#but he can take what he dishes out for the most part
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PREGNANCY JOURNEY | Sebastian Vettel
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram
rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 1 here
summary: a little bit of your pregnancy journey with seb
word count: 2809
warnings: none of it! just seb and reader being cute (at least that's what i think sjsj). settled on 2012 season
a/n: I love dad!seb bye, pls send me requests bc he's literally the seb i love to write the most about
you can send your one shots requests here!
feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!
Yours and Seb's families
It had only been two weeks since Sebastian and you had discovered you were going to be parents in that room in Hungary, and you wanted to start sharing the news with your family.
After much deliberation on how you could do it in such a special way, you decided to organize an intimate dinner at the house they shared in Switzerland.
As you enjoyed the delicious dishes you prepared yourself with the useless help of your boyfriend, nerves filled you both as you prepared to share the news at the end of the dinner. So, when desserts arrived at the table and you enjoyed them while chatting animatedly about trivial matters, Vettel gently took your hand under the table. With a glance, you knew it was time to tell your parents what you had been hiding.
You took your glass of wine, from which you hadn't been drinking, and stood up, causing the attentive gazes of the three present to focus on what you were about to say:
"Mom, Dad. Heike, Norbert," you began. "Today you're not here just because I'm showing off my ridiculous cooking skills, but for a more special reason."
Confusion arose among the older couples, who exchanged confused looks with each other.
You began to get emotional, finding it impossible to articulate your words. Therefore, Seb took over for you, continuing with the improvised speech:
"I know it might not be the right time," the younger German expressed, taking your hand, "but you're going to be grandparents."
"Wait… What do you mean, Sebastian?" your mum asked curiously, doubting what her son-in-law just told them.
"That's right, son," Norbert agreed with your mum. "What are you trying to tell us?"
"We're going to be parents," you whispered, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm pregnant."
As soon as your mum heard from your own mouth that you were expecting a child, she rushed to hug you tightly, immediately joined by Vettel's mother, causing all three women to have teary eyes. Norbert immediately ran to hug his son, shouting in excitement as he did so, and your dad, on the other hand, was in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"Wait a moment, Y/N," Michael commented, rising and positioning himself next to his son-in-law. "Are you saying that you've been accompanying Seb all season while pregnant, and on top of that, you've kept it from me?"
You started laughing at your dad’s comment. Sebastian, on the other hand, began to feel fear for the first time in his life towards the man who initially became his idol and, over time, not only his friend and mentor, but also his father-in-law.
"Dad, no!" you denied. "I haven't been pregnant all this time. I'm currently about three weeks along, and we found out as soon as we arrived in Hungary because I was nauseous and dizzy the whole trip," you explained.
"I'm sorry if this caught you off guard," your boyfriend apologized, especially to Michael. "It’s not like we haven't been hiding the pregnancy," the young man declared, "but we needed time to process it and make sure it wasn't a false alarm."
Schumacher sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around his wife. Heike hugged her husband, who still couldn't believe he was going to be a grandfather for the first time.
"Yeah, okay…" your dad finally replied. "I'm glad to know that my eldest daughter hasn't been taking unnecessary risks and that, furthermore, you've been celebrating Seb's victories properly."
The mention of this made Sebastian wish he could disappear at that moment just like you.
"Michael, don't say that to them!" your mum exclaimed, hitting her husband's arm. "I still can't believe we're going to be grandparents. It's wonderful! Congratulations, guys!"
Once you exchanged hugs and congratulations, the quartet returned to the table to finish enjoying dinner. The truth was that your parents were concerned about your condition, but for different reasons: on one hand, Michael knew how stressful Formula 1 could be day in and day out, and he didn't want his eldest daughter to suffer accompanying Sebastian, so he would have to have a serious talk with you. Corinna, on the other hand, knew they still had to break the news to Gina and Mick, who would be aunt and uncle in about nine months. As for the Vettels, there was nothing to comment on or exceed: in a few months, the family would grow even more, and the excitement of having the little one in their arms was overwhelming them at that moment.
The former decided to stay silent for the moment, pondering when he could have a chance to talk to you alone. Corinna, however, decided to ask you about what how would you break the news to your siblings:
"Y/N, dear," she immediately captured your attention despite being deeply engrossed in a conversation with your father about Seb's performance that season. "Don’t you want to share the news with your siblings? I think they would like to know that you're pregnant, they would be quite happy..."
"Yes, of course..."
"For now, we would like to enjoy this stage of the pregnancy privately," Vettel interrupted you, "although that doesn't mean we won't tell them. For heaven's sake, Corinna, my siblings don't know anything yet either!"
The woman glanced at her husband, who shot her a look to calm down. Indeed, both families continued to celebrate the new life Seb and you had created and, in due time, would reveal to the rest of their loved ones and possibly the whole world.
Mick and Gina
You couldn't keep the secret any longer. It had only been a couple of days since your parents and in-laws found out you were going to be parents. The same went for Seb's siblings, whom you finally called on the phone because they couldn't come to Switzerland at the moment.
Now it was time for Gina and Mick to find out they were going to be aunt and uncle at fifteen and thirteen years old.
Summer vacation was coming to an end for both teenagers and the eldest Schumacher. The kids had to go back to school, while you would be traveling the world again with you father and you boyfriend in early September.
For that reason, and because you were really excited to see her siblings' reaction, you decided to tell them that afternoon they would go to the mall.
"Guys," you said as you ate your bowl of cereal, "we're going to the mall today. I want us to spend some time together and, well..." you dropped a hint, trying to be mysterious. "I have some news to share, actually."
Gina's eyes widened in surprise. Mick kept his gaze fixed on his buttered toast with jam, pretending not to hear although he was actually really excited.
"Of course, Y/N!" Gina exclaimed excitedly. "I can't wait to buy some new clothes, especially to hear what you have to tell us."
"Exactly that," replied the youngest brother, mouth full. "You're acting very suspiciously, as if you've killed someone. Have you killed someone?"
Gina flicked Mick on the head, who immediately protested, sparking an argument. You simply cleared away your breakfast dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, leaving the kitchen seconds later, not believing that those arguing over a trivial matter would later discover they were going to be uncles.
Once at the mall, the three of you strolled through the aisles, looking for stores of interest and, especially, trying to blend in with the crowd, surprisingly succeeding.
The truth was that days earlier, you and Sebastian had agreed that to break the news to the kids, they would invite them to dinner at their favorite restaurant. However, to avoid raising suspicion, you would say that Seb couldn't make it because he had scheduled a meeting with Red Bull to discuss a few strategy matters. This way, you thought, the kids would be even more surprised.
