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#coming in with a quick 'hello' and your suggestion
arcticwolfpaws · 14 hours
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Chapter 9: Father's love
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here's your link lovelys!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/56481082/chapters/143531686
P.O.V: Bruce Wayne.
I had just finished a meeting when I look at my phone, I was expecting a call from Alfred telling me that he was home with the boys, instead what I saw was a missed call from Jason, as soon as I got another call from Jason.
“Jason?” I asked as I picked up the call, he sounded out of breath as he spoke and I could hear the concern in his voice.
“I can’t find Faraj. I went to talk to his little Friend from the Gala but they haven’t seen him since lunch.” He stated, I felt my heart sink. Had I done something wrong? Had he run away? I worried, “Shit.” It was soft but I knew it was Jason, I stepped into my office.
“Jason? What’s going on?” I asked feeling the panic starting to rise, despite that I took a deep breathe, I couldn’t panic no matter how much I wanted to. I had to keep my head on straight he was a kid and if he was trained like I suspected then he wasn’t going to be hurt without a fight.
“I just found Faraj’s backpack… Kinda looks like someone kicked it.” He had mumbled the last part and I heard the fluttering of paper and the sound of the plastic glasses case on the concrete.
“Is there any sign he was hurt?” I asked as I paced around my office, the pause that followed made my heart sink but Jason spoke again.
“No, there’s no blood nothing that suggest… odd.” He trailed off, I sighed heavily before shaking my head, I knew that didn’t mean a lot drugs wouldn’t have left a trace of a struggle. “Is Croc out of Arkham?” I was jerked back to the call by Jason’s question.
“Yes I believe he is, we’ll see if he’s turned over a new leaf.” with my statement Jason hummed, “I’ll be down to the school in fifteen.” I told him hanging up before calling Alfred, he was quick to pick up but sounded a bit winded.
“Hello sir, I was just about to pick up the boys.” I nodded at his statement giving the phone a soft smile.
“Thank you Alfred, however something came up and I’ll be handling it today.” There was a pause after I spoke before Alfred cleared his throat.
“Did something with Faraj?” He asked sounding suddenly worried and I sighed, of course he’d figure it out after all Alfred always could read me like an open book.
“Yes.” as short as my answer was Alfred knew me well, as I stepped into my car and turned it on my phone was switched to the radio.
“I suspect that this isn’t a simple fight.” He stated I sighed before shaking my head before remembering I couldn’t be seen.
“I wish it was that simple,” I stated, and with that I hung up as I pulled up a teacher stood looking nervous, Jason was be leaning on a wall his arms crossed I was hopping that he had some more information on what happened.
“Mr, Wayne.” She stated I nodded not thinking there was much going on with it however she started to speak again. “You’re youngest… We had a problem some… boys seemed to have carried him off..” She sounded worried but I perked up someone knew what happened to my son. How ever knowing that other kids were involved worried me,
“Boys?” I asked and she seemed ti wince before clearing her throat,
“Yes Sir, they have been pulled aside and the police have been called, The camera's show the four boys carrying your son off school grounds and coming back without him.” I felt my anger rise, Had they handed him to someone? Had my imposer shown up and taken him? I took a deep breathe, I had to stay calm even if calm was the last thing I felt. I frowned at the women,
“I was made aware that I was missing a child,” I stated nodding to Jason, she looked nervous and turned starting to walk inside.
“Please follow me.” I followed her waving Jason to follow as well, as we passed the principles office I saw the 4 boys sitting there heads down, I was quick to note that one of them had a cast on his wrist. This had been planned this was revenge wasn’t it. I frowned at the thought but shook it away quickly as I stepped into the office, I spoke before the principle could.
“And what are you going to do to prevent this in the future?” my tone was sharp, I didn’t take the safety of my charges lightly and the school knew this as I had been through something like this with Jason except that Jay could and had fought back and made enough noise to get someones attention.
“I well more camera’s for one.” They stated quickly I raised a brow, “And of course we’ll have more then one teacher at the gates to ensure this doesn't happened again.” I nodded that was better, beyond that I’d have to talk to Faraj.
“That’s a start, but I’ll be speaking to the cops about this if I find my son has been injured.” I informed him and he nodded swallowing hard he spoke.
“Of course and they have been called, the commissioner said he was going to come out himself as this involved one of your boys.” I nodded at that before walking outside and waiting on them. I was pacing Jason was leaned against the wall, I should be out there looking for him, I needed to find him… my son… Jim’s personal car pulled up and I looked up as another cop car stopped as well 3 more drove past and seemed to be spreading out. I stopped as Jim stepped out and walked up to us.
“Mr, Wayne we’ll find you’re son, I’m going to go inside and talk to the boys and see what they know.” I nodded he started to walk past and I had to speak up letting him know what I had noticed.
“Faraj had gotten into a bit of a fight previously and broke a boys wrist I’m worried this is some kind of revenge.” I stated, And I heard Jim sigh heavily,
“I’ll look into it.” He stated before walking out of sight the other officer trailing him. I had things to do and I needed to get Jason home, I sighed I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to find him and we still had a few hours before dark and I wanted to look for him myself.
“We can go.” Jason stated and I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose, “I can start looking, I might be able to find him faster then-” I raised my hand and he stopped talking.
“We’ll see, right now I need to get you home and you need to get you homework done.” I stated firmly as I lead him to the car opening the passenger door, I sighed as I closed it once he was in, I wasn’t leaving him, I’d come back do my own look, I told myself as I got in the car.
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When we were half way back I got the first call from Jim, Jason was quick to pick it up for me while I kept my eyes on the road.
“Jim, Have you found him.” There was a heavy sigh and a long pause, my stomach dropped as my mind cycled to the worst out comes, he was murdered or those boys had essentially sold him to someone like the joker for some sick experiment.
“Those boys managed to pry open a man hole cover…. They said they wanted to scare him that they knew croc was in Arkham.” I was quiet, that was a hell of a lot better then what I was thinking, Waylon had never hurt a child before and I didn’t think he’d start with Faraj. Jason seemed to pick up on the same thing and relaxed himself.
“They did what?” I was still angry depending on how he was thrown in he could have been hurt badly, However I knew if he was all I had to do was ask Waylon.
“I have my man looking but all we found under the man hole was some blood.” My heart sank again, I hoped he wasn’t badly hurt but the fact that he wasn’t there told me that he’d either wandered off likely in a daze and blindly or that Waylon had found and taken him.
“I want charges pressed.” I stated not leaving room for argument, I doubted I would get any however, I knew fully well if it had been Barbra he would have done the same thing.
“Already done,” He stated and shook his head. “At the very least I hope to scare those boys straight.” I caught the implied but if he’s badly hurt it could be much worse for them. Any other day even with Jason I hadn’t pushed for action with Jason or Dick as they had Handled it themselves. Four boys… Faraj was fairly small I couldn’t Imagine how intimidating that might have been for him.
“Good,” I was going to add more but there was some shouting and Jim sighed before speaking.
“I have to go.” He hung up quickly, I sighed and Jason spoke in an almost small voice,
“I gave him ear plugs… maybe if I hadn’t he’d have heard them sneak up on him.” I frowned and shook my head before speaking,
“I don’t think that would have changed much Jason, there were four of them and even if one of them wasn’t doing anything he’s still smaller then all of them. Even if he has training I wouldn’t expect him to be able to take more then two of them out before the other two caught him.” I stated but I could tell it was little comfort to him, I sighed Alfred was waiting and had opened the door as we walked up to it he frowned after he didn’t see Faraj.
“Where is the young master?” I took a deep breathe,
“Jason home work.” I told him and watched him walk off, “A group of boys pulled open a man hole cover and threw him in.” I wasn’t sure how Alfred would react but he very quickly didn't look pleased.
“Those roughens,” He scoffed, “Should I start dinner? Or will you and master Jason be looking for Master Faraj?” His question brought up a good point I didn’t know how long it would take to find the albino, if he was scared he might not listen to anyone… not even batman… I paused I had to think about that for a long moment. How did I want to handle this?
“I… I don’t know, I might have to call, Clark or Diana. They won’t be as intimidating to him.” If I ended up resorting to that then I’d have to find some way to explain to Faraj and the rest of Gotham why they were here. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Alfred,
“We will find him, He doesn’t know the city well if he has made it out of the sewer he is likely looking for something familiar and safe if he sees a cop he is likely to try and speak to them.” He pointed out, and hearing someone else say that soothed my nerves a little.
“Jim has half the force out looking by now, an eleven year old who doesn’t know the streets well is bound to find trouble…. That in mind please do start dinner, I’d like him to come home to a warm meal and a safe bed.” I stated and Alfred nodded walking past me to the kitchen, Once I was alone again the worry started to creep up again, I knew he wasn’t sold but if he walked into the jokers gang, I sighed heavily I didn’t really want to do it but calling Harley might be the best thing that I could do, That was If she was staying true to her word and staying away from the joker. I started to pace again, the last thing I wanted was to put him at risk. I was holding my phone when it started ringing Lucius Fox the caller I.D read, I sighed shaking my head as I picked it up.
“What’s up?” I asked and there was a long pause, before Lucius spoke.
“Well I was going to say I finished that sonar gear you wanted however you sound… Stressed?” I sighed, it was good to know that the sonar was working but that wasn’t my concern right now,
“That boy that I was telling you about… He ran into some trouble.” I started and took a deep breathe, “And I’m starting to doubt that he has extensive training like I thought before.” There was a pause and something shuffling in the back ground.
“But… the Al ghouls wouldn’t have left there child to be raised by someone else would they?” He asked and I paused thinking, There was no way in hell that Talia would let someone raise her child, I knew her well enough to know that she’d see him as the next head of the family however… Ra’s wouldn’t, He’d see the Albinism as a flaw a genetic impurity.
“I don’t think it was a choice Talia made.” at that statement more things felt like they clicked into places, Faraj had called his care giver Willson, the only Willson I knew of that might end up with a child getting mauled…
“I think I’ll be visiting Slade tonight.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of that sooner, If Slade raised him it made sense he would have some level of training but not enough to handle four opponents at once.
“Slade?” Lucius asked and I hummed softly,
“He might be able to tell me more about my son, things he wont tell me.” I had paused to let Fox give his two sense but I started getting another call, “I have to go Jim’s calling me.” I told him hanging up before he could reply. “Bruce here.” I stated as I picked up Jim’s call,
“Mr Wayne, We found you’re son he’s being brought to my office as we speak.” I breathed a sigh of relief, he was safe. I needed to get him still but he’d be safe with Jim.
“I’ll be there right away.” I stated hanging up as I grabbed my keys I paused and circled back to tell Alfred what was happening, he was chopping vegetables when I walked in,
“Alfred they found him, I-” He cut me off as he started making a shoe motion,
“Go retrieve him sir,” He insisted, before getting back to the cooking I sighed and headed out before heading to the car.
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As I pulled up to the station my head lights shined on Jim who was out smoking, I shut the engine off and stepped out.
“Is he alright?” I felt silly for asking seeing as If he wasn’t I would have been told to meet him at the hospital, Even still Jim was very calm about it all.
“Yes, He’s a sleep in my office right now, had one of the medic look at him, he’s got a decent goose egg but he’s not concussed.” He stated and I sighed nodding, “He was also willing to confirm the boys who threw him into the sewer.” He added, I was glad to know he wasn’t going to lie about that. Gordon started to walk and I followed him,
“That’s good,” I mumbled, if he had been trained by Slade I wondered if he was even scared while he was down there.
“You might want to see about replacing his glasses as the ones he has right now are pretty badly cracked and one of the arms broke.” I nodded it was better to have broken glasses. As we got to Gordon’s office I spotted the thin blanket laid over the boy, I knelt next to him and tried to pick him up, he slowly woke up squinting at me as he tried to register what was going on.
“Hmmm, Dad?” He mumbled clearly not fully awake but my heart warmed hearing him call me that.
“Shhh, go back to sleep Faraj I’ll carry you.” I told him softly as I picked up, he whined softly not fully awake, “I best get him home.” I told Gordon softly, as I made sure Faraj’s head was on my shoulder, Gordon nodded and held the door for me as I carried him out, as we got under the bright light he tried to hid his face in my shoulder, I tried my best to move quickly as I tried to let him sleep. I set him in the car and Gordon closed the car door and spoke,
“Those boys are in quite a bit of trouble. However… I would like to know how he managed to walk all the way here and remain unnoticed but I couldn’t get him to tell me.” I nodded before taking a breathe,
“I’ll see about asking him but a doubt I’ll get anything beyond dumb luck.” I didn’t actaully know if he’d tell me about Waylon if he met him. However that would wait until he was settled back in at home.
“Of course. I’ll let you be on your way.” I nodded at Gordon’s words as I got in, Faraj didn’t move at first and when he did I saw those pale blue eyes peaking out of the blanket at me, I guess that despite my efforts the lights had fully woken him up,
“Are you alright?” I asked as I turned the engine on, he paused for a long moment and let out a heavy breathe.
“Mostly, I cut my head and broke my glasses.” I had been warned about the glasses and as I came to a stop I reached out and put my hand under his chin pulling it up to stop him from trying to look at the ground,
“This wasn’t your fault, I wouldn’t ever have excepted you to fight 4 boy on your own even if you can fight and those boys were bigger then you, one of them looked like he was a class above you.” I told him as the light changed I brought my hand back to the wheel, he didn’t drop his head I watched from the corner of my eye as he watched me,
“I did make a friend today.” I smiled even as he spoke softly, It was good to hear he could make friends that he had some social skills,
“Glad to hear it who are they? Is it possibly that young man you were talking to at the Gala?” I asked, I had to pull more of my attention to the road,
“Well, that’s one of them. But the other’s named Janie… she didn’t have lunch today.” he stated I frowned hearing that I’d talk to Alfred I didn’t think a child should go hungry.
“Well, I’ll have Alfred make you a spare lunch.” I told him the conversation seeming to come to it’s natural conclusion, and the car filling with soft road noise before we got caught in traffic, Batman was going to be out late tonight, I sighed and glanced over at him again Wrapped up in the thin blanket, I never thought I would have a child it was one thing when Dick and Jason needed me, I was there ward not there father I can’t replace there fathers. But I was his father he had no one else to learn from and right now? He looked so small to me, So innocent it made me wonder even more how Jason’s father could have been so cruel. The ride was mostly quiet and due to traffic it took us another hour to get home.
The manor only had a few lights on but I was still well aware then Alfred had dinner waiting, as we walked in Jason was by the stairs and he perked up seeing us.
“Faraj!” He chirped I stepped aside and let Jason get a good look, but I had noticed when Jason had yelled that Faraj had flinched, had that been due to the sound? Was that something I needed to worry about? I took a breathe and decided that I would ask Jason if he noticed that as well.
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Bat files
James (Jim) Gordon
Date of birth: November 19th
Job: Police commissioner
Jim is a good man and a better cop having worked hard to handle the corruption within the G.C.P.D, I trust the man with my life and If I thought it was a good idea h would know how was under the cowl but now more then ever I feel it’s better the less people know the better however his daughter is well aware, I might have to ask for her to help me keep an eye on Faraj.
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loosesodamarble · 1 year
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Hi! Do you mind tagging your reader fics 'reader insert' for filtering purposes? Having a general tag helps people filter out reader content if they're uncomfortable with it without blocking every individual character/reader tag
Well since you asked so politely, I don't see why not.
I suppose I never got into the habit of adding a general "x reader" or "reader insert" tag to my reader insert fics because I've done them so infrequently. Mostly for events I did here on the blog. I suppose this will help me as well since I do like thoroughly tagging the things I post and reblog. (Which makes one wonder how I never thought to include a more general tag sooner... When my mind blanks, it blanks badly./lh)
Thanks for so kindly pointing that out, Anon. 👍 Have a good day!
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lovegasmic · 6 months
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i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA
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⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.
 ⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷
I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^
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there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.
he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’
Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.
it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.
walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.
“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.
“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.
we should hang out soon ;)
and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.
“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.
“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.
“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.
it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.
Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.
“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.
“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”
you swallow, “what are you doing here?”
“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”
“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”
he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.
“tell me what’s wrong”
“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”
“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”
you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.
“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.
“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.
there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”
“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.
“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”
“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.
he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”
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reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤
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chuluoyi · 29 days
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𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy & sex, mentions of complications related to pregnancy, brief description of childbirth (c-section), hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here)
note: part 2 to nocturne of twilight. my god, i honestly didn't expect it'd turn out into another 8k fic but here we go :')
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Lately, Zayne has come to realize just how much joy you bring to home when you’re happy.
Your smile and giggles simply light up the place.
And moreover, you get happy at the simplest of things—head pats, his snowmen... Even when he responds with jabs just to get a rise out of you, there's always a part of his heart that softens.
Today began just like one of those joyful days. He dropped you off at the Hunter Association base before heading to the hospital, and later, he planned to pick you up and perhaps stop for macarons on the way home—
Or so he thought, until...
"Hello, Dr. Zayne! Sorry for startling you. Can you come to my office? Your wife just collapsed and she is brought here."
. . .
Zayne raced to Dr. Munson's office on the third floor, panic gradually overtook his every step. His mind whirled with all the possible reasons you might end up at—
Ob-gyn office. Wait, what?
The realization struck him just as he flung open the door to his colleague’s office.
"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" Dr. Munson greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin.
Zayne gave a quick nod but bypassed him to head straight to the bed where you were.
You looked pale and sluggish, your eyes squeezed shut. He immediately took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him there.
"Zayne..." you murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and offering a faint smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched your cool cheek.
"A bit dizzy..."
Seeing you so meek made something inside him lurch. Just this morning, you had been full of life, pouting and playfully teasing him, and now you looked so exhausted.
"Well, maybe you already know this, Dr. Zayne, but still, congratulations!" Dr. Munson clapped his hands merrily. "Your wife is pregnant!"
Pregnant. Zayne stood frozen for a moment. In truth, while the very thought flitted in his mind from the moment he walked in, it didn't make it less surprising all the same. "I see..."
Then he turned to look at you, and to his surprise, you looked away, a shy smile played at your lips, as if you were trying to make yourself as small as possible.
A child. You were with child. His child.
"How far along?"
"Almost ten weeks, give or take. Well, aren't you the one who knows the most?"
"Is she alright? Anything I need to watch out for?"
"Ooh! How sweet!" Dr. Munson laughed crisply. "The cool-headed Dr. Zayne is worrying about his wife! The nurses are going to have a field day when they know this~"
Zayne shot him a look, but didn’t miss a beat as he retorted, "Of course I am."
You looked up at him silently, your heart fluttering at his earnest response. Zayne had always been resilient, but now he seemed more dashing than usual as he fired questions after questions at Dr. Munson about you and the baby.
