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roosterforme · 2 months

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Covering the Classics Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob is happy for his friends, but feeling like the fifth wheel every weekend has gotten old. Anna's main goal is to fly under the radar as she starts work at San Diego State University with her shiny, new graduate degree. She is convinced that the only company she needs is her own, but a specific flyer in the faculty lounge catches her interest.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob hated it when Natasha was deployed without him. He always ended up feeling like the fifth wheel now that Bradley was married and Jake was dating Jessica. Well, both of those were actually understatements. Bradley was devoted to his wife, and Jake was soppy now that Jessica moved in with him. And Bob's feelings on the matter were never more evident than on nights out at the Hard Deck.

Without fail, a girl or two or three would hit on one of the other guys, and they would deftly try to pawn said girl off on Bob only for the girl to look rather disappointed and kind of wander away. He just had that effect on women. He was a lot better with the written word than with the spoken, and something just didn't translate well for him when he was met face-to-face with an intriguing smile and an attractive body.

He groaned as he watched another woman head off in the direction of the bar as soon as he nervously stumbled his way through a sentence where he tried to introduce himself. How exactly was he supposed to compete with Jake Seresin anyway? Nobody who originally wanted him was going to settle for Bob.

"I got you more peanuts." Bob looked up to see Bradshaw's wife smiling at him and holding out a cup. Ever since he visited Chippy's bar, he didn't want to admit to Penny that hers weren't quite as good, but if someone went out of their way to bring him a cup full, he was going to eat them. And it was also nice of her to make sure he was included tonight while Mickey was babysitting his nephews.

"Thank you," he replied softly, and she patted his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to that girl?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bar. "She's really cute."

Bob shook his head as he looked down at his ginger ale. "I mean, yes, she was very pretty, but I wasn't really talking to her. She didn't want to talk to me, actually." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked up at her from his stool. "She wanted to talk to Jake."

She rolled her eyes, and Bob kept his fingers occupied by cracking open a peanut. He craved the familiar intimacy he saw when he looked at his friends and their partners. Maybe jealousy wasn't the right word, but he always felt left out of the loop. They all knew something he didn't, and he craved to be on the inside with someone of his own.

"I'd choose you over Jake any day, Bob. You're smart, and I like talking to you."

He smiled at her as he said, "That may be the case, but you'd choose Bradley over me."

"You got me there," she said with a laugh as she kissed his cheek, making him avert his eyes to the floor. "I'm probably not the best judge of character though."

Bob looked toward where she was smiling now and saw Bradley with his hideous tie dye shirt and idiotic looking backwards baseball cap as Jessica slaughtered him in a game of pool. "Yes, you are," Bob told her quietly. Because as soon as Bradley looked at his wife, his expression became one of complete wonder.

"Sugar! Come here! Jessica is being mean to me again!"

She squeezed Bob's shoulder and then took him by the hand, bringing him along with her to the pool table. He blushed again as he looked a little nervously at Bradley, but everyone knew Bob was harmless. He was the one just drinking a ginger ale since he had to drive home.

"Baby," Bradley whined. "She won't even let me try to make a shot."

"That's not her being mean to you. That's her being better than you," his wife replied. "And what's the moral of the story again?"

"Women should never be underestimated," Bradley and Jake said in unison.

"That's right," Jessica said as she sunk the 8-ball into one of the corner pockets. "Especially ones who have a PhD and tenure." She handed her pool cue to Bradley and did a little dance. Then she reached into Bob's cup of peanuts and said, "Chippy's are better."

"They are," he agreed with a nod and a grin. He cleared his throat as Bradshaw's wife finally dropped his hand. "So I heard the new semester starts on Monday?"

"Yes," Jessica gushed as she fixed her glasses. "And Brian took a position at the community college, so this should be my best semester yet."

Bob already knew that Jake was relieved that his girlfriend would be going to work in a more comfortable environment every day, but it was nice to see how excited she was.

"You know what I was thinking?" Jessica asked Bradshaw's wife quietly. Bob wondered if he should step away and give them some privacy, but they both kept helping themselves to the cup of peanuts. "Maybe we could put something up on the notice board in the main building, kind of inviting the other female teachers at the school to have lunch together one day? I felt so embarrassed and excluded from things because of Brian, I just thought it might be nice for anyone else who feels marginalized?"

Bradley's wife nodded. "I think that's a great idea."

Bob listened to them for a few more minutes before he wished them good luck as they started back to school for the fall term, and then he excused himself for the night. He stood outside in the dark parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the sound of the ocean before he climbed into his truck and headed for his silent house.

--------------------------

"Dr. Webber."

Anna looked at the name placard on her office door and bounced up and down. "Dr. Webber," she read out loud again. She had the worst office on campus, no doubt about that. It was miniscule and kind of smelled like stale bread since it was so close to the cafeteria, but she loved it. All of the shelves were crammed with her books, and she could lock the rest of the world out when she needed a minute to herself. She just hoped that the tiny office wasn't a sign of bad things to come after San Diego State University willingly hired her less than a month before the start of the term.

In a matter of eight weeks, she had finally- finally- graduated with her PhD in English Literature and secured a job on the other side of the country. She sold everything she could think of, including her rings, and moved from gloomy New Jersey to a studio apartment in sunny southern California. Sure, all she had in her kitchen was a toaster oven and a mini fridge, but she was on her own. She had nobody to answer to. And she never would again.

"I guess everything is smaller here," Anna told herself as she locked her office door and went in search of the classroom where she would be holding the first lecture of her teaching career. She was too early for the class, but she was filled with nervous energy and decided that walking around would help.

She looked in classrooms and listened to a poetry lecture on the third floor. She found a really secluded ladies' bathroom as well as a reading nook. Eventually, she and her copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn managed to wander all the way to the main building where she found a faculty lounge.

It smelled like coffee, and there were snacks out on the counter, and everyone was talking in pairs or small groups. She should probably get to know her colleagues, but she also didn't mind the anonymity that came with observing everyone without engaging. She was good at that, and she'd spend too much time around people who needed to be in the spotlight all the time. As she reached for a donut with pink frosting, she saw a notice board across the room and went to take a look.

The hum of conversation around her was comforting as she read about a yoga class in the quad, alumni night, and a teacher appreciation banquet. Then her eyes caught on a single piece of paper with a plain black font. It wasn't flashy, and somehow it reminded her of a page from a favorite book.

WELCOME BACK FOR THE FALL SEMESTER, LADIES!

If you're interested in getting to know some other women who work on campus, let's meet for a friendly lunch on the first Tuesday of the term! Noon in the quad next to the weird tree.

Anna laughed. She knew where the quad was, but she wasn't sure which tree was the weird one. They actually all seemed a bit out of place to her since she wasn't used to living near palm trees. She started to skim a notice about how to recycle old textbooks, but she didn't get far before she was re-reading the one about meeting up for lunch.

If it was truly meant just for women, then it sounded kind of nice. She could eat her sandwich outside. She liked weird trees. The idea of having zero men around made it even more appealing. The last thing she wanted was to develop an interest in anyone right now. Or maybe ever again.

She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the page before checking the time and leaving with her donut. Twenty minutes later, with her class assembled before her in a small lecture hall, she cleared her throat and said, "Welcome to English 205. I'm Dr. Webber, and this semester we will be covering the classics."

------------------------

"You can do this. You'll be fine," Anna said as she walked slowly across the quad toward a palm tree that looked like it somehow started growing sideways about six feet up from the ground. "It's just some people."

But she wasn't good with people. Kevin had been quick to tell her that all the time. He liked to point out that she was awkward unless she was talking about literature or poetry or something from the New York Times bestseller list. Apparently she didn't know how to talk about normal things. Her hands started to sweat as she held onto her brown paper bag and can of ginger ale.

"Oh god," she groaned as she got a little closer. Truly, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was just two women smiling as they talked to each other with their lunches. But they were both beautiful. Like the kind of stunning girls that Anna was always afraid to talk to when she was a teenager. One was wearing a suit and high heels, and the other was wearing cute brown loafers and some tweed, and she felt like her own outfit looked awful now by comparison.

It wasn't too late to just walk past them and loop back toward her office and never try to socialize again. "Yes, let's do that." She nodded and picked up the pace a little bit. She could turn left at the weird tree and then maybe even make a run for it. "What are you doing?" she whispered, slowing down again. It was one thing to swear off men, but it wasn't going to be an enjoyable existence if she never tried to make a single friend here.

With a deep breath, she forced herself forward, and then soon two sets of eyes were on her. All she saw was matching smiles as she approached and said, "Hi. I'm Anna Webber. Is this the weird tree?"

