#i had a lot of trouble getting this done n i don't think it's as good as it could be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuluoyi · 2 months

Text

yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

MONTH TWO

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

MONTH THREE

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

MONTH FOUR

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

MONTH FIVE

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

MONTH SIX

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

MONTH SEVEN

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

MONTH EIGHT

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

4K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 2 months

Text

The Cute Ways Simon Riley Uses His Height to His Advantage

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Tags: fluff, height difference, kissing, teasing, keeping quiet, Simon being a romantic, good boyfriend Simon

A/N: Random and cute headcanon I wrote in a few minutes.

Simon would absolutely be the tall boyfriend who would reach for things from the top shelf for you. But also the one who would put them there so you'd ask for his assistance. This would be done discreetly of course, he thinks you're non the wiser but over time you'd put two and two together. You sure as hell aren't the one putting your mug up there. It looks nice next to his so you don't complain.

Also you get to feel his huge body pressed up against yours so there's that benefit. Another is that when you're brushing your teeth together he tends to stand behind you, leaning back a little, one arm holding you close and the other holding his toothbrush. You told him he could just wait until you're done but Simon likes this a lot more.

When you go out together it's impossible to lose sight of Simon, he stands out with his height no matter where you go. Which comes in real handy if you go and see a show, he can lift you on his shoulders easily. He can also spot free seats really easily, ensuring you never have to stand around for long. You might get some looks because he is so big, especially if you're on the shorter side not of average height.

If you're at the library he will always so the cheesy thing of handing you a book and then bending down to kiss you. He's seen it in so many movies and he always wanted to try it. The only thing he had to be mindful of was not making too much noise when your kisses got a bit heated. The last thing you both needed was to get chased out of there for making out like a couple of lovestruck teens in a romance movie. Would be worth it as far as Simon is concerned but he doesn't want to get you in trouble.

5K notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

um..so i just found your blog and HOLY SHIT I LOVE YOUR WRITING, especially boycunt Vox

anyway this is my first request, you eating Vox's pussy under his desk while he is at work

It's ok if you don't want to

but uh..bye

Boycunt!Vox x reader headcanons —

a/n — My finger slipped again and there’s more boycunt vox out there. Oh no guys what, as a society, are we going to do about this!?

warnings — boycunt, fucking obviously, sub vox, dom reader, fingering, use of a strap, vox gets tongue fucked a lot by the way.

So if you’re new to this blog and your not familiar with the concept of Vox with a pussy, let me sum it up for you; if he switches out his head for new models when he feels it’s needed, surely he can switch out or temporarily replace other parts of himself when he feels particularly… needy. Heres a short series of headcanons having to do with days like those, because frankly, i’m fucking starving. I feel like you could text him whenever, like he could be on the job or in a meeting, something along the lines of ‘oh, craving pussy tonight. what u thinkin?’ And he would sigh and excuse himself so he can make the switch quickly. I think he’d have to do it immediately because he’d probably get hard thinking of you toying with his clit. Y’know and getting wet is a lot less noticeable. Doesn’t make him any less needy throughout the day, though. Depending on how long until he sees you, he’d totally cave and finger himself in his office. Biting his lip and scrolling through photos of you with his fingers shoved inside his pussy. But the poor baby can’t even finish because it’s not your hand! Oh well, back to being needy for the rest of the time. I feel like he would love it when you eat him out. Like there is no logical explanation for why I feel this way, I just know for a fact this is true. How in my Lucifer boycunt headcanons he was all about the strap and was a total cockslut, don’t get me wrong, Vox is too. But using your tongue on him. Licking up his soaking folds, sucking on his clit as his drooly pussy leaks all over your chin. Maybe it’s because it’s showing how much you want him on such an intimate level. Because you wanting him would mean a lot (we all know about baby’s fear of rejection he literally had a temper tantrum on air about it.) So, don’t think I forgot, you eating him out in his office. Ugh, because you guys probably agreed on him having a pussy earlier that day for tonight. But of course he was having trouble waiting, bouncing his leg, squirming in his seat just thinking of your fingers, strap or tongue in him.

And see, at this point you know this happens. So you surprise him by dropping by earlier. Maybe teasing him a little bit in his chair, tracing your fingers on his thigh. All while he’s mumbling bitterly about how he still has work to do… and then your unbuttoning his pants and his head feels lighter… but he had that meeting later! And then you’re running your hands down his legs and pulling his pants down, all of the work he had to do slowly drifts away from his mind as you slide your tongue into his dripping cunt. Eagerly eating him out from under his desk, he’s whimpering and digging his claws into the surface. And then he’s leaning back in his chair and whining loudly. But then you pull away suddenly, and snap at him to ‘get back to work or you’re stopping.’ He’s obviously complaining like a bitch under his breath but he still tries because god knows he’d kill to make sure your tongue stays in him. Ugh, and when you’re get home later and totally fucking his brains out with a huge ass strap. His cunt is literally almost numb and he’s passed out in the bed by the time you’re done. And maybe on particularly stressful work days, he’d install his pussy completely unprompted and begrudgingly ask for it ‘gentle, tonight.’ Even if he just mumbled it under your breath in hopes you’d hear and not make him repeat it, you get the message. He sits on your lap and clings to your neck as you fuck up into him. Of course, it is more gentle than usual. You’re not rough with your thrusts, your rubbing his back the whole time, and your cooing in his speaker about how good eyes doing, and how pretty his pussy is. He LOVES being overstimulated by you. Sucking or pinching his puffy swollen clit or maybe fucking into him after several orgasms. Until he’s crying and sobbing beneath you. Also literally EATS UP fingering. He loves it so much. Ask, and i’ll elaborate.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel vox #dom reader #vox x reader #inbox open #vox smut #sub vox

496 notes · View notes

angelwithdemonictendencies · 4 months

Text

all my life i've been frozen, forgive me if i wince at your warmth; kiss my blue lips and say the frost brings out my eyes.

jd6 x reader: maybe roommates wasn't the best idea (sugar pt. 2).

(warnings: blasphemous filth (we're back, and this is a good one), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (f on m), hair pulling and spit and all my usual stuff (you guys know. legs and lips and all that nonsense). lots of whining and whimpering from the ducks defenseman with the giant traps. descriptions of general insecurity (but of course!). know yourself and your limits, please don't read if you're not 100% sure).

(a/n: alright, my favorites. here you have it, the promised continuation of my jd6 sugar piece from halloween (so please read that here first so this makes sense)! and yes, it's long (11.1k), so thank you, as always, for your support and kindness and patience and gentleness. congratulations to jd6 for his return to the big leagues. this is his prize, i'm sure he'll be thrilled. it appears it's impossible for me to write a story without using tz11 as a comedic side character. obviously there is nothing realistic about this, such is the upside of fictitious writing. can you tell i had an idea for like two scenes and then filled in all the blanks? (been wanting to write gaming chair head for a million years). if you relate to the more serious insecurities addressed within this story, know i'm here for you. please believe that it is so utterly and completely fathomable that people are and will be attracted to and interested in you! anyways, please let me know what you think (and who/what you want next)! go canucks (and all-star qh43). until next time, all my love).

it had taken little convincing on either side for jamie to move in with you. it was sort of funny, how not so long ago, it had been only you in your apartment, and now he was there, too, evidence of him all around.

a few months in, you had almost forgotten what the fridge looked like without his recovery drinks lining the shelves, what the living room smelled like without his favorite candle burning, what the mudroom looked like without his shoes and bags littered around the door.

you had grown accustomed to him, in his entirety, and the more he revealed about himself, the more trouble you had remembering what this place had been like without him.

it seemed so crucially important that you knew about his culinary endeavors (he was trying ever so hard to branch out beyond chicken and rice). it seemed of the utmost significance that you understood all of his favorites of everything, and that he knew all of yours in return. because if you didn't, one of you might bring home a flavor of ice cream the other didn't like, or flowers the other didn't like the color of, or something like that.

and if he didn't know the names of your favorite movies, how would he be able to talk to you about them? and if you didn't have a little bit of a grasp on the gaming world, how could you keep up when he rambled on about it?

you told yourself it was only polite that you knew about his interests, and his family, and his friends, and his dreams. that he was only being polite when he asked about all of yours.

you were sort of shocked at how quickly he had made his presence known within your routine. his schedule merged with yours on the calendar attached to the fridge. his friends came over to play video games, yours to watch movies.

you were proud of yourself for how you had handled his moving in, really, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't have an effect on you. he was the same blushing, stuttering, beautiful boy who had dropped that plant in your doorway, after all.

and you were acutely aware of the effect he had on you, from that very first day. he didn't seem to let you forget it, like the night, a few days into your new arrangement, when you went into the kitchen around midnight to get a glass of water.

something you had done, time and time again, almost every night, alone. so you were startled, to say the least, when you felt a figure behind you. you whipped around, your heartbeat elevated, thudding in your chest, in your neck.

you placed a hand over your heart to still yourself when you recognized that shaggy dark hair, square face, broad build.

"fuck, jamie," you practically whispered, your voice tense, "you scared me." you made to pour him a glass of water, willed your body to emerge from danger mode.

"'m sorry, petal," he murmured, and his tone alone could have set your body ablaze, rumbling through you like an earthquake. "didn't mean to." apology thickened his words like cornstarch.

"'s okay," you said as you passed him the glass, took a sip from your own.

if it was light you would have seen his eyes track the motion, how his gaze seemed to get stuck on your lips around the rim of your glass.

there was something very heavy about sharing this space with him, especially now, in the cover of the night. you felt freer, almost indulgent, in taking him in. less guilty in your secret wanting. suddenly your brow furrowed in concern. "did i wake you up?"

he shrugged, took a sip of his water, which made your swallow shaky. "walls are thin," he rasped. "just wanted to make sure you were okay."

your exhale was shallow as you took in his words. this exchange in the dark was too dangerous, too much. you made to go back to your room, stopping to place a wanting palm on his corded shoulder as you passed him. you felt him flex instinctively under your touch, suddenly wanted, simultaneously, to be anywhere but here and to never leave. "thanks for checking on me, jamie," you whispered. it seemed to have been so long since someone had done that.

there was a pause full of uncertainty. "'course," he replied, rough and rolling.

you were so, so, close, and such a predicament could have ignited the foundation of the building in all of its seriousness.

that exchange, so early on in knowing him, nonetheless had you promising yourself that you wouldn't let your relationship with jamie grow beyond anything besides roommates. just roommates, you said, and that's it. anything past that boundary was too dangerous, too charged, too soaked in meaning and feeling and wanting.

but such a promise was proving hard to keep, even months later. because as comfortable as you had grown to each other, there was something so deliriously uncomfortable about being so close to each other, so ridiculously entwined in each others' days, and yet not touching, not indulging the desire you both so felt. so scared to look desperate, to be caught red handed in want, even if that was exactly true.

regardless, such a promise was proving hard to keep, especially on days like today.

you were sitting at the kitchen counter, one leg pulled up to your chest as you sat on a stool. you still worked at the same coffee shop, and you still loved it, but you had picked up some copywriting jobs here and there, too.

naturally, you looked up when you sensed another figure enter the room. your gaze caught on a very sleepy jamie with a very sleepy smile.

"morning," he said, his voice rough and raspy with remnants of night.

you felt your mouth tick upwards in response to his presence. "morning, jamie," you replied, shifting on your stool, willing jittery attraction out of your voice, out of your head. there was no space for that here, you told yourself. you cleared your throat as he made himself a cup of tea. "doing anything fun today?"

he turned to you, leaned his frame back against the counter, a movement so comfortable it made you blush. he hummed, thinking, before meeting your eyes. "nothing out of the routine," he mused, his gaze on you making you feel his attention in your feet, in the tips of your fingers. "when're you working? maybe i'll swing by."

your chest thumped at the thought of him taking time to come see you, even though that wasn't necessarily rare anymore. he visited your coffee shop at least once a week, but the sentiment of it all wasn't lost on you. the preciosity of someone deeming you worthy of a drive, however short.

you leaned on your clasped hands, scrunched up your nose in gentle pleasantry. "two to close, today," you told him, "but you don't have to come."

his eyes softened ever so slightly, his expression all maple syrup and pancakes on a lazy sunday morning. "want to, petal," he told you, taking his mug and starting back towards his room. "give me something to look forward to, eh?"

you were glad to hear his door swing shut behind him, if only so that he didn't see your face scrunch up further in guilty delight, at being his something to look forward to.

if jamie had settled into being your roommate, your favorite coworker had not settled into that fact. or maybe she had settled in, but it didn't appear that she would be giving you or him a break anytime soon.

it had only been a couple of months, and she had yet to go a day without bringing him up, nevermind going a visit without saying something you were sure would embarrass him.

as promised, after his workout and skate, the bell above the door jingled. you swore the sound was louder, more jubilant when he opened the door than any other patron.

he's here, the bell seemed to sing, finally, finally, he's here! you fought the urge to shush the inanimate object.

"well, well, well," your coworker said, wiping down the counter, "honestly, 6, i'm shocked you had any time to stop by, given your packed schedule of not shooting the puck."

you shook your head at her. "don't be mean, lovely," you chastised. you locked eyes with jamie, molten chocolate and stained glass. "i'm sure you shoot just enough."

his returning grin was carefully confident. "right as always," he told your coworker, "if we had a coaching opening i'd put in a good word."

this quickly spurred your coworker into a heated rant about how poorly the coach of the ducks was handling his roster full of young talent.

you began the process of making his drink, the one he insisted on ever since that first day. he had told you before that nothing could possibly be better than your fall themed treat. as you shook the maple syrup and espresso with ice, you missed the way a flush dusted across the bridge of his nose, like a day out in the sun.

your coworker did not miss this, however. she smirked, tilted her head. "a bit hot in here, drysdale? you look a little flushed."

he shot her a look, one which she mimicked before you turned to hand him his drink.

"here you are," you said as his hand closed over yours around the to-go cup.

your mind sparked and sputtered at the feeling of his warm hand over your fingers. he could have grabbed under your hand, the hopeless romantic in your head screeched. he could have avoided your touch, but he didn't!

but you had long ago resigned to refusing to listen to the hopeless romantic, in all of her desperate and shameful loveliness. you couldn't trust her, you had learned. she only ever left you feeling lost and longing.

so you silenced her, ignored her big, teary eyes as you dismissed her for the thousandth time, pulled your hand away.

"thank you, petal," he said, so genuine and sweet, so exactly him. it seemed cruel that you still weren't used to him, to his kindness, that he was still evoking this kind of response from you.

your only solace was that he didn't seem to be finding it especially easy, either, if his flickering gaze or flexing hands were anything to go by.

"you're welcome," you replied. "headed home now?"

he hummed in affirmation, rocked back on his heels. "when will you be home?"

you could have sighed at just how domestic it all was, like some kind of sixties fantasy. honey, i'm home! echoed in your head.

but you shut that down as quickly as it appeared. "why?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, "expecting company, or something?" your mouth quirked. "maybe a girl?"

he paled, and you were surprised at your nerve, too. you didn't really know why you were doing this, why you would ask. you and jamie didn't have that kind of relationship, and why would you ask that anyway, when you knew for a fact one of the possible two answers would cut through you like a warm knife through butter?

thankfully, your coworker broke the tension with an exaggerated laugh, actually slapping the counter before looking up and clocking both of the confused looks turned her way. "oh," she said, looking between the two of you, "was that not a joke?" she nodded. "alright then, my bad."

jamie gave a short shake of his head as if mentally moving on. "no one's coming over," he said to you, "just wanted to know when i should make dinner."

in a cartoon, your heart would have beat out of your chest, through your shirt and folded apron. "i'll be back at seven," you told him. "i'll see you then?"

his smile warmed the room. "see you then, petal."

the bell rang, this time dreary and disappointed, as the door shut behind him.

your coworker immediately turned to you, eyes teasing and playful.