Baby... both of you were going to become parents. It still felt surreal, but with Zayne’s warm grip on your hand, it began to feel real. You were almost giddy.
But then, it struck you— the baby was around ten weeks.
Then it meant the day of the conception was that night.
. . .
“Here, hold onto me.”
Zayne opened the door to his car and supported you as you carefully stepped out. You were still unsteady on your feet, so he returned you back home to rest rather than heading back to the Hunter Association’s base.
“Have you been feeling unwell these past few days?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you made your way inside. “Usually, the symptoms have been noticeable for a while.”
“Hmmm,” you pursed your lips, feigning coyness. “I... don’t think so?”
Zayne quirked an eyebrow, sending you a withering stare as he realized your ruse. “So you have.”
“Hehe...” you flashed him a sheepish grin, causing him to shake his head in exasperation and pinch your cheek. “Ow!” you squeaked, quickly bringing your hand to your face.
Zayne stifled a smile, then gently guided you to the sofa. He crouched down in front of you, meeting your gaze as he took both of your hands in his.
"You need to tell me these things from now on, alright?" he said, and his steadfast gaze made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"We..." you started, steeling yourself, "are going to have a baby," you gulped, feeling heat spreading to your cheeks.
He was unfazed. "Mm, we are."
You shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze. "Are you... happy?"
Your voice wavered at the end, and your hand felt clammy. Suddenly, your stomach too twisted with nausea. Who would've thought that you would conceive a baby from a night that he called a mistake?
However, Zayne tilted his head, seemingly taken aback. "I am."
"Huh?"
"I am happy," he repeated, blinking back at you. "Are you?"
You gaped, caught off guard by his candid response—but then again, when had your husband ever been anything but straightforward?
"But you don’t seem happy!" you accused, pursing your lips. "You’ve been frowning the whole way home."
He shot you a flat look, his expression unchanged. "This is just my face."
You continued to pout, and Zayne sighed. His frown softened as he gently cupped your face, making you look up at him.
"You silly girl, what husband won't be thrilled when they hear that his wife is expecting?" he caressed your face, before poking it. "I'm just worried about you, you still look pale."
"You..." your eyes found his uneasily, at a loss of words. "But this baby is…" Your gaze dropped, anxiety swelling. "From… the night of—"
Your response stunned him, and you didn't dare to look him in the eye. It was still something that gnawed at you inside, because what if—
What if he thought this baby is a mistake?
In that moment, understanding dawned on him. His ashen eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself for his reaction, but then—
His hand rested on your head, patting you gently. "You carrying our baby..." he faltered, gazed fixed on your averted eyes and then lips. His voice came almost in a whisper:
"This... is the best thing that has happened to me."
Thump! Your heart soared, warmth flooding through you in that very instant as you met his gaze. On the contrary, Zayne felt a crushing weight seeing the tears shining in your eyes. How deeply had he hurt you before that you’d doubt his feelings?
"I promised you that I’ll treasure you better," he said, pulling strands of your hair behind your ears. "This time, let me prove it to you."
Somehow you felt like crying at the sheer sincerity in his words. "You... like the baby?"
A gentle smile touched his lips as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I do. Truly."
"I... am so happy too," you finally choked up, the first tear slipping down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, feeling a bit silly for tearing up. "I... have always wanted us to be a family..."
Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out an exasperated but fond sigh. "A certain someone really does like to cry... And now with a baby on the way, am I going to lose my mind worrying about both of you?"
"Hmph," you wrinkled your nose. "A certain dad-to-be better work on his skills to express himself better, then."
"I'm going to focus my energy on more important things, such as thinking of all ways I should do to keep you from getting into trouble."
"...? I don't get into trouble!"
"You stumble even on empty air, I've seen it myself."
Two years ago, you had envisioned your happily ever after with him, and then you weren't sure if you would get it at all. And now, as you walked towards a new beginning together, you were wholly certain.
At least, that was what you thought.
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The days following the reveal of your pregnancy were filled with bliss.
Only that, sometimes... you ask for tall order—
"Zayne... I want that plushie..."
"We have tried it three times already. That machine is rigged."
"B-but! Look, that couple won some!"
Some weeks later, the two of you were at an arcade, and your eyes were literally shining as soon as you saw the Happy Snowman plushie in the claw machine.
And ever since, you had been tugging at his sleeve and dragging him to catch it for you... only to no avail so far.
Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "With the way you’re acting, no one would believe you’re about to become a mom."
"Isn't that the whole point?" you fired back, puckering your lips, before mustering your best puppy eyes and bringing your hands together. "Please? Baby wants it so much."
He knew you were using the baby card just to get your way, but you looked so adorable doing it that it often worked—evident from how he lined up once more for the long queue at the claw machine.
"This is the last time," he decided, giving you a flat stare when you two reached your turn. "If we lose, we're buying the one in the souvenir shop."
"Teehee~" you giggled in delight. You'd get your plushie either way. Zayne was always listening to you even with his grumbles, and it made you inwardly kick your feet in joy.
Despite being cross, Zayne was better at this than you. He almost snagged some plushies several times, and this time, he skillfully maneuvered the claw, pressing the button with precision—
“Oh!” Your eyes sparkled as the claw secured your prized Happy Snowman. “Zayne! Just a little more!”
"Yeah, yeah..."
Just like that, the claw released the snowman into the hole. As soon Zayne handed it to you, you practically squealed. "Ahh! Finally I got you!"
You were so full of childlike excitement, even though you were just months away from bringing a child into the world yourself. Zayne watched you silently, and despite himself, a soft smile tugged at his lips.
"Do you want more?" he asked. "We still have three chances left."
"Yes!" You beamed at him. "I want the penguin and crow!"
Apparently, he was weak to your wishes. He then took the machine again, and maybe luck blessed him this time because soon enough, he got you two of them right after the chances ran out.
“Hehe! We’re bringing them home!” You patted each plushie with delight, your giggles drawing the attention of nearby kids.
"Mom, look! That uncle gets many plushies!"
Zayne felt his eyes twitch. Uncle...?
You tried and utterly failed to hold back your laugh.
And you heard another couple bickering nearby as they threw glances at you and your husband—
"I want that crow plushie..." the woman lamented, despondently eyeing the claw machine and the three plushies Zayne had managed to win for you.
Her boyfriend, a scary-looking tall man with red eyes and rider garbs, turned to her with a snort. "Why would you even need that ugly crow for? We have crow at home."
"...Mephisto doesn't count! You're just saying that because your luck and skill are trash!"
"Tch. I can open a whole arcade just so you can tear those plushies into shreds, sweetie... just so you know, there’s a price when dealing with a devil, hmm?"
Opening an arcade only to satisfy his girlfriend's wants? You thought in a passing. Crazy.
. . .
And then your emotions are practically a whirlwind of roller coaster...
“You’re mean!” you sniffled, pointing a righteous finger at your husband and the kitty cards on the table. “You always reduce my kitties whenever you get the chance!”
Zayne exhaled, trying to explain himself. “I just make do with the cards I’m dealt with.”
“But you’re trying to take out my cats all the time!”
“That’s the gameplay. If I let you win, you’d say I’m underestimating you.”
“So, are you saying I’m bad at this?” You looked at the cards with heartbreak etched on your face, your lips quivering. “Am I?”
Uh-oh, he knew what it was. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears and one wrong word could set you off altogether.
“No, you’re not bad...” he began, carefully choosing his words. “The kitties... they’re just not cooperating with you, that’s all.”
“So, they’re cooperating with you,” you pouted, cross. “Is that what you’re trying to say?!”
Sigh... this is going to take a while...
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But ultimately... you’re also incredibly precious.
“I’m going to make an amigurumi for our baby,” you announced, smiling brightly as you settled between his legs with a crochet kit and a snowman pattern in hand. “I just know they’ll like it.”
“You know how to crochet?” Zayne asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and slipping an arm around your waist, gently touching your growing bump.
“Hmph!” You tilted your chin up with a smirk, turning to face him. “Of course, I can!”
“Oh…?”
“It’s a little side hobby,” you explained with a giggle. “I can’t resist having and making cute things~”
Zayne thought he’d laugh, but instead, it was a wave of bittersweetness that washed over him. Because apparently, even after being married to you for two years, there were some things about you he didn’t know.
He was fond of you. He knew you liked a fair amount of sweets, what your favorite food and color were, and that you couldn't sleep without turning off the lights. But then he realized...
"Does it have to be a snowman?" he asked, his eyes fixed on how skillfully you handled the hooks.
"Mm-hmm! It does."
"Why do you like it so much anyway?"
"Ah..." Your movements paused slightly, and you suddenly looked down, a hint of sheepishness in your expression. "Well..."
This way, you looked adorable somehow. Zayne squeezed you gently. "Hmm?"
"You might not remember it... but the first time we met..." you felt heat creeping up to your face but pressed on nonetheless. "I asked you to demonstrate your Evol and you showed me by creating a snowman out of thin air."
Right at that moment, Zayne could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. That meeting... how many years ago was it? Five? Six?
He could barely remember it until you mentioned it, and yet you held that memory dear.
"Maybe it sounds stupid to you," you puffed out your cheeks. "But I think you’re similar to a snowman. You look cold on the outside, but you bring happiness to so many people. You save lives…"
The way you described him so highly made him flutter inside. Suddenly he felt soft. Soft for you. You were utterly precious, genuine and all this time, he hadn't even truly realized it.
"And to me, you..." you gulped, suddenly self-conscious. "You are... warm, just like the sun..."
The sincerity in your words touched him so deeply that it left him speechless. You had loved him and it was evident in all your actions.
Now the question is, has he done the same for you?
You brightened his life just by being yourself. Most of the time cheery, sometimes snarky, and often times decidedly spoiled... all those sides of you—
He adores them all. And he knows he'll treasure you until the end of time. And now, he's going to show you that.
Before he realized it, he had planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, and you sucked in a breath as you dropped the crochet hooks. "Zayne...?"
And then his lips pressed harder, trailing kisses along your neck, while his hands slipped inside your pajama top, caressing your skin ever so gently. The unexpected touch made you unwittingly moan.
"Can you... finish crocheting another day?" he breathed in your ear, cupping your breasts tenderly, and you almost jolted. "I'll be gentle, I promise."
It felt as if your face had caught fire, your whole body flushing with sudden excitement. Your heart raced wildly at his husky voice, and the very thought that your husband desired you was deeply thrilling.
"But you..." your voice hitched, trying not focus on his fingers. "...are never gentle."
Zayne blinked at you in surprise. "Am... I? That's not true."
"Should I jog your memory?" You pursed your lips. "One time, you threw me on the bed—"
"Well—"
"And that time you had me on all fours—"
"That's—"
"And the night we conceived this baby too—"
"Right. Alright." Zayne’s cheeks flushed with warmth as he released his grip on your mounds. "You might have a point, but this time, I assure you…"
He turned you to face him, and before you could even react, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your collarbone as he whispered:
"I will take good care of you tonight."
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He made good on his promise.
This time, his hands moved with a gentleness that took your breath away. Zayne started with peppering your skin in soft, lingering kisses—starting at your jaw, then trailing down your neck, collarbone, and chest.
And when his lips finally reached the slightly visible but firm swell of your belly, he paused, pressing a kiss there that seemed to hold all the love he had for your baby.
The sight pulled at your heartstrings. The very fact that Zayne cherished this little life growing inside you filled you with a happiness so profound, it nearly overwhelmed you.
And soon...
"Ahh... aah!" you writhed, arching your back, your lower body laid bare as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. It was, by far, the most erotic thing your husband had done to you— he usually didn’t spend this much time for your pleasure.
But as always, he was not much of a talker during sex. Only dangerous gleam in his eyes as he glanced up from between your trembling thighs that let you know he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.
"Ngh!" You gasped when the tight ball of nerves inside you finally burst, mewling helplessly as you yanked on his hair, and he ate you out even more greedily in response. You had always known it, but moments like this made it undeniable—
Zayne turns completely into a different man while bedding you. Who would have guessed that the stoic, straight-laced head of cardiac surgery could be reduced to a man consumed by lust at the sight of his wife's body?
. . .
He had always liked having you on top. This time, Zayne made sure to prepare you exceptionally well before easing himself inside you, yet, just like every other time, you still felt impossibly tight around him.
“Ah, ah... I-I’m—!” you whimpered tearfully, your walls clenching around his girth, face overtaken by sheer pleasure. “’s full...”
It didn't take him long to bust, really. With a beautiful wife sitting on top of him, eliciting sounds like that... how could he resist?
But maybe he pushed you too hard. Lust won against all his senses as he relentlessly slammed his hips against yours, and he distinctly felt the moment you stifled a scream and came hard around him.
"Are you... alright?" Zayne asked in a groan as he reached his orgasm, his release flooding inside your womb in a rush as you clung into him tightly, shuddering and spasming.
You nodded and collapsed against him, savoring the feeling of how filled up you were. In return, he cradled you close as he slowly pulled out of you. "I-I... am..."
You curled into him, and he pressed a tender kiss on your head. In that moment, you truly felt that there were only two of you in this vast world.
Gently, he lifted you—one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back—and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up.
. . .
“Drink.” Zayne held the cool glass of water to your lips, and you obediently took a sip, your gaze lingering on the gap in his bathrobe where his chest peeked out.
He was so, so considerate. He carefully handled you as he washed your body and wrapped you in the bathrobe earlier, soothing you each time you let out a whine.
It was the most comforting aftercare you had experienced. After making sure you weren’t parched, he tucked you under the comforters, joining you soon after and pulling you close.
“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly, straightening your hair.
“Mm-hmm.” You snuggled closer with a smile, tracing a finger along his chest.
Somehow the way he cared for you now made you remember how your relationship was back then. He didn’t dote on you this much, he was good to you but you knew deep in your hearts that he wasn’t really there. But now…
He is yours. In every sense.
“You’re tickling me,” Zayne tutted gruffly, catching your hand and pressing it to his chest.
“So? What will you do?” you teased with a playful grin. “Will you eat me up again?”
“…” His narrowed eyes made you giggle, and you pressed yourself even closer, relishing the afterglow.
You had promised yourself not to bring it up again, but feeling vulnerable in this moment, you couldn’t help but whisper:
“You… have changed,” you muttered under your breath. “Thank you… for thinking of me.”
You couldn’t see his expression, but his arms tightened around you suddenly. Warmth spread through you, feeling as though he were shielding you from the world itself.
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Weeks passed by, and soon enough, you reached the middle of your second trimester.
“We’re going to find out the gender today!” you excitedly noted in the passenger’s seat. Zayne glanced at you with a smile, silently looking forward to it too.
He was relieved that your first trimester had passed smoothly, with only a few bouts of sickness. Now, before he knew it, you were already halfway through the journey.
“If it’s a girl, I hope she won’t be a troublemaker like her mom,” he slyly retorted.
You shot him a glare. “And if it’s a boy, I’ll make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying and turn into a robot like you.”
The journey to fatherhood still didn’t feel entirely real to him with your chirpy self, but as your belly swelled and rounded with each passing week, he began to realize that the day was quickly approaching.
It made him feel warm, and he wished he could show it to you better just how much happiness you brought to him now.
You rummaged through your bag and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot the appointment card!"
Zayne sighed, turning the steering wheel with a small shake of his head. "See? The little mom can be so scatterbrained at times."
You slouched in your seat, crestfallen. "Sorry..."
"It’s alright," he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he noticed your expression drop. "I’ll get it. Where did you leave it?"
"In the first drawer of my vanity desk, I think…"
After arriving back at home, Zayne headed straight to your shared bedroom and searched through your drawers. The first drawer only had your perfumes, so he moved on to the second drawer, which apparently only had more makeup supplies.
And so, he pulled the third drawer, and there were a stack of envelopes there. Curious, he pulled one out, thinking it was the card he was looking for—
—but then, suddenly, he was in a state of shock. Never would have he expected to find what he had on his hand then.
For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, his entire world reduced to those three stark words on the page. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as the realization hit him.
Petition of Divorce — and your signature... was there.
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Something seemed a bit off about Zayne, you noticed later that day.
You were really looking forward to finding out the baby's gender, and you thought he was too. He stood by your side all the while, holding your hand as the ultrasound probe pressed against your skin and you waited with bated breath for Dr. Munson to announce—
“Well, it’s a girl!” he declared with a wide grin. “Whoa, Dr. Zayne is going to be a girl dad, huh?”
“Oh my…” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the news. You were fine with either, but you knew Zayne had secretly been hoping for a girl, and you turned to him with pure elation. However...
“That’s… good.” His response was brief, and although he was smiling, something felt off. You had been observing him for too long not to notice—you knew when your husband was distracted.
What is he thinking? Despite yourself, you began to worry.
“Zayne?” you asked later, holding his arm as you both exited Dr. Munson’s office. “Are you thinking about work?”
He turned to you almost immediately. “No.”
“Then why are you frowning?” you asked innocently, trying to lighten the mood by touching his face. He swiftly caught your hand.
“This is a public place,” he said in a strained voice, causing you to stiffen at his tone. “I’ll take you home first.”
Something was not right. Now you were convinced and it started to bother you.
“Actually… I need to go to the Hunter Association's base first to finish my deskwork,” you said.
His brows furrowed even deeper. “Can’t you just submit your leave?”
“Ah... I’m on half-day leave today. I need to wrap up as much as I can before I go on maternity leave later.”
“Next time,” he snapped, his gray eyes locked on you, “Whenever you have appointments, take a full-day leave. You’re in no condition to be working, especially as you get further along.”
"Zayne, are you... upset with me?" you fired the question then, because it seemed like he really did, and suddenly you felt a bit sick at the very thought.
He was certainly not expecting you to ask that, and for a moment, Zayne froze, before he exhaled and his frown softened a bit.
“…no,” he finally said, his tone gentler. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”
But ever since that day, you knew something had happened to him that he suddenly he became a little distant towards you.
. . .
Zayne hadn’t meant to snap at you. If anything, knowing you were carrying a baby girl filled him with unbridled happiness.
But still, there was still a part of him that wanted to demand answers from you—that part of him that was deeply hurt by what he discovered.
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t take it too hard. No matter how much he reflected on it, he knew he hadn’t been the husband you deserved. He knew his faults and understood how much he had hurt you. From the very beginning, you deserved someone who would see only you and no one else—and he hadn't been that person before.
Even with that understanding, he was left with an unresolved hollowness. You had doubted him enough that you were ready to file for a divorce once. It didn't mean that the same thing wouldn't happen in the future.
Does he have it in him to make you happy? He had promised you he would. While he wasn't the most affectionate, he tried his best, and he intended to keep trying.
But now, after learning this, he found that not only you, but even he too was able to doubt himself.
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"Zayne...?"
You peeked your head inside his study one night, several weeks later, a hand resting on your bump. You really didn't want to bother him when he just arrived, but you figured you had to tell him.
