Tumgik
#he wasn’t the only one who did of course but HE DID THAT
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✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨
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As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v
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You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!
Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?
When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.
You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”
You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.
A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.
You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.
“What the hell am I going to do…”
Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”
Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.
“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”
You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.
“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”
“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”
Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”
The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.
“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”
“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.
You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.
You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips.
Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”
You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.
You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”
God damn it…
Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?
“Please?…”
The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.
“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.
He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”
You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.
“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”
"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"
"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"
You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."
You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."
"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."
You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.
"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."
A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"
You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.
"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."
"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.
"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."
You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.
"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"
You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.
"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.
You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.
"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."
Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"
"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"
Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."
You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."
A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."
Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.
"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."
You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.
"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.
"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.
"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."
"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"
Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."
With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.
"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.
"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.
"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.
"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!
"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.
Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.
"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."
Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."
"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.
"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.
"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.
"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.
Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"
You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"
"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."
"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"
You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"
"...Yes, please..."
Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.
"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.
"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"
"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.
"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"
Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."
You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."
A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.
"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."
"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.
"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."
You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"
Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"
"Love?" you repeated.
He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"
You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."
You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.
"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.
"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"
You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"
You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.
"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.
~~~
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WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!
Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @mel-windle @la-undercover-latina
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kemistre · 14 hours
Text
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εïз┊𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 — feat. bokuto kotarou, miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, sakusa kiyoomi, suna rintarou
synopsis. seeing your other half shirtless is a normal part of a relationship, but how do they react when it’s your first time seeing him without his shirt on?
— content warnings. suggestive, shirtless 2D men, pet names (baby, darling, angel, pretty baby), kiyoomi is shirtless & pantless ;) — word count. 890
εïз┊author's note. posting this gem again for funsies and i literally cannot stop thinking about every single one of these men :3
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εïз┊b. kotarou
he couldn’t help but text you as he opened the door to his apartment. after sakusa’s spike to his stomach, he needed to tell you not only how cool it was, but how much it hurt. it wasn’t long after his last text that you were at his doorstep, gladly being invited in by his voice echoing throughout the small apartment. “ko?” “baby!” he popped out from the doorway of the bathroom, a giant smile on his lips. his legs moved on their own as he approached you, his instinct to kiss you upon seeing your beautiful face. he cupped your cheeks, his lips grazing over your own before he pulled back, your cheeks hotter than they usually are. his head tilted in confusion as he stood there half-clothed, his chest—his abs—put on display just for you. “baby? are you still in there..?” he knocked lightly on your head, completely clueless of the effect he had on you.
εïз┊ m. atsumu 
a sigh fell from his lips as he threw his jersey to the side, practice had been tough on him recently. though, he couldn’t figure out why that was. he was just so stiff, and his sets were lacking, it had stressed him out. of course you knew that, he couldn’t not tell you what was going through his mind. he huffed as stretch his back, putting his arms above his head. his eyes found the mirror above his dresser, a small smirk appearing on his lips as he looked at the body he’d made for himself. “h-hey ‘tsumu, i brought food..” his attention was now on you who stood in the doorway of his bedroom with food in hand, it was evident by your face you were flustered, and he knew why. he smiled, stepping towards you with dark eyes. “well thanks angel.” he took the food from your hands, quickly giving you a kiss on the cheek. he smirked, his lips grazed your own before he let out a breathy chuckle. “like what ya see? first time if i remember correctly.”
εïз┊ i. hajime
he let the water slide down his throat, quickly wiping the sweat from his forehead after his morning run. he sighed, setting the bottle onto the kitchen counter as he pulled his tank top over his head before throwing it over his shoulder. you said you were going to stop by earlier in the morning, though he figured he’d have time to shower, make the two of you lunch, and be able to hang out the rest of his day off. thoughts of what to make you filled his head as he opened the fridge. “you look a little sweaty, haji.” you giggled, making him turn to you as you eyed him. he grew flustered at your sudden appearance. “i thought you were coming over later..” “i told you i was on my way.” now that you mentioned it, he did feel his phone buzz in his pocket, though he never got around to checking it. after that moment, after your little smirks towards him the rest of the night there was no way he was going to live down your teasing. he just hoped you wouldn’t tell oikawa.
εïз┊s. kiyoomi
his wet hair dripped water onto the bathroom floor, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. his curly hair covered his face, his towel loosely wrapped around his waist as water droplets slid down his chest. the steam from the hot shower dispersing through the crack in the bathroom door. with a little shake of his head, he pushed himself up from his hunched over position at the sink, and pulled open the door, the cold air hitting him suddenly. goosebumps appeared on his skin as he threw his towel over his hair, hoping to not get the floors of his bedroom soaked. he paused as he looked through his drawers, hearing a small creak of the floorboards. his eyes flickered towards his door, where — to his shock — you stood. “darling? what-” “sorry omi!” you yelled, your voice cracking as you slammed the door. he flinched at the loud noise, you reaction confusing him until he realized where his towel wasn’t. he slammed his head against the edge of his dresser, his face turning bright pink as his eyes grew wide.
εïз┊s. rintarou
he laid on his bed, spread out on his back as a hand was set gently on his bare stomach, another holding his phone as he scrolled through tiktoks, trying to waste the time away so you’d get there sooner. and it worked, you finally strolling your way through the doorway. his eyes flickered towards you for a moment, then back to his phone as he scrolled to the next video. “what are you watching, rin?” he let out a small hum, glancing up at you from where he laid. your face grew hot, this being the first time you’d seen your boyfriend without a shirt on. a smirk made its way to his lips, he knew, and you knew he knew your body was heating up. he dropped his phone next to his head, quickly pulling you onto the bed with him, making you fall onto of him as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of you neck. “y’know you like seeing me half naked, pretty baby.”
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taglist :: there's none at the moment but just send me a message to my inbox if you wanna be tagged :3
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envysparkler · 2 days
Text
It had been a regular Friday—normal patrol, doing the rounds, Bruce hovering over all of them in spirit because he was laid up with a sprained ankle, and, of course, interrupted by a wannabe Rogue that was either insanely dangerous or ridiculously stupid.  Or, as in tonight’s case, both at the same time.
Magic.  Wondrous, terrible magic.  There was a reason Batman did his best to keep magic out of Gotham.  It was too unpredictable and they were all only human.  Their sole defense against magic was to dodge.  And keep dodging.  Damn, this guy was really fast at casting spells.
Dick hadn’t been paying much attention to his spiel—something something power something something Gotham something something everyone will know my name—because he’d graduated the point where he wasn’t the one who had to do the detective work—that was what younger siblings were for—and he merely calculated the height of those hanging lights and if one would crash and hit the magician if he cut them properly.
There was a yelp as Red Robin and Robin accidentally dove in the same direction to avoid a spell and ended up sprawling out on the ground.  Dick was on the other side of the magician, too far to help, but Red Hood stepped forward, growling, “Hey, you Hogwarts reject, did you learn aim from the Imperial Stormtroopers?”
Dick marked another point in Hood’s I-swear-we’re-not-family-fuck-off-Dickhead-or-I’ll-shoot-you-and-also-if-you-get-shot-I’ll-kill-you-myself column.  At this point, the only person who probably still believed Hood’s protestations of rebelliousness was Bruce.
Hood fired a warning shot from his gun.
The magician attacked on instinct.
Hood didn’t get out of the way fast enough.
Everyone in the warehouse saw the gray beam of light hit Hood square in the chest.  Dick’s heart dropped somewhere below his stomach, Red Robin made a sharp cry, and even Robin took a step towards Hood, though it was already too late.
Hood’s figure winked out.
No, something in Dick screamed, already whirling towards the magician—and was stopped by a tiny, scratchy little meow.
Dick swiveled back.  There was an unbelievably small baby kitten on the ground where Hood had just been, all black with a tiny little spot of white on his forehead.
Red Robin made a choked sound.  Robin had frozen in place.  “Oops,” the magician said, sounding distinctly sheepish.
Before anyone could react, the magician disappeared with a crack.
“Hood?” Dick tried, struggling to keep his voice level.  The baby kitten made another sharp cry, and took a tottering step forward.
Dick couldn’t control himself anymore.
“Oh my god.”  He was so tiny.  He could fit into Dick’s palm.  Maybe-Hood hissed when Dick scooped him up, putting up a valiant effort to gnaw Dick’s fingers off even if those teeny tiny little teeth—and that little pink tongue—could barely put a dent in Dick’s gloves.
“Is that really Hood?” Red Robin said, a strange expression on his face, like Christmas had come early and he wasn’t ready to believe it.  “What if—what if the guy just…sent Hood somewhere, and replaced him with a kitten?”
“It would be an improvement,” Robin muttered.
Probably-Hood stopped chewing Dick’s fingers to shoot Robin the dirtiest look a baby kitten could muster, and Dick could see the consternation visibly melt off of Robin’s face as his baby brother resisted the urge to coo.
“Even if this isn’t Hood, we need to get back to the Cave and figure out what that spell was,” Dick said, studying the kitten.  “Hmm, little guy?  Are you my little brother?  Give me a meow for yes, and continue trying to bite my fingers for no.”
Most-Definitely-Hood hissed at him again.
“This is the best day of my life,” Dick grinned.  “Bruce is going to freak out.”
~#~
Bruce was, indeed, freaking out.  “What happened?” he nearly shouted as they got out of the Batmobile, waiting in the garage—and judging by Alfred’s visible aura of disapproval, clearly against orders.
Dick, climbing out of the passenger seat, had to make a flailing catch as the baby kitten attempted to make a break for it.  “Shh,” he said.  “You’re going to scare Jason.”
Bruce stopped and stared.  Tim, exiting the driver’s side, broke down again into the giggling fit that had nearly caused him to crash the car.  Damian looked visibly amused.
Bruce blinked at the car, as if expecting a hulking six foot two former crime lord to get out.  And then looked at Dick and the tiny little kitten hissing in his hands.  Back at the car.  Back at Dick.
“What?” he finally said, voice weak.
“At least Damian isn’t going to adopt him,” Dick said, firmly detaching tiny kitten claws from his gloves to deposit the furiously hissing kitten into Bruce’s grasp.  Jason squawked, loudly, and attempted to escape, but Bruce’s reflexes were too fast.
He slowly drew the little ball of fur up to his face, face slack, ignoring the way the kitten pricked his palms.  “You’re joking,” Bruce said flatly.
“Would I joke about something like this?” Dick asked, wounded.  Bruce gave him a Look.  “Okay, yeah, I would totally joke about something like this, I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it before, but no, our little magician problem waved his staff and it hit Jay and,” Dick waggled his fingers at the puffed-up kitten.
Bruce still didn’t look convinced.
“Of course,” Dick said to the kitten, “if this isn’t Jason, that means it’s a lost little kitten that needs to go to the vet and get lots of shots—”
Jason reacted predictably to the idea of needles and neatly clambered up Bruce’s arm, clinging to the man’s shoulder and hissing at Dick from his perch.
Dick turned the shit-eating grin to his father, “Believe me now?”
Bruce was wincing and trying to extract Jason’s claws from his skin.  “Jason got turned into a cat?  How do we undo the spell?”
“Frankly, Father, I find the current state of affairs significantly more agreeable,” Damian said, returning after changing.  “You have to admit that Todd is more tolerable like this.”
The kitten didn’t have time to take offense before Tim piped up, his face still splotchy from laughing too hard, “Yeah, he’s all cute and cuddly.”
Jason made a low growling rumble that showed clearly what he thought of that sentiment.  Unfortunately for him, it just made him look cuter.
“Boys, stop teasing your brother,” Bruce said firmly, finally managing to finagle Jason’s claws free of his shirt and tuck him into the curve of his elbow.  “Of course we’re going to figure out how to get him back.”
Jason made a loud hiss and scratched Bruce.  Bruce, startled, loosened his grip, and Jason leapt free like a bullet.  Dick dove for him and missed, Tim jumped out of the way as Jason went streaking past, and soon the black kitten was no longer visible.
“Well, that was entirely predictable,” Damian said, staring in the direction Jason had gone.
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afterglowsainz · 3 days
Note
hi you said you were free to request someone you haven’t mentioned so i’m wondering if you’d be willing to write something for trent alexander arnold?? anything you won’t but i love angsty -> fluff
i look in people’s windows | trent alexander-arnold
summary: you struggle to move on from your break up with trent until one day you have to face him at your favorite coffee shop
warnings: none
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this wasn't very specific which was great (in a way) because the angst to fluff plot gave me an idea for my tortured athletes series! (i also didn't mean to make this so long, but i hope you enjoy it)
the tortured athletes department series
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you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.
you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.
trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.
so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day.  maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.
sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?
