes home in the middle of the night after you miss his calls, thinking something terrible has happened

word count - 1k

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

Aaron was only slightly panicking.

You had told him that you would wait up for him. You knew this case was a hard one for him and so you had promised to be there for him when he got home. You never broke a promise.

The fact that you hadn't answered his texts since he had landed back in Virginia was troubling him though.

He had barely said goodbye to his team before getting in his car and racing back home. He needed to see you and he needed to see you now.

As Aaron stopped at a red light he picked his phone back up again, taking note of the last few texts he had sent.

(10:36 PM) Aaron: Landed. Will be home soon

(10:58 PM) Aaron: Are you still up?

(11:05 PM) Aaron: Sweetheart if you're still awake can you just let me know you're okay?

Maybe it was the cynical criminal profiler in him, but you would never willingly go back on your word. It terrified him to know what kind of sick people lived in this world and how easily they could infiltrate an innocent life like yours.

Aaron was now spiralling, thinking the very worst.

He tried telling himself that you could simply be asleep, or perhaps you were in the shower - a thought he did not need to distract himself with currently - but his mind kept on coming back to the worst situations.

Kidnapped. Tortured. Assaulted. The list goes on.

As he pulled up the car onto the front drive, he made quick work of exiting and shutting everything off. Aaron didn't fumble around with his keys as he opened the door - he was too driven by motivation of seeing you to be distracted.

He called your name as he entered the front door.

"Y/N?"

No answer.

Aaron dropped the house and car keys in the porcelain bowl by the front door, not even bothering to take off his shoes or blazer like you normally make him do.

He popped his head into the first sitting room.

No one.

"Sweetheart?"

No answer.

The lights were on in the kitchen but no one was there. The sink was empty but there were freshly washed dishes on the side waiting to be put away.

"Y/N, honey?"

He strode into the lounge last and breathed the deepest sigh of relief when he noticed your body nestled deep into the sofa, blanket over your body, hair so messy and mouth open catching flies.

Aaron ran a stressed hand back over his head, thanking whatever deity he sometimes believed in for watching over you and for everything turning out to be alright.

He waisted no time in rounding the sofa.

He moved your body slightly further back into the sofa so he could perch on it too. Aaron's hand ran over your cheek, physically checking that you were okay.

His movements must have disturbed whatever REM sleep you were getting.

"Aaron?" You mumbled, focusing on whether the man in front of you was real or a figment of your imagination, "What—what’s wrong?"

He chuckled to himself.

You were always so quick to detect when something was the matter with him. You joked that the tell was all in the kind of frown he wore. Aaron didn't believe a word of it, but it was true. The subtlest of differences of his frown could mean a complete change in emotion.

This particular frown told you he was anxious. Worried about something.

Aaron's voice trembled as he spoke, “I’ve been calling you for hours. Texted you a few times too. You didn’t answer and I thought—”

You could tell he was struggling to steady himself, so you sat up from where you had been laying down and moved your body close to his. You dipped your head down to catch his eyes, bringing his focus back to you.

Your hands gently cupped each of his cheeks with tender care. His stubble was already coming through, which was a sign that this had been an exhausting case. If Aaron was even the slightest bit dishevelled you knew it was bad.

“I’m so sorry. I ran out of TV to watch and then I think I fell asleep."

"Didn't take a profiler to know you were asleep, honey. Your mouth was wide open." Aaron joked, trying to lighten the situation. It sort of worked, before he grew more serious again, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded, leaning in to give him a kiss. It was the simplest gesture you could think of to show that you were sorry for putting him through that. You couldn't have imagined how scary that must have been for him, especially in his line of work.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise."

"I know, but I am. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Aaron's hands come around your waist and you take it as your queue to move yours to wrap around his neck. Both of you pulled each other in for a tight hug, needing to feel the warmth of each others embrace.

You held each other for a few moments, neither one of you in a rush to let go.

“After the case we just had… I can’t lose you. I just can't.” He mumbled into your neck.

You squeezed your arms around him a little tighter before letting go slowly. He moved back in tandem with you, but moved his hands so he could cup your cheeks this time.

"I’m here.”

It was as much as you could reassure him for now.

You could see the tension melt away from Aaron. His frown of anxiety turned back to his regular frown, bordering on the smile that you were the only privileged enough person to see.

“You look exhausted." You said.

You smiled sweetly as you stroked back the hair from his forehead and pushed it back in line. The bags under his eyes were tomorrow's problem, but nothing a good night's sleep tonight couldn't fix.

Aaron gave you a tired huff, but didn't argue.

"Let me take care of you tonight, okay?” You asked.

Aaron shook his head, "That's my job to take care of you, not the other way..."

"Shut up. Tonight I’m in charge so deal with it.” You kissed him to prove that you were in charge - if only for tonight.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #bau #bau team

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st4ringlow · 2 days ago

Text

suna rintarou x reader

bestfriends to lovers. just fluff. very rushed, sorry for everything you find unpleasant. idk what else do i put here

"what do you want for your birthday?"

suna hums in contemplation, munching on the cucumber salad you were eager to try from a tiktok influencer you've seen. now that he thinks of it, his birthday is just a few days away. "dunno, if i say it are you even able to afford it?" he said, a teasing smirk grows as he watches you roll your eyes. "i'd like to know still but just so i can have more reason to hate the rich," you said nonchalantly, popping another cucumber slice into your mouth. you hear suna hums again, a temporary silence keeping you both company as the man beside you puts his thinking cap to work.

"a cartier watch,"

"jesus you're fucking high-demand,"

"lol"

"dont 'lol' me in an oral conversation," your response earns a laugh from suna, who clearly enjoys having you annoyed. you roll your eyes again, wiping the sauces on your hand. "whats up with you and your obsession with watches, geez," you ask, but it didnt really come off a question but rather a subtle insult of 'hey man youre just so weird '. suna knows that.

"oh, a man cant have a hobby now?" suna scoffs, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. "you spent thousands on each of them, rin," you said, voice bolding at the word 'thousands'. you watch him shrugs as he scrolls on his phone. "so?"

"you have 10 of them already!"

"yeah and i dont have a cartier watch yet,"

"youre crazy,"

"crazy? i was crazy once,"

"dude shut up,"

"okay,"

there was a silence filling up the room as you both stopped talking, only the sound of the tv playing in the background. "seriously though, what do you want for your birthday?" you broke the silence, tone coming out more serious this time. suna looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity. "honestly? i havent really thought about it," he admits. "why? so eager to please the birthday boy, huh?" the corners of his lips lifts up, seeing you got worked up by his last remark.

"am not,"

suna chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "sure, sure," he teases, leaning back on the couch. "but seriously, i havent given it much thought. maybe... just spending time with you would be enough."

you feel your heart skip a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "oh, come on, you can do better than that," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "there must be something you want."

suna's gaze softens as he looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips. "well, if you insist... how about a day where we just do all our favorite things together? no distractions, just us."

suna watches as your mouth falls open, unable to spit out a word. a blush creep up on your cheeks, and he cant help but find it endearing.

"are you trying to hit on me?"

"is it not obvious enough?"

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #inarizaki #hq fluff #hq x reader #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintarō #hq suna #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou #rintarou x reader #haikyuu rintarou #rintarou suna

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on-a-lucky-tide · 1 day ago

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Simon is left to herd a drunk Nik back to the hotel room.

cw: alcohol mention, horniness.

"Do-o-on't go was-ting your emo-o-tion, lay a-all your lo-o-ve on me-e-e! Hrk, heh heh." Nik tightened his arm around Simon's shoulders as they clambered out of the taxi and Simon had to readjust quickly to avoid getting pulled back into the backseat. When he went out drinking with Johnny and Garrick, it was usually a case of scruffing them by the back of the coat and hauling them ‘round like boisterous puppies, but Nik was the same height, a few pounds heavier due to his bulk, and a damn sight more fuckin’ handsy than the two sergeants. If they got to the hotel without Nik copping a feel and Simon getting a responding boner, then the operation should be considered a success.

"Cheers, mate," Simon grunted at the cabbie, tapping his card against the outstretched machine. He paused long enough to watch the little tick flash up on the screen before shoving his wallet away. "Nik, fockin'... Put yer arm... easy, easy." Nik staggered and Simon placed a hand on his chest to keep him upright, trying not to focus on how nice his damn tits felt beneath his buttoned shirt.

They had been drinking with Mac following a long conference in Westminster. It turned out that the old man, ten years senior even to Nik, was a bad fuckin' influence because they had knocked back enough liquor between the two of them to sedate an amatuer county rugby team.

Simon and Price had sat there, watching the whole thing go down in stunned silence, clutching their pints with the same look on their faces as tourists watching a pride of lions tear apart a gazelle on the Serengeti; one part awe, one part intrigue, two parts horror. Shot after shot, pint after pint; Mac's accent becoming unintelligible and Nik slipping in and out of multiple languages like he'd completely lost track of where he was. When Nik had stood on the table to sing an off-key rendition of KISS’ ‘Made for Lovin’ You’ while pointing directly at Price, the landlord had turfed ‘em out onto the street.

The old man was taking the old-old man back to his hotel, because trying to manage Mac and Nik together was beyond the capabilities of even the greatest minds in MI6, let alone two drunk SAS officers. Divide and conquer was the order of the night.

"I still don't know what you've done-with-me... hrk, brp. A grown-up woman should never fall-so-eas-i-ly," Nik brayed, finding a hip flask from somewhere inside his bloody jacket as they ambled an uneven path to the front door. Simon promptly confiscated it, shoving it into his backpocket. Nik pouted, but soon got distracted by the star-studded sky above their heads, his expression turning wistful as he put one unsteady foot in front of the other. "'Cause everything is new, and everything is you..."

Simon managed to get them through the hotel foyer after scanning the key card, and manhandled Nik towards the lift. "You skipped a verse."