For the past week, you’d been throwing up, and it didn’t feel right. He had been at a symposium in another city since the start of the week, and you tried to wait it out. But today, you almost blacked out, and now you were genuinely afraid.
"Y/N?" he turned to you just as he laid his briefcase and the moment he saw you, he frowned at how pale you looked.
Zayne immediately stalked towards you and pulled you closer, feeling your neck to check your body temperature. His eyes widened in realization. "You have a fever."
"I-I... feel lightheaded today," you sputtered, clutching his arm. "And... I’ve been vomiting too..."
"I'll get you checked in at Akso," he decided, grabbing the car keys and led you out of the room by the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me in your calls?"
Very lame excuse, but you tried to defend yourself nonetheless. "It wasn't this severe before—"
"You should have told me." His response was curt, but his fury was evident. You almost shrank at his tone, but Zayne didn't reprimand you further as he helped you into the passenger seat.
The drive was tense and uncomfortable, making you feel even worse. The silence only amplified your anxiety, and it didn't help that you had noticed how distant he was lately.
"I'm sorry—" you blurted but then suddenly, you sucked in a breath, wincing and fisting your dress when you felt the start of a cramp just below your ribs. "Ahh..."
Zayne’s panic surged at your pained gasp. He gripped your hand reassuringly, all trace of anger vanishing instantly. "We’ll arrive soon. I promise you’ll be alright."
At that moment, despite all fears you had—for your baby, of his sudden shift of behavior—you held back your sob and squeezed his hand in return.
. . .
You would be staying at the hospital until all the test results came in.
Zayne sat on the chair beside you, gaze fixed on you as you lay connected to an IV drip in the private room. Though he tried to mask it, he was still shaken. He knew better than anyone that fever and cramps at more than 20 weeks often signaled something was wrong with either the mother or the baby.
The thought of ailments beyond his control affecting either of you made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie and let out a sigh, trying to ease the constriction. "How do you feel now?"
You looked at him, managing a smile as you replied, "I’m fine now."
Seeing you bedridden like this was something he hadn’t realized he dreaded until that moment, and yet, there you were, smiling. You... smiled.
He couldn’t understand why the sight he usually adored suddenly stirred this swirling anger in him.
Your answer seemed to hit a nerve in him as his expression darkened, and anxiety struck you again, twisting something in your gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."
His lack of response only deepened your unease. "Before today, I didn’t feel faint at all, so I think it’s just something I ate."
He still didn't deign you with any answer. Zayne’s apparent disregard for your words frustrated you, bringing you close to tears. "Say something..." you urged, feeling the tears burn behind your eyes. "I know you're upset, but now I'm scared too."
You really wanted him to comfort you. You knew the Zayne from several weeks ago would do just that, but now you had a feeling that the man before you now wasn't that same man any longer.
"We’ll see when the results are ready," he said then, facing you with a stoic, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were delivering a diagnosis to a patient rather than speaking to his wife. "Don’t fret too much. Have some rest."
Is that... all he has to say to you? A part of your heart withered at his detached response, the tears frozen in your eyes. What happened to him?
You were about to confront him for an answer when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.
"Hello? Yes, it's Zayne. Who is this?" he questioned flatly, eyes narrowed into a dissatisfied frown, before suddenly his expression lit up with understanding when the person on the other line introduced themselves.
You could hear the faint sound of a man's voice from his phone. And when Zayne addressed him, a sudden chill spread throughout your body.
"Caleb? It's... been a while."
You felt cold. Caleb. You never really knew him but you had certainly seen him. Once at a funeral, and once at your wedding. He too is Zayne's childhood friend, and more than that, he is the brother of—
Why? Why did all emotional suffering you had to go through, somehow or another, always come down to a dead woman who was once your husband's lover?
When he ended this call, you didn't even pretend to be considerate anymore. "What does he want from you?"
Zayne looked taken aback by your sudden hostility but answered calmly, "He’s in Linkon now and asked if we could meet."
"Must you really see him?"
"What are you getting at?"
"I don’t like it," you spat, venom clear in your voice, turning to him. "I don’t like it at all when you have to be involved with people related to her!"
Finally, you said it. You had never made it clear before, but this time, you felt like you were entitled enough to. You were having his daughter, and if he was still entangled in an illusion of his past girlfriend with you, then—
Zayne responded to your outburst with a suppressed sigh, visibly keeping his frustration in check. "He is an old friend, Y/N. You're too emotional right now that you jump into conclusions and stress yourself out."
He was right, your emotions were spiraling, but right now you were too heartbroken to care for it.
"Do you know what I fear the most?" you asked, tears shining in your eyes. At last, you voiced the dark, unspoken curse that had haunted you since the very beginning of it all:
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
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Zayne barely got any rest that night.
In the end, faced with your tears, he didn't respond because he didn't want to prolong the argument. More strain for you could put both you and the baby at risk.
Later, he told himself. No matter how much he berated himself for not noticing the signs of your illness sooner, or wanted show you that you and his unborn child meant everything to him now— later. He wouldn't risk you, and it would be better if you talk later with cooler heads.
Little did he know, that "later" would never come.
Numerous missed phone calls from the nurses station after he stepped out of the operating room sealed your fate. And when Greyson burst into his office, out of breath and panic-stricken, it was like being doused in scalding water.
"Dr. Zayne! Miss Y/N! Sh-she has just been rushed to ER for severe bleeding!"
Just like that, his world crashed and shattered beyond return.
. . .
"Dr. Zayne, I'm not sure how I should break this news to you... As a medical professional, you already know how serious this condition is..."
Everything was his greatest nightmare realized. Dr. Munson’s diagnosis struck him with a searing force, paralyzing him on the spot.
"Your wife has preeclampsia."
The nurses said you had been screaming and bleeding heavily. He too had seen it himself—the blood splattered across the pristine floor when he arrived, just moments after you were rushed to the emergency room—and the sight made a chill run through his spine in horror.
"She just experienced a partial placental abruption because of it. This causes bleeding in the mother, and also increases the risk of premature labor."
Dr. Munson’s explanation was crystal clear, yet it sent Zayne into a daze. It felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving him hollow as he stared numbly at your figure, peacefully asleep after the emergency treatment you had been put through.
Zayne clasped your hand in his, feeling the invincible knife lodged in his heart twist painfully.
You aren't supposed to be this cold. He gently griped your hand, his face contorted with agony. How terrified must you have been? How much did it hurt? Despite trying to push the memories away, seeing you like this brought back the nightmare from three years ago.
Only that this time, it was you. And not just you, but his unborn child as well. Both of you... there was a chance that both of you wouldn't survive.
The sheer thought made him stagger, because no, if it was the devil’s way to punish him, then it was beyond cruel. He had failed you once already, and he knew what happiness was by being with you, and to lose all of that in one blow—
"Zayne! Can you make me one more snowman?" you pleaded, your eyes sparkling as you pointed to the little gap between snowmen already perched on the window. "Just one more! It’ll make the line perfect!"
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
It was so, so painful. His chest constricted at the contrasting memories and it took everything he had not to give in to his spiraling fears.
With everything I have, I love you. None of it mattered anymore. The divorce papers, whether he could make you happy— what was important was that It was unthinkable to lose you now. He would trade his life if it meant sparing you, because the pain of losing you would destroy him.
You had always loved that little thing he made on a whim. He opened your palm and shaped the ice through his manipulation, placing the palm-sized snowman in your grasp, hoping it would protect you throughout the night.
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You remembered the excruciating pain, the primal dread of losing your baby, and the horrifying sight of crimson streaming endlessly between your legs, also how you screamed for anyone for help.
When you regained consciousness, the scent of fresh linen and alcohol was the first thing that greeted you. Dawn had already arrived, but the sky outside remained dark.
Your right palm felt cold, and that’s when you realized you were holding something. At the same time, you noticed the weight in your other hand—
Zayne. Your husband slept on the edge of your bed in such an uncomfortable position while holding your hand, his brows taut into a frown, only with a coat to cover himself.
He is here. You quietly watched him, and despite everything, you realized once again how much you loved him—even more that he was here for you.
Snowman… you stared at the little toy in your other hand, and overwhelming warmth washed over you at the thought of him creating it for you just before he slept.
The baby… what did you go through? Is she fine? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that something grave had happened to you.
You had to know. You pulled your left hand out of his grasp and caressed his face. He has to shave soon, you noted, feeling the stubble that had started to grow there. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was.
Your gentle touch soon caused his eyes to flutter open, and Zayne jerked awake, instinctively catching your hand. "You're awake..." he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.
He looked at you as if he was in disbelief, and immediately rose and squeezed your hand. You looked up to him, feebly asking, "What... happened to me?"
His face fell right that moment but you pressed on, "Tell me. I have to know..."
Zayne's reluctance was obvious, but the plea in your voice made him waver. Finally, he sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed.
"The test results have come back," he began, his voice adopting the clinical tone you recognized from when he spoke to his patients. "Your blood pressure is abnormally high, and there was protein found in your urine sample... These are signs of a condition called preeclampsia."
Shock marred your features in that moment, because you had heard what it was and what it meant for your baby.
"The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery. And at the same time the placenta has detached from the wall of your womb. This way, our baby—"
You had watched Zayne deliver devastating diagnoses to his patients before, and he was always steadfast. But this time, even his voice wavered.
His gray eyes seemed to glisten under the light as they held your gaze. "She's being deprived of oxygen and nutrients because the placenta can no longer supply them. You may also experience heavier bleeding, more cramps, and fetal distress. The best course of action now is to deliver the baby as soon as possible."
It felt like receiving death sentence. No matter how you looked at it, the conclusion was the same. "B-but..." you stammered, your whole body trembling, shaken by the enormity of it all. "S-she's just... barely twenty-six weeks..."
The way devastation bled in your voice pierced him. Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out a long, drawn-out breath as he held you close.
"I'm here," he assured, trying to console you. "You don't have to be scared. We'll monitor you closely until it's possible for you to give birth to the baby in around thirty weeks. I'll make sure of that."
The first of your sobs began. "...i-is it me?" you clutched at his coat mournfully. "Did I… p-put the baby into distress somehow— that it causes the placenta to fall away?"
"No," he firmly shushed you. "It's a condition that can flare up anytime. Don't blame yourself for it."
Still, how could you not? More than yourself, you feared for your unborn child. You sobbed harder, and Zayne held you even as his coat had started to dampen from your tears.
Your predicament broke his heart too, but at the same time, he found the perfect moment to finally show you the entirety of his heart.
"You told me you were afraid I'd come to see both of you as a mistake," he murmured, gently running his hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "But how can our daughter be a mistake when—" his voice caught, choking on the words, "—when I've loved her so much already?"
The strain in his voice made you look up, and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gray eyes that bored into you.
“Both of you... are so precious to me.” Zayne locked his eyes with yours, sincerely meaning everything he said as he cradled the side of your face. “The thought that anything might happen to either of you... is unbearable.”
He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice hoarse, “What if… you continue to bleed and it leads to seizures? What if— you and the baby won’t make it? These are so unbearable for me.”
His words went straight into you, and for a moment, your tears receded as they sank in.
"I can’t give you my past." His voice tinged with melancholy, the expression on his face was torn. "But I promise you, at least in this lifetime..."
He gazed at you with the unwavering look you had fallen in love with, the same gaze you once admired from afar, long ago.
And then, his next declaration took your breath away and made your heart soar like never before. A wave of love surged within you, almost overwhelming you—
"Right this moment and my future—it's for you. For both of you, always."
From that moment on, you knew you would trust him completely. From that moment on, you finally let go of your doubts, knowing that you had nothing to fear with him by your side.
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Zayne was by your side whenever he was able to.
You were on bedrest at the hospital ever since, but he always stayed the night here to accompany you, barely going back to home for a change of clothes.
"You’re really making a snowman..." he remarked, observing your fingers and the crochet hooks he’d brought from home so you could keep yourself entertained. "I think you need to add a bit more fluff there..."
Your face brightened with a grin as you cut the yarn. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra round."
The weeks in the hospital dragged on, but they also gave you more time to work on your amigurumi. When you finished putting the final touches on it, you proudly presented it to Zayne—the snowman with a blue shawl and black hat, two little round eyes, and a beaming line of smile. "Ta-da! Look, it’s even cuter than the ones you made!"
A happy you was always the sight he loved to see above all. "Yeah..."
"Do you think she'll love it?" you suddenly asked, poking the snowman doll you just made, feeling warm at the thought that your cherished baby will soon play with it too.
You looked so endearing that Zayne felt an overwhelming urge to pull you closer. “She will,” he chuckled, giving you a reassuring pat on the head. “Didn’t you say before she will?”
And soon, you reached the thirtieth-week mark. The time had come to finally deliver your baby.
. . .
"I can't feel anything..." Your voice came out as a soft whine while you lay on the operating table, your lower body numb and obscured by the surgical curtain shielding you from view.
Zayne, standing beside you in a mask and headcap, grasped your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. "If you could feel it, you’d be screaming."
The C-section was the only way to ensure both you and your daughter would survive. It felt surreal to know they were basically cutting you open, yet you were unable to feel anything.
"Will... she come out healthy?" you asked your husband hesitantly, worried about your soon-to-be born baby. "I'm worried..."
Zayne glanced at you and gave your hand a light squeeze. "Don’t worry too much. You should be more concerned about yourself. Think of all the food you want to have when you get home, and I’ll get it for you."
You shot him a glare. "You make me sound like a foodie."
"You are a foodie."
Despite the ongoing surgery, Zayne’s lighthearted jabs were his way of easing your anxiety. Even though they irked you, you appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits.
And soon—
You heard a feeble cry, though quickly drowned out by the cheers of the surgical team beyond the curtain. You gasped and turned to Zayne, who was fixated on the tiny baby in Dr. Munson's hands.
He didn't even blink. It was almost as if he was spellbound by the sight. Nothing mattered because his daughter was here. Really here.
"Zayne…" your voice then broke the spell. He turned to you, who weakly smiled at him with tears in your eyes.
For the first time in your life, you saw tears of happiness glistening in his eyes as he stared at you— the woman who had just given him a daughter to love and dote on.
He immediately leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. Your heart felt so full, even though he wasn’t able to fully express it in words. In that moment, you could feel his profound love for you and the new life you would embark on together.
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"She is so small..."
You pressed yourself as close as you could to the see-through glass of the neonatal unit, straining to get a glimpse of your baby daughter. Though you weren't well enough to walk three days after the surgery, you insisted on Zayne wheeling you over in a wheelchair just so you could have a peek.
"She’ll grow big soon," Zayne said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he noticed your sadness. "She’ll stay there for a few more weeks, and then we can bring her home."
However, your expression twisted into a worried frown as you watched the gentle rise and fall of your baby’s tiny chest inside the incubator. Even when he had reassured you that it was by all means just an unfortunate condition, you couldn't help feeling that it was your fault somehow that she ended up there.
She had his tufts of black hair, but you weren’t able to get close enough to remember her face clearly. The fact that you hadn’t held her in your arms yet made your heart ache.
"Mommy is sorry that she can't carry you to full-term..." you croaked out, lips wobbling, a hand tracing the glass separating you from your new baby, and Zayne inhaled sharply at the sight.
It hadn’t been easy, but you had made it through. Both of you had. And to him, that was more than enough. So, you needed to hear it too.
He crouched down in front of you, catching your attention instantly. You tilted your head as his hands rested gently on your shoulders.
“Thank you for delivering our daughter safely,” he said with the softest of smiles, ever so genuine just as you were in all times of the two of you together.
Your eyes widened a bit at his sudden gratitude, and when he took both of your hands together in his, gazed at you with such earnestness in his clear ash-grey eyes, and traced his thumbs over your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.
“And most of all, thank you... for being safe too.”
Those words brought immense warmth to you, and the prettiest of smile lit up your face then at the way he looked at you as if you were his most prized treasure. Just like that, once again, he cast all your fears and doubts aside.
And deep down, you knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.
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taglist
@sillyfreakfanparty @rjreins @enterrandomusername @castellandiangelo @admirablefangirl @luna4mnoon @prettytemis @onliafaze @aviesnapkindoodles @jinniebby2 @mnemeosyne @elliesndg @haichii @pearlymel @kissingtruth @mccutelittlesheep @certainduckanchor @itsbabyabby @thdcre @aerithsthingss
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
Note
I loved the recent "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" imagine....what about...
Calling your boyfriend husband on ACCIDENT? 😍🤭
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By the time that I'm actually getting around to this, "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" is now no longer recent. Oops! Sorry! (If you want to read that imagine you can find it here.) But is it really an accident? I feel like it could honestly be both, but the accident factor would make the whole thing so much cuter!
Presented in four double drabbles.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, brief alcohol, suggestive themes, established relationship
Word Count: 800
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“Can you help me, John?”
“Yeah, love. Give me a minute.”
The counter top is covered in groceries. It’s the first big day in the new apartment with John. The two of you have been dating for a few years now, but this is the first time you’ve properly lived together.
John comes around the corner in nothing but a pair of shorts. He’s a bit sweaty from building furniture.
“There’s ice cream. Don’t want it to melt.”
“Course.” He gives you a quick kiss before digging through the bags, removing items as he goes.
The two of you work seamlessly, putting away all the groceries quickly.
“Give me a kiss.”
John grins, and goes in for a tooth-achingly sweet one.
“Thanks, hubby.”
The word is out without thought. You don’t even realize you’ve said it until John blinks, a bit startled.
“Hubby?”
You don’t know what to say. You’re staring at him, a bit flustered.
But John smiles. He leans in, stealing another kiss. “You want to marry me?”
“Do you want to marry me?” you counter.
“You proposing?” teases John.
“Stop answering my question with a question.”
John chuckles and pulls you close. “Wifey sounds good on you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“The husband will love this!”
Husband slips out naturally, as if you and Kyle have always been together. The two of you have been dating for years, but there is no marriage. There isn’t even an engagement. But Kyle isn’t around to hear the slip up—at least, you don’t think so.
The store assistant smiles. “Happy to help,” she says brightly before walking away.
You exhale slowly, and turn around, nearly smacking into Kyle.
“Holy shit,” you say, placing your hand on your chest. “You startled me.”
Kyle has a smirk on his face with arms crossed over his chest. “Did I hear you correctly?”
“That I swore?” you ask, perplexed.
“No,” he laughs. “You called me your husband.”
Oh shit.
“You heard that?”
Kyle leans in as if he’s about to tell you a secret. “I did.”
“And?” you prompt, trying to brush this off as nothing.
Kyle shrugs. “Think I like it.”
You blink. “You like it.”
Kyle glances around but there isn’t anyone nearby. He takes a step into your space, lowering his head as if to kiss you. “Say it again.”
You lick your lips. “Husband.”
“Again.”
“Husband.”