"It's the weirdest tree I've ever seen," said the first woman as the other one jumped to her feet.

"Hi! Are you here for lunch?" she asked as she adjusted her glasses. "I told you someone would come," she whispered to the first woman before sticking her hand out. "I'm Jessica Reed! I work in the physics department, and this is my friend, and we are so, so happy you're joining us."

Anna smiled at how bubbly she was as she briefly shook her hand. "I just got here," she said with a wince. "I mean... it's my second day working here? I just got hired. In the English department. I'm teaching literature." God, could she sound like any more of an idiot right now?

But Jessica gasped in response. "Advanced Literature!" Then both women squealed, and soon the other one was introducing herself and talking about the math department and pointing out a building Anna had never been inside yet.

"It's silly, we know, but we kind of have code names for each other. I'm Advanced Calculus, and Jessica is Advanced Physics. You can be Advanced Literature. If you want." Now she looked a little uncertain while Jessica bounced in her high heels. "Wow, we sound like absolute nerds."

"We are nerds," Jessica confirmed with no shame as she looked at Anna. "I collect scientific journals. She uses math as foreplay with her husband. Do you want to eat lunch with us, Anna?"

Her response came with an ease that she hadn't felt in a long time. "Yes. Please." Then both women were shifting their lunches down and making room in the middle of the bench. Anna took a seat and watched Advanced Calculus pick a carrot stick out of the most beautifully organized lunch container she'd ever seen. She also had a tie dyed lunch box that was charming in a hideous way.

"How's your first week going?" Jessica asked as she bit into a delicious looking sandwich on fancy, multigrain bread. Anna knew she didn't fit in here at all as she pulled a plain turkey sandwich and some peanuts from her bag, but it was all she could afford right now.

"Well," she said with a sigh. "It's better than New Jersey."

Both women squealed again. "You're from the east coast!"

"Yeah," she replied as she opened her ginger ale. "I grew up in New Jersey. I went to college and grad school in New Jersey. I attempted to move to New York, and then somehow I ended up here." She left out the heartbreaking parts about Kevin, because he didn't really belong in a conversation where she was surprisingly kind of enjoying herself.

She learned the two women were from Massachusetts and Virginia, and that they both had PhDs from prestigious universities. They were both in committed relationships with naval aviators who also happened to work together. And both of the men loved packing their ladies lunches.

"Lucky," Anna muttered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and thought about the kitchen in her studio apartment. It was so small, it almost didn't exist. She was almost thirty and essentially still lived in a dormitory. How sad.

"Hey," Jessica said suddenly. "If you like peanuts, you'd probably love Chippy's!"

"What's Chippy's?" Anna asked curiously.

"Eww, no. Don't listen to Jess. Chippy's is a disgusting dive bar on the other side of campus."

"It's not disgusting! He just doesn't clean the floor."

Anna laughed. "I actually do love peanuts, but I'm not a big drinker." Then both women silently studied her, and she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. She'd said something wrong already. Of course things couldn't be this easy.

"Huh. You like ginger ale," said Advanced Calculus as she sat paused with a carrot stick halfway to her mouth.

Anna nodded as she said, "My... well, a guy I know used to make fun of me for being a ginger and loving ginger ale." She gestured to her auburn hair which was clipped up at the back of her head.

"Are you married? Or in a relationship?" she asked, and she finally bit into the carrot.

Anna didn't even have a chance to reply as Advanced Physics gasped on her other side. "You like peanuts. And ginger ale. How do you feel about men with glasses?"

"How do you feel about men with greenish blue eyes?"

"How do you feel about sweet men who blush?"

"Would you ever date a guy in the Navy?"

"Are you fond of beat up pickup trucks and country boys?"

"Do you want to come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

Anna was starting to get whiplash as she looked back and forth between the two of them. "Wait, I'm sorry. What? I thought we were talking about a place called Chippy's?"

"We were. But now we're talking about a man called Bob."

-----------------------

Omg omg omg. Okay, here we are with a story for our lovable Bob. Thanks for reading about the Sugarverse. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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#bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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strangeshoepatrolbandit-alt · 4 months

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A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing.

Summary: He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. You're the sacrificial lamb. (What it was like.)

Warnings: Wolf and lamb imagery, mentions of sexual interactions, one of them being Non-Con... I think?("Making love", "fucking", "thrusting".), naivety, mentions of murder and blood, killing Lucy Gray Baird, being a Trophy wife, lies, mentions of breeding, being trapped in a marriage, getting hunted, guns, mentions The Hunger Games, mentions hanging(Sejanus' death), rebellion, being a shell of yourself, being tied up, getting rid of a body(Lucy Gray), toxic relationship, controlling!Coryo, Coriolanus' being 'bony'.

Fem!Reader.

I'm trying something new with my writing.

He lured you in.

He was one of the best Academy students and the only power he had was his name.

He spoke with you over open and discarded books, spewing with his charming words.

Sweet naive you.

He pressed soft kisses to your lips and thrusted in a pattern that made you see stars. Cosmic. Making love.

He was kind to your family, he was kind to your friends. He cared for you.

°•°•°

He was a mentor in the tenth Hunger Games, his tribute was Lucy Gray Baird. He helped her win, cheating for her from behind a screen while you supported him without knowing what he's done.

He was caught, and his punishment was becoming a Peacekeeper. Originally for District 8.

You threw a fit in his bedroom, crying and crying over again, begging the universe to not separate the two of you.

Dependent.

His hands held your face as he looked between both of your eyes, his own going back and forth. Left and right.

"No, you wont." He sounded so firm, but his voice still held the softness he could only have for you. "I'm going to 12. I will make sure to see through with it. You will go to 12."

And like a lamb led to the slaughter, you did.

°•°•°

You watched him beat a man, defending Lucy Gray like she was still his responsibility. You swam in the lake with him, holding onto him and laughing without a care in the world. You broke down with him after Sejanus' death. You stayed in the cabin with him and Lucy Gray.

The three of you planned a future that would get you all killed. You spoke the same words that had your dear friend, Sejanus, hung in front of a galore of witnesses.

Murdered.

Martyr.

You were oblivious to the way Coriolanus was cracking, something finally going off in his brain. He broke down.

He revealed what he's done. He told you both about Sejanus. He's why Sejanus Plinth, Bobbin, and Mayfair are dead.

Backstabber.

Murderer.

Lucy played it cool, keeping her calm as to not draw suspicion.

She grabbed your arm and a basket, making it seem innocent as she told him the two of you were going to pick katniss.

"Lucy Gray," He stared as she opened the door, a bright smile on her face as she gripped you tighter. "It's still raining."

"Well, we're not made out of sugar." And with that, she pulled you out. The two of you walked together until you were out of sight from the cabin windows.

And then you heard him.

Screaming, yelling, gunshots, running.

Cat and mouse.

Snake and bird.

Wolf and lamb.

Lucy Gray was dead beside you, and Coriolanus Snow was her killer. You were on the ground, your lover on top of you, tears spilling from your eyes as you stared at your lifeless friend. Coriolanus' hands dug into the plush of your body while he forced you to stand, holding your wrist with one hand while dragging Lucy with the other.

Back at the cabin, you were bound enough to where you couldn't run, but watching as Coriolanus wrapped up Lucy Gray's body and dumped her in the lake you all swam and laughed in just days before.

"No loose ends." He repeated to you as he forced you into the cabin, tying you to the bed the two of you slept on. "Besides you. But you won't tell anyone, will you?" He asked softly, wiping your tears and pushing back your hair.

You shook your head repeatedly, breathing heavily and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Good." He let out a breath as a smile grew on his face, now caressing one of your cheeks. "Good girl."

He leaned in and kissed you, ridding you of your clothes while you cried. He wasnt sweet. He didn't kiss the tears away, they just seemed to egg him on. This was not making love. He was fucking you while you were vulnerable.

You didn't get to leave Panem. You didn't get to run off and live a fairytale.

Coriolanus brought you back to the Capitol, solidifying you to him by announcing your engagement to him.

He didn't stop. Not even when he moved in with Sejanus' mourning parents, not even when he killed them.

Not even when he became the president, and you the First Lady.

You were both in your twenties, living better than you used to.

Coriolanus was no longer bony, no longer hungry. He no longer wore the clothes his cousin, Tigris, would make him. His hair was no longer buzzed like it was when he was a Peacekeeper, and his personality was different than when he was eighteen.