"if you're gonna say something, lovely, just say it," you prompted, taking out the closing checklist.

she was practically buzzing on her feet. "tell me you've given up on your no fraternizing with roommates rule," she begged, clasping her hands for emphasis. "tell me you realize how obvious you're both being."

you waved her off, shook your head. "the rule is there because it's important," you chided, "and there's no way he's into me like i'm into him." a line you had used about almost every guy you had liked, repeated so many times in your head it was practically a hymn.

she folded her arms in front of her chest, rolled her eyes. "when you're ready to come to terms with people finding you attractive and interesting and wonderful, as you are, let me know," she called out over her shoulder as she went on her smoke break.

her words stayed with you, though, because they were meaningful. it was hard for you, dreadfully so, to even fathom that someone could find you worthy of their time, their energy, their attention.

even when you were actively flirting with people, acting confident, like you were that first day when jamie walked into your coffee shop, it felt as false, as foreign, as theatrical as shakespeare in the park.

why was it so easy for you to give all of that to others, why did you want to give it to them so desperately? why did it feel like such an impossible ask for someone to give that to you?

her words were burrowing in the back of your mind as you locked the front door of your apartment behind you, breathed in a delicious smell, maybe rosemary? thyme?

you let yourself drift into the kitchen, were met with a freshly showered jamie in pajama pants and an old ohl t-shirt. he stood over the stovetop, humming something, before turning and meeting your eyes, sending a spark flickering through your veins.

"welcome home, petal," he said, his full lips quirking up in that gentle smile you had come to crave.

"long time no see," you teased, knowing it had been only a couple of hours.

his gaze was full of something heavy when he tilted his head, heaped some pasta onto two plates. "felt long," he admitted, "the house is so weird without you here."

your stomach flipped. he couldn't just say things like that, you decided, if he didn't expect you to melt completely, a puddle of pink glitter glue on the hardwood floor.

"weird how?" you asked, hating yourself for pushing.

your mother's voice was jarring, harsh in your head. don't fish for compliments, she always said, it's vain.

now that you were older, you wanted a chance to respond to her. is it fishing for compliments if you never get any? if all you ever hear is how you could do better? you took a breath. is it so wrong to want to hear something good?

jamie didn't appear to think you were being vain, anyways. "weird like quiet," he said, gentle and soft, "i don't know, honestly, just different. it's better when you're here."

you couldn't help but blush at his words, even though you had asked for them. the mother in your head scoffed.

you smiled at him, so genuine you could feel your eyes crinkle at the corners. "i think it's better when you're here, too," you said, low and loaded like a secret.

suddenly the air between you grew thick and heavy, simmering with something the reason in you knew better than to identify. you held each other's gazes for a moment, almost begging, daring the other to do something.

you had never been the kind of person to pick dare during sleepover games, always felt truth was the safer bet. now, there was nothing safe about the truth, either. you cleared your throat, fidgeted with your fingers, dropped your gaze and asked him about practice, what he made for dinner.

do you think about me like i think about you? you wanted to ask him. have you ever wanted me to just hold you after a long day? have you ever thought about what my lips would feel like on your neck?

you shivered, pushed the thoughts away as you ate dinner together, tried to lean into the privilege of spending time with him, even if you wished for something more.

can't this be enough? you pleaded. why isn't this enough?

the words of your routine spun around the two of you like a whirlpool. work, skate, game, lift, dinner, road trip, copywriting. the words of your combined schedules swirled around your head.

better those that the other words, always lurking around the two of you like childhood monsters under a bed: eyes, heat, lips, sweet, gentle, soft, shoulders, arms.

you must have zoned out, because he waved a hand once in front of your face. "petal?"

you shook yourself out of your trance-like state. "sorry," you said, already feeling the familiar flush of embarrassment.

he fixed you with a look. "for what?" he asked, less confused, more curious.

you closed your eyes for a second, took a deep breath. why was he making you explain this? "i mean, i was probably staring at you, right?" you said, feeling the shame of it prick you on the fingers like a thousand needles.

his gaze dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before meeting your eyes again. there was a silence, and when he spoke again, his voice was husky. "you can stare at me all you want, petal."

you could have whimpered, could have screamed. don't say things like that to me, you wanted to tell him. tell me things like that every second until i die, you also wanted to say.

"really?" you whispered, too starry-eyed to cringe at yourself. your food lay forgotten in front of you. how many times had you eaten dinner together, just like this? how many times had you pushed this feeling away? was it possible that he was doing just the same?

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, a self-satisfied move from him you have never really seen before. you rubbed your crossed ankles together.

you took a breath, a last beat of courage, before reaching across the counter and brushing his hair from out of his eyes. his skin scorched your fingertips, his eyes made your breathing slow and shallow. "you can stare at me, too," you said to him, pulling your arm back.

his eyes were full of understanding. "i know," he told you. "i do."

that knowledge was still haunting you days later. that he noticed you, registered your presence, like you did him. how could you ever act normally again, knowing this? how could you ever act without the constant weight of him around?

so you did the only thing you could think of - you ignored him, avoided him, hoped to skillfully evade his careful gaze, however much it hurt you not to see him, to talk with him, to ask him how practices and games went.

such a task became impossible when the bell clinked cheerily, the following weekend, signifying you and the coffee shop of the arrival of its favorite patron.

you looked up, halfway surprised to see him enter with another person, too, a teammate you had met, you were sure of it, but one you couldn't quite recall the name of. the two of them approached the counter in a shroud of laughter and easiness.

apparently, your coworker recognized the friend, too, because upon their approach she began a slow, sarcastic applause. "gentlemen," she said, "allow me to congratulate you on a recording breaking game last night."

jamie and his friend shared a look. "um," jamie began, careful, "we lost last night."

"oh," your coworker finished an order and set it on the pick-up counter. "i should have clarified. the record was for laziest defensive performance i've ever witnessed." she gave them a quick thumbs up. "congrats again! know you guys have been working real hard for this one."

jamie shook his head lightheartedly before locking eyes with you, smiling slightly. you hadn't really spoken since the other night, but you still didn't really know what to say. you didn't know where you stood, what lines were still drawn.

thankfully, your coworker refused to drop it, not leaving any opportunity for silence, now speaking directly to the newcomer. "i'm so happy you're here, 11," she continued. "you know that you're allowed in your own defensive zone, right? feel free to cross the red line, i think you'll find that defense makes winning a lot easier."

the object of your coworkers jabs turned to jamie. "am i supposed to take this?"

jamie shrugged. "i usually do."

she waved him off. "yeah, but you're hoping i'll put in a good word with your roommate." you blushed at her words, hope sparking at the possibility of them being true.

jamie didn't drop your gaze. "yeah, and how far is that getting me? you gonna put in a good word?"

every fiber of your being told you not to take his words at face value. every fiber of your being wanted to.

she scoffed. "yeah, right. if anything i'd just say you're a pushover."

the newcomer scrunched up his expressive face. "well, in that case, why don't you keep your thoughtful advice to yourself?"

she tilted her head back and laughed. "what, 11, can't take a little feedback?" she pouted, false pity all over her face. "guess you're every bit the flashy bust they say you are."

"no one is saying that!" he fumed, "literally name one person who is saying that!"

you and your roommate stifled your laughter as their argument grew.

you made him his drink, handed it over. his face was gentle, soft as took the cup from you. "you're avoiding me," he said, not accusatory, a simple observation.

you couldn't lie to him and say you weren't, so you only stayed quiet.

"i miss you," he said, so simple and genuine in its honesty that you could have cried.

"i miss you, too," you said, easy as an exhale.

his gaze glimmered. "so watch a movie with me tonight, yeah?"

your mouth twitched, because you wanted to, so badly, but you didn't know if you could trust yourself.

he shifted back and forth on his heels. the sun dripped so languishingly over his brow, down his jaw and neck. "please?" he asked, and you were done.

"okay," you conceded, butterflies already fluttering to life in your stomach at the thought of spending tonight with him on the couch.

a thud and a grunt shook you both from your conversation as you turned to your respective friends. your coworker appeared to be throwing bags of coffee beans at jamie's teammate. "can't hide behind a ref now, can you?" she taunted the lanky newcomer, who struggled to catch the bags.

"this is the behavior of a deranged fan," he pointed out, placing the bags back on the counter. "i hope you realize that."

"you wish i was a fan of yours," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "on an unrelated note, can i take a video of you wishing my little brother good luck on his math test tomorrow?"

the video was filmed, reluctant thanks and apologies were given and accepted.

"i apologize for the physical assault, but not the truth, 11," your coworker conceded, "and you're only getting any apology at all because this is going to mean the world to my brother."

"can't you just apologize normally?" you pushed, looking to make the rest of the patrons more comfortable, the energy less combative.

"tell you what," she said to him, "if you put in some effort next game to something besides michigans and between-the-legs shots, i'll give you the best apology you've ever seen."

jamie hissed. "he's gonna take that in a way you won't like."

his teammate leveled your coworker with a smirk. "do i get to pick how you apologize?"

she scoffed, an angry flush all over her face. "no, you don't get to pick! what the hell is the matter with you?"

you and jamie shared a look at their bickering. see you at home, petal, he mouthed to you on the way out, argumentative words still saturating the air.

bye, jamie, you mouthed back with a wave.

when you got back from work, called out your greeting, settled in, and changed out of your uniform, you found him on the couch, were all too happy to join him, however off limits it felt.

he felt off limits, like this, all messy hair and eyes tired with the day, worn-in sweatpants and sweatshirts from junior hockey and lazy stretches that revealed slivers of skin.

you lifted up a blanket, pulled your knees to your chest underneath it, avoided his gaze. "your friend's a character, hm?" you started.

he shifted his posture to get a better look at you, even though he was now faced halfway away from the movie he was in the middle of. "who, trevor?" he gave a playful roll of his eyes. "ignore him. he thinks your friend's hot and doesn't know what to do about it."

"that's him flirting?" you said, eyes wide, words spoken slowly for emphasis. "good grief, his act needs some work."

jamie's smile slanted into something dangerous. "what, wouldn't work on you, petal?" suddenly the blanket over you seemed like entirely not enough coverage. you felt completely exposed as you gave a slight shake of your head. he draped a heavy arm along the back of the couch. "no?" he paused, forced you to meet his magnetic gaze as he ran a hand through his hair. "what would work on you, then?"

you searched his eyes for a drop of humor, of teasing, of something that would hurt you, as you had long ago trained yourself to. you could sniff out potential abandonment, embarrassment like a bloodhound. but you came up empty, with him.

what could you say to him? that anything that he does, anything he could ever do, that's what would work on you? that he works on you?

your careful silence could have been a banshee scream into an open expanse as the air between the two of you again adopted that rolling flame, that lick of heat up your bare legs.

your eyes widened as he tugged your feet and calves into his laps with one hand, gently but firmly, just enough so that you could feel the warmth from his thick quads pooling in the backs of your knees.

just close enough to want more. just close enough to know you shouldn't.

"'m picky," you said, almost out of breath, swallowing your uneasiness down until the only thing you felt was him. "not into the interest disguised as insults."

he hummed as if he understood, ran his fingers over your shins, feather-light, so much so that later you would wonder if you had only imagined he had touched you. "so what?" he said, meeting your eyes in the dim light you had long ago deemed especially dangerous. "like to be called pretty, petal? like it when they make it, so, so easy for you?" his fingers dragged across your ankle in an electrifying way that had you forgetting about your promise. "like when they go slow?"

you let out some kind of strangled sound, halfway between a nervous laugh and a whimper. because you did like all of those things, of course you did. you liked proof that people cared about you, how could you not?

you couldn't even dwell on how delicious the word pretty sounded in his mouth, how much you wanted to taste it, because something else in his wording willed confidence into your body, clarity into your head in place of guilt.

"who's they?" you asked, your voice steadier than it had been in weeks.

"hm?" he asked, rough.

"i said," you repeated, shifting your body until you rested on top of his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. "who's they?" you were closer than you had ever been as you felt him underneath you, almost chest to chest. so close you could feel his breathing stutter against you. you brushed his messy hair from his face until you could see his eyes in all of their gorgeous truth. "i don't care much about them, jamie."

something rumbled in him, something you felt in your bones. he looked so, so beautiful, and his mouth was right there, and was he tilting his head closer to you? and-

"jim! when the hell are you gonna give me back my blender?" your door swinging open and shut might as well have been a strike of lightning as you scrambled away from each other. trevor's voice cut through your apartment like thunder, like a cold shower.

in a moment he appeared in the doorframe, suddenly eyeing the two of you with the suspicion only a best friend could muster. he gestured between the two of you, now comically far apart on opposite sides of the couch.

"what's going on here?" he asked.

jamie tilted his head back again, wiped at his face with both hands. "sure, yeah, come on in," he said to trevor through his fingers.

"how did you get in here?" you asked, you voice still dark with want, the aftermath of confidence still lacing your tone.

"key," trevor said, waving you off as if this piece of information wasn't relevant. "why?" he looked between the two of you again, eyes narrowed. "'m i interrupting something?"

silence followed. you didn't look at jamie, and he didn't clarify. "no," you said finally, not angry, but knowing the moment was over. "i guess not."

and so you pulled yourself up, made your way back to your room, every inch of your skin buzzing, every heartbeat a burst of electricity through your body.

voices grew fainter as you neared your door.

"if you'd just give me back my blender this wouldn't be such a problem," trevor hissed.

"and you couldn't've shot me a text? figured you'd just break in to my house?" jamie's voice was resigned. you knew he could never stay mad at his friend.

"it's not breaking in if you gave me a key, scumbag."

you shut your door behind you and collapsed onto your bed, still feeling the phantom of his body underneath you, the ghost of his fingertips digging into your hips. you groaned into a pillow, hating that when you closed your eyes all you saw was his full, pink mouth.

the next day, when you relayed all of this new, and not so new information to your friend at work, she shook her head slowly.

"i don't know," she said, pouring a double shot over ice, "but it sounds like you've either gotta make this thing serious or check out your other options." she shot you a look. "no more of this pining bullshit."

you whacked her with a rag playfully, but sighed. "i can't make it serious. and i don't have other options, so looks like pining's all i got."

"tell me you're kidding." she glared at you. "i've had like three friends just in the past week come in and text me after asking if you're single."

you scrunched up your face. "no, you haven't," you said, knowing there's no way that could be true.

"callin' me a liar?" she prompted, pulling out her phone with her free hand and scrolling until she found one of the texts, facing it to you.

sure enough, there was a message from some guy, some ordinary name, asking if she'd set him up with the "smoke in the canada hat," referring to the hat you had borrowed of jamie's earlier this week.

"whatever," you said, "it doesn't really matter."