As the afternoon wore on, your nerves, along with bags of clothes for the kids, and a few indulgences for themselves, grew.
"Y/N, is Seb coming with us?" Mick asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Oh, no, I forgot to tell you! Seb mentioned he had a Skype call or something with Horner and Red Bull about strategy, so he can't make it."
You hated lying to your siblings, especially about Vettel-related matters, particularly to the youngest. They had a very good relationship and sometimes seemed more like siblings than the three Schumacher kids together.
"I know you were excited to see him," you continued explaining, "but I'm sure in a couple of days, or even tomorrow, I can tell him to come over."
"Exactly, Mick," Gina chimed in, "let's enjoy an afternoon with siblings, there will be plenty of time for you to see your brother-in-law!"
After a while of strolling, you finally decided to take your siblings to the restaurant they held in such high regard. As soon as you entered, you spotted the Red Bull driver sitting at a table checking emails on his phone.
Sebastian looked up and found a preteen Mick Schumacher running towards him, receiving a hug the moment he reached him.
"What are you doing here, Seb?!" Mick exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "We thought you had a meeting with your team!"
Sebastian tousled the boy's hair and stood up to greet both Gina and you, who were giving him knowing glances at what was about to unfold.
"I guess these past few months I've become quite the expert in lies," you said. "And you're not here for just any reason."
Mick and Gina exchanged glances, not fully believing what their older sister was telling them.
"Indeed," Vettel continued, "before we order anything, we'd like to tell you that, around March next year, we'll be adding one more member to the family."
"You're going to be aunt and uncle, guys."
Both of them stood there speechless, trying to process what they had just heard.
"Is this for real, sister?!" Mick whispered cautiously, aware that you were public figures and attention would be on them at that moment. "We're going to have a nephew, Gina!" he turned to his younger sister, who was still in disbelief.
"This is incredible, guys!" Gina exclaimed. "I can't wait for March next year now... And I thought the best thing that could happen to me was going to see One Direction that month!"
You and Sebastian exchanged a knowing glance, realizing that the joy the younger ones were feeling at that moment was even greater than they had initially expected.
"We're so happy that you're part of this beautiful journey ahead," Seb explained, giving them both a hug. "I'm sure, and I know your sister and your parents are too, that you're going to be amazing aunt and uncle. The baby is so lucky to have a family like yours."
You wiped away tears. You hated getting emotional over the slightest thing, but at the same time, you were grateful to be surrounded by so much positivity and support from the early stages of her pregnancy.
"That's for sure, Seb," Mick replied jokingly. "But you have to understand that I'm going to be the funny uncle, and most importantly, his favorite."
The dinner continued with laughter, anecdotes from the teenagers that Seb and you had missed because of the Grand Prix races and, especially, future plans they would make when little Vettel-Schumacher decided to make his way into the world.
Mark Webber
After a month-long break, 2012 Formula 1 season was finally back in Belgium.
You, despite being about three, almost four, months pregnant, decided to continue accompanying you boyfriend for the remaining nine races.
Friday, before free practice sessions began, you were in Seb’s room at the Red Bull Racing hospitality. The German held an instant camera in his hands intending to take a few pictures of you, something that had become routine to document your pregnancy. You, reclined on the sofa in the space, simply caressed your increasingly prominent belly.
The flash of the camera snapped you out of your trance, immediately feeling embarrassed.
"Seb, I've told you a thousand times I don't like you taking pictures of me when I'm not ready," you commented, feeling somewhat uneasy.
Sebastian couldn't care less.
"You're perfect, Y/N Schumacher," Sebastian replied, taking another snapshot of you. "Come on, stand up for a moment and pose with our son for your future husband. You don't have to worry about looking good or not, you're doing enough work creating a life in your belly."
You agreed to your boyfriend's proposal, excited enough to hug your belly and shed a few tears.
Hormones were acting like crazy on you, and Sebastian Vettel might too if he kept being so good to you.
The blonde raised his camera again and once more took a picture of the scene in front of him, highlighting your smile above all.
As the photo was revealed and Sebastian, sitting on the floor, was admiring it, the door to the room opened, revealing a somewhat angry and surprised Mark Webber.
"Well, well…" the man exclaimed. "What do we have here?"
Sebastian and you exchanged looks, a mix of excitement and nervousness. No one beyond your families knew you were expecting a baby, and with the way the Australian was acting, you knew that would soon change.
"What you have here is the future best mother in the world, Webber," Sebastian explained, gesturing from top to bottom at you and then touching your belly once he stood up.
"That's incredible, guys! I'm really happy for you!" Mark approached you and hugged you, genuinely pleased with the news you had just revealed and especially by the trust you had in him to do so.
"Well, it seems Horner will be pleased when you tell him the news," Seb's teammate continued, "because I'm sure he'll want to sign the little one as soon as he's old enough."
"Of course, Mark," Sebastian replied. "Not every day you create offspring with both Schumacher and Vettel blood."
"The royalty of Formula 1, if I may say," Michael Schumacher interjected, entering the Red Bull garage despite not being part of the team. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to see how my daughter and my grandchild are doing."
You asnwered with a small ironic laugh at her father's remark, who was mistaken at that moment to think that Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would be a boy.
Kimi Räikkönen
The penultimate race of the 2012 season finally arrived, and you and Sebastian had finally revealed to the world that you were going to be parents. Although there were mixed reactions and comments, the majority of people who discovered that the eldest daughter of Michael Schumacher and the two-time world champion were going to have a child were quite pleased.
Both of you were in the paddock, arriving a bit later than usual.
"Vettel, hey," Kimi called out as soon as he saw you two. "I heard rumors that you have a new passenger in your very own car. Is that true?"
You burst into laughter at Räikkönen's irony, who maintained a cool demeanor.
"Yes, Kimi, it's true," Seb replied, still chuckling. "The baby is due in March, so just a few months to go."
You nodded in agreement with your boyfriend's statement.
"So, there will be a new fan running around the paddock soon..." Räikkönen commented. "Make sure he doesn't miss the races, Y/N."
"Of course, no need to worry about it..."
"But, hey," Kimi interrupted you, "don't let him stay up all night watching replays of my victories, okay? He's needs some rest too."
Sebastian was bewildered. However, you were laughing even harder at Kimi's antics.
"Don't worry, mate," Vettel replied, "I assure you I'll train her in such a way that she'll be taking you on track before she's even ten."
"Yeah, right, whatever you say" the Finn said ironically. "Just make sure that when she decides to enter the world, you invite me to her big welcome party."
You nodded, playing along with the Lotus driver.
"It's surreal that you've won another victory, Vettel," Kimi continued. "And remember: invite me to the party. I want to welcome the little one with alcohol, lots of alcohol."