“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.
“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.
you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.
“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.
you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.
“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.
“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.
before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.
“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.
“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.
neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.
“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.
“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.
“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.
“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.
you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.
“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.
“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”
a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.
“how are you?” he repeats his question.
“good.” you lie to him. “you?”
“bad.” he says.
“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.
“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”
your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.
“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.
“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.
to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.
“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.
“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.
why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.
“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”
his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.
“i think about you too.”
your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.
“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.
“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.
“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.
“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.
at that moment you felt grateful for this little plot from destiny that had brought you and trent together again. you didn’t have to wonder ‘what if, you didn’t have to avoid seeing him downtown, you didn’t have to look into people's windows anymore. his eyes meet yours one more time, and now you know.
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icallhimjoey · 15 hours
Text
Reinvent Love
♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 
Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe
Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3
Wordcount: 4.4K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
There was something living inside of your chest.
It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.
It wasn’t okay.
Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.
But it was hurting anyway.
And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.
You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.
There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.
When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.
“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.
You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.
“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”
You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.
This was stupid.
But you were stubborn.
You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.
Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.
Yea.
Joe could just leave.
You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.
 But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.
You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.
Find Joe.
Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.
And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.
The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.
He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.
You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.
“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”
“Pause?”
“Mhm.”
Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.
Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.
Me too, Joe thought.
Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.
He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.
He’d tell you in the morning.
Joe was going to tell you in the morning.
He would.
When Joe woke up, you were gone.
Fucking figures, Joe thought.
The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.
Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.
But it was fine.
There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.
Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.
After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.
Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.
And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.
It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.
Might as well act like last night actually happened.
“Sorry about last night, mate,”
“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.
“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.
It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.
But Josh was relaxed about it.
“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”
And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?
The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.
“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.
“Ah, well… you know,”
No, actually, Josh didn’t know.
Which was good.
Joe didn’t really want him to know.
Joe didn’t really want to explain.
Couldn’t really explain.
Where the fuck would he even begin?
“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”
Joe had to suppress a smile.
Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.
“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”
Joe drank his coffee and nodded.
“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”
Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.
Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.
Josh talked where you... well, you did not.
“Did she cry?”
He wanted to know.
“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”
That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.
It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.
You split the fridge?!
What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!
When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.
Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.
Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?
Probably not, he guessed.
Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.
You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.
Fine.
Fine.
It was fine.
You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.
Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.
You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.
You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.
For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.
“Morning run?”
You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.
Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.
That was meant to mean something.
You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.
“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.
Joe followed.
“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”
It went ignored.
This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.
Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.
Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.
“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.
It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.
You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.
You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?
Felt unfair.
You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.
Joe would get the hint, you thought.
He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.
Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.
You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.
You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.
Joe tried.
He really tried.
You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.
Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.
Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.
Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.
You handled the close eye-contact fine.
Handled the cupping of your face fine.
And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.
Was there truly no budging?
Was this… was this it?
Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.
You’d never talked about that.
Had never mentioned it.
Hadn’t labeled it.
You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?
He just wanted you to talk.
You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.
The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.
Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.
Something changed.
Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.
You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.
You’d never shared a shower before.
Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.
“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.
“I know.”
“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”
And, fuck.
Something snapped into Joe’s chest.
Something swelled and popped.
He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.
“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”  
You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.
You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.
“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”
Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.
You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.
He hoped you believed him.
You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.
So he did.
It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.
Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.
He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.
Joe pushed you.
Joe had been pushing you.
He shouldn’t have.
He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?
Your lead.
Your time.
Your pace.
No more making you meet him halfway.
Joe was going to wait for you.
He would.
It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.
Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”
That made you look up at him.
“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”
And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.
“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.
“I’m right here.”
Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.
“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.
Joe saw.
Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.
“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.
“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.
“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.
“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”
“I love you too.”
Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.
“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.
You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.
“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”
And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.
You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.
It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.
It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.
It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.
It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.
You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.
Were just close, but more.
Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?
Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.
Didn’t really want to either.
As long as you knew. As long as you understood.
And you did. The proof was in the pudding.
Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.
Maybe someday, they could meet.
Have a chat.
Talk things through.
Or not.
They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?
They’d call you idiots.
And, yea you were.
But it was fine.
You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.
You were all that mattered.
Your lead.
Your time.
Your pace.
Your love.
the end
---
The Taglisted
@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,
@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,
@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,
@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,
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@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,
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@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
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lovelyjj · 19 hours
Note
hey! Can you write insecure reader who stops eating and her boyfriend JJ finds out?
I love all your works btw! 😽🫶
Insecure
jj maybank x reader
a/n: thank you and thank you so much for requesting!
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It was hard not to compare yourself to other girls. When you were at the beach all you could think about is the bodies of the other girls. They had tiny waists and long legs. Their hair was perfect and you just wished you looked like them.
The fact that you had to wear a bikini to the beach made you not want to go. Showing off your body is quite possibly the last thing you would ever want to be doing. So you would ether not go or wear a sweatshirt and say you weren’t tanning or swimming.
It was also hard to see the same girls at the beach flirt with your boyfriend. JJ would blow them off and reassure you that that you were the only one for him. JJ didn’t even glance in their direction. He was completely devoted to you. Yet you still felt like he deserved better.
All you could think about is how horrible you looked. You were far from how the girls at the beach looked, and you couldn’t help but think you were ugly. You were deeply insecure and you didn’t know how to fix it.
You felt uncomfortable in your own skin and not good enough for anyone or anything. You were tired of feeling this way, it was draining. You were also feeling hopeless. Your mind was your worst enemy. Every time you looked in the mirror you cringed. So, you tried to avoid doing that at all times.
When food was placed in front of you you would almost gag. You didn’t want to eat. It was too much. You thought maybe if you stopped eating you would become thinner and look like all the other girls with tiny waists.
You didn’t mean to it just sort of happened. You thought you were just not hungry, but then you were skipping meals. a lot of meals. You have stopped eating all together and you were hoping that you would get good results out of it.
JJ wasn’t stupid, he knew something was wrong he just didn’t know what. He noticed that he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. He also noticed that you’ve lost some weight. Of course your weight didn’t matter to him but he was concerned for your health.
The chateau was busy with all the pogues in it. They were all getting ready to go in the hot tub. You were having a dilemma because you didn’t want to get into a swimsuit. So you decided you wouldn’t go in.
“What’s up buttercup?” JJ asked.
“Nothing just chillin,” you spoke.
“How are you, seriously?” JJ asked. He was concerned about you. He was watching you decline and he hated it.
“Um m’fine,” you replied.
“I think we need to talk,” JJ put forth.
“what about?”
“I haven’t seen you eat in a long time and I’m worried about you,” JJ confessed.
You let out a deep sigh. You did not want to have this conversation right now.
“Don’t worry about it JJ,” you instructed.
“No I will worry about it because i worry about you. You’re my girl and I care about you. I’m concerned. Please baby, talk to me.” JJ begged.
“I just want to feel pretty,” tears filled your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.
“I thought maybe if I stop eating, I would loose some weight.” You looked down on the floor avoiding JJ’s eyes.
“You know I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world right?!”
“Baby please look at me.”
You did as you were told, reluctantly.
“I want you to listen to me when I say this. You’re perfect just the way you are. I love you and I love your body. I think you’re gorgeous. It breaks my heart that you don’t see it. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
You gave JJ a sad smile.
“Come here,” JJ opened his arms for you to get into.
Once you were in JJ’s arms he kissed your cheek. Then he kissed your forehead. He then kissed your temple. “My beautiful girl, love you so much!” Then he kissed your lips.
“How about I order a pizza?” JJ suggested.
“I don’t know jayj,” you shrugged.
“Come on please baby I need you to eat something for me. I don’t want you to wither away. I care about you and your health.”
“I’ll eat with you, I will even help you. If you want me too,” JJ shrugged.
“Jayj…”
“No come on, I’m ordering the pizza, end of story.”
You gave JJ a small smile silently thanking him but you were more so just done protesting. You knew JJ meant well you were just stubborn. It meant a lot to you that he cared so much about you. You thought it was sweet. You just really didn’t want to eat.
The pizza was delivered and you were dreading eating it. JJ took the pizza to his room so you could have some privacy.
“I know you don’t want to eat but i’m right here I’m not going anywhere and I want you to nourish your body.”
“okay jayj.”
JJ sat with you and helped you eat. He was understanding and considerate. He wanted to be there for you during this hard time. With JJ’s help you were able to eat something.
“There you go baby, good job! I’m proud of you,” JJ praised.
“Thank you J.”
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tarot-archives · 2 days
Text
been thinking about what if laios didn’t leave the army?
it was difficult for him but where else will he go? he doesn’t want to go back to his cold village. he can’t be with his sister who loves the magic academy. what place will accept someone like him? he’s alienated everywhere and was always an outcast.
after completing his training, he was sent on a rescue mission. some rich girl was taken, so some important guy (a king or whatever) hires a group of soldiers to save her. turns out, she was a princess and of course the impossible mission was defeating a dragon.
cliche right? honestly, from stories like those, laios always cheered for the dragon. he doesn’t care to be a dragon slayer, but here he is now inside the abandoned castle where the dragon kept its most precious jewels. all of the soldiers have died, save for him with his monster knowledge. only this time…
“please no! don’t hurt him!”
…the princess didn’t need saving from the dragon. laios was about to deliver the final blow had the princess not stopped him. after a few minutes of begging and crying the princess explained her situation. she had raised the creature ever since it was smaller. she thought it was a lizard at first until it grew. and it grew. and it grew. even when she released it into the wild, the dragon always returned sooner or later before she shoos away again.
she kept it a secret for so long, but she had to leave her kingdom since she was betrothed to some rich older creepy dude seeking a new wife. in the first night, the princess screamed for help when her ‘husband’ tried to force himself to her. her cry for help was heard by her dragon (who apparently tailed her to the rich guy’s mansion) and killed him on the spot. in panic, upon realizing the soldiers will kill the dragon, she rode its back and flew away.
now here she is, begging in front of laios not to kill her beloved companion. she doesn’t want to go back to the kingdom who sold her to a wealthy man. it might happen again. she held laios’ hand, pleading to think of some kind of plan to save her without killing him. the princess doesn’t want any more bloodshed.
this wasn’t a fairytale. the princess needed to be saved from the people. the dragon was the one protecting her. and laios wasn’t some prince or holy knight to slay something he wanted to know more about.
laios had nowhere to go. and for the first time in a long while, he had wanted something for himself— he wanted to live with a dragon too. he was envious of the princess who supposedly ‘tamed’ a ferocious creature. how did she did it? can he do it too? where can he find a dragon egg? ah, had this dragon been female she might lay an egg or give birth and he’ll raise it as his own and be some dragon tamer. falin will want to see the dragon too. can he fly on the dragon’s back to the magic academy?
eventually, all three of you managed to escape. the princess was reported to be dead and so was laios who had left his armor to be burnt.
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request? open
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shares-a-vest · 3 days
Text
Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
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“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
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lilyisclueless · 1 day
Text
When they realize they’re in love - Geto Suguru
How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. This one is for Suguru, but I eventually will do the others <3
Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader
Tags: Fluff, mentions of/implied depression
It was a few months ago when it all started. You came to him randomly one day, greeting him with a soft knock on his door before he allowed you in. He remembers almost ignoring the quiet tap tap tap but couldn’t bring himself to when he heard your angelic, timid voice. It was so unlike you to be so nervous, and despite the turmoil he was going through, he was worried.
You walked through his doors, nervously shuffling your feet as you avoided his gaze. You seemed so nervous, and he had no idea what until your words took him by surprise.
“Can… Can we cuddle? I’ve been feeling bad lately and I don’t know… if it’s okay, of course.”
How could he have refused you back then? With your cheeks a little red and shyly glancing up at him? And when he asked why him, why not Satoru, you scoffed, as if he offended you by the mere suggestion. Then you told him that you felt safe with him, and you knew he wouldn’t tease you about it or hold it against you, and he couldn’t argue with that.
It quickly became routine for the two of you to cuddle throughout the day. Any time the both of you weren’t on a mission, you were in his arms. At first, he thought he would be bothered by it, but you never spoke. You never made light conversation. The two of you enjoyed each other's company in a silent embrace. And while he was only doing it for you, a part of him needed it too after everything.
He tried not to think about it too much.
Then came the nightmares. You told him lately you’ve been having nightmares, and asked if you could stay with him. Again, how could he say no? You were on par with Satoru when it came to importance, the two of you one half to make him whole - he, himself, just an empty husk.