"it does matter." your friend set the drink down on the pickup counter and turned to meet your gaze entirely. "it matters to me that you find it so hard to believe that people are into you." she grasped for one of your hands, held it firmly.

her touch was welcome, and so were her words. because honestly, you knew why you found it so hard to believe. because even though you had a pretty good relationship with yourself, even though you knew now that you were beautiful, and smart, and funny, and kind, when you were young, you didn't know that. when you were young, the people you were closest to were basically telling you that you weren't those things.

flashes of tense family dinners, long car rides during which you were the butt of every joke shot across your mind like meteors, just as destructive.

saw you talking to a boy today during lunch, one of your older siblings would say after a long day, maybe middle school, maybe sophomore year. is he your boy-friend? the words slow and taunting, malicious, immediately making an angry, embarrassed flush break out across your face.

don't be ridiculous, peanut, your mother would scold your sibling from the front seat, it's rude. and it's not like she was wrong, the boy you had been talking to wasn't your boyfriend, but it stung like a wasp nonetheless.

why is it ridiculous? you wanted to ask, tears brimming, hot behind your eyes. would that really be so hard to believe?

or countless calls with your parents during your first year of college, each more demeaning than the last. you know you're allowed to date, right? your mother might say. you know we aren't strict about that kind of thing. you held back a bitter and sarcastic congratulations.

i know, you would say, trying to hide the defeat you felt at the disappointed sigh she had done such a poor job of hiding.

every not-so subtle jab landed deep, until even the words put yourself out there induced a physical reaction.

it hurt to think about allowing yourself to want, to be wanted, because what if they laughed in your face? what if it all really was ridiculous, all this time? what if it really was hard to believe?

you sighed, now, squeezed your coworker's hand.

"how about this," she proposed, her eyes as soft as you had ever seen them. "how about i set you up with one of my friends who's interested, just one date, and we see how it goes? no pressure, and i'll make sure he knows it's no pressure. think of it like practice."

you thought for a moment, bit your lip. you could use a stress-free practice, that much was true, and you trusted this friend to not set you up with a sleaze-ball. and, you confessed, if you wanted to fizzle out whatever was going on with your roommate, this would probably be a good start.

so you agreed. the decision was made easier by the fact that jamie was on the road this week, so you didn't have him to distract you. the day of your dinner date ended up being the day he was set to return, but he wasn't supposed to get back until the middle of the night.

you wouldn't have to explain yourself to anyone, or even tell anyone how it went, if you didn't want to, you reminded yourself. just practice, no pressure.

and the guy was really sweet, honestly. he was good-looking, too, if not a bit more lanky, taller than the guys you usually went for. he asked you questions, and seemed to care about the answers, and you found yourself in a full conversation with him pretty easily.

but then something in your mind would catch on his shoulders and think not big enough to sink your teeth into, and then on his mouth and think he'd never call you petal, and then on his cheeks, which didn't blush the whole night, not even once.

and he was a really nice guy, but you found yourself wanting to invite him to join your friend group's book club, not invite him back to your place. you found yourself thinking quite intently about a certain person who was not, in fact, the man sitting across from you at the table.

which was fine, you realized, because this is practice, and he doesn't have to be the one. practice means you can find a friend.

so, with a smile, a shared admission that you would like to get to know each others as friends, and a promise to send him the address to the next book club meeting, you left your first date in forever feeling proud of yourself.

on your way back into your apartment, you sent your friend from work a thank you text before making your way to your room and changing into something more comfortable.

you settled on sleep shorts and an old t-shirt before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, breathing in the smell of steeping chamomile when a sound behind you made you jump.

thankfully you would recognize that frame anywhere. you exhaled. "jesus, jamie," you breathed, "thought you wouldn't be back 'til later."

he stepped forward, the light so dark and dim and dangerous, especially after not seeing him all week. the slope of his high cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw, the deep pooling of feeling in his eyes. it all rushed at you a million miles an hour and stole your breath.

"got in early," he explained, his gaze ever so slow down your figure, like he was mapping it, committing it to memory. "were you out?" he asked, his voice suddenly rough.

you swallowed, thinking about what to say. a pause settled between the two of you, thick like mud, decadent like chocolate pudding.

i missed you, you wanted to tell him. tell me you missed me, too.

he inched closer still, leaned against the kitchen counter as you busied yourself with stirring your tea with the tea bag. "don't wanna tell me?" he mused. "how could that be, petal?"

you didn't meet his eyes, suddenly feeling childish. "went on a date."

you were both silent, for a moment. you looked up to check if he was still there. "and why didn't you wanna tell me?" his voice was gravelly.

your hands were shaking, you realized, so you set down your mug, crossed your arms against your chest with a sigh. "he was nice," you admitted, didn't quite miss the green flame that sparked across his gaze, blinked out in a moment. "but i was distracted." you looked down at your feet.

then he was right in front of you, a step apart. it had been so long since you had been so close, and the memory of what had happed that last time burned between the two of you, unspoken, yet the most obvious fixture in the room.

you looked up to meet his curious, careful gaze, wanted so badly to lean forward, sink into his broad chest, breathe him in and never stop.

"by what, petal?" he asked, so close you could practically feel the words on your own lips, his tone so low and heavy your stomach dropped.

you swallowed, watched his eyes track the movement. "you," you said simply, honestly.

and then his eyes searched yours for a single telling moment before his hands came to cup your face, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that held a million i missed you, i missed you, i missed you's.

you let out some soft noise into his mouth at the lovely pressure of his lips against yours, so firm and knowing. you pressed yourself so closely against his chest, one hand on his collarbone, the other grasping around his neck.

he leaned forward into you so pleasantly before moving his arms down to lift you by the waist, setting you down gently on the top of the counter, moaning when you fixed your hands in his hair.

you swallowed down his sounds like elixir, wanted every single one of them, as his wide hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips slowly. you raked your hands down the back of neck delicately, enough to relish in the shudder left in their wake.

finally, you both pulled away, only just, only enough to slow your heaving chests, enough to selfishly see the effect you both had on the other. matching glossed over gazes, swollen lips, exhales heavy with unspoken words.

you pushed some of his hair from his face, soft under your gentle fingers, could have swooned at how he was looking at you, right now. like there was no one else in the universe, like the stars existed only for you.

"i have to go home tomorrow," you said, suddenly, like a ridiculous idiot, wanting to shove the words back into your mouth as he traced light circles across the tops of your thigh. why did you say that?

but his expression didn't change. "i'll come," he said immediately.

your heart jumped, but you didn't want him to come and see your family, really, because family gatherings never were the most flattering, for you. "you don't have to," you said, "i know you're busy, and it's just for a little bit, just for the day."

"i'll come, petal," he repeated.

your mouth quirked, just a bit. "yeah?"

"yeah," he said, a drowsy smile slanting across his face. a smile you couldn't say no to, a smile you just had to feel against your lips.

a smile that meant, the following morning, you were standing on the front step of your childhood home next to jamie, who was holding a potted plant.

"you know you didn't need to bring anything," you said after you rang the doorbell, jittery with nerves. how long had it been?

he only pinched you lightly in the side. "swear i won't drop it this time, petal," he said with the easy tone that calmed your nerves, if only slightly.

and then the door was opening, and you were ushered in among a flurry of hugs and exclamations of it having been to long.

your older brother said you looked different, your mother said you needed to visit more often. you had the sinking feeling that coming home was a mistake.

then came the inevitable. "and who's this handsome young man?" your mother asked in a sugary sweet tone that made the room smell like the dentist's office, at least to you. "is this that friend from work you told me about a while ago?"

you opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it again, slightly confused, maybe disappointed? other people's parents assumed they were dating any person they spoke to, which you were sure was its own beast, but you had actually brought someone to a family meal and your mom thought he was your coworker?

"uh," you started, struggling to find your footing. "this is jamie."

you wanted to put your forehead through the tastefully muted wallpaper of the mudroom, but jamie only shook your father's hand, endured awkward hugs from your mother and siblings, handed over his plant with practiced grace.

you felt your hands tremble ever so slightly, willed them to still, begged any courage and confidence to show itself, but your chest was tight, like your lungs were filling up with polluted water.

jamie caught your eye, registered your defensive stance, gave you a look full of softness and acceptance before stepping to your side and pulling you in for a gentle side-hug, his embrace strong and sure in all the ways you were not. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, lips you still felt the memory of on your mouth, lips that sent a shiver of stability down your spine. "much better than last time, eh, petal?" he said, looking down at you, still tucked into his side. "no dirt under your nails, this time."

you couldn't help but give a slight shake of your head, squeezed him tighter in a way you hoped said thank you.

when you looked back up to your family, there was an almost comical look of surprise in your mother's eyes, a look of extreme boredom in your siblings'.

you father cleared his throat. "brunch's ready," he said, urging your mother to lead you all to the dining room.

jamie pulled out your chair for you, leaned forward to your ear when you sat down. "look so pretty today," he whispered, his voice a low rasp, only for you, only to help you settle, only because it was the truth.

"you know, jamie, she's never brought someone home before," your mother said at some point during the meal, like it was some kind of inside joke between the two of them, a joke you were not a part of. she shared some kind of look with him, but his face was blank. "honestly, we were starting to get worried." your father and her gave light laughs, laughs that made your stomach roll with anxiety, shame.

good god, couldn't they give you a break? you pushed your food around your plate, very much not hungry, very much wanting to leave.

jamie didn't laugh, though, didn't indulge them, didn't pretend like he was in on their joke. "worried about what?" he asked, his expression and tone entirely plain and curious, waiting patiently for elaboration that never came. his question was met with flickering glances between your parents, nervous laughter dying in their mouths.

you looked down at your plate again, bit your lip to hide your smile, reached under the table to squeeze his hand. he squeezed yours right back.

the rest of the meal was fine. soon enough, you were saying your goodbyes, doling out your own awkward hugs along with vague assurances that you would be back soon.

"and it was so wonderful to meet you, jamie," your mother said, a hand on his forearm, "know you're welcome here anytime."

you pushed aside the spark of jealousy within you. what would it be like to know that for yourself? to feel welcome in this home, whenever you wanted?

jamie just looked at you with that molten softness in his dark eyes. you pushed his hair from his face, the way you had grown accustomed to doing, more a comfort to you at this point. he leaned into your touch, however slightly.

"thank you for having me," he said, politely, before looking at you once more. "'m honored to be the first person petal's felt comfortable enough to bring home."

you could have melted at how genuine he sounded, at the idea that he was honored to be around you, of all things, at all.

when you were both in the car, you turned to him. "you didn't have to say that, you know," you told him as he pulled the car out of the driveway, started the trek home.

he just kept one hand on the wheel, took yours with the other. "wanted to," he said, glancing over at you with a steadiness that was impossible to deny. "meant it."

a smile came easily to your face, a flush came easier. he lifted your hand to his mouth, lightly pressed his lips to the top of it, making you shift in your seat with poorly hidden delight, perfectly warm all over.

you arrived back home, and fell back into your routine.

jamie dropped you off at work the following day, rolling his window down when you got out the passenger door. "petal!" he called.

you turned, that grin that seemed to be every-present around him on your face. "yeah?"

the faintest of blushes began to prick at his cheeks. "can i have a kiss, please?"

you were all too willing to comply, leaning against the side of the car and pulling his lips to yours with a gentle hand on his jaw. "see you later?" you murmured against his mouth, butterflies so alive in your stomach you half believed they would fly up your throat. he nodded, a little dazed, promised to see you after your shift, as he had the day off.

the lovely dizziness began to dull as soon as you entered the coffee shop, as there was a very unexpected guest behind the counter with your friend.

"have you never even heard of a latte?" your coworker seethed, the words hard and angry through her teeth.

"feel free to call this off at any time, sugar," a smug trevor drawled, wearing an apron and a haphazardly drawn name tag.

you set your things down and began to tie your own apron around yourself. "afternoon, lovely," you greeted your friend before looking at the newcomer. "trevor."

he nodded to you with a smile in a greeting of his own before the espresso machine started making a menacing sound.

you took the next customer's order, began to prepare it. "do i wanna know why you appear to be an employee today?"

"lost a bet," he said, looking at your coworker, who grimaced.

"we agreed that if he didn't block five shots against the hawks last week, he'd work a shift," she crossed her arms over her chest. "but already this is more of a punishment for me than for him."

he turned up his smile to the megawatts.

you shook your head with a laugh. "you know this is breaking, like, a billion laws," you said, pouring soy milk into a cup. "we can't just hire randoms to work a single shift."

trevor placed a fake-offended hand over his heart. "i'm not some random," he clarified.

"according to california law, you are," you said, matter-of-factly, finishing off the drink and placing it on the pickup counter.

"oh, whatever, 11, just go," your coworker said, exasperated, "you've already messed up like twelve times in the last two hours."

he pouted, teasing like a kindergarten bully, all grown up. "you wound me, sugar," he said, turning around slowly. "untie my apron for me?"

she took off her bucket hat and whacked him with it. "don't think i've forgiven you, either," she said, pointing a warning finger at him.

"wouldn't dream of it," he cooed, taking out him phone. "haven't i earned a drink for my troubles? jimmy won't be here for another five minutes."

you scrunched up your brow. "jamie?" you groaned for him, "wish you'd called it quits like two minutes earlier. he was just here."

both your coworker and trevor whipped their heads around. "jim dropped you off?"

you nodded. your coworker gave you an impressed grin, held her hand down low for trevor to slap in a high-five. "let's go," she said, pumping her fist.

you rolled your eyes at the two of them. "so the goon squad is working together, now?" you asked.

trevor rested his elbow on the top of your friend's head, making her hiss and bat his arm away. "best team around," he said, smugly, before looking at his phone. "time to go," he stated, accepting the two drinks you pushed into his hands with a thank you. "until next time, sugar," he said, looking at your friend.

"the red line won't hurt you unless you let it," she called out behind him.

you immediately started peppering her with questions about her bet with jamie's teammate, trying to get her to admit she didn't hate him as much as she let on.

"jamie says he just thinks you're hot and doesn't know what to do about it," you told her before she went out back for her break.

she fixed you with a look. "you can tell jamie that his friend better find out what to do about it." you laughed as the door shut behind her.

the rest of your shift went by terribly slowly. it wasn't that busy, and, honestly, you really missed jamie. you had only just found out what his lips felt like on your own, after all, and now you were having a hard time thinking about anything else. no one should feel this overheated, this distracted, while trying to steep peppermint tea and froth oat milk.

too many times, you lost yourself in daydreams about what his thighs felt like underneath you, how his fingers would feel like in your mouth, what his hand would feel like, gripping your hair.

you just wanted to be close to him, as close to him as possible.

by the time your coworker was dropping you off at your apartment, your mouth was practically dry with want, and if someone were to call you desperate, you weren't sure if you would have it in you to care.

you locked the door behind you, the silence in the kitchen and mudroom telling you he was probably in his own room, probably gaming.

you could have whined, thinking you would have to wait until he was done until you could kiss him, touch him, feel him how you wanted to.

you lasted pretty much as long as it took you to change into more comfortable clothes. undeniable want had you rapping your knuckles lightly against his door, exhaling gratefully when a soft come in wafted through the air.

and then the door was open, and he was there, exactly as you had thought him to be. his headset pushed his messy hair up in different directions, his knees spread wide, his posture relaxed.

he made eye contact with you, something warm shining in his gaze as he pushed his mic away from his mouth. "hey, petal," he rasped, his voice weary with use. "you're home."

you nodded, bit your lip, twisted the sole of your foot into the ground slowly. "know you're busy," you said, soft, almost bashful, "but can i just sit with you?" you swallowed down any shakiness. "couldn't stop thinking 'bout you at work."

you knew he wouldn't laugh at you, but were splendidly pleased anyways when he simply nodded, let that smile slant across his face, opened up his arms in invitation, contentment obvious in his expression.

you breathed out and crossed the room to where he sat, lowered yourself onto his lap as he spread his legs apart wider to make you more comfortable. you crossed your legs over his thigh, leaned back into his chest, let the warmth and feeling of him envelop you like a fog. his arms came to reach around you as he kept playing, fiddling with his controller. you could have fallen asleep here, if you weren't so alert, if every inch of your body didn't feel like it was slowly catching flame.

you hummed, shifted your hips back against him, making him let out a soft grunt. "getting comfortable?" he whispered, to which you nodded, smiled, leaned your head against his chest.

you tried to stay still, watch the screen as he played, but something about feeling his breaths against your back, the heat of him pooling in your neck, the firmness of him underneath you, it made you restless, impatient.

so much so that after maybe a few minutes, you were craning your head up to press your lips lightly to his jaw, his throat, just behind his ear, twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

he let out a groan, low and dangerous. "thought you just wanted to sit," he said, his mouth quirking up, a tightness to his voice that hadn't been there before.