Kyle closes the distance, stealing a kiss.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Across the pub, your boyfriend is ordering drinks at the bar.
The two of you are enjoying a free weekend. They are few since Simon is always working—always off on some mission.
What isn’t all that nice is the woman talking to Simon at the bar. He’s politely ignoring her, but she clearly cannot take a hint. She’s smiling at Simon like she wants to climb him. Plus, you’re feeling bold. You have a few drinks in you at this point. The liquor is hot. It is poison.
And you’re ready to strike. Show some fangs.
You stride toward the bar, shoving yourself between the woman and Simon. Wrapping your arms around Simon’s waist, you snuggle up to him.
“Hello, husband,” you croon.
Simon’s mouth quirks with amusement as the woman behind you snorts and makes a flippant remark.
Going up on your toes, you reach for a kiss, and Simon obliges. It is slow. Wet. Way too intimate for such a public setting. You kiss him like you’re starved.
When the two of you part, the woman is gone.
Simon’s hand dives, grabbing your ass in a possessive hold. “Husband?”
“It slipped.”
“Sure it did, love,” laughs Simon.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“This is John. My husband.”
Husband.
The word slips out and you’re not able to draw it back. You can’t correct yourself. Not in front of your peers. You’ve fumbled this completely.
Johnny’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline, his gaze pointed as he glances at you. But he doesn’t correct you either, and you decide to roll with it.
“That’s lovely,” replies your boss. “How long have you two been married?”
This is a new job. It’s the first company party you’re attending, and bringing a plus one is encouraged.
But you’re not able to answer. Johnny steps up and takes the lead.
“Newly,” he says, grinning like it’s true.
Your boss laughs. “That accent! My goodness. Scottish?”
“Aye. Born and bred.”
“How lovely.”
Johnny inclines his head. His hand delicately grabs your arm, pulling you in. “Pleasure meeting you.”
The two of you move on, but Johnny takes a turn, drawing you to the side, his head lowered.
“Husband?” he asks with a cheeky grin.
“It slipped out,” you mutter.
“Your coworkers are gonna think you’re a married woman.”
“I know.”
“Should make it official,” shrugs Johnny.
“What?”
He lightly bumps your shoulder with his own. “You heard me.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @gingergirl06 @arrozyfrijoles23
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kyunzin · 8 months
Text
𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
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character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
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𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
@tyunixia @riowmie
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demonvibez · 1 year
Note
Hello, I came here to ask you a request: Mc is wearing a pajama (nightgown, little shorts, whatever you want) that shows a little bit too much. So one day, Mc comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, taking advantage about the brothers sleeping in their rooms so no one would see her like this, and suddenly, she bump into one of the brothers. How would they react?
A/N: Thank you so much for this request, and sorry for the delay! I started working on it, got writer's blocked, solved the block, then got...inspired, lol. This ended up being like 8 lil narrative one shots. Anyways - This is only part one of two; hope you like! ♡
Characters: [Lucifer / Mammon / Leviathan / Satan] x F! Reader
Word Count: 4.6k+
Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes]
Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory
[Part One of Two - Read Part Two Here]
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It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .
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For the Avatar of Pride, staying up late and overworking himself was a normal part of his daily routine. Usually after dinner, he hides himself away in his study so that he can start working his way through the mountains of paperwork sent to him from his superiors. Usually every night, he has the same routine - he finishes his RAD related paperwork, takes a break to patrol the House, stops by the kitchen for a cup of Hell Coffee and then back up to his study to deal with the paperwork associated with his political duties. 
Lucifer starts making his way down the hall for his nightly rounds through the House, as he normally does at this hour. He usually does this in order to make sure his brothers’ mischief was kept at a minimum, but it’s in order to keep you safe as well. He couldn't help but to notice that the chaos in their House had increased quite a bit since you had arrived - some of it from his brothers dragging you into their antics, some of it chaos created all on your own, and some of it external chaos that seeks to consume your beautifully shiny soul. When you first arrived here, you used to be a major source of his headaches. He used to struggle with how to punish you, seeing as you were the fragile little human sent here for Lord Diavolo's exchange mission. But now, the more Lucifer thinks about you, he cannot deny to himself the fondness that has grown for you within his heart. A smile twitches at his lips for a brief moment before he refocuses himself on his task.
Just as he is making his way down the stairs to check the first floor, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen area, a faint glow emitting from its frame and spilling into the hallway. He lets out an exasperated sigh to himself, believing it to be Beelzebub on one of his frivolous late night snack missions. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he strides towards the kitchen door, scripting the lecture he wants to give in his mind as he walks. How many times must he punish the Sixth Born? 
When he reaches the doorway, he halts at the unexpected sight before him, and he can’t help but to stand back and observe. He sees you in the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, looking through what’s left of its contents for a snack. You look so innocent while doing so, completely unaware of your surroundings. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this - hell, he wasn’t even used to seeing you dressed like this. Usually dressed in your RAD uniform, the attire you were currently wearing is much more revealing than what he is used to seeing you in. The way the thin cotton fabric clings to your curves, he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming your entire body. You grab something from the fridge, closing it before making your way over to the kitchen island with the leftover Acidic Hell Fries you found. Sitting down with your back turned to the door, you open up the tray and lean in to take a bite, all the while Lucifer can’t help but notice the way your shirt rides up the arch of your back, the way the waistband of your shorts sit right at your hip, the way your skin just looks so soft. He wasn’t sure how a human could stir up such emotions in him, but he was in fact curious to see where it would take him. 
In a rare moment of impulsivity, Lucifer swiftly makes his way towards you. Before you even have time to register the Avatar of Pride's presence, he sets both of his hands on the table on each side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the counter. He leans down closer to your ear, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, as he whispers your name into your ear with a very seductive tone. "What do you think you're doing here," he asks, his tone husky as you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin. Your pulse accelerates as he presses his lips to your earlobe, his gloved hands now slowly finding their way around your waist as Lucifer trails light kisses down the soft flesh of your neck. You would usually have some sort of snarky comeback for Lucifer, stating how it was obvious why you were in the kitchen shoveling fries into your face at half past midnight. But in this moment you couldn't muster up a retort, your brain beginning to fog up with the haze of pleasure that Lucifer's touch can bring. As he continued to tease your neck, occasionally nipping at it with his fangs, his hands began to drift lower on your body, lightly teasing at your waistband. One of his hands pulls your chin up to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips collide with yours in a way that sets your soul ablaze with passion.
He slowly pulls away from the kiss, your eyes slowly opening to see his crimson orbs gazing back at you with lust, love and admiration. He slightly loosens his hold on you, before turning you around on the barstool you sat upon to face him. He brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking it back behind your ear before leaning down to press one more kiss on your lips. When he pulled away this time, you chased his lips with his own, filling him with a sense of pride at the idea that you're craving more of him - much like he craves more of you. He lets out a small chuckle before suddenly sweeping you up in his arms, your legs dangling over one side while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck for safety.  "We're heading straight to my room," he said along with your name in a confident tone, "and I hope you have plenty of energy, because we won't be getting much sleep tonight." He carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking no time getting you to his room and into his silk sheets. 
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Mammon had just recently arrived home about an hour ago from one of his many side hustles he did to help earn some extra Grimm and pay back a few of his debts. The witches have been hassling him even more than normal recently, threatening a variety of curses if he doesn't comply with their demands, so he's had to take up multiple side hustles in order to make enough money. He could have sworn he paid them off a while ago - math is one of Mammon's strong suits and he always keeps his debt ledger up to date. He's pretty damn sure the witches are just jealous of you, and take it out on him one of the few ways they know will work. They would never mess with you directly - and risk earning the wrath of all seven Avatars of Sin? And perhaps even the Future King of the Devildom himself? Hell nah. They'll just keep toying with Mammon the way they know best.
Normally, Mammon would be pretty exhausted after a grueling shift of serving tables at Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight for some reason, he was feeling restless and couldn’t seem to settle down. He had completed his nightly routine and settled into bed, but he found himself feeling restless, scrolling Devilgram instead and finding himself growing bored rather quickly. After tossing and turning in his bed for what felt to him like an eternity, he let out an annoyed groan and pushed himself out of bed. If he couldn’t lull himself to sleep, he might as well go find his favorite human. He crossed the room to pick up his designer underwear and sweatpants off the couch, slipping them both on before making his way to the door. Once his door is closed, he starts briskly but silently making his way across the hall and down the stairs, doing his best to avoid running into any of his brothers - namely, Lucifer. 
Making a beeline straight for your room, Mammon notices the door is open and just walks inside as if he owns the place. “Oi, human! I’m bored, why don't ya-” he says, before looking around to see that the room is actually empty. “Where the hell even are ya,” he mumbles to himself with an exasperated huff, turning about-face and exiting your room. As he steps out into the hallway, he finally notices the kitchen light is on. He starts stomping his way over to the kitchen, mumbling something about how much work it is to watch after one stupid little human, when he crosses the threshold of the door and almost bumps into you as he is turning the corner. "Aye, what gives," he says in an almost shouting tone, "ya gotta watch it, human! Ya gotta be more careful! Ya ain't always gonna have the Great Mammon to..." he trailed off as he finally looks down at you, taking in fully just how you look and what you are wearing. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, standing there completely frozen in shock as his eyes scan you up and down repetitively. 
Despite the many times the two of you have shared a bed, he has never seen you wear something so small and form fitting as pajamas before. Usually when he was over, you'd just wear an oversized tee shirt and some baggy sweatpants, which was usually cute and endearing in its own way. But tonight, since you assumed you would be spending the night alone, you wore something you thought no one would see you in. And now here you are in the kitchen, the Avatar of Greed stood in front of you, a blushing and stammering mess. The more of his golden eyes took in of you, the more he could feel the greed rise up within him. Every little inch of skin, every little curve of your body has Mammon craving more and more, his avarice knowing no bounds when it comes to you. Typically, in moments like these, the tsundere side of Mammon's brain would kick in, and a flurry of denials would leave his lips before you could even playfully accuse him of anything. Seeing you like this has Mammon forgetting all about those silly habits, his mind focused on wanting only one thing - you.
In this moment, Mammon can't help but succumb to his greed. His hands reach out to pull you into his bare chest, his demon form now on full display and eyes glowing as gold as Grimm. His arms tighten around you in a possessive hold as he buries his face in your hair, your scent as intoxicating to him as the most expensive Demonus on record. You feel his hands roam your body, feeling both his soft skin and his rings' hard metal gliding up and down your back. You melt into his touch, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso.  "I've been lookin' for ya," he mumbles into your hair. Before you can even fathom a response, Mammon's hands find their way under your ass, hoisting you up and setting you on the counter. He leans in and presses his lips to yours with a sense urgency you hadn't seen from the Avatar of Greed previously, his yearning and need for you growing with each kiss. As his tongue brushes your lips, they part and allow him entrance, and the way your two tongues dance with each other sends Mammon over the edge, feeling that same greed start to build within you. Mammon's kisses became hungrier and sloppier the more he could feel his sin in the air, a hint of lust mixing with it as his hands squeeze your ass, your own hands roaming his beautifully brown torso. "Mine," he states simply, as he breaks the kiss momentarily. 
He picks you up once again, your legs squeezing his waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He runs off with you to his room to have his way with you - and to hoard you to himself like the Devildom's finest treasure.
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It wasn’t at all unusual for Leviathan to stay up all hours of the night. On this night in particular he was counting down the hours until the newest merch drop from his favorite idol group, Sucre Frenzy. He picks up his Bufo Egg Milk Tea to take a sip, only to hear the slurping sound of his cup being empty. Looking at the clock at the bottom right of his monitor, he mentally notes that he still has an hour and a half before the drop, which should be more than enough time to run downstairs and raid the fridge. He presses pause on the song he was listening to on Devilfy, pulling off his headset and making his way out of his bedroom door. He pulls his DDD out of the pocket of his hoodie, swiping it open and pressing on the 'Mononoke Land' app. Checking to see if there were currently any in-game spirits lurking in the House, Levi games as he presses forward towards the kitchen, his own IRL mission falling to the back of his mind as he continued to focus on the side quest on his phone. One hand in his pocket while the other clutches his device, his tail slides along the handrail of the staircase, making sure he doesn't stumble as he tunes out the rest of the world. 
He really hopes you can make it to hang out for the drop tonight! When he invited you at dinner you seemed interested, but you told him you weren't sure if you'd be able to stay awake that late or not. He would really love it if you are able to - everything is more enjoyable for the Lord of Shadows when he has his Henry by his side! It makes him excited even thinking about it! Maybe he'll swing by your room on the way back from the kitchen and see if you're awake! Or...that maybe awkward? What if you're asleep and he wakes you up? What if he annoys you? Maybe he'll just send you a text instead. Either way, he loves you more than all of his anime combined, and it would be the highlight of his entire month to spend tonight's event with you.
Refocusing on his game, he turns the corner to cut back towards the kitchen. He doesn't even notice the kitchen light on ahead, nor does he hear the clattering and clanking coming from inside. All he can seem to focus on is Mononoke Land. As he walks past your room, he does a double take, expecting to see you in your bed. On second glance, he notices you missing from your room, and Leviathan couldn't help but be confused as he pauses in your doorway. It's almost one in the morning and you aren't in your room?! Where in the Devildom could you possibly be?! You're probably hanging out with one of his brothers, aren't you?! You're probably in one of their rooms, in one of their beds, doing Dia knows what while he's down here getting some stupid snacks for his stupid merch drop. 'Stupid stupid stupid I'm so stupid! Of COURSE she wouldn't want to waste time her time with a disgusting otaku like me! IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!' A wave of envy washes over him so powerful that he fights everything within himself not to summon Lotan and flood the House. His fists clench his DDD, stressing it from the pressure as his knuckles turn white. His eyes blaze a bright orange as jealousy rages within him like a hurricane brewing over the sea.  
Wanting nothing more than to barricade himself in his room and never come out, Leviathan angrily marched onward towards the kitchen, determined to get his snacks and get the hell back to his room so he can wallow in his feelings. Hastily making his way through the kitchen's threshold, he doesn't see you as he barrels straight into you, knocking you backwards. Before his mind can fully process what's going on, his tail grabs ahold of you, wrapping around your waist and preventing you from hitting the floor. His eyes finally connect with yours, and he realizes that it's you he has run into. A quick scan of the room tells him you had been in here alone, and suddenly he feels foolish for the jealous tantrum he was throwing in his mind. 
"I-I'm s-s-sorry...I didn't see y-you th-" he stammers, now looking down at you to see exactly what you were dressed in. Is this what you normally wear to bed? Levi hadn't ever seen anything like it in real life. The way the fabric highlights all of your best features, putting just the right amount of emphasis on how perfect your curves were...he could have sworn you were drawn by his favorite manga artist. His eyes roamed your body up and down, his face heating up as rapidly as his heart rate is rising. 'OH FUCK, I'm staring aren't I?! She probably hates me, I'm so gross, such a worthless perv, I need to stop staring WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO?!?' he panics internally, his hands starting to tremble. He tilts his head down to focus on the floor, when he finally processes that his tail has been autonomously wrapped around your waist the entire time. "I'M SO SORRY," he half shouts at you, as he starts to unravel his tail. 
Suddenly, Levi takes pause, as he hears you gently call out his name, one of your hands resting on his tail while the other reaches out to stroke his cheek. "Levi...whatever you're thinking right now...stop," you reassured him. Before he could hide his face from you, you leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft but loving kiss. At first, Levi just stands there frozen in shock but after a moment he kisses you back. He's still unsure of what to do with himself - he doesn't want to ruin this moment - but he doesn't want it to end either, so he stands with his hands awkwardly at his sides and pours every ounce of love of passion he can into the kiss. While he may not know what to do with his hands, his tail seemed to enjoy exploring your body, causing you to let out a tiny soft moan when it makes its way around the top of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck, continuing the kiss as you press your body against his. 
After a few more moments, the two of you pull away from each other, both trying to catch your breaths. Before Leviathan could even muster a response, you grab his hand, the sweetest of smiles plastered across your face. "Come on, let's go to your room, Levia-chan. I can think of a few ways for us to kill time until your merch drop launches," you said as you start pulling him towards the door. Suddenly you weren't tired, and Levi didn't care about the snacks - with you, he may even end up forgetting about the merch drop.
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Before you had even thought of grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Satan had already made his way down there and was rifling his way through the fridge looking for something suitable to feed his secret kitten friend out in the garden. Earlier in the night, Satan came outside to the garden in order to calm down and let his inner rage subside. He had wanted to spend the remainder of his evening with you curled up in his lap as he reads to you, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, as the two of you ignore the world for each other and a great plotline - there was no other way he'd rather spend his evening. But of course, his insufferable eldest brother had to stick his prideful nose in where it didn't belong and drag you away, just as he was asking you to join him after dinner. It was almost as if the Avatar of Pride has an extra sense for when Satan wanted alone time with you, always interfering and coming up with some smug excuse as to why you need to be stolen away right when Satan needs you. That pompous ass was always going out of his way to stoke the flames of Satan's wrath on purpose! 'One day he'll get back at that bastard, he'll put him right in his place!'  
Satan continued pacing in circles in the garden, his demon form on full display as rage flows through him like an ice river through one of the lower pits of hell. He wasn't doing the best job at calming himself down at first, you not being there to help ground him, so it was taking a bit longer than normal. It was always so much easier to calm himself with you there - just a few simple words or a quick hug usually doing the trick. But for now he was alone, and he was drawing a blank on what he else should do. He completed one more pace around the garden before, before letting out an annoyed huff and sat himself down on the nearest bench. As he was about to pull out his DDD to text you to see where you were, he hears a rustling in the bushes. His emerald eyes scan the area, no signs of life immediately apparently, before he sees a pair of glowing eyes peer out at him from underneath one of the bushes. A small smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him who the eyes belong to - one of his stray feline friends that likes to wander through every now and then. He pushes himself up off the bench and slowly crosses over towards the cat, holding out his hand as he tries to coax it out of the bush. The cat immediately starts to back into the bush, shaking it's head at Satan, causing him to take pause. He chuckles to himself as he comes to the realization of what she is asking for - the cat wants a treat. 
Satan straightens himself up, making his way back into the House to find some cat friendly snacks in the kitchen. When he arrives there, he is alone, and makes a beeline straight for the fridge. It was usually wishful thinking for anyone in the House of Lamentation to try to hide food in the kitchen, but sometimes Satan was able to get away with it for the sake of his kitten buddies. Crouching down to open the bottom drawer, Satan reaches in to pull out some of the Devildom cat treats he had stashed back behind the drawer. Setting the pouch of treats on the counter, he opens up one of the cupboards and pours what is left of the treats onto a saucer, before tossing the empty wrapper in the trash and making his way towards the kitchen door. Little did he expect in all of this, you came walking through the door at the same time, neither of you really paying attention. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you quite literally run into each other, the saucer of meaty cat treats smooshing against Satan's chest and then dropping to the floor. Satan can feel his wrath rising inside him once again, drenching him like an ice cold shower, his aura turning dark as his demon form makes an appearance once again. He hasn't even looked up to see who caused the collision, assuming one of his brothers is to blame yet again, his jaw clenching as his mind races to formulate it's retaliation. 