Kimi lowered his head in farewell and continued on his way to his garage, letting you both get on with your day.
You and Sebastian knew Kimi well enough to understand that most of his comments were sarcastic, but within the sarcasm, there was genuine happiness for them.
Who would have thought that years later, Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would become the apple of her godfather, Kimi Räikkönen's, eye, every time she visited the paddock with her mother.
#formula 1#sebastian vettel#sv5#f1#formula one#sebastian vettel x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#vettel#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel x yn#formula one x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#formula 1 one shot#formula one x y/n#formula 1 x yn#fluff#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel imagine#pregnancy#pregnant#schumacher#michael schumacher#mark webber#kimi raikkonen#mick schumacher
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Sitting down for a meal with Chilchuck, Kabru, and Senshi? 👀
Your wish is my command! (Also, yay! My first request!)
Chilchuck Tims
Traveling with him inside of dungeons along with the rest of the Laios crew means, you guessed it: monster parts.
As much as he gnashes his teeth about some of the things that they eat, he's always gonna take a bite before you.
Like, will swat your spoon/fork out of your hand if you try to taste it before he does.
He doesn't know what's gonna happen! So, he'd rather eat it first before you.
On rare occasions, if he's really against what you guys are eating, and you take the first bite, he'll begrudgingly follow your lead, more often than not being pleasantly surprised.
He'll take your cutlery and plate/bowl from you to clean it, even if he isn't the one on dish duty for that meal.
If you guys are outside of the dungeon however, he likes to take you out on nice dinners.
(He's definitely not trying to make up for being a less than stellar husband, wdym?)
If you're eager to try something new, he'll also indulge with you, but he's not above ordering the classics just to be safe.
More often than not, dinner is chased with a nice bottle of wine between the two of you. Of course he's gonna share!
He can drink most of the bottle and feel fine afterwards, so usually he's relegated to corralling you home at the end of the night, trying to keep you out of trouble.
Kabru of Utaya
Travelling with Kabru's party usually means pretty standard rations inside of the dungeon.
Kabru is always looking to pick up on small details, and will usually take what you don't like and offer you whatever of his that you like instead!
If he's divying up portions for everyone, he keeps this in mind - and usually serves you first, which Mickbell usually heckles him about. (He means well.)
Will check up on you throughout the meal, seeing how you're feeling after the day in the dungeon, knowing that it can be pretty rough on people's bodies and their energy.
Depending on how you feel, he may offer up the last bit of his food to you - think of it as a little pick me up!
Outside of dungeons, he likes to take you to places you mention to him in passing, whether thats a quaint little hole in the wall, or a well known bakery that you always sigh longingly about when you smell their pastries.
He's the kind of guy that could absolutely order for you and nail it every time, even down to the small modifications. Same goes for when you wanna try something new; he always manages to pick something that you end up really liking.
He'll imbibe on occasion, especially after a successful dungeon crawl - but that's usually with the rest of the party in tow. Otherwise, he'll settle for something mild if he's just spending time with you.
Senshi of Izganda
Just like with the others, he's very particular about making sure that you have a balanced diet!
If there's anything you dislike, he tries different applications or styles to try and see if you'll like it some other way. If you don't, he doesn't fault you! There's even some stuff that he's not super fond of either.
He likes to have you help out with the golems on occasion, asking what the two of you should plant for the next time you get to harvest them!
On occasion, he likes to make something that maybe isn't completion nutritious, just to watch the way your face lights up - he just can't help but spoil you sometimes!
Instead of going out to eat, he likes to go for a walk through the marketplace with you to pick out something to cook together!
He'll usually insist on picking the cut of meat if you eat meat, though he'll check what kind of protein you're thinking about for dinner.
Otherwise, he leaves it up to you, enjoying the challenge of making something out of random ingredients that you may throw his way!
I honestly don't see him as a super huge drinker, so like Kabru, he may indulge with you in something pretty mild, maybe a cider if he's feeling like it will pair well with the meal.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi reader#delicious in dungeon reader#x reader#headcanons#hcs#dungeon meshi headcanons#delicious in dungeon headcanons#kabru of utaya#chilchuk tims#senshi of izganda
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https://twitter.com/akisguns/status/1715433157397209499?t=vzs34NezypMMAkr-yfS6UQ&s=19 heehee... kaeya
i don't knowwwww...
i kinda think kaeya would be into that?? then again, i hc him to be kinky AF - a bratty sub who wants to be tamed and put in his place once in a while. it's a really nice mental image tho 👀😏
(here's the clickable link)
#kel.answers 💌#i think kaeya is more sadistic than masochistic#but he can take what he dishes out for the most part#just like he can take my strap in his a-#I MEAN WAHT
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the sooner badboyhalo viewers realize he’s an unreliable narrator the sooner I’ll be able to sleep at night
#qbbh is unreliable he’s a little bit of an asshole he’s the worlds biggest hypocrite he’s self centered and in it for his own interests#he lies for fun he dishes out ‘pranks’ and ‘memes’ but cannot handle it when the role is reversed he needs things to go his way or he’ll#lose his muffins like#and I love it for him! his character can be frustrating sure but it’s fun he plays a good role!!#but bbh chat you are the bug under my shoe. be normal. learn what rp means for the love of god#media literacy! critical thinking! reading anything other than Twitter posts and hot takes please!#I’m once again seeing weird takes and it’s like man. qBad is so misunderstood. not for all the reasons you think though#he’s not misunderstood because he’s really in the right or good or whatever. he’s misunderstood because nobody understands his characters#views or intentions. i don’t think his character fully does either! unreliable narrator! please for the love of god!#I know I’ve made a whole other in the tags rant about this before but like it’s never been more applicable again#bad’s twitch chat be normal challenge level IMPOSSIBLE#and I don’t get why man. take example from the doozers w foolish. from jorge w bagi. Cellbit’s chat (for the most part) even#idk anyways#mcyt#qsmp#bbh#z speaks
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I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.
Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.
Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.
Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.
I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.
He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).
First, we get this:
Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.
They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.
It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.
We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.
What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?
He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.
In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.
Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!
...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.
Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.
And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.
I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.
And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.
Meals are the privilege of the living.