"Shtoh?" Nik hiccuped again, suddenly leaning in close and watching the side of Simon's masked face through his eyebrows. The cold tip of his nose brushed against Simon’s exposed earlobe and it sent a shiver across his shoulders, Nik’s lips and teeth so close to his hammering pulse.

Simon didn't know why he fockin' said it. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. "It's ‘I feel a kinda fear, when I don't 'ave ya near, un-sat-isfied, I skip my pride, I beg you, dear.’"

"You do not have - hrk - to beg me, lieutenant. I would drop to my knees for you at - hic - a word."

Simon shoved Nik into the lift and slapped the buttons, propping the massive arsehole against the mirror with both hands. Nik took his opportunity and placed both hands on the swell of Simon's chest with a longing little groan, palms brushing over peaked nipples as his fingertips caressed the sides. "Ty takaya goryachaya, chto u menya stoyak na stoyake."

"Nik, ya bloody pervert, ya gavaryu paruskee," Simon huffed. He didn’t push Nik’s hands away. It was too late. His jeans had pulled tight at the crotch, his hands braced on the cold glass as he leaned in so that Nik would be firmer.

Nik wriggled his eyebrows as he squeezed, ignoring the intensity of Simon's deadpan stare in favour of enjoying the feel of his body through his cotton shirt. Simon's skin exploded with goosebumps as those big hands swept over his collarbones and shoulders, before swooping down to the dips of his waist. He was thicker where Price was athletic, but damn if Nik's hands didn't made him feel... handled. When those strong fingers slid through the loops of his jeans and pulled him forward so their hips slotted together, Simon had to swallow the needy little sound building in his throat. God, fuck, Nik was hard too. It would feel so good to rut against him like a humpin’ dog—

The lift pinged and the doors slid open behind him. With great effort, he dragged Nik into the hallway towards his room. Unfortunately, Nik had decided to become even more unhelpful, one hand swooping beneath Simon's shirt to the blond scruff of his happy trail with a horny rumble that shot straight to Simon's groin, and he had to readjust so his damn chubby could find a bit of extra space down his right trouser leg.

"The things I would do to you," Nik growled into Simon's neck as Simon fumbled the key card out of his jacket.

"'Mount you just sunk I'd be surprised if you could keep it up, old man," Simon replied, shoving the door handle down with his elbow and falling across the threshold into Nik's room. In three strides, he was dumping over two hundred pounds worth of lecherous Russian onto the mattress, only for said Russian to latch on and drag him down too.

"You are so prickly, lieutenant," Nik murmured, big arms clutching Simon's face to his chest. "But such a - hrk - handsome boy."

"Nik let me ge' m' face out ya tits so I c'n get ya boots off,” Simon said, muffled by said tits and not really wanting to leave them, because Nik smelled bloody edible.

Nik let out a dramatic sigh and flopped his arms out either side, and Simon slipped away to remove his boots and jacket. His hands hesitated as they rose to Nik's belt, noting that alcohol had clearly done little to dampen his spirits. Simon swallowed thickly and pulled back. “Need a slash,” he murmured as he fled into the en suite for a bit of a breather. When he released his cock from the confines of his jeans, it bobbed up eagerly towards his stomach. So much for a fuckin’ piss. Simon braced his hands against the sink and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of anything but Nik’s big hands sliding down its length as he sat across that warm stomach, feeling all that core strength and fur between his thighs, maybe that clever bloody mouth swallowing him down after he fucked Nik’s tits, and.. “Fuck sake.”

Think of Mac. Wrinkly ballsacks, false teeth, old man smell… anything.

Simon looked up quickly when he heard the sound of the minibar opening and the first notes of music from the television. “Nikolai,” he grunted in exasperation, tucking his now semi-erect dick back into his boxers as he headed back into the main room to corral the captain’s bloody boyfriend into a glass of water and a kip.

“The night is young,” Nik said as Simon approached him, thrusting a bottle of beer into his hands. “And, perhaps, I can convince you into a few more poor choices before it is over.”

Simon stared at the bottle and then Nik’s broad grin. He drew in a deep sigh and unhooked the mask from his ear. “Fine. But when Price gets ‘ere, you’re dealin’ with the bollockin’.”

“Deal.”

—

Mac had fallen asleep on the cab journey back to his hotel and Price had half carried him to his bed, staying long enough to top up a glass of water and make sure the old man didn’t suffocate face down in his sleep, before heading back to his own for what he thought would be some shut eye, maybe some sloppy head from a horny Russian if he was lucky. As he stepped out of the lift, he heard the low thump-thump of music from down the hall, and it only grew louder the closer he got to his room.

The sight that met him when he tapped the key card and opened the door would live with him as a fond memory until the end of his days. Nik and Simon were half undressed, jeans and socks on the floor, Nik’s shirt unbuttoned, as they bounced enthusiastically on the bed, sheets and pillows dishevelled. The music playing from the television was some corny pop track from 2014 — "Oh, don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me." I said, "You're holding back." She said, "Shut up and dance with me!” — and they were both crowing along to the lyrics, the remains of the mini bar toasted at the ceiling.

“Bloody muppets,” Price said through a fond chuckle as he closed the door. If they ended up in a pile of semi-naked bodies, occasionally waking to press lazy kisses to whatever patch of skin was closest, and Simon’s room next door remained empty for the night… well, brass didn’t need to know, did they?

#cod nikolai #simon ghost riley #captain john price #nikprice #ghostnikprice #cw alcohol #part dedication to the night rem and i had on both ends of ol blighty

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meanbossart · 2 days ago

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Hey, I was just thinking about Drow as a companion, you've talked a little about what you think he would be like. Have you thought about how he would act at the goblin vs. the tiefling party in act one?

Good question! Supporting the grove happens to be one of those unambiguously good choices that he is 100% behind. He finds Khaga (and the druids in general) to be insufferable, despises Minthara because she's a drow and a cultist, and most importantly cares about the tiefling children's safety. Because of this, he will likely be unhappy about the grove being raided... Yet, not enough to leave the party or strongly challenge a Tav on it. Massacring the grove would sate that blood-lust in himself, and he would draw pleasure from it, despite it going against his bare-bones morality. DU drow would be too conflicted about his own feelings about it to express himself strongly one way or another after the deed is done, kind of like Shadowheart reacts to the whole ordeal.

If you save the grove, you will find him sampling from Mol's secret wine stash. Mol tells you they cut a deal and you can either pay her the 100 gold you "owe" her for his antics, or tell her to sod off.

You can then find DU drow hidden away and drinking himself into a stupor. He's still coherent but occasionally slurring his words, clearly a really experienced drunk. He talks about Mol, how he thinks she's a riot and just thought he'd teach her a valuable lesson about business. If you ask him why he's isolated himself, he will jokingly say he's too humble to be showered in all this praise. You can succeed an insight check to find out that he's nervous about something.

If you ask what he thinks about what you've done, he's expresses indifference about the adults but, again, that he's glad the children are okay.

Tav: You're drinking like a man with a guilty conscience. Just to remind you - we're the good guys tonight. The drow: (Scoffs) The hellspawn aren't making it far. They are too... too bright-eyed. We've only put-off the inevitable. ...I only lament the fates of the children. The little sods didn't choose this life. Tav: They're clever enough. I'm sure they'll be alright. The drow: Cleverness can only get you so far. They're still little.

You can trigger his romance here, but you can't have sex with him yet. Through being flirtatious but not pushy he will promise you to pick this up another time, when he's not quite so indisposed. The scene would trigger during the next event-less long-rest.

In the goblin party, on the other hand, he will be found standing at his tent as normal. He's sober and there's no nervousness to be uncovered through any checks, in fact, he doesn't seem to be in too foul a mood - but he does treat you with a degree of coldness.

Tav: You seem a little pouty. Don't tell me you're sour about a few dozen dead tieflings. The drow: Not at all - the ceremony was quite lovely, I'm just finding the reception to be... Lackluster. Tav: Oh - the goblins aren't worth your company, your highness? The drow: They aren't even worth roasting for supper. To make no comment of the head-fanatic - you'd be spewing her out both ends for days, if you chose to indulge.

As long as you don't antagonize him for his diarrhea joke, you get to actually have sex with him that very night as well as trigger the romance.

As an addition - if he's in your party he will actually kill Minthara when she tries to turn against you in the middle of the night. You still have to fight all of the goblins after this, but she will have her throat slit by him during the cutscene. This means you can only recruit both of them if you knock her out at the goblin camp.

#ask #companion du drow

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 days ago

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Omni-man being defeated in battle and subsequently dominated? Maybe the trophy wife concept you mentioned in the NSFW alphabet for him?? I just love him

Nolan Grayson x Galactus inspired male reader

Headcanons

Imagine a big evil smirk growing on my face when I saw this request. set somewhere after Nolan leaves earth and Mark has taken Oliver back to earth.

Readers inspired by Galactus. Because I go apeshit for extreme size differences. I wanted this to be smutty, but it just ended up getting kinda cracky...

had a lot of fun writing this reader, would love to write him again.

You were an ancient immortal being known for devouring planets for power, feared across the universe and multiverse. You fought many battles with the people of viltrum, mainly because of how powerful you were and how much of a threat you posed. Of course, they never won, which wounded their ego.

But at some point, you guys struck a deal. You would stop attacking them and they would stop attacking you. You guys would stay out of each other’s way and territory. Sometimes they would even offer you planets if your heralds found it worthy of consumption.

How Nolan fell into your lap could happen in many ways, but I find the most interesting being him leaving Andressa and Thraxa. Maybe he travels so far, he succumbs to exhaustion like when he left earth, and he just happens to fall right into your giant palm.

You weren’t mindlessly evil, but you weren’t good either. And the small violent viltrumites had always intrigued you. You had always wanted one of them to be a herald of yours, but you also knew you wouldn’t have their loyalty.

Nolan would wake up well rested and healed, curled up on a hard purple surface which he would later realize is your palm. You had been floating through the universe simply holding him like one would hold a little bird or mouse, or maybe more a small vulnerable flower petal.