"changed my mind," you mumbled into his shoulder, grazing your teeth over his deltoid.

"be patient, petal," he rumbled, "wait 'til 'm finished, hm?"

you pouted against his jaw, figured you had done months of waiting, if you counted back to that first day. more than your fair share. you were done being patient.

so, instead of waiting, like he had asked you to, you wordlessly pushed yourself from his chest, sank down to your knees into front of his chair, gently placed your palms on his thighs, forcing his attention to you.

his gaze settled on you like heavy sediment, scorching, bubbling. when he spoke, you felt it against your face like a caress. "fuck, petal, dreamt of you like this."

your smile was slight, sly. "what? on my knees for you, jamie?"

he gave an almost pained shake of his head, made some strained sound of refutation. he set his controller down and pulled off his headset, tossed it aside as you tugged at his sweatpants, rolled your hand over him, hard and hot.

he tilted his head back, groaned. "dreamt of you lookin' at me like this," he confessed, words thick with revelation, "like you want me."

something almost religious passed between you, because what was this, if not something worth worshipping? something built on devotion beyond logic, beyond better judgement?

"i do want you, jamie," you said, finality swimming in your heated tone, "i want you so, so bad."

you bit your lip to hide your grin when he whimpered at your words, his eyes screwing shut as you took him in your hand, spit onto his cock, pumped him up and down before running your tongue along the length of him, drinking in his sounds greedily.

he rooted his thick hand in your hair, draping it away from your face as you sunk your mouth down onto him. "fuck," he choked out, slow and strained, "fuck, petal, you can have me."

you moaned around him, grounded by his grip, the pleasant tug on your scalp, urged him to the back of your throat until your eyes began to water, until his thighs began to tense, before retreating again, peering up at him, eager to take every inch of him in, like this.

so unguarded and uncontrolled, knowing he was thinking only of you, pure want dripping down his frame and face like watercolor, this image of him made you acutely aware of just how wet you already were.

you tugged your hand up and down him again, grinned when he shuddered. "taste so good, jamie," you rasped, running your thumb along the tip, "'ve wanted your cock in my mouth for so long, baby."

his chest rose and fell as he moaned, desperate, overwhelmed. his thumb circled your jaw as you continued moving your hand, spitting onto him again. "should've told me, petal," he whined, "would've given you anything you wanted." his voice shook, you felt his muscles tense again as you took him in your mouth again. "waited so good for me, hm?"

you hummed, held him in your mouth, hollowed out your cheeks until tears broke your waterline, his grunts telling you he was close as you let your nails dig into the tops of his thighs.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he breathed, "feel so good like this, petal, too good, can't hold on." his grip in your hair tightened, his hips bucking up, hitting a deeper spot in your throat. he made to pull back, but you only moved your head with him, swallowing around him until you tasted him on your tongue, his moan resounding in your head like an organ in a cathedral.

only after he finished did you pull your mouth up off of him, tilted your head onto your elbow, which was resting on his thigh, red with marks from your clutching hands. you watched him come down from his high, watched his lashes flutter as his eyes opened, felt his grip loosen in your hair and his hand come down to rest under your chin, as gentle and affectionate a touch as you had ever felt.

he led your mouth to his, lifting you off of your knees, slanting his lips across yours like a smile before pulling away, looking at you for a moment, tracing your mouth with his thumb. "look so pretty like this, petal," he praised, low and steady, "so fuckin' perfect."

and you blushed, because you knew how you looked.

you knew that your face was flushed with exertion, knew that spit ran down onto your chin, knew that your lashes were clumped together with tears, knew that your lips with swollen and your neck shone with sweat.

he kissed the corner of your mouth anyways, looked at you like there had never been anything more beautiful. "let me taste you, hm?" he murmured against your skin.

you shivered with pleasure at his words, but whined. "need you so bad, jamie," you pleaded, "need you inside of me." you peered up at him through your lashes. "please?"

he shifted until you hovered above him, tugged your shorts aside, ran his fingers through your folds and cursed at how wet he found you. "anything you want, petal," he rasped, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking you off of them. "fuck, pretty girl, askin' me so nicely, hm?"

you nodded feverishly, reached under you to find him impossibly hard, again, before angling him to you and sinking down onto him, your knees on either side of his hips.

his head fell back at that first feeling, your mouth dropping open as your body pulled taut at the stretch. you whimpered when he reached behind you to pull you to his chest, changing the angle, while he shifted under you, both of you breathing heavy, searching for something to stop you from floating away.

you settled on letting your heavy head drop to his neck, letting shaky exhales escape past your teeth, melt into his collarbone like snowflakes on windowpanes.

he clutched at your waist, began to slowly move his hips, lifting you up and down in a rhythm that burned behind your eyes, that you felt on your tongue, in your toes.

"how do you feel like this?" he whispered, practically to himself, as if in a dream, as he kept up his pace, slow and brutal.

"like what, baby?" you breathed, picking your head up and beginning to fuck back onto him with more force, wanting to feel him harder, deeper.

"fuck," he whimpered, searching for an answer, his messy hair falling into his face, sticking to the gloss of sweat shining on his brow, "better than i imagined, petal. so perfect, made for me."

you moaned at his admission, reached around his neck for support. "been thinkin' 'bout me, jamie?" you asked, an almost cocky grin peeking through.

"so much," he whined, picking up his pace now, causing you to choke down a strangled moan, "fuck, petal, was worried you'd hear me through the walls."

his confession shot right to your core as you clenched around him, imagining him trying to keep quiet, touching himself, thinking of you. you dug your nails into the back of his neck as he laid a hand across your stomach, pressed down until he could feel the outline of himself inside of you, moving in and out.

the sensation was so intense that you had to shut your eyes, the pressure inside of you pulling so tightly you bit your tongue.

"like that, hm?" he said, only the faintest trace of smugness in his tone. "like that i thought of you with my hand around my cock, petal?"

you nodded, moaned your affirmation, felt yourself grow so deliciously close.

"thought of you, just like this," he breathed into your neck, still pushing at your stomach, hitting somewhere impossibly deep inside you, hard and fast. "squeezing me so perfect, making those pretty sounds for me."

"'m so close, jamie," you pleaded, your voice wrecked, your jaw aching, "please make me cum? need you so bad, been needin' you for so long."

his neck tensed under your palm as his thrusts grew sporadic, his breathing labored. "fuck, petal, cum on my cock, yeah?" his other hand gripped your hip so hard you knew it would leave a mark. "been such a good girl for me."

you came apart at his words, collapsing onto his chest, clenching down on him so completely that he reached another high, warm and absolute. he stilled, both of your chests rising and falling against each other. you ran your fingers soothingly over the back of his neck, he rubbed circles into the sides of your hips as if in a daze.

finally, when the fog cleared like falling rain, you pulled back to look at his face, flushed, long lashes framing heavy lids, his gaze thick and syrupy with affection.

you lightly swept the damp hair from his forehead, pressed a gentle kiss to his brow that made him smile up at you lazily.

he ran his thumb along your cheekbone. "wanna stay in my room, tonight?" he asked, cheekily, like you were kids planning a sleepover, scheming up the best way to ask your parents.

so you just nodded and laughed, and he kissed the laugh from your lips as if it tasted of sugar.

fin.

#hockey #hockey smut #nhl #nhl smut #smut #jack hughes #jack hughes smut #quinn hughes #trevor zegras smut #jack hughes x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale smut #anaheim ducks #quinn hughes smut #jamie drysdale x y/n #new jersey devils #luke hughes smut

694 notes · View notes

the-mighty-e · 1 month

Text

Okay so... I was doing a md rewatch before ep 7, and I noticed something in ep 4 that I NEVER noticed before.

In the scene where V covers up Uzi, when she sits down, I always thought she was frowning. Cuz like in ep 3 she's starting to realize that worker drones don't actually care about death anymore or smth like that.

BUT NO

SHE'S ACTUALLY SMILING IN THE SECOND IMAGE IM GONNA BE SICK

And after noticing that I started thinking back on her behavior with Uzi and realized how much she actually cares about her.

Look at her smile. She's starting to care about the workers smmmm Im crying

Okay now for Vuzi. In ep 4 V initially saw her as just a "purple thing", later on as Cyn. But probably N saying "what did I say about antagonizing her?" got her thinking. What if she was really antagonizing her? That's why she covered her with the teacher, and that's why she smiled.

Now, episode 5 doesn't have much about them. We know that V remembers stuff from her time as a worker, so we know that she got once possessed by Cyn. She would be the only drone ever to understand what Uzi is going through. (another reason why she protected her in ep 4).

This reflects in ep 6. When Alice cuts Uzi's finger she can be seen flinching.

Idk about you, but it's kinda strange for V, the most insane out of the trio, to flinch when someone's finger got cut off.

This further proves just how much V started to care about Uzi. Same when Alice and Beau died and she was trying to escape the Sentinels. She immediately rushed to save Uzi, even if she just witnessed her getting fully possessed for 5 good seconds by Cyn

She didn't have to save her. She could've ran away, leaving Uzi to be killed by the next sentinel that passed by. But she didn't. She brought her back to N and Tessa, holding her tightly

And of course.

When they saw the Doll trap.

V immediately went to protect Uzi, getting extremely worried too when she was about to use her solver

This shows just how V started to like Uzi. She initially saw her as a thread, another Cyn, a thing and a monster. But after the sky therapy she probably saw herself in Uzi. Someone who's always been alone, someone who the solver can control however it wants. A poor possessed worked, confused and scared.

Moving to her sacrifice. The very first time V called Uzi by name instead of dumb nicknames. Immediately before she was smiling after N said that they still needed her. But she didn't believe him fully. They could do well without her, she probably thought. She had done nothing but cause troubles with Uzi. She wanted to make it right

Giving her full trust to Uzi, giving her life to Uzi. She was literally half possessed by Cyn but V still decided to trust her. And then she smiled at her.

That smile, immediately after the "I trust you" meant a lot coming from V. That smile was to assure Uzi that she doesn't see her as an enemy anymore.

Okay rant is over because I'm tearing up.

I love Vuzi so much I love tragic yuri 😭

#murder drones #murder drones uzi #uzi doorman #murder drones v #serial designation v #vuzi #v x uzi #violetviolence #murder drones analysis #murder drones angst #tragic yuri

395 notes · View notes

chaepink · 10 months

Note

K so imagine this:

Tutoring Hinata or Kageyama, (either one works cause they're both in desperate need of kicking up their grades) fucking them in a serpent's embrace-type position while they complete a study guide you prepared but edging them until they get 100% accuracy. Them breathily sighing out answers and occasional whines. Drilling the content into their heads while drilling them with the strap

Studying session | sub!kageyama tobio

wc: 1.4+ words | masterlist

dom!reader, begging, edging, pegging, reader is mentioned to be able to lift him up, slight spanking, degrading

note : i feel like i wrote this weird...

When you suggested that you would help tutor Kageyama for his upcoming test, he thought it was all going to be flashcards, tests, and strict tutoring. Although you did bring a study guide that you made for him to use, he didn't think you would propose an idea that made the whole situation a lot more interesting.

"Is the answer-" He cuts himself off with a whine as you continue fucking him with your strap. Every bounce of his body sends shocks throughout him.

"C-C?" He lets out another breathy whine as you smile. "That's right," you say, speeding up your movements.

The next question is harder, a question about information that Kageyama had trouble memorizing. It doesn't help that he's rather close to cumming either, with his hips jerking up and down, trying to match the pace you're setting.

"Is it C?"

"Sorry babe, but that's incorrect." You slow down your thrusts to an almost complete stop as Kageyama sobs at the lack of pleasure.

"N-No! I was so c-close, please!" He turns to you with tear-brimmed eyes, begging you to continue with your movements. You quietly shush him as you wipe away the tears that are about to fall.

"Shh, it's okay. There are still a few more questions left and you've done so well so far. How about you get these last ones correct and you'll get a reward?" He nods hesitantly at you, turning back at the study guide.

You begin your previous actions again and start slowly fucking in and out of him again. While it's enough to make him feel a bit of pleasure, it's still not enough for him. He needs more!

Though he was hesitant at first to agree to your... unique method of tutoring that includes some pegging, once he got into it, he began enjoying the idea a lot more. Of course, he's not going to verbally tell you that but you can already tell by his begging and actions.

With his back to your chest and him sitting on your lap, you're able to slip your hand under his shirt and play with his nipples every once in a while as he tries to answer the questions correctly. This also means that even a slight movement of your legs sends a bolt of pleasure up his body due to the strap in him moving as well.

"T-The correct answer is ngh! i-is B."

"That's correct." He whines as you speed up your actions. He can tell that you're purposely increasing the pace less than you would usually, knowing that it would drive him crazy.

As you ask him every remaining question that's left, he gets it right. All that's left is a particularly hard one that you may or may not have put there as the last question on purpose, knowing that you would have made him agree to your idea.

Kageyama takes some time thinking (although he can't do it very well, not when you're still inside him) before telling you his answer to the final question.

"Correct! That's awesome, baby." You give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so proud of you for finishing all this." A grin makes its way onto your face.

"You know what you get now, right?"

He twists his head to look at you, a blush adorning his cheeks as he stutters out an answer.

"A r-reward?" You smile at him.

"That's right." Grabbing him by the hips, you gently lift him up enough so you can slip the strap out of him, eliciting a whine out of him.

"[Name] w-what are you-"

"Don't worry, you'll get your reward. Just lay flat on the table."

Obediently, he does what you tell him to and lays his body on the table in front of him, making sure to remove the papers on it first. Due to how low the piece of furniture is, his knees lay nicely on the floor. He's in a near-dog position with his elbows on the table and you swear you can almost see a doggy tail waving side to side behind him.

You can't help but lick your lips at the view. Kageyama, your oh so adorable boyfriend, presenting his ass to you as he turns around and looks at you with innocent, pleading eyes. His current state hugely contrasts his usual stoic and serious demeanor.

You can just ravish him then and there, but you have to take it slow first. It's his reward after all. Grabbing him by the hips, you position your strap to his hole.

"Ready for your reward?" Instead of a verbal answer, Kageyama teasingly shakes his ass at you and you tsk, giving it a small slap. Kageyama whimpers at the delicious pain.

"Such a tease, aren't you? I need a verbal answer."

"Fuck y-yes."

In one smooth motion, you enter the strap inside him and begin fucking him with slow yet deep thrusts. Each and everyone one of them elicits a moan out of him.

It's not long until you eventually speed up and begin fucking him at a faster pace than before, one that has his knees weak, eyes about to roll back, and breathless. God, it feels so good, he thinks. The strong grip you have on his hips hurts but the slight pain only adds to the pleasure he's feeling.