#Dungeon Meshi#Delicious in Dungeon#Kabru#Kabru of Utaya#Laios Touden#Dungeon Meshi meta#you can have him in the tags too. as a treat.#Dungeon Meshi spoilers#this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply#this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps#I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate#but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know#also I included image descriptions! I did my best#I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys#musings with Dea
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▸ you want to fuck my girlfriend? here, take a listen, scrub. - GOJO SATORU (forbes30!gojo au)
your boyfriend isn’t too fond when you speak so highly of your coworker, especially when he sees right through their motives — he thinks. so what does your boyfriend do when your coworker calls while fucking you? well, have him listen so he can fuck off.
content: 6.5k words (unedited bc i can't deal with this rip). afab!/fem!reader, she/her pronouns. minors do not interact. blowjob, and cunninlingus. you swallow his cum. he calls you pet names (girl, baby, sweetheart, angel, princess), he gets jealous of your coworker. fingering. satoru cums in his pants oopsies haha. breeding. he calls himself daddy one part for a joke. he cums inside you. he manhandles while his coworker hears you both doing the naughty naughty ◡̈ satoru gets nervous when you call him by his full name.
How did things turn out this way?
You were supposed to be enjoying your dinner with Satoru. You should’ve helped clean the dishes with him by now, maybe even put the plates back into the cabinets.
Usually, he’ll cling onto you like a koala from behind, arms loosely wrapping around your waist while his hands were placed at the base of your tummy. lightly kissing the back of your neck, complaining about how stressful the day was with Ijichi up his ass as you hummed back sweet affirmations.
And maybe by now, you were supposed to be having some dessert while cuddling with him on the couch, cozy and under the soft blankets as he played with your fingers, grazing around your promise one while watching ridiculous rom-com movies, murmuring under his breath something undecipherable with a smug look on his face.
“What,” you queried without taking your eyes off the screen, biting your lips as you intently rooted for the couple to finally get together, “ugh but Satoru how can she be so dumb!” frustratingly rolling your eyes, pouting as you slumped into his chest, “like the man is practically spelling it out he’s in love with her!”
“You tell me,” your boyfriend groaned, “because baby this feels like déjà vu.”
“What?” you intently looked back at him, “sorry… can you repeat that?” you cheekily smiled, clueless at what was going on in your boyfriend’s head, completely forgetting about the torment and the eight years of suffering (he liked to exaggerate) he had to endure just to be here with you today, not even adding the months it took for you to even date him during college — he liked to always add.
“Nothing,” he softly responded, pulling you closer as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “just thinking, that’s all,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your shoulder.
This was supposed to be the ritual for Thursday evenings — wind down and relax while shitting on the cringy plot as you both giggled about the unrealistic romance, completely delusional just how you both got back together…
And as most couples do, while peacefully lying together things happen to lead to another, a simple kiss becoming something more, wanting and needy, resulting in occasional sexual favors when you both are up for it.
occasionally.
“Nothing too strenuous,” he’ll smile while looking up at you, his hair softly covering your breasts as he kisses your perked nipples.
“Satoru… w-we can’t, we need to get up early.” The irony in your words almost made him laugh.
Can’t? Oh… how you underestimate him. Have you not learned already that there was no “can’t” in his dictionary?
“No no, princess, we can,” he tenderly seduced as his lips brushed against your skin, looking up at your needy face with his cheeks a faint rose, “we always make it work.”
“But ‘Toru! Ngh,” you whined, grasping his wrist as you arched your back. The way you sucked in a harsh breath when you felt his mildly calloused fingers inch their way down into your panties, gently stroking your sensitive clit made his cock painfully throb inside the restraints of his briefs.
“it’ll be quick, so relax,” your boyfriend coaxed, his tongue swirling and sucking against your breasts, his ego satisfied when he feels you succumb to his touch. And when he releases with a pop, a coat of his saliva glistening on your areola, he can’t help but salivate when he thinks about how pretty your cunt will also glisten with his spit as your cum drips down his chin.
“You’re such a liar.” you tugged on his hair, bucking your hips to get more friction against his hands.
“Don’t you know me so well,” chuckling as he placed tender kisses to your chest, reaching up your collarbone and to your jaws, watching your expressions change from expectancy to frustration as he teased to put his finger in, “baby, yes or no?”
Glaring at him, you pulled him closer, “I hate you—” your voice hitched when he pushed two fingers in, slightly opening his mouth to release a moan as he watched your head being thrown back and chest huffing at the sudden penetration, immediately placing his vacant hand behind your head so you wouldn’t get hurt.
“Aw, you’re going to hurt my feelings,” a sly smile crept over his face, his mellifluous voice making you clench on his finger. his hand brings your head down to see his fingers connecting with your pussy, the slick of your erection making erotic noises behind the muffled voices from the movie.
“but you hear that?” His long fingers slowly entered frustratingly in and out of your hole, twisting as the tip of his middle and fourth fingers arched to brush against your sweet spot, the gushes of your viscous juice being embarrassingly loud as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, arms thrown around him, “heh you love me so much.”
It’s always just to get the edge off from the day’s stress.
And it’s never quick with Satoru unless it was the risque office sex he liked to have recently or when he thrived off a fast run in goddamn random places. But mostly it was a couple of rounds at a minimum.
Other times, you were kneeling in between his thighs, your fingers linked under his waistband, pulling down his gray sweats — his bulge deliciously accentuated in it. A soft whine releases when you feel a knot in your stomach and a familiar aching in between your thighs as you lick your lips while palming his clothed member.
“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, scanning down from his face to his pelvis.
your boyfriend worked hard for his body, proven by the thousands of pictures he sent you while at the gym or during his free time. mostly unsolicited photos that he strangely knew exactly when to send — during your meetings, during lunch, or just when you’re about to leave the office.
“Yea?” he murmured, kicking his sweats off his ankles, “or do you just like seeing me half naked in my sweats you love to eyefuck me with?”
Satoru had a talent, gifting to be exact, for looking so pretty — especially when his lids were half opened, his pink lips mildly caved open while his hands desperately touched you. With his defined adam’s apple bobbing, expectantly swallowing a wad of his spit as you kissed down his neck, tongue gently tickling his collarbone while you made your way down his firm chest, placing soft pecks on his skin as your hands soothed out his clenched abdominals.
“Hmm,” blowing on his member and placing a sweet kiss on his inner thigh, “both,” you hummed.
He’ll hiss when the cool air meets his semi-hardened cock, looking intently down as your small hands wrapped around his pretty shaft. His cerulean eyes lasciviously looking down at you while you played with his member, licking at his tip and stroking his length. His eyes soon roll back, his toned arms flayed while his hands clenched onto the back of the couch, his lids fluttering while he desperately rasped, feeling your sweet mouth sucking at his balls, “fuck, just like that angel… such a good girl.”
Usually, you’ll draw out his high. Hearing his hitched breaths and wonton moans as you swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, placing soft kitten licks and butterfly kisses down his length, holding his shaft and putting it against your cheek to have him see just how big he was.