That was an immediate change. The first time he had you wrapped in his arms, softly breathing into his collarbone while he rested his face on the top of your hair, breathing in your sweet shampoo, it was over. He was grateful you felt the same since you came to his room on your own accord every night without him ever having to ask. Not that he would have, which is all the more reason to be grateful for you.
Part of him had been worried for you. You never spoke about what was wrong. You held yourself well, never seeming like anything was going on. Unlike him, who he felt was obvious he was falling apart by the dark circles under his eyes. You made everything more bearable, but it didn’t fix it.
At least until one night, when he thought he would have an overnight mission. He rarely did those anymore because he worried for you (and he selfishly didn’t want to sleep without you either). He managed to get through the mission a lot faster than he thought, and he came to the dorms a little before midnight. You claim that you can’t sleep without him, so he was surprised to find you snuggled up in bed and resting peacefully.
He decided he didn’t want to disturb you and left to go back to his quiet room that still smelled strongly of you. It felt so empty without you, but who was he to disturb you when you finally were able to sleep on your own? He knew eventually you would, and so he got a very, very restless sleep that night.
It wasn’t until earlier this morning he was hit with a strange realization. You’ve been lying.
It wasn’t serious or anything. You greeted him happily, surprised to see him, and told him that you missed him last night, then casually spoke about how you could barely sleep without him. You seemed pretty peaceful last night to him. You could’ve easily woken up later through the night, it wasn’t like he stood there watching you. However, maybe it was just his gut, or maybe he was just a suspicious person in general, but something told him to question you further.
He asked when you fell asleep, and you said you didn’t get any sleep until way past midnight.
He wasn’t mad necessarily. Just… confused? Perplexed? Because why lie? He later asked Shoko about your nightmares, because while you didn’t tell him things, he knew you talked to Shoko. She had no idea what he was talking about. To be fair, maybe you just didn’t talk to her either, but he highly doubted it.
So now here the two of you are, silently enjoying each other again while he tries to decipher your actions. When the two of you first started cuddling, you had been the little spoon. Somewhere along the way, you claimed that being the big spoon made you feel better. That having him lay across your chest made you feel safe, but getting to hold him and run your fingers through his hair made you feel a little less weak. Like you were protecting him. He didn’t argue with your logic, happy to oblige to anything you wanted.
So that’s how the two of you are currently; you resting against the headboard of his bed with him draped on top of you. Usually, you’d be lying on the bed with his face resting against your collarbone, but today you were in a sitting position and he was laying on his back with hush head on your lap. He was staring up at you, trying to figure you out, while you lazily ran your fingers through his hair. You’re reading a book, but you glance over it to peer down at him.
“Something on your mind?” You ask, gently pushing a strand of his hair out of his face and down with the rest of his hair.
“You don’t have nightmares, do you?” He blurts out. He didn’t mean to ask that, a part of him that he tried to ignore was scared it would all end.
You froze, your hand going stiff against his face. You stare down at him with big doe eyes, and he wonders if you would try to deny it. After a moment, you close the book you’re reading and set it aside with a sigh.
“No I don’t…”
Just like he thought. So why? Why did you tell him those excuses? It wasn’t like he was mad, but why? Before he could ask, you beat him to it.
“Please don’t be mad, I just… you’ve seemed so tired. So… gone. And anytime I tried to talk to you about it, you shut me out. And I had a feeling that I’d I asked if you needed a hug, you’d say no… so I told you I needed it instead.”
It all clicked then. He remembers the way you constantly tried to check on him. How he would always brush off your concerns, tell you ‘I’m fine’ and wave you away. It wasn’t long after that you came to him with a bad day.
It makes sense now. The way you never seemed sad. The reason why you asked to be a big spoon. How you only talked when he talked. Why you always brought his favorite snacks, and always cleaned up after - because you knew he was too depressed to keep his room clean.
You told him keeping it clean made you feel better. You told him doing laundry took your mind off things. You said you liked to cuddle in a well-made bed. It suddenly all clicked into place.
You weren’t trying to feel better and keep your mind off things. You've been taking care of him, and you had somehow convinced him that he was taking care of you.
You had been rambling for a moment now, and he vaguely heard you try to explain yourself and apologize, asking him to please not be mad. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely understand what you were saying. All he knew was that you looked so pretty like that; feeling guilty that you tricked him just so you could take care of him. Not because he asked. Not because you needed to. Because you wanted to. He could feel a strong prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest while the sensation of butterflies overtook his stomach - something he hadn’t felt before.
He quickly picks himself up from your lap, and you weakly protest against it, afraid that he is mad at you. Instead, he flips himself over so he is no longer on his back but instead his chest facing you. He grabs your waist, gently but firmly yanking you down into a lying position. You yelp his name in surprise, but he ignores you to instead bury his face into the nook of your shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, and he squeezes you tightly for a moment. Your arms linger above him, almost like you’re suddenly afraid to touch him.
“Can we keep doing this?” He asks, and he hates the way his voice almost cracks. He knows you could probably feel the slowly growing wetness seeping through your shirt, unable to stop the tears he’s been denying for so long. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so small, so broken. He knows he’s been this way for a while, but he never allowed himself to feel it like this.
Then your arms were around him again, running a comforting hand up and down his back. He accepts that it’s for him this time, and suddenly it feels so much more significant. He’s always appreciated you doing this deep down, but now? Now it feels almost healing.
“Of course. For as long as you need, Suguru. You’re not alone,” you whisper softly to him. You bury your face into his hair, and his heart leaps when you press a fleeting kiss to his soft strands.
“…And if I need you forever?” He was hesitant to say that. He’s not sure if he’s always felt this way and his emotions have just been clouding his feelings, or if the realization of how much you care about him made them suddenly appear, but saying that made it feel a little too real.
Because, fuck, he loves you.
You were quiet for a moment, and he was okay with that. Even if you didn’t care about him the way he realized he cared about you, that was fine. As long as you were near. You squeeze him a little tighter.
“I can only hope,” you mumble into his hair, and he can’t help the weak smile against your shoulder.
Maybe he would be okay. When he is, he’s going to ask you on a date.
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eleganzadellarosa · 14 hours
Text
Can’t Do It Like Me
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader
genre: Smut (you already know)
warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)
word count: 4.1K+
A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)
Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.
Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.
Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.
But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.
Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.
“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”
He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.
Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.
“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.
You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.
It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.
"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.
buzz buzz
You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.
"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.
He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."
"Oh is he an asshole or something?"
"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.
You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.
Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.
San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.
He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.
He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.
“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.
“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”
It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.
“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”
At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”
He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.
Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.
After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.
“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”
“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.
“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”
You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”
He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”
If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.
But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.
This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.
"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.
Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.
He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.
"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”
He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.
You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.
You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.
“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"
He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.
“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”
“San…” he put a finger to your lips.
“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.
So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.
A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”
He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.
“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”
He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.
Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.
“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”
You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.
“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.
He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.
“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.
As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.
“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.
“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.
“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”
“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.
He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.
“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."
He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.
“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”
You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.
There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.
“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.
San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”
He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.
“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.
“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”
You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.
"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.
The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.
"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.
"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.
By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"
He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."
"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"
"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."
And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.
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nicksbestie · 14 hours
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Inside Your Head - N. Sturniolo
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Summary : You had no way to block out the thoughts of others, and one specific person just wouldn't leave your mind.
Warnings : descriptions of migraines, 16+ content (no smut, makeout/suggestive content)
Word Count : 2,300
Pairing : Nick Sturniolo/Male Reader (romantic)
A/N : got this idea from a Pinterest prompt!
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You had a splitting migraine.
This wasn’t completely uncommon for you, and you had tried to seek out many ways to keep it from happening again. You’d tried painkillers, endless doctor appointments, sleeping more, drinking tons of water, but nothing had worked. Deep down, you knew nothing would fix it, but you were still holding out a little bit of hope that something would blanket the real reason you could never stop the headaches. You could hear the doctor’s disappointment as you explained everything that you had already tried, and you could hear the hope fade out of them. Except when you said you could hear it, it wasn’t a figure of speech like most people used. You could hear their thoughts, just like everybody else. What a bomb drop, right? 
Telepathy really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not by a long shot. Sure, it would be cool sometimes if you could choose when to hear what people were thinking, but in your case, that wasn’t possible. Or if it was, you had no idea how to do that, so you got to hear everything, which sometimes hurt your feelings much more than told you juicy secrets. Or other times, the secrets were just plain depressing. You also got to hear all of the gross thoughts, ranging from illegal things to just disgusting ones. You weren’t unattractive, so you got to hear all of the thoughts about yourself as well, but the only thing that sucked was that they all came from girls, and you swung for the other team, so it didn’t really help you out much. 
You had no idea why this had happened to you. You knew what had caused it, but not why it had affected you in this way, and most of the time, it was fucking annoying. You’d been in a traumatic accident as a child, and had suffered a lot of blunt force to your head. You didn’t remember most of it happening. Your only memory was waking up in the hospital to bright lights piercing through your mind, and hundreds of worried voices racing around. Alarm bells didn’t ring for a while, because you were so groggy that you couldn’t tell what was going on. It wasn’t until later that you heard the doctor saying that you didn’t have a high chance of full recovery, wondering why your parents had said anything, when you realized that your doctor’s mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken anything out loud. 
You didn’t know what to do, so you didn’t say anything, fear still racing through you and pain beginning to follow it as all of the medication in your veins was starting to slowly wear off. You didn’t even want to think about what had happened to you, let alone other people’s thoughts, so you’d never breathed a word about it, even now, ten years later. After all, if you walked up to someone and told them you could hear all of theirs, and everyone else’s, thoughts, who would believe you? You would probably get reported and sent somewhere for acting crazy, so was it really worth the risk? Besides, people wouldn’t want to be near you if they knew that they could never keep a single thing secret from you, even if you really, really, didn’t want to know about it. 
So here you were, sitting in your best friend’s bedroom, attempting to hang out and talk with him, but all you could focus on was the stabbing pain in your head from the bedroom on the other side of the wall, the loudest internal screaming and cursing you had ever heard. Matt noticed you rubbing the sides of your head, of course he did, but he also knew you struggled with bad headaches a lot, so he simply cut off all of the large lights in his room, trying to help you stay comfortable. He offered for you to go home if you needed to, but you had just gotten there, and you hadn’t seen each other in weeks, so there was no way you were leaving so soon. They had just gotten back to Boston from three weeks in LA, and you’d missed your friends like crazy.
You just really hoped Nick would stop fucking screaming. You didn’t need to check who was in the room, because everyone’s thoughts were in their own voices, and even if they weren’t, you’d still be able to tell that Nick was the only one coming up with such colorful words. Matt only knew that you had really bad migraines, he didn’t know what caused them, so he had no idea how to help you from here, simply letting you have your space, comfortable silence between the two of you. You could hear his thoughts as well, most of them pitying you for being in pain, and a couple about the video game he was playing. You excused yourself, stealing some of the painkillers in the bathroom cabinet, telling Matt you were going to go say hi to Nick. It wasn’t something that raised any alarms with him because you hadn’t really spoken to Nick since you had gotten there, as he was editing in his room.
You fought the urge to wince as the closer you got to Nick’s door, the louder his voice got, but as you knocked, it suddenly stopped, giving you some moments of relief. You sighed deeply, hearing the thought of “who the fuck is that?” before the door opened just a few seconds later. The smile that spread across Nick’s face was worth every moment of pain as he immediately pulled you into a hug, a happy greeting leaving from his lips. You hugged him back, smiling just as wide, hoping that if you were in here he would stop the yelling, and you really just wanted to be around him. His presence was calming, when he wasn’t losing his mind over an argument or editing a new video. 
You liked Nick. A lot, and you couldn’t deny that fact. You’d already tried so many times to pretend like it wasn’t real, that you were kidding yourself, but it hadn’t worked. He didn’t know, obviously, because how could you tell him? He didn’t even know you were gay. Figuring out your sexuality had been a recent development in your life, and thank god nobody could read your thoughts, because it was not pretty. You hadn’t told anyone, and that included all three of the triplets. So part of the reason that you were eager to hang around Nick was just due to the fact that you had a massive crush on him. Sitting down on his bed after finally making it through the doorway, you couldn’t help the fact that the smile didn’t leave your face. 
“You seem frustrated, what’s wrong?” 
Nick shook his head, smiling and gesturing towards the screens he had been editing on.
“This new video is being a pain in the ass to edit, and I’m about at my limit, even though it’s supposed to go up tomorrow.”
You shrugged, laying down and setting your phone down next to you.
“So do it tomorrow, then.” 
He looked at you with an incredulous smile, laying down next to you.
“You’re a terrible influence, my career will go downhill if I listen to you.” 