You're still intimate. You live, work, eat, sleep together. Your womb is warm for his seed. You're married by Panem and Capitol law. But you are not partners. He is the dictator. You're the trophy First Lady. You dress exactly as he likes. You act exactly as he likes. You move exactly as he likes. His word is law. Yours is nothing. And every moment you are his, you wonder what it would be like to not have to dance to his puppet strings.

He lured you in.

Sacrificial lamb.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas x reader #thg series #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 7 months

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Working Away

Summary: Your boyfriend is away murdering people and calls in the middle of the night to get some help coming down.

Jason Todd x Reader

1.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, masturbating, phone sex,dirty talk, pet names, implied choking, praise.

AN: two things, 1 Im bored, so take this. 2. I can't keep up with the tag lists and soz.

"Come on babygirl, pick up," Jason paces through the loft of his new safe house. This is the longest he's been away from you since you started dating. He wanted to call you when he landed days ago, but things thinged and he just didn't have time between all the killing and patching himself up. Today was mania, he finally found the head of the group he was looking for and it ended in a slaughter.

Its been a few hours now and he can't seem to come down from this high. His blood is pumping, his cock throbbing in his jeans, fuck he just needs to hear your voice. If that's all he can have for the moment he will take it until he can get back to you.

"Good mornin," you whisper into your phone, your voice still full of sleep, "you ok?"

"I'm alive if that's what you mean."

"Kay, goin back to sleep."

"No, wait. Sugar, can you," he hears the rustle of your blankets as you adjust yourself in bed, "can we just talk for a while?"

"Okay, just let me put ya on speaker."

"Are you comfy?"

"Yeah I am now."

"Got all your pillows?"

"Ah, hmm."

"Are you cold without me?" He asks as he slips his pants off and lounges back on the bed, "or are you wearing my shirt?"

"Yeah, but it's losing your smell," you roll over resting your head on his pillow, the scent of his shampoo still lingering, "what did you want to talk about?"

"You. How pretty you are, how much I wanna kiss you, how I wanna lick every inch of your perfect body and how fucking badly I wanna be inside you."

"Blood-lust, daddy?"

"Yes, Sugar. I need you."

The sleep rushes from your body as your pussy starts to ache, slipping your panties to the side you slide your fingers through yourself. "I miss you, it's not the same when I do it. I can't-'' you shiver when your fingertips graze over your clit, "-can't reach all the places your big hands do."

"Tell me what you want me to do." He spits into his hand once, twice, before sliding it down the inches of his hard cock, "I promise to do it when I get home."

"First I want you to kiss me," your hands grasp at your akin, "like that night in the alleyway."

"Mm.. I remember that night, the way you melted under my hands," he closes his eyes, recalling how your eyes watered when his hand slipped around your neck and he thrust you against that wall, "how pretty you looked under that light. Then I picked you up and had you against the wall."

"Yes, Jay. I want you to pick me up," your hand slips further down your body, "then throw me on the bed."

"I'll rip that shirt off you, " His hand pumps faster on his cock, “and anything else that gets in the way of my lips on your skin.”

"Your marks are fading," your hand holds your throat, "I need new ones, daddy."

"I can't wait to give you more. To mark up that soft skin of yours while my fingers are deep inside that pussy."

"So deep, my nails stabbing into your back." You moan as the picture starts to form in your head, your fingers thrusting inside of you, trying so hard to reach that spot that he always finds straight away.

"You sound so wet, Sugar. Fuck, I need to taste you.” he growls as he cock starts to drip on his hand, “What you to taste all this pre that's dripping down my hand right now."

"I love the taste of you.” your tongue darts out, the phantom taste of him in your lips,” Love feeling it drip down my chin and my throat.”

“Fuck, it stretches that pretty mouth so wide, doesn’t it.”

“Makes me feel so full.”

“My favourite is feeling your teeth graze over me.”

“You love that tiny bit of pain.”

"I do, Sugar. We're perfect together. Fuck, I love you." He groans, "I need to cum, you think you can-"

"Me too. I want you so bad. Need to feel you stretch me out," you pant, your back arching off the bed as your fingers attempt to get deeper, "I can't do it on my own, daddy."

"Yes, you can. I need you too." His hand tightens on his cock, the way your pretty pussy always does when he fucks up into you, "you know I can’t until you do. Now be a good girl," he smiles to himself when he hears your breathing pick up, "press your palm into your clit for me and let all those pretty noises out."

"Jay, fuck. Keep going." you imagine him, sitting in his room right on the edge, his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes shut as he imagines you touching yourself. Sweat falling down his hardened brow as he tries to focus while also trying not to cum.

"You're such a good girl, wishing for me. Yes, let them out, fucking h'll. Like music to my ears, sugar."

"I'm getting close, fuck. I ah- I- Jason."

"You wanna cum for me? You wanna come for daddy?"

"Yes, please, pelase, pelase."

"Then do it, I wanna hear all of it."

Your orgasm cascades over you, days of pent up pleasure exploding all over you at once. Your limbs shake and your mind spins and you can hear Jason's pleas all around you.

“Sugar, I need you. Fuck, can you beg-” he moans, his words choppy as he tries to form a coherent sentence, “beg for it.”

“I need it, please,” your voice still hoarse, “I want it.”

“Do you? Not- Ah, fuck me. -more”

“Please cum for me, daddy. I can’t- please please.”

“Yes, Sugar. You want it, you want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please, cover me in it.”

“I- Fuck, I’m gunna- I am- fuck, yes, Sug-ahhh.” he screams and you wish you were really there to drink it all down for him. You lick your lips, listening to Jason's incoherent praise as he comes down.

When he lets out a little sigh and you hear the thud of his back hitting the mattress you ask,. "Jay, when are you coming home?"

"I still got a few more days, Sugar."

"Okay," you roll over, snuggling into his pillow. The smell should be comfortable but at the moment it just makes you feel even more alone.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, I just. I need a bundle."

"I will give you all the cuddles when I get home. I promise."

"You better and that's not all I want."

"Tell me and it's yours."

"Everything you promised. Plus 3 days of uninterrupted Sugar time."

"You know I'd do anything for you."

"I know." You pause, shifting the blankets up and shoving a pillow behind your back, "Jay."

"Yes, baby."

"Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Want a lullaby?"

"Yes please."

You start to drift off to the soft hums of a slow song, Jason's low baritone seeping into your dreams and keeping you safe until he returns.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #red hood x reader #reader x red hood #x reader #jason todd fanfic #red hood fanfic #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd smut

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camarocarfight · 3 months

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Alastor's Bloody Valentine

Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special

Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.

Maybe there'll be a part deux?

It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!

New Orleans, 1932

There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts.

As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.

With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”

“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!”

You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar.

With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive.

Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”

You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker.

“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped.

Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face.

Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.

Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”

“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”

“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice.

Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes.

“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”

Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”

Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson.

“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”

Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so.

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”

“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.

“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”

Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”

“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair.

In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor.

“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”

Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”

“You're a tease,” you swallowed.

Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”

A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream.

“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily.

You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”

Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”

“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.

Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him.

“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase.

Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck.

“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again.

You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer.

“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly.

The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor.

He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly.

You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you - so that everyone knew you belonged to him.

“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.

The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a whisper. “To be mine, forever?”

Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.