You lean forward, your chest almost touching his back. Although he's lowering his face toward the table, you can still see how red his face is. With this new position, you're able to fuck him from a whole new angle as you talk into his flushed ear.

"I'm fucking you so good, isn't that right? I can tell by the way you're crying and moaning like a bitch in heat."

You teasingly blow cool air onto his ear, enjoying the way his body shivers.

"y-yes you're ah! f-fucking me so good!" He lets out another whimper and as you take a peek at his dick, you grin as you see how hard and red it is, pre dripping onto the floor.

"Answer this question, baby." You grab the study guide you made for him off the floor and put it in front of him, showing him a random question.

"f-fuck is the answer-" He cuts himself off with a choked moan as you hit a particular spot in him that has his toes curling and head thrown back, eyes rolling.

"What's that? Repeat it for me."

"i-is the a-answer D?" You shake your head, however, you don't stop your movements this time.

"That's incorrect. You got this right just minutes ago too." You feign a pout even though you know he can't see you. "Such a shame. Is it because I'm fucking you so well that you've turned stupid? Is that it? You've been fucked dumb, hm?" Kageyama nods, too fucked out to even process what you're saying or doing to him. All that he feels is the pleasure you're giving him.

"Before I was drilling all that information in your head now I'm drilling this strap in you, isn't that right? And you're enjoying it so much too."

Your thrusts continue to turn rough and the pace increases, making Kageyama let out of near scream as you hit all the right spots in him. His arms give up under him and he's laying flat on the table now. His knees are about to give up as well but the only reason they aren't is because you're holding onto his hips.

He's close, you know it.

"[Name] p-please!"

"Please what?" He lets out a choked sob at your feigning innocence. Another thrust from you steals the breath right out of his chest.

"i-im close! ah! pleaseplease-"

You pretend to think. "Hm... i don't know. You have been doing good when i was tutoring you though..." Kageyama immediately peeks up at you, face flushed even more and he looks like he's about to cry. How cute.

"i did good, i s-swear!"

"Alright, go ahead then and cum."

And he does. He lets out a moan loud enough that you have to cover his mouth, making sure the neighbors don't hear how much a slut Kageyama is.

He makes a mess all over the floor as his arms fall out from under him. Pulling out of him, you hear him whine as he clenches around nothing.

Oh, you just know he'll come running towards you every single time he needs tutoring from now on.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

2K notes · View notes

munsster · 1 year

Note

hii!! i'd like to request a steve harrington x fem!reader fic pls <33 reader confesses to steve, but he says he doesn't like her. then reader's all 'okay fine, i'm gonna move on' and when she actually does that, steve is 🥺 lots of angst please and some steve grovelling teehee <33

gut feeling

A/N: okay yes 😏 i screwed this up the littlest bit, but i hope it still tickles ur fancy. also i’ve seen this done for king!steve and i wanted to write it for s4 steven

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have big feelings for Steve, he’s just not sure he feels the same way. 3.6k words.

Warnings: angst, but it resolves into fluff, unrequited love trope, lots of feelings, friends to lovers?, CURSING!, italics, established friendship, feat. Keith 😑

"You think it would be gross if we kissed?"

Steve thinks you might actually sound hurt, but he also thinks the face he's making is hilarious beyond belief: kind of contorted and screwed inward, nose scrunched and trying really hard to batten down a grin. You glare at him from the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over your green Family Video vest.

You think he's wonderful despite his naiveté. If only he knew how handsome you thought he was, all caramel locks and big brown eyes and the kind of smile that reaches his eyes before he's even thought of it. No wonder he has an ego up to the moon. No wonder he still manages to weasel his way into the creases and crevices of any living creature's heart. Even yours. Hell, especially yours.

"Yeah, duh!"—and he's so sure of it, you could cry—"You're like the little sister I never had!"

You chuckle but you look like you're about to hurl yourself out of the car or get yourself arrested for manslaughter. Thank God he's only a block away from your house, or he'd never see the light of day again. Does he really think of you like that? The soft laughter peters out into a grating silence that burns right down your throat and feels like hard metal settling in your lungs.

He doesn't dare glance over at you. He only bites down hard around nothing and grimaces, eyes set hard on the lines dashing beneath the grill of his car. Jesus Christ, he does not think of you like that. And he begs whatever stupid pride is keeping him steady in this nonexistent pissing contest to leave it be, but its jaw is set in the tender meat of the game.

"Don't have to be so jovial about it," you grumble.

"What?"

"Mine's on the left," you grumble, nodding out the window. Oh, he's definitely in trouble. You only ignore him like this when he's done something boyish to a fault.

"I know. I drive you home every—hey!"

"Bye," you coo, booking it up the steps to your door, refusing to turn over your shoulder for fear that you'll burst into tears upon seeing him smile or frown or crack the slightest look of confusion.

He watches you slam the door and rolls the passenger window up with a frustrated sigh. Where the Hell did that come from and why. All while you're sitting against the foot of your bed, chattering into the phone at Robin, still wearing your uniform and tugging at strands of your hair as expletives weave themselves between every three words.

"Oh my Fucking God, I'm so fucking embarrassed right now, Robs—Does he—? Does he think I'm some sort of fuckin' baby? I just don't—"

"He's just being Steve, okay? He probably didn't mean it—"

"The way he looked at me, Robin, I felt like a fucking imbecile. Of all the dickheads in the world I could fall for, my heart chose Harrington? Maybe I'm the idiot." You sigh and kick your feet out, the frustration winding up new nerves and letting them go like tight springs to fling out over your body.

She sighs and it rattles through the grainy speaker. "You're not an idiot; he has his moments. Don't beat yourself up, you know how he gets. He's probably not thinking straight, just... tell him? The worst he can say is—"

"That I'm like a sister to him? Oh, how delightful. That's even worse than just flat out admitting I'm unattractive."

"You're not unattractive, don't do that."

"I am to him," you groan.

"Hey," she hums after a beat of crackling silence. You close your eyes and grip the sickly yellow receiver a little tighter.

"I really like him."

"I know."

"And it sucks."

"I know." The other end rustles and you let out a curt sigh just as you move to stand. "I love you, and I'm here for you. Especially when dumb boys make you feel like shit. You'll always be the most amazing and most beautiful girl in my life, don't forget that."

"Thank you. I'll see you, Robs."

"Take it easy."

—

Steve wakes up to an ache in his neck and a soreness in his knuckles. You didn't call him last night. And he's assuming you didn't call him before school this morning because his alarm clock flashes eleven, first period starts at eight-thirty, and the tone his ancient landline emits is shrill enough to deafen a man. Let alone wake him up in a cold sweat. He concocts a sick feeling in his stomach of burnt orange shame and maroon guilt because he has to wait until closing shift tonight to explain himself to you.

But by then, he's feeling spiteful. You weren't home when he went to pick you up and he waited ten minutes and knocked on the door in bulk. Until someone who was not you answered and told him that you'd gotten a ride with some jerk from the Hawkins High football team. That's not how it was originally said, but that's how he heard it. So you're avoiding him? It makes him spit up a little in his mouth, and he's going about twenty over the speed limit the entire way to make it on time.

By the time he can fling open the glass door and hear the sound of the tiny bell, he spots you in the back corner with a stack of tapes under your arm. Listening to music. To drown him out. And it makes him frown. Six hours. That's how long he'd have to endure this, then he could go home and not call you and not be able to sleep.

The casette in your Walkman can only run for so long, right? But he watches you rewind it after an hour and a half and slumps against the front desk when you grab a new stack of tapes from behind him. He simmers down after the first half of the shift, and of course, the fact that you won't talk to him rubs him the wrong way, but what's even worse is that now you're bumming rides off of losers on the worst football team in all of Indiana.

He gets worked up thinking about that guy's motivation and how many times he probably tried to make a pass at you. Steve would never do that to you. Even if he wanted to, he's a gentleman at heart. He could beat that jerk to a pulp just imagining him giving you the look. God forbid that sucker puts his hands on you. Steve would get charged with battery before ever letting that happen.

It's not like he can say anything to you about it either. He's pissed, and he knows himself. He'd get all angry and confrontational, and you deserve better than that. It's his fault you got there first, and it's his fault you got to stocking, and it's his fault you're tuning him out. But he didn't think what he said last night would be worth all that trouble.

"If you keep up the optic blast, I'm gonna buy you a ruby-quartz visored monocle." And that droning voice could only belong to one overbearing manager.

"What do you need, Keith?" Steve grumbles, and out of the corner of his eye, he catches you looking to the front of the store to watch the encounter with a smirk.

"Duty calls, Harrington. Corporate sent us more shelf space. Need someone to unload it into the office," Keith murmurs, shooting a glance your way, "And, uh... it's kind of unwieldy, so get the kid to help you out."

It makes Steve's eye twitch because you're not some kid. And if you heard Keith refer to you as such, you'd unleash a fleet of curses on him. Only Steve is allowed to call you that. Because it's funny, duh. You're a year younger than him, obviously he's going to use that to his comedic advantage. Oh.

He lets out a sigh—"alright"—and leaves Keith to man the front while he skirts to the back of the store and leads you by the hand through the office.

"'The Hell, Harrington?" you hiss, but you keep your fingers locked between Steve's, abandoning the rest of the tapes on Keith's desk and jogging to catch up with his stride. As forward and demanding as his grip may be, you have to admit, the warmth of his palm is comforting and it makes your heart race because you've never held hands with Steve before. And in any other circumstance, you might've been able to enjoy it a little more.

"Keith told me to tell you that you have to help me bring a shelf in from the truck."

"Oh, I have to?" you bark, now pulling your hand away and putting your headphones around your neck once you exit through the back door with him. "And you didn't think to give me a warning before yanking on my arm?"

"Yes, you have to, and maybe if you weren't listening to that shit so loud, you would've been in the loop." It comes out far more harsh than he intended, and that was exactly what he was afraid of happening in a confrontation with you. His brow softens, and the tension in his upper back and jaw dissipates into his own self-pity party. "And I didn't yank on your arm. Or at least I didn't mean to, so I'm sorry for that much."

Steve hops up into the truck and offers you a hand you don't take as much as you both wish you would have. Because he looks like a kicked puppy, and you have to stop yourself from cheering yourself on. Maybe this will be your first literal step towards getting over him. Once and for all.

After about fifteen minutes of heaving and ho-ing, the two of you manage to haul the shelf into the office as per Keith's request. He was right: it was unwieldy. The awkward grip spots caused a lot of overlap, and you both flinched away from the physical contact in a matter of milliseconds. But Steve couldn't deny he felt bad, and you couldn't deny that you definitely still had feelings for him.

You grab your previously abandoned stack of tapes to scurry out of the office, but Steve stops you by the elbow. And you glare back at him.

"Sorry. The... yanking, I know"—he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down—"Look, I'm not entirely sure what happened last night in the car, but it clearly made you uncomfortable, and I'd like to apologize."

He can see the neurons firing when he looks you in the eye, but he can also see that his apology wasn't effective in the slightest. Because you're still anger-ridden and fuming at him. You put your headphones on and go back to restocking shelves.

He checks the digital clock above the door. Two hours till eleven. Great.

And they creep by like refrigerated molasses. Second by second. Every time he glances at the clock, only a minute has passed. Eventually, though, he starts cleaning up for closing: vacuuming, cleaning the windows, fixing the display. And he finds himself getting a little more efficient at checking tapes back in and rewinding them only so you'll cruise by the front—scowling at him, but nonetheless at him—to grab a new stack and shelf it.

Five minutes to closing and a sleek, blue sedan pulls into the parking lot, and you practically beam at it, grinning and skipping to the front. You grab your bag from under the counter next to Steve's hip and shove your Walkman into it.

"You know, my car works perfectly fine," he grumbles, "don't have to replace me with some football jerk." He knows that struck a nerve because your smile immediately flickers away into a squint.

"That football jerk is bilingual, a painter, and lets me listen to the music I like in his car."

"But that's not the rules," he whines, desperately defending himself against some sports guy who's probably taking advantage of you.

"Well, I like him and he's nice to me." You sling your bag over your shoulder triumphantly, marching towards the door.

Steve is aghast at the implication. He thought you liked listening to the radio. Plus he took Spanish and art for the required two years, it's not that great of an achievement.

Still, he sputters out, "Yeah, well—"

You wave over your shoulder. "Later, Steve."

Since when did he become such a loser.

He watches jerk-face open the car door for you then glance over to wave at him with a perfect smile and perfect hair and perfect manners. What an asshole. Steve does not wave back.

—

"That's the kinda guy she likes?" he fusses into the phone, palming his face while Robin chuckles on the other line. This whole time he thought for sure you liked the self-assured, cocky, college-age boy type. And now you're dating a high schooler. Come on, jerk-face is not even that good looking.

"First of all, they're not dating. Second of all, don't lie to make yourself feel better; even I can admit he's basically a Greek god," Robin says, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Third... why do you care? You’re acting like it’s your job to protect her, but it’s not. She’s an adult now, you know, she can take her of herself.”

He lets out a puff of air through his nose, blinking hard and leaning into the pale yellow receiver. Then mumbling: "She told you."

And she replies, cheerily: "Yup."

"Well—! I just... don't want to see her get hurt. I know that type of guy. I used to be that type of guy. He's bad news, I can tell."

"Right,” Robin scoffs, “It's definitely not because you love her.”

"I don't love her. She's just a baby, and we don't even like the same things. It would never work out between us, there's no connection." They both know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s worked up until this moment. It’s worked since the day you met. You’re too young, the end. Sure, you can be cute sometimes, but you’re also a pain in the ass and you two could never get along long enough to stitch together a real relationship.

But Robin sees through all of that shit. And she’s over it.

“Okay, maybe, but she listens when you talk about cars, and you buy the albums she likes even when she only mentions them once. Plus, you both love Dustin like he's an extra limb”—she’s right, you love that kid to death and Lord knows Steve looks after him like a son—“I think as much as you wretch and complain over her being too young and the connection not 'being there', it seems like you try an awful lot to get her to like you."

He immediately rejects the idea with a scoff.

"Of course I’d want a cool person to like me, old fuckin’ habits die hard. But that's all. She's cool and has a good sense of style and tells the best jokes and makes me feel smart and listens to me, and right now I'm feeling pretty crazy because maybe I do love her and I blew it because... because? Because I don’t know why—but she's probably sitting in some jerk's car listening to her favorite songs and watching him paint the sunset while speaking Spanish or whatever."

Robin closes her eyes, and Steve’s annoyed by the fact that he can hear her smirking. "Jesus Christ, I need to start charging you idiots for my time"—and she sighs—"Just... tell her all that cheese. And maybe throw in an apology or two. I don't know, do what you usually do when you pick up girls.”

He’s frustrated. And annoyed. But he throws a thanks at her anyway and stomps down the stairs and to his beamer. It’s not until he’s shrouded in the piercing light of the convenience store that he realizes three things: he’s still in his work uniform, it’s midnight, and he’s pretty sure he does love you. He grabs a bouquet, not even realizing it’s a bouquet of amaryllis and baby’s breath—he’d prefer roses, but ‘tis not the season, as the cashier told him.

Minutes later, he’s muttering under his breath like he’s mad, waiting for someone to answer your door. And thank God you do.

“Steve—?”

“Oh, shit, did I—were you—?”

“Oh, no, I was just…”—thinking about him—“nothin’. What’re you doing here?”

