#like hearing one’s own voice played back

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: 18+ daddy kink, sexual content, phone sex

"Whit do ye think, LT?"

Simon vaguely hears Johnny's voice. It's somewhere in the background, something he's not dialed into right at this moment, since they're not in an active situation.

For now.

Instead, they're all holed up in safe house with shitty mattresses, shitty couches, and thin walls crowded inside a concrete box. Simon's on his back, on the couch, flicking through his camera roll, picture after picture of you and the baby filling the screen. There are new ones, ones you've sent over the last three weeks, and when he fires off a text to let you know his phone is on for a little bit, you send a video back almost immediately.

"That the wee one?" Johnny says from over his shoulder, and Simon nods, clicking play.

"Okay Ry, let's show daddy," Orion's on his tummy in the living room, holding his head up, staring at you behind the phone. He's giggling a little, smiling, wriggling around, and you place one of his toys just out of his reach, to the left. "You can do it bub, come on. Daddy wants to see." There's more encouragement, Orion rocking back and forth on his belly and kicking his feet-

before rolling over completely onto his back.

"Good job bub! What a strong boy." You pull him into your arms, his back to your chest, legs up over yours, and turn the phone so the video shows both of you. "So, that's a thing." You smile, and kiss his head. "Think we'll have a crawler on our hands soon." Something sad flickers in your gaze and you chase it away. "Anyway, we uh... we miss you. Call tonight?" A knot forms in his throat, and he practically leaps off the couch, making for the back door. Johnny calls after him, but he pays it no mind.

>Can you take a call now?

>You just missed him, I'm so sorry. He's asleep :(

>That's okay. I want to talk to you.

>Okay, sure.

"Hello?" You're not quite whispering, but your voice is still soft, careful, and he closes his eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey. How are you?"

"Fine. Can't believe he's rolling over." You stifle a small laugh.

"I know. He's going to be crawling soon, I can feel it. Keeps trying to push himself up with his arms and scoot his legs forward. It's cute. He looks like a seal." You sigh, and he gets lost in it, honey sweet spiderweb trapping him in the middle, tangling him up for the feast, your fangs already deeply embedded in his flesh.

That's what you are. Something under his skin. Something possessing him down to the marrow. A man who only takes orders from one other-

willing to say 'how high' if you would only say 'jump'.

He hears his promise every day, every night, ringing in his ears.

Johnny thinks he's flipped a switch somewhere. Gaz says he's more bloodthirsty than he's ever seen.

John just smiles at him, a knowing look in his eye, a mutual understanding.

He's going home, no matter what. If he has to kill every single soul he comes across, that's what happens.

He made a promise.

"Hope he waits." He tries to control the rough scrape of his voice, but it's still there.

"I'm sure he will." You're gentle in your reassurance, kind. His kitten.

"How's he doin' otherwise?"

"Good. Fussing has calmed down a bit, thank god, but I think he misses daddy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you pause, small intake of breath, a barely there gasp. "I miss him too." He takes a cursory look around, and then drops the tone of his voice.

"Y'miss daddy, sweet girl?" The two of you have been dancing around this, for the last week. Since landing at the safe house, he's been able to call almost every night, sometimes he catches Orion when he's up and sometimes he only catches you, and recently, you've been engaging him with sexually charged late night conversations that make him jerk his cock behind a locked door somewhere, and come into his own hand.

Feels like a waste. He wonders if you'd let him get you pregnant again.

He doesn't even know if you can have sex right now, to be honest. He knows you tore, badly. Knows you had stitches. Knows you're probably still nursing the wounds, physically and mentally.

That's okay. He'll wait. He'll wait as long as he needs to. For this. For you.

He doesn't know where the change came from either, but he's not complaining. Or questioning. He's indulging and dreaming and telling you to reach into your pajama pants to touch yourself for him while he's tossing off on the other end of the line.

If he had to guess, he'd say the distance has given you some sort of courage, some sort of emboldenment to feel it out, gain comfortability.

The killing makes him extra rank, fills him with ardor for you, for his life now. He's always felt purpose, devotion, to his job, the 141, but now, there's a higher altar to lay himself at, a higher calling.

Getting a ring on your finger, for one.

"Are you in bed mama?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Gonna play with your pussy for me?"

"Oh god." You groan, but it's breathy, wild on the other end of the line, a whole world away.

"Tell daddy what you're doing, honey." He's rock hard, so much it aches, but he's not going to fulfill the burning need right now. He wants to be focused on you. "Are you touching yourself?"

"Y-yes."

"Does it feel nice?" You whine. "Rubbing your pretty little clit f'me, making it feel good?”

"Oh my god- yeah."

"Daddy's so proud of you, sweetheart. Taking such good care of Orion. Taking good care of yourself, making yourself cum since he can't be there to do it for you." You moan, unintelligible, nectarous melody on the wind. "I wish I was there. I think about the night we made our baby all the time, how you looked spread out on your bed, taking all my cum like a good girl."

"Oh, oh-"

"Took my cock so pretty, mama. Did so good, fit me like a glove." You're panting, tiny, bright whines slipping free, and he knows you're close. "Don't stop. Let me hear you." He orders, slipping a palm over the swollen mass of his cock.

"Fuck, daddy-"

"Keep going honey, come on." He can nearly hear your teeth grinding.

"I'm cumming, oh- daddy, I'm, I'm-" There's a shuffle, a high pitched gasp, and then you go silent, breathing heavily into the phone.

"Good job, mama."

He's sour by the end of week four. Muscles tight from the agony of being away, awful visions, nightmares, rotting the frontside of his brain when he closes his eyes.

The balaclava is heavy with blood now, everyday. Red stains white, fetid and curdled, trying to strain through his teeth.

They've moved from the safe house. The phone calls are only a dream. He turns his phone on for five minutes every other day, desperate to download the photos you're sending, only to get one out of the ten. Can't text you back.

At night, he stands outside with his chin tilted up, orientating himself with the skies, searching for Orion in the cosmic chaos. It takes time, too long, but eventually he spots it, south west in the sky, glittering alongside the moon. His stars. His moon.

John tries to temper him. "You'll have to get better at this, if you're planning to stay, Simon. It won't get easier, but you can ease the ache."

It's never been a question about staying, he's served the 141 for far too long to give it up now. The want is incredibly selfish, but he doesn't consider himself the other kind of man, the one who would take a desk job or sacrifice his duty. His life's work, essentially.

He's not a good man. But he's yours. He won't have it any other way.

Kyle's got a girl at home now, he tells Simon. Maybe we should introduce them, ya know LT? Give em someone to lean on, when we're gone. A brilliant idea, if he's ever heard one. Though he's not surprised. Gaz is the top of his class in everything.

He and Johnny speed run through the last part of the op, raining hell down upon everyone in his path, and he finally sees that crazy glint in Soap's eyes, the one that's been missing this entire time.

"Was fun, LT." He slurs the night before exfil, glass of whiskey lax in his hand. "Almost sad to be goin' home."

Not too long ago, he might agree. But now that he's staring down the barrel of five and a half too long weeks, he can't wait for it to be over.

>Hey

>Hey omg, I've been worried.

>All's good. On our way to base now. Gonna shower here, change. Alright if I come over after?

>Yes.

He’s a livewire stepping off the bird. Three paces behind Gaz, he’s trying to type out a text to you, hardly paying attention, spreading his stride to close the gap between him and the showers.

“Hey darling.” Gaz is wrapping someone up in his arms, pretty little thing with dimples, Simon barely glances up-

And then nearly trips over his boots, tongue tied to see you standing behind Kyle’s new girl, sundress swinging at your thighs, Orion babbling away on your hip.

His bag drops.

He sprints.

“Ah!” You shriek as he tugs you into him, lifting you and the baby with an arm under the plush of your ass. “Simon, oh my god-“ you curl forward, free hand gripping his shoulder, and he presses his mouth to yours.

“Missed you mama.” Your top teeth bite into your bottom lip, bashful and sweet. “You too, bub.” You kiss him again, longer this time, ignoring the whooping from Johnny in the background.

“Welcome home.”

[undercoverpena]

don't move, honey

joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel doesn't want you to move or touch until he comes back to bed.

wordcount: 1.9k warnings: smut. smut. smut. no outbreak. there's a vibrator and then joel's cock. established relationship. he's happy, and you're very happy. an: dedicated to the one, the only @thetriumphantpanda who i have spent all day with, and promise to always dedicate joel too.

He’s already been called for once.

A high-pitched squeal of Dad coming from behind his door, a reminder that you said you’d drop me off following. Yet, as you giggle at Sarah's stomp off, Joel’s face remains buried in your neck, covering your ear with his palm as he bellows that he’ll be a minute.

It’s a white lie. One you know well from the way he’s been sliding his hand across your hip that he hopes for more than a minute, or even five. A thing he’d have if he took her to her party that turns into a sleepover.

“You know, if you—”

“I know, I know.”

Gruffly painting it against your neck in heavy, annoyed exhales as you smile, as your hand comes around to play with the hair atop his head.

“She’ll burst through the door in a moment.”

Grunting, vibrating it across your skin, he drags his palm along your lower stomach. Thick finger, by thick finger falling from your skin till he pings the t-shirt you’ve chosen to sleep with back into place.

Another knock sounds, and you smile against his lips, saying “told you” at the same time as the voice on the other side calls “Dad?”

He snorts, the side of his body flush to yours as he takes one more kiss, fingers either side of your jaw as he presses another, and then another, before shouting “I’m comin’” to the door.

“Don’t move, honey. Please.”

He whispers it. It leaves the back of his throat all gravelly, almost desperately. His hips flush with yours as he leaves messy kisses along your lips, down your neck, and along your collarbone, before dragging himself up. It’s begrudging, the way he pulls on jeans over his thighs, pinning you with a stare.

“Jus’ stay right there—I’ll be thirty, forty minutes. Drop her off and then we can…”

Smirking, stretching in his sheets, your movements force the tee you’ve slept in to stretch out over your breasts, making his eyes drop to your hardened peaks. And you watch him shake his head, cursing under his breath—all *Jesus fuckin’ Christ—*before it’s punctured with the sound of his zip and then a button.

“Don’t touch either while I’m gone.”

Smiling, falling onto your side, knee bent as he throws on a somewhat clean t-shirt.

“I won’t. I’ll be good.”

He snorts at that, hand running through his hair to mess it up—hand wiping his chin as he takes another look at you. “Y’don’t know how to be good—it’s how I end up late.”

“Think that’s shit out of luck planning, Miller.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, hand wrapped around the door handle. “Don’t touch.”

But you want to.

It’s all you can think about when you hear the door slam behind the two of them and his truck roar to life.

The neediness rises, knowing there’s a patch already forming on your underwear, likely having already ruined the gusset of your panties as thirty stretches to forty to fifty.

And your resolve almost snaps. Pleasure threatens to ripple when you brush your thighs together, close to snaking your fingers under the cotton band, wishing to stroke circles against your clit and be cascaded in a wave of your own making.

You give him another minute, consider two.

Toying with the idea, tempted to see if you can place his pillow between your thighs. See if it’ll give you enough friction, enough of a release. Fingers flirting with the end of it when it echoes through the house—

The front door opening and then slamming.

You bite back a giggle, a laugh. Thrill blooming through you, excitement, all-electric, finding him wrestling with his top as he bursts back through his bedroom door.

He must know you’ve been good, that you’ve done as he’s asked because he kisses you so hungrily once he’s kneeling on either side of your frame. His mouth is desperate in its attempts to take your breath away as the scent of him smothers you, becoming all you can smell.

“Missed you.”

He hums as your fingers clutch at his cheeks, hips trying to roll against him as the presence of him only makes you wetter. A thing which worsens when you hear the sound of his bedside table drawer opening, it rolling on its rails as you whimper, letting it find purpose against his lips.

Fingers tugging on his curls, you swallow his groan as you snake your fingers into his hair and scrape your nails against his scalp. Feeling nothing but confident, cocky—all set to ask him when he’s gonna fill you up, but a gasp is forced from you instead.

It smothers his mouth. Leaves your throat and finds a home in his. Aware of him smirking as you arch into him in surprise—barely recognising it before it’s intensely pressing on you.

He’s begun on low, the vibration. But he’s pressed against your cloth-covered mound with skill. Vibrations ripple out, teasing, as his fingers roll the head of it over your swollen nerves and drenched folds—no aim in sight, just teasing, taunting.

“Was thinkin’ of you the entire ride,” he murmurs, and you can only moan, vision spotting already. “Imagined I’d come back and find you fuckin’ yourself with this.”

Shaking your head, your mouth hangs open. Chest heaving. Little shallow breaths escaping as he drags the head of the toy up and down—

“Thought you’d be writhing, soaking it—gushin’ around it. Making noises that fill the house. Fuckin’ love it when you’re messy. Y’know that?”

And somehow, with a thick tongue and a shaky mind, you tell him that you’ve been good—good for him, all for him. Tongue lazily licking the words into his mouth. Feeling him peeling your panties from your slick-covered pussy, before gliding the silicone through your pleasure, coating it—dragging it up and down.

It’s then there’s a click, the vibrations intensifying.

A depraved, knotty moan escaping from your throat, so low, so loud, it forces a laugh to rumble through his chest at the way you grasp for him—the way you draw-out his name. Arching, head falling back as your neck unveils to him, as he shifts closer to smother you, continuing his assault as he moves the toy between your spread thighs—

Pressing it, rolling it in circles against your swollen clit.

And you’re burning. A mere passenger. Nothing but heaving and desperately pleading, before feeling two of his thick fingers slide into you, curl, press against that spot that makes your thighs tremble. That makes heat turn into fire and lick through your insides as you rock. As you leverage both your feet for balance and thrust into his touch.

Close, close, close—

And it’s not a command or even an ask, Joel just asks if he can have it. You, your pleasure, this. So you give it to him, willingly. Crying out as the pressure builds, becoming overwhelming as you shake and dangle, before it cracks. Eyes clenching shut, sinful noises falling from your tongue as you come hard around his fingers, shaking, trembling.

Aware, distantly, of the vibration still pressing against you, of his voice cooing you back, before you the familiarity of his knee against yours, as he keeps you spread. Your eyes open in time to see him throw the toy down the bed and kneeling to undo his jeans—

“Y’so good for me, did so good.”

You’re aware you’re nodding. Dumbly, numbly. All tingly from head to fucking toe as you feel him slide your underwear down your legs. Lifting on shaky elbows to admire him with his hard, leaking cock in hand as he stares at the mess he’s made of you. The one between your legs before dragging his eyes up to your face before he smiles, smirks, gleams.

“Wanna make you say my name like that again.”

And it is sheepish, shy, lazy, the way you smile, sliding your legs over his upper thighs as he nears, as he shuffles closer until your lower body is elevated and you can feel the movements of his hand up and down his cock before he’s brushing the head through your folds.

Up, down; up, down—

“Joel—”

“I know, honey. I know.”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, tapping, before snaking it to his shoulder. Knowing, digging your nails in as he inches himself in, bottoming out as you stretch, his name shuddering from your throat as he takes a sharp breath in.

“Fuck—”

Fluttering around him, sensitive and yet shameless in your want for him.

He who is all hard, thick, long—mouth sealing to yours as your open mouth turns into kiss, clutching him, all bare, warm and yours as he fucks into you, deep, palm and fingers gripping your side, your hip.

“—Feel so perfect ‘round me…”,

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

He repeats it like a mantra; like it’s a thing he wishes to remind you of as he builds to a brutal pace. Little hisses escaping through gritted teeth, the sound of his hips snapping to yours—and the wetness between your thighs messily coating the coarse hair at the base of him, making him sticky, messy—

And you’re so full. Already ready to crash again, broken sobs writing a poem in the air as it builds and builds. Because the head of his cock is hitting that spot all over again, making your thighs tremble. Only finding yourself able to whine, moan, tangling fingers in his sheets as you feel his palms under your back, lifting, bringing you closer before it latches to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

Somehow, from this angle, he’s deeper. His mouth trailing unspoken words to your skin as you stare down at the place the two of you meet; seeing how he glistens before he vanishes back into you. Tightening around him at the sight, clenching—

Fuck, fuck, Joel, fuck—

And your breath hitches before you’re convulsing—everything blurring*.*

White noise ringing out, vision blackened as you swear you leave your body. Hovering somewhere above it before you become aware of the air being tinged with the sounds of you both crying out—how it’s stained in sweat, in pleasure. How he hisses before he grunts, cock twitching inside of you as his hips lose their rhythm.

He pants, before he collapses on you, your legs nothing but limp as his forearms cage you in.

Three words burn on your tongue as you press your mouth to one bicep, writing it there, leaving it against his skin before your lips are dragged to his. Wet, hot kisses that you give and take willingly as he rocks gently, fucking his come deeper into you as you feel him slowly soften.

And then you smile, lazier than before. Your chest slows in its rise and fall as you feel his heartbeat hammer against yours, hearing him whisper perfect as you grin against his mouth.

an: it's getting hot in here, so....

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Jenni's Version): Future II

Grace Clinton x Reader

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Your children meet Alexia

"Mama!" Jaume complains," Leave my hair alone!"

Alexia stifles her laugh as Olga continues to rake her fingers through Jaume's hair. It had been a long fight between them about the length for years now.

Jaume liked it a bit longer while Olga preferred it to be clipped a bit shorter so it would stop falling into his eyes when he walked.

"I'm just making it neat."

"It's fine!"

Alexia sighs. "Can we go in now? The others are waiting."

It's a monthly tradition to meet up at Alexia's Mama's house with the rest of the extended family. This argument happened every time they pulled up.

Olga frowns at Jaume as he forces his hair back to how it was before, shaking her head. "Fine."

Alexia lets them all into the house, already knowing the party had migrated to the garden with the barbeque set up and beers already opened.

"Say hello to your Abuela first, Jaume," Alexia calls after him as her son rushes off to grab food," And tell her you love her!"

Jaume gives no indication that he hears her and he doesn't need to be reminded.

"He better be polite to his cousins," Alexia grumbles as Jaume makes a quick pitstop with Eli before hurrying to load up his plate.

"He will be. You know him."

Jaume's sweet really. A big softie but after playing a big match yesterday and sleeping most of the day away, it was stupid to get between him and food.

Alexia shakes her head fondly at her son before surveying the group. Her aunts and uncles and cousins are all there with their own kids. Alba's holding a baby that Alexia doesn't quite recognise.

There's a little boy running around as well that she doesn't recognise either and that's when Alexia spots you.

It's been years but Alexia would recognise you anywhere.

The last time she'd seen you, you were nearly seventeen, doing your last performance with your ballet company in Spain that Alexia had to secretly buy tickets to see.

You'd gone to England then for a year or two and last Alexia heard you were dancing in France.

You fondly look down at the little boy as he crashes into you, sweeping his messy hair out of his eyes before sending him on his way.

Alba passes the baby to you and you hold her so comfortably that she must be yours.

You have children...and Alexia didn't know at all.

"Ale?"

"I'm fine," She tells Olga, sucking in a deep breath and painting on a smile," I'm fine."

But she's not fine and she's even more not fine when an arm pulls you closer by your waist and you back easily into the body of Grace Clinton.

Grace Clinton who plays for Lyon in France and who Alexia knows there is only one reason for why she would be in Spain now.

She's your wife.

You have matching wedding bands and the boy looks up adoringly at her.

You have children with a woman who is at least a decade older than you...

You look happy though, smiling up at her sweetly as she pulls faces at the baby.

"Alexia!" Eli's voice snaps Alexia out of her daze. "You send your son to see me but can't even greet your old mother?"