And only when you see his brows furrow, his hand making its way to the top of your head to gently yet impatiently push you down his length, that you’ll expand your mouth, and pull him in deeply to the base of your throat.
He’ll guide your pace to just how he liked it, hips bucking into your mouth as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and his neatly trimmed pubes tickled your nose. Hissing at how warm, soft, and just so right your tongue felt around his dick as his thumb gently massaged your jaws, cooing at how perfect you looked — satisfied that no matter how many times you’ve done this for him, it was still a struggle for you to take him in all three holes.
And on most Thursday nights, it doesn’t take him long to cum into your mouth. With his head thrown back as he gulped down his spit, the vein of his cock bulging more as you felt his shaft twitch in your hands. He’ll relentlessly shoot his warm seeds down your throat, his body hovering over you as he groans while gluttonously calling out your name — breathy and close to whimpers as he rode out his orgasm.
You’ll release his softened cock with a little pop when his chest starts to calm and you hear his graveled chuckle. tiredly smiling as you sweetly looked up at him, his eyes fucked as he gazed at the corner of your mouth still covered with remnants of his cum.
“here spit,” he’ll kindly offer his hand, voice groggy and deep.
Satoru is a simple man when it comes to you. Because when you open up your mouth, showing him there was nothing left, he’ll feel his cock twitch again as he smiles. Groaning with his one hand wrapped around your jaw, just large enough to hold your face to easily maneuver. With your cheeks lightly smushed by his grip, he’ll arch down to praise you just before landing a kiss, “that’s my girl.”
And on other occasions, he’ll have you laying on the couch, his fingers delicately spreading out your pussy while he swirled his tongue around your clit, his finger prodding inside you — one, two, occasionally three when you were really feeling it — his salacious eyes watching your body squirm and lip spread like an angelic ‘O’ as you moaned out ‘Toru’.
Call him a masochist but he loves the sharp pain of your fingers pulling at his hair as you come into his mouth. It makes his dick twitch to know he’s doing a fine ass job pleasing you. He’ll go on his hands and knees if it meant he could endlessly make you cum — in his mouth? Well, that was a cheeky bonus.
He groaned as he lifted himself up, swiftly looking at the drops of your juices traveling down his forearm before he caged you back into his arms, his lips kissing you loosely while your hand immediately found refuge in his briefs.
It wasn’t a surprise you still felt him hard — one round was never sufficient for a guy like him.
And in between kisses, as he tugged onto your lower lip, “did you feel good?” he’ll breathily mutter, being careful not to use his soiled hands to touch you, yet he’ll press further into your body wanting more of you.
“Mhm, always,” you’ll affirm as you breathe out, feeling him slightly tremble in your hold, “you okay, Satoru?”
“Baby…” as he slightly pulled away to look at you, “I never came so fucking fast in my life,” he groaned while looking down, his enjoyment proved by the dark circular outline on the groin of his sweats, “i’m still fucking hard.”
Aside from sex, Thursdays were supposed to be a routine. Get home, eat and wash up, enjoy a glass of wine or dessert, and warmly talk in each other’s company as you both looked forward to the next day after work — the weekly date night that Satoru thoughtfully planned.
Key word: supposed to.
This was supposed to be the usual for a typical Thursday night.
So, how did you end up here — naked and sticky, with his hands pushing down your thighs to your chest, his long fingers pressing into your plush skin with eyes dark and carnal as his cock stretched you out fully in his bed with his hips pounding into you as his phone obnoxiously buzzed.
Well, it’s probably when you mentioned you would have a work meeting with a coworker after dinner, completely neglecting him — his Thursday routine with you.
“With who?” clenching his chopstick as he silently chewed on his rice, knowing just who you were about to say.
“Well,” cleaning your lips with a napkin, “Tanaka-san wanted me to go over the presentation with him for tomorrow.”
Satoru was sure he felt a vein pop when he heard his name. He was already upset that you were partnered with him for your upcoming project, he couldn’t possibly show his disapproval when you were so excited telling him all the little details you needed to prepare for. So he bit his tongue and let it bypass, forcing down his complaints because, “it’s just work, nothing more,” you cheerfully responded while combing through his hair, his arms wrapped around you as he pouted, “you’ll be with a guy?”
He usually didn’t care who you were partnered with, just with fucking Tanaka-san he did — anyone but him.
The Tanaka-san that you talked so highly about. The one that always brought in an extra cup of coffee, because it just so happened that your favorite cafe near work would always mess up his order and give him a drink for free.
He’ll quickly text you, clicking his tongue in annoyance in his car, angrily shaking his legs as he stared daggers into the man.
>> baby! coffee and pastries are on me for you and your team ( :
>> and don’t drink that.
<< satoru… go to work, he’s just a coworker.
<< … and you bought lunch for us yesterday.
>> what? :p can’t spoil my princess? Damn the world is such a heartless place now, my girlfriend won't even let me love her.
<;< Gojo Satoru.
>> heh… yes? That’s my name!
<< go to work, Ijichi-san is calling me.
>> a thank you will be nice. or even a kiss, i’m still here ( :
Or when Satoru texts or calls during your lunch hours, the stupid Tanaka-san will always be in the photo or facetime, somehow always being mentioned that you were getting lunch with him.
And fucking god, whenever he would pick you up from work, he’ll see right through his actions, when Satoru catches Tanaka-san’s eyes linger on you a little too long for just a normal co-worker basis.
Fucking scrub, Satoru mentally cursed, the audacity of the guy to think he even had a chance with you. It took him eight years of pure agonizing delay, and there was no way he could top that.
Satoru noticed your phone was set on the table. Vacant and unused as you absentmindedly walked off to get some water. You made it so easy for him.
“Babe, I need to check something real quick, can I use your phone?”
“Sure,” you mindlessly nodded away.
Your phone recognizing his face, he quickly scanned through your messages to send a text.
>> Tanaka-San, sorry but my phone is dead. Can you text this number instead? 03-xxxx-xxxx
>> thanks ! ( :
<;< sure!
And before you came back, Satoru quickly pressed the messages with his thumb, quickly deleting any evidence.
“O-oh god,” panting while your fingers gripped onto the sheets, anything, to steady yourself as he rammed his cock into you.
“that’s the spot, yea?” throwing his head back, his hands now pressing at your waist, pulling your hips upward, allowing his cock to hit that very deep sweet spot only he can reach.
“you like it here right,” he growled, watching you with sweat dripping down his temple, his stomach deliciously flexed with every thrust he mercilessly pistoled his cock in.
“s-slow down! Youre gonna make me cum again,” you cried out, tears fanning your view.
Of course, he was, multiple times in fact.