He pushes a furious hand through his hair, then tucks a chunk behind his ear, worrying at his bottom lip. More nervous than he’s been in his whole life. Then he flashes those soft brown eyes at you, and you’re toast. You step onto your doormat and shut the door behind you because he starts into his sentence like a blazing fire:

"I feel so stupid, and I’m sorry for saying you're like a little sister to me; I don’t believe that, and it couldn’t be further from the truth. You're not like a sister to me, you're like the only thing that matters and I feel like I wanna learn another language for you and take a cooking class for you and listen to your music with you. I just, I mean I’m trying to say you make me want to be a better person, and I feel like I’m already a better person whenever I’m around you. I... what I’m saying—and I promise I’m getting to it—is that I’m sorry for being so stupid and not seeing it before, but I think you're beautiful and I'd be honored if you'd forgive me and maybe consider letting me take you out sometime. Like on a date."

He’s breathing heavily, looking and feeling manic, and your eyes are wide as you slowly process his confession. It goes down like sweet wine, floral down your throat and settling in your tummy like candy. But still: what the fuck? Is he insane? Are you insane?

His hair is flopped to one side, and his work vest is snug around his shoulders. You step forward slowly, and the creases in his forehead seem to go smooth. And you point to the bouquet.

“For me?”

Steve glances down. "Oh, yeah, got em for you. Sorry they're not roses, it's not—"

"I love them, thank you."

He nods. And you smile. And despite how beautiful the soft pink and white flowers are, you’re not particularly focused on their safety when you hook your arms beneath his and rope him into a hug. It’s clearly just what he needed when he goes pliant and heavy against your chest, smiling into your neck as his hands wrap over your shoulders.

"I think we might both be stupid,” you whisper.

He chuckles. "Yup. Just a couple of stupids. Geez, what kinda pair are we?" You both pull away. Only to look at each other squarely. To see a smile creep and creep across the other’s face. And he cocks a brow and says, "By the way, worst twenty-four hours of my life—"

And that’s saying something after the last three years.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Steve, I was just so—"

"I know."

"So confused and disappointed, it was—"

"Torture, yeah, don't even think about doing that ever again,” he teases, pinching your side and scrunching his nose when you pinch him back.

"Yeah. Well, never tell me I’m like a little sister to you ever again.”

Gross.

"I don't plan on it"

With the slow bat of your lashes, and the tender curve of your lips, he can’t not think about kissing you. Not in this light. Not under the meddling moon, and not holding your waist like cupping pools of honey.

Then you look away. For all the shit you talk, he manages to make you far more shy than he ever anticipates. And it gives him butterflies to see you duck away.

"You know, I think you're pretty beautiful yourself, Harrington.”

Oh, he’s blushing now. The blood gushes hot to his face, he could sweat buckets right here and now. You can probably hear his heartbeat. Jesus Christ, what’ve you done to him? You can tell he’s nervous when he chuckles softly. "Does this mean I can start giving you rides again?"

You pretend to weigh your options. As if there would ever be a better alternative. "Only if you let me play my music sometimes.”

"Absolutely. I never liked the radio much anyway."

You let go of him only to cradle your bouquet in both hands, admiring the petals while Steve puts his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I'll see you later," he says. Grinning ear to ear, mind you.

"Yeah,” you coo, “I’ll see you."

With one hand on his shoulder, you plant a kiss on his willing cheek and let him go. But before he can make it to his car you holler, “Wait!” and he jogs back over to you.

"Did I forget somethin’?"

“Yeah,” you poke, "you forgot about our date."

He tilts his head a little, brows furrowed. "Our... our date? What do you mean our… Ohhhh”—he nods in understanding, suddenly hit with a wave of excitement and embarrassment—"Does tomorrow work? We could grab lunch or dinner or something and maybe stop by the arcade or—oh, the fair's in town, that could be kinda fun, unless you don't want to, I mean—"

"Steve?" you hum.

“Mhm?”

"I'd love to."

And suddenly his ego is miles through the roof; he's nodding and grinning and it’s like he can’t wait to wake up tomorrow just to see you again.

"Me too. Okay. Yeah! I'll see you then."

"Bye, Stevie.” You give him a small wave, and the shroud of plastic around the bouquet crinkles like the corners of his eyes at the idea of tomorrow.

masterlist

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #unrequited crush #stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #fluff #steve harrington #st4 #stranger things 4 #x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #angst #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers

2K notes · View notes

lvlyghost · 3 months

Text

pairings: simon riley x f!reader

summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.

wc: 1.1k

tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.

a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!

By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.

Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.

"Where's the girl?"

The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.

"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.

"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.

Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.

"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"

Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

"No. Guess she'll show up."

She has to.

Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.

Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.

Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.

It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.

Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.

So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.

Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.

You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.

The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.

After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.

With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.

You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.

"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.

"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."

And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.

Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."

"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"

Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.

"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."

"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.

"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.

"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."

"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"

"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

591 notes · View notes

lexabitxh · 2 months

Text

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #deancas #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #fanfic #yn #imagine #the winchesters #gif

333 notes · View notes

demonvibez · 8 months

Text

[Yandere] Mammon ♡

Rating: Mature [MDNI] Tags: dark content, possessiveness, fighting, stalking, implied murder, smut, gn body parts, penetration mentions, cock warming, semi public sex, changed canon events Word Count: 1.4k+ A/N: I love yans and I love Mams soooo...here we are lol. Happy Birthday to my favorite greedy demon ♡ Mammoney!

♡ Yandere Mammon, who has been by your side since the very first day you dropped into the Devildom.

-> He didn't think much of you at first - a mere hassle dropped onto his plate by his Prideful elder brother. But it doesn't take long for the Avatar of Greed to become completely obsessed with you.

-> He actually made Lucifer give him your file ahead of time, wanting to size up how much trouble you'd be and see what kinda wealth you'd be bringing him. When his golden eyes landed on your picture though, a new sense of greed wrapped itself around his heart, and he knew he just had to have you.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who is a hell of a lot smarter than his brothers give him credit for.

-> He's the one that actually planted the seed in Leviathan's mind that you should make a pact with Mammon in the first place. Paying his debt to the Third Born was worth having the chance to cement himself as your first pact mate - which he always uses to his advantage.

-> Any situation you find yourself in, Mammon manipulates his way to get access to you - whether it's his usual antics (like him 'whining' about being your first man), or even some of his more greedy tricks like bribery, you'll always find him right next to you. There are even times he uses the pact to summon himself to you, and convinces you that it was subconsciously your idea because you always need him by your side - 'Ya know I was tasked to protect ya after all, treasure.'

-> On the rare occasion that Mammon can't be with you at the moment, he sends his murder of crows to look after you - especially even when you're with one of his brothers. His feathered familiars keep an eye on you no matter the realm, and they diligently report back to their Master with any findings.

♡ Yandere Mammon, whose greed for you knows no bounds.

-> Whenever you're with one of his brothers, he finds a way to squeeze himself in. He gives them a look of warning - he wouldn't necessarily kill one of his brothers, but they might find themselves befalling serious misfortune if they don't back off from you.

-> He doesn't afford that same luxury to strangers, though. Sure, he may start off with the warning of bad luck, each demon that gets too close to you suddenly finding themselves penniless. But if they still don't get the hint between that and Mammon's death glare, then he'll be sure to follow them home and have a nice chat with them later - just be sure to kiss his bruised and bloody knuckles when he comes home and lies about it.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who wants nothing more than to hoard you to himself like a rare Devildom treasure - because that's what you are to him.

-> He absolutely took Beelzebub's custard on purpose, knowing your room would get demolished in the process. Before Lucifer could make you move into Beel's room however, Mammon spots Satan and ropes him into the scene, knowing he would get triggered by the First Born and escalate the situation worse. Fists get thrown between Pride and Wrath, and Mammon uses the opportunity to steal you away to his room.

-> You pretty much live in his room now - he's replaced your destroyed belongings and given you space in his own closet. You don't notice a few of your things still going missing occasionally - and you definitely don't notice the secret door in the back of his closet, leading to the shrine he's made of you, your missing items adorning the altar.

-> Something else you fail to notice, is how he prolongs the reconstruction of your bedroom. It first started with him just tearing down the current work being done to rebuild it - that is, until he got the idea that if he started picking off the construction demons one by one, it'd surely slow down production. It was quite messy work at first, until he remembered his little brother was the Avatar of Gluttony who has never left a scrap of food behind.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who despite wanting you all for himself, still loves to show you off as 'His' to any and everyone.

-> He may be the Avatar of Greed, but he absolutely loves making people jealous - he wants them to covet what he owns, especially when it comes to you. He buys you revealing outfits that cost a pretty Grimm, just to dress you up and parade you around the city on his arm.

-> His public displays of affection for you are constant - there's not a single being in the Devildom that hasn't seen the way his hands grab your body, the way he presses his lips to your neck. And when he gives you gifts, he makes sure to do it in front of other people, so they can see the way you look at him and kiss him on the lips so lovingly.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who toys with how much luck you have in order to keep himself as close to you as possible.

-> Some days Mammon feels you aren't giving him enough attention, and you suddenly find yourself having the worst luck - bad grades, failed cooking, accidental injuries. And there Mammon is, right there by your side with open arms, ready to care for you like the perfect boyfriend that he is.

-> Other days, Mammon spoils the hell outta you - with all that good luck on your side, you suddenly find that you won a ton of Grimm from some Devilgram contest you don't remember entering, and he's convincing you to go away to the beach for a week, just the two of you.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who infects those around him with greed in order to move along his own hidden agenda.

-> He talks his way into going to your meeting with Lord Diavolo, despite Lucifer also being there. All it took was a little greed and a few well placed words to convince them to give you a permanent citizenship in the Devildom, despite all of their earlier reservations. The elder demons later side eye Mammon, but he just throws his hands up, insisting he couldn't possibly be that powerful and doing his best to hide his smugness.

-> He uses this ability on his brothers as well - usually either on Satan, Asmodeus or Belphegor. Whenever he isn't getting his way, he infects one (or multiple) of them with his greed, standing back with an arm around your shoulder and his signature smirk on his face as he hears his brothers argue with Lucifer for him - his brothers already love you, so they don't think too much about it.

♡ Yandere Mammon, whose obsession with you fills him with an inherent need to mark you as his.

-> He needs everyone to see that you belong to him. It starts off innocently, with him giving you gifts of jewelry and insisting you wear them. Some of the jewelry very obviously brandish his sigil and symbols, but little did you know, the other pieces have secret inscriptions to let other demons know that you're his.

-> And of course he put his pact mark somewhere obvious, in a spot you couldn't hide it. 'Why would ya wanna hide it, anyways?!'

-> He also loves to bite - why wouldn't ya want his adorable fang marks on the side of your neck? He'll take any chance he can get to add another permanent little mark of his on you - without hurting you too much, of course.

♡ Yandere Mammon, whose greed seeps into every fiber of his being as he passionately fucks you into his mattress.

-> You don't miss the way he chants 'Mine' over and over like a prayer as he roughly thrusts into you - the way his rings dig into your flesh as he holds you too tightly through your shared orgasms, silently vowing to never let you go.

-> He pours greed into your pact in order to hear you beg for him - your own avarice causing you to cock warm him even after you've both fallen asleep, so full of his sin you can't stand the thought of separating.

-> Sometimes he's so needy for you that he can't wait until the two of you get home - he'll pull you into a storage closet or an empty classroom and start having his way with you - he doesn't even care if someone hears the two of you, in fact he almost wishes they would. Knowing he's the only one that can have you this way makes him want to pound you against the wall that much harder.

♡ Yandere Mammon, who will stop at nothing to keep you forever.

"Ya don't know just how much ya mean to me, treasure. I'm never lettin' ya go."

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

852 notes · View notes

matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

Text

I Hate Mondays

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: This interlude was probably WAAAAAY overdue- but here it is! I was thinking of how to continue though eventually decided to let Vox kind of just deal with the whiplash of his chill downtime with you and his chaotic somewhat unhealthy workplace. I didn't want to really include conflict, just him again dealing with things he has come to realize but not entirely accept- it's Vox, when will he actually genuinely accept that he'd fallen fast and fallen hard for someone because they treated him like a decent human being? Either way, it's mostly fluffy stuff for now before I add your interlude idea requests into the story soon :)

A/N: I've also seen people sometimes write Vox with a little bit of an impostor syndrome, so a lot of his doubts and anxieties will kind of be reflected in this interlude. It'll all be okay though I promise! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!

There's a saying that everyone hates Mondays.

Manic mondays, monday blues, monday's monster, etc.

And for Vox, after the weekend he's had with you?

That saying couldn't have been more true.

From a relaxed and chill two days, back into an insanely stressful and borderline chaotic work environment.

And as he stared at the stack of documents in front of him-

He didn't even want to begin.

The overlord would've repeatedly hit his head against the table if it didn't risk cracking his screen.

The last thing he needed was to worry you because of something stupid.

"VOX! I NEED YOUR HELP WITH THIS!"

"VOX! I NEED YOU TO DO THAT!"

"VOX! GIVE ME THIS THING!"

"VOX!"

Left, right and center-

His colleagues were definitely not short of any demands.

And it was slowly driving him insane from frustration.

They could be asking quite literally anybody else, but no.

They just had to bother him.

And the overlord was just in no mood to deal with the chaos right now.

With his packed schedule full of broadcasts and meetings-

Vox's patience was really running thin.

It got to the point where simply chose to ignore the other Vees after a while.

Not responding to their calls or texts as he holed himself up in his monitor room.

Was his daily life really this crazy?

It's such a jarring change from how he felt like during that weekend with you-

So much so that he was really having trouble believing it.

Still, he threw himself into work.

As the king of technology in pentagram city often would-

And he completely lost track of time.

So after a while just staring and tabulating some analytics on the many screens in front of him-

The last thing he expected to see was a notification from your chat to pop up.

"Hey, how you feeling? You seemed kinda off on your broadcast earlier."

Vox wasn't thinking of replying to you, he only noticed what he'd done after a reply was sent anyway.

"Color me surprised, I didn't think anyone would notice!"

He really had to stop reacting to you first and just think about it.

Still, his fingers were already flying across the keyboard before he could stop them.

"Vox, it's me. Of course I would notice. Did something happen?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary doll, just getting used to the grind again."

He cringed slightly reading that message over, did he really just send that to you?

You could be laughing at his poor attempt of using new slang for all he knew.

"That is how you use that word right?"

"Yeah it is lol. Can you drop by the hotel later when you're free? I know you're busy so it's okay whenever."

That made his heart skip a beat, something the overlord slightly berated himself for.

Sure, he'd come to the realization that he did in fact love you to some degree.

But it's not without clear hesitation.

He could very well be mistaken anyway.

You were just... friendly like that.

Yeah. Friendly.

"Why'd you ask? Miss me already dollface?"

"Don't be an idiot. I just wanna hang out with you."

Vox found himself needing to read your message over a few times after you sent that.

He still couldn't quite understand why you liked spending so much time with him.

Time was valuable and time was money.

At least in the literal sense when it came to his occupation.

And still you just wanted to spend yours with him.

Him.

No wonder Alastor made a jab at you having a bad taste in companions.

He was... not really the best in hindsight.

Not that he'd ever admit that fact, his pride wouldn't allow it.

But in regards to you?

You definitely deserved better than what you got.

"Besides, you need to take breaks from your work every now and then. Vel's been texting me nonstop that you already look like shit."

The overlord couldn't help but chuckle from the irony of that statement.

Velvette, though not as much as a certain moth, still contributed to his stressful day.

But it was still nowhere near as bad.