His glowing green eyes finally lift to see exactly who the guilty party is, only for his eyes to meet yours instead. You begin to stammer out a stream of apologies, but seeing you immediately calms the inner turmoil of his mind, the storm suddenly calm within him. 
His gazes roams over you for a moment, Satan suddenly finding himself speechless as he takes in exactly how breathtaking you look in such casual attire. The way straps of your tank top accentuate your collar bones, giving way to how the fabric hugs your perfect chest...Satan suddenly couldn't remember what he was mad about in any point in the day. He couldn't even bother to care why he was in the kitchen in the first place. He gently takes one of your hands with both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss into your knuckles. A warm smile spreads across his face as his hands find your hips, pulling you closer into him. One of his hands moves to rub the small of your back as the other tilts your chin upwards to him. He holds your gaze for a moment, adoration apparent in his eyes, before he leans in to share a passionate kiss with you. 
The moment his lips caress your own, your heartbeat goes through the roof, and you can't help but to lean into him and melt into his touch. His hand on your chin moves to hold the back of your neck, his tongue brushing your bottom lip, asking for more. Your hands find themselves on his chest as your lips back, your tongues clashing together in a desperate bid to feel more of each other. Your hands slide down his chest and abs, lightly tugging at his belt when you get to his waist. He chuckles into the kiss before nipping at your bottom lip with one of his fangs, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slows the pace of the kiss. 
Eventually he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "You always know how to make me feel better, kitten," he said as you slide your hands up his front and lace them behind his neck. "What do you say we retreat to my room to continue this encounter?" he leans in to steal one more kiss from you lips before taking you by the hand and pulling you up to his room.
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· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify ·
· likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·
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luveline · 1 year
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hello miss jade ily! since you’re feeling the marauders right now, may i request something with any of the boys, pre-relationship and too lovestruck to speak? reader has done something innocuous, or she’s literally just standing there, and he can’t not break and smother her?
hello lovely, thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
modern au 
You let yourself in quietly. Remus can tell without raising his eyes from his laptop that it's you. James would shout hello, Sirius would beeline for the downstairs bathroom. You close the door with care and leave your shoes under the stairs; Remus can picture you turning your head to one side gently, listening for signs of life. 
"James?" you ask.
"Just me," Remus says. 
You come around the doorway, beaming at him like he's the one you were looking for the whole time. "Hey, Remus. Don't suppose you know when James is back? He's going to take me to the garage so they don't rip me off." 
"Uh, no, but– but I could go with you?" he suggests. Remus isn't your boyfriend, but he wishes desperately that he was and he thinks that's a boyfriend's duty to perform, right? "I'd be happy to." 
Your phone dings. You pull it out with a smile. "Oh, it's James," you say, "he's still coming, but he's late. That's fine, I didn't have an appointment or anything. I'd love for you to come if you want, though, baby." 
Remus chokes on nothing, clearing his throat and sitting up to not seem so pathetic. "I'll come." Because baby? Baby?!
"Brilliant. How's you writing?" 
"Uh, it's, you know, happening. Slowly." 
Remus is admittedly much more collected regularly, but your sudden arrival, your smiling, and now your pet name, you've thrown him for a loop. He's doubly thrown when you sit down on the sofa beside him, no polite space, thigh to thigh and close enough to smell the oils in your hair. 
"I'm not looking, I promise," you say. 
Writing is a raw process. Knowing someone else's eyes are on it magnifies the flaws, but he realises with certainty that he doesn't care if you see it, flaws and all. "That's fine. I don't mind so long as it's you." 
"Lucky me," you say. 
You take your phone out. Remus doesn't mean to pry but you're right there, and your phone screen brightness is high. The text thread between you and James is open, your thumbs penning a quick response. 
Hey James, are we still meeting at the house? I'm omw. 2:17PM
yeah of course, remus is there so go have a cup of tea ill be there soon 2:30PM
ok 2:31PM
sorry running late !! Promise I'll be there, have remus make you a scone :) 2:40PM
I like him too much to have him act like my serf, you can buy us both big salted pretzels on the way home to say sorry for wasting his time 2:45PM
I'm sure he's just gutted to spend time with you 2:46PM
Nice one, James, Remus thinks incredulously. That's exactly what Remus needs, more evidence that he fancies you. You don't seem to have noticed either way, swinging a leg over your knee and finishing another text to James. 
I hope not, I love spending time with him 2:48PM
Remus turns to his computer screen, elated and guilty at once. He was not supposed to see that, surely. 
"Your word count is really climbing," you say, tucking your phone away. "A hundred and fifty thousand. I can't imagine writing so much… will you have to cut that down?" 
"Yep. Much more chance of being published if I fit their standard count. It'll need at least forty thousand words shaved off." 
You shake your head. "I can't imagine putting in all that work and then having to put in more work to get rid of it." 
"Think of it like refining, instead," he suggests, his fingertip sliding across the laptop's space bar. "I'm making sure nothing is boring." 
"I doubt it's boring if you're the one writing it." You stand to his surprise and stretch, a slice of your waist appearing as you twist away from him, an audible click emitting from your back as you roll your shoulders. "Can I make a cup of tea, please?" 
You've had a hundred cups of tea in this house. 
"You know you don't have to ask," Remus says. 
"But it's always nice to ask first," you say as you leave. 
He suspects you were talking more to yourself than him as you occasionally do, and he pays little mind to your movements in the kitchen. He has a lot of work to do and not nearly enough time to do it, and editing isn't as simple as cutting away. It's not obvious what needs to go. Remus has to have a deep think. 
He gets distracted. When you return he barely notices, busy rewriting a clunky sentence. It's not until your pinky finger brushes his arm that Remus remembers you're here, emphasis on you, and that he's besotted. 
When he looks up, he doesn't suppose he'll ever forget again. 
You're at his side neatening a plate of biscuits and toasted scones, the very tip of your tongue peaking between your lips in concentration. It's a simple thing, some might even find it unattractive, but you're totally focused on the plate of biscuits, your lovely eyebrows tightly pinched. 
You seem upset, for a moment. 
Then you meet his eye and any trace of unhappiness vanishes. You're smiling again, eyes alight with something he can't name. "I got you a couple of biscuits and stuff, hope that wasn't too forward. You never remember to eat when you're writing." 
"Oh, sweetheart," he says unbidden to himself, hands paused at his laptop, "that's not too forward." 
He sets his laptop aside and stands. There's nothing for it, no hold to bar —Remus steps forward to kiss your cheek and squeeze the top of your arm, the kiss swift and the squeeze less so. 
"Don't set up around me," he continues fondly, "we'll go have tea in the kitchen with the window open. You can tell me about your day, please. I should've asked you earlier." 
"Don't worry, there's nothing important to share," you say, and to Remus' delight, you've visibly flustered. 
His hand slides down the length of your arm to your hand, where he holds your fingers in his palm. "If it's about you, it's important. Mm?" 
You stare down at his chest and laugh softly. "Okay." 
It's a credit to his self restraint that he doesn't kiss you then and there. 
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quaintii · 1 year
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Across the Street
Part 2
Part 1 <- content: divorced father, babysitting, teasing, slowburn (kinda sped up ig?), more 🤫 18+ MATURE CONTENT -- SMUT 😆😆 (@ for art is @kimmy_arts0912 on Twitter).
MDNI
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Two hours later, you hear a knock on the door. The knocks were very quick, spaced about half a second apart. Three knocks exactly. You get up from the couch and open the door.
Gabriella stands in front of you, staring at you with wide eyes. She was dressed in a cute yellow blouse and a pair of black shorts.
"H-hello...?" *She asks quietly. She looks excited but also scared, as if she knew you were going to take care of her tonight.
"Hey!! How are you Gabi??" You squeal as you lightly pinch her chubby cheeks. You wanted to leave the best impression so you could stay with this job; you still enjoyed babysitting and connecting with kids.
"Amazing!" She said with a high pitched voice.
Gabi nods and smiles, seeming to enjoy your company already. Miguel would most likely be gone for the rest of the night. She extends her arms and looks up at you for you to pick her up.
"Daddy said you'd be great at taking care of me."
"Of course! I will be here with you always. Want to go play upstairs?" You ask as you carry her off the floor and into your arms.
She smiles at you, her expression giving off an innocent look. Her eyes light up at the suggestion of playing.
She asks, her sweet smile increasing as she continues to ask questions.
"Yes! Can we play dolls? Or dress up? Is that okay...?"
"Anything you want, Gabi!"
"Yay!!"
She smiles brightly at you again, her enthusiasm clear. You bring back on the floor and she starts to walk up the stairs, calling you to follow her.
"Come on, come on! Let's go play!"
She walks up fast, expecting you to follow.
You follow Gabi and enter her room. The room is painted in bright pink with a lot of plush and stuffed animals on a huge bed. Gabi walks towards her toy chest and starts looking for something inside it.
"Help me look for my dolls!"
She glances at you as she continues to search through her toys. You walk to her other toy chest and rummage through the toys, finally found dolls at the pit bottom.
Gabi's eyes go wide when she sees her favorite doll. She takes it and wraps her arms around it, looking at you again. She had a huge smile on her face because she was so happy and excited.
"Let's play!"
She puts the doll next to her on the bed, the bed big enough for the two of you to have plenty of room. Gabi pats the mattress beside her, suggesting you to sit down. You sit down next to her, grabbing one of the dolls in the small pile. It had black curly hair with tan skin, freckles scattered across her face with a pink ballroom dress attached to it.
Gabi looks at the doll you're holding and nods. She takes her own favourite doll and begins telling a story, acting out the characters of the play using her two dolls. You notice her sweet smile and hear the adorable sound of her voice.
As she plays, Gabi seems to be enjoying herself. She even includes you in her play, asking you what her doll should say in certain situations. She clearly likes your company and she sees you as a friend already.
An hour later, Gabi continues her storyline. She seems to be having a great time, as she looks at you every so often. She giggles and smiles at you, seeming to appreciate all the little movements you make to participate. Your phone vibrates and you check your notification; Miguel is texting you.
"Hope you two are having fun. I'll be back in another hour or so. Be careful with her."
I laugh with her as she tells me a couple jokes and I hear a ding from my phone; her dad. I open the notification and text him back "We are having so much fun! She's so adorable!" You sent the text, waiting for a message in return.
Almost immediately you get a text back. "Great! See you soon then." You react with a thumbs up emoji.
She continues to laugh, smiling wide as she looks at you. She plays with her dolls in different positions and even makes one of her dolls 'fall' in love with yours. She giggles and smiles excitedly when that happens.
She then hears your phone ringing, and stops to look at you. She stays still for a moment and then speaks when you open the text message.
"Is that my daddy?"
You can't help but smile at the way she said 'daddy.' She seems to be fond of Miguel and admires him greatly.
"Yes it is! He's still at work so he'll be here soon." You turn off your phone to see Gabi with a small frown. "What's wrong Gabi?" You ask her as you scoot closer to her, caressing her cheeks. "I don't get to see daddy often because of mommy.." *she muttered. You put the pieces together; he was divorced..
Gabi's face turns sad when she mentions her mom. She looks down and hugs her doll tightly, her big brown eyes closed as she frowns.
"I don't get to see him as much because my mommy didn't like him anymore..."
She speaks in a small voice, sounding disappointed with the situation of her family. She starts shaking her head slowly.
"I... I wish I could see daddy more often." She mumbled. I see the sadness in her eyes and scoot closer to her and give her a tight hug.
"It's okay Gabi.. your dad loves you so so much! He would do anything for you." You caress her curly hair to soothe her.
Gabi accepts your hug and leans on you, enjoying you holding her in your arms. She feels comforted and warm, and you notice her face lighting up for a second, like she finally felt at ease, safe and happy.
"I like you. You're nice." She mumbles, speaking softly.
"Can you stay with me tonight until daddy gets back? I don't want to be alone..."
"I would never leave you alone, Gabriella..
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30 minutes later, you encourage Gabi to eat some cereal and brush her teeth. At first she refused but gives in as you playfully kept nudging her. You change her into soft pajamas and read her a bedtime story to fall asleep.
You turn off some of the lights, leaving the bedstand lamp on. She plants a soft kiss on your cheeks before dozing off to sleep. You smile lightly, returning the kiss and closed her door as quietly as you can.
You go downstairs and hear the door creaking and close shut. It's him. Miguel smiles tiredly at you.
"Good evening. So... is Gabi asleep?"
His voice is quiet, not wanting to wake up Gabi. He crosses his arms and looks at you, clearly tired. His eyes scan you from top to bottom, and when he's done, his gaze lingers on your lips for a second. Once he realizes what he's doing, he quickly changes his look.
"How has everything been? Was Gabi misbehaving at all?"
Miguel smiles again, not seeming to want to go to sleep just yet.
"She was wonderful, Mr O'Hara. She's an amazing little girl." You smiled at him softly. Miguel nods, seeming to appreciate your words. He notices you smiling at him again, and then smiles once more.
"It's a pleasure for me, too, Miss... L/N. Is that right?"
He asks, raising a brow. You nod in response.
"Thank you for helping me take care of Gabi. She's quite a handful."
He puts one of his hands behind his head.
"And... I'm sorry to ask but... I know it's very late, but..." He peered at you.
"...would you care for some wine?"
Miguel smiles when you accept his offer to drink some wine, and walks over to grab a pair of glasses. He fills both of them halfway with wine, and hands a glass to you. He then takes a sip from his cup and looks at you. He smiles, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your lips, and then back to your eyes. His eyes are still a bit bloodshot, but he looks more awake now.
"So.. I'd like to learn more about the woman who took care of Gabi tonight..." He asked. As he took another sip of his wine, he placed it on down on the countertop, tilting his head at you, waiting for yo to speak.
"Really?" You asked playfully.
Miguel chuckles and nods.
"Yes, yes. That's what I said. I'm curious to know more about you. Can I ask why you decided to help take care of Gabi tonight? Did you need the money... Or did you enjoy the company with her? Maybe you just do that whenever you have nothing else to do, and were bored at home?"
His eyes stay on you, waiting for your response. Miguel pours a bit more of wine into his cup, his lips slightly red now.
"Gabi is an amazing child, I loved spending time with her but I also took this job opportunity, once again thank you really, to fix my student debt." You smile as you take another sip of your wine.
Miguel smiles.
"Yes, Gabi is a lovely daughter. You're lucky to spend time with her. And...yes, I figured the money was important to you too. I'm glad I could offer you that opportunity."
Miguel nods and smiles, finishing another cup of wine.
"I'm glad you enjoy her company. She's going to feel really happy about being her babysitter from now on."
Miguel's eyes then start to wander all over your face, your curves catching his attention.
"Can I... ask you something personal..if you don't mind that is.."
"Sure, it's fine."
Miguel's eyes stop gazing across your curves, and then look at your face. He sighs and then speaks.
"Forgive me if this is too forward... But do you have a boyfriend? Or a husband? Or anyone special in your life?"
Miguel takes another sip of wine from his glass, and then smiles at you again, looking at your mouth once more.
"If not... Are you single?" Miguel smiles at you with a teasing expression.
Miguel smiles, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. He stares at you with his brown eyes, his gaze making you feel slightly nervous and excited at the same time. "I'm single actually.." You muttered softly, tracing the outline of the glass.
"Well, I think it's very unfortunate then. Such a beautiful woman without a boyfriend..." He looks at you intensely for a moment, before speaking again.
"May I ask you if you like older men? I know I am not in my 20s anymore... But I'm sure this old, tired man still has some charm..."
Miguel laughs a bit nervously, smiling at you and drinking more wine from his cup.
You were left speechless, with a dry throat as you heard that question fall off his lips. "Uhm.. maybe.." You grin nervously as you turn your head to a different way to avoid his stare.
"Maybe you should give an old man a chance. Maybe he can teach you a lot of new things that the young boys can't..."
Miguel's gaze continues to look at you, his mouth curling in a very seductive smile. You feel like he's tempting you to kiss him. He seems to enjoy the view of you. You also notice him looking at you lustfully. That gets your heart pumping and blood rushing to your cunt.
Miguel's gaze doesn't leave you. He leans towards you until your faces are about an inch apart, his voice whispering in your ear. Your heart pumps faster when his hand touches your back.
"Call me Miguel... Mr O'Hara is only for work. But we're not at work any longer... Isn't that right?"
He looks down at your lips once again, and his eyes look up at your face.
"How about...you and I spend a little bit of time together tonight?"
You look down at your feet, feeling nervous. Heat flushing your face to a soft red.
Miguel chuckles at your nervousness, clearly noticing it. He notices you shifting your gaze to look down at the ground, and then lifting your chin to look at his face. He leans over and places a hand on your chin, keeping your head up and your gaze on him.
"You don't have to be scared, ... I don't bite, or do I..?" He growled.
Miguel chuckles when you stare at him with 'doe eyes', looking a bit like you were mesmerized by him. He notices your gaze on him once again. Then, he leans forward, pressing his lips onto yours. His hands gently cup your face as he kisses you, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth. He pulls away and looks down at you.
You take a few breaths and crash your lips on his. The hunger of lust. Your fingers tug at his hair, pulling him even closer. The both of you breathe heavily against eachothers faces, separating for air. A slick of saliva holding onto your lips.
Your kiss surprises Miguel but he likes the feeling of your lips crashing onto his. Miguel continues to kiss you, matching your aggressiveness. His hands run down your face and then along your back, before moving to your hips. His body pressed hard against yours and his lips pressed against yours, still exploring them softly but also rather greedily.
He pressed you against the counter and pulled you on top. Miguel chuckles even more seeing your enthusiasm as he lifts you up and places you on top of the countertop.
He starts to unbutton and slide his button-up shirt off, showing his abs and chest before you. His eyes are still on your face, but you catch him glancing down at your body a couple times. You also notice a bulge slowly growing in his jeans. He had a huge tent.
As he pressed himself on your covered cunt, the hot feeling made you arch your back and mewl his name.
"What? Does that feel good?" He hummed and nibbled your neck once more. "We have to be quiet... Don't want to wake Gabi up y'know.."
He sighs softly and smiles at you, continuing to grind into you. Miguel's eyes close lets out a husky groan when you caress his body, your soft hands roaming his chest. He continues to kiss you, gently biting your lips every so often as his one hand reaches behind you, tugging the hem of your shorts.