“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”

~~~

You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up.

There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned.

You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books.

The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not.

You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”

“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”

Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”

Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face.

“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”

“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”

“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”

Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it.

“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”

“Please put the knife do-”

You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.

Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”

Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.

“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”

“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked.

Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.

Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.

“It's a date.”

Part Two

#alastor x you #alastor x reader #human alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Down to Business

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet Andy for lunch and discuss a new potential job. Word Count: Almost 3.1k Warnings: Reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, slightly d/irty thoughts, slight insecurities, slight power imbalance if you squint, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: More of my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby and @flordeamatista (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You knew you were out of your element the moment you stood in front of the restaurant. The pillars and steps were reminiscent of a courthouse, hence the name, but more lavish in design with the ornate marble. It seemed to tower over you, silently judging you for daring to set foot there. You didn't belong there, even if Andy had asked you to join him.

No. I'm not going to let him or myself down by chickening out.

Straightening the skirt of your dress and checking your folder once more to make sure you had your resume, you held your head high as you went inside. You wouldn't pretend to belong in a place this nice, but you refused to belittle yourself. You were smart, determined, and capable, which was how you got your old job. Whatever job Andy had to offer you, you'd make sure he knew you could handle it.

"Hello," you greeted the hostess. "I'm here to meet Andy Barber."

"Yes, he's expecting you," she smiled, giving you a quick once over. The dark blue dress you wore was, you hoped, nice and professional enough for the place and Andy. "Follow me, please."

The emptiness of the restaurant was eerily quiet and made you feel almost uncomfortable before you spotted Andy seated in the middle of the main room. Power clung to him as he rose to his feet, perfectly at ease as he buttoned his suit jacket. You would have thought you were a lamb headed for the slaughter if not for the gentle smile on his face. Your breath hitched before you smiled back and you were thankful you didn't trip over your feet.

"It's good to see you," he said, moving around to pull out your seat. "Thank you for joining me."

You were used to the barrier of the diner counter between the two of you and it hit you just how large and imposing he was up close. The man could break you if he wanted with his size, but it was the gentle smile on his face and the intensity of his blue eyes that struck you as he helped you into the seat. The gesture told you he was a gentleman, but his aura said something lurked beneath the surface.

"Thank you for asking me," you said, his musky cologne lingering as he went back to his chair. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

After Andy invited you to lunch, you downed some coffee and immediately got ready. You wanted to give yourself plenty of time so you wouldn't be late. It would've given a bad impression if you couldn't even be on time for lunch.

"Not at all," he said, the glittering chandelier above him giving him an otherworldly glow. "You look lovely."

Your heart raced as you caught him gazing at you. A man as attractive as Andy Barber calling you lovely felt like a dream. The crackling tension had to be your imagination. Wishful thinking.

"Thank you," you said, wondering if you should tell him how handsome he looked.

No. Don't flirt with your potential boss. Lusting after him won't do me any good.

You opted instead to look over the menu. You didn't see any prices and wondered how much everything cost. Or maybe people didn't care about what they spent at a place this nice. Since you had no clue what the cheapest selection would be, you decided to go with the entree that sounded the most appetizing.

"They have a nice wine selection if you're interested," Andy offered.

You glanced up and locked eyes with him. It was hard to get a read on him, but he likely had a good poker face from practicing law and his business ventures. You wondered how others reacted when he focused his attention on them. You refused to look away.

"I think I'll stick with water," you smiled. Not that there was anything wrong with having a drink in the middle of the day, but you were there to discuss business. He could have offered it as a test and you didn't want to fail. "I appreciate the offer though."

Andy hummed and leaned back in his seat. He didn't look upset, which was a good sign. "Nervous?"

I'm just sitting in one of the nicest places in the city with the most gorgeous man I ever laid eyes on who could change my future. No nerves at all.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"Your posture," he answered as he gestured to you. "Tension in your shoulders."

"Oh," you said, only a little surprised that he noticed. "Is it wrong to say that I am?"

"No, because I told you I appreciate honesty," he reminded you. "May I ask why you're nervous? What happened to being 'cautiously optimistic'?"

He listened to me.

"Because," you began, setting your hands in your lap so he wouldn't see you twist your fingers together. "I want to make a good impression and I don't want you to regret asking me to this lunch, especially since you went through the trouble of having them open the place."

I want my luck to turn around.

"If you hadn't made a good impression on me to begin with, I wouldn't have asked you to lunch," he spoke, reaching for your folder and opening it as your shoulders relaxed a bit. "Time is precious and I wouldn't waste mine or yours."

"That makes sense," you said as his eyes skimmed the paper. "I kept my objective simple since I wasn't sure what the position was, but I could update it if you need."

"No need," he said, lifting his gaze once he finished looking it over. "You have a wonderful resume, which I knew you would, and you're a hard worker. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me."

You felt your insides warm up from the praise that poured in. While Andy hadn't seen you in an office setting, he had seen you in action at the diner. He knew you had a can-do attitude and could remain calm under pressure. You were friendly even when people were rude. You just needed your luck to turn around so you could stay on top of your bills.

"Thank you," you whispered, the knot in your stomach unraveling. "I appreciate hearing that."

"It's the truth," he assured you before the waiter came over. "But why don't we order before we discuss anything further? Pick whatever you want."

"Okay," you smiled, mentally telling your stomach not to growl as the waiter poured you each a glass of water and went over the specials.

You took the opportunity to glance at Andy when he ordered, trying not to get lost in how confident he sounded while simply picking out something to eat. While he wasn't stern with the waiter, you noticed his voice wasn't as soft as how he spoke to you. Maybe it was a coincidence.

Maybe it was also a coincidence that he stared down the waiter when it was your turn to order. An unreadable expression again, but something colder. At least he wasn't rude to him.

"Did you have any questions for me?" you asked once the waiter left.

"Down to business, aren't you?" Andy smiled. "That depends on how the next part of this conversation will go. Have you heard of Huffman Enterprises?"

You nodded. Scott Huffman was another former lawyer and an associate of Andy's. The name came up when you did your research.

"He's expanding thanks to a merger and needs new employees," he explained, tapping the folder with his finger. "I know for a fact he has openings for positions similar to your previous job on what's likely a higher pay scale. All I have to do is make a call and he'll hire you on the spot."

You placed your hands on the table as you leaned forward slightly, trying not to appear too eager. You enjoyed your last job before they had to let you go. The opportunity sounded too good to be true though. And you weren't sure why, but it disappointed you that it was a friend of Andy's that would potentially be your boss and not Andy himself.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise since I'd probably be too busy fantasizing about the man in front of me.

"That sounds wonderful, but why do I feel like there's a 'but' in there?"

"There's that cautiously optimistic side you talked about," he smiled sadly, the knot in your stomach starting to form again. "Because the job isn't available immediately. It will be a few months before you can start. I'm sorry it isn't sooner."

There it is.

Your heart sank, but you didn't hang your head. Maybe that was why Andy didn't tell you the exact details of the job. Had he said immediately that you couldn't start right away, maybe you wouldn't have taken him up on his offer to meet. It could still work if you had to tough it out for a few months. Maybe you could get a second job in the meantime to help cover your expenses.

Only maybe.

You jolted when his hand covered yours, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, honey. Be honest with me. Can you survive the next few months on what you're making now?"

Tears threatened to surface when you didn't answer. You would have to find a way, even if it ruined your credit if you couldn't stay on top of your bills. Or even if you lost your small apartment. You didn't want to be another crushed dreamer in the city.

"I didn't think so," he said, his voice laced with sympathy. "What if I offered to help you?"

"Help me how? By giving me a loan?"

No one helped for free and no way would you be able to pay him back within a reasonable timeframe. The interest alone would drain your bank account. It would be another circle of issues. You didn't want that with Andy or anyone else. You also didn't want to be a charity case.

He brushed his thumb over your hand in a featherlight motion before he pulled away. "Not a loan, but what if I got you caught up on your bills and covered your rent until you could start that job?"

"And what would I have to do for you, Mr. Barber?" you carefully asked.

"I told you to call me Andy," he said, his eyes not leaving yours as he sipped his drink.