Vox dreaded having to go out and deal with the irate pimp again.

Another tantrum, maybe a screaming fest even?

His mood was souring even more just thinking about it.

"Actually, did you eat anything at all today? Or do you just skip your meals you workaholic TV demon?"

"That's pretty rude dollface."

"Am I wrong though? Anyway, answer the question Samsung."

Now how should he answer this?

It took one glance at his internal clock to confirm he'd actually skipped both breakfast and lunch.

Well, he didn't think you'd count just drinking coffee a good breakfast.

Would you really get upset enough to storm Vee tower if he replied honestly?

Actually you would- Vox wouldn't put it against your chaotic nature-

Hm... maybe he could lie to you just this once.

"I'm fine doll, seriously. Don't worry about it."

The overlord tiredly sighed.

He had another broadcast in a few minutes, whether or not he felt up to it.

It didn't help that there was this... heavy feeling in his gut that wasn't there earlier.

Was he feeling guilty...?

For lying to you?

And it wasn't even really a lie, just- an omission of some details.

A hand flew up to cover his screen, kind of like a facepalm.

You really have changed him, and he didn't catch it until too late.

"Vox, I worry about you regardless. When you throw your job into it as well, then all the more I'm concerned that you're not taking good care of yourself. I know what it's like to get lost in responsibilities, just... be more mindful of yourself okay?"

For someone who wasn't supposed to care, wasn't supposed to get close to anyone unless it had advantages-

The overlord couldn't help but feel genuinely touched reading your message.

Sure, you'd sent similar things before and even told him outright at times-

But it always had the same effect.

You cared about him, probably to the extent he unknowingly did for you.

Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself just a little bit happier because of it.

Most of the world he'd built up around himself was fake anyway, smiles and all.

So this little shot of genuine care...

Really struck him.

Though just as that train of thought went and left the station-

Vox just as quickly put a stop to it.

That fuzzy feeling in his chest had bloomed once again and he wanted none of it.

Well, more like he couldn't bring himself to continue entertaining it.

It was probably fine when the both of you were simply oblivious.

But now he felt like he needed to make a conscious effort to stop falling for you more.

Lest he risk wrecking everything just because he'd guessed wrong.

What would you see in a guy like him anyway?

"I will, thanks dollface. Anyway, I have a broadcast in a few minutes so I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."

"It's fine go and do what you need to do, just drop by any time you need to okay? I'll be here."

Your flatscreen companion couldn't help but smile from your words.

Again, the way you treated him was just so... different from everything he was used to.

His tech empire, his company, his power and status-

It didn't matter to you.

Not at all when you were alive, and it clearly even carried over now that you were here.

How you could be so nonchalant about everything, Vox wouldn't ever understand.

Nor would he probably be able to comprehend.

But that wasn't really much of an issue compared to other things he felt towards you.

"I will. Thanks doll."

With that reply, the overlord went and got ready for his final broadcast of the day.

And it went as one would've expected.

Totally sideways off the rails and into a burning trash heap.

Fucking Mondays.

The broadcast itself would seem fine to the viewers, but behind the cameras?

It was practically a shitfest cranked up to eleven.

The cameras were rolling as usual and Vox was playing up his typical telecaster charm-

When Valentino decided to show up and throw a hissy fit then and there.

Sure, the viewers saw none of the chaos or madness-

But you knew something was up with your TV headed companion when his smile looked a little bit too strained on air.

It's not something everyone else would notice, but you would.

You always did.

And you were proven right when you heard some knocking on glass.

Ah.

There he was.

Vox was somehow sitting on one of the many ledges and railings that encompassed the hotel, it just so happens that this one was close to your room.

Didn't his broadcast just air?

You quickly shook off the surprise and confusion to open the window.

"Vox? What are you-"

"It's been a long day, wasn't in the mood to see the others. Just you."

"Then get in here, wanna talk about it?"

When your companion shook his head, that's when you knew his day was probably upside down when it came to anything going right.

Not to mention that for once, he actually dropped by and looked quite as bad as he felt.

His bow tie was undone, his shirt was untucked and messy-

Plus his coat and striped vest were nowhere to be seen.

Probably left at the tower you'd guess.

"Dude, you look like shit."

Vox rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, moving to sit down on the floor while leaning back against the edge of your bed.

You would've told him to just sit on the mattress itself- but he probably wanted to lean on something so you just joined him.

"I've been told, almost nothing went right today."

"Guess that's why they call it a manic Monday huh?"

You both shared an odd look before laughing.

Of course it would be the stupid joke to lighten the mood.

But that was always how you both broke the ice, and if it works- it works.

"Perhaps, but I don't think it was ever this tiring before."

You simply shrugged, leaning your head on his shoulder and staring out in front of you.

Vox subconsciously moved an arm around you when he did.

He was way too tired to really care or stop himself though.

"Maybe it never was, or maybe you just got used to it. Vel did tell me that you never really took a break before you met me."

"Seriously? What else does she spill about me then?"

"Nothing too important, just that you're a whole lot different from how you were two years ago."

When your companion let out a thoughtful hum, that's when you knew he agreed.

Funnily enough, Vox wouldn't say much of anything when he was actually giving something a lot of thought.

So the fact he wasn't really talking as much as usual also spoke volumes to you about his state of mind.

Because as annoying as his comments and charming jokes could be sometimes-

It was fundamentally what made Vox well- Vox.

Which made him just shooting short replies and sentences a little bit more concerning.

"Hey, can I give you a hug?"

"What? Why would you need to ask that? You've already hugged me before."

"I know, but this time it genuinely looks like you really need a hug. This is different from the ones when we just joke around."

You almost wanted to smack your overlord companion when he just gave you a confused look.

Granted, this was hell so what the both of you shared was no short of peculiar.

But the point still stands-

Had no one ever given this idiot an actual hug before?

"Look, just tell me if something feels wrong okay?"

Vox didn't really know how to respond to any of your words.

What made your hugs from before so different from now?

Though when he'd suddenly found you straddling his lap, the overlord bit back a surprised noise.

What the fuck were you doing?!

He found himself tensing a little when you laid your head on his chest, your arms encircling behind him as well.

Oh what the hell was this-

"Just relax you weirdo, I don't bite."

You calmly laid there and listened to his pulse, it was a little faster than you'd hoped for but didn't mind.

The gentle hum of his circuits reminded you of a working desktop computer, which you found a little silly considering he was supposed to have a TV for a head.

Again with the bionic biology- you were getting more than curious-

Eventually though, Vox did calm down enough to actually live in the moment.

The smell of your shampoo, how warm and soft you were-

His arms moved of their own accord and reciprocated your hug.

His posture slackened and the overlord found himself properly relaxing with you.

It was just so... calm right now.

And he was so so tired.

What he would give to just be like this with you every day.

The next time you looked up to check on Vox, you saw his screen dimmed and a screensaver of his company logo just bouncing around the edges of his face.

Ah, so that's where he got it from.

You wondered what it was ever since he slapped it onto your laptop-

You couldn't help but smile when the reality finally hit that the tech overlord had fallen asleep during your cuddle session.

Sure, he was probably really tired-

But he trusted you enough to just let go and relax.

That made your heart swell with joy.

He didn't need to say anything about his day for you to know he needed comfort.

After all, he could tell you about it when he was ready to.

You did wonder why emotional comfort was such an odd concept to Vox-

But it was something you were more than willing to teach him.

Besides, you both had eternity down here in hell.

So you had all the time to spend giving your flatscreen companion the care he deserved.

Your pleasant thought bubble popped when you heard a weird noise from the overlord though.

When it happened again, you didn't take more than a second to connect the dots.

Especially given how late it was into the evening.

Did this idiot even eat anything today?!

No wonder he dodged your question earlier!

You'd let him sleep a little longer but you would wake him for dinner.

Seems like you were totally right to worry about this habits.

Stupid workaholic TV.

He was lucky you liked him.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #get off my screen series #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

305 notes · View notes

atydblack · 1 month

Text

trouvaille

regulus black x slytherin!reader

masterlist

this is part one of an ongoing series! think there will be 3 parts in total <3 no cws as this is gonna be pure angst

Being James Potter's younger sister inquired a lot to live up to. James was the perfect Gryffindor student who succeeded in all his classes, exuded confidence with his every word, had soulmates for friends and an even better girlfriend.

You, however, were almost the opposite.

You were sorted into Slytherin in your first year and although they tried their best to hide it, you could see the disappointment in James and his friends eyes as you walked over to the Slytherin table. Your parents were still accepting but there was some clear favouritism in the family, no doubt. You did well in classes however didn't ever see yourself becoming a prefect like James or being top of any classes.

You sat in potions next to your best friend, Lara. Her straight blonde hair and bright blue eyes opposed my black curly hair and dark brown eyes. You had always been jealous of her, she was the type to catch everyone's eye when she walked into a room while you just trudged in behind her.

"Do you have idea what this question means?" Lara asks you, huffing slightly as she rested her chin in her hand.

"You really think I'd have the answer if you didn't?" You joked. You glanced up at Slughorn who had started dozing off behind his desk and you smirked. "Look."

Lara mirrored your smirk and you both dropped your quills on the desk to turn around and start talking with your friends instead.

"I'm bored out of my mind." Lara groaned to your other friend Freya sat behind you.

"Slughorn says if we don't get these all finished, he's gonna give us all detention until we get them done." Freya rolled her eyes, but you could clearly see that she'd almost finished.

"Have you got the number to 42?" You asked her with wide eyes, trying to sway her in to letting you copy her. "And 43, 44, 45... and the rest?"

"Merlin your voices are retched." A voice came from a couple desks to your right, none other than Enoch Wilkes. He was a tall boy with sleeked back greasy hair and a superiority complex due to his family heritage.

"What's your problem, Wilkes?" Lara shot at him.

"I'm trying to actually do my work but all I can hear is Potter's squeaky voice in my ear." Wilkes replied with a grunt.

"She's just as unbearable as Saint Potter except dumber." Icarus Nott joined in from next to him.

"What did you just say?" You spat, standing to your feet and making your way over to them with your wand gripped tightly in your palm, willing to do anything to stand up for your older brother. There was a third boy sat with them, Regulus Black.

Regulus had always been quiet, however he never failed to be part of the horrid Slytherins who gave your house a bad name and thought they were elite causing them to look down on everyone else. He had only made a few sly comments in past years, but everyone knew his thoughts on muggle blood.

You were also a pureblood, but would never allow yourself to feel any prejudice towards anyone else.

You couldn't deny that Regulus was attractive. He looked a lot like Sirius... however his facial features were softer. His dark black hair fell onto his forehead effortlessly and his green eyes complimented his pale skin.

"You heard me." Nott mocked you, not moving from his seat. You had gained a small audience as everyone's head turned towards you.

"What an embarrassment having a Gryffindor blood traitor for a brother." Wilkes joked, not backing down. "At least Black had the right idea and cut his off, what's stopping you from doing the same?"

"Y/N, sit down." Freya begged from across the classroom, not wanting to get either of you in trouble. "He's not worth it."

"You have no idea what you're talking about." You smirked, holding up your wand and pointing it right at him.

You were closest to Sirius out of all your brothers friends. He had moved in with your family two years ago after he left his family and you'd always been there for him, especially during everything that happened with his brother Regulus. Regulus was clearly a lost soul, strung along on the same ideologies as his parents however he would send letters to Sirius every once and a while but continued to act like he didn't exist at school.

"Leave it, Wilkes." Regulus muttered. Funny this is the first time he had ever attempted to stick up for you and it was only to save his own back.

"What's she talking about, Black?" Nott glanced at him, but Regulus' eyes were set on yours as you stared each other down. You knew you would never actually say anything to expose Regulus as doing so would only hurt Sirius too, but you could sense how scared he was that you'd open your mouth.

"She's a freak." Wilkes chuckled. "Just like her brother."

This sent you over the edge as everything turned red. You dropped your wand to the floor and quickly punched Wilkes square in the nose.

"Olive!" Lara shouted from across the classroom.

You felt a pair of strong arms pulling you back as you attempted to go in for another hit.

"What on earth is going on?!" Slughorn announced and you all froze. You turned around to see it was in fact Regulus' arms that were holding you back and a brush grew on your cheeks. "Black, Potter - sit down at once!"

You both complied, with a guilty expression you made your way back over to your desk and your friends gave you an apologetic look.

"I expect to see you both after class." Slughorn continued.

"But sir-!" Nott shouted, attempting to stick up for Regulus.

"I don't want to hear it." Slughorn quickly cut him off earning a scoff from the boy.

The lesson felt like it took hours to end but you felt slightly ill in your stomach when everyone else was packing up to leave but you and Regulus sat firmly in your seats.

"We'll be in the great hall; I'll save you a seat." Lara smiled at you before her and Freya took off out the classroom and to dinner.

"Both of you have detention with Filch every night after dinner starting tomorrow." Slughorn mumbled, uninterested. You scoffed as you were way too used to detention with Filch now.

When you were dismissed, you quickly stood to your feet and attempted to leave ahead off Regulus to avoid any awkwardness. You began walking down the corridor, ready to rant to James about what had occured.

"Potter!" Regulus called from behind you. You stopped in your tracks and turned on your feet with a confused expression on your face. He approached you slowly and timidly before speaking. "I-uh. I wanted to thank you for not saying anything about Sirius and I."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for Sirius." You mutter before turning back around and leaving him there dumbfounded.

You reach the great hall and make a B line for your brother and his friends. James smirked at you as you approach him with a sour expression on your face before sitting in between him and Sirius, your green robes standing out in the sea of red.

"What's up with you, Y/N?" Sirius smirked before patting me on the top of your head.

"I've got detention again this week." You huff, crossing your arms and leaning them on the table.

"How do you manage to get yourself into so much trouble?" Lily quizzed you, a humorous look on her face that mirrored the rest of the group.

"She takes after me, that's why." James joked but you only rolled your eyes in response.

"Yeah, apart from the brains." You sigh, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. You glanced over at the Slytherin table and quickly caught eyes with Regulus, who must have been staring at you. You kept eye contact for a short moment before he turned his head and acted like it never happened. You furrow your eyebrows and listed your head once again. "At least I'm the better-looking sibling." You continue, causing everyone to laugh.

"Keep dreaming, kiddo." James rolled his eyes.

"Go on then, what did you do this time?" Remus questions you.

"I punched Enoch Wilkes in the nose during potions." You say smugly causing everyone to laugh once again.

"I would advise you that violence isn't the answer, however we can make some exceptions for people like that." Remus smirked.

"Tell me about it, they're horrid." You scoff before stealing some food from James plate. "No offence obviously, Sirius."

"Go ahead," Sirius chuckled. "I had to endure it for most of my life."

#regulus black angst #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black fluff #regulus angst #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader

305 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 3 months

Text

Covert Relations in the Bathroom

Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, co-workers, secret relationship, rough sex, banter, hiding, clit stimulation, keeping quiet, hickies, creampie, name calling, degredation, rivals who fuck, cock riding, not fully naked, streangth kink

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: This is just an excuse to write dirty, filthy, passionate, quick almost hate sex with Wriothesley.

Wriothesley's day was not going well. With every new report he had to read he got more and more pissed off, just itching to out there and give the people causing trouble a piece of his mind. Alas, he couldn't not today. He'd have to find a new way to deal with this stress. Well not new anymore but different the usual.

Apparently you had the same idea, even going the extra step to follow him. "You know this is the men's bathroom right?"