You laughed, stealing his phone and unlocking it before posting stupid pictures on his Close Friends story that he would probably have to delete later. He laughed with you, taking it back from your hands and posting a ridiculous photo on his public story of the two of you, knowing you were a known figure in his fanbase, so it wouldn’t cause too much uproar.
“I’m a wonderful influence, thank you. You’re clearly stressed, so just take a break, you’re allowed to relax for a bit. I think you should just stop for the day and hang out with me, I fucking missed you.”
“I missed you too, how have things been here?” 
A conversation panned for the next thirty minutes, both of you talking about the different things you had done while in different states, and thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t until you were halfway through a sentence when a thought popped through, and despite it being in Nick’s voice, you had to take a second to figure out if it was your imagination. 
“I really want to kiss him right now.” 
You had gotten another quarter of the way through your sentence before what you had just heard hit you, and you paused. Nick noticed, because he had been watching your face and listening intently, but if you had been able to see yourself through his eyes, you would’ve only seen your lips. He had really only been focusing on those, admiring the way you could spin and tell a story, while he had his supposedly secret thoughts about being able to do more with your lips than just listen to them speak. When you paused, he did too, looking concerned. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing, sorry, just had a brain blank.”
You couldn’t tell him. There was no way that you could just spit that out, but as you continued to tell your story, he unintentionally caused you to stop again. 
“He reacted as soon as I thought about kissing him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he could read my mind or something fucking insane like that.”
You covered your shock with a cough, but your cheeks definitely flushed. 
He wanted you the same way you wanted him. 
But you weren’t going to do anything about it, not right this second, at least. You were going to let it sit for a while, because maybe it was just a fluke, an intrusive thought that he hadn’t pushed to the side just yet. But when yet another one of Nick’s thoughts spun around in your head, you didn’t want to wait any longer.
“He’s blushing, what the fuck, why does he look so pretty when he’s blushing?” 
You love to talk, but you swear you had never wrapped up a sentence quicker, just quietly staring at him. He laughed awkwardly, just looking back at you.
“What?” 
“Nothing, I just…” 
You trailed off, staring at Nick’s face, a smile still covering yours, but not an awkward one, one of relief, the stress of concealing a crush no longer on your mind. 
“You just what?” 
Nick still seemed slightly confused, but he had a gentle smile on his face as well, albeit his eyes looking a little concerned. There were a lot of thoughts running around your head, but the main one was: when were you going to get another chance like this? It was that exact question playing on repeat in your mind that caused you to close the small gap between the two of you, gently but firmly pressing your lips against his, one hand holding his. You could hear his mind go completely silent, and you were scared for a moment, wondering if you’d done something wrong, but just as you were about to pull back, Nick’s free hand flew up to cup the side of your face, kissing back, much rougher than your original kiss. This one was full of desperation, longing, the movement of his lips against yours saying everything that his words hadn’t been able to for however long. Pulling back, both of your lips red and gasping in breaths of air, he looked shocked but happiness lit up his eyes.
“You’re an even better kisser than I thought.” 
You softly laughed, staring at him before putting your hand on his face, mirroring yours, and pulling him back in. You’d been daydreaming about this for ages, there was no way you were going to just let it end with only one kiss. You both tried to take control of the kiss, but Nick eventually won, deepening it as he felt you go lax against him. Your mind went completely blank, shutting everything out, lost in the feeling of the man you’d wanted for what felt like forever up against your body. You didn’t process anything happening until you realized Nick was over top of you, only breaking your kiss to breathe before reconnecting the two of you. He finally broke it, a whine leaving your lips as you felt the loss of his. He moved down to leave open kisses on your neck, smiling against you, deep breaths leaving the both of you. 
It was a perfect moment, until it wasn’t. The door opened, and you heard a horrified yell coming from the general area of the doorway. It wasn’t until the person spoke that you realized who it was.
“Are you serious?! You told me you were going to come say hi to him, not this!” 
You couldn’t do anything but laugh against Nick’s skin, the happiness still coursing through you overwhelming the embarrassment that would come later. Nick turned his head, a glare shooting across the room at his brother.
“Matt, get the fuck out.” 
Matt had a hand over his eyes, being as dramatic as he possibly could.
“Ugh. That’s my brother. Gross!” 
He slammed the door behind him as he left, not wanting to see a second more. Nick looked back at you, an exasperated smile on his face, pressing a short kiss to your lips before speaking himself.
“Did he know? About you feeling like this?” 
“No. I was going to tell him, but he figured it out for himself.”
Nick nodded, before returning to what he had been doing before Matt had walked in, only pausing to say one more thing. 
“You’re staying here tonight, right?” 
You smiled up at him. 
“Absolutely. You read my mind.”
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lovezbrownies · 2 days
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Work affair. (Yandere!Boss x GN!Reader)
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Masterlist
Synopsis: Your boss never cared much for you, until he did.
Red Ludenhart x Reader.
Warnings: Stalking, breaking and entering, alcohol, clubbing, drugging (to reader), death (minor character), forced memory loss,
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Your boss was a tad bit strange, but you can put up with the strange behavior if it meant getting paid. Even if your boss didn’t allow you to step outside of his office and the VVIP area of the club that’s okay, maybe he doesn’t want you to be influenced by lazy workers! Or he doesn’t want any of the sleazy non-VVIP customers to harass you! It was all for your own safety. You think.
Red was delighted to learn your apartment was close by to his club. He would always offer to walk you back home when your shift is regrettably over, he has your address memorized, as well as the entire layout of your apartment. The second fact was not something you were aware of however, you should definitely get better locks. It was child’s play to break into your humble abode.
The first few nights he broke into your home he was far more cautious than he is now, Red didn’t know when your bedtime was, but when he decided to install cameras all around your apartment, he could finally have some peace knowing when you were and weren’t awake. And of course to spy on any guests you have over, watching you walk around and commit yourselves to your hobbies on the weekends.
You were the definition of perfection in his eyes. Red wasn’t one for love and that mushy stuff, he’d always preferred the more chaotic parts of his life than the mushy lovey dovey stuff he’s seen on TV. That's what he’s been saying to himself up until he met you, the new bartender. Red has no clue who hired you but he sure as hell is eternally grateful for it.
It wasn’t a love at first sight situation, nor did you meet immediately. You met the owner of the club you work at a month after you started working. It was during the monthly staff meeting when you did. Red was confused by your presence and asked who you were, after introducing yourself to him he brushed you off. Red didn’t care if there was a new employee, as long as you don’t cause trouble you’re not someone important to him at all.
Red thought you were attractive, sure, but most of his staff are– nothing new. Red doesn’t like the main entrance of his own club, usually taking the back entrance for special patrons, and into the VVIP area. So that means months passed, and the only times he’d ever see you are during the staff meetings. He’s sure you do at least the bare minimum since you don’t get a lot of complaints like other staff. Maybe the illogical assholes every now and then would accuse you of something but the floor manager usually has it handled.
It wasn’t until you had the closing shift while Red was still there that he realized how wonderful you are. Normally he’d be back home before the closing shift, today was different. It was a long complicated process but Red managed to convince an investor to put in double the money they originally invested; it was now 5:50 AM. Patrons have been kicked out, evident by the lack of noise, and Red’s sure the staff have left by now.
Red needed to drink something, and he needed it to be as heavy as possible. The VVIP areas didn’t have anything strong so he went to the general area of his club. Red expected the usual emptiness of the club, but someone was still there, vacuuming the confetti off the floors. In the middle of the large empty club stood you, headphones on as you nodded along to the music you were listening to.
This was something he hadn’t seen before; and he just stood there– watching as you cleaned up, unaware of the predator watching your every move. Eventually, tired of standing there Red just walked over to one of the bars around the club, took his favorite brandy bottle, poured himself a cup full, and kept watching. This time he was leaning against the bar counter. It was cute how you were none the wiser of his presence.
Eventually you turned off the vacuum. Turning around you expected nothing less than perfectly clear floors, which yes that you did see, but you also found the owner of the club, smirking at you, glass half empty. You stood there, motionlessly staring at Red as he stared right back at you. Not wanting to get into trouble for whatever reason you sped off into the restricted area for the staff and booked it to the janitor’s closet; just as Red was about to say something to quell your anxieties.
Well, not Red’s interest was certainly piqued. Picking up the vacuum you abandoned he made his way over to the staff only area, waiting to hear some shuffling but all he heard was the staff’s exit door opening and closing. You left. Not a trace of your existence to be seen. Looked like you were all ready and packed to leave, it’s fine, he’ll just put the vacuum back and see you the next day.
And see you he did. For weeks, he would approach you at the end of your shift, chat, and then walk you back home. A month and a half into your newfound friendship he promoted you to be the VVIP’s sole bartender, firing the old one for reasons unknown. Red watched your every move since, in his club, in your apartment, with your friends, shopping. Wherever you are. There will always be a camera following your every move.
Your boss was a nice man for getting to know you, walking you home as the sun rises, making sure no one bothered you, and when someone did he’d defend you like his life depended on it. Normally, you’d fall in love with a man if he did all that just for you. But you were already in a committed relationship. 
Your husband, Richard, is a military man, striving to be the next Chief. He moved away from the city you two lived in right before you started working at the bar– Rich was transferred over to a different city, and you didn’t want to move away from your family and friends, so you compromised. Richard tries his best to come by and visit, he still pays for your shared apartment, and always calls you morning and night. He is the man for you.
Red knew about Richard, of course he would. Red knew everything there was to know about you, and was he concerned over it? No. Red has connections everywhere. Including in the military, so when an unfortunate accident occurs, a misfire, or maybe a terrible case of food poisoning. Whatever it may be, your ex-husband is now dead. Leaving room for Red to be the sincere loving friend. Yes, come running to his arms, cry to him, it’s late and you don’t want to be alone? No worries, he’ll stay the night!
Red’s been doing an amazing job distracting you from the death of your ex-husband. Hugging you when you need, cooking mouth watering dishes just for you, and buying you many things to help distract you from the grief. Like gaming consoles, knitting yarn, books, art equipment, anything! If he ever sees you show interest in something he will immediately purchase it or at least try to get a hold of it. Whenever you show concern or guilt over the amounts he’s spent on you he softly pets you and tells you that his club is very successful.
Over time, Red truly weaseled his way into your life. He spent most of his nights in your bed; although platonically, as you so claim. Red likes to act like a good househusband when he does sleep over, wake up early, cook breakfast, and shamelessly flirt with you. You two walk together to work, he doesn’t dare think of work up until your shift starts.
Red doesn’t like to harm you, but he has been slipping a few pills into your food; a few anti-anxiety meds, with sleeping aids and here comes the perfect concoction for lapses of memory, causing you to forget quite a bit but not too much to be dangerous. He does this for a while, until you mostly forget about the fact that you had been unfaithful to Red by marrying some rando. Once that happens Red pulls back from the drugging. It was easy to do so, with a spare key to your apartment and him cooking you most of your meals.
You stare up at the ceiling with a soft smile on your face, you ponder how you hadn’t managed to fall in love with your husband sooner. He’s always been there for you, he’s protected you from creeps, and he’s spoiled you even before you got together. You were so lucky that you had him. You looked back down, gazing at the handsome man laying his head on your lap. You caress his hair, your perfect man, Red.
Red loves his little butterfly.
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mountainsandmayhem · 11 hours
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Aisle Amore
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Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Summary: You truly never know who you might meet in the grocery store. CW: no smut, all fluff. Flirting, mention of divorce, talks of food, more adorable flirting. Word Count: 3.4k AN: I've gone soft!! I couldn't stop thinking about how the couple in Wonderful Tonight and Netflix & Chill met and even though no one asked, this is exactly how they met. I worked in a grocery store for almost 15 years and I can tell you right now that I would to SPRINTING to the pasta aisle. Special thank you to @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading and both her and @littlevenicebitch69 for helping me come up with a title. Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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To you, there’s nothing worse than asking for help. You’ve been fiercely independent your entire life, and these snapped ligaments have been testing you. Your friends say they don’t mind helping, but YOU mind them helping. The pain in your ankle has finally subsided enough that you can put a little weight on it and only use one crutch.
Freedom! 
You shut your laptop at 6 pm, change into something that isn’t pyjama pants and begrudgingly put on a bra. The first stop on your newly found freedom tour is the grocery store. Thirteen year old you would be appalled at how excited you are over this. You jot down all the ingredients you’ll need to make homemade pasta, marinara sauce and meatballs. 
Living in downtown DC has lots of perks, one of them being you can walk to the grocery store that’s just around the block. After gingerly testing your ankles a few times you decide you can walk there. Your dad’s voice echoes through your head, “This family doesn’t cry, take care of yourself, don’t depend on anyone but you”. 