Heat rolled down your chest as he licked the liquid from his lip. "What would I have to do for you, Andy?"

"Be there for me," he stated as a matter of fact, running his fingers along his beard. They were so long and thick. "I have some functions to attend and some traveling to do over the next few months. I need someone by my side for all of them and I want that person to be you."

"An assistant?"

He shook his head. "I have an assistant. I'd like you to be my companion."

It wasn't humiliation that washed over you as he waited for you to speak. A wave of shock, perhaps, as you processed his words. Maybe you hadn't heard him correctly.

You waited for the laughter. The punchline. It wasn't a job he was offering you.

It was something else entirely.

"You want me to be an escort?" you asked just above a whisper.

"If ‘escort’ is what you want to call it, but I prefer companion," he said, the corner of his lip lifting. "Escorts sometimes sleep with their clients and I didn't say you have to sleep with me."

You were thankful you didn't have a drink in your mouth. You likely would've spit it out or choked. Maybe he didn't say it, but did he want it? Would he ask that of you?

Would he eventually expect that of me?

"First thing, if you agree, you'll have to quit the diner so you'll be available. Which means you can't take another job in the meantime. I'll have clothes and jewelry bought for you and also give you petty cash in a sense for anything else you need. I'll cover your bills and expenses, so you won't need to worry about that," he explained when you stayed quiet.

"All that just for a few functions?" you asked skeptically. It seemed to be a bit much.

"Some of the traveling would be for days at a time. I'm hoping you and I can get to know each other a bit before those take place so you feel comfortable," he said. Hearing that made sense since the two of you didn't know each other very well. "And I won't ask you to move in with me since that's both fast and takes away your independence, but I would feel more comfortable knowing you're not alone in your current apartment. I have a place in my building you could use in the meantime."

You exhaled once he finished. The man seemed to thrive on control and he would essentially take over your life if you agreed. No job meant no income unless he gave it to you. Even living in a nicer place, it was his building.

"I don't understand. Why me?" you asked, searching for something on his face that could give you an answer.

It didn't make sense to you. He could hire someone if he needed dates to functions. He could find any woman on the sidewalk if he wanted to.

Why was he asking you?

You didn't jump this time when he put his hand back on yours. "Because you're one of the only honest and kind people I've met in a long time and you shouldn't have to struggle. I want to help you, even if it's just for a short time," he said, your heart skipping a beat when he smiled a little. "And between us, I'm a bit lonely and I like talking to you."

The vulnerability in his gaze was an emotion he was allowing you to see. It was enough to shake your resolve because you understood how loneliness could eat at a person. And while you didn't find yourself interesting to talk to, he deserved to have someone in his life who didn't try to use him for their gain. He probably had more than his fair share of that.

I'm not using him if he's offering, right? I wouldn't take more than necessary. Just enough until things were right again. Still doesn't seem like a fair trade.

"Say I agree to this. When the job comes up, that's the end of our arrangement?"

"If that's what you'd like," he answered evenly. "You'd be working, so I wouldn't exactly be able to whisk you away on a whim. And you'd start with a clean slate so to speak since everything would be paid for until you receive your first paycheck."

That was something to consider. "And if I say no?"

"Then I pay for your lunch and your cab and contact you when the job opens up down the road," he offered with a casual shrug. "If you still want it, it's yours. If not, no harm done."

That surprised you. Andy would have nothing to gain by setting you up for a job if you didn't agree to spend time with him. And you didn't get the sense that he would sabotage your chances if you turned him down. It was as if he wanted you to succeed.

Who are you, Andy Barber?

"I think I know why you asked me to meet you here."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"You didn't want to speak over the phone because I could have hung up or blocked your number if your offer upset me, so you chose this place. Almost a middle ground, but a place where you still hold the cards because you're showing me what I can have if I agree to this," you said, waving your hand toward one of the empty tables. "You also chose to speak to me alone in a semi-public place. The public aspect so I wouldn't be uncomfortable, but alone as a way to keep my dignity intact in case I insulted you or worse. It's smart."

And a power move while still considering my feelings.

He gave you a single nod, seemingly impressed. "That's a good analysis and I'd have to agree with you. I'd like to add it was also to keep my dignity intact in case you threw your drink in my face or slapped me."

"I imagine the staff here would be discreet on your part," you smiled. "And lunch isn't over yet. There's still time in case I decide to make a scene."

His warm chuckle sent heat down your spine. "I'll be on my best behavior to ensure you don't, though I wouldn't mind."

"I'll need to think about it," you told him, smiling more despite yourself. It was a lot to consider. "And we'll need to discuss specifics."

"You're talking to a former lawyer. I'd insult myself if I didn't have some kind of contract drawn up for the two of us."

"A Sugar Daddy contract?" you teased before you could stop yourself.

God, why did I say that?

The waiter chose to return at that moment, the enticing aroma of the food filling the air. Andy didn't take his darkened eyes off you as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. You barely managed to say "thanks" when the plates were put on the table, too entranced with the man across the table. Virtually a stranger, but determined to help you and get a little something from you in return.

"Call me 'daddy', honey, and I can't promise I'll be on my best behavior, but if it will convince you to be mine? Say it all you want," he said in a low voice, deep enough to make you rub your thighs together as he smirked. "So. Exactly how much time will you need to think it over?"

You sat in thought for a moment as you tried to weigh out his offer. "I'll let you know how much time I need after we're finished with our lunch," you finally answered with a small smile.

And you had a feeling you'd say "yes" a lot sooner than you thought.

So, yes. The answer HAS to be yes. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #sugar daddy!andy barber x reader #andy barber #sugar daddy!andy barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber imagine #andy barber au #sugar daddy au #terms and conditions au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

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komouri-official · 7 months

Text

My bad guys i meant to do this sooner i got distractedddd

Victim #2: Leonard Moore; Death Explaination

^somewhat graphic writing ahead!^

-On the 6th day, Leonard got lost in his own world. He was wandering around and Sugar followed him.

-In his trance, they found themselves in the big garbage pile. Sugar suggested they go back to the group, but Leonard was about to "find the dragon" or something idk

-Leonard got way ahead of Sugar, she kind of stayed a couple feet from the entrance.

-After a couple minutes, Sugar yelled she was heading back to the group. But there was no reply. This wasn't that strange, though, considering Leonard's behavior. She went to check just in case.

-After walking for about 3 minutes, she came across Leonard's body.

-his right eye seemed to be scooped out, and his left eye was sewn shut. The final blow was an ax to the chest. The killer gagged him so he couldn't scream.

-His body was found by Sugar (duh)

#island of the slaughtered #pahkitew island island of the slaughtered #total drama pahkitew island #iots #tdi #leonard tdi #sugar tdi

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months

Text

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.

#simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine

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whatitshouldvebeen · 8 months

Text

Johnny Slaughter x Reader housewife request

Cut this down to just the smut, you heathens

Contains: blood, knifeplay, cutting, marking, and smut

You were in the middle of stirring scrambled eggs when you felt a hand slip down the waistband of your shorts, sending a shock shooting down your spine.

"Johnny, I don't get how you're always so quiet," you said, giggling as you felt him press his toned body against yours from behind, his fingers toying with the lace of your black panties.

"Huntin' works better when your prey don't know you're comin'," he whispered against your ear before nipping your earlobe.

"You don't have to hunt me, baby. I'd be as easy to hunt as roadkill," you joked. Johnny smirked against your ear, your statement all too true.

"You're too pretty to be roadkill, babydoll," he rumbled. "I'd make you into a trophy. Hang you in my bedroom so I could look at your beautiful face every night 'fore I fell asleep."

It took some time before you'd gotten used to his fascination with keeping trophies, but the numerous animal heads hanging on your walls showed he wasn't slowing down any time soon. You leaned your weight back against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso, and smiled as his lips trailed down your neck.

Still, the hardness you felt pressing against your backside proved that the outfit you'd worn to entice him had worked, and your mind was already becoming hazy with lust.

"I been thinkin'," Johnny said, kissing the nape of your neck, "you'd make the most fuckable little housewife."

Your pulse fluttered against his lips. You'd never pushed him for anything; you'd been happy just being his girl. But the word "housewife" made your heart race. He hooked a thumb in your waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down, and his fingers quickly found your already soaked slit.

"Oh yeah?" You gasped as he dipped his fingers inside you. "You think so?"

He murmured an affirmative against your skin while he rocked his hips against your butt. "I know it. What do you think, babydoll? You wanna get married?"

Your lips curled, one of your hands flipping the burners off on the stove before you turned around to face him. His head was cocked to the side, a handsome smile on his face. Your eyes trailed down his bare chest, pausing at each scar, each one telling a different story before looking up into his deep brown eyes. "It's a tempting proposal, but I could use some convincing. Why don't you make me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. No, it was more like a predator, the type to make your blood run cold.

"Alright, I'll make you, darlin'. If you really want me to, I will."