Nolan has most likely lived long enough to have fought you before, so he knows who you are, what you can do, and the deals he’s broken by ending up in your territory. Maybe hes just too depressed to care about himself, his people, anything.

To you, hes kind of like a little pathetic creature, like how we see a baby animal missing a leg and coo, wanting to keep it and care for it. well, maybe its more like you want to own him. A being like yourself don’t experience emotions like everyone else, but there’s interest.

It’s a bit sad to see a viltrumite so wilted and weakened. You had expected a fight, and order your heralds to try and goad him into one so you can crush his will yourself. But Nolan just sits on your palm with a blank look in his eyes, even as you devour planets right in front of him.

The whole “wife” process kind of starts up after Nolan and you have shared silence for a while, who knows how long. The universe is vast, and you guys just keep moving from one planet to the next.

Maybe he just starts telling you about his life on earth, his wife, or wives, his sons, how he’s starting to think everything he’s learned maybe isn’t right. How he’s tired and feels like he doesn’t have a purpose.

In the beginning you offer to make him one of your heralds, but being able to enter people’s minds you also pick through his memories, wants and deeper wishes.

A being like yourself has never had much interest in a spouse, at least after ascending into what you are now. There is the fact that you will exist until the universe ends completely, how you travel the dark emptiness of space, and how you are one of the most evil beings in the universe, if others ask.

Sliding the mental image into Nolans head, of being your so called “wife” is the first time you get a major reaction out of him. Maybe its viltrumite instinct or his own pride, but he wont just take it laying down.

Fighting him isn’t a challenge for you, you could have crushed him very easily, but you make it seem like you put in an effort to calm whatever struggles Nolan might have in his mind. It’s only after you’ve defeated him, and there’s literally nothing else he can do that Nolan will shyly agree.

To him theres no life to return to, so why not live out that little fantasy of his. It’s not like you’ll demand him to do more carnal wifely acts… right?

(spoiler, you will, but that comes later when you guys gain a deeper more intense attraction to each other. And when that time comes Nolan agrees very willingly)

In the beginning there isn’t really any change in the relationship you guys already had. Being a literal cosmic being means you normally don’t feel a lot of carnal urges or wants, so it’s all up to Nolan to make a move.

You visiting Herald almost choked when they saw Nolan floating up to your massive face and kiss your lips, even if he only is able to kiss your bottom lip.

The other Heralds also have a similar reaction when you start referring to Nolan as your wife. They can’t question you, and some of them just give Nolan a “good luck” and are on their way.

You don’t really care whatsoever about gendered terms, and as much as Nolan blushes and denies it, your mental bond lets you feel how much he likes being called Wife.

Its digging around Nolans mind that you see his deeper fantasies and start bringing out the things that go along with it. like, materializing a skimpy “slave” outfit for him, in purple and blue of course so he matches you.

When you order him to shave his beard Nolan almost, almost, blows up and starts arguing. But deep down he also knows its what he wants, to disconnect himself completely from who he was before and just allowing himself to be someone new.

At some point you start referring to him as your “viltrum slave” and later just “slave wife” because it gets Nolan really excited, if you know what I mean. Being mentally connected means that Nolans pleasure is your pleasure. You technically could shrink and enjoy the throes of the body with him, but being so much bigger excites both of you.

It does worsen your already horrible image somewhat, and give people stupid ideas. Planets start trying to offer you women, or their species version of it, to try and make you leave their planet. Its always denied though.

When planets realize you don’t want women, they start trying to offer you “wives” that look like Nolan, which just makes Nolan pissed, because he’s as possessive as you. On those planets you let him indulge in his viltrumite urge for destruction, before you devour it.

Nolan will regularly forget just how strong he is when he’s around you and your heralds. They start referring to him as your “pet” or “wife” too, just playing into Nolans little fantasy. And who are you to stop them? Happy wife, happy life.

This also just means that Nolan can shock himself by wiping out entire planets in hours. In the past it might have taken months or weeks, but with the cosmic powers from you as well, nobody really stands a chance.

It will be very fun if rumors get back to earth somehow that you have “kidnapped and enslaved” a rogue viltrumite. I’m not sure they’d send anyone to save Nolan, but they gotta live with that.

Maybe you pull up to earth for one reason or another. Big chance its because your scantily dressed wife has been fantasizing about this one gelato Nolan used to eat on the regular, so of course you have to go get it.

You could have sent your heralds or just teleported maybe Nolan to do it but… you want to go on a date…

So, you shrink from “I swallow planets whole” size to “im big enough to knock down this skyscraper” size, and just… appear on earth. Cue huge chaos and extreme fear, because you can’t tell me Cecil wouldn’t know of you at least.

Cue guardians of the globe pulling up, and someone, probably Rex, going “hold up… isn’t that your dad?” to Mark, because of course Nolan is sitting all pretty and “enslaved” looking on your shoulder.

The whole “slave” outfit also put these shackle looking things around Nolans wrists and ankles, as well as a collar, to make it look like you were somehow suppressing his powers. Sometimes they actually did that if you wanted them too. Most of the time it was for looks.

Its… very awkward. Nolan would be embarrassed if he hadn’t wiped out an entire planet wearing only a purple bra and panties once. This one is at least more like Leias slave outfit than the almost nonexistent stuff you sometimes had him wear.

Theres a chance its more surprising to see Nolan without his moustache honestly, than it is seeing him in the bra and fabric ensemble.

I have a feeling you would, in your powerful godly cosmic entity voice, booming loud enough for the entire state to hear, tell mark that he may refer to you as stepfather, if he would like.

Someone, Rex, would start wheezing so hard with laughter he would struggle not to pass out. I have a feeling most of the guardians would start snickering, except for the more serious ones like Rudy, who knows you could snuff them all out if you wanted.

For some comedy and crack, Debbie gives you, devourer of planets and immortal cosmic being, the shovel talk. Nolan is impressed that you seem more attentive to her words than entire planets begging for mercy.

Nolan doesn’t return to earth, or to Debbie or anything, but you do offer your stepson (Mark groans and covers his face), that you will help him out if he needs it. you also offer to play baseball with him, or take him to “the game” (you still don’t really understand what that is), for family bonding.

You keep eating planets, Nolan keeps being your little trophy wife, but maybe the ending of this universe won’t be the same as in the comics, since Mark now has his “sigh… step father” on his side. You and Nolan just keep being a happy married couple, in whatever way someone like you two can be.

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msfantasy · 18 hours ago

Text

Moving Day

Ghost Spirit x Reader

Summary: You buy an abandoned property

“Okay- something’s is clearly wrong with this place. There’s no way the selling price is this cheap.” You say to the realestate agent who stands nervously at the door. Her eyes darting around the house fearfully.

“The initial owner passed away suddenly in this house.” Your heart clenches painfully at that fact. “A lot of potential buyers have been disturbed by this.”

“That’s terrible…” You mutter sadly looking towards the rooms in question.

The agent swallows nervously. “Well- there are some owners and tenants claiming to feel the presence of a ghost. We even had some break their leases because of it.”

“Seriously? I would tolerate it for this price.” You really weren’t kidding. It was either this aesthetic family home or the more expensive mouldy apartment.

Stepping inside of one of the rooms, you are instantly hit with nostalgia. The room looks like it hasn’t been touched since the early 2000s. “Why has no one touched this room? Is there something wrong with it?” You call out to the agent that seems to be turning more pale.

“No one’s stayed here long enough to change it.” Now that’s peeked your interest.

“Really? This is actually so cool. If this were my house, I would just clean it up and leave as is- it’s like a time capsule.” The agent smiles kindly at you but you can see she’s antsy to leave. “Where do I sign? I love this home.”

Moving day was painfully long.

After all of your furniture moved in and the boxes were allocated to its intended room, you start with cleaning up the room filled with early 2000s decor.

You stripped down the bed and washed the sheets. Dusted all of the surfaces and vacuumed the floors. You even found a closet full of clothes that look well preserved but decided to wash them and fold them all anyways, just to keep them fresh. The room was sparkling clean when you were done with it. By the end of it, you were too exhausted to finish the rest of the house since you pretty much spent the whole day finding nostalgic items, and gushing on how you ‘always wanted this’ or ‘I use to have that’.

You took a long shower to wash off the days grime, feeling the sensation of being watched. After that, the presence only grew stronger as you pranced around your towel looking for your box of clothes, but you inevitably resign yourself to loosing your clothes box and end up taking some of the owners baggy boxer shorts and shirt. “Good thing I washed them!” You praise yourself for your accidental forward thinking and end up ordering some pizza and coke for dinner.

When the food arrived you prance happily back to the bedroom and put on Rush Hour on DVD and giggle happily at all the nostalgia of eating a huge pizza in a 2000s bedroom.

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, letting the movie continue playing in the background.

It’s amazing what you can sleep through, especially with a faceless man hovering over your sleeping figure as he tugs your hair behind your ear.

You felt the sensation of someone watching you again as you pull out your box of pyjamas from the fridge… “What the hell?” As soon as you went to take a seat on the dining chair you felt the sensation of sitting in someone’s lap, which caused you to shoot back up and inspect your empty surroundings.

But other than that, the ghostly presence seemed to just enjoy observing you. It never got in your way or taunt you- it would just watch. You really weren’t sure what the big deal was.

Except on the odd occasion when you feel the sensation of someone’s hand touching yours. That was a little unsettling but not completely unpleasant.

“Girlllll~ congratulations! You’re officially living in this creepy ass house.” Your best friend says over your FaceTime call. He leans into the camera, his eyes fixating on your background. “Girl, you better hire a damn priest or somethin’ to cleanse this house. There ain’t no way you volunteered to live in a haunted home like some dumb movie character.” Victor lectures with a dramatic flare.

“Relax- it’s fine.” You reassure yourself more than anything. “If it wanted me dead by now then I would be.”

Victor gasps at your statement. “Bitch! Are you crazy? Don’t dare the damn thing!” Victors reaction has you in stitches. “Do you think it’s a male or female?”