"You're not that old, Mama," Alexia says, kissing Eli's cheeks," You look good for your age."

"The comfort of good food and family," Eli replies," Come, sit, eat. There is more than enough to go around. Knowing your uncle, I will be sending everyone home with seconds!"

Alexia sits, talks and laughs but her eyes keep travelling back to you and your little family.

You're on the other side of the garden, with your baby and your wife and one of Alexia's cousins fawning over her.

"Bisabuela!" The little boy appears suddenly and Alexia jolts. He looks like you but he's got Clinton's mannerisms even though there's a big train on his shirt.

"Ah, James!" Eli says," What can I do for you?"

"Mami has lost Livy's bag again!" He tells her," Do you know where it is?"

"I will take it," Eli says," I am overdue Olivia cuddles. Sit, eat some food, James."

The boy - James - climbs up onto Eli's now abandoned seat and tucks into some brisket. He devours it in a way that only a growing boy can.

"Are you related to my Mami?" He asks suddenly and his eyes are on Alexia's.

She winces. "Yes. I am."

"You look like her like how Alba does."

"I'm Alba's sister."

James nods. "My sister Livy's named after Alba. Olivia Alba."

Alexia forces a smile on her face. "That's nice."

"I'm named after Bisabuela, kind of. James Eliot but Mami and Mummy call me James Eli."

"That's nice," Alexia says," It's always important to honour family."

Her eyes drift over to Jaume, who looks torn between approaching you or hanging back. He's always had some kind of hero worship for you, his mysterious older sister who lived with Jenni. He's still got that now as he steels himself and slowly heads over.

"How are you related to my Mami then? I know Alba's Mami's Tia so are you her Tia too?"

"I'm Bambi's-"

"That's not my Mami's name," James interrupts," Not really anyway. Sometimes Abuela calls her that but she says it's a nickname."

Alexia's heart stops. She knows that Abuela must be Jenni and she isn't sure what she expected. Of course Abuela is Jenni. Of course Alexia isn't.

James has no idea who she is.

James has no idea who Alexia is...who Alexia was to you.

"What's your Mami's name then?" Alexia asks instead.

"Beautiful. That's what Mummy calls her. Mummy's name is Amor..." He frowns. "Or Idiot because that's what Mami calls her when she's angry."

"When I knew your Mami, everyone called her Bambi."

James nods. "Like the deer. Abuela made me watch that film when she looked after me and Livy last week."

"It's a good film, isn't it?"

"It is!" His plate is empty and he frowns. Alexia's plate is full and he reaches for some of hers.

"James," Grace Clinton says," What have I said about stealing food?"

James puffs out his cheeks. "But she's family! She's Mami's Tia! You said I'm allowed to if it's family!"

"I said no even if it is family!"

Alexia can feel the weight of Grace's gaze on her even as she banters with her son. Alexia can feel herself being sized up as Grace takes Eli's seat and places James on her lap.

James eats off Grace's plate as the two adults stare at each other.

Alexia played against Grace a few times when Grace was just starting her international career. She's older now, wiser and captain of the team that had beaten Barcelona in the Champion's League final two times in a row just a few years ago.

Grace Clinton is your wife.

She is the other mother of your children. Sweet, sweet James and Olivia, who is now being gently passed into an awestruck Jaume's arms.

Alexia settles on giving her an awkward smile.

"James," Grace says, tickling his tummy," Can you go share our plate with Mami? I'm sure she's hungry."

James goes off quickly and now it's just Alexia and Grace.

"I love my wife," Grace says suddenly," And I love my kids. Coming back here with them is a lot for her, you have to understand."

"I do."

"She wants them to know her family outside of just Jenni. She comes from Spain and she doesn't want them to not know that part of themselves."

"I get it."

"Good." Grace nods. There's silence for a moment before Grace quells Alexia's fears in one sentence. "She's happy."

Grace fades into the background then as more of the family appears around the table, conversations washing over her as Alexia catches up with her cousins.

It takes a while before you approach and Alexia holds her breath. You're holding your breath too as you perch on Grace's lap, desperately clutching your baby tighter to you.

It's stupid, you think. You should be over this. It happened so long ago. You're a different person now but seeing Alexia put you on edge, especially so near your children.

You had nearly burst into tears seeing her talking to James, halfway between running towards them and just collapsing. Grace had gone in your place but you were even more unnerved now, having little Livy so close.

Olivia couldn't care less though, making soft little noises as she sat happily in your arms.

You peck at your food, unease rolling in your stomach as you felt Alexia's gaze on your side profile.

Grace adjusts behind you, a soft kiss being pressed against the back of your ear.

"Half," She implores," Please, beautiful. It's hot today. You didn't eat much at breakfast."

You had always had a strange relationship with food. It ebbed and flowed when you were a teenager. It had changed again when you were pregnant, another little human relying you on to keep them healthy.

But, still, sometimes you struggle when you feel off.

You nod though, unable to deny your wife anything.

Grace's arm around your waist is warm and comforting. The smile you know she is sporting is comforting too, even though you can't see it.

You usually went to these alone, once a year, even after you'd given birth to James. Grace's Spanish wasn't the greatest and her accent made her speaking almost unintelligible sometimes but it was nice she was here to support you, to whisk you and the kids away the moment you wanted.

You turn your head, meeting Alexia's eyes.

She smiled awkwardly at you and you smiled even more awkwardly back.

"His shirt," She says, the first words she's spoken to you all afternoon," He likes trains?"

You look down bashfully. "He took more after me than we expected."

Alexia bites her lip, debating back and forth whether or not to continue. "How long are you staying?"

"Two weeks."

"I...I have some trains at home. Jaume is too old for them now. Would James-?"

You nod, a real smile appearing on your face. "He would like that, thank you."

You tilt towards Alexia, showing her Olivia more obviously.

You don't let her touch your baby. You don't want her touching either of your children. But you can stomach this, for now.

"This is Olivia," You say," She's nearly one."

"She's beautiful."

Grace grins behind you. "Just like my wife."

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol

Genre: smut and I guess fluff

Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.

***

You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.

"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.

"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.

"Why?" His eyes narrow.

"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"

"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.

"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.

"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.

"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.

"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.

"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.

"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.

"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."

"To each their own." You hum.

"You are a strange woman."

"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.

"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.

"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."

"That's not what I meant."

"No?"

"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.

"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.

"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."

"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.

It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.

"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.

"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.

"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."

"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?

"Yes obviously." He scoffs.

"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"

"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.

"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.

"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.

"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.

"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."

"That's very weird." Tony says.

"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.

"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.

"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.

You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.

"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.

"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.

"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.

"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.

"I don't shake hands." Loki says.

"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking."  Jack says.

"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.

"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.

"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.

"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.

"No." You say firmly.

"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.

"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.

"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.

"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.

"He looks like a jungle cat."

"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.

"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.

"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.

"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."

"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.

"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.

"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.

"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.

"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.

"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.

"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.

"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.

"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.

"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.

"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.

"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.

"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.

"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.

"Well you did quite literally run away."

"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"

"So what?" You shrug.

"People worship me y/n."

"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.

"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.

"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.

"That's rather presumptuous."

"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"

"And where is that?"

"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."

"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.

"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.

"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.

"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.

"My question is the answer to yours."

"I don't follow."

"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Your behavior, is disarming."

"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.

"It's not something I'm used to."

"Right." You hum.

"So?"

"So?"

"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.

"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."

"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."

"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.

"You caught me off guard." He frowns.

"It's not like I couldn't do it again."

"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.

"That's cute." You chuckle.

"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.

"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.

"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."

"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."

"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.

"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.

"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.

"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.

The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.

"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.

"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.

"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.

"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.

"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"

"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.

"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."

"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."

"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.

"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.

"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.

"Do not mock me." He sighs.

"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."

"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."

"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."

"Say it Loki."

"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.

"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."

"I'm sure." He nods.

"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.

"Ask me anything."

"How do you feel about restraints?"

"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."

"How are you with pain?"

"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.

"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."

"I don't need a safewor-"

"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.

"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."

"Gold?"

"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"

"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.

"I can remember gold." He says.

"Then gold it is. And Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.

"I won't need to."

"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."

"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.

"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"

"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.

"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.

"I have homework already?"

"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."

"That's fine with me."

"Toys?"

"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"

"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"

"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.

"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."

"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.

"Do you have any questions?" You ask.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."

"So we can start now?"

"You think you're ready?"

"Yes."

"Kneel."

Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.

"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"

"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.

"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"

"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.

"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.

"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.

"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.

"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.

"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.

"So what?"

"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.

"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.

"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.

"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.

"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.

"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.

"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.

"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.

"Mistress I, I'm close-"

"So soon? Wow." You taunt.

"Can I cum mistress?"

"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.

"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.

"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.

"Please- mistress." Loki pants.

"Please what baby boy?"

"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."

"You need to?"

"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.

"I do love to hear you beg."

"Please!" He whines out.

"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.

"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.

"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"

"You're cruel."

"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."

"I can handle it."

"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.

"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.

"You need water honey."

"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.

***

[delicatebarness]

end of the line | the hard launch

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Singer!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been secretly dating for a few years, and it's finally time to tell the world.

Warnings: Fluff.

Word Count: 725

Masterlist | Support: Ko-Fi

A/N: I love them. - Please feel free to leave feedback, you know I love hearing your opinions. - B

Tags: @princesscore-angel | @msanimeotaku181

Everything Tags: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The world knew James ‘Bucky’ Barnes as the brooding, captivating actor who brought characters like The Winter Soldier, to life on the big screen. However, the world didn't know that the man behind the character had been holding a secret close to his heart.

To that same world, you were known as the singer-songwriter whose voice melted hearts with lyrics that spoke of hidden sorrows and forbidden love. Your latest album has taken the world by storm. It climbed to the top of the charts, with each song more poignant than the last. Yet, behind your public persona, you lived a secret life: one shared with Bucky Barnes.

You had met Bucky at a charity event– a glitzy Hollywood soirées, filled with flashes toward fake smiles and whispers behind champagne flutes. You had agreed to perform your latest single, your voice called to Bucky like a siren’s call. The pair of you talked, laughed, and exchanged numbers as a professional courtesy. However, as the weeks turned into months, your text messages turned into late-night FaceTime calls, which shortly turned into stolen weekends away.

The relationship was a guarded secret, known only to a select trustworthy few. There were suspicions, of course, throughout the tabloids and your respected fanbases. As things between you and Bucky grew more serious, paparazzi photos of Bucky slipping out of your apartment at odd hours, and mentions of his eyes lit up when your songs played in the background of interviews. 

But, neither one of you confirmed anything, you relished in the intimacy of your private world. 

That was until, your new single, “End of the Line” was about to be released. A heartfelt ballad about a secret love, cherishing stolen moments, and the bittersweet beauty of hiding. You suggested to Bucky that should star in the music video, but at first, he hesitated. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked you, his brow furrowing as he held your gaze. “This is a big step.” 

Taking his hand, your fingers interlocking with his. “I am, Buck. We’ve been hiding for so long. I want the world to see our love. Plus, the song is ours, it’s about us. Who else could bring it to life the way you can?” 

The way your passion for music mirrored his own for acting, he saw the fire in your eyes. And, he agreed. 

~

Directed by a close friend to you both, who already knew your secret, the shoot was an exercise in restraint and release. Set in a secluded cabin, surrounded by nature, the scenes were tender. They were filled with longing glances and gentle touches. Your real emotions poured into your performances, the chemistry you shared with Bucky was undeniable and electrifying. The camera captured your unspoken love as you danced in the moonlight, and shared whispered secrets.

During one intimate scene, he whispered, “Are you nervous about how they’ll react?” 

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “A little, but we’ve come this far together. No matter what happens, we’ll still have us.” 

He brushed a strand of hair from your face as he smiled down at you. “Till the end of the line.” You echoed his words softly back to him. 

~

Shockwaves were sent through your fanbases when the video was released. The cinematography was stunning and raw, unfiltered emotion haunted the song. Your secret was out, and it captivated the world. Instead of the scandal you had feared, the response was overwhelmingly positive. 

Fans and critics alike praised the authenticity of your love and the bravery you both had shown by sharing something incredibly personal to the world. 

~

The ‘hard launch’ was a success, and as you stood on stage at your next concert, you sang the song live to a crowd for the first time. The crowd erupted in applause as Bucky appeared on stage behind you. Turning in confusion, your voice trembled slightly with emotion as the love of your life ran toward you. 

The second he reached you, he took your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. Right there in front of thousands, sealing your love in the spotlight. He whispered against your lips, “I love you, till the end of the line.” you smiled, repeating the words back to him as tears of joy streamed down your face. 

---

Masterlist | Support: Ko-Fi

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched

Mattheo Riddle has a secret girlfriend, it's even secret to her

Reader isn't in a particular house, implies they're not in Slytherin. Reader and all characters mentioned are 18+ and in college! Hogwarts. Probably will be a spicy part 2 ;)

Modern!Harry Potter AU, College!Mattheo Riddle, College!Hogwarts AU

Questions first began to arise before one of Slytherin’s quidditch matches last month, particularly when Mattheo was changing into his uniform and Draco noticed the scratches down his back. The boys teased him over it, questioning him on who was the lucky girl who made them. Mattheo just smiled on and let them try to decipher who it was from his giggles at each attempt they gave.

On the other end, questions circled around you when your friends first began to notice the hickeys that littered your neck, blushed cheeks and meek responses when your friends pressed on knowing who mauled their friend.

It’s not that you were purposely hiding who they were from, you just didn’t want to say who it was from until both of you knew what you were to each other. Mattheo had been there during a party hosted by Gryffindor, things moved pretty quickly that night when you set your eyes on him. He was pleasantly surprised the new transfer student had her gaze set on him, so much so that he didn’t reject her whispers about going back to his secluded prefect dorm. There were some more nights after the first, some more innocent than others, but there was never one important question asked from either side.

You didn’t know if the Mattheo Riddle was open to a relationship, Mattheo Riddle had simply thought you two were already together in his own world. He just simply didn’t kiss and tell.

While you sat in the stands waiting for the quidditch match to start, you were brought to attention when Cormac McLaggen sat next to you. “Excited for the game?” You questioned him as he chuckled, “if its not my own, not much,” he joked as you smiled. “Why aren’t you with the others? I’m sure the rest of your team are betting against Zacharias,” you hummed.

He grinned, “my bets are always against whoever Malfoy is against, doesn’t play fair,” he said before continuing on. “I wanted to spend some time with you for the game, if that’s okay,” he said as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?”

“That’s not a problem, is it?” He asked as you shook your head no. “Of course not, I just, well I noticed you talking with Hannah Abbot recently and I assumed…” your voiced trailed off as you looked away for a moment.

“She…ah, we’ve been comparing notes recently. She wants to get in good standing with Slughorn, she says the club seems like fun,” he admitted as you nodded.

“So there's-“

“Nothing between us two, I assure you,” he said with a smile.

Before you turned back to look at Cormac, you noticed the familiar head of curls staring directly at you two. Even from all the way out in the field, you could feel the death glare Mattheo was giving to Cormac. It surprised you, as Mattheo had never shown interest in any others talking to you before, but he now seemed distracted as they were beginning to set up for the match.

You hadn’t waited to talk after the match was over, Cormac walked you back to your dorm after, saying goodbye to you after telling him how you needed to study for your potions exam. He promised to send a letter later that night, to plan an outing in Hogsmeade on the weekend but when the hours passed and no letter was slipped under your door you grew curious.

It wasn’t until one of your roommates came in, going over to your desk. “Be glad we aren’t in slytherin, lost a hundred points earlier,” she said as you looked up from your notebook. “How come?” You asked as you set down your pen.

“Riddle sent McLaggen to Madam Pomfrey,” she said as you stared at her, quickly getting up from your seat.

“Did you hear why?” You asked her as you grabbed your cardigan, put it on quickly, and went to put on your shoes.

“No, but I did hear he spent the afternoon with you. Is Mattheo the one who gave you all those hickeys?” She asked as you rolled your eyes.

“I am not the reason they fought,” you said as you went to the door. “Where’s Riddle now?” You questioned as she took a seat on her bed. “Back in the Slytherin common room, I heard Dumbledore is questioning taking him off the team,” she said as you huffed, opening the door and heading to the dungeons.

When you made it past the password ridden door, you looked around before you saw Pansy taking care of Mattheo’s knuckles as she was scolding him. “Pomfrey said I was ok, Pans,” he grumbled. You made your way over to the couch he was sat on, his eyes on you when he noticed you were near.

“Why are you here?” He asked, “we have an exam tomorrow, you’re always busy the night before,” he said as Pansy looked between you two, dropping Mattheo’s hand as you looked him over.

“I heard what you did, I wanted to know why McLaggen is nearly in a coma from you,” you said, knowing you were exaggerating it a little. Mattheo only laughed as he stood from the couch, heading to his dorm. “It should be obvious as to why,” he said, anger laced in his words. “Obvious?” You questioned as you followed him.

“Yes, I thought it was very clear why. Why else would I risk being kicked off the team?” He stated as he walked faster.

“You are at risk with every fight you’re in. This isn’t even your first fight this month!” You reasoned as he let out a bitter chuckle. “Why did you fight with him, Mattheo? You won today’s game! So why are you so angry?” you questioned him as he stopped and turned to you.

His eyes were watery despite the angered look on his face, “I am angry because my girlfriend is entertaining other guys wanting to go on dates with her when she doesn’t even go with me,” he said as he stared down at you.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, a bit taken back and hurt by his words. You weren’t aware he had a girlfriend. “You never told me you had a girlfriend,” you said, backing away from him.

He blinked, eyebrows burrowed in confusion as he looked down at you. “you’re- you’re the girlfriend. You know that…right?”

You gave him a bewildered look, “me?” you questioned, just as confused as him.

“Yes. I wouldn’t- merlin, I wouldn’t cheat.” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his face, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

“You’ve never asked me to be your girlfriend,” you said, trying to remember if there was a time that he forgot about.

“You have been the only girl I’ve seen for the past month,” he explained. “I thought, I thought when you kept coming back that it meant you were mine.” He said as you shook your head.

“I just thought it was a mutual understanding,”

“An understanding?”

“You know, like, friends with benefits. You never said otherwise. We’ve never been on dates! Even Cormac at least wanted to go on a date,” you said, Mattheo’s face twitching at the mention of another.

“I was going to take you for our anniversary,”

“What anniversary Mattheo? We are not dating!” You explained as he frowned, turning away from you now.

“We aren’t dating,” he said, nodding as he continued to his dorm. “You can have your date at the infirmary with McLaggen then,” he huffed out.

“Mattheo! Mattheo!” You called out, following behind him. You reached for his arm before he quickly shook your hand off.

“Mattheo, I don’t understand,”

The dark haired boy turned around, getting close to your face now. “You seek me out just for fun, come to my dorm nearly every night that you aren’t studying and you think I did not develop feelings for you? On the nights we don’t spend in my dorm, I spend all night in the astronomy tower, in the common room, at the Black Lake, anywhere you want to go for the night. I’ve shared with you about my father and his expectations and you’ve told me about your life and interests and how school was before your transfer and you just think I see you as some girl I only use for sex?” He asked, looking deep into your eyes, his own angered and burning with tears.

“You think I would risk losing my spot on the team over some girl I don’t care about?”

A lump formed in your throat, tears filling your eyes as you stared into his. “Mattheo..” you croaked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You haven’t known me for long but I never thought you would take me for someone like that,” He said as he scoffed, almost turned around before you reached for his arm, looking up to him.