Most times, he’ll gently cradle you in his arms, fucking you gently before picking up his pace. Prepping you fully while you impatiently writhed in his arms, your pussy wet as he slapped his cock on your hardened bud. He wasn’t one to shy from being too rough, nor was he hesitant to be soft. He’ll always stay tuned to your emotions and place you before his own release, but today… the sight of you crying solely because of his cock gave him an ego boost — especially knowing a certain brat was waiting for your attention.
Chuckling as he gave you a lascivious smile, the one that wasn’t his usual flirty nor sweet — the one that was onset with hunger and annoyance.
“Then cum,” he mockingly ordered, the slapping of his hips meeting your ass harshly echoed.
“it’s too much!” You cried out, your breasts bouncing with every thrust he made, barely making the words through the thick smell of sex and humidity in the room.
You weren’t sure if the sheer length of his cock entering deep inside you was stripping you of air, or the sudden match of his swollen lips on yours that made you feel suffocated.
“Satoru! ngh” you gasped in between his passionate kisses, “I-it’s too deep!”
“Angel,” he whispered, his breath closely fanning over your hot cheeks as the rhythm of his hips firmly pressed in, his thrusts unforgiving as he watched you ricochet at the force. His hand now placed a little over the base of your tummy, “don’t you feel me? I’m right here, silly.” Emphasizing his last word with a taunting smile.
“but ‘Toru —”
It was almost impossible but Satoru made it happen — he always did. Because within a split second, you felt his ass clench and balls slap firmly against your ass, groaning as his breath slightly hitched, “fuck you feel so good,” he rasped as his toned arms caged you in, leaving you no room but to face him, “you feel me, baby… this is how far I can go when I’m inside you, crazy isn’t it?”
Buzz! Buzz!
“fucking shit,” he cursed as his eyes shot to his phone, clicking his tongue in annoyance. Despite the little prank he pulled with your coworker, Satoru himself forgot who the recipient was as he mentally cursed at whoever was disrupting his time with you.
Quickly switching positions, flipping you onto your stomach, pressing you down with his weight as all 7.2 inches of his cock throbbed inside you, he hooked his arms under your, clenching his ass while rutting in.
Buzz! Buzz!
“Y-your phone,” you moaned out as you felt your boyfriend swiftly pulsing in, the slapping of skin muffling the sound of his phone, “it keeps ringing fuckkk,” you pulled out a moan, “maybe it’s important ‘toru!”
“i swear if it’s Suguru,” Satoru spat through gritted teeth, “im gonna kick his ass.” his hand reached over to his phone, immediately rolling his tongue against his teeth. Squinting from the harsh light of his screen, nothing could tick him off more than seeing his name.
Scrub — aka Tanaka-san.
<< scrub (27 minutes ago)
hi! you asked me to text this number so I did!
let me know when you’re free
<< scrub (15 minutes ago)
Hello, are you still up to facetime?
<< scrub (8 minutes ago)
Let me know when you’re free! (:
Also, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…
<< scrub (2 minutes ago)
Are you there? Let me know if you’re okay.
I’m getting a little worried now…
<< missed call from scrub (10 seconds ago)
“Why the fuck is he over-exaggerating,” Satoru’s voice laced with venom, clearly pissed when he feels his phone vibrate again in his hands, the caller ‘Scrub’ not knowing when to quit.
“dumb fuck doesn’t know when to stop does he?” he hissed, throwing his phone to the side before giving him your attention again, pressing his member further in as he grunted at the weight of your walls falling plush to his length — fluttering and warm.
“w-who — ah!” you gasped when the tip of his head teasingly grazed against your sweet spot, struggling to breathe with the weight of your boyfriend on top of you.
“It’s no one,” Satoru chuckled, cupping your sweaty face as he pulled on your lower lip, “aw guess i’m not doing my job correctly,” his arms quickly moved to cage your legs to rest on his shoulders, making it so easy for him to breed you right then and there, “if you can think while i’m fucking you.”
“—ngh! It feels so so good, ‘Toru! More more!”
“Yea, you like that?”
Managing to get your arms around him, despite the pressing of your thighs on your chest, you whimpered while pulling him even further down, “mhm I love it, makes me so full…”
Buzz! Buzz!
“I fucking swear,” Satoru mentally chimed as he grasped for his phone, standing on his knees as he ran his wet hair through his fingers, showcasing his forehead as you watched his features highlighted through the screen light.
“Hurry…” you cooed, running your foot up his chest to play with his nipple, smirking as you seductively bit your pinky when he hugged your thigh with one arm while he scrolled through his phone. His biceps perfectly curling against your calves.
The veins on his forearms bulging as his grip tightened against his poor device that he could easily break with how pissed he was getting.
At this point it wasn’t even the fucking scrub that irked him, it was the simple fact that this prick managed to get on his nerves.
>> scrub
Please pick up, I hope everything is okay.
“Turn around for me, daddy’s got some business,” his voice laced in humor yet his actions said otherwise. Before quickly sending a text, he ordered, “and get on your knees for me baby.”
“O-okay,” your obedience was so cute. Normally you would’ve picked a fight, not letting him get what he wanted so easily, but today you were rather submissive.
Getting on your knees, you felt his thighs spread out your legs further, his vacant hand kneading your bum as he ran the tip of his head against your wet cunt, pressing himself in slowly when his dick was felt nicely lubricated with your slick.
“Fuck…” he hissed through his teeth, watching his girth perfectly stretching you out from behind.
Buzz. buzz. His phone vibrated in his hand.
“Good girl, let me take this call real quick, it’s really important,” quickly pressing a kiss to your back.
Fastidiously looking back, your eyes round in panic, “wait Satoru are you serious right —”
He rammed his length into you, stifling you as he almost knocked the wind out of your chest.
“be quiet for me, yea? We’ve done this before,” he smirked, “just think it’s suguru on the line.”
“B-but this is different,” you panted while grasping hold of his pillow. It felt nice with Satoru’s scent covered all of it. Despite knowing this was wrong, how improper this was, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of eroticism in all of this — fucking while he was on a business call… what devil came over you.
And he, the epitome of the devil himself had the nerve to send you a wink as he flashed his canines in a smile, his cock bullying your cunt, “shhh,” he mouthed while placing a finger on his lips, “just be good for me and just take my cock, yea? Don’t want nobody hearing my baby.”
Quickly losing any resolve when he knowingly pushed deeper inside. “You pervert — Ah… just right there…” you softly mumbled, your body moving forward when he retracted back to meet him in the middle for a harsher impact.
Satoru loved to spread your ass, he swore he saw stars when he saw your wet cunt, your cute little hole, wrapped so tightly around him, his sheer size stretching your rim.