“Male. Definitely male.” You say, looking down at your screen to see Victors brow shot up.

“Miss Ma’am, how are going to be answering that so damn confidently.” You giggle again, scanning your surroundings as if you were checking to make sure the ghost wasn’t there … as if you could even see him.

“Sometimes when I shower-“

“Oh my gawd - you have yourself a crazy ass ghost that watches you shower?! Bitch it was nice knowing ya.” Victor says cutting you off, flailing in shock. “Wait a damn minute-“ Victor says, leaning into the call his brow raised. “You got yourself a lil ghost boyfriend?”

You belt out laughing. “Victorrr.” You drawl.

“Wha? I’m just saying it’s convenient! You get you a lil ghost boyfriend, you didn’t even have to leave the house which is a bonus for you.” He list on his fingers, before giving you a cheeky smile. “And maybe the ghost sex would be mind blowing!” Your giggling was interrupted with Victors screams.

“Victor?! What’s wrong?!” You ask worriedly watching Victor properly flailing around in a panic.

“Bitch did you not hear that?! How did you not hear that?!” Victors continues to panic waving his arms.

“Hear what?” You press, your heart racing.

“I heard a man’s voice literally say ‘I like him’! Girl I told you not to move into the ghost house and now the damn ghost is talking to me!” You begin to sweat nervously at Victors panicked reaction.

“Victor stop scarring me!” You whine, jumping up from the couch and taking refuge in your bedroom. Only you can’t. Your bedroom door remains locked, the door not budging and the handle remaining stuck.

“Oh girl I knew it! The ghost is trying to bed you!” Victor flails as you roll your eyes.

“The house is just old- sometimes the doors expand and get stuck…”

You look down at your screen and see Victor giving you the eye.

“Right … right… so you gonna sleep in his bed now?”

“…yeah.” Victor hums in a ‘I told you so’ tone.

“When you end up fuckin’ I wanna hear what it was like.” Victor states signing off for the night.

There’s no way … right?

#tw teratophilia #monster boyfriend x reader #monster boyfriend smut #monster x reader #monster smut #monster boyfriend #ghost smut #ghost x reader #spirit x reader #spirit smut

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antinousletmehit · 1 day ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 29 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇marriage woo

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The morning sun bathed the palace in a golden glow, the halls bustling with servants preparing for the grand occasion. It was finally the day of Telemachus and Y/N’s wedding, and the prince’s room was a chaotic mess of clothes, half-finished food, and an anxious groom pacing back and forth. “Would you stop moving already?” Acrisios groaned, sitting on a nearby stool, lazily polishing the prince’s ceremonial sandals. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor before you even make it to the altar.”

Telemachus shot him a glare, adjusting the hem of his intricate tunic for the fifth time. The deep royal blue fabric with golden embroidery symbolized his position as Ithaca’s prince and soon-to-be king, but it felt suffocating in the moment. “Do you even understand how nerve-wracking this is?!” Telemachus snapped, running a hand through his hair, which Acrisios had painstakingly styled. “This is the biggest day of my life! What if I trip? What if the people don’t approve? What if I—”

“What if you stop whining and let me do my job as your best man?” Acrisios interrupted with a smirk. He stood and shoved the sandals into Telemachus’s chest. “Put these on before you give me a headache.”

Telemachus huffed but obeyed, sitting down and sliding his feet into the sandals. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he grumbled. “It’s my wedding, Acrisios.”

“And you’re acting like it’s your funeral,” Acrisios shot back. “You’re marrying Y/N, not marching into war. You’ve been dreaming about this for months. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Telemachus paused, his hands stilling on the straps of his sandals. A small, nervous smile tugged at his lips. “I am happy,” he admitted. “I love her. I just… I want everything to be perfect.”

Acrisios clapped a hand on his shoulder, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. “You’re marrying y/n. To her, you’re already perfect, even if you somehow trip over your own feet walking down the aisle.”

Telemachus groaned, swatting his hand away. “You’re terrible at pep talks.”

“And yet, here I am, dealing with your royal tantrum,” Acrisios teased, stepping back to inspect him. “Now, stand up. Let me see how you look.”

Telemachus stood, awkwardly brushing at his tunic and trying to look regal. Acrisios tilted his head, pretending to scrutinize him with exaggerated seriousness. “Hmm… not bad. You almost look like a king.”

“Almost?” Telemachus raised an eyebrow.

“Well, let’s be honest, you’ll still look like a slob in her eyes,” Acrisios quipped with a grin. “But hey, at least you’ve got me here to make you look half-decent.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face. “Remind me again why I made you my best man?”

“Because no one else would put up with your whining,” Acrisios said, tossing him the ceremonial belt. “Now hurry up. You’ve got a wedding to survive, Your Highness.”

Telemachus finished fastening the belt, his nerves slowly being replaced with excitement. As he straightened his posture, a knock sounded at the door. A servant peeked in, bowing slightly. “Prince Telemachus, it’s time.”

Telemachus’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to Acrisios, who gave him a mock salute. “Go get her, stable boy.” With a deep breath, Telemachus nodded and stepped toward the door, his best man following close behind. Today, he wasn’t just a prince. He was a groom, a future king, and, most importantly, hers forever.

——

Y/N stood in her room, her fingers trembling as they traced the intricate floral embroidery on her white and gold wedding dress. The fabric clung delicately to her, cascading down like a waterfall of sunlight, and yet, the weight of the day seemed heavier than the gown itself. Her heart pounded as servants bustled around her, adjusting her veil and fastening her jewelry.

“Stop fidgeting,” Lethea’s soft, steady voice cut through the chaos, and she turned to see her best woman standing by the door, calm and collected as always. Lethea stepped closer. Even now, with just a few loose strands framing her face, she exuded poise and grace in her pale lavender gown. Her every movement was measured, like a hymn in motion, and her composure was a stark contrast to Y/N’s restless energy.

She let out a nervous laugh. “I can’t help it, Lethea. I feel like I’m about to walk into battle, not my wedding.”

Lethea raised an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Y/n, you’ve faced Antinous in a full-blown argument, Telemachus’s sulking, and a whole house full of suitors trying to make you miserable. And you’re worried about walking down an aisle?”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “That’s different! What if I trip? Or what if Telemachus gets cold feet? Or—”

“—what if I calmly remind you that Telemachus is probably more of a nervous wreck than you are right now?” Lethea interjected smoothly, her tone light with amusement.

She peeked at her through her fingers. “You think so?”

Lethea smirked faintly, adjusting her veil with practiced ease. “I know so. Acrisios is probably dragging him to the altar kicking and screaming by now.”

At that, she couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Marrying a prince, becoming royalty—it all feels so… surreal.”

Lethea took a step back, her gaze thoughtful. “It’s more than just becoming royalty. It’s about building a life with someone you love. And you love Telemachus, don’t you?”

She nodded, her cheeks warming. “I do. He’s… everything to me.”

Lethea’s eyes softened as she handed y/n her bouquet of fresh lilies and violets. “Then that’s all that matters. The rest will fall into place.”

She held the bouquet close, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you, Lethea. You always know exactly what to say.”

“Someone has to keep you from spiraling,” Lethea teased, stepping to her side. “Now, let’s get you ready to face the crowd. And no more fidgeting. You’re a bride, not a scared little girl.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but a genuine smile spread across her face. As she glanced at Lethea, she suddenly realized how serene and supportive her friend was, even in moments like these. “You know,” she said with a sly grin, “when are you going to get married? Maybe to a certain sailor who’s been mooning over you for months?”

Lethea’s poise cracked for just a second, her cheeks faintly pink as she cleared her throat. “This isn’t about me,” she said curtly, her voice betraying a flicker of embarrassment. “Focus on not tripping in front of Ithaca, y/n.”

Pandora took a deep breath, her nerves melting into a quiet confidence. With Lethea by her side, she felt ready to face anything—even the overwhelming emotions of her wedding day.

——

The grand hall of the palace was bathed in golden sunlight as it streamed through the high windows, illuminating the intricate carvings and tapestries that adorned the room. Ithaca’s most esteemed nobles and citizens were gathered, their murmurs of anticipation filling the air. At the center of it all, standing before a grand altar, was Telemachus. He fidgeted nervously, pulling at the collar of his royal tunic. Acrisios leaned over from his spot as best man, smirking. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

“Shut up,” Telemachus muttered under his breath, trying to appear composed as sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You’re about to be king, Telemachus. Try not to look like a scared boy,” Acrisios teased, though his tone carried a thread of genuine support.

The soft sound of a harp echoed through the hall, and the crowd’s chatter fell silent. All eyes turned to the entrance as Y/N stepped in, her arm gently linked with Penelope’s, who had insisted on walking her soon to be daughter-in-law down the aisle. She looked radiant. Her dress shimmered with every step, the golden embroidery catching the light. Her veil framed her face, but it couldn’t hide the nervous smile or the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes. She caught Telemachus’s gaze, and in that moment, her anxiety melted away.

Telemachus’s breath hitched as he watched her approach. Acrisios leaned closer and whispered, “Breathe, Telemachus. Don’t pass out before she gets here.”

“I’m fine,” Telemachus whispered back, his voice cracking slightly.

When she finally reached him, Penelope placed her hand over theirs, a soft smile gracing her lips. She whispered something to both of them, her voice too low for the audience to hear, before stepping back. The priest began the ceremony, his deep voice echoing through the hall. As he spoke of love, unity, and duty, her and Telemachus exchanged shy glances, their hands lightly trembling as they held onto one another.

When it came time for the vows, Telemachus cleared his throat, his voice steadier than he expected. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’ve been my anchor, my light, and my strength. I promise to honor you, protect you, and love you for all the days of my life.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she squeezed his hands. “Telemachus, you’ve shown me a love I didn’t think I deserved. You’ve stood by me, even when I couldn’t stand on my own. I promise to be your partner, your supporter, and your safe place, now and forever.”