“I never, I just thought… I- I don’t know what I thought,” you said slowly.

His face softened, looking away from you for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Mattheo. I just figured, maybe you didn’t want a girlfriend, or that… I don’t know. I truly thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits,” you admitted to him as he nodded.

“I never asked because I was afraid you’d reject me,” he said softly, looking down. “You’re smart and sweet, I thought once you knew about my family, my father…you’d run away,”

“You are not your father,” you said as you looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have said no,” you hummed, catching his attention.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t have a potions partner if I did,” you teased as he chuckled.

“You really needed to study tonight,” he mumbled before he moved your hand from his hand, lacing his fingers between yours. “I’m sorry for making assumptions,”

“I’m sorry for never asking how you felt,” you said in return, making him shake his head.

“Well….since we’re already here…I do know a way we can make it up to each other,” he said with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“You just told me I needed to study,” you said as he grinned, “you do, you still can. I can quiz you,” he said as he leaned in closer.

“You also need to study,” you reminded him as he chuckled. “You’ve been hanging with Granger too much,” he teased as he walked with you, opening the door to his room. “We can study tonight, but tomorrow if you pass, I know a special reward I can give you,” he said as he kissed your neck.

“A reward for me? Sounds like it’s a reward for you,” you mused as he gently bit your neck.

“Are you saying I don’t treat you well? I’ll have to remind you,” he hummed against your skin, making you shiver.

“Down boy, time to study,” you said as you walked over to his desk. He smirked, looking at you before grabbing his books and placing them in front of you. “Go ahead, study,” he hummed sinking onto his knees in front of you. “I’ll be enjoying myself, perks of the top potions student,” he grinned.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

🧸teachin' some lessons ft. yuuji itadori!

set-up: your best friend's pink-haired, younger brother seems to have some trouble with his girlfriends. maybe you can help him out, one lesson at a time? warning: inexperienced!yuuji x experienced!reader; nsfw themes include oral (both male and female receiving), slight voyeurism, sukuna ffs. mdni!! wc: 4.6k (oof my longest fic, and its about one of my fav men of all time ugh) ⁎ porn with plot ⁎

"hey yuujiii~" you called out sweetly, walking in through the main door. the familiar scent of the itadori household sneaked up on you as sukuna closed the door behind you. the keys jingled softly as the older itadori brother followed after you, his pace slow and languid.

the messy living room met your gaze with yuuji sitting on the couch, headphones on. in his hand was a controller, and he seemed to mutter angrily under his breath as he played the game. "fuck— come on, come on. hit harder. fuuck-"

the pink-haired was clearly unaware of your presence till you plopped down next to him on the couch. the furniture dipped under your weight and his eyes widened. the young quarterback moved quick – the game paused under his thumb, his deft fingers yanked out the headphones hastily – and he sat up straighter, taking in your sudden presence, "yn?"

"hey!" you beamed at him.

"hey?" he smiled back, confusion etched onto every crevice of his face. And you could see the puffy eyebags and residuals of sleep on his facehe briefly looked up at sukuna, who was standing behind you on the couch, “what’s going on?”

but sukuna was a man of few words. so, instead, the older delinquent wasted no time in walking to the tv and unplugging it, hence, turning off whatever game was playing on the screen, “time for a little heart to heart, brat.”

"you fucking asshole–" yuuji glared at his brother, cussing him in a single breath, "i was still fucking playing."

"tch, play later. she wanted to talk to you."

when yuuji cocked up an eyebrow and glared harder at sukuna, unfazed, you laughed. and that brought the jock's attention back to you, "well i– anyways. what's up?"

"well–” you dragged out the syllable to soften the awkward blow, “'kuna said something about your break-up and that you were being all sulky sulky–"

"ughh why?" yuuji cut you off with a pained groan. a silent blush crept up to his face in embarrassment and he looked away.

seeing his reaction, you put a hand your hands up in mock surrender, "your brother is an ass, i know i know. but we are here for you, you know that right? you can talk to us."

"i-" yuuji's voice faltered and he looked away from you to glare at his brother again, "do– fuck you, by the way– do you have brain damage, sukuna?"

"nuh uh."

"fuck you mean nuh uh."

"don't make me wanna smack you." sukuna answered back just as smoothly, "now talk."

yuuji managed one last groan past his pretty lips before succumbing to the situation. he chose to look at you, avoiding his older brother's scorching gaze, "yeah, i did– get broken up with I mean. uhm, yuko... she broke up with me."

"yuu, really?" you asked dumbfounded, "I thought everything was going well? did she, like, give you a reason why?"

"no. I mean, I dunno really? there's never a fucking reason. everything always seems to go so well. then, all of a sudden they're breaking up with me." his voice quitened down, "maybe it's my fault? I don’t really know at this point."

"yuu, no. don't think shit like this." you gave sukuna a quick glance, your mouth running dry as you looked back at yuuji, "im sorry if im overstepping my boundaries but like... how's your sex life?"

yuuji almost choked on air, "wh-what?! i'm not talking about that with him around!"

"i'll leave if you'd like to actually have a heart to heart, brat." sukuna argued back, "not like i wanna hear about your tiny dick issues."

and with that the tatted, older boy disappeared down the hallway and into his own room.

"hey…" you offered once the silence had grown thick between the two of you, "if you want, i can help you out? give you a few tips maybe? like, you know you can discuss your relationship troubles with me?"

but the quarterback went blank.

and when he didn't react, you quickly continued, panicked – because this is yuuji, your best friend’s younger brother. "i mean you can come over my apartment tomorrow night? we can discuss whatever's been bothering you. it'll be easier without 'kuna sulking around."

"right." he finally breathed out. then offering you a small smile, he nodded his head, "sure, tomorrow night."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

your house was eerily quiet.

your housemates were out doing god knows what on a friday night. and technically, you should be out with them, drinking and leaving smudged lipstick against some drunk man's neck. but here you were, sitting next to the boy a year younger than you, sipping on your third can of beer (because god knows you needed liquid courage to make this conversation work.)

"well, i don't want to make this more awkward than it already is for you, yuuji." you took a sip out of your can, "so, let's just get into it, right?"

you tried to steel your nerves. this was yuuji. this was the boy that had asked you to marry him at the age of seven, who asked you with a pipsqueak voice if you could be his first kiss when he was thirteen cause “everyone’s teasin me for not having a kiss yet, please?”. this was the boy who had sobbed on your shoulder when he went through his first heartbreak.

and, now this was the boy man sitting on your couch, sipping on his own can of beer with a uncertain, unnamed resolve in his eyes. he nodded, hiding his gaze under the pretense of examining the brand of the beer he was drinking.

"so, you said you were doing everything right, right? what are you even doing with them?"

he froze, "i mean, the- the usual? dates, cuddles, movie nights and all?"

"awh well that's sweet, isn’t it?" you smiled, reminiscing about the time when a guy put that effort into any of your relationships.

he nodded awkwardly and you continued, finding courage as the alcohol poured into your bloodstream, "then maybe it's something else? "

"my sex life's okay…?" his mouth seemed to have gone dry and he swallowed wantonly, "i mean i think? i haven't really gone beyond second base with a girl yet."

"what?" you mindlessly scooted closer to him, putting your hand on his bicep and staring him down. "but didn't you date the girl before this one for a good five months? what was her name– uh, kugisaki's friend, right?"

"i mean yeah—"

"—yuuji?! have you just been ignoring your girlfriends? five months is a long time."

"what?!" his face went hot, the blood rushing to his ear-tips and nose, "it is not! I- I mean I just dont wanna look like a pervert by coming onto them, you know?"

"by making them wait five months? you're insane."

before yuuji could defend himself, you were getting ready to cut him off again. you leaned in till you could count the acne scars on his left cheek, and that tiny cut under his eyes where sukuna accidentally hit him. and now, you were suddenly hyper-aware of his gaze on your lips and his breath on your cheek. you pulled back slowly with a shuddering sigh.

this was yuuji.

the alcohol was raging in your system. clearly.

you sighed, choosing to look away from his face. pulling yourself back fully, you ran your hands through a wayward strand of hair, "look you're clearly a good looking dude, yuuji.” you didn’t ignore the way his jaw grew tense under your compliment, eyes boring into yours, “I mean, you are well-built and you're nice. you’re the goddamn quarterback. half the girls probably wanna get with you cause they wanna get fucked by the quarterback."

"really?” his gaze faltered and for a second, he was the thirteen year old asking for his first kiss, “but i- i don't know how to do… that."

"do what?"

he chewed on the inside of his cheek, "fuck someone i guess?"

he took another sip and you didn't ignore the way his tongue peaked out to lap off a drop that lingered on his bottom lip. dragging your eyes upwards to meet his, you found him staring at you, the resolve in his eyes hardening. silently, he put down his can of beer on the coffee table.

you tensed, sensing something wrong in the anticipatory silence, "what?"

but before you could press further questions, he was scooting closer towards you. his deft fingers plucked the can out of your grip and kept it on the coffee table next to his own. meeting your heated gaze, he softly, uncertainly brushed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. he paused, “you want this?”

your eyes dropped down to his slightly chapped lips as you leaned into his touches, “maybe...?”

he let out a trembling sigh, the heat on your face erupting goosebumps across your body. but he pulled back quick, changing his mind, "you're drunk."

your fingers found purchase on his chest, and you pushed him backwards till his back was flush against your couch. daringly, you straddled him and the plush fat of your thighs felt wildfire warm against his clothes. your eyes pleaded against his, trying to find an excuse to do the wrong thing. you found yourself whispering, "not that drunk."

you shift above him. letting your hips rock gently against his thighs, you whispered again, "what are you scared of, yuuji?”

his pupils dilated, hair tousled and tongue got stuck to the rooftop of his mouth as you hovered over him. when he spoke, it felt like he was holding back a groan, “we shouldn’t – sukuna, he’d kill me if he found out.”

“we aren’t doing anything wrong. I think i can teach you a thing or two, yuuji." flashing him a quick smile, leaning downwards to tease him, "a few lessons, you know? you want it?"

he paused, growing sure of his words, “when do we start?”

🧸 lesson 01: please the lady

you were sprawled out on your sofa, hair a tangled mess. your fingers tugged his hair, moving him up and down like a personal fucktoy till you could no longer hold in breathless moans.

yuuji itadori met your eyes as his tongue flicked against your clit, too good for it to be a first time. then parting from your dripped core, he pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh. eyes never leaving yours. his pupils were blown out, face flushed and hair sweaty. when he spoke, his voice seemed too thick for his body, "am i doing okay?"

you nodded, running your fingers through his scalp as he resumed the cruel pace of his wicked tongue against you, “you– you sure this is your first ah fuck- first time?”

“that good?” he just smiled against your heat, the throbbing of your clit in wicked sync with his ragged breath, as if he was gonna cum just from eating you out.

"yuuji~" his name came easy to you. it was a name you had moaned on some nights where your depraved fantasies caught up with you under those silken sheets.

you didn't dream of fucking your best friend's brother! that's gross! no, ofcourse not... it's just that one day the growth spurt hit and suddenly, yuuji was no longer a tiny blimp with a huge smile next to you. no longer the boy with a sweet, innocent crush on you. now, he towered over you, hair falling across his forehead and sweat dripping down his jaw as he saw you after practice back at his home sometimes.

but you didn't wanna fuck him. obviously not.

your voice betrayed you. the syllables strung in moans and gasps left your lips as you keened hungrily into his face, "fuck, you're so good at this already, god- ah fuc-"

he hummed against you, basking in the praise, and the soft vibrations ran up your spine.

you knew this was wrong.

he was sukuna's younger brother and 'kuna will eat you alive if he ever found out that you had offered his brother to play with your cunt as if it was a toy.

but it felt so right.

the way his sturdy fingers dug into the plush of your thighs, the way his tongue felt against your clit. slowly, as he went lower, you could feel his nose bump against the bundle of nerves and his tongue push into your drenching core. you squirmed as you forced his face closer to yourself, grinding your hips against his face to allow him to fuck you faster, “fast- nghh faster, please please- aaugh oh my god yuuUji-”

and yuuji obliged, letting you use him and his pretty mouth to get off.

it felt – no – it was right.

"mmph ohmygod–" your thighs tried to close around his pretty face as your back arched, trapping him against your pussy. the knot in your stomach tightening until the waves crashed violently in front of your eyes and came on his face.

yuuji moaned, a starving man and you were both his heaven and hell from the way you kept him trapped against your gushing cunt.

🧸lesson 02: returning favours

you pushed the jock on the same couch against which you were ravaged. finding yourself straddling his broad figure with ease as you took your top off.

yuuji’s eyes flicked from you pretty face to your heaving chest to your inner thighs – still wet from his administrations. dripping down slowly, almost ruining his pants. your thumb swiped across his wet bottom lip before your lips crashed against his.

he tasted of beer and you and sin.

“ah fuck–“ he hiccupped as you found your teeth against his pulse, your teeth violent and lips soothing. his hip jut upwards, the hard-on begging some attention, some friction, anything.

a laugh escaped you, you mumbled into his bruised jaw and neck, “easy now, yuuji.” your experienced fingers softly dragging over his erection – and feeling the wet fabric underneath – and he bucked into your touches desperately. flashing him a pretty smile, “let me take care of you, yeah?”

your predatory eyes set him ablaze as you backtracked and got down on your knees. your manicured fingers undid the button of his jeans, his hips eagerly jumping upwards to let you tug his jeans downwards and freeing him from his misery.

with a final tug, his cock sprung free. his tanned, slightly curved length nestled comfortably against his stomach. his tip was weeping, drenching his abs in a translucent white. you batted your eyes up at the boy, taking in his flustered expression, “don’t forget to breath.”

“you– you don’t have to do this.” but his eyes betrayed him, showing such utter devotion and desperation towards the woman in front of him.

“i wanna, yuu.”

his body tensed up at the use of the nickname in such a lewd situation. how dare you let the same childhood nickname fall from those pretty lips and then use those same lips to kiss his dick? honestly, how dare you.

yuuji closed his eyes, his jaw slacking and pelvis jumping up at the innocent featherlike kisses that you placed on him. his mouth grew dry and without much cognitive thought, he pushed your head down on his cock.

you made a depraved noise as he pushed the tip past your lips, forcing his length into your mouth with unabashed bravery. he opened his eyes but his breath picked up at the sight of you. eyes welling up from the sudden intrusion, spit down his length and on your pretty face. spurred on by the sight, he pushed your face downwards, relishing in your strangled moans.

“yuu-“ you moaned around his cock. and there it was again, that fucking nickname.

he groaned, throwing his head back, “fuck, don’t call me that or I’ll cum in a second, pl-please.”

his grip loosened, letting you move your head up and down at your pace. you pulled yourself upwards, sucking on his tip as your hand roamed his entire length.

“fucc-“ his words and hips stuttered in a wicked symphony, “shi– shit yeah, please keep going.”

your phone rung.

you expected the jock to beg you to ignore it, but once he heard the ringtone, he picked up your phone in his shaky hands. turning the screen to show you the name of the caller, he whispered, "sh-should i, like... pick it up?"

still sucking on yuuji’s dick, you saw ‘kuna💀’ flash up on the screen. shit. you let go of the tip with a pop, looking at yuuji with wide eyes. but before you could ask him to cut the call, the jock accepted it.

he put the grumbling man on the other side on speaker as your hands still worked on the younger brother.

"took you long enough to answer." sukuna huffed, "open the door, i'm outside."

your voice pitched up, eyes widened, but hands still moved up and down with ease, "whaT? you are? why??"

"i thought you'd wanna hang out since your roommates are gone?" he paused, "you sound like you’re busy. you’re busy?"

almost as if on cue, yuuji let out a broken gasp; his teeth caught his bottom lip, head thrown back as he tried to contain in the sinful noises.

"what was that?" sukuna asked, and yuuji pressed his broad fingers to his mouth, trying to hold off any and all sounds.

"mhm, nothing." you nodded no frantically as if sukuna could see you. all the meanwhile, his younger brother's brought his hands to your tits, softly tugging on your nipple. yuuji, that fucking brat. you restrained the choked moans and continued, "i'm no-t well, that's all, 'kuna."

"really? you were okay last night."

"yeah yeah, you... you should go back home, really." you squirmed at the jock’s expressions. he was now biting down on his fist, trying to hold in the wayward groans and moans. the sight spurred you on to move your hands faster, pressing chaste, wet kisses every once in a while.

testing both of your and yuuji’s limits over this phone-call.

"if you're sick, then you should let me in. i'll make you soup or something." sukuna sighed, "don't worry, i am not going all sappy on you, brat. i don't have anything else to do right now, anyways. you wouldn't believe, you know satoru?? that oldie, he went back to his ex su–"

"hm? really?" you answered half-lidded as yuuji’s abs tensed, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy and he bit down on his fist harder. a second later, thick white spurted all over your hands. the liquid drenched your hands and his abs, glistening under the overhead lighting.

“–do you want takeout right now?"

you broke out of your daze, suddenly realizing that your best friend was at the door as his younger brother lay spent in front of you. finally, you mumbled, "okay i'll open the door in a second, kuna. wait."

"yeah, i'm waiting."

"yuu?" you cut the call and looked up at the man. from the dazed look on his face, you were sure he hadn't paid any attention to your conversation with the man on the phone.

he looked down at you in mock anticipation and you raised an eyebrow, "did you tell sukuna where you were going?"

"fushiguro's. to play video games." he mumbled before tugging you upwards to kiss you.

you put a hand on his chest to halt his motion, and he whined. you brought a soft hand to his cheek, "great, so, uhm. your brother's outside and you're not supposed to be in here."

yuuji looked like he just heard his own death sentence.

he finally mumbled, "i'm sorry what!?"

"you were too busy getting a hand-job to listen—"

"—huh?!"

"—its okay, its okay, yuu." you stood up, and yuuji followed your actions, standing alongside you. you placed a quick kiss on his cheek before giving him a pleading look, "just go hide in the bathroom yeah? i'll ask kuna to go in a few minutes."

"what??" he looked genuinely surprised but obliged nonetheless. nodding mindlessly, yuuji pulled his jeans upwards and slipped into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

cleaning your hand, and putting your clothes on at lightning speed, you tried to smooth your hair out as you walked over to the door. opening the door, you found the tatted man peering down at his phone and scrolling away.

he looked up at you with confusion, "you look like you got railed."

oops.

🧸lesson 03: playin' it unfair

without commenting any further on the state of your hair or clothes, the older itadori had moved past you and sat down on the couch. the very couch where his younger brother had laid you down and gone to town in.

locking the door incase your roommates walked in early from their night out, you had turned around to look at your best friend. trying to hide the slight slur in your voice, you had nagged him, "you saw my face, now leave."

ignoring you, he continued scrolling his phone. then once he had done whatever inspection he had to, he had asked you without even glancing up, "so should i order chinese or what? in the mood to go to an in n' out?"

"didn't i just tell you that i was sick?"

"you are so bad at lying, dude."

"im not lying!"

and the ever-observant sukuna had nodded towards the two opened cans of beer on the coffee table. one of them had your lipgloss smothered over it while the other had been on his younger brother's lips. well, fuck. how did you forget to hide that?

you probably weren't aware of your kiss-bitten lips, of the trailing purple bruises that were laid bare against your jaw and neck, and the ones that trailed even under your loose shirt. you probably didn't know just how damp your hair looked and how your eyes darted from him to the rest of the apartment in a guilty dance.