"You know you just fingered me in your office right?" You crossed your hands over your chest, cheeks still flustered from it. Funny how he saw it so fitting to mess with you in the work place, but was also able to keep a fully professional air around him when you were in the company of others. "Wrio, you didn't let me finish."

"So what? You want me to something about that? You're the one who was getting too loud." Wriothesley crossed his arms too and leaned into your personal space, "Don't offer if you can't keep quiet."

He was trying to get on your nerves. Well you could play this game too. "I'm not the one who behaves like a horny dog who needs to fuck everything in his sight." His smile wavered for a split second. He kept walking towards you until he backed you up against one of the stall doors. Wriothesley towered over you in both height and frame. The size difference made for a fun fuck but at times like these it was annoying.

"Are you my bitch then? Cause you sure seem to be happy to let me fuck you." This fucking asshole! You should have slapped him honestly. Oh what would be the point, he'd probably get hornier from that.

He did a good job hiding his bulge but this up close you didn't have to see it, you could feel it.

"Then fuck me." You challenged and stood on your tiptoes to meet his rough lips. Wriothesley growled into into your kiss, his mouth pushing back right away. His hand found it's target under your skirt, "Finish what you started, or I'll finish it for you and make you watch." And you meant that threat too, you've done it before, rode a big dildo while Wriothesley was handcuffed and muzzled, his cock leaking with cum.

"You wouldn't dare." He bit your lip harshly, a warning.

"I don't think you want to find out." You unzipped his pants and unbuckled his belt, tracing your finger around the wet spot of the bulging head. "There's not a lot of time Wrio."

"We have as much time as I say we have." But he didn't want to wait anymore either. His cock wouldn't be happy with him if he denied it any longer. You pushed the band of his underwear down until his cock sprang free, throbbing and veiny and ready to go. "Up you go." Wriothesley's hands lifted you up by your thighs, your legs spread to make room for his wide hips, "And down."

Your pussy took his cock with no resistance at all, already worked up and wet from his fingers earlier.

"Taking me so well. That's my good bitch." Wriothesley grinned at you as he started moving at an unforgiving pace. "You think you're in control here? Hm? The only reason you're still here, annoying me and butting heads with me every day, is because your cunt is too good to let go."

You cupped his cheek a bit too harshly, almost like you wanted to add to the scar beneath his eye. "So you admit you need me." It may have been in a crude way but he wanted you by his side. Everyone could see Wriothesley treated you differently, but they had the reasons all mixed up.

For them the two of you were just rivals who were forced to work together and got on each other's nerves. That was certainly part of your dynamic. The other part was the one where you got on each other nerves so much you fucked each other out of your mind. You met your own eyes in the mirror, seeing your disheveled look, your puffy lips, your hands in his hair, your legs shaking with each deep thrust of his hips against yours. It made you feel dirty, but oh so good.

Wriothesley's smirk was the only thing that soured the experience for you. He could come on the spot just from knowing how horny he made you feel. Because you tried to act like he wasn't doing it for you, like you didn't crave his cock every time your pussy was horny and empty. He knew you felt good when he handled you like this, pressed you against himself, trapped you, fucked you and used your tight little hole as a cocksleeve.

You tightened your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his back, making him groan, "Too much for you?"

"You? You thing too little of me." He pressed his lips to your neck, biting and grunting while the thumping and slapping got faster and faster, your moans edging him closer and closer. "And maybe too much. Why don't you say my name?"

And stroke his ego? You'd rather stroke his cock. Or tighten around it in this case. He interpreted that very differently then you hoped. His thick cock pulsed inside your walls, the angle perfect to make your toes curl. Good thing he couldn't see it.

"Say my name, come on you little slut. Or I stop again." Wriothesley's threat was empty, he was close as well he wouldn't stop now.

"The only slut I see here is you. So desperate to get your cock wet that you break your own protocols. You're shameless." You laughed and tilted his head, "Come for me. Come in cunt. Now Wriothesley." You were the one in control, he was fucking you, you were on could nine, but you were the one making him come, spill his seed inside you.

"You fucking bitch. You want cum? I'll give you so much you end up pregnant!" His cock stayed buried inside you while you clenched around it. "Milking me just like a bitch in heat. Just like I said, my good bitch. Oh... mhm... every drop, take every fucking drop." Your legs fell limp around him and he opened the stall, walking in and sitting on the toilet. "Gonna lift you up now."

"Okay." You mumbled, catching your breath against his neck. You were both full and empty. Wriothesley pressed the toilet paper over your dripping pussy, carefully cleaning up the mess you made. He was a bit softer when it came to aftercare.

But still an asshole as he pressed his hand over your twitching clit, eliciting more low moans from you. Whatever. You'd get back at him for this. Eventually. Later tonight.

854 notes · View notes

kaiser-author-san-iii · 1 year

Text

Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader

A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.

First>> Next>>

Masterlist>>

Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome

Silence.

What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?

They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.

The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.

"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"

Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.

But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)

They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.

For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.

"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"

Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.

Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."

That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!

"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"

"Everyone?"

At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.

"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.

He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.

While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.

Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.

"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.

The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.

The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.

"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"

Eh?

-x-

It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.

Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.

Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.

But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...

Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.

If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.

While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.

During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.

The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.

"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.

Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.

[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.

They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.

Ehe.

Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.

The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.

Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."

And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.

'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33

#genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #Harbingers x reader #Fatui harbingers #genshin cult au #sagau #Dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Childe x reader #Capitano x reader #Coloumbina x reader #Sandrone x reader #Pierro x reader #female reader #Signora x reader

1K notes · View notes

owliellder · 7 months

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of a Fight, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Ahh thank you for 1,000 followers!! I don't even know how that happened!! Anyways, I think it's a little anticlimactic? I just feel like since I am definitely not the kind to raise my voice, a shy reader wouldn't either. Besides, disappointment hurts more than anger, right?

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 4:

Leon really did like you, honest. You were such a sweet girl, so innocent and clueless. Maybe it’s because he never gave his one night stands the time of day, or maybe it was just the sheer amount of time he had to spend with you to get this close, but now he knew he was a pretty terrible person for taking that bet

In the beginning he didn’t feel the slightest twinge of guilt due to the words the frat spewed at him. He knew all the right questions to ask, all the right things to say, the sweetness of it all had you under a spell. It was also such a menial thing to get, a single pair of panties… You probably wouldn’t even know it was missing!

But as time went on, it got harder and harder for Leon to stomach just what he was doing. You’d opened up so much to him about your home life, how stressed you were, how much pressure you were under. Doing this would absolutely ruin you so he did his best to convince himself that he was being the nice one by waiting to complete the bet until you had finished all your finals. All that time spent together had him second guessing, triple guessing, even quadruple guessing his decision to go through with this. The good grades were important to you, he didn’t want to draw your focus away from that.

It was a shame his friends couldn’t keep the damn thing to themselves even if their life depended on it. He’d explicitly told them that it’s done and there was nothing more to it, yet of course they just had to snicker and make snide little comments to each other the next day when they saw you in passing.

Leon wouldn’t admit out loud that you’d really grown on him over the months, so he could only brush his friends off whenever they’d tease him about getting angry whenever the topic arose. Chris was the worst out of all of them, being his best friend, it seemed like his mission was to dance on Leon’s nerves any chance he got.

“Delete that.” A scowl graced Leon’s features as he glared at Chris, who’d stepped back from the agitated man. Almost the entire frat had posed with the panties Leon stole from you, all of them making some form of exaggerated pose and face. What was only meant to be goofy on their part was making the man responsible furious.

“Relax, it’s just a picture. I thought you’d find it funny.” Chris chuckled, bringing his phone back in to look at it again himself. “You’re acting real sour for nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re all acting like a bunch of fucking idiots and I’m sick of it. Now delete that damn picture before I smash your phone with a hammer.” The nonchalant attitude from Chris was driving Leon up the wall. He already knew he’d fucked up big time, and with the way everyone was acting would only get him into bigger trouble.

“Shut up, man.” Chris laughed, like this was all some big joke. Everything was a joke to him. “Acting like you’re gonna explode or something.” This man was an actual dumbass, never taking a moment to actually think about what consequences having photo evidence with the entirety of the frat’s members posing with something stolen would have.

Leon scoffed, holding his hands up before letting them fall dramatically to slap against the tops of his thighs. “No fucking way..” One hand came back up to cover his mouth, breathing out sharply through his nose. It was a sad attempt to keep himself from pouncing on the other man, seeing as not barely five seconds later he tackled Chris, hands scrambling to rip the phone from his hand.

Chris was a few inches taller than Leon, a bit stronger too, so the scuffle didn’t last long. Some punches thrown here, a few kicks there, and Leon had the wind knocked out of him at some point, thrown to the side and left to struggle to get up off the floor while Chris decided to make his way to a different part of the house, muttering under his breath all the while.

“God dammit-” Leon wheezed, on his hands and knees, one hand against his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Sure he reacted purely on instinct, but Chris could stand to be knocked down a few pegs in his opinion. The guy is an ass.

After finally collecting himself, Leon slowly spun around to rest his back against the foot of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. He coughed a couple times and let his eyes fall closed, eyebrows furrowed as he silently seethed. Chris was most definitely going to send that picture around since he obviously thinks it’s the funniest thing to ever grace this planet. You were going to see the picture. That thought alone had his head falling forward in defeat, breathing out a weak sigh and a few more coughs.

If he had just followed his own shitty advice, he would’ve taken a second to think about it. Why didn’t he just tell you in the first place? Why didn’t he just go to the store and buy a random pair of panties? Why did he follow through on such a meaningless bet?

Now that Leon thinks about it, he was the dumbass in this scenario. A royal one.

He probably sat there for an hour with his eyes closed, mind racing a million miles a minute. Trying not to make another stupid decision, he decided the best course of action would be to tell you before you saw that picture. You should hear it from him and not a total stranger. It was the right thing to do. Right?

He let out a few more strangled coughs and wheezes as he stood up off the floor and threw his coat on, beginning the walk of shame to your building. It wouldn’t have taken that long, but the snow and sludge on the ground made it a bit more dangerous, he needed to tread carefully. In more ways than one.

The extended walk left him alone with his thoughts, seeing as he didn’t grab his own phone to bring with him. With every step his mind grew heavier, an involuntary grimace scrunching his face up as he mulled over what exactly he’d done. He was mentally beating himself up over how easy it would’ve been to avoid this situation if he’d just thought outside of himself for one singular minute.

What had he done?

Leon stomped the excess snow off his boots once inside of the dorm building, hands hidden in the pockets of his jackets as he meandered over to the stairs to get up to the second floor where your dorm was. He took his sweet time, practicing what he wanted to say under his breath as he stared down at his feet while walking up the steps.

Your dorm was down the hall around the corner, allowing him the few extra seconds it would take to get there to get his heart under control. You would be mad, rightfully so, but would you forgive him? Is it selfish to hope that you would?

He stood in front of your door for a minute longer, hand hovering just in front of it, trying to bring himself to knock. Licking his dry lips, he quickly hit the knuckle on his index finger against the door three times, his eyes downturned. As much as he wanted to be the bigger person, it scared him to no end. He’s never cared this much before, so why was he so worried about it now?

Leon’s eyes shot up at the sound of the door opening, immediately showing his confusion when it was Sky on the other side. They didn’t say a word, but they looked mad, or at least very irritated. “Hey, I really need to talk to-,” they cut him off by simply holding up the palm of their hand to him, taking in a deep breath. “We saw it.”

Those three words made his heart drop to his stomach, his eyes quickly darting to look through the opening in the door to see if he could see you. “Please, if you would just let me explain I can-”

“Don’t embarrass yourself. Just go.” Sky was just about to close the door before they quickly looked over their shoulder, shutting the door almost all the way. Leon could hear them whispering to you, and though he desperately wanted to listen in, he decided to take a step back from the door and wait patiently. It was the least he could do.

He looked side to side to make sure no one was walking through the hallways, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on such a sensitive situation. The door reopened, only this time it was you standing in the doorway. You looked so sad, so disappointed.

Leon hesitated before opening his mouth, yet you cut him off before he could even get a word in. “I trusted you,” you rasped quietly, a shaky sigh passing your lips, “I-.. I trusted you… and this is how you treat me..?” His shoulders slumped as he listened to you. He didn’t think he could feel any worse about this, but here you were, reminding him just how much of an ass he’s been.

“All that time we spent together.. all those kind, encouraging words you told me.. were all a lie?” You sniffled, arms slinking around yourself tightly. Sky was standing out of his view rubbing your back, knowing you wanted, no, needed to confront him yourself.

“No- I-..” Leon stuttered, trying to find the best way to explain everything. And no matter how many times he formulated it in his head, the explanation would never justify his actions. Instead he settled on something that would probably mean and do nothing for you. It was worth saying, though. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so sorry,” his voice fell to a whisper as he repeated himself, eyes remaining on yours. What else could he say?

Silence fell between you as you only stared back at him with glassy eyes, your every breath shaky as you held back sobs. Crying in front of him would only give him more fuel, was your thought process. In your mind, he couldn’t even be trusted with your trash.

By now, Sky had walked over and grabbed your suitcase, rolling it over next to you. You were leaving a day earlier than you said you would, Sky having offered to drive you back home since your hometown was only a couple hours away from where theirs was.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, instead taking the handle of your suitcase from your friend before silently walking out of the room, past Leon, and down around the corner. He only stood and watched you walk off with a deep frown, head turning back to look at Sky when he heard them lock the door behind themself.

“You’re only sorry that you got caught.” They grumbled as they walked past him, giving him a quick yet harsh glare. They soon disappeared around the same corner you had, leaving him all alone in the now quiet hallway.

You were the nicest, most considerate person he’s ever had the pleasure to know and he blew it. The worst part about it all was you didn’t even seem mad, just heartbroken. Disappointed in him.

You had put so much of your trust into him, even after he’d been so nasty towards you in the beginning, and what did he do with it? He basically spit on it, lit it on fire, and then flushed the remnants. He was only annoyed with you the first few times he had to help you study, the bickering the two of you shared easily becoming one of the things he liked about you.

Leon honestly liked you from the start, so determined to pass a class that you’d put up with what was basically harassment from him. When he told his frat buddies about you, they were quick to draw up that bet. Unfortunately, he’d known most of these guys since middle school, and you were just a girl he met on chance. His friends’ words blanketed his own morals, and because they saw you as a target, so did he, that subconscious need for peer approval leading him to make one of the worst decisions he’s ever made thus far.

If he was in your shoes, he’d raise hell, so your decision to leave was completely understandable. For some reason you’d let him off easy and he knew he didn’t deserve such light treatment.

All he could do now was hope you’d come back next semester. He’d be fine just getting to see you in passing since you most likely wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him anymore, your friends would certainly keep him at a distance away from you.

Would writing a message be okay? You need time before he approaches the topic with you. Should he leave you be? No, you deserve an apology, even if you don’t want it, nor accept it.

Someone brushed by Leon, breaking his train of thought. He was still standing in the hallway in front of your dorm room. He needed to go and try to make this right, or at the very least rip everyone at the frat a new one. He wasn’t sure, maybe it was because he was angry at them and himself, but leaving the frat sounded like a pretty good way to start righting his wrongs. Not before he made sure that the picture was wiped from everyone’s phone and the panties he stole were kept far away from everyone there.

Chris sent the picture to you, which means it was sent to a bunch of other people too. He’ll spend all winter break tracking down every last person it was sent to, tell professors what he’d done just so it didn’t spread any further. And if it meant he’d lose his scholarship, then so be it.

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't work, i tried though 😭)

686 notes · View notes