The priest blessed their union, and the crowd erupted in cheers as Telemachus leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was sweet and gentle, but also filled with the promise of a future they were ready to face together. From the side, Acrisios clapped, grinning ear to ear, though he leaned over to Lethea and whispered, “Well, there goes my friend. Married and royal now. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

Lethea rolled her eyes, hiding a faint smile behind her hand. “Try not to ruin the moment, Acrisios.”

As Telemachus and her turned to face the crowd, the palace erupted in celebration. Musicians began playing, flowers were tossed in the air, and the people of Ithaca cheered for their new king and queen.

Telemachus looked down at her, his heart full. “We did it. We’re actually married.”

She smiled up at him, her hand slipping into his. “We are.”

——

The moon hung high over the palace, casting a soft silver glow over the stone halls. The wedding feast was still alive with music and laughter, but y/n had slipped away, a small slice of the wedding cake balanced carefully on a golden plate. She navigated the quiet, shadowed corridors with ease, her bare feet soft against the cold stone floors. She carried a lantern, its gentle flicker lighting her way down to the dungeon.

The guards nodded to her as she approached, recognizing her at once. She gave them a polite smile before they stepped aside, allowing her entry. Her heart thudded quietly as she descended the spiral staircase, the air growing cooler and heavier with each step. When she reached Antinous’s cell, she saw her brother lounging lazily against the wall, his hands chained but his posture still defiant. At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing briefly before softening when he saw her.

“Well, well,” Antinous drawled, sitting up straighter. “The bride herself. What are you doing down here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be upstairs, dancing and celebrating your big day?”

She ignored his teasing tone and stepped closer, pushing the plate through the bars. “I brought you some cake,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with guilt.

Antinous raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cake and then back at her. “Cake? How generous of my new king to spare me a slice,” he said sarcastically, but there was a hint of appreciation in his voice as he reached for it. “You’re lucky I’m starving.”

She leaned her forehead against the cool iron bars, watching him carefully. “I always imagined you’d be there,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her emotions. “That you’d walk me down the aisle. That you’d… give me away.”

Antinous froze mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air. His sharp, piercing eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, his usual smirk faded. “Y/n…” he began, his voice unusually soft, but he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he sighed, setting the plate down beside him.

“I know it’s ridiculous,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “But I used to picture it all the time when we were younger. You in something ridiculous and formal, grumbling about how much you hated it but still standing there because you’re my brother.” She laughed weakly, wiping at her eyes. “And now, I’m married, and you’re… here.”

Antinous looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back against the wall, his usual sarcasm returning like a shield. “Well, we can still make it happen. I’ll get a nice set of chains polished up, and you can parade me down the aisle next time. Very regal.”

She gave him a sharp glare, though it was half-hearted. “Don’t joke about this,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s not fair, Antinous. You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be there for me.”

His smirk faltered again, and he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his dark hair. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “I’ve done a lot of things—most of them bad. I don’t deserve to stand beside you on your big day. Hell, I don’t deserve that cake you just gave me.” He gestured toward the slice. “But… I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve that. Even if it’s with Telemachus.” He rolled his eyes slightly at the last part but softened when he saw her tear streaked face.

“I don’t care about what you’ve done,” she whispered fiercely, gripping the bars. “You’re still my brother. You’re all I have left of our family. Don’t you get that?”

Antinous stared at her for a moment, the vulnerability in her voice breaking through his defenses. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers through the bars. “You’re stronger than you think, N/N,” he said softly. “You don’t need me.”

��That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll always need you. No matter what happens.”

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, the silence heavy but comforting. Finally, Antinous smirked again, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Go back to your husband before he starts a search party. Telemachus doesn’t seem the type to handle being abandoned well, given the whole daddy situation.

She let out a small laugh, wiping her eyes again. “You’re probably right.” She stepped back, her hand lingering on the bars for a moment before she turned to leave. As she walked back up the stairs, her heart felt heavier than ever, torn between the life she was starting and the brother she couldn’t leave behind. She lingered by the iron bars for a moment longer, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her heart. She turned back to face Antinous, who was still sitting on the cold stone floor, absentmindedly poking at the slice of cake she’d brought him.

“You know,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head at him, “you could at least try to look a little happier about all this. After all, Telemachus is your brother-in-law now.”

Antinous froze mid bite, his fork hovering in the air. Slowly, he set it down, looking up at her with a glare sharp enough to cut through stone. “Don’t. Even. Start.”

Pandora grinned, her teasing gaining momentum. “Oh, but it’s true! You’re stuck with him now, Antinous. Family dinners are going to be so much fun. Just imagine, the two of you bonding over shared memories, bickering like proper brothers—”

“Y/N,” Antinous interrupted, his voice low and dangerous, “if you don’t stop, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Climb out of the dungeon?” she shot back, her grin widening. “Face it, big brother. Telemachus is officially part of the family. I can already picture the holidays. You, sulking in the corner while Telemachus tells that story about the time you got punched in the face by a cow—”

“That cow came out of nowhere!” Antinous snapped, his cheeks flushing as he scowled at her. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to play nice with him, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Oh, come on,” she teased, leaning closer to the bars. “You already did when you didn’t kill him the moment he walked into the palace. That’s practically a declaration of brotherly love!”

Antinous groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you so much right now. don’t get your hopes up, y/n. Just because I let him live doesn’t mean I’m going to start liking the guy. Especially not after he’s made my life hell just by existing.” Antinous looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Runs in the family,” she said with a wink. She took a step back, her smile fading into something softer. “I’ll see you soon, Antinous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving her off. But as she turned and walked back up the stairs, he watched her go with a faint, lingering smirk, muttering under his breath, “Brother-in-law. Gods help me.”

——

She pushed open the door to Telemachus’s room quietly, hoping to slip in unnoticed. She froze when she saw him pacing back and forth, his wedding robe slightly undone, his brow furrowed in frustration. The moment the door creaked, his head snapped up, and his worried expression quickly turned into anger.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

She hesitated, fidgeting with the folds of her gown. “I was… around,” she said evasively, trying to sidestep him, but Telemachus blocked her path.

“Don’t,” he said sternly, his jaw tightening. “Don’t give me that. You disappeared during our wedding, y/n. Tell me where you went.”

She sighed, crossing her arms and meeting his gaze defiantly. “I went to see Antinous.”

The room fell silent. Telemachus stared at her as if she’d just confessed to betraying him to the suitors. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and his voice dropped, dangerously quiet. “You left our wedding… to go visit him? Y/n, tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” she said, standing her ground. “He’s my brother, Telemachus. I couldn’t just leave him down there without checking on him.”

Telemachus’s face twisted with fury, and he let out a harsh laugh. “Your brother? The same man who wanted me dead? The same man who conspired with the suitors to kill me and take my mother as his wife? That’s who you left our wedding to go see?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I went!” She snapped, her own temper flaring. “He’s still my blood, Telemachus. He’s all I have left from my family, and I can’t just abandon him, no matter what he’s done.”

“All you have left?” Telemachus repeated bitterly, taking a step closer to her. “What about me, y/n? What about us? Am I not enough for you?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice softening slightly, but Telemachus wasn’t done.

“You’ve defended him every step of the way, even after everything he did to me, to my family,” he spat. “And now, on the day we’re supposed to start our lives together, you chose him over me.”

“I didn’t choose him over you!” She shot back. “I just wanted to make sure he was okay! He’s locked in a dungeon, Telemachus—”

“Where he belongs!” Telemachus roared, his voice echoing off the walls. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself. “Gods, y/n. I’ve put up with so much for you. I’ve bitten my tongue, tried to accept him, even when every fiber of my being hates him. And this… this feels like a slap in the face.”

Her anger faltered, guilt creeping into her expression. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said quietly. “I just… I can’t stop caring about him, no matter what he’s done. He’s my brother, Telemachus. I can’t turn that off.”

Telemachus let out a heavy sigh, turning away from her and leaning against the wall. “We get that he’s your fucking brother, just…just leave me alone for now y/n.”

——

The wedding feast was in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the grand hall as guests toasted to the newlyweds. Musicians played lively tunes, and servants rushed about with trays of wine and platters of food. But at the head of the table, Telemachus sat stiffly, his jaw tight as he pushed the food around on his plate. Beside him, y/n fidgeted, her gaze avoiding his. Their odd behavior didn’t go unnoticed. Acrisios, standing off to the side with a goblet of wine, watched them with raised eyebrows. He muttered to himself, “Newlyweds, huh? They look like they’re plotting each other’s murder.” After another moment of observation, he sighed, setting his drink down and making his way over to Telemachus.

“Alright, out with it,” Acrisios said, leaning casually against the table next to Telemachus. “You’ve been sitting here looking like someone spat in your wine. What’s wrong?”

Telemachus glanced at Acrisios, his scowl deepening. “Nothing,” he grumbled, clearly lying.

“Uh-huh,” Acrisios said, unconvinced. He nodded toward y/n, who was picking at her food with the same level of enthusiasm. “So nothing just happens to involve the fact that you and your lovely bride haven’t exchanged two words since the ceremony?”

Telemachus groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you not?” he muttered.

“Oh, I can not,” Acrisios said with a smirk. “But I’m going to anyway. What’s going on? Did she step on your foot during the first dance? Did you spill wine on her dress? What?”

Telemachus glared at him but then let out a heavy sigh. “She went to see Antinous during the wedding,” he muttered under his breath.

Acrisios froze for a second, then let out a loud, incredulous laugh. “You’re kidding me!” he said, clutching his stomach. “She left her own wedding to visit the guy who tried to kill you? That’s… wow, that’s rich.”

“Shut up,” Telemachus hissed, his face reddening as a few nearby guests glanced their way.

Acrisios ignored him, still chuckling. “Gods, Telemachus, no wonder you’re sulking. I’d be pissed too. But hey, at least she came back, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

“She shouldn’t have gone in the first place,” Telemachus snapped, his voice low but sharp. “It’s like she doesn’t even realize how much he hates me.”