"who was here?" he had finally asked. his voice was barely curious, just a normal question, "did he do something stupid?"

sukuna never bothered to lecture you about who you decided to bring back home or not, neither did you question the women he slept with. but if he found out who was here this time, it might end badly for all of you.

he wouldn't know yuuji was here, would he?

you had gulped wantonly, "what? no." you continued with a light laugh, "nobody was here, 'kuna. trust me. just some guy, total idiot." you had paused, trying to improv your way out of the situation, "he left a while before you called."

but for someone who was so scared of sukuna finding out, how did you end up back in the bathroom? letting yuuji fuck you on his finger as his brother waited in the living room outside?

"yuu, don't." you whispered as you sunk deeper into door behind you, your back flush against the hard door as yuuji caged you in.

"you said he'd be gone in five minutes, it's been atleast fifteen." he nipped along your jaw, slowly licking over the blossoming bruises he had left. he picked his head up, eyes pointing at you with ungodly desperation, "send him back, please."

his words were accompanied with slow circles on your clothed pussy, teasing you as he whined against your soft skin. his head dipped upwards, carefully brushing against your neck and cheek. hot breath tickling you as his hand carefully guided you to his hard-on.

a teasing laugh escaped you, "didn't i just make you cum?"

he smiled, but his voice was breathless, "should i apologize? i don't think so—" his voice died in his throat, hands going faster to get you just as riled up as he was.

"yuu, come on. kuna's outside." you muttered, but your fingers betrayed your words, palming him leisurely through his pants. running your hand up and down, you restrained any moans within when his teeth sunk down on your exposed neck. he kissed the bruise, "but you can't cut the lessons short."

"yuu—"

"—fu-fuck, jus' like that." yuuji ignored you, bucking his hips to get more friction out of your skimming touches. his pace fastened against you to match your relentless teasing. the quarterback leaned into your touches, teasing you faster and faster and faster and messier, so so messily, through the now-wet pair of shorts. as if his brother wasn't sitting outside, waiting for you to come back.

but the idea of getting caught only turned you both on further, the adrenaline acting like a cheap aphrodisiac as you both tried to grab any and every part of each other.

using his right hand, he grabbed ahold of your face and drew it closer to his. then, he kissed you. he kissed you as if you were the high his body was so desperately chasing. his hand slipped inside your shorts and started toying with your cunt, smiling against your lips when you closed your eyes and let him have his way.

"yuu—" you gasped, still sensitive, "don-don't do that"

he kissed you again, swallowing any objections and that wretched nickname down his throat with ease.

the door rattled as sukuna banged on it, "oi!"

both you and the jock you were tangled against stopped. breath caught in your throats, wide-eyed and looking at each other in horror. stabilizing your breath, you gathered courage and yelled back, "what is it, kuna?"

"you've been in there for way too long, everything okay?" he continued, "the food's here. and it's getting colder."

you casted a quick glance at yuuji, who seemed to have pursed his lips together so as to not even breathe.

"yeah, yeah everything's okay. i just, uh thought i got my period. but false alarm!" you chirped, sounding uncharacteristically enthusiastic about your monthly disaster, "just coming back."

"you're sure it's nothing else?" sukuna asked, and you could picture the suspicion on his tatted face.

"yeah yeah. aah—" you bit down your lip when yuuji decided it was a great time to thumb your clit. probably being a needy brat. you pursed your lips, before choking out a hasty, "—jus' go wait outside! give me some privacy, asshole."

"damn, okay. watch me eat all the food by the time you're out, brat."

"kunnaa" you groaned when yuuji went faster against you, "jus' go sit, i'll be out in a minute, okay?"

"fine." he grumbled before walking off.

you were about to whisper-shout at yuuji but he kissed you again, keeping the pressure of his fingers against your oversensitive clit constant. your knees wobbled, deciding to give out as the waves of orgasm threatened to wash over you. your thighs shook, head lolling back to rest on the wooden door.

"just a little more," yuuji egged you on, "come on, just a little bit more. gimme it, gimme please."

"fu- ngh no—" you bit on his lip to keep yourself quiet as the tides of orgasm washed over you and your knees gave out.

if he was in pain from your attack, he didn't show it. instead choosing to support your spent figure.

you both slumped against the door, sliding down as the pink-haired enveloped you into a hug. you breathed hard, resting your forehead against his chest. when you finally looked up at him, he gave you a smile, "too much?"

"you're an asshole." you whispered back. your fingers swiftly traced over his bottom lips, finding a little swollen bump where you had bit him.

"doesn't hurt." he reassured you, "barely felt like a pinch."

"i'm gonna go take sukuna into my room." you cleared, brushing the wet strands from his forehead, "you use the time to sneak out, okay?"

the quarterback pouted. what a child. "the lesson's over so quick?"

your fingers rested on his jawline, pulling his pouty face forward to lay down a chaste kiss. you give him a teasing smile, "i think i'll fry your brain if i taught you everything in one go, yuu."

"that so?"

"mhm."

the jock gave you a devious smile, "you're gonna make me wait?"

"teach you some patience while i'm at it, you know? patience is sooo import—"

"—I ATE YOUR FOOD, FYI. ITS GONE, DON'T COME CRYING TO ME LATER, BRAT." sukuna's voice boomed from the living room.

"fuck."

"fuck."

a/n: guess which motherfucker is posting while still being on a "writing hiatus" (this is a scheduled post lmao). haha, hello, hi. should i post a second part because a few lessons are yet to be learnt? ofc. ofc i should. will i? thats between me and god. (jk, i'll write it if someone wants to read it lol) let me know incase you wanna be tagged in part 02!! divider: by @plutism tagging: @kingofthe-egirls because you love yuuji just as much as i do <3

[sh1gglypuff]

Anything

A Kenma Kozume x Reader drabble based loosely on the song Anything by Adrianne Lenker :,)

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

You had come to spend many afternoons in Kenma’s bedroom. You would lay across his bed, watching as the setting sun would shine in from his window and paint him in gold. Kenma liked you because you made him feel safe. You would watch him as he played his video games and didn’t complain when the two of you could go an hour without muttering a single word to each other. He felt safe under your eyes. He rarely felt safe under anyone’s eyes.

“You have the nicest hands…” you muttered under your breath. You traced a heart into the center of his palm as he stared at you, breathless. He had grown tired of his gaming and had joined you on his bed. He was lying on his side as you held his wrist ever so gently, observing the lines in his palms and lengths of his fingers. He loved that about you, how gentle you were with him.

“You think so?” he mused. He said this lightly, his voice barely above a whisper. You brought his hand to your lips, breathing lightly against his palm before placing a kiss into the center of his hand. You stayed silent, staring at his golden eyes as he took you in.

You were a statue erected in gold in his eyes. You were everything.

He breathed softly, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at you. He would stare at you without any fear of being judged, without any fear of being gawked at. He would spend his time with you without any fear at all.

He spent his days on edge, watching everything and everyone ever so carefully as to not make a mistake. A mistake in his mind would be a misspoken word, a wrong glance. He could not make a mistake with you. He could do nothing wrong in the safety of you.

You held out your hand and stared at your palm. He followed suit, out stretching his arm and facing his palm towards the two of you.

“The line in the center of our palms,” you start. “It’s the same length.” He observed your hands. You were right, they were the same length.

Kenma didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He could never say words the way you could. He couldn’t say words so soft, so delicate and warm. You were observant in a way that he was not. Kenma read you, watched your face and your eyes. You read him right back, staring into his soul through his own eyes. You turned on your side, facing Kenma. He turned to face you, staring into your eyes for what felt like the millionth time. He could find something new each time. He took in the color, the shape, the size of your iris. You pulled him close to you and he let you.

He could hear your heart slowly beating when you were this close. His heart always raced whenever you were in such close proximity. He could smell you, the soft scent of your shampoo and the scent you always smelled of. He couldn’t tell if you were wearing some sort of perfume or cologne. Nothing he had ever smelt matched the scent of you. So warm and clean and comforting.

He bundled his hands up on the front of your shirt, shutting his eyes tightly and breathing you in. He wanted to kiss you until he couldn’t breathe anymore, he wanted to intertwine himself with you until you were one person. He thought these things in his mind as he breathed you in. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t want to do anything. He knew he didn’t have to do anything. You loved him as he was, wanted him for everything he had ever been.

Everything.

Anything.

[nanaicy]

Sweet dreams—Zayne

[summery]: In which you need Zayne's help to tire you out so you can finally sleep.

[Wc]: 1.4k

[Cw]: Nsfw (18+)| Fem!reader| fingering| use of "good girl"| finishing inside|uhh lmk if i missed anything.

You don’t often ask Zayne for help, but he adored it when you did. He liked being needed, liked providing for you, always giving you anything you wanted. He’d never say it openly, though.

And tonight was one of those days, where both were of you were getting ready to sleep, Zayne facing his side of the bed and you embracing him from behind comfortably.

An hour passed. You look up at the clock on the wall, its already past midnight when you still couldn’t seem to get your eyes to close for the night. And who could you blame? Probably the sugar or drinks you had today that only seemed to make you hyper, and your handsome husband who you rarely get to see on nights like these. 

And you’re thankful, really. Finally being able to sleep in the same bed after hours of overtime from his demanding job. But that still doesn’t help with the fact that you missed him everyday when he leaves for work, oh how you ached for him to the point every simple thing he does turns you on. Like opening a jar you probably couldn’t open on your own, or sometimes watching him work out inside your shared space, his muscles flexing underneath that tight compression shirt, eyes fixated on the outline of the bulge peeking out from his grey—

You snapped back to reality when Zayne cleared his throat out loud, your body stiffening. Did he listen to what you were fantasizing about just a second ago?

“Why are you still not asleep? I can feel your fingertips playing with my hair…” you can hear the soft mumbling escaping his mouth. Your eyes follow his hand as he moves it to the back of his neck, his fingers nervously rubbing the area. You slowly pull your own hands back, still feeling the gentle tingle from the brief contact. A hint of redness creeps onto his earlobes, spreading across his skin like a subtle shade of embarrassment despite his back still facing you, but he quickly recovers from it.

“I can’t sleep. Plus I don’t feel tired from the amount of sugar I consumed this morning.” And you can only half blame him for it, since the candy jar he kept on the shelves were too tempting not to munch on.

“Sugar? You don’t happen to talk about the candy ja—“

“Ohh, i think its starting to hurt right here.” You swiftly cut him off, pretending to be in pain as you clutched on your stomach dramatically. And he can only sigh while watching your little act, even so, a small smile curled on one side of his lips. He's hopelessly smitten by your cute display.

"You're so dramatic," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. But despite his words, his hands reached for your wrists to lift them off your stomach, then slotting his hands on your stomach instead, gently massaging at first out of concern whether it was hurting or not.

“Here?” He whispered, fingers poking on your sides playfully which made you laugh, followed by a giggle. “That tickles, Dr Zayne!” And you continue squirming and laughing before he stopped with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Well, that still won’t help me fall asleep. In fact that just gave me more energy!” You smiled brightly in the slightly dim dark room. He only hums thoughtfully in return.

“If you want to sleep, we need to tire you out.” He leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead, and you only raise one eyebrow. When you tried to lift yourself off the bed, he only caged you gently in his arms while gently pushing you back on the bed. “I promise I won’t go too far,” and you feel like you instantly get the hint when his hand slides down to meet your bare thigh.

You silently thank yourself for only wearing an oversized shirt and panties tonight.

Zayne’s fingertips finally found itself way to your panties, his thumb slowly rubbing on your clit in circular motions through the thin fabric which made you gasp softly.

“Zayne—“

“Relax.” He whispered, soft lips finding yours into an open messy kiss, drinking in every mewl and whine that escaped from your lips. “Lie down, and spread your legs for me, darling.” He instructed in a low, husky tone. And you did as told, his arms pulling away from your back before letting yourself get comfortable on the mattress.

His breath hitched when you easily spread your legs open for him, his hands wasting not time to pull your underwear down to your ankles before slowly sinking in his middle finger into your wet, tight cunt. Your little hole fluttering around his finger when he started stroking your insides lightly, the back of your hand covering your mouth, struggling to not moan every time he would push knuckles deep inside you.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, gently brushing your hand away with his other hand before sinking in another finger in. Two fingers curling right into your sweet spot which immediately made you shamelessly moan out loud, hips arching off the bed as you clenched tightly around his fingers before coming undone. Though he continued thrusting his digits in and out, not fast, but steady.

“Good girl, now tell me what you want me to do next.” He roughly whispered, his own breathings growing heavier.

“I want…” you panted, mind still hazy while you tried to recover from your orgasm before he pulled out of you. “Open.” He ordered with dark eyes, your lips parting for him to take his digits in your mouth, your tongue lapping and sucking your juices clean off his fingers, a whine eliciting from your throat at the taste of yourself.

He then released his fingers from your mouth, leaning in to softly kiss at your temples. “I want more,” you mumble, eyes looking up innocently at him, which made him shake his head while chuckling. so you’re still not tired.

“More? That’s not enough information.” He said gruffly, and suddenly his pants were off, which made you blink twice for what’s to come. He exhales out shakily as he gives himself a few languid strokes before lining himself between your folds while leaning down to bury his face in your neck.

“You want me to fuck you roughly or gently? Do you want me to tie you up? Blindfold you? Or maybe, something else?” He whispered while pressing featherlight kisses along the curve of your neck. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and enjoyed it. If you were uncomfortable, he wouldn’t proceed. But he knew you liked being dominated sometimes. He could see it in your eyes, the way your pupils dilated and your breathing becoming ragged.

“… Roughly, please.” You uttered, almost to yourself as you wrapped your arms around him. He smirked against your neck so you wouldn’t be able to see him, he was pleased with your decision.

Zayne parted your thighs wider apart using his rough hands as he lined himself up with your tight entrance that clenched around nothing eagerly. “Relax, darling.” He murmured with reassurance next to your ear as he pushed himself into you to the hilt without warning, causing you to yelp in surprise. He moved at a leisurely pace, making sure you adjusted to his size, he then paused, waiting for your body to adjust to his girth.

He then began fucking you harder, pounding into you with long, deep thrusts. His movements were sharp, and deliberate. His hands gripping onto your thighs tightly, further pushing them down which made you cry out in pleasure. 

He took the pleasure at the sight of you, back arched, your nails digging and scratching into his back while hearing your moans of pleasure.

“That’s it, take it.” He grunted, one of his hands sliding down to slap your ass lightly, “take my cock, sweetheart—ah, fuck.” He panted, the rhythm increased, he was soon pounding into you relentlessly, feeling you clench impossibly tight around him, drawing you closer to your next climax.

“Hah… ah, Z-zayne,” you whimpered, tears prickling your precious eyes to which he tried kissing them away. “‘M gonna cum—“ 

“Cum for me, sweets.” He whispered softly, his lips pressing one last time on your shoulder before feeling your muscles clench around him. “My good girl.”

Your orgasm hit like a freight train, your muscles milking his cock intensely. Zayne groaned, following closely behind, spilling into you and painting your walls white in slow, sloppy thrusts.

Finally, he pulled out of you after a moment of catching both of your breaths, he collapsed beside you, panting heavily. “Surely you're tired by now?” And you giggle tiredly in return, eyes closing lazily and turning to him to give his lips a peck.

“I love you,” you whisper, and he takes your wrist, his thumb stroking slow circles inside your wrists. “I love you too, now go to sleep, love. I’ll clean you up.”

[jeridandridge]

For Lovers At Night conclusion

A conversation with Joe takes place and you evaluate your relationship with Melissa. CW: Homophobic slur, brief violence. No editing. We write and post like affection starved bitches.

“Oh for fucks sake.” You roll your eyes tossing a black trash bag in the dumpster. You truly didn’t have time to deal with a fake macho, butthurt man.

Joe gets closer and comes up standing now a few feet away.

“You the one that’s been fucking my wife?”

There is a hint of anger in his voice, but watching vigilantly you see his hands flat in his pockets, nothing to be hidden there.

“Well bud, someone has to.” You shrug mirroring his stance not shying away from making direct eye contact. Looking at him you suppose you could see hints of a once good looking man. He still had some muscle but it was evident the years of drinking were catching up with him if the beer gut and puffy cheeks were any indication. “I’m really not in the mood for this so can you get off my property?”

“You got some set of balls you know that?” Joe scoffs. “What’s a young girl like you wanting a woman Melissa’s age anyway?”

Cocking your head to the side you size the man up, quirking a brow. “I’m not blind or stupid, so I can see what an amazing person she is and I know how to treat her right.”

“Hey, I know how to treat a woman.” He steps forward towards you.

“Yeah? Then why cheat on a woman to fuck around with girls that could be your kid, huh?” You challenge.

“It ain’t my fault she wouldn’t put out. I shoulda known she was a dyke a long time ago.”

You can’t help but laugh. Looking at the guy in front of you, you see not a man but a toddler throwing a tantrum over a toy he doesn’t get to play with anymore. This Joe doesn’t like.

“The fuck are you laughing at?” He lets out getting right in your face. Not phased by the closeness and possible danger, you tip your chin up as you lift your hands pushing him back by his shoulders. Not paying attention to anything else around you, you dont see Melissa’s truck pull up or hear the door slam.

Getting out of her truck Melissa rushes over bumping into people along the sidewalk to get to you worried you’ll be hurt.

“Back the fuck up before you get hurt, little man.”

Joe all but growls getting in your space again, bloodshot eyes meeting your own.

“You can have her, hot shot. She’s useless dead weight now that I got her good years. Maybe she can help you clean up this dump after it burns down.”

“Hey!” Melissa calls out getting to you just as you take a swing.

Adrenalin running through you at the sound of his insults and threat you give a wicked smile as you cock your fist swinging it up right under Joes chin sending him right to the ground.

When Joe hits the pavement a wave of lavender hits your nose and arms warp around your front holding your arms down keeping your now throbbing hand in place.

“Watch your mouth and get off my fucking property.” You spit at Joe as other people on the street now pay attention to your little corner of the block.

“Amore! Stop.” Melissa urges looking you over as if you’re not okay. She realizes the pang of desire that hits her from seeing you defend her like that.

“Cmon, let’s go inside. Shows over!”

You call out to the small crowd of people as you go to the steps wrapping your arm around the redhead.

“Hold on,” Melissa hums breaking away to go over to a woozy, confused Joe sitting on the sidewalk holding his face.

“Mel-“ you begin to argue, only to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Melly?” The sad man grumbles out.

Kneeling down Melissa reaches out roughly grabbing the defeated man by his now bruising chin making him wince.

“If you ever go near her again,” she warns in an eerily low tone as he yelps at the feeling of her fingers squeezing the injured area, “the last thing you’re ever gonna see is my face. Got it?”

Joe winces looking at the redhead. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Letting go with a rough shove Melissa stands up leaving her soon to be ex husband on the pavement to wallow and take care of his bruised ego and skin.

“That was hot.” You joke trying to break the tense air as you two go up to your apartment. It wasnt a lie at all, but you would behave for now.

Melissa shakes her head carefully taking your now angry and puffy hand in hers looking it over. “I can’t believe you did that. Sit, let me take care of that.”

Getting the door open with your good hand you let out a sigh trying to cool down going over to the dining table, red and purple knuckles facing upward making you wince. “I’m not letting anyone especially a man like that talk about you that way. We both know he had it coming.”

Melissa moves around your kitchen putting ice in a dish towel before coming over to sit beside you. “No ones ever done anything like that for me before besides my family.”

“I’d do it again in a second even though I know you can handle yourself.” You keep your eyes on the redhead, a softness spreading through you when you see the concerned look on her face while she tends to her hand. Having finally met Joe, you understood why Melissa felt the way she did in her marriage.