“You love me,” Satoru cheekily responded before lightly biting your shoulder. And in that you did, no denying. And he knew that — fully, most entirely well.
With adrenaline pumping through his blood, nothing could stop him from tearing this man up into pieces for even glancing at what was his.
“Hello,” Gojo’s voice was calm, his dilated cerulean eyes locked to the crevice of your ass where his cock slowly pulled out and entered back in to disappear.
“Gojo-san?” the other man questioned, briefly taking a second to respond, “Oh, I- I hope you’re well, Gojo-san.”
“I am, you seem rather disappointed it’s me,” Gojo joked, voice laced with sarcasm.
“No, never! I just didn’t expect —”
“Expect me to answer?”
“well yes…”
You could barely hear the other line. You knew it wasn’t Ijichi-san, his voice was much higher in pitch. And it wasn’t Suguru, or else Satoru wouldn’t be so tense… nor would he give two fucks if his best friend could hear.
“‘Toru,” you moaned, “who is it?” you softly muttered.
“Shhh, angel,” Gojo soothed, “ keep going just like that,” he guided with his free hand placed at the small of your back to pace your hip movements, “she’s a bit occupied right now.”
“Oh.. I see,” the man on the other line awkwardly responded, “do you know when she’ll be free?”
“Not sure,” your boyfriend hummed, though his voice was calm, his lower portion of his body wasn’t. Because when he felt you intentionally clench on his length, looking back with your face smushed on his pillow — so delicate, so needy — he felt the insufferable knot in the bottom of his stomach start to burn and his balls twitch.
Suddenly thrusting in, making your whole body jolt, shaking at the force of his head bumping against the familiar gushy spot, “Is it something I can help you with?”
“Are you sure? I’m sure you’re a very busy man and all —” Tanaka trailed on stating how grateful he would be, an honor if the Gojo Satoru could help, but it went through one ear and out the other for Satoru.
“Mhm,” he mindlessly responded, “if you present that idea as your last point, giving multiple sources and data to prove it, i don’t find a reason why your boss won’t further finance your project.”
Looking at his phone to see a pdf file sent, quickly scanning over the details, “tidy up the numbers, I think your calculations are off on slide twelve.”
“Thank you, Gojo-san… uhm i-if i could ask one more question —”
“ ‘toru,” you mewled — you shouldn’t, you absolutely shouldn’t but you did knowing he’ll cave. Your boyfriend looked hot seeing him doing his work, talking in verbage that seemed so knowledgeable. And he was readily available — always.
“i wanna see you.”
“Hold up, can I keep you on hold for a brief moment,” Gojo stated, mindlessly pressing the mute button before he heard his response, throwing the phone to the side.
“Oh sure, that’s alright —”
His tongue swiped up from the base of your back as he grasped hold of your cheeks with one hand, pressing you down again into his favorite position. his hot breath seething to your ears as the only sounds aside for you both was the slapping of wet skin hitting eachother.
“Missed me?” he grins when he sees you nodding, “aren’t you a little naughty for distracting me.”
Normally you would scoff at his teasing banters, rolling your eyes as you listened to Satoru try with his questionable choice of words. He still had a childish habit of thinking you both were still young, freshly in your late teens as you both explored your sexual fantasies.
It was laughable, really. A man calculative and deemed honorable to society was nothing but a child that whined for your attention.
And this same man did rather unexplainable things to you. Like leaving you breathless with his love and how he served you as his lover, to the way he fucked you senseless, leaving you babbering and writhing for more.
The wonton groans echoed in the room fuzzies your mind, oftentimes making it hard to expand your lungs to inhale.
“breathe, focus on me,” he guided you — noticing you were struggling, noticing you were awfully close.
The familiar clench of your inner walls wrapping against his cock as he pushed deeper in, his breathing halts for a brief moment while his feet dug into the mattress, his ass clenching with every thrust.
“I’m so so close, ‘toru—‘m gonna….gonna—”
“I know, me too,” he groans while biting your shoulder, letting out a sweet gasp that leaves you shivering in his arms, “just give me a little more, yea?”
“Yes! Yes, more — need m-more!”
“Squeeze a little for me,” he gathers your thighs to create more friction for his cock to pass through your entrance. And immediately you clenched your thighs, knowing just how he liked it.
“just like that, squeezing me so tight,” he murmured while kissing your back.
You know he’s close. It’s in the way his sloppy thrusts, and his pace lacked his usual tempo. The girth of his voice stammering as his thumb firmly pressed against your clit, shoving his hand underneath you to rub circles like it was the most imperative thing for him to do besides holding his high just until he could spill his seeds into your dripping cunt after you reached your high.
“s— ‘toru.” youre close too. He can feel it in the way you call out his name. The way your walls fluttered and your slick made his cock every so easily penetrate inside you.
You were perfect — just like this, with no interference, with no Tanaka san — just you and him connected as one.
Was it naughty? Hell yea, and he loved every second of it.
But was keeping your coworker on hold while he fucked you a good idea? Probably not. You’ll most likely chew his ear off if you ever heard of this.
But, maybe it was the hormones raging inside him talking or he seriously didn’t give two cents about that scrub, but he thinks he heard something muffled through the covers, the culprit being his phone.
Maybe it was the notification for your period tracker? Guess it would be around this time it alerted him.
It could be Ijichi begging for him to respond to his email saying it was urgent — nothing was more urgent than this.
Oh well, whatever it was guess that’ll be future Satoru's problem.
“Please —’m close, ‘toru l-let me hold you,” you whined.
“Kay turn around for me,” quickly lifting himself, just enough so he could angle his cock swiftly in without much effort.
“You okay?” he lets out a chuckle when he sees your messy state — it’s beautiful, makes him want to bother you even more.
“Satoru, i think you literally fucked a baby inside me this time —” instead of finishing your statement, you ended up gasping. Pulling him closer, back arching and eyes rolling as your boyfriend ignorantly drove himself in, bullying your pussy while splitting you in half as the coil in your stomach inevidenatly snaps with his force.
This time? Well… it’s laughable — your innocence.
“Oh sweetheart,” firmly pinning down your hips, pushing down with his chest pressed down upon your breasts, his arms securely caging you in — locking in his prey, licking his lips just ready to devour. It was easy to miss the intent of his words, his voice for a moment tender and sweet contrasted to his cock pistoling mercilessly into your abused cunt, “that’s the point of fucking.”
The familiar pain he felt on his back, mildly stinging from a sweat, felt all too euphoric and sinful, yet his eyes ran to the back of his head in pure bliss.
The tugging of your arms against the ends of his hair, pulling you closer to your body despite the desperate cries requesting that he slow down… he knew you all too well to do anything else but listen to you.