“Or how much you hate him,” Acrisios pointed out with a grin. “Which, let’s be honest, is kind of impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you to hold a grudge this long.”

Telemachus shot him a dark look. “Not the time, Acrisios.”

“Alright, alright,” Acrisios said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Look, I get it. You’re mad. But maybe you should just talk to her instead of sitting here glaring at your plate. You know, like an adult?”

Telemachus grumbled something unintelligible but didn’t respond. Acrisios sighed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good luck, buddy. You’re gonna need it. And hey, if you need me, I’ll be over there trying not to embarrass myself in front of Lethea.”

——

The feast was winding down, the wine flowing freely as the guests celebrated well into the night. Telemachus had slipped away from the hall, his frustration boiling over. He stood outside on the terrace, gripping the stone railing tightly as he stared out at the moonlit ocean. His jaw was clenched, his breathing uneven. He’d thought this day would be perfect, a new start with Pandora, but her decision to sneak away during the wedding to see Antinous had left him furious.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you, my boy,” a gruff voice said behind him.

Telemachus turned to see his father, Odysseus, approaching with a goblet in hand. The older man studied his son for a moment before leaning against the railing beside him. “Let me guess,” Odysseus said, his tone dry. “It’s about your wife.”

Telemachus sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “She went to see him, Father. During our wedding. She left to visit Antinous, and I— I can’t understand why she’d do that.”

Odysseus’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around his goblet. “Antinous,” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “That snake. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”

“I know,” Telemachus muttered. “But she begged me to spare him, and… I couldn’t say no to her.”

Odysseus snorted, shaking his head. “That girl has a soft spot for the wrong people. First her brother, and now…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s a fool if she doesn’t see how dangerous he is.”

Telemachus looked down at his hands, his frustration giving way to doubt. “Do you think I made a mistake, Father? Marrying her?”

Odysseus was quiet for a moment, then placed a firm hand on Telemachus’s shoulder. “No,” he said gruffly. “You love her, don’t you?”

Telemachus nodded. “More than anything.”

“Then you didn’t make a mistake,” Odysseus said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to put up with her running off to see that bastard. She needs to understand where her loyalties lie now. She’s your wife. Her place is with you.” As if summoned by their conversation, y/n appeared at the edge of the terrace, her expression hesitant. She had shed her wedding veil, her hair cascading freely over her shoulders. She looked between father and son, her gaze lingering on Telemachus.

“I was looking for you,” she said softly, stepping closer.

Odysseus turned to face her fully, his eyes cold. “And why aren’t you with your husband?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “Or have you already had your fill of running off to see that snake of a brother of yours?”

She flinched at his words, her eyes widening. “I— I just wanted to—”

“You just wanted to what?” Odysseus cut in, his voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much shame you’ve brought to him today? To this family? My son deserves better than a wife who abandons him on their wedding day to visit the man who’s tried to kill him!”

“Father,” Telemachus said sharply, stepping between them. “That’s enough.”

Odysseus’s eyes flicked to his son, his expression softening slightly. “You’re too kind to her, Telemachus,” he muttered. “But fine. She’s your problem now.” He turned back to her, his gaze hard. “Remember this, you’re part of this family now. Act like it.”

With that, he brushed past her, leaving her alone with Telemachus. She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I couldn’t help myself. I had to see him.”

Telemachus sighed, his anger deflating as he pulled her into his arms. “Y/n, I get that you love him. He’s your brother, and you care about him. But you have to understand how it looks. How it feels. It’s our wedding day. Our day. And you left me.”

“I know,” she said, her voice cracking. “I know, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, Telemachus. I promise.”

He kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly. “You’d better not,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Because I won’t forgive you so easily next time.”

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@h0ne4bee @xo-cuteplosion-xo

#aphrodites gamble #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #antinous #telemachus #epic antinous #epic telemachus #antinous x reader #telemachus x reader

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dokidokidraft · 2 days ago

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Sub JJK Men Hcs

A/n: Im sry about kinktober guys, hcs are just easier to write rn. Plus, I’ve had this in my drafts for a while.(since August…)

⇨Masterlist⇦

Warnings: smut, nsfw, the title says it all. Dom!afab!reader, no pronouns used tho, sub jjk men (separate), overstimulation, edging, dracryphilia, brat taming, bondage/gagging, pegging, and gun play in Toji’s

Includes: Satoru Gojo, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro

More in part two, I promise. Request specific characters if you’d like!

꧁Satoru Gojo꧂

This man has 2 moods

#1 is whiny, obedient sub who’s kinda desperate. This only happens when he’s had a tough day at work and need to cool down a little.

#2 is his most common, the brat. Disobedient, cocky, and his ego goes through the roof. Tries to take charge most of the time.

He's super into overstimulation, whether he’s a crying, begging mess, or you need to brat tame him a bit.

The punishment that best works for him is the chastity cage. The pain turns pleasurable for him, but your always so cruel and hide the key. The longest he’s gone is 4 days, before he was begging (full on his knees, tears in his eyes, hands together as if he was praying) for you to take it off.

One of the loudest men on this list. I’m talking moans, whimpers, grunts, whines, the whole damn package.

Even when he’s being bratty, and TRYING to block out the noise, he’s crying out your name like it’s the only word he knows.

Hates edging, so that’s also an optimal punishment for him. Being on the brink of orgasm, teetering off the edge, before you pull him back down to earth is probably the worst feeling ever. (maybe second to the chastity)

Doesn’t like getting spanked or anything like that, but do use his blindfold to tie his wrists to the bed frame, etc.

Super big praise kink, but degradation also makes him moan, even when he tried to convince himself he doesn’t like it.

But oh god, when you ride him. That’s what really gets him going, seeing you bounce on top of him, tits swaying enticingly in front of his face. that's his absolute favourite thing.

Heavy aftercare is needed with this guy. I’m talking bubble bath, chocolates, and at least half an hour of snuggling afterwards.

“I’m NOT begging for you to blow me. I’m the strongest, I don’t beg”

“God, woman! J-just let me cum already! I’ll even let you peg me again just don’t edge me anymore….ple-e-ease…”

꧁Geto Suguru꧂

Not on the bratty side, but not completely submissive either

As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

One of his biggest kinks is hair pulling, especially if he’s eating you out. Making eye contact and feeling the tug on his scalp while you force your cunt against his face is just heaven for him.

Also loves being edged. Unlike Satoru, he loves to feel the buzz when he gets denied, loves the feeling of you in control.

He doesn’t usually need to be punished, but on the odd occasion when he does, the best option is simply putting him on a sex ban. The chastity doesn’t really sit right with him, but not getting any pussy is definitely torture.

Like it when you tie him up, but make it overdramatic. Give him full-on jewelled handcuffs, and a bright red, shiny ball gag, with a side of fairy lights hung around the bed frame.

Whenever you gag him, he makes sure to be extra loud to entertain you. His muffled moans will be replaying in your head for days.

Speaking of which, you definitely get some noise complaints from the neighbours.

Would much rather be giving you oral, but once your tongue touches the too of his cock I can promise you he whimpers from the tiniest touch 🥺

He will buy a new bed, and make it fucking massive. He wants to try every single position possible, that’s a given.

Has a habit of biting the pillow to muffle his moans <3

“Tying me up again, huh? Don’t you ever get bored of it? Oh, did that earn me the gag yet?”

“Sex ban? You’re joking. You’re fucking joking. Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

꧁Toji Fushiguro꧂

Submissive? Not at all…until you ride him

He would sell his soul to have you go cowgirl on him for the first time again

Toji likes the chastity cage bc it’s like a challenge for him, seeing how long he can last

If you try to peg him I’d suggest like…writing your loved ones a note :)

Overstimulation is his JAM (for both of you) but it takes fucking forever for him to get a bit overstimulated, this man has a shot ton of stamina.

When you convince him to sub, he can go all night. He’ll just be lazy and take it, whatever you give him, with lots of suggestive comments along the way

Giving him a blow job is the best way to relax him, especially if you have your nails done and use your hand at the base <3

He may or may not secretly love when you step on him, it gets him going like crazy

Hold him at gunpoint and he will be hard as a rock. He taught his girl well, and loves the thought of her overpowering him like that

Car sex. That’s it.

When you guys get really into it his hair will fall in front of his face, and if you gently brush it out of the way he falls in love all over again.

“Wanna suck on it, doll? I promise I won’t force it down your throat like last time, take your time.”

“I heard pineapple makes your cum taste sweet. Think we should try it? I’ll be the lovely taste tester if ya ride me afterwards.”

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louisjude · 17 hours ago

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bucktommy ficlet thingy: coffeeshop AU, age gap.

AU where 22yo Evan Buckley is still in Pennsylvania, (and out as bisexual already) who is barely making his way through community college but holds a steady job at a mom & pop coffee shop down on main street.

p.s. i wrote this all on my phone in one sitting so if there’s mistakes no there isn’t. enjoy.

Evan’s job is his solace, his happy place away from home ever since Maddie had stopped visiting and calling, at least not as often as she used to. It was good work, decent pay and hell he even kinda enjoyed it.

He’s working the front counter one day when the hottest, most gorgeous, the most handsome man he’s ever seen in his life steps up to order. For a moment, he’s lost his ability to speak which is how the two end up staring at each other awkwardly for a couple of seconds. He’s older. Probably a little too much older. His hair is wavy but styled neatly up top, silver peppering through his darker strands and the stubble on his face. He’s wearing a pair of glasses, perched on his perfectly sloped nose. He smiles a little and Evan is suddenly coming back to earth but not before he admires the way the lines around his eyes crinkle up like he’s sure the man has done a million times over through his life.

“Am I good to order?” He asked and Evan is laughing softly, though his face is bright red and burning as he grabs the little sharpie by the register.

“Yes, yeah. Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sure. You’ve probably been getting a lot more traffic since Picasso’s shut down.”