The walk there is easy, it feels good to be out in the summer evening sun, soaking in the vitamin D that you’ve been missing out on the last few weeks. You grab one of those small baskets with wheels and head into the store. It might be dramatic, but it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been out on your own and you feel that same hyped elation you had at 16 when you got your license and your parents allowed you to go out on your own the first time. Except at 16 you picked up your friends and went to the record store, you were much cooler in your youth. 
“Stick to the list,” you say to yourself, realizing you’re slowly becoming just like your mother. That’s fucking depressing. 
The first items are olive oil and flour, you crutch along, the sounds of metal clicking and the rubber bottom squeaking following you as you move along the shiny white tile floor. A song you vaguely remember hearing during your childhood plays overhead, Eric Clapton singing about a woman looking lovely. The bakery must have fresh bread, and the delicious scent of it makes your mouth water. 
Focus! 
As you turn down the pasta aisle, you brush past a man in a suit who’s looking at the canned pasta sauces, poor sap, and stop about ten feet away from him. The small bag of flour you need is on an easily accessible shelf but of course, there’s only one left and it’s all the way at the back. 
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Marcus holds up a jar of canned marinara, silently humming along to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. He swears he hears his grandmother on his mother’s side rolling in her grave. She wasn’t Italian, but owned a restaurant and was definitely looking down at him ashamed that he was BUYING something she taught him to make.
Sorry grams, he thinks, just as someone hobbles past him, vanilla wafting behind her, temporarily replacing the scent of the fresh bread he’s also going to pick up. His grandmother might come back just to slap him for this dinner tonight. Granted, he did just return from seeing his ex and her new boyfriend so maybe she’d take pity on him. Bake him those gooey chocolate chip cookies he loved so much. 
As he turns to head toward the pasta he sees a woman who quite frankly takes his breath away. She’s so beautiful that he almost can’t take her all in at once. Her bare legs are toned and tanned, wrapped in long black biker shorts, paired with a plain grey t-shirt and unzipped black hoodie. One high top converse laced up on one foot, the other in an uncomfortable looking boot. Her hair is in a low messy bun with almost too perfectly placed pieces along her neck and face. She seems to invade every ounce of him, until all he can see is her and all he can smell is warm vanilla. His mouth goes dry, and his heartbeat fills his ears. 
This next bit happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even think about it. But you would later describe it as not one of your finest moments, and he would describe it as the moment that changed his life. 
He watches as you reach above your head, raising up on the tippy toe of your good foot. As you lean forward, your hollow aluminum crutch slips out from underneath you and falls to the ground. An echoing tinny bang startles you and you stumble, putting too much pressure on your broken foot. The sweetest sounding “Ouch! Motherfucker,” leaves your pouty pink lips as Marcus rushes to catch you. 
“Whoa,” he says as he reaches out to steady you, one hand wrapping around your hip, the other cupping your elbow, helping you off your injured leg. “Are you ok?” 
Your cheeks flush as you look up at him. “Sorry, thank you.” 
Your bright blue eyes wash over him, and something tugs behind his heart. Eric Clapton singing "Oh my darling, you are wonderful tonight" as he stands there temporarily stunned, unsure of where he is or what is name is. It's just you.
It doesn’t make any sense, you could be married for all he knows, but something about you draws him in. He didn’t think he’d feel this way again for a very long time, but he needs to find a way to keep talking to you. 
“Let me get that for you,” he says, his hand moving from your elbow, reaching up and easily plucking the flour off the shelf. 
“Thanks, I could have gotten it.” You say and he fights to stop from laughing. He can tell that you’re not someone who asks for help. No, you’re independent and strong willed. And fuck if that doesn’t just make that tug behind his heart pull that much harder. 
“I know you can, you just scared me.” He looks down at you softly as you stare up at him. 
He’s suddenly very aware that he still has one hand on your hip. Your shirt had ridden up as you wobbled, and the skin of your hip is soft and warm against his palm. He finds himself wondering if the rest of you is just as comforting. Just as an inviting. The light scent of your vanilla perfume fills the small space between the two of you. 
“Look,” he says, finding it inside himself to peel his hand off you now that you’re steady, placing your flour in your basket and bending to grab your crutch. “My grandma is already cursing me from heaven for buying canned sauce and boxed pasta. Can you please let me help you?” 
You open your mouth and then close it, almost like you’re trying to come up with a reason to not let him, so he quickly adds, “For my sake.” 
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You laugh through your nose, shaking your head and taking your crutch from this incredibly handsome stranger. 
Please don’t be married. Or a total creep. 
“Smooth,” you say teasingly. 
He tugs at his white button up shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?" He fakes a dramatic cough, "I swear - she’s watching me.” 
You look up at the white painted ceiling of the grocery store. “OK, grandma. Chill. I’ll let him help me.” 
When you look back at him he’s smiling from ear to ear, and if you thought he was handsome before; well, fuck, there’s not even a word to describe how unbelievably charming he looks right now. 
He looks down at your basket before saying, “Do you have a big list?” 
“Umm,” you say holding out the special lined paper you have to make grocery lists. “I have a few things, ya.” 
His thick fingers brush lightly against yours as he takes the list. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring, score, his nails are trimmed short and his cuticles are nicely manicured. You assume he must have some sort of fancy office job, like a lawyer or an accountant. He seems to radiate stability and you didn't realize you could be so aroused by fingers.
“Are you making pasta? And sauce?” He asks as his brown doe eyes scan your list. 
“I am,” you say proudly. You might not be a world famous chef, but you take pride in your cooking abilities. 
He smiles back at you again. “Stay here,” he says softly, “I’m gonna grab a cart.” 
As he turns to walk away, taking your basket and his sauce with him, you notice the way his grey suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders. Accountant by day, muscle model by night? Muscle model? Great, he’s broken your brain. 
It doesn’t take long before you hear the distinct rumbling of the plastic wheels of a shopping cart heading your way. Just as your handsome stranger comes back into the aisle “At Last” by Etta James starts to play. 
“I’m Marcus, by the way,” he says, grabbing a box of pasta on the shelf and sitting it next to his sauce in the top part of the cart. 
You say your name and notice the tiniest glint in his eye as the sound of it wraps around him. “Well then, we’d better get going on this list.” 
He moves slowly, allowing you to set the walking pace. He’s taken your list and the entire thing feels almost too domestic, like you can envision yourself doing this every weekend with him for the rest of your lives. Maybe there would even be a kid in that little part where he puts his boxed pasta and canned sauce. 
“Alright, so we covered names and who grew up where. So, what do you do for a living?” You ask, snatching a bottle of olive oil off the shelf. 
“I - uh - I work in law enforcement,” he says. 
You look at him, then his tie, then back at him. With a hint of amusement in your voice you say, “Pretty fancy dress code. What are you? Like FBI or something.” 
“Yes, actually. And now that you know that, I miiiight have to kill you.” 
You laugh, “Sure know how to put a girl at ease, Agent Pike.” 
The way you say agent, all teasing and flirty, goes straight to his cock. He’s been called Agent Pike thousands of times over his career but it’s never sent a shiver down his body like that before. 
He runs a hand over his patchy scruff. “I’m kidding. About the killing part, not the FBI part.” 
“Thanks for clarifying,” you laugh.
Whitney Houston’s voice floats across the store, singing about dancing with someone who loves her. 
Neither of you is particularly paying attention to your list or what aisle you’re in. You snake up and down each aisle, both of you occasionally grabbing something you need. 
“What about you?” He asks. Something about the way he asks a question seems different. It’s like when Marcus asks something he’s genuinely asking, not just trying to force conversation. With every answer you give his eyes focus on yours, he nods and seems curious and excited to hear what you have to say. 
The bar is truly in hell if I’m turned on by a man who’s just treating me like a human. 
“I run a small online store for my, umm, for my designs.” This part is always awkward, men change how they treat you once they find out what you do for a living. You avoid his eyes, he’s so goddamn handsome and you’re already disappointed that he’ll soon give you an ick with how he’ll respond to your career, how all men respond. 
“Your designs? Are you an artist?” His eyes light up and he stands a little taller when he asks, he must love art. He’s going to be thrilled to find out your best friend owns a gallery, and probably even more thrilled when he learns you hurt your ankle falling off a step ladder she had you posing on as she painted you, and yes, you were completely nude. 
“No,” you laugh. “I design clothing. Sort of.” You continue avoiding his eyes and chew on the inside of your cheek as you grab some dried oregano and place it in the basket. 
“Hey,” he says softly, stopping by the spices, “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want me to know.” 
“It’s not that. It’s just,” you stop, glancing up at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, and you have the sudden urge to sink your teeth into his neck. “Men just usually treat me differently once they know.” 
He narrows his eyes at you and his lips curl into a tight lipped and curious smile. “That’s clickbait. Now you have to tell me.” 
“Or you’ll kill me?” You laugh. 
“Yes, FBI remember,” he says sarcastically. 
You take a deep breath through your nose before you begin. “Ok, I design and sell lingerie.” You try to sound as casual as possible, smiling sweetly at him before you start walking again. 
Marcus doesn’t follow along so you look over your shoulder at him. Is he blushing? 
“Well,” he says, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. “I don’t see how that would make someone treat you differently.” 
“Then why are you blushing, Pike?” You flutter your lashes at him as he catches up to you in the aisle. 
The pink of his cheeks deepened, “I’m not blushing. Pretty sure I got a sunburn when I grabbed the cart.” 
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard that being indoors during sunset is a very dangerous UV time.” You joke. 
He laughs, “You’d be shocked how many people don’t believe it.” 
You both laugh as you head towards the produce department for your tomatoes and onions. Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ comes over the speakers, and even though other people are shopping, it feels like it’s being targeted at just the two of you. You pluck a few tomatoes from the shelf and he opens the little plastic bag for you to place them in. 
He takes a breath to start speaking and you brace yourself for the inevitable. All men do it. They all either ask what your company is called so they can look up your Instagram later or they’re bold and flat out ask you to model some of your designs for them. 
“Where’d you learn to make pasta?” He asks, his voice quivering at the closeness of your body to his. 
“Umm, I sort of did an Eat, Pray, Love thing recently.” You say quietly, smiling up at him. It’s the tiniest movement, but you swear his eyes flick to your lips as your hand brushes against his while you reach into the bag. Your heart is pounding behind your ribs, it’s almost unfair how handsome he looks under these fluorescent lights. 
“Oh? Like you went to Italy?” His voice is low and nervous as he watches you picking up tomatoes, squeezing them gently and smelling them. Carefully choosing the best ones. 
“Yes. Without spilling my whole life story, I got married young and then divorced a few years ago. I just kind of needed a hard reset on myself.” You drop two more tomatoes in the bag and then side step, or more more like side hobble, to the onions. 
“Huh,” he says, “I can honestly say that I know exactly what you mean by that.” 
You both smile at each other, you swear you can see his pulse flutter in his neck before he says, “Unfortunately, I think we have everything on your list,” he finishes off his sentence by saying your name and it sends an explosion of butterflies in your lower belly. You don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who makes you feel like you have somehow known them for your whole life but is also brand new. 
“Sorry. You probably have places to be and I’m -“ Your voice trails off when he slowly steps even further into your space. 
“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly, his fingertips brushing against yours causing a buzzing up your arm. Just then ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden rains down from the speakers. Marcus laughs gently and continues, “Is it just me or has the music been interesting in here tonight?” 
You move your pointer finger just a hair so it brushes against his, “ya, sounds like the crab from The Little Mermaid is in charge.”
A laugh from his stomach passes his lips, it’s joyous and melodic and even though you’ve just met him, you want to make him laugh like that for the rest of your life. He’s smiling so big that you can see all his straight white teeth. His head tips forward slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkles. You’re both so close, he smells like mint and a new book and everything around you seems to fall away, blurring around the edges. It’s overwhelming. Dizzying even. He’s the one. You can’t explain it, but you were meant to be in this grocery, with this annoying boot and crutch. 
“That’s not quite the comparison I would have used, but yes.” His eyes dance around yours, still laced with amusement and happiness. “Is he a crab or lobster?” 
“I think he’s a crab,” you say, pulling your hand back from his to stop yourself from leaping off that cliff and into his arms.
“I think he’s a lobster,” he counters, stepping back but never breaking the connection of his eyes with yours. 
As you head towards the checkout you glance towards the shopping cart nervously, remembering that you walked here. 
Both of you pay for your groceries in a comfortable silence and he scolds you teasingly for trying to grab your bags. “Grandma is still watching.” 