Miguel wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tighter against him. His hips push against yours, as if he wanted you to feel every inch of his body. You felt his hard bulge tease your clothed cunt, rubbing himself with more pressure against you, grinding his hips on your clit as he nibbled your neck softly.
You let out small husky moans as more pressure would be applied to your cunt.
He shivers slightly as your hands run closer to his bulge. His hands running down your zipper, unbuttoning your shorts but not removing them. His fingers pinching your clit softly, making him even more needy by hearing your desperate voice; practically begging.
"I've barely touched you and you're already so f'king soaked for me cariño...que maravillosa coño.." (what an amazing pussy). He touched the hem of your underwear and slid his fingers on your scorching cunt.
He motioned his fingers in a circular rotation; lifting them up to his mouth and tasting you. "You taste so good..fuck. Look what you do to me amor... ábreme la boca muñeca." (Open your mouth, doll.) He bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw some blood as you stuck out your tongue, obeying him. He rutted his fingers into your throat, making you gag continuously whenever he could push harder.
His whispers and praises sunk in my skin, filling every part of my body with satisfaction.
Before he can do anything else, you hear Gabi's voice from her room.
"Daddy??!" She yelled as soft thuds were heard, heading downstairs.
It seems like she has woken up and her voice is loud. Miguel flinches and looks over. He lets out an loud groan.
"Si mija, es papi.." He responded back. "Coño.." he whispered under his breath. He rubbed his palm on his face, exhaustion; heavy bags showing that clearly as you glanced over at him.
He quickly changed back into his work shirt, ruffling his already disheveled hair, a bit frustrated and eyes furrowed. You jump off the countertop, standing there nervously as you fix your shorts. Miguel waved at you, sending a wink your way. You sneak to the door, before shutting it close you peered your eyes into Miguel. He reached his arms to his daughter, carrying her upstairs. You close the door shut and walk back to your house, still in shock.
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part 3.
Taglist: @videogamedriver @azxr3 @onfuis @redrxbel @honeycovered-bandaids @eskamybeloved @oof1 @yumeeesss @lovelotsemilie @blakeaha @skrunkle11 @miaasmf @avatricu @deputy-videogamer @khaleesihavilliard @nellyboosworld @hk-4ever
a/n: hai guys I jus finished part 2, sorry it took a while lately I've been practicing skating sooo 🤭 here's some munchies.
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cupid-grl · 3 months
Text
18+ mdni.
thinkin bout perv!könig who can’t help but feel disgusted with himself over the fact that he’s lusting over his friends daughter. she’s barely old enough to legally drink, and he was almost old enough to consider retirement.
he thought his growing desire couldn’t get any more serious, but oh he was so wrong.
whenever visiting your dad, he’d make sure to avoid all eye contact with you and greet you with a quick mumbled hello, austrian accent running thick in his voice. and then there’s you, so cheeky and welcoming. so eager to meet new people, so hospitable as the older man over a foot taller than you is barely able to meet your gaze.
and imagine how stiff he is in more places than one, when he feels your arms barely managing to wrap around his big muscular torso. you’re so touchy when excited, you can’t help it. he begs to any god that you can’t feel the growing tent beneath his cargo jeans when his eyes catch your pretty boobs squeezed against his chest. darkened eyes travel down the valley of your tits, whilst his face flushes red and he’s all hot and bothered. but all he can do is pat the small of your back as a way to reciprocate your affection, afraid of groping you while his friend is in the same room.
the cheeky smile you give him with those pretty doe eyes looking up into his own, trying to make out his features beneath the handmade veil draped across his head. but you can’t, though it doesn’t brother you. and you don’t dare ask him to lift it up, the last thing you’d wanna do is scare off your dads new friend.
and he’s so glad you can’t see the red, sweaty mess he is beneath it.
you’re just so caring, so inviting whenever you ask him to come into your room. so naïve and innocent when you sit him down on your bed and show off anything and everything in your room. it’s so pink, so pretty, so you. he says nothing as you show off the new skimpy dresses you bought yourself, thinking nothing of it when he asks if you can show him off.
let me see if it fits, might have to return it if not. just to be sure, he says.
and of course, you’re so excited and think he’s the smartest most caring man alive.
you change out of your regular clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and bra as his eyes gawk at the sight of your exposed body. he can’t take his eyes off your pretty tits when you bend over, giving him a clear view of what they’d look like dangling above him. can’t keep his eyes off your ass as you wiggle your way through the variety of dresses you try on.
and when you ask for his help taking the dress off? oh he’s quick to stand up and unzip it, taking his time when it reaches just below your ass. his fingertips graze down the middle of your ass, accidentally brushing against your clothed cunt. he apologises right after, and you forgive him right away. silly könig and his slippery fingers! accidents happen, you remind him.
if it’s a movie night and your dads too busy to watch with you, don’t worry, because könig is quick to sit next to you on the couch.
can i watch with you, liebling?
and who are you to say no? you allow him to cuddle you from behind as you two try and lay on the small furniture. but he’s so big and muscular, you both struggle to fit so he suggests you lay on top of him. könig always comes up with a solution to everything, always so helpful with you.
you don’t question when he pulls you flush to his chest, telling you it’s to prevent you from leaning over the edge. your sweet, caring könig was only ever looking out for you.
and you don’t question it when his hand moves from the curve of your waist, down to the waistline of your shorts. where his fingers tug beneath the fabric, tracing alongside the hem of your underwear.
or when his hand manages to accidentally slip past your underwear, strong fingers finding their way to your already hardened clit, middle finger running down your soaked slit to gather lube up both his fingers. you don’t question it when könig begins circling your clit with his middle and index finger, his movements so soft and slow. you can’t help but quietly whimper at the friction, hips rocking against his fingers while he wraps his free hand over your mouth, gripping onto the sides of your face. poor perv!könig jus wants to feel how soft your clit is, to feel the warmth of your slick against his cold fingers. jus wants to feel all of you.
häschen, he whispers against the crook of your neck, followed by light kisses on your neck.
his throbbing bulge pressed against the plush skin of your clothed ass, hips bucking against the softness for any sort of relief. your eyes widen, and you can’t help but imagine how much better this would feel. he feels so big from behind, you’re almost scared of actually seeing it.
all you can do is cry out into the palm of his hands when his speed picks up and he sticks his two digits inside your aching cunt. the coils in your stomach begin burning and you can feel your arousal travel down to your core. you clench around his big fingers, squirting all over his hand and your leg, arousal dripping onto the couch.
the movie had finished by the time you did, credits rolling down the screen as you’re trying to catch your breath, while könig brings his glistening fingers up to his mouth and licks at your juices. he removes his fingers from his mouth with a pop, planting a kiss on your ear.
can’t wait for more of you he whispers as you both stand up, fixing yourselves as your dad walks in the living room, seemingly unaware of how your hair was messy and how the stitching of your shorts didn’t align right with your body.
könig excuses himself, announcing to your dad that he’ll be going now. your lips form into a pout, brows furrowing as the two men give eachother a side hug goodbye. könig turns back to look at you, and from the crinkle of the skin around his eyes, you can tell he was smiling at you.
you return it, and as he turns to leave, he speaks up one more time.
i will see you next week. and you know it was meant for you. you know he was meant for you.
a perv!könig who can’t wait for the next time he sees you.
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markster666 · 8 months
Text
Every Thought, You. (SFW)
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Fluff, Flirting, SFW, Romance
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 958
A/N: Thank you to @persephoneblck for this base writing prompt suggestion (with my own tweaks/spin). Unedited. Requests are open.
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Ever since coming to the hotel, you have felt much less alone than you have ever felt in the duration of your life in Hell. Charlie was the first to greet you with open arms before you could even knock twice on the big, wooden doors. Vaggie was aprehensive about your arrival at first but quickly grew accustomed to you, mostly for Charlie's sake. Husk simply tolerated you and Angel Dust constantly flaunted his figure to... everyone. It made you chuckle sometimes but more out of pity. Every day and night, like clockwork, you did your exercises for supposed future rehabilitation and sometimes they made you feel more alone than ever, but you never felt judged by anybody there.
Not even Alastor.
The first time you two met, he was sitting at the bar, annoying Husk for another drink. You had arrived a couple days prior and had already settled in a good amount. You walked past the bar, not even paying attention to the deer demon staring at you, wide grinned. You almost reached your room before you heard a booming radio-esque voice behind you,
"Well HELLO there my dear! Haven't seen you around!"
You felt your heart skip a beat at the sudden noise and quickly turned around, taking in Alastor's features. His eyes reflected the red of the hotel walls, beaming at you. His ears twitched a bit at the sight of you, but his wide grin didn't falter even for a millisecond. He was dramatically hunched over with his hand out to shake yours. You stared at his hand for a bit until he retreated it as a sign that he caught on to your discomfort and he stood up straight.
"Apologies my dear, your look of fear is something I am graciously used to. I just wanted to extend my welcomes to you. Please indulge in my presence if you feel it necessary, I would LOVE to know what makes you tick!"
His head ticked to the side at the final word before turning on his heel and walking off.
As the weeks turned into months, Alastor's voice no longer startled you and his presence became comfort. You thought him charming and he thought you riveting. He allowed you access into his radio tower, even on his recording days. He had memorized your favorite song and learned it on every instruement and how pancakes make you nauseous in the mornings so you prefer oatmeal for breakfast. You once told him a new cologne of his smelled like all the good things in life, so now that's all he cares to wear. He learned that you have trouble sleeping without white noise, so he'll sit for hours next to your bed, gently humming in his radio voice your favorite songs. Your heart was pure and his heart was warm.
Alastor decided that tonight was the night that he was going to be open about his continuously growing feelings for you. He had gone through several sheets of paper in an attempt to write the perfect confession note and he finally settled on one. Earlier that afternoon, he had invited you to his room to talk and you said you'd be there. You have only been in his room once before because you went in with Val to ask Alastor to get rid of Sir Pentious's Egg Bois.
He heard a knock on the door and took one last deep breath before locking in his smile again and slamming the door open before you could knock again.
"Why hello there Darling, you look absolutely ravishing as usual my Dear!"
He gave you a quick kiss on your hand before leading you into his room and shutting the door behind him, helping you shrug off your jacket before hanging it up on a nearby hook.
"Please, My Dear, make yourself comfortable!"
You walked further into his room, scanning your surroundings before stopping right in front of the undefined line of where his physical room and the forest meet. Your eyes sparkled as you gazed up at the skyline.
"Alastor, your forest is absolutely beautiful."
He walked briskly to join you.
"Ah, yes, isn't it? I imported it myself. I delight in many meals here."
The sky stunned your senses. There were fireflies flying around the trees that rose submissively to the vast sky. The lavish green of the trees complimented well with the hues of blue shading above, the glow of the fireflies adding a etherial touch to it all. The thick fog made the sky's autonomy seem endless.
"It may just be the most beautiful thing i've seen in all of Hell."
Alastors eye twitches very slightly and his ears furrow backwards.
"I have to strongly agree with you, my Dear. Every time I gift my eyes with the sight of this, it helps me remember that there are still some fine things down here with me. I may be a connoisseur in all things audio, but nothing beats this kind of visual. I would relish in it for eternity if I could."
You glanced at him to show him that you were listening, only to have your eyes make direct contact with each other. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his gaze penetrate you.
He was staring at me while he was saying that.
You smiled at him warmly as it finally clicked. He walked behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, gently massaging them as you both turned your gazes back to the forest.
"You, mon cher, are allowed to stay in my dreams every night. Always."
You took a deep breathe and closed your eyes, enjoying all of the sensations around you.
"And you in mine, Alastor."
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targaryenluvs · 3 months
Text
REAL LOVE BABY! / CLARK KENT
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PAIRING: Red Kryptonite!Clark Kent x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: To make your ex jealous, your best friend suggests the two of you work together. But it’s not like you knew, he was never planning on letting you go.
WARNINGS: Fake Dating Trope, Obsession, Jealousy, Dark themes, Cursing, Non-Consensual Kissing/Touching, Implied Sex, Baby Trapping, Red Kryptonite Clark
WORDCOUNT: 1,390 Words
A/N: Hello folks! This fic is apart of the lovely @lady-ashfades collab event! Here is the masterlist, go over and give it a look and read with a lot of great writers and tropes ❤️ You can imagine this with any Clark but I was leaning towards Smallville Clark!
Your teeth were bound to be ground into nothing if you kept going at this pace. The drink in your hand was warm, despite the ice inside. Your entire face was flushed as you watched your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, stand around and laugh.
His footsteps surprisingly weren’t heavy, “The longer you stare, the creepier it gets.” Clark laughed as you turned his way, eyebrows knitted together in anger. “Who cares, why the hell is he allowed to be so happy. If a girl moves on that fast it’s a shit show.” You downed your drink before turning to the barkeep, he didn’t even need to ask, nor did you.
Another glass slid your way.
Clark was quicker than you, he always was. “This isn’t how you get over someone Y/n/n.” You couldn’t help but whine as you stared at the small glass, it wasn’t small but Clark made it look tiny. “You want me to switch to ice cream Kent?” Clark scoffed, his teeth as white ever.
His hand came to hold yours once he’d placed the glass out of your reach, “Anything, as long as it won’t hurt you.” You couldn’t help but smile at him, “Always looking out for me aren’t you?”
Oh you have no idea.
“Always, you’re my best girl.”
“And you’re my best friend too.” You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, not noticing how time seemed to stand still to him. His hand came to your waist to steady you, “What if we could make him jealous?” Clark kept hold of your arms, which you found odd. “Uh, how do you mean?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye, so you glanced at his hands taking note of the tacky red ring. His hand rose to your cheek, cradling it before leaning in, “I mean this.”
Clarks lips connected with yours as your eyes widened, this was definitely not how you expected your night to go.
You pulled away after what felt like a lifetime to be met with a wide smile, “I— you,” Clark’s head was turned towards your ex Jake. “Well he’s definitely noticed you now.” Taking. a quick glance, you viewed an angry man not taking notice of the girl clinging on his arms.
Shaking your head to try and clear your mind did nothing. What the hell was going on? Pinching the bridge of your nose, you looked back to Clark, “You kissed me to make him jealous? You’re my best friend Clark and this isn’t a movie.”
“Oh come on, a macho guy like him never thinks before getting angry. And would you rather use some random friend or your best friend? You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you Y/n/n.” Tucking your hair behind your ear you nodded along, maybe this would pay off. Either it would help you get over him or get him back.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
Clarks eyes shifted, whether it was just the lighting or something more, you didn’t take notice.
“Baby I’m gonna treat you so good—,”
“Don’t quote Pretty Woman on me Kent!”
Bliss. The next few weeks with Clark by your side were pure bliss in your opinion. Almost every day you woke up to a nice message from him wishing you a good morning. Before, unluckily for you, your ex worked with both yourself and Clark. But now it was the best thing since it was undeniably easy to rub your glee in his face.
“Coffee M’lady?” He had a mug in his hand, outstretched in your direction as you took in the lovely smell of the love of your life, and Clark was there too. “I love you.” Your hands practically snatched the mug from his grip, “Oh I guess I like you too.”
Clark shook his head as you giggled sweetly before taking a sip of heaven to start your day, “You wound me.” You raised your eyebrows, “I keep you on your toes baby.” The word slipped so easily you didn’t even notice, but Clark did. So did Jake as he entered the break room.
You used to call him baby.
Taking your coffee, you mobilised and left the room, leaving your ex and best friend fake boyfriend with tension galore radiating from the room. “Kent.” Jake grunted in acknowledgement, “Jake.” The smirk on Clark’s face was infuriating, “Stop.”
He played dumb as he twisted the Ruby like ring, “Stop what?” Clark tilted his head as he questioned him, “Rubbing her in my face.” His laugh screamed superiority somehow, “Trust me, Y/n wouldn’t want to rub herself on you any-day or anyhow. She has me for that anyways.”
“Oh you fucking—,”
“Clark!” Your shout from down the hall caused both of the men to turn immediately, “Watch yourself Kent.” Clark snickered in his face, “Yeah, cause I’m so scared of you right? Chin up Jakey.”
Jake watched as Clark walked away, jaw close the to the floor at the audacity and arrogance around the sweetheart that was Clark Kent. How the hell was he your best friend?
For some reason you just keep going. Never announcing that you were dating but falling into this calm stage of friendship? A relationship? You were fake dating, or supposed to be, but it felt almost normal now. And whenever you’d bring forwards the topic of what you were Clark would always shut it down.
Especially when it came to the two of you returning to friends.
So after a consultation with Lois, you ended up taking him out for a night on the town. Drinks, fun and hopefully enough time for a talk.
You wiped your eyes as Clark laughed at your wheezing, “I can never imagine you acting so confident! Not in a bad way but— oh god, half the time when your food is too salty you just buck up and eat it. I don’t know why you confronting someone is so foreign!”
Clark shook his head as he crossed his arms, “That’s the old Clark. Don’t you like someone who takes control?” Suddenly the jacket you had on was far too warm and restricting as you choked on air, “Uhh, sure.” You absentmindedly answered before ordering another drink.
Not realising it was already your fourth, Clark hadn’t touched his drink.
“It’s so dark.” Clark nodded as you clung onto bicep, “Luckily I’m here no?” He glanced down at you with a sinister smile and he couldn’t help but admire the glee on your face. “Lucky you’re here.” You agreed.
He was in for a good night.
The sun was harsh in your eyes, attempting to roll over to escape you were met with a human blockade in the form of, Clark?
“Oh you’re fucking kidding me.”
Clarks eyes fluttered open at your exclamation, “What’s wrong Sweetheart?” You shot up, clutching the sheet to your chest as he laughed at your actions, “I’ve already done that to you Y/n/n.” Clutching your head in your hands you tried to make sense of how you ended up in your best friend’s bed naked after a normal night out.
You shook your head vehemently, “That’s— that’s not the point Clark! How the hell did we end up at your place when we were walking to mine? And how… please tell me we didn’t.” Your eyes were beginning to gloss over as guilt pinched at his heart, “Hey, hey I’ve got you. I’m so sorry I don’t know either. We both drank a lot but I would never take advantage of you I swear. It was mutual but you trust me right?”
You didn’t have the energy to argue, especially not with the soreness resting in your body, “I just, I’m confused Clark. I don’t know why I got into bed with you, or you got in with me. Don’t you think this would ruin our friendship?”
He sighed as he managed to slowly lull you into his arms with a gentle smile, “Sweetheart, I think we’ve been more than friends for a while. Tell me you’ve hated these past few weeks and I’ll stop. This is Real Love Baby. He never deserved you.” Having someone with you, constantly doting on you. Especially when it was so easy to talk to them since they were your best friend.
You gave in that night, and gave in again.