“Well hon, it looks like I don’t have to no matter how stupid that was for you to do. You coulda gotten hurt,” A proud smirk spreads across her lips despite her trying to be mad.

With her eyes cast down on the towel you gently reach over tipping her chin up with your finger to meet her eyes. Having her this close again after the day you’ve had, you can’t see this previous plan of taking things slow to fruition.

Leaning over to the side of the table where Melissa sits you meet warm jade eyes as you brush your lips against hers. Melissa melts into this kiss, her arms immediately going around your neck as a whine travels up her throat in an emotional relief. Tracing her bottom lip with your tongue the redhead gently pulls back keeping her arms around your neck. She meets your eyes searching for any regret or hesitation.

“Fuck taking things slow.” You hum leaning in for another kiss, this time wrapping your arms around her waist to bring her closer to you.

And that’s all Melissa needs. Nothing is rushed or frantic in the kiss. You both move in a fluid motion like a wave crashing to the shoreline; natural and right like you’ve done it a million times before as you pull her up and walk her back to your kitchen island. Your strides are slow and steady as you two move, almost like a dance as your hands glide up Melissa’s back to red curls.

Breaking the kiss with a shaky breath you peck her lips once more as you feel warm hands cup your cheeks. Melissa looks at you with a soft smile, lip gloss now completely gone.

Still catching your breath you lean forward to close the small space between you kissing the tip of her nose with a wide grin.

“Amore mio.” Melissa whispers wrapping her arms around your neck once more, eyes glassing over with tears.

Standing there in the little bubble you’ve created with her the Italian phrase that you can piece together sends a spark of joy through your chest.

“Every time you call me Amore,” you grin resting your hands on her ass, “it’s like fireworks go off in my chest.”

“That’s how I feel when I’m with you. You brought me back.” She smiles with watery eyes. “And my nana already likes you.” She laughs through a sniffle.

“Yeah? Well Im in love her grand-daughter so that has to give me some points.” You tease keeping your eyes on her the whole time, your stomach flipping at the admission.

Melissa lets out a giddy giggle cupping your cheeks again. “You love me?”

“So much, Mel.” You smile bringing her hands to your lips. The moment she walked into your bar you were intrigued by the mysterious woman, the moment you spoke to her you knew you would do your best to keep her around.

Putting her hands on your shoulders she tips her chin up with a smirk walking you backwards to your bed across the large studio apartment. When the back of your legs hit the mattress you let out a laugh landing on your elbows as Melissa moves to straddle your lap.

Bending over Melissa meets your lips in a hungry kiss sucking in a breath through her nose. Your hands roam her frame again, cataloguing every spot that makes her react. She breaks the kiss first, immediately lifting the hem of your shirt. Wincing lightly as you pull your injured hand out of the fabric Melissa slows down bringing the injured hand to her lips lightly kissing each bruised knuckle.

“I love you, bambina.”

“Is that baby?” Your face breaks out into a grin at her words.

“Yeah,” she laughs meeting your lips again as she unclasps your bra gliding her fingers down your arms.

“Oh you’re cute,” you tease putting your hands on her hips rolling the both of you over so Melissa is now on her back. “Lay back and let me take care of you.” You whisper unbuttoning her pants.

From that moment on you keep your eyes on the redhead only glancing away to pull clothing off. Clothing gone on you both with a few minutes of giggles and fumbling you prop yourself up hovering over the redhead keeping eye contact as you rub your fingers in slow circles over her clit.

“More, Tesoro.” She gasps against your lips keeping her fingers in your hair.

In a kiss that shows her exactly how you feel, you keep your fingers moving drawing whines and cries from the redhead. Not wanting to miss a second of her reactions you keep your eyes locked on her with a satisfied grin. You had done this with many people before, but you had never wanted to see their every reaction. This time, you’re in love and you’re loved back.

Hours later lying between Melissa’s legs resting your head on the soft skin of her stomach, your fingers absentmindedly move up and down her thigh as she plays with your hair.

Thinking about everything you two have gone through together already, you can’t help but smirk. “Mel?”

The redhead lets out a tired hum in response.

“You still wanna go to that Phillies game with me?” You ask not moving from the comfort and warmth of her body.

Melissa grins carding her nails through your hair. “I’d love that, hon.”

Lifting your head you move kissing up her body playfully tickling her sides. “Come shower with me?”

“That’s a good idea.” Melissa laughs as she squirms away, pulling you up by your good hand.

In the bathroom as the shower heats up you find clothes for you both settling on big tshirts and shorts knowing if you don’t you two will be up all night.

“I can bring these back to you tomorrow.” Melissa nods to the clothes.

“Keep em. You look good in my clothes,” you chuckle. “You’re staying the night right?” You ask hopefully, knowing she has to work tomorrow.

“Hell yeah. I haven’t gotten my fix of you yet.” She smiles hugging you from behind.

Chuckling you reach around for her arm as you step in the shower. Adjusting the spray so it hits both of you, you gently rub your girlfriends back thinking about the day.

“It took everything in me to not text you good morning today you know. Then, when I saw you at the cafe I wanted to kiss you so badly.”

“I’m sorry I lied.” She whispers.

“No, don’t do that.” You shake your head. “We already talked about it and I’m sticking right here with you through everything. That’s all.” You shrug.

Melissa gives you a soft smile knowing just by your simple actions since you met that she’s safe and won’t be hurt by you. After a quick and well behaved shower, you get dressed and move to strip your bed of your now soiled sheets putting fresh ones on.

“Baby, what time am I setting the alarm for?” You ask as the redhead sits on the side of your bed putting her hair up.

“Five thirty.” She hums climbing in curling into your side. As you two lay together Melissa lets out a content sigh knowing that she doesn’t have to pretend anymore. She can have this with you as much as she wants.

Turning to your side to face the woman you wrap your arm around her waist giving her a tired smile. “I’ll make the coffee in the morning.”

Cuddled together Melissa lifts her ring clad hand up gently brushing her thumb over your bottom lip.

“Say it one more time.”

Letting out a laugh you lean in chasing her lips for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you hum kissing each of her cheeks, “I love you,” in between kisses to the corners of her mouth, “I love you.” You hum once more kissing her nose which you’ve come to love doing because it makes Melissa scrunch.

And that’s all Melissa needs.

In the morning you’re the first to move when the alarm sounds, hitting the offending device you turn back over seeing a groggy Melissa stretch out with a smile on her face.

“Good morning,” she lets out in a scratchy voice.

“I’ll start the coffee.” You yawn getting up.

It doesn’t take long for Melissa to get up and ready, putting her clothes from the day before back on from the fabric littered on the floor.

In the kitchen you make enough coffee for a big blue travel mug you have, making it just how Melissa likes it. Stirring it you grin when you feel her arms wrap around you and her chin on your shoulder. “Walk me out?”

“Of course, honey.”

Coffee in hand with shoes on and all belongings gathered you walk Melissa out to her truck opening the door for her.

“Text me when you make it to work?” You ask as her arms snake around your neck giving you extra warmth in the cool morning air.

“I’ll text ya, Amore.” She smiles kissing you softly once more before she pulls away to climb into the truck.

“Drive safe.”

Looking over your shoulder to check for traffic you step back watching the truck pull off and head down the road. As your girlfriend goes you can’t help but grin.

Going back up to your apartment you stay up with the sun smiling into your own coffee mug when your screen lights up with a text from Melissa making you laugh.

My pops told me I’m not invited back to family dinner until Nana meets you. What kinda hold do you got on the Schemmenti women, Amore?

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.12. MEN ARE STUPID

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . uncomfortable by eyedress

she feels stupid waiting for him in the kitchen. if he's upset with her she doesn’t want to be the first thing he sees in the morning. but she wants to fix what she did wrong or at least talk to him about it. she wants to show him that she cares.

so she keeps waiting. her head almost gets the best of her and she’s about to take refuge back in her own room when his door creaks open. 

she’s silent as she watches him navigate through the kitchen. she hates this. she’s never had to feel uncomfortable around him, as if she was walking on thin ice and one wrong move could ruin everything.

she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s watching him, and he doesn’t look at her. she looks down at her fingers, splayed on the kitchen counter, and begins to pick at them to try and calm her nerves. “...i don’t mean to bother you, but i just wanted to check in on how you’re doing,” she finally speaks up.

“i’m good,” he responds, placing down a mug he’s grabbed from a cabinet above.

“are you?” she answers quickly and then immediately tries to soften the blow, “i mean, i’m just worried. you won’t look at me. i feel like i did something wrong.”

he pauses for a moment before resuming what he’s doing. “you didn’t,” he replies quietly. it’s clear he wants her to leave it, but she can’t bring herself to. she wants to talk to him. she likes to talk to him. she likes him.

“then why won't you look at me?” when she says it out loud, it sounds pathetic. “i feel like there is something. i don’t want to assume, but i can’t help but overthink this. is it because i was out with atsumu yesterday?”

he finally looks at her but she immediately regrets asking him to do so in the first place. he looks nothing like how he acted and spoke with her when they were texting yesterday. “why would i be mad about that?” he asks. “we’re not actually dating or anything, i don’t care who you're with.”

everything seems to freeze for a moment. the world goes silent. even her pulse she could hear so loudly only seconds ago has paused, and she keeps looking forward. no longer at him, just on the wall past him. she doesn’t blink, she doesn’t breathe, she doesn’t move because it’s all she can do to keep herself from falling apart. she’d been the one to read everything wrong. she had let her feelings get the best of her. they'd agreed to pretend to date and she had selfishly pushed further past those boundaries; he had just played along. “yeah. you’re right,” she almost gives up trying to hold herself together when her voice cracks, “sorry i asked. see you later.”

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

nothing fun about this chapter??

special shoutout to the runnerup songs almost picked for this chapter bc there were many options

after you cry (the anxiety & willow), we had to end it (cuco), pain (pinkpantheress), weirdly enough the mortal boy king (the paper kites) and needs (verzache)

shoutout to my grandma who called my music taste depressing and lonely which is apparently true?? bc there were so many songs that went with this chapter

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gsyche @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus @eclecticeggknightpsychic @kodzukein @kawaii-angelanne @luvly-writer @kodzuken-hoe @kodzuken88 @bookworm-center @theweirdfloatything @glitch-karma @spicana

[roxxie-wolf]

𝒜 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helping Angel from getting a beating to entering a hotel and meeting someone who you will become close with.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: 🔞Smut, cunnilingus, fingering, Profanities. If I forgot anything else please let me know

Note: This is the end of this short series. I hope y’all enjoyed reading it. ^^

PS: First time writing smut, sorry if it sucks.

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞MDNI🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟩

Lucifer’s POV

Lucifer stood motionless long after you had left, his mind racing with thoughts of the contract. He went out of your room making a mental note to comeback and proceeded to his mansion.

Arriving at his house Lucifer couldn’t get you out of his head ever since he laid eyes on you. Your beauty, your grace, your very essence seemed to captivate him in a way he had never experienced before. It was as if a magnetic force drew him towards you, compelling him to watch and observe your every move.

As you walked through the lobby, he couldn’t help but admire the way your hips swayed from side to side, the way your hair cascaded down your back like a waterfall of silk. He noticed the way your eyes would light up with laughter, the graceful way you moved and the kindness that seemed to radiate from you. It was a stark contrast to the dark dealings of the underworld, and it drew him in.

When you were in the company of Angel, his jealousy flared, his possessiveness rising to the surface. He wanted you for himself, and he couldn’t bring himself to ignore the burning desire that consumed him whenever you were near.

But knowing that Valentino, the sly and cunning demon, owned your soul, Lucifer’s obsession with you only intensified. He became fixated on finding a way to break the contract, to free you from Valentino’s clutches and make you his own. Every moment spent away from you felt like an eternity, every second not in your presence a torturous existence.

He began to watch you closely, following your every move with a keen eye. He studied you like a predator stalking its prey, learning your habits, your likes and dislikes, your deepest desires. And as he delved deeper into unraveling the mystery of your being, he found himself becoming more and more entranced by the enigma that was you.

*Was he becoming obsessed, consumed by a love that bordered on madness? Perhaps. But in his mind, nothing else mattered except the pursuit of you, the one who had captured his heart and refused to let go.

It was an undeniable obsession, a fixation that consumed him entirely. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his mind immediately raced with thoughts of how you would sound like while getting fucked. The thought of you naked and vulnerable before him would send shivers down his spine. The mere notion fueled his desire like never before. In his imagination he would envisioned how your body would move in pleasure and how your moans would fill the air.

Your presence was a constant distraction, a tantalizing temptation that he simply couldn't resist. It was as if you possessed a magnetic pull that drew him in, leaving him helpless to the vivid fantasies that played out in his mind. He found himself captivated by the thought of you, consumed by the image of your naked form and the way your body would react to his touch.

In his most private moments, when the world fell away and he was left alone with his thoughts, he would close his eyes and let his imagination run wild. He would picture you beneath him, your skin flushed with desire and your eyes glazed with pleasure. He could almost hear the sounds of your moans and gasps, feel the heat of your body pressed against his own.

His thoughts were consumed by you, by the way your lips would part in pleasure and your eyes would flutter in delight. He longed to hear the sweet symphony of your voice as you gasped and moaned, begging for more. He imagined the way your body would arch and writhe with each thrust, your soft skin flushed and glistening with sweat.

His fingers would dance over his skin, tracing the lines of his cock as he indulged in the fantasy of you. He would whisper your name like a prayer, a mantra that fueled his desire and fed the flames of his lust. In his mind's eye, he could see you writhing and panting, your body arching towards him as you begged for more. His breath would hitch as he pictured your hands gripping the sheets, your back arched in ecstasy as he brought you to the brink of pleasure.

His fantasies would ignite a fire within him, burning with the need to possess you, to hear you cry out in ecstasy. The thought of you and your perfect form consumed him, driving him to the edge of desire. He would moan your name in the darkness, his hand moving with increasing urgency as he imagined you beneath him, your body writhing in pleasure.

And then there was the thought of your pussy, tight and wet, clenching around his cock as he plunged into you. The mere idea sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins, leaving him breathless and desperate for release. He could almost feel the heat of you, the slickness of your arousal as he claimed you as his own. He longed to feel your body yield to his touch, to hear the sound of your voice calling out his name in pure bliss.

He couldn't shake the image of you from his mind, the way your body would move in rhythm with his, the way your eyes would meet his with hunger and desire. He yearned to know the taste of your skin, the sound of your gasps and moans as he brought you to the height of pleasure.

The thought of you naked and vulnerable before him would haunt his every waking moment, driving him to the brink of madness with desire. He longed to lose himself in the sweetness of your surrender, to hear your cries of ecstasy as he claimed you as his own.

And as he touched himself in the darkness, his mind filled with visions of you, he knew that he would never be able to forget the image of you, naked and unbridled in lust. He would forever be haunted by the thought of your body moving in pleasure, your voice calling out his name in ecstasy. And in that moment, he knew that he would never be satisfied until he had you, until he made his fantasies a reality.

End of Lucifer’s POV

————————————

The hotel's hushed corridors echoed with the soft farewell of "goodnight" as you and Angel retreated to the solace of your separate rooms. The day's events had left a trail of exhaustion, and the promise of rest was a welcome one. The sight of Lucifer sitting there, patient and still, brought a mix of relief and apprehension.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," you murmured, the words barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, I hope you had fun," his smile gentle in the soft light. It was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, eyes that held a storm of thoughts you couldn't quite read.

As he stood, the distance between you closed, and you found yourself wrapped in an embrace that felt like a sanctuary. His arms around your waist, strong yet comforting, anchored you in the whirlwind of emotions that the night had stirred.

Your lips met his hungrily, and he immediately responded by returning the gesture. The kiss quickly grew more passionate, deepening the kiss his hands gripped your hips tightly. Your hands moving to the back of his neck to play with his soft hair. His tongue expertly danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth before finally pulling away slightly. He broke the kiss, out of breath "So, want to have some fun?"

You couldn't quite grasp his intentions, but you nodded eagerly. With a devilish grin, he swiftly lifted you in his arms and placed you gently on the bed, he began to undress you slowly, one piece at a time. “You think now is the right time, Luci,” you pondered.

“Now is the perfect time for fun with me, my sweet little star,” he purred seductively as he removed your final garment. Stepping back, he admired your naked body. “Don't worry, I won't take too long...just enough to make us both feel satisfied,” his hands slid down to caress your curves softly.

Stepping back, he started to undress himself. You gazed at his well-built body, your eyes trailing down until you noticed his already hard cock. His size appeared perfect. "My eyes are up here, doll," his voice interrupted your trance.

You couldn't resist glancing back at his cock, noticing the precum already glistening at the tip. Approaching you on the bed, he spread your legs open and gazed at your cunt. "Now, tell me what you want me to do," he murmured, stroking your inner thighs gently.

"I need you to touch me," you said in a seductive tone, your voice low. “As you wish, my little starlet,” his hands slid up your thighs, teasing your sensitive pussy before gently spreading them wide open, revealing your wet, needy core to him. Slowly, he leaned in and licked along your entrance, sending shivers down your spine as he probed your folds with his tongue. His fingers traced the folds of your sex, teasing at your clitoris before delving deeper, exploring every inch of your wetness.

He began to finger fuck you, adding another digit to stretch you open “Just imagine me sliding my throbbing cock into that tight heat...how would that feel, hm?” He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb while his fingers plunged in and out.

You let out a moan of pleasure. “You're such a filthy little thing aren't you?” He chuckled darkly while increasing the pace of his fingers inside you. Leaning in, he traced his tongue up your puffy folds, kissing and sucking on your clit. You gripped his hair, pushing him down as you ground your cunt on his face, your head falling back onto the pillow.

As you neared your climax, he quickened the pace of his fingers, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Looking down at him, you saw he was already gazing up at you. Releasing his hair, you clutched the bedsheets, letting out another moan of pleasure.

As you reached orgasm, he lapped at your juices eagerly. Removing his fingers, he licked them clean. "Sweet and addictive, just like you, little star," he smiled devilishly, leaning in to kiss you passionately making you taste yourself.

He positioned himself at your entrance and with one swift motion, thrust deep inside you. You felt him stretch you open, and he remained still, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once you signaled, he began to move.

As he started thrusting, he bent down to lock your lips in a passionate kiss. Your legs wound around his waist, and your fingers tangled in his hair. His movements became more intense and rapid, causing your mouth to fall agape as he delved deeper inside.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned, Your moans were music to his ears, resonating throughout the room and driving him wild with primal hunger. With each guttural sound you made, he picked up the pace, relishing in the feel of your breasts pressed against his chest, your nails digging into his back as you arched into him.

He skillfully rotated you on the bed, while he remained deep inside you. As his back met the bed, you took control, mounting him. You straddled him, your tight core engulfing his throbbing cock, his hands found your hips as he slowly guided you up and down on his length, sliding in and out of your wet heat, teasingly thrusting into you with increasing speed and intensity. Your movements grew faster, filling the room with echoes of pleasure.

The view alone was exquisite-your bouncing breasts, your hair cascading over your shoulders, and your eyes locked on his as pure lust consumed both of you. With each powerful thrust, his demonic strength allowed him to pound deeper inside you, filling you completely while your moans filled the room like a symphony of desire.

Feeling your tight walls clenching around him as he pounded into you only fueled his own passion further. Hearing your cries of pleasure echo through the room drove him wild with desire. His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging them roughly as he continued to ravage your pussy, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your bodies.