The two of you head for the exit. “Did you park somewhere?” 
“No. I can take them from here,” you’re not going to let this man drive you somewhere or walk you home. That’s ridiculous. You are strong and you’ve already impeded his life enough. 
He lifts his eyebrow suspiciously and turns just a touch so you can’t reach your bags. “You walked here, didn’t you?” 
“It’s really fine, Marcus. It’s not far. Thank you for your help. You didn’t need to do that.” 
“I have an apartment that way,” he says, nodding his head in the same direction you need to go.
“Oh that’s very forward of you, but I know better than to go to a secondary location with a stranger.” And he does it again, that beautiful, happy laugh. “I’m in the same direction.” 
You walk down the quiet street. People always say they wouldn’t want to live downtown because it’s too noisy, but truthfully, after the work crowd disperses for the evening and the dinner rush parts, it’s quite peaceful. 
“How sure are you that he’s a lobster? Willing to make a bet?” 
He looks over at you cautiously. “Alright. I’ll play along. I’m 100% sure he’s a lobster. What’s the bet?” 
“Wow. Marcus Pike, does the FBI know you’re such a risk taker?” 
He says your last name and follows it with, “Quit stalling, what’s the bet.” 
“Ok ok. Once I’m off all the painkillers. If he’s a crab, I make you REAL pasta. If he’s a lobster, you take me out for real pasta.” 
You both stop at the same time in front of the same building, “This is me. So is it a bet?”
Marcus pulls a key fob out of his pocket, “This is also me. And yes, we have a bet.” 
You cross the lobby together, you select your floors and exchange phone numbers on the way up and then he finally gives you your bags. 
“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him sweetly as the elevator approaches your floor. “I appreciate you using your grandma to help me.” 
He covers his heart with his hand. “I would never!” 
As the elevator comes to a halt he glances up at you sheepishly and your heart almost breaks open right then and there at how devastatingly handsome and heart meltingly adorable he is all at the same time. 
You smile like a damn fool the moment you’re out of that elevator. Of all the ways you thought your night was going to go, it did not involve a very charming stranger making you all nervous and delusional. 
The second you get inside your apartment you fight the urge to prove yourself right and cash in on our dinner, but you already miss him, so you text him. 
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Tag list:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut  @sullyrocky44 
@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot
@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog
@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya
@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey
@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69
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peachesancreams · 2 days
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Expanding on the Wives
everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~
Alastors wife
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Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)
They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?
They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.
They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.
Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.
Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?
When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.
They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.
Now for the second and remembered meeting!!
Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.
It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.
Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.
"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."
Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.
He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.
Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.
Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!
They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.
Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.
She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.
Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.
Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.
It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.
They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.
Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.
Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?
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cypherthesuccubus · 2 days
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Rekindle Our Spark~
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Alastor x reader -Part 3- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!!
Warnings: smut, 18+, predator/prey, murder, S&M, bondage, knife play, blood kink, marking, cock worship, pussy worship, body worship, dom/sub, breath play, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, breeding, creampie, rutting
Other tags: Fluff and Angst
Aftercare always!!!~✨
Part three is here, my darlings!!~ sorry for the wait, but good things always come to those who do, don’t they~ Please do enjoy yourselves~ 😈💕✨
(The song that plays during the dance)
(Y/N’s P.O.V)
I flip through the pages of my book I’m currently invested in. Nothing beats a good mystery novel every now and again. I recline back against the arm rest of the couch when I’m disturbed by a feminine voice “Hey (Y/N)! Vaggie and me are calling it a night, but I wanted to see how you were doing before I did.” I look to Miss Charlie; giving her a genuine smile “Oh I’m doing quite well! About to head to bed myself after I finish this chapter.” She smiles; just very happy to hear that I’m adjusting so well “Well if you need anything, just ask, ok?” I nod as she takes her leave upstairs; joining her girlfriend as they make their way down the hall. Ever since I’ve decided to become part of the Hazbin Hotel; thanks to a certain Radio demon; I’ve been feeling a lot more at ease then I was living in cannibal town. Yes the town is civilized of course, but still they ate human flesh like you would regular food. Which would put me on edge if one day I ended up on someone’s platter on account I made someone mad, or looked at them the wrong way. Could be my paranoia talking, but I honestly still would choose to move anyways; even if Alastor didn’t invite me to be a resident in the hotel. I still laugh about what transpired before he invited me here. He decides to give me a fright in the supply closet; thus jogging my memory of that night. I was thankful he let me go, but unfortunately I was still caught and brought back to meet my fate. I yelled out for him when I did get caught by one of the men, but it was too late. His corpse laid on the ground; soaking in his own blood from the shot wound.
I did manage to escape once they brought me back to their hideout. One of the men didn’t register that I was unbound and left me unsupervised in the lobby. I’d say luck was on my side after all. I had to go into witness protection after that and move to a different city under a new name. It worked for a while, until they found me. Unfortunately they weren’t interested in me anymore; they wanted me dead more than anything after escaping them. I went the same way he did; very petty if you ask me. So I’ve been down here for like what? 70 years now? Yeah, it’s been a shit show to say the least, but things got better since becoming Rosie’s assistants. She was very nice to me; quickly giving me a job that I didn’t think I would get, since every other place wasn’t hiring or didn’t accept me. Now I had a new place to live at along with possible redemption; things were finally looking up. I close my book; putting it back on the shelf as I make my way up the stairs. Slowly walking down the hall, I hear faint music coming from the door near the end of the hall way. I think it was coming from Alastor’s room. I only seen it once from the tour Charlie gave me a month prior to moving into the hotel. Most of Alastor’s stuff was off limits to everyone, but I was finding very difficult to not investigate the music coming from his room. The music would play more clearly the closer I got to the door. It sounded so familiar like a blast from the past; drawing me in by nostalgia.
Before I could knock on the door, it opened on its own as if it knew I would be here. I slowly poke my head in; looking around to see if Alastor was in here. I catch a glance over to a large red velvet chair; sitting in front of the fireplace where I see a pair of familiar black and red shoes. His legs crossed over as he hums along to the tune, whilst reading a book of his own. Before I could make my presence known, he turns his head towards the door; giving me a welcoming smile. “Ahh (Y/N)! What a pleasant surprise! Do what do I owe this lovely visit from you so late at night?” I chuckled nervously; trying to find my words. “Oh it’s just….I overheard some music and wanted to hear it better.” He closes his book as he gets up from the chair; making his way towards me. “Is that all you came here for, my dear? I was hoping we could catch up! Have a little chat and reminisce on the past.” He stops right in front of me; eyes glowing in the dim light while his smile never faltered. “Well…that does sound nice. Why not!” He offers his hand out; taking it hesitantly as he guides me to the part of his room where there was a literal forest like atmosphere there. The grass and trees look and felt so real. It was almost like being back on earth again. He leads me to a cute cafe like table with elegant chairs to match. Pulling out one, he gestured me to sit; gently pushing me in as he goes to sit across from me.
(Alastor’s P.O.V)
“I have so many questions, my dear! For instance, what happened after that night? Did you manage to escape thanks to my help, darling?” I snap my fingers; making a tea set appear on the table as I go to pour myself and her a cup. “Well I did eventually. They caught me a little bit after you let me go, and I saw what happened to you.” I felt my eye twitch; remembering how annoying it was to be taken out by a petty excuse of a criminal no less. “Luckily they weren’t too smart to realize you cut the ropes off when I escaped the second time.” I chuckle as I take a sip of the tea. “Lucky indeed! How did you manage to stay alive this long before now?” She takes a sip of her tea; placing back down as she lets out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t live that long. Witness protection did keep me alive for 20 years, until they found me…..they killed me the same way you died, which was really petty if you ask me.” I nod; taking another sip “They never really did have class, did they? How long have you been down here since then, my dear?” She pauses, placing her fist under her chin as she thinks “I’d say about rather…..70 years now?….yeah that sounds right.” 70 years? And I haven’t ran into her until now? Ironic how things work like this. We continue to reminisce about fond memories we’ve had. Even the moments we’ve had before that night.
My ears perk up during our charming conversation; hearing a song that reminded me of another night we shared due to celebratory reasons. Her family had hit an important milestone that night and wanted to throw a last minute gathering. I think that night we had our first conversation with each other; along with a first dance. I place my tea cup down; getting up from the chair as I stand in front of (Y/N). “Remember that night, my dear? Shall we recreate it?” I offer my hand to her; my smile widens as she timidly takes it. I lead her to the middle of the forest clearing; placing my left hand on her waist as I held her hand with my right. The song was slow; leading us into a waltz as she smiles at me. “Looks like you still know how to dance after all this time.” I chuckle; leading her to twirl in place. “Of course, my dear! Wouldn’t be gentlemen like of me if I didn’t.” She chuckles as we continue to dance a little further into the clearing of the trees. The song was nearing its end; sliding my arm around her waist as I pull her in closer. “You know, my dear, all this reliving the past has got me thinking….this setting we’re in….reminds me of another memory that was never….completed.” She looks at me; arching her brow as she tilts her head “What do you mean by that, Alastor?”
I spin her once more; pulling her close to me as I slowly dip her with a wide smile “If memory serves me right, my dear…..the night before I died…we made a little deal, didn’t we?~” She blushes at the realization; eyes widening as I can feel her heartbeat quicken “Y-yes we did, huh?” I chuckle; running my hand up her thigh as I lift it to rest at my hip; holding it there. “There’s one thing to know about me, darling….when I make a deal….” I run my free hand up the back of her neck; lowering her to lay on the forest floor as I pin her body down. I gently grab her chin; having her look deep into my eyes as she blushes once more. “I always come to collect~.” I lower myself down; capturing her lips with my own. I pry her mouth open just enough to slide my tongue against hers; tasting every inch of her in a feverish vigor. I run my hands up the length of her arms; pinning them by the wrists as I summon my ethereal chains to bound them. She breaks the kiss; completely out of breath as she spoke “W-what are you doing?” She wiggles against the chains; pushing me to hold the restraints down; grinning wildly “I going to take what’s mine, my dear~…..now…let’s continue where we left off all those years ago~.”
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zorosprincess · 3 days
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Succiduous pt.1
PRONOUNCED - Suc•cid•u•ous | \sək`sədooəs\ DEFINITION - Ready to fall, falling.
PAIRING - Miya Twins x Reader WC - 5.8K GENRE - Fluff CW - a lot of fluff, unrequited love if you squint, really bad first kiss, general language warnings, the usual bullying that comes hand in hand with the miya twins SYNOPSIS - The thing about growing up with the Miya twins... You learn a lot of things. You learn that they bleed into every aspect of your life, that you'll never be rid of them. You learn that they feel more like home than your house does.
MASTERLIST | NEXT PART
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AGE 6
Growing up with the Miya twins means that they find a way to seep into every single part of your life.
The first time you saw the Miya twins you were just a kid. 6, to be precise.
You can’t pretend to remember all the details of your first meeting, a lot of things are blurry before the age of 12. Even after that isn’t always great. Bits and pieces put together like puzzle pieces, an outline of what the pictures should look like. And, possibly, not even those pieces were always remembered correctly.
What you do remember vividly, however, was the distaste in your mouth as you moved to a new house and a new school, all contact with your parents and with your friends (the girls you swore were going to be your bridesmaids one day in the way that some little girls imagine and play out their future weddings) cut off. All you had wanted to do was sit in your room and point out where you wanted things to go so that your new brother could move them for you.
(When you grew older you had realized he wasn’t exactly your brother, but at 6—brother-in-law was too many words for you to pay attention to. Just as you learned to be grateful for your sister and her husband taking you away from what you learned later was an ugly situation. The words 'divorce' and 'custody battle' were things ignored by your small ears until you were old enough to understand.)
You remember, clearly, the fit you threw as your sister dragged you out of the house and down to the nearest park your first full day in town, leaving her husband and his brother to build pieces of furniture around the house. You don’t mean an actual fit, of course, there was no screaming and crying, no kicking and throwing yourself around.
But you’d be lying if you didn’t purposely make it a little harder to pull you out of your room and down the hallway. If you claimed you didn’t drag your feet a little more as you walked, taking smaller steps than usual. Counting three steps between every line in the walk.
Lying if you said you didn’t shut your mouth and keep every single comment to yourself, not even breaking to answer if you wanted something to eat. You did. But you weren’t about to speak to your sister to let her know that. Not about to break your cone of silent protest. That was the hill you knew you would die on.
It was at that park, the one you were dragged to on your first day, that you first met the Miya twins. The only two there that were your age at the time.