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moonieandi · 1 month
Text
snapshots pt. 3 | stanley pines x f!reader 
summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments on the couch
warnings (TW): mdni, contains mature/suggestive content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use
tags: mature/suggestive content (in act iii), fluff, early relationship described, pining, affection
notes: please note that there is heavily implied/suggestive/mature content in act iii of this posting (after the second break)- if you do not wish to interact with this type of content i swear to you you can completely skip it if you like, i attempt to not tie TOO much significance to the written scene- and if you would prefer that the postings stray away from this kind of content i will attempt to better balance it in the future! i am in no shape or form a very “smutty” writer (mainly bc i have never written it), so i hope the scene isnt like… terrible ya know lol (also i don’t consider it much for “smut”- i am def using said word very loosly). annnnyyywayyys hope you enjoy and as always my dms are open for suggestions in the future and general conversation and encouragement! enjoy!
also to note! I believe the story is best read in order- i put certain dependences on certain words and bring descriptions back to really solidify the importance of certain scenes/interactions ! but completely up to you, lol
edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked the up to date masterlist for this series- thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!
word count: 4.5k
| masterlist | part iv |
She had caught him sleeping on the couch in the early heat of June. 
They had a late night on the couch, discussing Ford’s margin notes and rewatching The Price is Wrong. Stan had a certain affinity for price matching, and she was more than a little stunned to learn of it the first couple of months they resided in the shack together. 
She just didn’t expect this 30-year-old man to know the price of most common household appliances. 
After his divulgence last month, in which he had confided a little bit of his background in sales, she began to piece together that although Stan considered himself a conman in every way but words, she considered it pure brilliance. 
So she quickly got used to late-night T.V. shows, as they discussed next steps back and forth, with Stan interrupting conversations to yell out extremely accurate prices at the small box T.V. in front of the couch. It had grown on her, actually, and had turned rather… endearing. 
If not also incredibly hilarious, as he was so passionate about his own accuracy he usually forgot his volume, and sometimes took to ranting at her. 
“Hun! Hun! This is a load of malarkey I tell ya! That vacuum price is way too high! It don’t even come with added nozzle attachments!” 
She would laugh, and he would revel in making her do so. 
They had concluded the night in a similar fashion, and she had stumbled up to her bedroom. The first one on the right from the stairs. But he had lingered in the living room, muttering about tidying up some soda cans and taking the trash out quickly. 
She had shrugged it off, giving her goodnight, and made her way up the stairs. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn’t heard the usual meandering steps of Stan as he made for his own room across the hall from her. 
She almost never woke up before him, another thing that surprised her. She figured he was the type to doze in and out in the early morning, but he seemed to be quick to rise and even quicker to make a pot of coffee, usually stumbling down the stairs thirty minutes before she could manage to roll out of bed. 
So she thought it odd to look down the stairs and not see the usual kitchen light on, and the usual grumble of the shitty coffee machine either. 
She found him snoring on his back, the throw blanket she had brought with her half on half off him. It had grown a little muggy in the shack, due to the distinct lack of central air, but Stan’s solution seemed to be very simple. 
Just wear less clothes. 
Something that wouldn’t disturb her in the slightest, if it were not for, well… Stan. 
She was a scientist, a usual logical thinker, and only slightly prude (due to her upbringing), but she was no idiot, and she knew the man she was cohabitating with was attractive. 
I mean, he was also funny- made her laugh more times than she could count. He was oddly sincere for his age and even more oddly protective. He was flippantly affectionate and even more flippantly kind to her. 
And he was also shirtless. 
Something she takes note of instantly, instinctually. Whipping her head to make for the kitchen, and trying to forget the curve of his broad shoulders and the slight swell of his stomach. The smattering of dark hair on his chest all the way down to the crisp edge of the boxers she had folded two days ago. 
Coffee, coffee coffee! 
She didn’t make as good of a cup as he did, she had never had to before. Something he scoffed at, but quickly took to doing himself. He made it every morning, now. Always up before her, with her mug waiting for her by her worn kitchen chair. 
She turned to the stove instead, moving pans and turning on the burner. She’d make breakfast for them instead of her shitty burnt coffee special. Pulling eggs and bacon out of the small fridge she went to work. 
The smell woke him up, and she noted his groggy fumbling to redress himself. Glancing out the archway from kitchen to living room she watched him pass to the stairs, still shirtless. He takes the stairs two at a time, back up to his room to retrieve new clothes she presumed. 
He returns in minutes, in typical fashion it took him not too long to get ready in the morning. 
He walks in, still stretching, with hair muddled from sleep. A pair of work jeans that had seen a lot of love in the past month, and a shirt that was quickly growing too tight around his arms and shoulders. She decided to ignore that sliver of stomach that peaked out when he raised his arms a little too high, otherwise, the bacon would burn. 
He made his way to the coffee machine, beginning the usual morning routine as it spurred to life. Moving to the sink he began washing their shared mugs. 
Breakfast was always a little quiet like they both couldn’t be bothered to open their mouths beyond sating their appetite. They still moved the same, instinctually and without words. Falling into their unassigned assigned seats, Stan moving to grab her feet and drag them across his lap, while she moved the salt and pepper between them both. She always reached across to his plate, grabbing his toast to butter first and then moving to her own. 
She had decided to interrupt their usual silence this morning, looking across to Stan as he fumbled with the morning paper. He always went straight to the comics in the morning, hoping to pick up on a joke to read to her that day, hoping to make her laugh first before anything else in the morning. 
But she had thrown a wrench in his usual plan (that she still hadn’t picked up on yet). 
“Why were you on the couch?” She asked, biting around her toast. 
“It’s cooler down here hun.” 
“I know heat rises Stan, but the sun rises on my side of the house in the morning. It ain’t that hot upstairs yet. Is there something wrong with your bed?” 
When first rearranging rooms he had resolved to take Stanford's old one. He didn’t want her to have to live in the shell his brother had left behind. His more intimate nick-nacks and sticky notes had been scattered around what is now Stan’s room. Along with his random mismatched socks and sweater vests, and his cologne. And he didn’t want to think about having her live around the last remnants of Stanford, because she got this weird look in her eyes already when she retraced his brother's writings and he couldn’t stand it. He had lived with Stanford for eighteen years, and sometimes entering the room was at least therapeutic. 
Except Stanford always had a weird affinity for sleeping on the ground. 
It’s the main reason Stanley even had the top bunk during their preteen years to begin with, because Stanford would find himself stiff on the floor most mornings. His brother had a tendency to doze away on any hard surface he could rest his head on, starting at his desk most nights, moving to his bed, but usually rolling off it in favor of the floor. Stanford was… not one for restful sleep. And his hard ass mattress showed it. 
“Ya.” Stan muttered behind the newspaper. “‘Ford trying to fuck my back up from another dimension.” 
“You can have my bed?” She offered up her own mattress, one she had splurged on with her own money. He still remembers her playing Goldilocks that day at the flash mattress sale she had circled in the classifieds the week before. 
He shook his head at the memory, them both laying side by side on each bed as she had discussed odds and ends. She had argued that she needed approximately 5 minutes on each mattress to sink into each, and that she couldn’t be intrinsically thinking about her comfort when doing so. So she had him lay beside her and talk to her, as she flipped from her back to her side testing out her comfort and considered the gravelness of his voice. Until she had landed on the right bed, the tenth one, declaring it her perfect match as she looked over at him beside her. 
“Nah, I can’t take your perfect match, hun, your one true love.” He joked, folding up the newspaper with the comics up, setting it aside in favor of looking at her. “Besides my bed is fine for now. I just… sometimes I like being close to the door.” 
She hummed. “I can rearrange the living room today? Do you want to move your bed downstairs?” She hadn’t even questioned it, still searching for something to sate his comfort. 
He laughed at this, he would never let her rearrange things without him and she knew it. He had hovered something harsh those first three months, moving around most things for her as she pointed from object to object. 
“No, no.” He shook his head. “I just, I ain’t used to sleeping in a room without a straight way out of it yet.” He admits, munching on his bacon, shrugging like he was discussing the weather. “So sometimes I just, sleep on the couch. No big deal.” 
She sits back in her seat, shock marring her face. He had spent so long hopping from place to place she had forgotten he hadn’t had a place to call home in a decade- besides his car. Something that may have four walls, but had no heart. 
Hotels, to cars, to floors of shelters, he had slept in questionable places for far too long, and in some cases Stanford’s room sometimes felt like a new prison, or at least reminded him of a certain Colombian one. Except this one contained taunting memories and a stupid amount of sweaters. 
It hurt more, to open his door to find hers closed, for some reason. He didn’t like the thought of her trapped either, nestled in a part of the house he couldn’t get to. But he didn’t know how to voice this to her without sounding mad in a way. Or obsessive maybe. 
She digs her toes into the junction of his ribs, grabbing his attention. She’s smiling across from him, and standing before he can ask why. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him up the stairs to their own parallel doors, not even hesitating to walk through the door Stanford used to call his own. 
She’s muttering under her breath as he stands in the doorway, landlocked by witnessing her in this exact space for some reason. She moves to the window, opening it all the way and fumbling with the screen. She gets it off and makes to climb out the window before he can protest. 
“If you want a way out, you got it right here!” She grunts, footing her way through to the shingled roof, his protests falling on deaf ears. 
“Get the fuck back in here!” He leans out, making to grab her. “Ain’t no way this shack's roof is any good!” 
She prances around, slightly mocking him by moving away from his waving arm. “Stan! It’s fine!” She laughs, the sun shining on her figure. Suddenly serious she stops, hands on her hips. “Seriously, if you need a way out, keep the window open, okay?” 
She crawls back through the window a moment later, using Stan’s hand as a weight as she balances back on the wooden floor. 
Still serious, she continues, “Stan if you need to keep the window open, you can keep the door open also if you feel like it.” 
She smiles like she has a brilliant idea, moving across the hall she opens her own room to display her own mess of things. “I can keep mine open also if it helps.” 
How the fuck had she read his mind? He was continually dumbfounded by her unquantifiable amounts of patience she had for him. Like it was a reserve she tapped into, to specifically deal with all his dumb bullshit. He would let it pile in the back of his head, but she’d reach back in and shake him awake, present him with a solution, and he forgets himself in his need to question “why?”. 
He had taken too long to respond, and she stands in the hall, hands wringing her too large t-shirt and looking surprisingly bashful. “Is this okay?” She asks, is this what you need? Vying for his approval as she continues. “Because really I don’t mind you sleeping on the couch, I really don’t, you can keep doing it if you like! Really! I just… I just…” 
Unspoken between them, he already knew. She meant well, she meant the best actually. She wanted him to be comfortable, here, with her. Wanted him to stop moving from place to place in the house because no where felt right because it all felt like a trap. Wanted him to know the four walls they shared could never be a prison, and that she didn’t want him to hop around anymore searching and clawing his way out of it. To not have to Goldilocks around the house, because across the hall from her had to be just right. 
And it was. Because she had read his mind as usual, and he was almost tired of being absolutely astounded by it. 
He nodded, smiling across from her, his confirmation in the squeeze he gave her hand as he reached for her again, and in the ruffling of her hair he gave her as he slipped from the house later. Making his way outside to his work, somehow lighter than usual.
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They ended up on the couch most weekends, or at least most Saturday nights. 
She had insisted, against his better nature, that it was not appropriate to drink yourself into a stupor on a weekday. So he had gotten used to the shared moments on the weekend, routinely looking forward to shitty VHS movies and even shittier boxed wine and beer. 
She laughed at fucking everything when she was drunk. He almost wondered if she had ever been high, or if she even needed to be. He might as well be a stand up comedian most weekends, because if he thought he had a great audience Monday through Friday, well he had an even more endearing one on the weekends. 
It was a hot July night, and she had scoffed at his light beer that resided in the back of the fridge. Tisking at him as she danced around the kitchen, pouring sweet red wine into mugs (their only cups), and shooing him back to the couch. Only wine in the summer, only wine when it was this hot.
And it was hot, and humid, unsurprising for Oregon really. So hot in fact, that she had decided pjs were appropriate attire for the night, luckily for him. So he shed his jeans in favor of loose boxers and a well worn shirt. Unluckily for him, she had decided upon much the same wardrobe, which was odd for her and only uncomfortable for sober him. 
But he wasn’t sober anymore, and he had to admit she was rather enchanting hunched over on the couch, laughing at his shitty jokes with one of his old band t-shirts on, shorts that she made no indication of even owning, bagging up around the tops of her thighs. 
He had been intoxicated on numerous amounts of things, nothing, of course, too hard or addictive per say, but it’d be the first time he was this drunk on wine. 
And it was… different. 
He had scoffed at the movie she chose originally tonight. She always chose the second movie, and he chose the first. They had a habit of in depth discussing during films, especially when more intoxicated. 
But he had never been so incredibly invested in a romantic comedy in his entire life, he blamed his company and the alcohol. 
“I can’t believe that he thinks he stands a chance with the likes of her! She’s sacrificed so much! Her jobs on the line here and he won’t even consider marrying her for a green card!” He yelled, just about jumping at the screen. This man in the movie was ridiculous, demanding things from his assistant and throwing her away the next. 
She ran back into the room, mugs full with their next round. She had become the bartender tonight, waiting on him and grabbing snacks when he’d ask in exchange for rubbing her aching shoulders. 
“What did I miss!” She rushed back, handing him his mug and taking her seat back in front of him on the floor, her throw blanket being used as a cushion. 
He takes a sip, setting the mug aside her own on the floor and moving back to place his hands on her tense shoulders. 
“She’s being kicked out of the country right in front of her boss and he ain’t gonna do anything about it! She basically does everything for this man, why doesn’t he see he needs her?” 
She groans below him, her head rocking back as she takes her own drink. “Are we gonna discuss the intricates of them having a relationship though? I love marriage of convenience, don’t get me wrong, but that’s her boss! Isn’t there a weird power dynamic here?” 
“Oh ya!” He agrees, nodding along as his fingers began to dig into her muscles. “We gotta talk about that because if this gets creepy we gotta pick out a different one. He’s already pissing me off!” 
She looks up at him, eyes glowing with an idea. Enchanted, she moves away from him, crawling to the cabinet beside the T.V., and he really swears that he tries to look away. But he also reasons that it’ll be a while before he gets the chance to see her in shorts again. And fuck. 
She turns back, a new VHS in hand. “This!” She exclaims. “Now this is my favorite rom-com!” 
A shitty picture is well worn on the front of the movie sleeve, a VHS he doesn’t recognize from the donation bin sitting in her hands. She must have brought it with her, and she must have had it for a while. 
She crawls forward, movie in hand and a bright, flushed smile on her face. 
“Please, please, please Stanley! This one!” She all but yelled as she leaned up into him. His legs had already been parted to accommodate her sitting in front of him, but now were warm with her torso between them, as she crawled into his lap, movie still in hand and smile still on her face. She leaned up onto his chest, a fake pout on her lips as she looked up at him. 
He forgot himself for a minute, excusing her silently for calling him Stanley in her drunken plee. His hand finding her waist as he answered. 
“Okay, okay!” He snorted. “Better be a better love interest because this guy sucks.” 
He missed her as soon as she left, but his heart still felt something sick when she yelled victoriously on the ground, hand raised in celebration, movie clutched to her chest. Rolling from her current position to the VHS player and popping out the current horrendous movie. All the while she giggled, and he followed in much the same manner. Laughing while running his hand through his hair, trying to soothe himself to forget her warmth. 
She crawled back to him (fuck) settling back into his knees from her position on the ground. The title screen flashed, but he was much too busy watching it illuminate her face. Heart sick again when she leaned her head all the way back, hair across his knees and thighs, she smiles up at him, a thank you on her lips. Clutching his mug in her hands, bringing it to her lips for a sip before passing it up to him too. 
And when he carried her to bed that night he wondered when the tight sickness would leave him. He never closed either of their doors. 
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It didn’t happen like this, that night. 
Not from what he could remember anyway, but he felt too groggy to care about accuracy and too intoxicated by the image of her to care much for what was right. 
Her hands had continued up his thighs from her place knelt in front of him, his back hot against the living room couch. She had climbed up on top of him, creeping up to sit on his knees and thighs like she had been there before. Her smile turned sweet into something twisted as she leaned in close to his face, the closest she had ever gotten to it. Whispering something between the heat between the two of them, something lost on him, as he tried to lean closer, tried to bridge the gap between their chests, aching to feel her against the very front of him. 
He knew it was different because she had never worn this in front of him before, at least willingly. He had caught her in the middle of the night, stumbling from her open bedroom door to the bathroom down the hall, panties striped and endearing on her ass. He had seen them in the washer, had seen her fold them and tuck them away. And she was in them, sitting on his fucking lap. 
His hands made for her, reaching behind her and dragging her close, his fingers edging the back of the band of her striped panties. 
She gasps like she does when she’s happy for him, always jumping from her position on the couch cheering along with him when he gets a stupid fucking The Price is Wrong answer right. 
And it’s how he imagined it, fuck, how he was currently dreaming of her noises. In bits and pieces he could remember, his brain scrambling to paint an image of her wanting him.  
Her hands edge along the back of his head, running through his long hair, and tracing to the front along his jaw. Mouth open, her fingers glide along the bottom of his lip, teasing. 
She whispers again, closer now. Her chest heaving against his own, her ass waits precariously positioned above right where he dreamt of her being. Right along the space he places her feet every morning, right where he thought she may kill him.
He catches it this time, between them. Her voice wavering like it had that day in the car when she had apologized for calling him him. He thought of begging for it, allowing her to say his name, but she had read his mind like she always fucking managed to do. 
“Please, Stanley.” 
He had surged forward like his own tidal wave, meeting her in the hot space between them. But he could only imagine a kiss with her, dream of it here. 
He imagined it slow, and building. Imagined her hesitation and the pout of her lip between his fucking teeth, imagined her moan when he eventually came back for more. 
Her hands pulled at his fucking hair, the only time she had placed them there to harm, and he groaned as she pulled him forward, meeting again in the middle of the heat they shared there on the couch. She moaned, her hips rushing to his own, making a new heat between them. 
The friction between them was the same as the kiss, slow and building. Grinding herself in the curve of his lap, right where they both needed each other. Every pass slightly faster, every groan from her more imagined, more unreal. 
The pressure felt real though, and her fingers in his hair felt even more so. His head thrown back on the couch, he looked down his nose at her, a groan leaving his throat as she makes a home in his shoulder, as her hips cause waves against his fucking lap. 
Her breath is hot on his neck, something real, and her echoing noises move up his shoulder to his ear and it makes him hotter than he could imagine. Her groans come to a precipice, getting higher in octave and volume and she thinks to fucking bite him there, right on his shoulder. 
The image she makes shakes him, his hands remembering where they are on her ass and hips, as he makes to work them harder, to somehow bring her closer and harder to the crook of his boxers. Her teeth nestle into him, and it makes him groan more, her hot breath and aching moans reverb off his skin back to him. 