Evan sighed with relief, because it’s true they’ve been swamped with a lot more busy mornings since the other coffee shop on the street closed a few weeks ago. “You have no idea.”

“Sorry to be one of those people. Starbucks is just *no* and I think I’d rather drink muddy water than go to Dunkin.”

Evan’s laughing again and the guy is smiling with amusement. “It’s fine, the more the merrier. So…what can I get you?”

“Can I get a red eye with just a small splash of whole milk?”

Evan puts it into the register and writers it down onto the cup, repeating it to himself as he did. “And a name?”

“Tommy.”

Tommy. “Tommy, got it.” Writing his name felt weirdly exhilarating. He puts a smiley face next to it for good measure before wimping out knowing he definitely was going to think about it the rest of the night and feel embarrassed about it.

He lets Tommy swipe his card to put his order through and got to work on the drink.

Listen, Evan liked his job well enough and he never really slacked off but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t being insanely meticulous making the easiest order possible for Tommy.

He topped the drink off with a small splash of whole milk just like Tommy said and brought it to the little pick-up counter. “Here you are.” Evan said as he went to set the drink down but Tommy’s grabbing it from his hand. Their fingers brush and Evan isn’t thinking about it because how juvenile would that be?

“Thank you. How late are you guys open by the way?”

Evan blinked and looked away when the bell on the door rang as another customer stepped inside. “We’re open until nine, Sir.”

“Great, thanks. Have a good day, Evan.”

That wouldn’t be the last time Evan sees Tommy. In fact he was back the next day, though with a much less intense order before he’s holing up in the corner of the shop on his laptop. In fact, Tommy becomes a new regular at the shop, either ordering his regular black coffee or something so caffeinated it makes Evan feel like he’ll start to get palpitations just making it. It just depended on the day or rather his mood.

Evan figured he must be working, hunched over his laptop, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses every so often. He wondered what he did for a job. The two didn’t get to speak often but every time they did always felt charged. It was hard to tell though, if Tommy was actually flirting back with him or if he was just being nice. Usually he never had any issues picking up what someone was putting down but Tommy. Tommy made Evan feel like he was melting into a puddle just from his mere presence. It was unlike any crush he’d ever had.

One night as Evan’s closing, he makes his rounds around the shop clearing tables, wiping them down as his coworker cleaned up the front counter. He gets to Tommy’s table where the man looks up from his laptop and checks his watch, which for some reason made Evan’s go a little insane since.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”

“It’s fine! There’s still 30 minutes ‘til we’re technically closed, just getting a head start.” Evan bit at his lip, looking down to where Tommy was packing his things up.

“Still, I might be old but I try not to be like all the other assholes who think coming in five minutes before close is totally okay to do.” Tommy chuckled softly to himself.

“Pfft, you’re not that old.” Evan scoffed, leaning on the table with a little teasing grin as Tommy zipped up his bag. He’d found out only a few weeks ago that Tommy was 40 when he’d come in and mentioned it was his birthday.

“My back would argue that.”

That made Evan laugh and Tommy gave him that look he always did, the same one he’d given him the first time they’d met.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Uhm-!” He didn’t know why he sounded so distressed, mentally smacking himself in the face as Tommy looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“Sorry, I uh…Sorry. I don’t even know if you’re—and I’m now realizing how stupid this is.” What in the hell am I doing? He thought to himself. Was he seriously trying to ask him out? Just randomly like that with no thought behind it? “You know what, forget I even came over here.”

“Evan.”

He’d only just turned around when Tommy said it, stopping in his tracks. “Yeah?”

“Are you free this Saturday?”

That has Evan turning around so fast he’s sure to give himself whiplash. “Saturday?”

“Yeah, are you working?”

“No.” His heart is pounding in his chest.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?”

Evan felt like everything swirling around him and suddenly he very aware of his every movement, shifting his weight from one side to the other. “Like a date?”

“Like a date.” Tommy smiled and his eyes crinkled.

Evan was going to die. “Yes.” He was seriously going to die. Seriously.

“Great. Let me, hmm…” Tommy felt around and pulled a pen out from his bag and grabbed a napkin from the table. He jotted down what Evan could only assume was his number and handed it over to him. “Text me and we can work the details.”

“Okay.”

Evan started to laugh and Tommy did it again. The look. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for weeks but had no clue—“

“Evan, you’re adorable.”

His face was beet red again.

“Text me, alright?”

“I will, get home safe.”

“You too.”

Evan watched Tommy leave that night and texted him the moment he was home.

One date turned into two dates. Two turned into four and four turned into eight. It’s a month into dating that Evan asked if Tommy was his boyfriend to which Tommy laughed and asked him if he wanted him to be. Of course he said yes. It’s two months into dating that Evan tells his parents he’s seeing someone, a guy, and it’s another month before they’re asking when they’ll get to meet him.

”He’s a little older…”, “Well, does he make you happy?”, “Yes.”, “Then I don’t see how a few years is anything to raise concern for.”

What Evan didn’t mention was a few years was actually eighteen. Maybe they didn’t need to know. It was probably better they didn’t actually.

It’s another month after that, four months into dating Tommy that Evan is pacing around the front door waiting for Tommy to knock on the door. It felt a little ridiculous, like he was 14 again and introducing his first girlfriend to his parents. Except this is a lot more real, a lot more serious.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Evan is quick to open the door, seeing Tommy standing there in his signature henley top, glasses perched right on his nose as always and a warm smile. The two share a quick kiss before he’s pulling Tommy inside, nervous as hell but…his parents were trying, so Evan was trying.

He walks them into the dining area where his mom is still setting the table and his dad is in the kitchen. “Uhm, mom, dad. This is Tommy.”

“Oh, it is so nice to finally meet you, we—“ Margaret had started before Phillip walked into the room, a bit stunned.

“Mr. Kinard?”

“Mr. Buckley.”

The room suddenly felt tense. Weird. His mother looking back and forth between the two before her hand is coming up to cover her mouth as she gasped.

Then, his dad turned to him, with a look he couldn’t quite discern.

“Evan. Is there a reason you’ve brought home my coworker as your boyfriend?”

end.

notes since a lot of details are missing: Tommy and Phillip are both teachers at the same school. Buck being Buck never thought to put two and two together. I use “Evan” because I feel like it and it’s an AU where none of the 118 is even present so 💃 I’d love to read this as an actual well thought out fanfic but I’m simply unable to force myself to write one, the idea is free reign thought for anyone who’d like to.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic

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mayonayys · 2 days ago

Text

Cold Reunion

Tags: Caleb/FMC, Nondescript MC, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence Rating: T+ Words: 1,763 Summary: He was dead. So who was he to stand before her now and question her? He had left her all alone and the grief had nearly killed her. But here he was. And she was angry.

A reimagining of Empathetic Interrogation.

AO3 Link

Her stomach turned as she tried to process what was happening. The man before her was him, there was no question about that now. But his voice was too harsh, his actions were cruel.

He was different, but here he was, right in front of her.

He leaned in close, running the lie detector down her throat and pressing it into her chest.

Her heart felt heavy, bottom lip quivering as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

She shifted, pulling at the arm restraints, but stilled when he inched even closer. She could feel his breath fan across her face. Her stomach turned, her senses on high alert.

"I'll ask again." He tilted his head as he pressed the lie detector in harder, causing her to flinch away. "Did you come to Skyhaven for the Aether Core?"

Her mouth twisted into a frown as he glared down at her, the caring and kind man she once knew was nowhere to be found. She started to retort, ask him a question in turn, say anything to help her figure out what was going on.

"Answer me," he sneered out, his eyes holding a venom she never thought was possible in that lilac gaze.

This couldn't have been her Caleb—not anymore.

"Remember," he said slow and low, "the camera is watching. You must tell the truth."

It was almost like he was warning her—he was never that good of an actor though, was he? She didn't feel any warmth from him, she was just prey caught oh so perfectly in his clutches. She winced as the lie detector pressed into her chest and the arm restraints bit into her wrists.

She gritted her teeth and let out a shaky breath.

She would just have to be as good of an actor as he was, then.

"I'm telling the truth." She said slowly, calmly. "I'm not related to anything involving an Aether Core."

Something flickered across his features, but her blood was boiling too much for her to be able to read his expression properly.

"This is your last chance." He adjusted his grip on the lie detector, letting out a deep breath that brushed over her face and had her pulling at her restraints again, wanting nothing more than to push him off of her and rid herself of this false image of him.

"I don't know anything." She reiterated through gritted teeth. She could feel her pulse raising as the device began to beep, soon to reveal her fate.

But his grip shifted on it again, a subtle click meeting her ears as the buzzing stopped and the screen went blank.

He pulled back, just a little, his expression unreadable.

She couldn't help the shaky breath that left her and she swallowed to ease the drying ache in her throat.

He looked her up and down one more time before standing to his full height, towering over her.

"You passed." He finally said and just as she blinked in confusion he seemed to slowly morph before her.

He was still the Farspace Fleet's Colonel, but there was a familiar softness around his eyes now.

She flinched as the lights came on and she instinctively raised her arms, expecting the resistance of the arm restraints, but they clicked open just in time to allow her to shield her eyes from the too bright lights.

She blinked, letting out a small noise of confusion as she moved her arms, looking at him through the gap.

He was smirking.

She felt a new wave of emotion course through her and her jaw tensed as she balled her hands into tight fists.

"You…" Her voice came out strained, anger, confusion, and hurt bubbling up to the surface.

He didn't seem put off by her tone, instead he leaned down, and in a too familiar gesture, his hand went to rest on her head, his thumb brushing at her bangs.

"Surprised? Sure it's been a while, but you already forgot about me?" He chuckled.

She swatted his hand away from her.

"You, Caleb, you're dead!" She lost her cool, voice louder than she would have liked, but her rage bubbled up too quickly for her to control.

The look on his face shifted, the amusement in his smirk deepening.

"If that were true, how could I be standing right here?" He leaned forward again, hands going to take the collar from around her neck.