You felt like a rabbit in a snare, squeezed between his muscular body and the stove, completely at his mercy.

"What'll it be, sugar?" He asked, his hands on your hips, and his eyes trailing down to your cleavage before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

You leaned forward and cupped the bulge in his jeans with one hand.

"Make me."

That was all it took. Johnny's fingers sank into your hips almost painfully as he yanked you against him. "You'll eat those words, darlin'," he growled.

Then he dropped to his knees and pulled your hips against his lips like a man starved. You gripped his wrists while his broad hands cupped your ass, forcing your hips toward him as he burrowed into you.

He always loved eating you out, but this time there was a primal aspect to the way he licked and nipped at your folds. Your fingers entwined in his dark locks as you moaned his name while he traced your entrance, gathering every last drop of your sticky wetness.

Johnny twirled his tongue around your clit and dove in so hard you could feel his teeth against your lips, his tongue curling upward, lifting your hips into his hungry mouth.

Desire dripped down your thighs, mingling with his saliva, while your muscles clenched and shivered. They remained taut, each nerve pulsating with sensation. It felt like an exhilarating marathon, beautiful agony traveling from your thighs to your hips. Moans spilled from your lips, and you tried to draw him closer, but he withdrew.

"This pretty little pussy is mine," he said, his voice low and possessive, before thrusting two fingers into you, making you whimper and tug at his hair. His lips descended upon your clit, nibbling it, sending sparks of both torment and ecstasy throughout your body.

"You're such a slut for me, baby girl." His fingers moved to tease your sweet spot, making your toes curl. "So fucking wet."

He stood, and you whined at the loss of his tormenting touch. His eyes were hungry and dangerous. "You're going to be my pretty little housewife, aren't you, baby?"

You gasped as he pressed against you, his hands on either side of the stove, trapping you.

"I could be," you purred, "but… I'm not entirely convinced."

His gaze darkened. "You're mine," he hissed, a predatory snarl forming at the corner of his lips.

"Prove it," you whispered breathlessly. His pupils dilated, and suddenly, you felt the tip of a blade pressing against the soft skin of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at him. Fear mingled with a strange sense of excitement, sending tingles shooting through you.

"Johnny?" You whispered as your mouth ran dry.

"You ever watch someone die?" He said, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. Johnny had always had a fascination with his Bowie knife, and sometimes you'd glimpse it stained with fresh blood, but he had never wielded it against you—until now.

"You ain't never quite the same after that, lemme tell ya."

Both of your eyes fixed on the blade as he subtly twisted it, drawing a single droplet of blood from your delicate skin. You winced, but you didn't concentrate on the pain as you were enraptured by the intense look on Johnny's face.

With the pad of his thumb, he traced the droplet and brought it to his lips. You were immobilized, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring your essence. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as if your blood were an exquisite ambrosia.

Johnny had given you love bites, sure, but this was the first time he'd purposefully tasted your blood. You could tell he reveled in it, and part of you wondered why he never asked to try it before.

You would have let him, after all. He could've had any and all of you that he desired.

As the unfamiliar tingle of blood leaving your body coursed through you, he picked you up roughly, and your legs wrapped around his hips reflexively. Your blood smeared against his abs, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to arouse him even more as he carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down like an offering.

Your eyes remained wide, adrenaline surging through you as he unzipped his pants and revealed his gorgeous erection, stroking it hungrily while his eyes devoured your body. He looked at you like a man might admire an ice sculpture, as if he expected that he wouldn't get to admire your beauty much longer.

"Baby?" You asked hesitantly as you tried to sit up in bed.

Something sinister sparked behind his eyes, and he left the room briefly, returning with a handful of rope. "Oh, you ain't getting away. I'm keeping you," he snarled, then knelt on the bed beside you, tying your wrists together and then to the bedpost with ease.

A rush surged behind your ears as he immobilized you, leaving only your legs free, trembling with both arousal and fear.

How did he know how to handle the rope like that? He'd never tied you up before, but the way he did it so effortlessly spoke of practiced experience. You'd always felt that Johnny was hiding something from you, and you had a suspicion it was directly related to his ability to make you feel absolutely helpless.

But what Johnny didn't know was, some part of you had been waiting for this. You were more soaked than you could ever remember being before, and the unadulterated bloodlust he exuded was intensely alluring.

"You ain't going anywhere," he growled, his eyes ablaze with an intensity you had never witnessed before. Your blood gleamed on his torso, and every sinew of his body appeared tightly wound, poised for imminent action. "Ready to meet the Bad Man?"

"The Bad Man from your dreams?" You let out a trembling whimper. Now, this was the figure you'd only encountered in Johnny's waking nightmares. Those harrowing nights when he'd awaken in terror, locked in a life-and-death struggle with an invisible foe. Those nights when he shielded you with his body even in slumber, and upon waking, he remained unconvinced of your safety for days upon days.

"Darlin', he's all too real," he murmured, his words dripping with a chilling anticipation. With deliberate slowness, he drew nearer, his eyes locked onto yours. When his face finally met yours, he seized your head and tilted it to the side, trailing his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, where he clamped down with savage intensity. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he pressed his body flush against yours, the taste of fresh blood flooding his ravenous mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground his hips against your stomach, his length squeezed between you both. Tears welled in your eyes, but you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before.

"Johnny," you whimpered as he continued to suck your earlobe.

"You wanted this, darlin'," he said with a chilling laugh.

You bit your lip. "I-I'm not asking you to stop."

And, for some reason, that gave him pause.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back. His lips were bloodstained, but that wildfire that had consumed him was simmering behind his gaze as he regarded you with equal parts possession and hunger.

You nodded. "Yes, really. I always knew there was something you were hiding. I want you to know I love you. All of you, Johnny," you said, even as your body shook. "And," you let your wrists go slack, "I like being claimed by you like this."

Something in Johnny shifted then. It was almost too much, the flood of emotions that swept over him, and he didn't realize it, but you felt his tears splatter against your skin.

"I love you more," he said, his voice barely a whisper. You'd heard him say it before, especially during sex, but this was different. It sent chills rippling through you. And when his aching cock slid into your wetness, you both gasped in pure ecstasy.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you against him, and groaned deeply. You felt so good that he couldn't help but pick up the pace, driving into you with a fervor. All your nerve endings coiled and tensed, already hypersensitive, and you wrapped your legs around his powerful hips in euphoria.

"I'm gonna make sure you ain't never forget who owns you," he said, and you mewled in response as he withdrew from you and reached to the bedside table, taking his knife in hand. You caught your reflection in the silver blade, your skin flushed, your lips parted and panting. You couldn't wait to see what he'd do.

Johnny used two fingers to gently circle your clit, keeping you on edge as he traced the tip of the knife between your breasts, down your belly, and to your hip where he'd marked you earlier. His motions slowed to allow him better control, and he pressed the tip of the blade into your skin again, a little deeper than before.

You winced but didn't move as he etched into your skin. Your body was screaming to have him back inside you, and his slow circles on your clit were driving you mad with desire. Pain was indistinguishable from pleasure as he carved your skin like an artist working on a masterpiece. When he finished, he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the marks he'd made. When he withdrew his tongue, you caught the small JS he'd carved just above your hip before blood obscured it.

"Mine," he said once more, and this time, you didn't argue. After all, no one else had their initials etched into your flesh.

Johnny continued to play with your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance before pushing into you again. You'd submitted to him before, but this time was different. This time, you felt nothing but pure bliss. You were his, it could no longer be denied, nor would you ever want to deny it.

The resounding slap of his balls colliding with your sopping wetness was lewd enough to make your mind spin, or perhaps it was the blood loss, but either way, you felt light-headed and airy under his command. One hand moved to cup your breast while the other continued to assist his cock in driving you to the brink.

"Are you going to be my perfect little housewife?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrust deeply into you. You could see two sides to him, the vicious and the docile, in harmony in his rapturous gaze.

"I will," you conceded, your breaths coming in sharp pants while he pistoned into your exquisitely viscous core.

"Cum for me, babydoll," he commanded. The tension that had been building since the moment he approached you sprung loose, and you climaxed hard around his throbbing length. With a guttural groan and a final, deep thrust, you felt his climax paint your inner walls before he collapsed on top of you, completely spent.

You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but they were still tied to the bedposts, so instead, you kept your legs locked around his hips and nuzzled your cheek against the top of his head. He looked up at you with the same smile that had melted your heart the first day you met him.

"Thank you, babydoll. Thank you."

#tcm smut #tcm game #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw #johnny sawyer x reader #johnnyxreader #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny sawyer #tcm

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dontyoufeelitangel · 1 month

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And that was it.