Feeling your legs tremble, you dismounted him, letting your juices drip down his cock. He swiftly turned you onto all fours, before entering from behind, ravaging your pussy with renewed vigor. He gripped your hips tightly as he began to fuck you harder and faster “Isn't this position so much fun too? Feeling my dick sliding in and out of your warm depths...are you enjoying yourself?” His voice low and husky.

He grabbed your hair and pulled back slightly, your back now flushed to his chest, he expose your neck to his bite, his other hand reaching around to rub your clit furiously. His thrusts became erratic, each one hitting your g-spot perfectly as he drove towards your climax.

“Let’s make a deal, shall we-fuck,” he growled, thrusting into you so fast that your eyes rolled back. Unable to speak, you simply nodded. “Talk to me, my little star,” he demanded.

“Ye-yes,” his incredible speed and intensity left you speechless, providing an unparalleled feeling of ecstasy. You arched your back, your ass flushed against his pelvis. Your hand instinctively reached out to push him closer, while he firmly held onto your hair and hip.

“Alright, here’s the deal, I’ll break your contract with Valentino and in turn you have to be mine for ever, how does that sound, my starlet,” he continued to pump harder and faster, his hand leaving marks on your soft skin as he held on tight.

“Uh-Huh!…yes,” you accept the deal. A deal with the king of hell himself.

He could sense your impending orgasm by the way your pussy tightened around his cock. “So close, my precious little star, come on cum all over my cock.”

He slammed into you forcefully, making your whole body tremble before your orgasm hit hard, milking his cock as you climaxed with intense pleasure. With a final deep thrust, he released himself inside you, flooding your womb with his hot seed.

The intensity of the moment lingered in the air as you both caught your breath, bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss on your neck before pulling out slowly, watching with satisfaction as his cum drips out of your well-used hole. Lucifer helped you lie back down on the bed, running his hands through your hair lovingly.

As you lay in bed, drained of energy, you gazed into his loving eyes and felt the chill of metal around your neck. Upon touching it, you discovered a chain that was glowing gold, held by Lucifer himself. As you lay there, panting and satisfied, you couldn't help but wonder about the consequences of your impulsive decision.

His words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the deal you had just struck. Becoming his forever in exchange for your freedom from Valentino. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized the gravity of your choice. But despite the uncertainty, a sense of liberation washed over you.

As you turned to look at him, his gaze met yours with a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. With a creative flair, he proclaimed, "You’re mine now, my little star." his voice sending a chill down your spine.

In the aftermath of your passionate encounter, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn't explain. There was something about his aura, his power, that both scared and thrilled you. And as the night faded into morning, you realized that this was only the beginning of your journey with the king of hell.

Some may call it fate, others may see it as a twisted fantasy. But for you, it was a new chapter waiting to be written. A chapter filled with desire, danger, and an insatiable thirst for more. And as you lay in his embrace, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

In that moment, as his arms wrapped around you protectively, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you were ready to face it together. The end of one chapter marked the beginning of another, with him by your side, forever and always.

⭐️𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈⭐️

I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.⭐️

TAGLIST: @hazelfoureyes @tremendoushearttaco @crystal-freak24 @fallintothechasm @neptunieesworld @purplerose291 @pixleslutz @diffidentphantom @yve-barr @goreedo11 @zero-h0es4m3 @mialoveslucifer @rl800 @vififofum @cimadreamer @thedelulububble @dorck26 @cloverresin20 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

Part 9: The Vow That Binds Me [Finale]

|Part 8:The Calm Before the Fall| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor Well, well, well. Three weeks later and here we are. The ending. Sorry it took so long gahaha. Here it is the ending. I hope you I delivered. Thank you everyone for reaching the ending with me. Uhhh… I’ll probably re-write some of the scenes here. There are some that I’m not exactly happy with and I know I can do better and you guys deserve my best. But for now I will sleep.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

One breath in.

One breath out.

One breath in.

One breath out…

It’s all you can do to stay sane. The mantra echoes across your head like a broken record. Crushing weight presses down on your chest. It forces shallow breaths out of your lungs—in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out.

Darkness surrounds you.

It’s almost mocking. Alastor’s darkness reaches out to you with only the softest of touches. His shadow loves to hover and place three small taps on the skin of your legs. Even when you drive Alastor to the edges of his patience an into the fiercest of fury, the darkest parts of him will play with the tips of your fingers.

One breath in.

One breath out.

How long must you endure this torture?

Well, that’s a ridiculous question! Alastor would certainly tell you so. His eyes would roll, and the base of his ears would flicker down with annoyance. Alastor would boop your nose or pinch your cheek. And that smile… ha … that smile.

A laugh escapes you. What a ridiculous question, indeed. You must endure for however long it must take.

The audacity of that man. How dare he turn you into a woman capable of such care… such affection. How dare Alastor make your living regret be that he never heard the words that’s inscribed in your soul. Now, it could also be your dying regret as well.

No…endure.

There are words Alastor needs to hear.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The tips of your fingers were right there. It was right in front of him. Close. Oh, so very close.

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you?

What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you? What happened? Where are you?

Alastor says your name, and it comes out like a whisper.

The echoes of his own voice answer him and your name reverberates around the once still air.

It’s the only thing Alastor can think to say. The words… they aren’t …. Why aren’t they working? His brain reverts back to the basics of instincts, and Alastor always seems to find you there. His most default instincts always seem to choose you. Because who else was there to choose?

It’s why Alastor married you twice—he dropped to his knees twice and asked for your hand twice. He would marry you across different lifetimes and realities.

Alastor says your name once more, letting it leave his lips like a prayer.

The crack of snapping bones answers him. Every physical sensation of snapping gives itself to you like an offering. They break to accommodate his growing body. Are his antlers growing? They are. They grow like mighty and proud tree branches for you.

The bones of his neck snap in three different places. His claws sharpen uncontrollably until they pierce the skin of his palm. Blood drips down and pools on the floor.

Where… are… you? Where is his wife?

The shadows grow around him, dimming the space further. His own shadow hisses around, and spreads the darkness further up the wall. It has a frown and an image of a single tear on its face. Alastor presses a hand on the ground for stability, and concrete crumbles underneath the force of his growing fury.

He crawls down the hole, lowering himself to wherever you landed. Dust settles around him and the air rings with a stillness, broken only by the fain static that emanates from him.

Alastor tries to say your name again in a desperate attempt to reach out. Radio screeches escape him instead. Control slips from his fingers like fine grains of sand. It’s unusual. Alastor isn’t bothered by this. If anyone were to bring him into this type of insanity, it would be you. The power you hold over him—it cannot be measured.

Tendril whips around him, and topples everything on sight. The space glows a harsh green. It’s the only light that illuminates against his darkness. Power thrums through his veins and flow out of him in waves.

It’s a slow but steady build, but dread eventually settles its icy grip on his throat. Something beats into his ears, and Alastor thinks it's his own heartbeat. That’s impossible. His heart is currently missing and buried under concrete.

Where are you? Please, where are you? Where is his wife?

Inky voodoo dolls crawl out his shadow. They stick their hand out the pools of darkness and pull themselves free. The dolls begin to work without a verbal order. These dolls respond to his soul, and his soul yearns for you. One grabs a rock while another slithers between the cracks of broken walls and crumpled floors. Each stone they turn, nothing pans out. Each nothing cracks him further.

Alastor’s fingers bleed as he continues to dig you out. It’s as if his life depended on it…and it does. You are his life.

Little domino effects cause you to storm your way into his story, and Alastor accepted it with open arms. You weaved yourself into the very essence of his being. How cruel of you to torture him like this now.

One of his shadow chirps. Its inky arms lift a rock and present an arm with a proud smile.

Alastor’s heart thumps as he stalks closer. Stray debris crushes under his weight. He finally found you. You’re here. He’ll take you and get you safe, properly this tim—

The shadows blaze higher.

That is not your arm. Alastor knows it’s not you. The arm being presented to him is shorter and sports the wrong shade. The proper arm—your arm— has a scar that��s faded and barely there. It’s one thin white line that no one would notice, but Alastor does. This arm doesn’t have your scar.

Radio static screeched out his lips.

Alastor crushes the shadow like a bug, reveling in the way its ink splats across the space, and drips down the walls. The other dolls shrink at his fury. One glance and their mission continues.

There’s a game Alastor used to play when he first died and arrived in a world without you. It’s a game he played when he left several years ago.

The rules were simple: List down everything he would sacrifice to see you.

A finger? Alastor would chop it off himself.

Money? Take every penny he owned and will ever own.

As the days without you kept growing, so did his list. His pride. His status as an Overlord. His image. His power. these all turn meaningless when compared to you. Not even their combined might can compare to a single stray feather on your head.

Everything that makes him the Radio Demon pales in comparison to even the smallest smile on your lips.

Why be the Radio Demon when he could simply be your husband?

How dare you, honestly.

How dare you turn him into a man who would set aside his pride…his power.

If Alastor needs to beg, then he would. It’s that simple. He would drop to his knees until they bruised, and offer everything for you. Who would he cook for? Whose ramblings would he listen to? Who would hold your heart with the gentlest of hands that are only reserved for you? Whose ring would match his?

Another shadow chirps. It’s holding a rock above its head, and the friend next to it points to a cluster of feathers.

It’s you. You’re here.

Alastor moves the wall, listening for any sounds that indicate discomfort. You look so small like this—chest pinned underneath some debris. The tips of his claw caress the skin of your cheek. He’s careful not to pierce you.

Alastor scoops you into his palms.

The form of your body perfectly fits into his hold. It’s as if his hands were sculpted to fit it. You shift to your back, glancing at him with a hazed look on your face. Alastor holds your gaze just as much as you hold his. One of your hands moves up and down and up and down as if to lazily pet his palm.

Every rise and fall of your chest prompt his form to get smaller and smaller.

Alastor wraps his arm around your knees, carrying you in his hold. The wound on his chest flares when he presses your head deeper into his chest. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. He has no plans of letting you go.

“Hi…” You smile up at him even as your eyes droop and dried blood cakes your face. “I… I knew… I knew—”

“I know,” he tells you. “Save your strength. I’ll take care of everything. So, rest now, my love.”

One hand reaches out. It’s shaking.  He meets you halfway, placing his cheek into your hold. Your thumb swipes the skin of his cheek. “Alastor.”

“I’m right here,” he says, nuzzling further. “Go on. I found you.”

You lean into his chest, letting yourself close your eyes.

Alastor presses his cheek on the top of your feathers until his bones properly snap back into place. He listens to your small breaths and the beating of your heart. Relief pours into him like one of your calming holds. It scares him.

He never should have allowed Charlie to talk to you. How selfish of him to involve you in this war to keep you next to him. Alastor has done a myriad of acts that serve his own self gain. Somehow, this is the worst sin he’s ever committed.

The shadows pull on his leg, and teleport him and you outside the hotel.

Lucifer battles with Adam across the sky with Charlie in his arms. Angels fly all around them. Chaos burns all around him in a way that would make him laugh. Alastor couldn’t find himself to even force out a small chuckle, not when blood stains your feathers and pain scrunches your face.

Lys and Heme spot you in his arms. They rush towards him.

The taller one…Lys? She reaches out a hand to try and take you from him.

She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him. She’s trying to take you from him.

It’s instinct.

A tendril shoots out his back. It wraps itself firmly around the skin of her neck and squeezes with the might of his ire. How dare she reach out her sully hands on you.

Alastor pulls you closer to him and radio static grips itself in the air until the second intern takes a step back.

Heme leans on a stray table, watching with an apathetic gaze as they cross their arms. “If you kill us, I hope you’re prepared to accept that you killed your own wife,” they say. “Aren’t you supposed to be her husband?”

The only thing tethering him to this reality are the small breaths you’re taking. Your face presses against his chest. The weight of your head pushes against his wound but Alastor endures the pain for you.

Alastor turns to them with a hash glare. Kill you? He should kill them for such audacity.

Heme presses closer to the table. “You kill us and then what?” they say, plain and simple. “There’s a hospital on the other side of the city…but angels are currently flying around. You don’t know what could happen during that time, or how long you’ll have to wait until someone takes a look at her.”

Lys claws on the tendril around her neck. “We can assess her right now… right here,” she says, coughing up her words. “Get out of our way or let her die—your choice.”

The tendril gives one last squeeze and Lys’ eyes roll back for a moment. He removes the tentacles’ grip on her.

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you,” he says and adjusts his hold on you. Feathers slide to your face. “Quite the pleasure! I would shake your hand, but my arms are rather occupied.”

Lys crumples to the ground, wheezing in some air. There are faint marks around her neck. “Just…Just place her on the cot.”

Alastor places you down, safeguarding your head. He brushes the feathers away from your face and thumbs the dirty spots on your face. The interns quickly move around you, and he watches them closely with a look only a wife wouldn’t be scared off. One wrong step and their blood would splatter across the city and their screams would be broadcasted to even the furthest rings of hell.

They work quickly and carefully. Alastor doesn’t understand everything they’re doing, but eventually they leave.

Alastor involved you in the Hazbin Hotel’s business. He brought you here. It was him who found a loophole around his deal. It was him who placed that loophole in his deal that made sure he could keep you next to him.

“It was the only way….,” Alastor whispers into your ear. Feathers brush his lips with each word he speaks. “It was the only way to keep myself next to you.”

It’s why he agreed to do the commercial the first time Charlie asked, and the second time with Vaggie as well. Alastor took a video camera and carefully edited the clips to add his voice.

That public display with the snake the first day he arrived, and the second time he humiliated the snake as well. It was all for you. He displayed his power and flaunted it with such overkill that there would be no doubt it was him and not some cheap copy-cat.

The taunts with Vox gave him the opportunity to be loud. It was an even bigger microphone that announced his presence to the whole city. That there would be zero doubt from anyone’s mind that the Radio Demon has returned, but maybe, to you…it would be an assurance that your husband was reaching out to you.

Alastor could only hope you were listening. He could only hope that you would care enough about him to seek him out once more, even after he was forced to leave you without a word.

And you did.

You stood in front of him, smiling as you fumed. The smile on your face was meant to conceal your frown. What a ridiculous thing to do. Did you not think that Alastor wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like? As if he hasn’t been spending decades hanging them on your lips.

A piece of him returned the very moment his eyes landed on you. It was as if time ticked once more and air could finally return in his lungs.

“Did you think about me?” Alastor brushes some feathers off your face. Dust and blood mix together to paint your skin. “Did you think I would rather be in this hotel instead of the home I built with you? It's a ridiculous notion…and also something you would do.”

One of your interns left a cloth and a bowl of clean water next to him. Alastor takes it, and dips the edges in the water. He gently swipes it across your face to clear any dirt that covers the face of his wife.

“How unfair of me to do this to you,” he says. “How unfair of you to do this to me as well.”

Alastor involved you in this war, brought you to the hotel under the pretext of business. It’s a careful loophole he exploited for the one who wears the ring that matches his.

Bringing you as a staff of the hotel meant Alastor could be by your side once more. It meant there would be someone to cook for again. It meant there would be someone to annoy once more. It meant there would be someone in the bed next to him, filling the room with soft breaths.

Were these past several years just as torturous for you? They were to him.

It broke him more than he cared to admit. Alastor knew where you’d be in every hour of the day, and it almost killed him not to go see you. It was the worst several years of his life. Worse than the time he first appeared in hell without you because at least then he didn’t know where you would be.

The deal he made chained him.

Alastor will make sure that bind him will never be stronger than the vows that bind him to you. He doesn’t like what that thought means for him. You are the remnants of his humanity that he cannot cut off.

He slips the second ring off his fingers, and places it back around you. Alastor’s done this twice already—married you twice because there was no one else he could marry.

Alastor has always been a selfish man, and it has finally ruined you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The sky greets you. Sulfur clouds lazily flow across its red canvas.

The blanket around your shoulder pools down your lap as you sit up.

Air flows through your lungs with air as fresh as two-week eggs. Bustling catches your ears as Sinners move about. Only the honks of traffic or the steady swoosh of the wind reverberate in your ears instead of high-pitched ringing.

Lys notices you first.

Her eyes quirk as she smiles, walking towards you. “You’re awake!” she says. “The extermination ended hours ago, so you’re safe to stay here until you feel like moving.”

Heme takes a seat on the edge of the cot.

“Most got sent home,” they say, crossing their legs. “It’s just you here now.”

Light glints off the ring around your finger and oh…there’s a ring around your finger but no Alastor. Later. Think about that later. “How long was a few hours ago?”

Lys hums, a hand on her chin. “Just a little four hours.”

You point towards the building up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel stands proud but different. There’s a giant dragon statue by the entrance. “That’s a fully built building.”

“It looks great, right? I’m just glad they didn’t ask for our help to build the thing,” Lys tells you, glancing at the hotel. “Lucifer used magic to speed up the process. It was interesting to see, but I’m not really the physical labor type.”

Heme leans back on the cot, propping an arm to steady themselves. “He also used magic to heal everyone else,” they say. “Just a snap of his fingers and bam healed. Some even re-grew the appendages we carefully sliced off.”

“Magic?” Your nose scrunches. “That’s convenient.”

“Too convenient.”

Lys blows a raspberry. “Boo.”

The pads of your thumb swipes the cool metal of your ring until your questions could no longer be held back. “My husband?”

“Yeah… he was the one who brought you here.” Lys makes a face, scratching her neck. “He filtered off somewhere when he spotted Lucifer walking down the hill.”

That’s disappointing. More than a little disappointing.

You spring from the bed, far easier than it should take. “Woah…,” you say, stretching your limbs. “That’s really great magic—I don’t feel a single thing.”

Heme snorts at you. “That’s good, considering you split your head wide open,” Heme says, snorting at you. “Who knew the Radio Demon easily panicked at the sight of blood.”

Panic?  What a silly, silly, thought. Alastor doesn’t panic at blood.

Lys scowls. “Ugh, I never want to hear his name ever again”

The new doors of the hotel easily open.

There’s a tower on the side of the hotel that looks like it has Alastor’s name written on the walls. The decorations are still tacky, and it lacks the homier and used atmosphere. That’s a shame.

It’s cleaner as well. You pick up any feathers that drop to the floor as you search for some way to get to Alastor’s tower.

Thankfully, there are signs that direct you to your destination. You go up the elevator and find yourself in Alastor’s tower. The fact that he has a tower here means he’ll probably still be staying here. You would need to leave soon unless you decided to stay.

Only a door separates you and your husband now.

The shadow’s harsh grip on the room lightens when you place a single foot inside. The more steps you take, the more shadows retreat.

Alastor’s back faces you. It stands proud as he stares out the window with folded hands. His eyes barely slide towards you, but they look and they linger for more than a moment. Harsh lines outline his body. Everything's sharper. It’s quite the menacing sight, indeed.

A question strikes you.

Who stands before you—Alastor or the Radio Demon?

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Alastor says and you choose to believe it’s him, even as a thick radio filter glazes his voice. “I want the truth.”

“Not a single feather out of place.” There’s a small smile on your lips even as he barely looks at you. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

Alastor’s back relaxes at your words. It only lasts a second before they tense up once more. “Good.”

“Thank you for asking, my lov—”

“Go home.” Alastor turns to the window, his back facing you once more. “The job Charlie gave you ended the moment the extermination did, and you are neither one of our staff or a guest.”

“Indeed, I am not,” you say, closing the door behind you. “I am only your wife, afterall.”

“Leave if you have nothing else to say,” he tells you, the lines between Alastor and the Radio Demon blurring. “…Be careful on your way home.”