It sends him reeling forward, his own head rushing off the back of the couch, groaning in heat, moving in blind passion. His head rests against the top of her own, his big hands digging into the fat of her behind, finger creeping in through the top of her panties. 
“Fuck.” He groans between them. “Fuck, honey.” His hips canting up, her moans echoing again, her teeth unlaching, like she can’t ground herself to him anymore, because all the movement is him now. He’s fucking using her, the pressure hot, and she peels back to look at him, a heat in her eyes he can’t have imagined. He must have seen it before, marring her face. He had, he swears, seen her with this heat in her eyes before.
He was using her. 
It stops just as abruptly as it began, and he wakes to his discomfort. His room is cool despite the morning sun, the curtains by his windows billowing out with September wind. His door wide open, and his hand curled around something that no longer needed relief. 
His other hand, clutching his hair in a fist. The back of his head tender from the pressure, and his fingers heavy from sleep. 
He got up quicker than usual, his heart still pounding oddly in his chest as he attempted to catch a breath he didn’t remember losing. On his way out of his room, dresssed for the day, he peaks into her parallel room, her door wide open like it was every day now. 
He groans low, she’s wearing the fucking stripes. 
He tries not to think about it the rest of the day, tries not to be disgusted with himself, but his chest aches something odd and his stride is somehow uneven for the rest of the day. His heart carries something sickly when he sees her that day, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt he’s oddly quiet that day, or that he doesn’t read her the morning comics like usual. 
She thinks it has something to do with how flushed he is, when she catches his staring that evening, as they sit beside each other on the couch, T.V. echoing in the background.
466 notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 4 months
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Backwards Cap
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charles leclerc x female reader
summary: you now have a favourite way for your bf to wear his baseball caps
warnings: none just fluffy goodness, maybe slightly suggestive
a/n: i’m shit at updating i know, but enjoy LOL this just came to me
Imola was always one of your favourite grand prix’s to attend with Charles, the atmosphere, the weather, the tifosi: everything was better in Italy. It had been an overall good day, your boyfriend finishing P3 behind Lando Norris, and despite the podium, you knew he wouldn’t be satisfied but you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look as handsome as ever up there.
When the podium celebrations were over you headed to the spot just outside of the Ferrari hospitality to wait for Charles, in yours arms a sleeping Leo who you’d collected from the air conditioned motorhome just minutes ago.
“Bébé!”
At the sound of his voice you turned and smiled only for your breath to get caught in your throat as he came towards you. His staple Ferrari hat on backwards his hair tucked neatly underneath it
“Hello…?”
You blinked rapidly before blushing
“Sorry…I-um it’s just”
Charles laughed taking Leo from you to kiss his little soft head gently as he watched you almost malfunction in a way
“Mon amour, what is going on? Heatstroke?”
You shook your head at his teasing
“Your hat is on backwards…”
He frowned going to fix it
“NO-I mean no keep it please…”
Charles looked at you with a slightly wide eyes from your frantic pausing of his action
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Please wear your hats backwards all the time baby”
He couldn’t help but smirk seeing you all flustered over a baseball hat
“Yeah you like it bébé?”
“Love it.”
The Monégasque driver was quick to lean down and press a firm kiss to your lips before pulling you in close
“Who knew a little ball cap would be the cause of this huh?”
Blushing you smacked his chest gently, Leo awake and trying to lick Charles’s face off as he usually did with the two of you
“It’s not my fault you look delicious in a backwards hat…”
“Delicious huh?” He winked pinching your side as you just shook your head
“I’m going to stop talking now before I get myself into trouble”
“No no no amour…come on tell me more…”
Laughing you grabbed Leo and strutted off in front of him towards his Ferrari, knowing on the 5 hour drive back to Monaco he’d be teasing you and searching for more compliments.
I mean you were just a girl after all…a girl who loved a backwards hat on her man.
959 notes · View notes
daydreams-after-dark · 5 months
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Sub Reader x Bratty Han (plus Doms Lino, Chan and features ot8). Established poly ot8 relationship.
Synopsis: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both when they get home.
Word count: 2.9k approx.
Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡
CW below the cut.
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⚠️⚠️⚠️Warnings: NSFW // 18+ content // MDNI // coercion //dom chan and lino // sub reader // oral sex (f and m rec.) // creampies // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // butt plugs // spanking with a belt // restraints // sex in front of a group // everyone cums all over reader // name calling // disrespecting reader (but it’s consensual punishment) // let me know if I’ve missed anything.
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Han. The fucking brat. He loves to rile up the doms and soft doms, pushing their buttons, making them snap. He likes to coerce the subs into messy situations in the hopes of getting into trouble off the doms Chan and Lino.
Han loves to get you into trouble, and for some reason you can’t resist his bratty, suggestive energy. He makes you lose the fear of consequences, or maybe it’s that he makes you forget about consequences entirely? Until, of course you are being thrown face down on the bed, your panties pulled down around your thighs as you get spanked by Chan while Lino fucks your face (although you love that kind of punishment).
You think every idea Han has is a good one. There’s just something about him that makes you want to please him. You want to please him as much as you need to please Chan and Lino. You’d honestly let him do anything he wants to you.
That’s how you ended up here. On the couch in the living room.
“Come on baby.” He whispers, kissing your neck. Your shirt is already off and he’s cupping your breast, under your bra, with one hand, and is three fingers deep inside your cunt.
He knows you are pliable right now. You’ll agree to anything. “Let me taste your sweet pussy.” He thrusts his fingers in hard making you squeal. “So fucking wet. I know you want more than just my fingers, right?”
You shake your head. “Sungie, no. We don’t have permission. What if they find out?” you say timidly.
“No one’s gonna know. Just think about how it’s gonna feel with my hot… wet…mouth,” he kisses you sloppily. “Against your…aching…dripping…pussy?” He breaks away only to lean his forehead against yours. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” he asks with a serious tone. You nod. You are. “So… can I?” he pushes.
“Yes.” You whisper. He is right. Your cunt really was aching for him. His fingers had almost taken you over the edge, but you know his skilled and quick mouth will have you seeing stars in no time.
“You’re my favourite, you know that, right? Always up for anything. Such a good girl.” He says as he makes his way down between your legs. “Spread them wider for me. Let me take a good look at you.” He pushes your legs open and bites his lip hungrily as he inspects your most intimate parts.
“Such a pretty, tight, little hole.” He watches your pussy clench around nothing as he removes his digits. He spreads your lips apart and licks a stripe up from your vagina to your clit. You cry out. Why does it always feel so good? You throw your head back and squeeze you eyes closed as Han laps up all of your arousal that’s dripping from you. Your back arches off the couch when he slips his tongue into your cunt.
“Fuck, Ji!” you cry. “I’m so close.”
And then you hear it. Your phone ringing. You know the ringtone. Han knows the ringtone. Lino is calling.
“Answer it, baby. You don’t want to get in trouble for missing a call from the boss.” Han pauses his movements.
“I… I can’t-”
“Answer it.” Han repeats himself.
And of course you do as he says.
With a shaky hand and a fuzzy brain, you answer the call. “H-hello?” you say softly.
“What the fuck took you so long, kitten?” Lino is angry. Fuck. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just…ahhhh.” You feel Han’s mouth latch onto your clit.
“You were just what? What is so important that it took you more than three rings for to answer the phone?” Lino growls.
You can barely find the words you need. Han is bringing you so close to climax that you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your chest, and you know your heavy breathing must sound suspicious. You try with everything you have to ignore Han and to focus on Lino.
“I was just….working out… yes…running.” You manage.
And then you feel Han’s fingers in your pussy again, pumping in and out of you whilst he slurps loudly against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds becoming so loud that it threatens to give you away.
“Kitten?” Lino’s voice tries to cut through the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that has taken over your body. It is so hard to concentrate on Lino. Han is too intoxicating. Han feels too good. Han is your whole world. Han is the only person that matters. Han making you come is the only thing you need right now. You would surely die without it.
“Hannie-” you choke and the tension inside you snaps, sending pulsating pleasure through your veins and your legs shaking around Han’s head.
“You have to be fucking joking.” Lino does not sound happy. “Chan and I will be home in one hour. You and Han better be ready. You are going to be so fucking sorry.” And with that Lino is gone.
You lean up on your elbows and look down at the man that just took you to the stars. He is already looking up you with the most smug look on his face. You can’t tell if he is feeling pleased with himself because he convinced you (yet again) to let him have unauthorised access to your body, or that he has managed to get the you two caught?
It is a rather odd dynamic, between you and Han. Han is a bratty little shit, but he is not the boss. Not by a long shot. He just loves stirring up trouble and making life challenging for Chan and Lino. Han thinks it’s fucking hilarious to get himself, and any of the other subs, into trouble. Why? Because punishment is always fun. What he finds the most fun of all is the bemused expressions on Chan and Lino’s face when, as always, you have gone along with some devious idea of his.
You don’t even know why you always go along with whatever Han wants. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.
Even when it leads to this situation right now.
One hour later you and Han sitting side by side on the end of the bed, awaiting punishment.
The bedroom door bursts open and Chan and Lino enter the room - followed by the rest of the members. This was different. Punishment had never involved an audience before.
It makes you wet, and you were sure it is making Han hard.
They look pissed. Lino speaks first. “Everyone take a seat, stand against the wall. Make yourself comfortable.”
Seungmin and Changbin stand against the wall, and Felix, Innie and Hyunjin take places on the bed behind you.
Chan disappears out of the room momentarily, returning with two dining chairs and placing them in front of you and Han. Chan sits himself down on one and Lino drags the other a little further away to the right side of the room.
“Han,” starts Chan, “strip, then sit on that chair.” He nods to the empty dining chair.
Han immediately removes his clothes and takes a seat as instructed. You are right, he is hard. You hear Seungmin snicker to your left. How fucking humiliating.
“Everyone listen up.” Chan addresses the room. “Lino and I have called you all in here today because there are some of you who do not know how to follow rules.” Silence and anticipation fills the room and you start to become nervous.
“Han, in particular, doesn’t think he needs permission to play with our kitten here.” Lino says as he stands in front of you, grasping your chin forcing it so you’re looking into his dark, angry eyes. “Take off your top and bra and go lay over Chan’s lap so you can receive your punishment.”
You do as he says, nervously removing your garments and walking to were Chan sits.
“Lay over me, ass away from Han.” He pulls you over his lap and slaps your ass. Your head dangles by his shoe and you can’t see any of the men in the room. Chan pulls your shorts and panties down exposing your bare pussy and ass to everyone and pulls your cheeks apart. “Look at that boys… Han thinks this is his.” He snarls and roughly prods your pussy with his fingers. You gasp. You are so vulnerable, and so turned on. “Lino, come look at her pretty little holes.”
Lino kneels down next you, and the pair start finger fucking you at the same time. They plunge two fingers each into your cunt, stretching you, opening you up, showing everyone how much of a little whore you are. You begin to moan with pleasure, which apparently is against the rules. “Felix. Come pull the rest of her clothes off.” Chan instructs. “That’s it, Felix. Now shove her panties in her mouth to shut her up.”
Felix comes around and stuffs your mouth with your panties to muffle your whimpers, and then he’s gone again.
From where Han sits, all he can see is all the other men’s reactions to what is happening to you. He is turned on as fuck, but also jealous. He wants to see what was happening to your pussy. He can hear it though. The sopping, sloppy noises of your wetness. His dick is leaking. He knows there’s a good chance he’s going to come untouched. His hand automatically grips his cock.
"Hey, he’s touching his dick!” Innie exclaims, pointing to Han.
“Hyunjin, tie him up.” Chan growls. “This is meant to be a punishment.”
Hyunjin swiftly ties Han’s hands together and someone decides it’s a good idea to tie yours together too. “Let’s tie here’s behind her back.”
All you can do is lay there and take whatever punishment you are given.
“Everyone. This is what’s gonna happen.” Lino addresses the waiting men. “Our little darling here is going to choke on Chan’s cock, while I fuck her greedy little cunt. Your job, boys, is to jerk off while you watch. When you need to cum, you will come up, ask for permission, and choose where you want to cum on her.”
Seungmin, another dom, pipes up. “Hey why do I need to ask permission? And I don’t want to cum on her - I wanna cum in her.”
Lino rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget who's in charge here! But yeah, anyone can cum anywhere on or in her. Except Han. He’s not allowed to cum at all.”
Your pussy clenches at the thought of having everyone’s cum all over you.
“Everyone, get your cocks out.” You hear zippers and belt buckles as they free their dicks. Chan and Lino continue to finger your pussy. They jiggle your ass cheeks, make noises of approval at how wet you are. You feel Lino spit on your asshole and spread it around the rim, then plunge a finger deep into your hole. You tense and clench, making the pair chuckle to themselves. “Innie, give me the butt plug.” You brace yourself as Lino presses the rather large plug into your ass. He is careful as he presses it in. He doesn't actually want to hurt you. In fact, everyone knows everyone else's limits, hard no's, safe words and gestures. Even though you're tied up and your mouth is stuffed with panties, everyone knows if you shake your head rapidly, that means you want to stop.
“Pass me your belt, Changbin.” Says Lino standing up, leaving your hole clenching around the plug.
“We must set an example, mustn’t we Chan?” And without warning you feel the belt hit your ass cheek. You can’t cry out, or grab hold of anything. Chan holds you still. The belt comes down again. A little harder. Your skin stings. Again. Tears well up in your eyes. Another smack with the belt. You squeeze your eyes tight and the tears slip out. The next hit with the belt is on your pussy. It’s not as hard, but the sting is harsh. You hear gasps from some of the onlookers.
“Ummm,” you hear a timid voice next to you. “Can I please cum?” Felix.
“Already?” Chuckles Chan. “Sure. Where you going to put it?”
“The base of her spine please.” Always so polite. The spanking pauses, and you feel ropes of hot cum land on your lower back and hear the sweet noises Felix makes when he cums.
“Good boy.” Lino says proudly. “You did so good.” Chan concurs. “You may leave if you want. Or stay and watch. What do you want to do?”
Felix hesitates. “I’d like to stay and watch.” He says quietly.
“That’s our boy.” Seungmin claps his hands.
You are repositioned so that you are kneeling on the carpet in front of Chan. He lifts up slightly so he can shimmy his sweatpants down, freeing his enormous cock. Chan has the biggest cock out of everyone, and you know you are about to gag and choke very soon. He removes the panties that were in your mouth and fists a handful of hair on the back of your head and shoves your mouth down over his cock without care, forcing you take as much as possible. Then he pushes you down even more. You splutter, gag, and make a whole host of humiliating sounds as Chan pulls your mouth up and down on his cock, hard, fast and rough. You can get out of his grasp if you really want to. But you don't. You love this.
Meanwhile, Lino positions himself behind you, lifting you up enough to push his cock into your sopping cunt. The fullness feels incredible. Lino fucks you rough from the get go, leaving you no time to adjust. With your hands tied behind your back you are 'helpless'. And it’s driving you, and the men wild.
One by one, they come up seeking permission to cum on you.
You’re pulled up off Chan’s cock so Binnie can cum on your tits. You sneak a glance at Han to who looks so fucked out, his dick red and angry. Fuck you want to relieve him of that.
Innie wants to cum in your mouth. “Swallow it, kitten.” Lino instructs. You swallow it all and then continue to suck Chan off. Hyunjin wants to cum on your stomach, so again you’re lifted upright so he can mark you. Felix comes back again, this time wanting to cum in your mouth.
Finally Seungmin is ready to give you his load. “I’m going to cum in her cunt.” He announces. Lino grumbles and pulls out of you, and you feel Seungmin at your entrance. He thrusts into you hard making you gag on Chan’s cock. He digs his fingers into the side of your body and snaps his hips three times and you feel him release himself deep inside you.
“I’m not sticking my cock back in there after you. I don’t wanna feel your jizz on my dick.” Lino sounds irritated. Seungmin laughs and leaves the room.
“You’ll have to fuck her ass then, mate.” Chan says between clenched teeth. He was close to cumming.
“Hmm, you’re right.” Lino pulls the plug from your ass and pushes his thick cock into you, grasping your neck for both leverage and to feel you choking around Chan’s cock. Your pathetic cry is too much for Chan and he cums down your throat. “Swallow it.” Lino says from behind you, pounding his cock into your ass with an unimaginable force. You swallow and open your mouth, showing Chan your empty mouth.
You can feel Seungmin’s cum dribbling down your inner thigh, Felix’s cum dried on your back, and your breast and stomach are sticky. You are a mess as Lino fucks into you, holding you up by your tied arms. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth close to your ear. “Look at him,” Lino hisses, referring to Han. “I don’t know why the fuck you let him get you into this mess. Maybe you forgot who owns your pussy, hmm? Maybe you forgot I own your ass.” He growls. He reaches a hand down to your clit. “Now cum for me.” He demands.
You’re close but you can’t quite get there. You look at Han again. His cock. Yes, you love that cock so much. Closer. His trim waist and defined torso. Yes, you love to have your legs wrapped around it. Almost there. You look up to his face. His eyes. They are locked on yours. Encouraging you to cum. Fuck!!!! You clench around Lino’s cock and he pumps into you a few more times before you feel him paint your walls.
Lino pulls out and plugs you back up. “I own your ass. Don’t forget it.” He says and stands up. He and Chan pull their pants back on. You look around the room. It’s only now you realise that the rest of the men have left.
You see that Han has cum untouched, cum plastered on his abdomen, but he is still hard as stone. Chan unties him. “Now you clean her up - with your mouth… and then fuck Seungmin and Lino’s cum back into her holes.”
You and Han are alone again. He’s at your side untying you, immediately licking the cum off your tits, then kisses you. “That was so worth getting you into trouble.” He smirks and picks you up to lay you on the bed.
He hovers over you and gazes at you tenderly. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” He whispers.
You nod.
“Then… will you let me?”
“Let you what? They’ve given you permission to fuck me.” You say.
He shakes his head. “Will you let me make love to you? Slowly?”
Typical, bratty Han, still not wanting to follow instructions.
You nod. “Yes.”
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A/N: I kinda wanted to end this on a sweet note, and make Hannie still unable to follow rules, like if he’s told to fuck her, then he wants to go slow and tender. But… he is a sneaky little shit getting her into so much trouble.
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@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @wolfennracha @3rachasdomesticbanana
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reidmania · 2 months
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I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!
summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.
warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think
an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!
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You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry
The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.
How long could you avoid that?
It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.
It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.
You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.
So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?
Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.
You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.
They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.
The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.
How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.
You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.
“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.
You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.
“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.
He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.
“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole. 
You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.
The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.
“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.
“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.
Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.
“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.
Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.
“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.
“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.
“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.
There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.
But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.
You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.
There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.
“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.
“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.
“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“
He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.
“Why?”
“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.
“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.
“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.
“Okay.” You exhaled out.
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