You were an angel, once a human. A human who lived a very comfortable life. And with that comfortable life came rules. Strict rules that you followed, rules that sent humans like you to heaven.

So when death knocked at your door, you gracefully accepted it, and danced with death. Your life was slow, comfortable and some might even say boring. And in the end you would have done it a thousand times again to get to where you are today.

You were a good human.

You are a good person.

You are a good soul,

And a good angel.

But above all else, you are a good partner, you’re Adam’s partner.

Life eternal with this man was unbelievable. You did all the things you never managed to do in life.

You partied hard, you lived freely and without care. And according to Adam you “rocked and rolled”.

This was all true. As an angel you did things only human you could dream of doing. For the first time in your existence, you lived, and you did it all by Adam’s side.

You were pure, you thought Adam was too. Behind all the sex and drugs and parties, you still had morals and ethical principles.

Maybe that’s what Adam loved so much about you. He could mold you into that party animal he always wanted. He could go down on you and the only name you’d be screaming was his. You were his defender, standing by his side above all else. So that at the end of a hard day, he could come home to his angel, with dinner ready and open loving arms awaiting him.

For you, Adam was eye opening, life changing. He gave you a whole new perspective. And because of Adam you were able to live without consequence.

For Adam, you were everything he could want. You were putty in his hands. He changed you to better fit his liking.

But that doesn’t mean the love wasn’t real.

The love was real, god, he loved you more than anyone else.

You and Adam’s relationship was… hard to explain.

But still, it was beautifully raw.

Adam loved you so, he knew he had to be truthful to you.

It was terrifying for him when he had to tell you about the exterminations. He expected you; so loving and pure, to hate him. Despise him even,

One thing he didn’t expect was for you to be on board, he had mentally prepared himself to lose everything he had with you.

The second you agreed to go down with him, he filled your ears with bittersweet affirmations.

“You’re the best babe!” , “those cunts won’t stand a chance against us,, holy shit!!” And “you’re doing the right thing sugar tits!!”

And just like that his wall of pride built back up, he knew his words would have you buckling at the knees and following his every command.

Oh god, you knew killing human souls was a wrong thing to do. You knew if your blade met the neck of a sinner, then you would be no better than the sinners being killed.

It was wrong, you knew that. You almost couldn’t bring yourself to kill another soul.

Almost.

The way Adam convinced you made it seem like they deserved it, perhaps the sinners did deserve it. Either way, you still melted like putty in Adam’s hand, agreeing to everything he said.

There is no sorrow in heaven, you couldn’t feel bad in paradise. So whatever remorse you felt for the sinners must have passed your system as quickly as it came.

The thought of killing another human soul only hit you again once you were in hell.

All the laws of heaven didn’t apply there.

There is no sorrow in heaven,

But there is everything in hell.

Every ounce of guilt, wrongfulness, and pain hit you like a train.

The feelings swirled and glittered in your stomach. The sorrow and shame ripped your heart from its very place.

You felt horrible.

You loved Adam so much, but no matter the love, how could you ever agree to kill another soul?!!

You didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

In fact, the sight of all the souls being slaughtered brought tears to your eyes.

In a situation like this, you’d rather get eaten, than eat.

In all the chaos and bloodshed, there flew your lover.

Adam zipped through the sky, occasionally dipping down to murder a sinner. Giggling when he added a number to his kill count.

The blood of sinners was red, dark red.

A large contrast to the glowing gold ichor of the angels.

Adam soon became covered in red, it dripped and splattered on and off of him.

You, on the other hand, were glowing. Glowing from the mass amount of attacks aimed at you. All of the attacks had left bruises, cuts and wounds all over your form.

Many sinners made an effort to fight back against the angels. They jumped and attacked every angel they could see. Unfortunately, you were an unarmed angel and you weren’t hiding. Because of all these things you made a perfect target. You weren’t going to harm these souls, even it they stabbed, bit and punched you.

You weren’t trying to be a beacon of peace, no, you just couldn’t bring yourself to commit such acts of murder.

You managed to get all the sinners off of you as you flew into the dark sky. Out of breath as you reached a safe distance from above the ground.

Only fires, explosions and lights from nearby buildings lit the sky.

Even with the small amount of light provided, you still found your husband among the crowd, covered in blood, without an ounce of remorse.

You slowly made your way to him. The sight was pitiful. Your body was already in excruciating pain, each flap of your wings didn’t help the fact.

You huffed and trembled, afraid each breath would be your last. Still, you continued flying on.

Adam’s eyes drifted and found your glowing form. His heart stopped.

The screams from around him were all drowned out.

The explosions and fire all seemed to stop.

It had almost seemed like god had stopped time for Adam, just for this moment.

Adam saw you and he didn’t know how you managed to become as beaten up and as mangled as you were.

For the first time, this man felt fear.

Raw fear.

Not fear of what the sinners where capable of doing to an angel, no,

Fear of losing you.

He’s already lost two of his wives to the hands of Lucifer.

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost his third to the hands of Lucifer’s children.

Staring into each others eyes.

The universe seemed to stop.

You were exhausted. Your tiredness spread to your wings, as they temporarily stopped beating. You slightly fell a short distance, but managed to bring yourself back up. Still out of breath and in pain

Adam saw your pain, sensed your fear and still made no effort to come close to you.

He hovered in the air with fear and guilt coursing through his veins.

He thought you’d be fine coming here. It was laughable actually, the fact he thought you -the party animal you were- would actually enjoy killing as much as he did, he would be far from wrong.

You were tired, your wings stopped as you plummeted down to the ground. You made small efforts to keep yourself flying with the occasional wing flap or two, as you fell. But nothing could beat the truth of your exhausted body.

Then -only then- did Adam decide to move. Like a statue being brought to life, he snapped out of his paralyzing fear and quickly followed you as you fell.

Unfortunately for you, he didn’t manage to make it in time to catch you before you hit the ground, fortunately, you weren’t to far off from the ground. So your unideal landing didn’t cause much damage.

“Holy shit-!” Adam muttered out as he quickly sat his body next to yours.

You made a sad attempt at sitting up from the ground, only to be met with a sharp pain coming from your head and base of your wings. Your body crumbled against the ground again.

You couldn’t wrap your brain around the fact that you might be dying.

It can’t be true.

Even after death, you were a good person. Even now, on your journey to and through hell, you never killed a sinner, yet you felt like god was punishing you with this death.

This death is more painful than your human death,

When you take a look at Adam, a man that has killed thousands, a man who’s had many wives, a man that has committed every sin during his time in heaven,

A man who is your lover,

It further proves,

Adam really is gods favorite.

Or atleast you felt that way.

You look your life backwards and forwards, your human life was slow. In heaven Adam had given you the most exciting extraordinary life

You did half the shit that he did yet you were still cursed with a second death?

For the first time in a long time you were angry.

Angry that you were dying again

Angry that your human life had amounted to nothing

Angry that Adam dragged you down here

Angry that Adam dragged you down here and got away with everything, angry that he still gets to live on without you.

As you lay dying, you lay angry at the fact other women might end up with Adam after you. You feel bad about feeling this way, you feel bad for hating Adam as much as you love him.

Adam on the other hand felt terrible.

Sure, it hurt when his other wives left him, but at least he could sleep knowing they weren’t fucking dead.

How could he recover from this?

No amount of alcohol, sex, drugs or anything could make him come back from this.

Everything came crashing down on him,

His plan to make you perfect for him, his plan to spend eternity with you.

In the moment, he felt like god hated him most.

So when the time came for you to pass, he didn’t cry, he didn’t whine. Rather, he sat there and felt the worst pain imaginable.

You and Adam’s relationship wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t fucked up either.

The love you each felt for each other was raw and real.

He made you into his perfect party animal, while you used him as a ticket for a life you never got.

It was messed up, but the love was there, and the love was real.

So that’s how it ended,

And that was it.

Gods favorite lost another one of his lovers,

Heaven lost another angel.

So imagine how it must’ve felt, to rise from the dead, and find two horns on your head..

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 75

Part 1 Part 74

Steve doesn’t recognize the house he’s in, or the people hovering around him, shouting overtop his head. They’re strangers with familiar faces. One of the kid’s mouths will twist sideways, and he’ll get a flash of it looking just the same across a round table he doesn’t remember. Another will tug on a lock of his curly hair, and he’ll remember the way it feels between his fingers.

He knows them, but he doesn’t know them. Uncle Wayne’s in the kitchen, talking quietly over the phone, asking for a Hopper that no one seems to be able to find. The longer it goes on, the deeper the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes get.

Eddie and Will flit around the house, opening windows until the air doesn’t burn. Once done, they sit on either side of Steve on the couch he’d been deposited on, enough space between them that the heat from their skin barely radiates.

He finds himself mentally repeating their names on loop – Eddie, Will, Eddie, Will, Eddie – like he’s afraid if he doesn’t, it’ll leave his head like everything else, crowded out by the shadow’s reaching claws.

“What was that?” Eddie asks, hot breath burning against Steve’s cheek. He wants to lean into it, let it burn right through him.

“Hmm?” Steve asks, still looking at the hustle and bustle of the unfamiliar house, moving through it like ants to the slaughter.

“You’re saying something,” Eddie says.