“I’m in the mood for a walk,” you say. “Come with me? We can go home together. I lost quite a number of items, and I want to replace them sooner rather than later.”

Alastor tightens the grip he has on his hands. “I’m still needed here.”

“I’m thinking of staying,” you say just because. “The trees seem to have grown on me. And you know how difficult it is for me to suddenly change my sleeping arrangements. We can…We can finally do that picnic…”

Alastor turns—No.

The Radio Demon turns towards you, a wide smile on his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Your face falls into a blank as you stare at him. The audacity of this man to look at you like you are some wayward Sinner who would cower in fear. “I’m confused,” you say, slowly. “Explain it to me.”

His smile widens until it reaches his ears. “There’s nothing to explain. I don’t want you here.”

You steel your heart from his words. Comfort comes in the shape of his shadow. It plays with your own, a happy little smile on its face. “And?”

“Listen to me very closely,” the Radio Demon snarls at you, taking a single step forward. His figure towers over you menacingly. “I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself—Go home. You’re not wanted here, not by me.”

“You are my home,” you say. It’s a desperate attempt, an olive branch to allow him to retract any statements.

The Radio Demon stays silent, but wisps of Alastor appear in his cracks.

It’s the silence that forces you to turn your back towards him, facing the door to compose yourself. Deep breaths—in and out and in and out. It’s all you can do to hold your own cracking pieces together.

The smile you show the Radio Demon is a controlled and gentle smile that only a fool would mistake for kindness. “No, I won’t do it.”

A wave of power shoots out of him. The lights flicker and dim in response.

The Radio Demon glares at you, his pupils morphing into radio dials. Symbols carve themselves into the air. They flicker around you. The shadows that dissipated the moment you stepped into the room grew once more. It spreads underneath him, painting the room darker.

Radio feedback mixes itself within his words. “G̷̛̼͓̮͍̮ǫ̵̦̝̜͚̿͛ ̵̜͇̞̼̽̊̑̇̂h̸̗͌͘ö̵̼̠͔̰̭́̍̒͛̔m̴̜͐͝ë̵̻̗̲͇́ͅ.”

A knock sounds on the door. Only you notice the hesitant but firm knock.

Your back turns towards the Radio Demon, even as waves of power flow out his skin. Amidst of all shadows and static, his hand reaches out when you grip the doorknob and step out the room.

Radio screeches escape his mouth, and underneath the layers of static, you think Alastor says your name.

The door closes with a click.

Husk stands before you, an irritated look on his face.

“Hello,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “What brings you by—lost in rock, paper, scissors?”

“Volunteered, actually,” Husk says, snorting. “Wasn’t actually going to knock like I said I would, but these lights just got installed…and Vaggie mentioned spotting you on your way here.”

Another wave of power flows out the door. It’s stronger this time. Shadows pool out the cracks until the whole hallway dims, illuminated only by the faint green glow of the Radio Demon’s magic.

“Come on,” Husk says, ears flickering for a moment. “I’ll pour us a drink.”

“I don’t think the lightbulbs will survive if I do,” you say and sigh when they begin to flicker sporadically. “And there seems to be quite a number of them.”

Husk shrugs a bit. “He can afford a new set.”

“It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head.

“Before you go back inside,” Husk says, placing his hands inside his pocket. “The old bar…the one that was downstairs.”

Your head tilts. “What about it?”

“The bones, yeah? The one that decorated the bar…It’s him who placed those there,” he says. “Late at night, I’d catch him cleaning it sometimes, a drink in his hand. He gets pissy whenever it gets damaged.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. The heads of his enemies were a gift to you, and the bones were your gift back. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Eventually,” you say, a soft smile on your lips as you glance at the door. “You know how marriage can be—it has its ups and its downs.”

The door opens easily, and the shadows spill out and consume all the light around.

Static builds in a way that stings your ears. Still, you lock the door behind you, trapping yourself with the Radio Demon.

There’s a shocked look on his face as he stares at you. He’s grown in size since you stepped out the door. Some of the shadows retreat back into himself.

Radio dials still stare into you. The symbols flare and dim in a never-ending cycle. Lights flicker around you once more. His ears are pressed down, almost flat.

“Alastor,” you call out for your husband, staring him down. “You forget yourself.”

One blink and one of his eyes revert. It takes a couple more blinks for the dials to disappear.

All darkness recedes back into him as he controls himself. The Radio Demon still stands before you, composed but menacing. It’s a far cry from your Alastor. It doesn’t really matter who stands before you, actually. The Radio Demon or Alastor. He’s still your husband, no matter what shade.

It’s him who still wears the ring that matches yours, and it’s that exact fact that had you lock the door behind.

“I won’t do what you aren’t asking me to do.” The words come out weaker than you expect. “I won’t leave, Alastor. Not you—not ever.”

“Go home…please,” he says, diffing his claws into the skin of his palm. “The job that allowed you to stay with me ended. There’s no reason for you to stay anymore. You are—“

“Who I am is your wife, and you are my husband,” you say, a bit colder than intended as you reach the end of your patience. “Alastor, whatever it is, we can work through it. Was it…Was it something I said?”

“Go home.”

“Stop.” You ran a hand over your feathers, smoothening the ones that stick out. “You are my home, and there’s nowhere else for me to go but to you.”

One hand reaches out, beckoning him closer.

His shoulders relax, uncoiling the tension. The smile on his face turns softer. Every step the Radio Demon takes turns him back to Alastor, and Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking them on his own.

Alastor places your hand on his cheek, nuzzling himself into your palm.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind.” Your thumb goes up and down his cheek. “It’s you who always leaves.”

Alastor takes another step towards you, leaning even closer. “Then this is your chance to leave me.”

“You cannot make me.”

“I don’t want to see you,” he growls. It’s funny how his words tell you to leave, but Alastor pulls you closer to him, pressing his head on your shoulders. “Why bother to stay when I don’t want you here with me.”

Why?

That’s the question, isn’t it? Such a simple question can be answered with such a simple response. It’s the most natural thing you’ve ever had to say to him. It’s not difficult at all, not when it’s inscribed on your very soul. The only problem was finding the courage to do so.

You take his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

Alastor takes a step back, a step away from you. The grip you have on his coat tightens, keeping him close.

“Don’t run away from this,” you tell him, trying to show him a smile. “Please, Alastor… I beg you. It almost broke me when you died. My mornings and nights bled into a dullness when you did not return to me. I don’t think I’ll be able to repair it if you force me to leave.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down. “You will find a way.”

You stare into him, the smile on your face falling. If your eyes could turn into radio dials, they would.

“I love you,” you repeat, clutching the lapels of his coat. “Damn you, Alastor. I love you in ways you cannot understand. I love you in ways I don’t know how to express because of how much it overflows.”

Alastor stares into your eyes. Thoughts run through his mind, but you cannot decipher a single one. It’s his silence that stings the most.

“You are a piece of my heart.” The words come out quickly… desperately. “No number of stitches will be able to repair me.  I will scar because of you.”

“Then leave.”

You crash your head into his chest, pulling yourself into his hold. Alastor snakes his arms around your waist, dropping into you.

There it is again. The words he says differ from the actions he takes.

“You have said a myriad of insults. I’ve heard you say that you don’t want me…that you don’t care for me … but not once have I heard you asked me to leave,” you say, clutching the fabric of his coat. “I will leave if you truly wish we gone, but first you have to ask me to do so.”

Once more, silence is the reply he cares to give you.

“Damn you, Alastor. Say something—Ask me to leave you!” you exclaim. There’s a part of you that wants to scream at him. Make him hurt until he gives you another expression besides that permanent smile of his. “Tell me to leave, and I will do so. I will vacate the home we built and return the ring you gave me.”

There’s a box inside your pocket. It’s not exactly your most precious item, but it’s what’s inside that matters to you the most. You take it, and slam it against his chest.

Alastor takes the box, opening it to take a look inside. His eyes widened as he stared at the item. The box only holds one item—the paper ring he used to propose to you. It’s a very, very, old piece of paper. The most precious piece of paper in your world.

“I will forge the vows you made and forgive the vows you are breaking,” you tell him. It’s been a long day, a too long day. You press your head on his chest, leaning into him. “Rip yourself from my very being, then and only then will I leave you.”

“This is yours.” Alastor closes the box around your fingers, gripping it tightly around his own. “Whether you want it or not—it’s yours.”

Your nails dig into the wood of the box. “Are you asking me to leave?”

“I don’t want you here,” he says, weakly. “How much cleared do I need to be to get it in your thick skull?”

Anger burns through your body. “Are you asking me to leave?”

Silence. That’s all he gives you. Alastor’s lips twist, even as a smile paints his face. The hand around your waist tightens.

“Answer the question, my love,” you say, almost mockingly. “Come on. This is it. Ask me to leave and I wil—”

Alastor grabs your shoulders, and another pulse of power flows out of him. “I cannot cut you out!”

“And you think I can?” you exclaim, gripping his coat. “Do you think that I could hurt you like that? That I would be willing to leave you?”

Alastor pulls himself away from your hold to walk across the room. Once more, his back faces towards you as he runs a hand across his hair. His hand trails down to his mouth, covering it as he takes one single deep breath.

You will him to find his voice.

(You hope he never does.)

Alastor reaches out for you.

A single step back. That’s all you take, but his ears droop lower. It forces you to look at everything except him. What expression is Alastor making now? Part of you never wants to know. “What do you want to ask me?”

A soft click of a dial and music fills the air.

Alastor tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him. There’s a smile on his face when he swipes his thumb across. “May I have this dance?”

Once more, he holds a hand out, and you find yourself accepting him.

Alastor plays with the tips of your fingers before taking it in his hold. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The music builds, and his grip on you tightens even more.

Alastor takes the lead on this dance. Foot forwards. Back. When was the last time you’ve done this? Every beat of the music has you dancing across the room. The pace of his movement picks up with the music. Alastor tightens his grip on your hand, swinging you backwards, dipping low, then soaring into the air. He doesn’t stop twirling you until you’re laughing in his arms, a wide smile painted on your lips.

Music flows into your body, replacing any hurt or anger. It doesn’t seem to matter. Not when Alastor presses you oh so close into him, dipping you forward and looking into your eyes. He’s here. You’re here. That’s all that matters.

Alastor grips your waist, lifting you into the air and lands you on one of the tables.

The firm grip around your waist lingers when he takes his spot between your legs. Alastor presses his head on your shoulders, leaning into you. Just a moment here. That’s all you need, and maybe that’s all he needs as well.

He takes both your hands, intertwining them with his own. The rings around your fingers press against each other. Alastor squeezes your hand. “Will you stay?”

You squeeze back. “Of course.”

He presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “Even if I cannot give you what you deserve?”

“I don’t need you to give me anything,” you tell him, connecting your foreheads together. “I’m living the life I wish to live. Throughout the Earth…no, not just Earth, but in Heaven and Hell as well, there is nothing more perfect in this universe than when I am with you.”

You press a hand on his chest, steading yourself to place a kiss on his cheek.

Huh…that’s weird. It’s wet.

There’s a wet spot on his chest, and it seeps into your palm. You retract your hand even as Alastor tenses for a moment. Oh…there’s blood on your hand.

Blood?

Realization hits you with its cold, cold, grip.

You push him away, halting the moment. Alastor shakes his head, reaching out for you once more. You grab his coat instead, pulling on it like a madwoman. The grip you have on him tightens as you sloppily claw the coat off his body.

The frenzy only stops when it slips off his shoulders and off his arm. It gets thrown away, somewhere irrelevant at this moment. You grip his dress shirt, practically ripping off the buttons to expose his chest.

Jagged stitches run across a fresh and bleeding wound. Green threads sow his skin together. It’s sloppily stitched together.

One hand reaches out to touch him, but Alastor catches your wrist.

“Alastor…,” you say, and his name leaves your lips in a whisper. “What did you do to yourself?”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

There’s sadness written across all over your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and in the way your eyebrows furrowed together.

There are times where Alastor believes himself to be heartless, incapable of emotions that don’t serve his own self-interest. You always seem to prove him wrong. There’s a part of him that screams, begging him to turn away because every drop of your lips is a knife into the heart that he obviously owns. Alastor isn’t allowed to look away, not when it’s him who placed that frown on your lips. It’s because of him that your shoulders are dropping with a sad, sad, look on your face.

Alastor smiles at you. “It’s only a few hours old.”

A small laugh spills out your lips. Experience tells him it’s not because you found his joke funny. “Don’t…” You shake your head, staring at him with a hollow expression. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

There really isn’t anything else to do but nod.

There’s a couch in this room. It’s one of the many new pieces of furniture in the hotel. You grab his hand, pulling him to the couch. Alastor follows your every command, taking a seat when you push him down the cushions.

“I need scissors,” you tell him, plain and simple. The sadness locks away, replaced by an icy look. “Scissors, Alastor.”

He snaps his fingers and any tools you would ever need appear next to you.

It’s simple work, really. You snip the threads he forced into himself, exposing his wound once more. Pain flares across his whole body as you pull his stitching away. There’s gentleness in the way you work through him, even as apathy steels your face.

You hover your palms above his wound.

Alastor grabs your wrist, taking your hands away from his wound. “Don’t…,” he says, and his ears flatten his head. “Please…don’t do it. Not for me.”

“Let me do this one thing for you,” you tell him, voice low and barely a whisper. “Please just let me do this one thing. That’s all I’m requesting, and I will do whatever it is you want me to do after.”

Once more you hover your palms above his gaping wound, and Alastor doesn’t have the resolve to deny your request.

Decades of marriage. Decades of time together. Alastor taught you how to use magic, and right now he regrets his choice. Life energy flows out of you and straight into his body. It’s one of the simpler things he’s taught you.

The wound on his chest mends, as cells and tissue bind together to leave only one long scar.

You try to stand, but the joints on your knees buckle. Alastor catches your shoulders, steadying you next to him on the couch. There’s a far look on your face. Was it too much? Did healing him take too much from you? There it is again. His selfishness has damaged you.

Finally, you glance at him. One hand reaches out for him, and it pulls his head on the soft plush of your lap. Your fingers thread through his hair, letting the strands flow through your fingers. The pads of your thumb scratch the bases of his ears. It’s a gentler treatment than he deserves.

It’s been a long day. Could he stay here on your lap forever? The way you caress him oh so softly prompts his eyes to droop.

The first tear lands on his cheek.

It doesn’t stop at one. More tears slip out of your eyes, trailing down your cheek until they drop on his face. There’s a blank look on your face, even as tears flow.

Alastor springs up from your lap, reaching out to wipe the tear away. Oh…he did this. He made you cry. “Don’t cry for me.”

Another tear slips out. “Then stop making me cry.”

“I don’t deserve your tears,” he tells you, catching the next tear that slips out.

Your eyes flutter to a close as you accept the fact that tears are flowing down your face “You’re the only person who deserves it.”

Alastor grabs your hand, squeezing them in his hold. It’s something you’ve never said out loud, but Alastor knows you hate showing him your tears. It’s such a ridiculous thing. He would never judge your tears. To anyone else, tears would be a sign of weakness. Not for you—tears mean you cared.

“What did you do to yourself?” you say, clutching his hand tightly. “Alastor, why would you do that to yourself? I would have helped you… Do I… Do I mean so little to you?”

Alastor grabs your face, swiping the tears. “No, not at all,” he says, quickly. “You are—”

“What. Tell me what.” Your lips twist. “What am I to you Alastor? The bane of your existence? Ridiculous?”

“Yes.” These are the first words that slip out his mouth.

You stare at him, gritting your teeth. “Yes?”

“No!”

“No?” you parrot back, pulling your hand off his hold. He tries to reach for it again, but you only pull it back further. “Alastor, which is it?”

“No…,” he says, weakly… desperately. “You are my very existence, and I cannot cut you off without cutting myself as well. It’s almost as if my lips were made to say your name.”

More tears slip out your eyes, and you use your wrist to wipe them away.

“I am a selfish man, and all I can ever want is you. I would give up everything for you,” Alastor tells you, taking your hand to press himself against it. He presses a kiss on the metal of your ring. “My status… My pride. They are meaningless in the face of you. I cannot drag you down any further than I already have all because there isn’t a corner in all of hell where I can hide from you.”

Alastor’s smile falters at your silence.

For once in his life, he can’t keep the smile on his face. He doesn’t deserve to smile. What would you think when you see him smiling at your pain. The pain he causes you.

It begins to droop, and you catch it with the tips of your fingers, pushing the edges of his lip up into a smile. “A frown doesn’t suit you, my love,” you say, even as tears drop down your cheeks. “Smile for me.”

Alastor laughs instead of smiling. This dance you’ve both been doing. Ridiculous and silly. That’s what it is.

He pulls you on top of him until the both of you are spread out of the couch. Alastor kisses every tear, pulling you tighter against him. “You are my everything,” he tells you. “And I never should have done anything to make you believe otherwise. Everything I do… I do it with you in my mind and in my heart.”

You curl into him, bringing your legs closer and Alastor places his chin on top of your head. “Then why did you leave me?”

“Do you really think I would have left you willingly?” he asks you, pressing a kiss on the crown of your feathers. “I need you to know that I am doing everything I can to stay by your side.”

“I don’t know what to think.” You trace circles on his skin.

“Listen to what I’m going to say next.”

“Why?” you say. “All so I can hear you call me ridiculous?”

“No, not at all… I love you,” Alastor says, and it comes out quickly. What do you see in those eyes of yours? “I love you.”

A small smile quirks into your lips as you stare into him with eyes that crinkle. That’s better.

“It’s not a lie,” he says, desperately. “You have to believe me when I say I love you. It’s nothing but the truth because it is—I love you.”

You place a hand on his face, the pads of your thumb going up and down. “Why would I think you were lying?”

Alastor pulls you into a kiss. Usually, they’re slow as he likes to take his time to write you poems that explain how happiness flows out of him in waves. It’s you who places this seed in him and it’s you who takes care of it with gentle hands.

Alastor writes you poems with his lips. Each kiss tells you about how the sun nor the moon nor the stars can compare to the light that shines in your eyes nor can it compare to the light you ignite in his. Each movement tells you how not even water or air can be as important as existing with you in every moment across space and time.

It’s him who pulls away first. Greedy. He becomes too greedy when it comes to you.

Your eyes are still shut. He runs his thumb over your eyes, nudging you with his nose until your eyes flutter open. Oh, how they shine brighter than the moon.

There’s a box in your pocket that he pulls out. The ring was so old. The paper stains yellow and obvious fold marks crease the edges. You took care of it, all these years together and you took care of the first ring he ever gave you.

“How do you still have this?”

“Because I loved you enough to be buried with it,” you say, and your eyes crinkle at you smile. “And I loved you even more to disturb my own grave.”

“You are the most ridiculous person to ever exist with… Say it again,” he tells you, practically begging you to do so again. “I want to hear it again.”

You steal a kiss from him and it takes every inch of his self-control not to pull you right back to it. “Only if you say it as well.”

“I love you,” Alastor says and only the truth spills out his mouth. “And I will tell you I love you for the rest of eternity and beyond that as well.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Every step Alastor takes, you take.

Every corner he rounds, you round.

It’s easy to follow him when he does nothing to conceal his presence. The Radio Demon struts around town, a hand on his back and a microphone slotted around his arm, without a care in this world. His back is broader in this body, and his waist slimmer. Still, his legs take long and fast strides.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you follow him down the street.

Alastor turns right, disappearing into an alley. You hop over some trash and step over some blood, and follow the Radio Demon into an alley.