Your sister had been so pushy that day. “Make friends!” She (literally) pushed you towards the play structure where they were arguing over who got to go up the ladder to the climbing bars first. You'd grimaced at the sight—well, at the sound. Two loud voices yelling at each other, over each other, as they started to go for each others’ hair. Too loud.
You'd shaken your head adamantly but your sister had just kept pushing until you were only a few feet away from them, the cause of the ruckus. She'd quickly rushed away to watch you from a far off bench, keen on making sure you could do this on your own. Your response had only been to give her an annoyed look but she’d given you a thumbs up anyways, encouragement to 'go for it'.
“Excuse me.” Your voice had come as a whisper first, too nervous to speak louder than that. Neither of the boys acknowledged your presence, their argument slowly getting closer to putting them both on the ground. You sighed and tried again. Soft voice raising a couple levels. “Excuse me?”
That was the moment you saw their faces for the first time. Both frozen and staring right at you. You remember looking at the two of them and just thinking — oh god. They’re duplicates. Two nearly identical faces staring at you in confusion.
“What d’ya want?” One of them asked, the one with dark brown hair and brown eyes. Annoyance had laced his tone like he wasn’t being held by the collar merely an inch above the ground as his own hands were wrapped up in his twins’ hair.
Before you were even given the chance to open your mouth and respond to the attitude he gave you, he was slammed into the ground by the other. The second boy’s hand released the first’s collar and shoved straight into his brother's face, blocking all chances to see or talk for the moment. “Why d’ya have t'be so rude.” His hair was darker, black, and his eyes were a shiny grey.
“Mm nah roo!“ the brown-eyed boy’s protests were muffled as he tried to shove his brother off him. He succeeded after only a few tries. You stood silent, watching in horror as these strangers fought. You remember shooting a worried look over to your sister only to find her not even looking at you, missing your perceived distress.
“Uh—” your voice caught their attention immediately this time, “I’m new here.” Both stood up straighter, only a few shoved placed between them as they turned to look at you, finally waiting to hear you out even though your voice was so quiet compared to theirs. You watched as both their faces changed to the same dumb look and they even tilted their heads in the same way, waiting for the punchline. “I’m l/n.” Your last name melted quietly of your tongue and you watched them both silently form it with their own.
“Miya.” Their two voices spoke at the same time that both their hands were presented to you. You blinked at them both and it was like a light clicking on as they realized their mistake.
The rude one - as you had dubbed him - spoke again, jerking his thumb at his brother, the one with grey eyes. “Tha’s Osamu.” He then stood a little straighter and pointed to himself proudly. “I’m—“
He was cut off as his brother pushed him again. “Ah-noyin.’” He accentuated the ‘ah’ and flicked his brother’s head, hard. “Lemme tell ‘er m’own name.”
You struggled to keep a laugh from slipping out at that, refusing to let the strangers know that you had feelings yet, let alone that you found them even slightly amusing.
The one now labeled as both rude and 'ah-noyin'' by his brother took his chance to scramble towards his original goal. “Jus for tha’, m’goin’ firs’.”
But just as soon as he'd claimed that and crawled to the top of the stairs, slinging his hands onto the first bar, he'd come tumbling down in a mess of metal bangs and small shrieks all caused by a misplaced foot and gravity. You'd let out a giggle then, unable to help yourself as you'd watched the boy tumble.
“‘s what he deserved for bein’ rude.” You laughed out louder at the comment and if you'd have looked at Osamu’s face in that moment, you would’ve seen a boy who looked as if he'd just fallen in love.
“I like ya.” Osamu said then, definitive tone as he drew your attention away from where his brother was trying to wipe dirt from out of his mouth. You'd tilted your head at him in confusion as he made this declaration, eyes widening slightly in shock. “Ya wan’ some food?”
You went to deny the offer to be polite but your stomach had growled then, as if responding on its own. Loud enough for the boy in front of you to hear it clearly. It was as if it was a reminder of how stupid you had been all day by protesting your sister and her new husband and refusing to eat anything they'd offered.
You'd winced at the noise but it had cause a light laugh to pass through Osamu’s lips. The sound made you let a small smile of your own slip out and you resigned to nod at him as your response. “C’mon,” he'd latched his hand onto yours, the first contact you'd had with a Miya, and started to pull you away from his brother, “ya can have Atsumu’s lunch.”
“’Ey!” The other twin—Atsumu you now knew him as—had finally paid attention to you both again as you'd run off towards where Osamu was promising you food.
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The second time that you saw the Miya twins was your first day at your new primary school. You had convinced your sister to not force you to try and make friends anymore for the rest of your school break. But the second that you walked into your classroom, the teacher had dragged you in front of the entire class to introduce you to the rest of the students.
You keenly remember the distaste in the back of your throat as the teacher presented you like a shiny new toy – “everyone, this is l/n y/n, she’s new to town and I want everyone to be really nice to her.” She had accentuated the 'really' of her sentence, sending a glance around at all the expectant faces, something that made you feel like shrinking in on yourself. Then she had looked at you expectantly and you remember having to force yourself to give a small smile and wave at the class.
When she'd released you from the confines of her grip at the front of the class you'd rushed to find a seat... only to be stopped by a familiar face jumping into your path.
“’Ey, I know ya!” You'd paused, eyes widening in a small amount of fright at the enthusiasm that seemed to radiate off the twin. “Met ya a’the park!” You'd stared at him and blinked slowly as he kept on, not even trying to give you the chance to speak. “Ya ‘member me?”
You knew exactly which twin this was, the one with brown eyes. The rude one. The one labeled as 'ah-noyin'' by the one you actually didn't mind. You'd sighed in irritation and acknowledged that whatever you decided you were going to say then would probably determine the rest of your year.
“You’re Osamu’s twin. Right?” You'd paired it with a sweet smile and watched as his jaw dropped in shock.
A loud laugh came from your right and you'd dragged your eyes away from the satisfying picture of Atsumu trying to pull his jaw off the floor and over to where Osamu stood next to you holding his stomach. Your eyes lit up at the sight. You decided then that you could get used to making him laugh.
“Put ya in ya place there, Atsumu.” Osamu laughed and guided you away from his brother. “Sit nex' t'me?” You smiled and nodded, falling easily into the seat next to the twin that couldn’t stop staring at you with a wide and toothy smile.
The other twin stood there, eyes stuck on you as well, disbelief filling them. “But tha’s ma seat!”
“Not anymore.” You'd quipped back quietly, sticking your tongue out at him.
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AGE 8
At some point in the next few years, you realized that these twins might be part of your life for a while... whether you liked that fact or not.
Growing up with the Miya twins means that you get used to loud things.
Osamu and Atsumu and their constant bickering had become part of your regular routine. You would repeatedly join Osamu in his teasing of Atsumu, always pulling a laugh out of Osamu when you did. A feeling of joy always filled you when Osamu’s laughs filled your ears as Atsumu would look at you in shock.
You would constantly have to break up fights between the two of them (and sometimes others that would accidentally get caught between them). You became accustomed to waiting for them outside of the principal’s office. Waiting for their lectures to be done so that you all could walk home together. Reading books as you waited for detentions and punishments to be dealt.
But on the first day of your third year in school together, Osamu greeted you outside your house with a new nickname for you on his tongue. “Y/n/n!” He'd shouted it, immediately wrapping you in a hug as you bounded out of your house and straight into his arms.
“Y/n/n?” You'd whispered it as a question as you pulled out of the hug. No one had given you a nickname before and there was a sudden warmth that had come with it, something like comfort or belonging.
Concern had etched its way across his face. “Though’ t’was cute? D’ya not like it?” His voice sounded soft then, small with his worries weighing it down.
You made sure to shake your head quickly and beam up at him. “No! I love it!” You'd pulled away and adjusted your bag as you both walked back to where Atsumu was standing, waiting on the street.
“Ya ready fer a new year?” Atsumu had asked as you'd reached him, slinging arms around both your shoulder and his brother’s, making sure that he was between you both, always craving to be the center of your trio.
You rolled your eyes and ducked out from under his arm. “Ready to see how much dumber ya got over break, Thing 2.” You'd jabbed the comment at him with a snicker. And with that, the warm feeling returned, Atsumu’s dumbstricken face and Osamu’s laugh.
“Why’re ya such a meanie, Y/n/n?” Atsumu whined, your new nickname falling from his mouth easily. Osamu ducked out from under Atsumu's arm next and came to walk next to you, leaving his brother a couple steps behind you both.
“Ya deserve it.” You'd laughed as Osamu’s arm wrapped your shoulder where Atsumu’s had previously been. “And don’t call me that.”
You didn’t have to look back to know that Atsumu’s jaw had fallen to the floor again. “Why’s Osamu ‘llowed t'call ya that but m’not?”
You blew a puff of air out of your nose, trying not to fully laugh, too not give away the small joke, as you looked lightly over your and Osamu’s touching shoulders. “Cause I actually like Osamu.” You said with finality.
Warm again as Atsumu looked distressed and Osamu laughed in your ear.
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AGE 10
You picked up a sport, soccer to be exact.
You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little tiny bit because Atsumu and Osamu were getting so into volleyball. That you wanted to find something you liked like that too. It helped that your new sport was foot-based in contrast to their hand-based one. A difference enough to make sure you could have your own thing.
It was around then when they had come running to you after one of their volleyball camp days. Exclamations springing from their mouths, overlapping each other, that you needed to stop calling them Osamu and Atsumu 'immediately'.
“We’re changin’ our names!” Atsumu had exclaimed loudly, jumping in front of your face as you went to pull your soccer bag onto your shoulder so that you were forced to listen to him over his brother.
Osamu was quick to snatch your duffel from you before it fully landed, swinging it onto his own shoulder instead with a smile that made your heart constrict. With a smooth motion, he swung his other arm out to smack his brother in the face, not looking away from you nor stopping his smile.
You giggled as you watched how Atsumu’s face was stopped by Osamu’s hand as the rest of his body continued forward for a mere second. A sound of protest left Atsumu’s lips but Osamu’s voice greeted your ears, drowning him out. “We’re not changin’ our names idiot!” He shot over his shoulder at the boy now gripping his nose.
“Why I ought ‘a –” Atsumu went to move towards his brother but you fixed him with a glare and stepped between the two boys, ignoring the grumble that left Atsumu’s chest. You held his eye for a moment, a challenge, but both knew that if you were between them, neither would ever go for a hit.
“Go ‘head, Osamu. Knew ya wouldn’, grandma’d be mad at you.” You flipped your head back to Osamu, dropping the glare and painting a sweet smile on your face in its place.
“See,” he glanced over at Atsumu with a smug smirk, “knew she’d get it.” He rolled his eyes and his twin glared at you instead of him, blaming you for being in his way of the fight he wanted. “Jus’ new nicknames. I get ta be ‘Samu.” He looked at you proudly.
You hummed in thought. “’Samu.” You tilted your head and then smiled. “I like it!” You exclaimed and tucked your arm around Osamu’s waist.
“I picked it!” Atsumu said then, falling back into step with you both.
"Oh," you looked at him with a distasteful look, "well when you say that—” you looked away from Atsumu and tried to cover your smile as you locked eyes with Osamu, both of you knowing that you were just messing with him— “I don’t know about it.”
Atsumu made a sound at the back of his throat at your words, struggling to find his own. “But since ‘Samu likes it.” You smiled, trying your hardest to not giggle as you saw Atsumu throw his hands out in annoyance out of the corner of your eye.
He groaned before righting himself again, pulling his ego back together as easily as it had fallen apart. “Movin’ on ta me.” He'd clapped his hands together and slapped a smug smile back on his face. “’m gon’ be ‘Tsumu!” He shouted excitedly in your face.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. “That sounds dumb.” You said and smiled as a harsh puff left Osamu’s lips as he tried to keep his laughs down.
“’Samu came up with it!” Atsumu’s voice raised an octave, defensive as his jaw dropped at you.
“Oh, well when you say that—” you laughed lightly— “it’s a great name ‘Samu, good job.”
“Yer biased!” Atsumu shrieked at you then, voice cracking as he ran a hand over his face.
“Absolutely I am.” You'd laughed as Osamu squeezed your side in response. “That’s why he’s Thing 1 and you’re the Thing 2. I like him more, so he gets ta be number 1.”
“I hate ya.” Atsumu grumbled at the same time as Osamu smiled over at you with a “Love ya too.”
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AGE 12
Growing up with the Miya twins meant that when you started middle school, you started to find yourself at the Miya house more than your own. You'd spent more nights curled into Osamu’s bed than your own, preferring that to four screaming wake-up calls a night from your sister’s new baby.