It’s only then that Steve realizes he’s been mouthing their names, lips pursing around the “W” of Will’s name, tongue clicking around the “D” in Eddie’s. He closes his mouth, bites down on his tongue until he tastes blood, and doesn’t answer, even as Eddie sighs.

The arguments peter and die out. No one comes, no one goes. There’s a pile of breathing bodies surrounding him, on the couch, the floor, out of sight, bundled beneath blankets and sweaters.

Steve doesn’t sleep. He’s not sure if he even remembers how.

Someone kneels in front of him, hands hovering over his knees like she wants to touch, but they never make contact. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Her bangs are charmingly flyaway, framing her large, sad eyes that make his chest ache. She’s looking at him like she wants to help him, save him. Like this isn’t what was always supposed to happen.

Still, something in it twinges and he remembers, abruptly, sitting across from this woman at the dinner table, being served burnt lasagna, and tepid eggs, and letting it fill him up.

“I’m fine, Ms. Byers,” he says.

It’s not until the words come out of his mouth that he remembers who she is – Ms. Byers, Ms. Byers, Ms. Byers – like his mouth is saying things his brain is starting to forget.

She huffs, smiling wryly down at him before standing, reaching her hand out to haul him up before seeming to change her mind, curling the hand into a fist even as she smiles tightly down at him.

“Come have a coffee with me.”

He follows her into the kitchen, stepping over bodies carefully on his way.

Ms. Byers brews a fresh pot, looking cozy in her fuzzy socks and oversized sweater, winter coat thrown over it. She’s even got mittens on. Steve wants to squeeze her until she bursts. He sits at the table and watches her work.

She pours two mugs, leaves hers black but doctors his with milk and sugar. She puts it in front of him on the table, a creamy brown that looks right.

She sits across from him, hands curled around the mug like it feels good. She brings it to her lips, with a sigh, like all the world’s troubles are sloughing off her shoulders with a hot cup of coffee.

Steve wants to feel that. The porcelain hurts as he picks it up. He takes a sip that burns profoundly down his throat. He swallows and lets the heat in.

“Now,” Ms. Byers says, looking over at him from above the rim of her cup. She doesn’t look sad anymore. There’s a fire in her eyes he’s not sure he’s ever seen before. “How are you really?”

Steve puts his own mug back on the table, it sloshes over the side, still almost entirely full, making a puddle on the wood. He stares down at it, wondering if it’ll warp.

“I can feel it,” he says, plucking words from the air and making sense of them only after they leave his mouth. “Right here.”

He puts his hand to the back of his head, lets his fingers stroke into his hair and scratch at his scalp, like he’d be able to dig him out. “I can always feel him,” Steve says, finally looking back up at Ms. Byers.

The fire’s stoked in her eyes, set alight, even as she frowns across from him. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Steve gets lost in her eyes. They’re dark enough to swallow him. Dark enough to be smoke. He gets lost in the shadows.

“We’ll figure this out.” There’s a woman sitting across from him at an unfamiliar table. She’s smiling at him, talking to him, leaning toward him. “We always do.”

There’s a woman sitting across from him. He doesn’t know her. She calls out to him when he gets up and walks away, but he doesn’t look back. Her presence is fading into smoke. Into nothing.

He goes to the couch. There are two warm, breathing bodies on it. He slides between them, keeping his distance, even as he looks back and forth between them, repeating their names like it’ll keep them in his head.

“Eddie, Will, Eddie, Will, Eddie—”

Smoke clouds his mind, pushing him out. He repeats their names, even as the grasp he has on his own begins to fade.

“—Will, Eddie, Will, Eddie—”

He doesn’t sleep.

Part 76

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #steddie upsidedown au #will byers

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ohkkotsuu · 10 months

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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. maki zenin

ৎ୭ PAIRING: maki zenin x f!reader (she/her pronouns, afab anatomy)

ৎ୭ ABOUT: having maki as a girlfriend is to be treated like a spoiled princess! nothing but the best for her favorite girl.

ৎ୭ CW/TW: SFW. no-curses au, maki is kind of despised by the zenin clan but she still has A LOT of money, this is like a sugar mommy fantasy im not gonna lie but with TONS of affection and no sex. reader is the daughter of a lesser family. everyone is around 21-26. reader is not exactly a bimbo, but i wrote that thinking about a bimbo-way of acting. this is kinda of nonsensey?

ৎ୭ A/N: english is not my first language and I wanted to write about Maki buying stuff to her gf. this is my first time posting anything I write, im sorry!! i hope you like it.

MAKI is used to disobeying zenin clan's orders. she owes them nothing, and never will. despite her insistence on breaking the rules, they refuse to let her out of the gilded cage that is this family. so she makes things difficult for them.

she thought things couldn't really get good. that even with her eternal struggle, she would still be forever subjected to a putrid rockbottom with no escape. no light, no guiding star. there's when you show up.

the first time she sees you is at a diamond viewing party. of course, a jewel auction for the three clans to squander their wealth, but also for the heirs — the real diamonds — to come forward and form bonds. if not for the arranged marriage, then for the fun and drinking. the illusion of choice gleaming in the eyes of those naive ones makes maki's stomach turn.

most heirs are annoying. she has no idea where mai is (and frankly, she couldn't care less), the youngest boy of the kamo clan is being annoying. everyone is completely stressing her out, not realizing it's all lambs heading to the slaughter. in their lives there is no real life or joy. they will enjoy their families' dirty money, but they won't be happy. everyone is pretending everything is fine, and it's getting on maki's nerves.

so, she grabs a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray and leaves the party, her feet leading her to the most secluded place in the house: the garden. only issue is, you had the same idea. sitting on an elegant bench and surrounded by flowers, there's you. it looks like a damn movie scene, she thinks when her heart skips a bit. you don't seem willing to put on a mask to please your family either, if you're sitting on a cold night alone in an elegant garden.

she can see you're trying not to shiver, but the sleeveless dress they've chosen doesn't help against the biting cold. at least the zenin gave her a white (fake) fur coat courtesy. then she walks over, takes the fur off her shoulders and puts it on yours. you look up at her, frowning. you look cute when you frown, she thinks.

“you're going to freeze to death here. keep the coat, I don't need it.” she says simply, sitting beside you without asking. but she didn't need to ask. you were happy.

maki took a sip of champagne, and you took a moment to study her. the black dress hugged her curves and showed off her muscles well. she had an aura of confidence, her hair shorter than most women's. it looked like she'd been through hell and come out stronger. though, you thought, not even Dante could have written such a beautiful, angelic figure.

“so, i'm Maki.” she introduces herself with a smile. you smile back at her. “and you are?”

and that's how it started — the gateway to her paradise.

maki hangs up the phone without a second thought. she doesn't care which idiot wants to marry her. she has everything she needs right here, now, in front of her. she wants to focus on that. you're in an expensive mall coffee shop, finishing your orders when she gets the call. another marriage proposal, another refusal.

“Maki?” your soft voice pull her out of her thoughts. it's like being called by an angel. because that's what you are. her angel. “are you alright?”

“yes, darling, don't worry.” she gives you a reassuring smile and moves her hand to rest over yours on the table. it makes you smile and one day, she swears she's going to combust over your smile. it is the most important smile of her life, the smile she will protect without hesitation. “is the coffee good, angel?”

the petname makes you flustered. you nod, sipping on the coffee. it's the kind of stupidly expensive store, even for a coffee shop. the seats are comfortable and the food is simply delicious. your girlfriend loves to spoil you, after all.

“yes! it's so nice.”

“perfect, dear. do you wanna go to that clothing store after you're done with your food?”

maki can go a little overboard sometimes, but spending money on your favorite things is her way of her showing love. gift giving. moreover, it's an excuse for her to see you trying on nice clothes, feeling good, turning around to show her the extent of the fabric. to her eyes and her eyes only.

the store is so fancy, and has every kind of dress, and it's perfect. she totally let go of her schedule, because no matter how many boring meetings the zenin want her to lead — sitting on a comfortable fancy sofa and watching you twirl in cute dresses is a much better way of spending her time.

“Maki, look! this one is so pretty!” the dress you show her, your favorite color, is amazing on you.

maki is sprawled out in the elegant sofa with light-tone pillows. the whole appearance of the store makes her much more evident, the dark green hair and the black and white laid-back suit make her look powerful. but that's the fun in your dynamic: she's the resting bitch face girlfriend, and you're the one in a cute dress, spending her money like it was your own. because is. all of her is yours.

“yeah. it is.” she smiles softly, raising one of her arms and moving her index finger to call you. “babe, come here. you like this one, right?”

you nod, coming closer. god, you're so pretty, she can't help but think.

her heart is yours, completely in love with all the ways you act. her soul is intertwined with yours, fate decided to bring you together permanently, that's the feeling she has. she is absolutely and completely lost when it comes to you — no one can take her love like you do. and nobody can love her like you do.

maki holds the hem of the dress, feeling the fabric between her hands. she meticulously evaluates, but her biggest focus is on your smile, your happiness — and of course, the dress actually looks great on you. it's a perfect win-win: you look comfortable and pretty.

“so let's take this one too and a couple others. pick whatever you want.” she moves her head to look for an employee. next to your girlfriend, on the same sofa, there is already a pile of dresses of your size. “excuse me, my girlfriend wants to see more dresses like this.”

she says the title with possession, smirking. she grabs one of your hands and bring it close to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“anything else you like, angel? buy anything you want. we'll be using my card.”

anything for her favorite girl.

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