The moment you step deeper into the shadows, tendrils snake up your leg, and around your waist and wrist. They hoist you into the air, tightening around you as they squeeze painfully. You try to pull away, but its grip on you tightens.

Alastor steps out of the shadows, a permanent smile on his lips.

You smile back at him, letting out a blissful sight. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he says and steps further into the light. Tuffs shoot out of his head, and part of your wonders if those were his ears. Dear god, there are itty-bitty antlers on his head. (They’re too cute.)

“Hello?” you parrot back, making a face. “Like a knife straight into the heart! You wound me, sweetheart.”

Alastor’s smile shifts until you see the yellow in his teeth. It’s a snarl. A barely noticeable one, but it’s there. It’s in the way his cheeks strain and in the way his chest puffs out further. The stitches on the side of his mouth flare as he smiles at you.

The tendrils tighten and you grit your teeth. “This is new,” you say, trying to keep your smile. “You should be careful with those. My husband gets oh so terribly jealous.”

Alastor leans on his microphone. “You’ve been following me all day.”

His bowtie is crooked. Even in hell, Alastor still wears a bowtie. You point towards it, even if the tendrils around your wrist limits movement. His eyes slide down to it, and he fixes it himself.

“Oh darling…I’ve been following you for the last three months,” you tell him, still trying to pull free from the bondages around you. “That’s alright. I always was better at following you. I even followed you all the way here. Ha!”

“Are you a fan?”

Your face scrunches and you recoil as if you’ve been shot. “A fan?” you exclaim, trying not to gag. “That’s twice you’ve managed to insult me.”

Something flickers through Alastor’s mind.  It’s a quick flash. Whatever he thought of has him laughing out loud. It’s breathy and light, and one of the best things you’ve ever heard. Oh, how you’ve longed for the sound of his laughter.

Alastor’s fingers tighten around his microphone as he forces himself to stop laughing. There’s a steely look on his face, as he digs his nail into his skin. It’s almost as if he’s surprised.

“How delightful!” he says and you doubt he actually believes that. “It seems I have been entertained. Shall we strike a deal? Tell me what you want and it shall be yours…for a price, of course.”

“I hope you don’t go around flirting like that with every lady you see—I get rather jealous as well.”

He glares at you.

You show him your most innocent smile.

There it is again. Something flickers in his mind. Alastor studies you for a moment, and the restraints loosen around you. His eyes widened. It’s barely noticeable—a quick lift of his eyelids in surprise.

After the initial shock, the tendrils tighten on your body, and you yelp, pushing away as it squeezes on you.

“Alastor, stop!” your cry out, leaning away to try and get even a semblance of space. It hurts…but… uh… in an exciting way. Part of you wonders if he still wears sleeve garters—you hope he does. (You need to keep it together.) “I’ll let you know that this hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“Good.”

“Ooooh, I do love it when you flirt with me.”

“If you value your life, I suggest you stop your game,” he hisses out. His smile wobbles for a second before they widen into a snarl as his eyes darken. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you. I’m losing interest by the second and I’m in need of a new voice for my radio.”

You cough a bit, trying to clear your throat. It’s quite warm today. “I think you would be interested in my name.”

Alastor snorts like you’ve said something funny, but his ears flicker a bit. There’s interest written all over his face, and only you can see it. Hmmm, maybe a little bit of hope as well? He taps his fingers on his microphone. “Why should I care for your name?”

“Because you made a vow.”

His teeth clench, and a muscle on his cheek tightens. The tendrils around your body lower you gently, only slithering away when your feet safely touch the ground. Still, they hover closely as you regain your balance. It’s as if they stay close just in case you fall over, ready to hoist you.

Red marks imprint your wrist from where the tendrils squeezed.

“Go on,” he says, and his eyes flicker to the marks on your skin. “You have one chance to keep my interest.”

You tell him your name.

Your first name, and the last name he shared with you. “…Pleasure to be meeting you!” One hand rests on your chest, and the other shoots to the air. It’s the bow you would do in high-school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow. “Quite a pleasure!”

Alastor stares at you for a moment. Those red eyes of his flicker to you, taking in… well, you. It takes a moment for him to respond. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Your smile remains constant, even as a small laugh escapes you. “And why would that be?”

You extend a hand out to Alastor, beckoning him closer.

 He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. The more steps he takes, the more steps you take. It’s like a dance that only stops until you’re a breath away. Alastor inches even closer, studying the grooves of your new face.

He presses a hand on your face, and you lean into his touch. There it is again. Even in this new body, his thumb goes up and down the skin of your cheeks. And even in this new body, it still feels the same. It still feels like Alastor.

Your eyes close, letting yourself feel his touch.

Alastor says your name as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes?” you say.

Alastor’s hands trails down until it wraps around your wrist. You wince a little when you feel his fingers. “I shouldn’t have done this to you,” he says. He holds them gently, cradling them as he brings his lips on the inside of your wrist. “My dear.”

“Yes?” You pull your wrist from his hold, and press a small kiss on his cheeks. It’s a silent act.

“My love.”

Another kiss on the other side of his cheek. “I’m right here.”

“Dearest.”

A kiss on the edge of his mouth. You allow your lips to linger on him, brushing him with a soft reply. “Yes?”

“My, most, dear.” Alastor pulls you closer. His nose nudges you, poking you a little. “My, only, dear.”

“Yes?”

Alastor says your name again and again, and you respond again and again. He brushes some feathers away from your face, taking a long and good look at you.

His breath mixes with your as inches of space separates your lips. Just a moment…that’s all you need. Just a single moment to feel his presence before you could lose yourself into him.

Once, someone told you the moment before the kiss was more magical than the kiss itself. It’s in the fluttering eyes, the soft intakes of breath, and the feeling of hands tightening around your waist. Intoxicating. That’s the only word that could even come close to the way Alastor tortures you.

They would be correct, if they weren’t so wrong.

He takes half a step closer, and the distance disappears. It forces your eyes to shut, the feeling of his lips too overwhelming to keep it open. A new set of lips places kiss after kiss, but the movements are all the same. It still feels like your husband.

His thumb brushes your cheek. The other hand pulls you closer to press you into him, and you slot perfectly, as if you were made to fit him.

Alastor takes his time, kissing you softly as he writes you a poem with only the taste of his mouth.

He pulls away first, and for once in your life there isn’t an urge to pull him right back in. That’s alright. There will be an eternity of moments like this. Maybe your lifetime with him wasn’t with the living, but with the dead.

Alastor’s thumb brushes over your eyelids, a silent request to open them. There’s no other option but to flutter your eyes open because there’s no option to deny him, not when he holds your heart.

Red eyes stare into you. They’re no longer brown, but they still shine brighter than starlight.

“Hi,” you say once more.

Alastor smiles at you. “Hi.”

You pull him into a hug, and Alastor curls into your hold, resting his head on your chest. He’s taller in this body, so his back has to bend to fit your hold. His hands curl around the fabric of your blouse as he pulls himself closer.

The joints of your knees begin to buckle. Alastor tightens his already tight grip on you, keeping you steady. Home. He still feels like home.

Every breath he takes raises his chest up and down, and it grounds you to this world like a lifeline. Alastor… oh your precious Alastor. He’s here. You’re here. You and him. Him and you.

“You were wrong by the way,” you say, sinking into him.

Alastor looks up at you, catching your gaze because it was only ever his to catch. “What?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. So, we have reached the ending. Gosh I did not think we would ever reach here. This is like my first ever full fic and I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who clicked on this story and gave me a change to share a story with all of you. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @thehiddenvase @stclen-sweethearts @obessivlyonline @inthemiddle0feverywhere

[blueberrymocha]

texting them

gon

✰ he didn’t grow up with much technology

✰ and he def did not have a phone

✰ so since he isn’t in the habit of using it often, your messages are all on delivered

✰ he also prefers to live in the moment instead of checking his phone all the time

✰ unfortunately for you that means you’re better off calling the person he’s with if you need to reach him

✰ once you talk to him about it though, he’ll be sure to answer within a couple hours

✰ he’d save your contact as a pet name, personally i can see him using “sunshine” or “honey” for you

✰ you’d be pictureless until killua points it out to gon and explains that you can add pictures to someone’s contact

✰ but once he does learn he’ll use a cute coupley picture of you guys from one of your first dates

✰ would have trouble deciphering your abbreviations

“btw ur gna be back asap right?”

“huh.”

✰ its fine, he prefers to call (loves to hear your voice) anyways

killua

✰ y’all would be so mischievous together

✰ prank calls as a weekly ritual

✰ you’re mostly safe from them but don’t think he’ll never do it to you

✰ probably won’t text you first but always responds within the minute

✰ would only call if he’s checking up on you, like when you’re sick or he’s on an adventure

✰ will use the most abysmal, disrespectful picture he has of you

✰ your name on his phone is either an inside joke or an insult like “sleeping ugly 🧚‍♀️” (he’s out for blood omg you overslept once)

✰ i just know alluka is confused af

✰ he’ll change it to something else whenever you see it, which you will eventually

“y/n can you check my phone?”

“sure! babe why is my name ‘dumbass’ heart emoji, wizard emoji?”

kurapika

✰ you can see this one from a mile away…

✰ his phone always got that silent mode + dnd + texts muted combo

✰ he does all that but would fully expect you to pick up if he called you

✰ speaking of which, he would call probably daily if either of you were away

✰ never forgets an “i love you” “be safe” “see you soon” etc

✰ if something happened, would want you to know that

✰ you guys would fall asleep on calls

✰ but mostly him

✰ your contact might just be your name for a while

✰ but i could also see him using something tame like “love” or “sweetheart”

✰ hes also the type to leave you on read

✰ especially if you’re asking when he’ll be back or how his mission is going

✰ generally just keeps his work separate from home unless he needs to vent or it’s extremely relevant to you

leorio

✰ wishes he could talk more often

✰ school just keeps him really busy

✰ will be upfront with you if he needs time to study, make dinner, or anything of that nature

✰ you’d get in the habit of leaving voicemails

✰ he listens to them all and leaves some for you too

✰ also good morning and good night texts, always

✰ your picture is whatever picture of you he finds the hottest tbh

✰ your name would be a pet name such as “shorty” or “beautiful”

✰ idk why but i feel like he’d misplace his phone often

✰ so if he doesn’t respond by the end of the day, you’ll probably get a call from his roommate’s phone saying how he lost his own

hisoka

✰ lets it ring out and then calls back a minute later

✰ “oh did you need something?”

✰ this man can’t stop playing games, the call cuts off halfway through what you’re saying

✰ then he calls back again acting like it was the wi-fi

✰ don’t worry——that’s only like a quarter of the time

✰ depending on his mood, he’ll be mostly serious

✰ imagine the look on his face when he realizes you’re calling because you’re in the hospital or smth

✰ yeah so he’s better at responding now!

✰ your contact picture is gonna be from the most stalker angle

✰ like it’s just you sleeping

✰ you found that a little odd but maybe your clown just wants to capture those memories

✰ …while you’re walking home on the opposite sidewalk

✰ if you’re in a longer, serious relationship, your name is something romantic like “my dove” but it’ll take a while to get there

illumi

✰ you’d be so surprised to find that he loves to call

✰ he travels a lot as an assassin, so he needs something to do

✰ would always text you formally it’s scary

“have you arrived at the manor yet, y/n? be sure to notify me immediately once you do.”

✰ he’s giving you customer service type responses

✰ you’ll also get updates about his missions

“i’ve just finished killing the target, expect to see me home in four days”

✰ the contact is just your name and if you convince him, he’ll add a picture of your choice

chrollo

✰ has like six phones

✰ if you didn’t know he was the leader of a gang you might‘ve thought he was cheating

✰ you also have the numbers of most of the spiders

✰ so if he ever has to disappear (like after yorknew) they’ll be sure to let you know what’s going on

✰ he’ll text you a few times a day if he’s able to

✰ would ask about your day and remind you to take care of yourself

✰ the conversations usually focus on you, while he listens or prompts you

✰ like kurapika, doesn’t want to involve you in troupe business so it’s very rare for him to even mention them

✰ he doubts you even want to hear about how he robbed an old man today, or killed a woman who didn’t hand over a jewel

✰ on his top secret personal phone, he’ll give you a contact photo with both of you in it

✰ your name would be a classy pet name, maybe “princess” or “beloved”

[sebsxphia]

Jake Seresin would call you Bambi cause you walk like a newborn fawn after he's done with you.

"Bambi. My Bambi."

He would mutter under his breath, watching with a self-satisfied smirk as you struggle to the bathroom. Of course, he'll join you in a second to help you off the toilet and to fill the bath, can't leave his best girl struggling. But for now he's drinking in the view for a few more seconds.

But apparently his remark was loud enough for you to hear, because you look at him over your shoulder with what he is sure would be one of the glares that would send him six feet under if you had that power. But because you don't and because your newly fucked, it does not have the desired effect.

"Get up and help me, Seresin."

"Yes ma'am."

He follows the order anyways because your adorable and it really scratches a certain type of itch in his brain to pick you up and carry you into the bathroom, only to soak in a rose-smelling bath until the water gets cold with you after he just rocked your shit.

"Bambi's gotta 'ttude."

He says, snorting at his own words. You smile up at him blissfully, still held in his strong arms, and stroak his cheek with shaiky fingers, you peck his jawline.

"Your so cute."

" 'm not cute."

He grumbles, yanking up the toilet lid and setting you down before backing up a bit and putting his hands on his hips. Dad Stance Seresin, everybody.

"Do you need water or can you pee now?"

"I can go now. And you are cute. My cutie through."

Jake purses his lips, "you won't say anything in front of the squad?"

You shake your head, "nope."

"Promise."

"Pinky promise, Jay."

You hold up your pinky. Jake smiles, it's a wide, boyish, kiddish smile that you've only seen when his family came to visit a few months back and he was playing like there was no tomorrow with his nieces and nephews.

"I'm your cutie."

He says quietly, in a shy voice and pecks your forehead, moving past you to start the water for the bath. A light blush on his cheeks. You make a sound of protest, and he turns back. You pull him closer and cup his cheeks, esskimo kissing him, "my cutie." And peck his lips before releasing him. Jake stares at you for a few seconds, remaining in his crocheted stance before attacking your face with kisses and muttering on about how adorable you are.

OH MY GOD, PLEASE! THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING IVE EVER READ WITH JAKE 🥺🥹 because! because! you know how much i love and adore the nickname, bambi! the sweet domestication of it all and how he carries you to the toilet to help you pee! the cute defiance to being called cute! calling him jay! the pinky promise and his boyish little grin! the flurry of kisses! omg. i’m literally so in love with this, my dear anon 🥹 i’m going to be thinking about this forever. i could see this play out so clearly. he’s so dreamy! thank you so much for this sweet thought! 🥹💌

[tamayakii]

a son for a son.

notes: I changed a thing or two of what happened in the show, basically putting Maelor in cause i still cant believe they didnt put him in it (same thing with Daeron) this can be read as a stand-alone fic or paired with the Their Angel series. pairings: Otto x reader (romantic), Helaena x reader (can be viewed as one sided or platonic) warnings: Otto & reader have a son, SPOILERS FOR HOTD S2;E1!!!

The candle light illuminates the room, flickering against the stone walls of your and Helaena’s chambers. You had moved into her living spaces the night that Aemond had come back from the Stormlands, a sick smirk upon his face as he waltz into the small council room.  

And when your husband had shown no remorse for your brother's actions, no sympathy for your dead nephew? You couldn’t stand to look at him, matter of fact, you couldn’t bear to look at anyone. The grief toppled upon the hatred you had towards everyone who had played a part in usurping your sister’s throne. 

The twins and Maelor were already asleep within their beds, and your own son blinks his big owl-ish eyes at you. He looked so much like his father, even at two years old, a little wisp of white tangled within his brown locks- almost emulating Otto’s salt and pepper hair.

“Why can’t I..?” Alerion fumbled over his words, tiny hands curling over the cotton blanket, trying to fight his heavy eyelids as they dropped low. Chuckling lightly as you brushed his hair aside, he was quite stubborn. Especially as bedtime neared and sleep hovered over him. “Because I said so, besides; don’t you want to play with your cousins on the morrow?” Your reasoning seemed to reach him, Alerion’s brown eyes slowly shutting as he murmured. Sighing, reaching around your back to unclasp your heavy necklaces, you couldn’t help but smile as your son unconsciously pulled the blanket closer. 

The recent days weighed heavily on you; the war was impending. With no word from Rhaenrya, Rhaenys and Meleys helping guard the gullet with the hundreds of Velaryon ships, war was going to burst like a bloated goat. 

Perhaps if you were more active in the small council, you would’ve stopped the rats that sat in those seats. Staring at the necklace as you set it down, dark jade glimmering in the light. Helaena’s soft reflection reflected in the deep sea of green. It hits the table with a soft thud.

As you hear steps incoming, you simply assumed it was Helaena. She always had a sense for when you were upset, coming to you like a doe, with her big purple eyes and soft face filled with worry. 

Or perhaps she came to take you to bed. Since your move, Helaena was delighted to have you close, and near-ordered that you sleep in the same bed, just as you did when she was a little girl. “Quiet! Quiet!” The voice made you turn around, and your gasp died in your throat. Fear laced through your veins like a snake coils around its prey, freezing your body like the north. 

A strange man holds a dagger to Helaena’s throat, her blood dripping over the steel. Her eyes were wide with fear. The man's eyes flicker over to you. “Move and I'll cut her throat.” He spits, slowly dragging the blade, causing more blood to leak. Nodding as the tears well in your eyes, heart beating against your rib cage. The blood roars in your ears like a thousand horses stampeding. 

Another man comes in, a bigger and scarier man, and your heart stops. 

“A son for a son.” His words were all muddled until he said those five words, a son for a son. Helaena offered her necklace to the men, trying to convince them to run off with its worth, but the bigger man snatched it from her. “It’s not a son.” He turns around and looks at the twins in their beds, sleeping ever so peacefully. Gently, you reached back for Alerion’s crib. Shaking hands gripping the wood with a grip tighter than death and yet you were too weak to fight these men off, in the past week and a half, you’ve neglected your meals within your grief and even if you didn’t, you’d sooner be dead on the stone floors of the Red Keep with your sons fate unknown. 

The men came to the realization that they did not know which twin was the boy, and for a brief moment you felt elated that perhaps they would give up their mission, but all hope vanished when Helaena pointed at Jaehaerys.

“Helaena..” You whisper, lips trembling and you can't help but feel bile come up your throat as the men storm to Jaehaerys, the bigger one covering his mouth, covering his scream. Helaena shakes as she makes a move to her daughter and youngest son, and you do the same.

As you hear the splatter of blood, a sob escapes your throat, your hands trembling as you hurriedly and carefully retrieve Alerion from his crib. Helaena runs out first, holding her children close to her and you’re not too long after her. 

Whilst Helaena makes a mad dash down the stairs, you run onward. Climbing up the other pair of stairs, Alerion stirs in your jumbling hold. Whining at the rude awakening and you try to shush him over your crying, 

“Shh.. shh.. Alerion,” The halls rushed past you as you ran, the skirt of your night-dress threatening to trip you. Only thoughts of protecting your own son ran through your frightened mind, fearing that perhaps he would be targeted too. 

The doors to Otto’s chambers slam open and a flurry of fabric and hair falls to the floor in sobs. The man looks at the sight bewildered, but soon he realizes it is you, his wife, that refused to look him in the eye. Surely, you had come to beg for forgiveness, having come to your senses. 

But as you look up at him, your son in your arms, cradling him like he was about to shatter- he knew something was wrong.

“They killed him.. They kill the boy!”