You'd slowly found yourself more and more attached at the hip to Osamu and found Atsumu hanging around you both less. But in the middle of the night it was just the three of you and your meaningless talks. Atsumu and you, however, always stopped talking once Osamu fell asleep, keen to sit in silence amongst his soft snores.
It had been one of those nights when you'd woken to the room quieter than usual. Even with Osamu lightly snoring next to you, there were no sounds coming from the other bed in the room.
“’Tsumu?” You'd whispered it out, verbally reaching around the room for your other best friends, but there was no response.
You'd lifted yourself onto your elbows, looking around for a sign of him. The door to the room was lightly cracked and you tilted your head in confusion. You sighed, twisting yourself slightly to escape your blanket, and crawled over Osmau’s (might as well be dead) body. You were thankful that he was such a deep sleeper as you nearly knocked him off the bed.
Your bare feet hit the cold floor and you hissed slightly as you tiptoed toward the door. Pushing your way past it with a light creak of the wood, you heard a light and consistent thud coming from the back door of the house. Walking quietly to the slightly open door, Atsumu finally came into your view.
You rubbed some of the sleep out of your eyes and glanced over at the wall clock — 3 am — and then back to Atsumu, who was hitting a volleyball repeatedly, practicing his sets you assumed.
“’Tsumi?” You whispered, your voice laced with sleep as you tried to stifle a yawn. His eyes snapped towards you, momentarily forgetting about the ball until it smacked him in the face. He groaned and you couldn’t even find the energy to laugh at him. “Are you okay, ‘Tsumi?” You asked, stepping out and onto the porch and then immediately regretting your decision as the cold air surrounded you.
“Wha’ya doin’ up, a/n/n?” The nickname rolled off his tongue and usually you’d complain about the twist that he’d put on his brother’s nickname for you, but tonight, you couldn’t be bothered. You almost didn't even mind it. His face was flushed red from the cold despite the jacket wrapped around his shoulders and his breathing was uneven, eyes droopy.
“You were gone.” You whispered, stepping closer to him despite the cold that seeped into your body on all sides, raising goosebumps along your skin. “What’re ya doin’ out here? Its 3am, ‘Tsumi.”
“Couldn’ slee’.” He mumbled, abandoning the ball and walking up to you. “Came out t'think.” He motioned towards the abandoned throw blanket that was crumpled on the porch a few steps away from you. “Decided I needed t'practice.”
You sighed and waved him over to you, refusing to walk out any further. “Sit down. Calm down.” You sat on the porch and pulled your knees up to your chest. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips at the action and he fell onto ground next to you with a sigh. “Talk t'me.” You whispered, trying to stop your body from shivering. You were failing and Atsumu noticed.
He sighed and sat up, pulling the blanket over to you both and draping part over his shoulder. He held the other end in his hand and opened his arm. “C’mere.” You almost didn’t hear it, but you welcomed the gesture.
You scooted towards him and fell into his side. He wrapped his arm and the blanket around you and you sighed at the warmth. It seeped from him and radiated under the soft fabric, it slowly lowered the bumps along your arms.
“M’sure ‘Samu told ya he got setter on the team.” You sighed and nodded at the information Atsumu offered. “I wanted it.” He muttered, looking down. You knew that. Of course you’d known that. He thought it was the coolest position and Atsumu always wanted to be the coolest. “It all comes easy t’Samu. I have t'practice.”
“Not at 3am ‘Tsumi.” Your voice didn’t raise above a whisper, the warmth radiating off him and surrounding you seemed to make you more tired. “M’sure that you and ‘Samu will end up in the positions you were made for.” You yawned as you tried to reassure him. Your eyes fluttered closed as your head fell on his shoulder but you kept on. “But ya ain’t gonna get better by not sleepin’.”
“I like ya more when yer not bein’ a meanie.” Atsumu chuckled softly and pulled you a little bit closer to him. He played it as a joke, but there was a fondness that filled him at your assurance, a bit of calm that tugged on his mind.
“I like ya more when you're not bein’ a loudmouth.” You muttered back. You couldn’t bring your eyes to open again, but you could feel as his breathing began to calm down. “We should go back inside ‘Tsumi. S’warmer in there.”
“Jus’ a little longer?” he whispered back, a quietness about his voice that wasn't common. “I’ll keep ya warm a/n/n.”
You hummed in response and let yourself relax into him. “Jus’ a little longer, ‘kay?”
You didn’t remember falling asleep that night, or how you'd ended up back in the house. You could only remember waking up, curled up next to Atsumu instead of Osamu the next morning. You couldn't remember how you'd gotten there and neither of you ever spoke of it again.
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AGE 13
Your second year of middle school. Atsumu was at his house less when Osamu and you were both there.
'Tired o’ third wheelin’ ya two as ya bully me.' He’d claimed and told you both he'd picked up new friends and would still be around but that they 'don’t tease me as much.'
You’d both, of course, teased him desperately for it and mocked his claims of 'See, this s’why I hate ya both.'
You would have been lying if you said you didn’t miss seeing Atsumu’s face around — actually, yes, you would be, because Osamu had the same dumb face. The lack of Atsumu only meant that Osamu and you turned your teasing onto each other more. But you could admit that you'd missed Atsumu’s presence now and then, ever the dramatic one of the group.
Don’t get it wrong, you were all three dramatic at your own pace, in your own ways. Growing up with the Miya twins meant developing your own way to display your dramaticism, or over-dramatization.
Osamu may seem mostly inexpressive, but you could almost always tell from just a small crinkle in his eyes, a certain change in their glint, exactly what he was about to do. It was in private that you pulled the most emotions from Osamu, the playful ones and the shouting along at your excitement, not just the anger and competitiveness that Atsumu pulled out of him regularly.
You were quiet most of the time, alike to Osamu in that way. But your quietness seemed to stem more from your shyness than the actual large indifference to the world around you. You had an awful habit of becoming way too easily flustered and the quieter you were the easier you could hide stuttering remarks when you were flustered.
Now maybe you shouldn’t be called shy per se, cause it’s not to say you didn’t get a mouth on you when you wanted to. All your friends, the twins especially, knew that you had a bad habit of running your mouth before your brain caught up. A bad temper, awful habit of taunting, spitting sarcasm like a second language, and getting over-excited way too easily.
But the second Atsumu ran his loud mouth to start taunting you, the only thing that could make your face any hotter was the absolute terror that was Osamu joining him. If they were bad when they were against each other, they were worse when they were teamed up.
But it was an almost comforting feeling having the three of you together. So like you'd said, you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t miss having Atsumu around sometimes. But you’d also be lying that at every moment you were missing him. Because there was one specific moment you were happy he wasn't there for.
A specific moment where you were curled up with Osamu on the couch in the living room. Being the only ones home you'd both decided that watching a movie would be the best way to pass time. Neither of you had really wanted to do the homework you’d been assigned and neither of you had wanted to go out.
You’d made yourselves some food. 'No ‘Tsumu to steal it' Osamu had laughed as you did and pulled a blanket out to the living room to throw on the movie. It was an American comedy that you had already determined could count as studying since it was in English. 'To help us with learnin’ the language, ya know.' You’d laughed while stealing the blanket all to yourself.
It had been you stealing the blanket that had wound you both in the position you ended up in. He’d returned to the couch and nearly physically fought you, trying to wrestle part of the blanket out of your grasp. You’d fallen off the couch in the middle of the struggle, nearly knocking his plate off the table.
“Miysam!” You’d exclaimed with a laugh, your nickname for him flying off your tongue as you tumbled towards the ground. Your limbs tangled in the fabric so you couldn’t rid yourself of it at that point even if you'd tried. Osamu’s mouth had fallen open in shock as he looked down at you, slight worry in his features as his did.
Your groan had been faint as the half of your body in contact with the ground ached from the impact. “Ya almost lost our food. How could’ya.” You'd looked up at him betrayed and were immediately greeted with his loud laugh. The laugh that you had gotten used to sending a warm feeling spreading through your chest.
Your cheeks flared up as you wiggled in the blanket, struggling to move. “Help me out ya idiot!” You'd shouted up at him, trying to control your laughs as you'd squirmed.
“’ey!” He laughed out, grabbing his phone to take a picture of you before even attempting to help. “Ya wan’ help? Don’t insult me, clumsy.” He smiled down at you and then leaned down ‘til his nose almost touched yours. “Say the words if ya want help, clumsy.” He taunted.
Your cheeks had only grown hotter. “I don’t need your help.” You'd shrugged an arm free and easily caught him by the shirt collar, shoving him back towards the couch. He'd laughed as he collapsed onto the couch, drawing you up with him. You'd collapsed on top of him in a fit of giggles.
You had stayed like that for most of the movie, you half on top of him with the blanket wrapped around the both of you. You'd occasionally pushed food into the other’s mouth when you thought the other was talking too much, but towards the end of the movie, you were the only one with any food left.
The main character of your movie on the screen was admitting that she was 25 and had never been kissed before. You'd hummed in thought and lifted your head up from his chest looking up. “What would ya do?” He'd only looked down at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Ya know, if ya were 25 and’d ne’er kissed no one?”
He snorted down at you. “Not gon’ happ’n.”
“I don’ know.” You'd singsonged at him. “That snort was pre’y un’tractive, Miysam.” His jaw went slack and he'd shoved at your face lightly with a laugh.
He'd suddenly went quiet while staring at you. “Wha’ if,” he swallowed and looked to the side away from you, nerves buzzing, “wha’ if we,” he cleared his throat and you'd looked at him expectantly but he'd went quiet. Quieter than his normal self.
You'd caught on, after a moment, to what he was saying and your cheeks flared up again. “I, um,” you were like a dear frozen in the headlights of Osamu’s stare, “you don’ know what yer sayin’.” He sighed and propped himself up more to look down at you.
“Well I jus’ mean I ain’ had ma firs’ kiss,” he'd muttered, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, his grey eyes flitted back and forth across the room, “an’ I know you ain’ had yours yet.” He snuck a look at your face, which you didn’t think could feel any hotter than it was then. “Righ’? I’d’ve heard all ‘bout it.”
“I-” you'd swallowed hard and blinked up at him, thought about lying to him then, then realized you couldn’t, “well, no.” He looked down at you again, and you locked eyes with him, both of you holding your breaths. “I mean, at leas’ we coul’ tease ‘Tsumi ‘bout bein’ the only one ta have not been kissed.” You'd joked with a half smile.
He'd cracked a huge smile and snorted again. “Plus then we don’ gotta worry ‘bout the firs’time bein’ weird.” You'd took a deep breath and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah.” You'd looked at him again and felt your palms get sweaty. You remembered the internal debate, the question of were you really about to kiss your best friend from the last 7 years? The boy whose bed you'd slept in more regularly than your own. You'd might have been more comfortable with him than anyone else but you were both still just awkward 13-year-olds. “How-uh-how should we…” you'd trailed off and gestured awkwardly between the two of you with your hand, suddenly very aware of you were still laid on his chest.
“Um-” he'd looked at you just as awkwardly and shifted under you a little bit, “Gin was kinda talkin’ ‘bout tips for kissin' the other day.” He mumbled and you'd tried not to giggle as his smile turned more nervous. “Could I jus’ try?” You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you'd just awkwardly nodded at him.
He had been careful about placing his hand on your cheek and pulling your faces together. Just before your lips met, your noses smashed together and you pulled away from each other violently. “S’ry.” He winced scrunching his nose.
“A’least that won’ happ’n our firs’time now.” You'd mumbled with a small snort, rubbing your nose. “We can try ‘gain if ya wan’.” He'd nodded his agreement.
Blowing out a puff of air, he'd put his hand back on your face leaning to try again. He'd tilted his head this time and your noses didn’t clash again. You'd squeezed your eyes shut and his lips met yours hastily, pressing together harshly. He'd held you in place for a couple seconds before you both pulled back. Both of your cheeks were flushed, his ears a bright shade of pink.
“That was-” you'd trailed off again, searching for a description.
“Awful.” He muttered and you'd let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh than’ god.” You'd breathed out a laugh and he followed suit. “Thought i’might be jus’ me.” He shook his head and snorted. “Le’s not tell ‘Tsumi?” You asked wanting to forget that it had happened.
He quickly shook his head adamantly in agreement. “Ne’er.” You'd both quickly broke out laughing and separated. “Oh god.” Falling away from each other, he took the chance to suddenly lunge for your food and you screeched in protest.
“Miysam! No! Tha’s mine!” He'd shoved the food in his mouth as you moved to tackle him, both of you protesting, the awkwardness immediately forgotten.
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a/n this piece will forever be special in my heart but i'm breaking it into bite-sized pieces lol part two coming soon <3
TAGLIST - OPEN @faumpje
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