She pushed his hands away from her again, standing quickly.

Her face heated with rage and his smirk faltered for a nearly imperceptible moment, the hard gaze he wore before threatening to slip back onto his face.

He reached for the collar again and caught her arm when she went to push him away. His gloved hand was cold on her sore wrist, his long fingers applying just enough pressure to make her flinch and try to jerk away.

"Just let me get this, okay?" His tone was soft, he was trying to soothe her now.

After all that, it didn't work. He was no longer her childhood protector, he was a man who evaded death and left her alone to grieve him for far too long. He was cold—cruel even, if she were to go by the force he'd already used against her.

The collar snapped off and he tossed it on the table behind him.

His hand was still around her wrist, but his grip loosened. When she didn't pull away his hand left her wrist, inching down to clasp her hand in his.

"Did I scare you?" He asked and it would have been reassuring if she wasn't still trapped in an interrogation room.

"You…" She shook her head, feeling her face heat as all her feelings came to a head. "You left me!" She blurted out and she could feel tears of anger and grief pricking at her eyes.

He didn't say anything as she glared up at him, but he shifted their clasped hands, his fingers threading through hers.

He tugged her gently forward and she stumbled, reaching out her other hand to brace against his chest. She scoffed as she looked up at him, shaking her head. She didn't pull her hand from his grasp, instead she squeezed her fingers, hoping that her small grip in his large hand could at least cause him a moment of discomfort, but he didn't even flinch.

He pursed his lips, eyes searching her face as she glared up at him with as much venom as she could muster.

"I didn't leave you," he finally said, voice soft. He looked truthful, but how could she believe him after the display he'd put on?

"You did." She hissed out, taking a step back.

He tugged at her arm again, not letting her get far.

She snarled at the action, rage still at the forefront. She pulled at his grasp and when he was unmoving, she raised her other hand, quickly striking out.

The sound of her hand across his face rang out in the silent interrogation room, but he didn't make a noise as his head turned to the side. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes seemed to darken, twinkling with a barely contained rage.

Her fingers stung, even with her glove to buffer the impact of her hand on his cheek. She took a step back, only stopped from going farther by his grip on her hand.

He wasn't looking at her yet and she watched him with a quiet fear rising, taking place of the anger she'd felt before.

His lips parted, tongue just barely flicking out to wet them, but she caught the sight hint of a red liquid tinting his tongue and staining the few teeth she got a peek at.

He finally turned back to her, gaze hard, and her breath left her.

He tugged her forward again and she struggled against his grip, letting out small pleas for him to let her go to no avail.

Her other hand landed on his chest again, fingers gripping at and wrinkling his uniform coat.

She did her best to glare up at him, despite the way she sucked in shaky breaths.

His face was stony and she flinched back when he leaned forward. She could feel his heart beat under her palm, calm and steady, while her own was erratic, pounding loudly in her ears.

His breath fanned out across her face again and she turned away from him, wincing at the faint smell of iron on his breath.

His free hand reached up, gloved fingers ghosting over her jaw before he gripped her chin, turning her head and making him face her. She cringed away from his hard gaze, but as he leaned in closer, his expression seemed to soften.

She couldn't help the small whimper that left her mouth as she felt his lips nearly brush across her cheek.

"I didn't leave you," he finally said, voice soft and reassuring. His thumb gently brushed her jaw, the hand gripping hers loosening and going to rest on the small of her back.

She almost broke, but took in a shaky breath, turning her face ever so slightly, meeting his softened eyes.

"I won't ever leave you, I promise." He said, pressing his forehead to hers.

She blinked and her unshed tears finally fell, stinging her hot face. Her lips trembled as she held her breath, closing her eyes as she leaned into him, his now tender touch overwhelming her.

He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed flush to one another and her sob finally broke. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her tear streaked face into his chest.

"I thought you were dead, Caleb." She managed to get out, voice muffled by her tears and the fabric of his jacket.

He held her tight to him and she could feel him press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. He moved, hand stroking her hair, and he pressed his lips to her temple, the sound of his soft breathing soothing to her senses.

"No matter what," his voice was gentle in her ear and his fingers caressed up her spine. She felt herself clinging to him further, sucking in a breath, breathing him in. "I'll always be by your side." He pressed another soft kiss to her temple, holding her tight until her sobs died down.

She was angry, her heart heavy with grief, but he was her Caleb and he was here, in her arms, once again.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #caleb x mc #lnds #caleb x reader #third person #angst #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #lads fanfic #love and deepspace fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day ago

Text

The Gray Woman 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You hand over the statement and send off the client with ‘have good day’. The recitation is lifeless, meaningless as it leaves your lips on habit alone. It’s all by rote. Greet them, figure out what they want, and get them out.

Your next customer steps up as you take a chug of cold coffee. A glimmer of recognition flickers in your head and you squint at his reddened eyes. Oh, you know this man. Well, you’re aware of his existence.

“Hello, sir, how can I help--”

“Shut up,” he scowls. “You serious with the hello bullshit? Look at my eyes?”

You blink and put your cup down, “did you try milk?”

“Milk?! Milk? You fucking burnt my retinas out.”

“Are you having issues with your sight--”

“That’s not the fucking point. You—You remember me now, don’t you?”

“You grabbed me. I reacted,” you shrug. “If you’re only here to yell at me, I’ll need to call security--”

“Fuck security,” he steps up and his nose almost touches the glass. He snarls, “do you understand who I am? How many ways I can fuck you? Figuratively and literally?”

You stare back at him dully. You deal with people yelling about their money every day. You’re desensitized to their threats. To their chagrin. Do they really think you care? That you have any sort of emotion tied to this job? It pays the bills.

“Would you like to make a transaction today or--” You move your hand under the desk.

“Don’t you fucking hit that button, sweet cheeks. I’m not going to do anything. Not here. You think I’m fucking stupid?” He growls as he jabs the glass between you. “No, I want you to see what the fuck you did and why I’m going to do worse to you.” He makes a fist and hits the barrier. “And you’re going to fucking remember me.”

You keep your hand on the edge of the counter. You sit up and look around him, “I have other customers to help. Please step aside.”

He scoffs and thumps on the glass again. “You’re a real fucking piece of work. You let this bullshit job go to your head? Why? Cause you can hit a few keys on a computer? Money’s still in my accounts, honey. You’re nothing. I could buy you a hundred times over and still have as much left.”

You exhale and look at him as you wave up the next person in line, “unfortunately, it doesn’t appear that money can buy class.”

He stomps as the waiting client hesitate, “you can come up. We’re done.” You beckon them again with your fingers then reach for your cup again.

He looms as the woman comes up to your woman. He’s close enough that you feel your discomfort. You give him a look as take her card.

“Sir, you need to go.” You warn him.

He puffs and shakes his head. He tuts and paces back then toward you again. He stops as if he only then notices the woman watching him in horror. He throws up his hands then marches away.

“Sorry, about that,” you say to the woman. You take her card and swipe it.

“No, I’m sorry. Must be horrible to deal with that at work,” she replies as she touches her cheek and glances over her shoulder.

“Money is very personal,” you utter. “How can I help you today?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she assures. “I’m just adding a new payee to my account. I switched phone providers but their online portal isn’t working for me...”

You nod and help her through the process. As promised, she’s quick. The rest of your day is not. You can’t help but check the clock repeatedly. It’s almost the weekend. So close yet so far away.

As you get down from your chair at the end of your shift and grab your bag, Veronique approaches. You face her as you hitch up your purse. It’s unusual for her to come to you. Ever. She hides at her desk, more interested in her phone than her management role.

“Before you go, I’d like a word.”

You frown. This can’t be good. You rely on predictability. You could drown in it but it’s easier than change. Easier than the unexpected.

“Sure,” you agree and follow her as she spins on her heel.

You trail her strut into a back office. One of the executives is there. Gerald, you think? He doesn’t bother with you either.

“Please, shut the door,” he greets you. You do as he says and Veronique perches herself behind his shoulder like a parrot. “Have a seat.”

Wary, you cross the office and sit in the stiff seat. It squeaks as you stay on the edge. You cradle your bag in your lap. Veronique grins then wipes it away as she clears her throat.

“You’ve worked here for more than ten years.” Gerald states. You confirm. “A long time. Must get dull.”

“It’s work, sir,” you say.

“You haven’t moved up much. Typically yearly raise but nothing extravagant,” he looks at his lit monitor. “You work for base pay. Not very much, yet you handle a lot of money, don’t you?”

Your heart picks up. You can’t remember the last time you felt anything like this. That you were uncertain. Everything was always the same. Go to work, go home, sleep, wash, rinse, repeat.

“Sir, I do my job and I do it by the book.”

“Do you?” He tuts as he leans back and clicks around. “Because we’ve had some discrepancies brought to our attention. On a particular account. A client you’ve dealt with several times, and according to Veronique, you’ve had as many issues with.”

You shake your head in confusion.

“No, I don’t... no.”

“He was here today. Mr. Hansen? We were just reviewing some footage from his last visits and his statements. There’s some really strange back and forths here.”

You sit up even higher, “sir, no. It can’t-- I did exactly as he requested. All I did was ask for his ID.”

“Veronique,” he looks up as his tone turns to disinterest.

“We have the evidence. We’re submitting a report for investigation. You will be suspended. Beginning immediately.”

Her lips curve again. Your chest turns to a pit and you puff out in disbelief. This can’t be. How could they have proof when you did nothing?

“Security is waiting outside to escort you from the premises,” she continues with a catlike smirk.

You look between her and Gerald. He’s already distracted by his phone. “How about the steak house, V?” He swivels to her. You’re dismissed by the back of his balding head.

You get up and clutch your bag to your stomach. You turn and march to the door. As you exit, two uniformed men await you. They walk on either side of you, past other tellers and several managers. You’re mortified.

How could this happen to you? You have a feeling Veronique is behind it but why? She ignores you, like everyone else. What could she possibly get out of this?

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #the gray man #the gray woman

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