Because just as he predicted, you gasp. Your walls spasm and your body shivers. The heat in your tummy that’s been threatening its release finally fires. With your eyes rolled back, you cum — hard with a warm liquid leaking out of your swollen cunt.
Nothing can send him off the edge more than him watching you reach your high. So when he sees you tensing and murderously clenching on his cock, the heat of your high running down his inner thighs, his bedsheets drenched in fluid, a similar gasp befalls his lips.
His voice cracks while muttering something incomprehensible as his arms tighten their grip around your body, his hips rutting desperately into you.
“Cum for me pretty,” you purred — eyes dazed and tired, yet holding on till the end.
And then he snaps. Hiding his face into the crook of your neck, desperately holding onto you as he pulls in a final thrust, his hot seeds shooting straight inside and his balls coiling inside the sac.
His voice was filled with so much desperation. His moans echoeing, verberating through the halls.
“Shit this pussy does wonders,” he groans with his jaw clenched, “keep it all in, all of it for me,” he rasped before smothering his lips with yours.
Satoru moans while kissing you. Rocking his hips loosely back and forth into you, your mind feeling dizzy — maybe at the thought of his cum being pushed further in, or that he fucked you so full.
He shivered a bit, he always did post-cum. Clinging onto you without any resolve to get down.
“You’re heavy,” giving him a hug while placing soft kisses against his cheeks.
“I’ll get off in a minute,” he whined while placing your hand on his head, “little more like this.”
Giggling as you scratched at his scalp, “can you wash me up —”
“Hello? G-gojo san…” there was a muffle in between his sheets.
What the hell was that? Until you remembered — “Oh my fucking god Satoru!” you panicked, immediately pushing him off you, your partner immediately groaning when his clock slipped out of your warmth. He couldn’t help but take a peak if it’ll spill out — and it did, a shining puddle of his cum slowly pooling in his sheets… drip by drip out of your pretty cunt — god he wanted to stuff it back in.
“Your phone!” you whispered while quickly wrapping yourself with his sheets — as if that’ll undo what he did.
“you left him on hold!”
“It’s your fault,” he groaned as he shifted his body to lie on his back, pulling himself up to lean against the backboard. It creaked a bit. Did he fuck you that hard? Impossible.
“What?” you stupidly looked at him, brows furrowed at his audacity to blame you.
Well if your pussy wasn’t so good, he thought while begrudgingly picking up the phone, maybe he wouldn’t have completely forgotten about the prick that was on the other line.
“hey sorry, bout that,” Satoru grunted while wiping off the excess cum on his dick with a tissue.
He couldn’t remember if he pressed the unmute button, but couldn’t care less if he did.
“T-that’s alright,” the other line sounded off, almost uncomfortable.
“You need anything else?”
“Uhm… no, that’s okay, uh… have a good night, sir.”
Sir? What the fuck was with the honorifics all of a sudden…
“Well you too, good night. And oh, don’t bring coffee anymore, that’s my job.”
— next morning.
“Remind me the next time you decide to fuck me on a work day” the ache in between your legs causing your voice to be laced with venom as you swirled your instant coffee, “that I cut your dick off.”
“But it felt good no?” your partner scoffed through the line, “and aren’t you the one that, I quote, ” sarcastically clearing his voice “‘toru harder! Harder, satoru harder! I’m so full! Cum inside —”
“Gojo satoru,” your voice panning, “yes maam,” your boyfriend immediately straightened after hearing his full name.
“So… i’ll pick you up later tonight —” Satoru tested his waters only to be cut off when he heard a familiar voice on the other line.
“Hello —”
What the fuck.
“Oh! Tanaka-san,” you chirped, “good morning! Coffee?” you offered to make him a cup.
“No thank you…”
“Well, I was waiting for your call last night, how come you didn’t call?”
“Sweets?” Satoru called out successfully getting your attention.
“Oh sorry, one moment.” apologetically smiling to your coworker, “hey baby, call you later! I’m with Tanaka-san! Bye!” you ended the call before hearing your boyfriend’s response.
“Uhm…” your coworker nervously played with his thumbs, “yea… about that… c-can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yes, is everything okay?” you worriedly asked.
“Of course, I —” letting out a frustrated sigh, “I think there was a little misunderstanding.”
“Of?” you questioned, pursing your lips in confusion.
“I… I think your boyfriend —” catching himself with his error, “sorry… Gojo san misconstrued my actions for something else,” the poor man murmured.
“I’m sorry, Tanaka-san, I don’t seem to follow…”
“I called him yesterday while —” stopping himself from continuing with the thought, “and I promise it wasn’t because of what he presumed it to be, and I won’t tell a soul about what happened,” the man continually stammered, his face becoming increasingly pale while anxiously rubbing his hands together, “i..i — i thought it would be nice to get some tips about how to pursue a lady, b-but I think I overstepped my boundaries.”
“You called him?” unsure when they both exchanged numbers — maybe it was when Satoru picked you up a drunken night from a company dinner.
Tanaka-san was kind. He always held these gentle eyes that always seemed to calm anyone’s soul from just being around him. He would shyly pass you a morning coffee while he held another for someone else — Yamada-san, the one he’s been secretly crushing on since the day of her transfer two years ago. The Tanaka-san that would walk two steps behind you just so he could see if his crush dropped anything from her purse — a tendency she can’t quite fix because he’ll always be mindful of her.
You knew of his crush, and you wished to help him all that more.
But right now, his eyes were filled with embarrassment and anxiety as he talked to you — it was unfamiliar and cold.
“Do you want to talk this through over lunch?” you cheerfully invited, trying your best to fill the awkward tension between you both — more so, the guard he had with you.
“No!” flinching as he walked back, “Sorry, I think I should go,” Tanaka-san looked away, gulping as he started to walk in the other direction, “I-I think I’ll get lunch on my own today, sorry.”
“Wait — tanaka-san!” you called out, your surrounding coworkers oddly looking at you while passing by.
“Well that was weird,” you murmured, crossing your arms while leaning against the breakroom wall. You couldn’t say his actions hurt you because you couldn’t understand why he would be so suddenly defensive with you, but it did leave an unshakeable impression that you knew one person would have the answer to.
Confused, you decided it was best to ask the potential culprit himself.
>> So… why did Tanaka-san just apologize to me about you misunderstanding something? Saying that he shouldn’t have called you last night?
<< oh… about that?
>> oh god what did you do?
<< well…
<< i might’ve forgotten to click the mute button :p ….
author's comment: idk what comes over me when i write smut for him. it just fleshes out to long fics when they weren't meant to be this long. But anyways… I hope you all enjoyed as much as i love writing for him!!!!
#ae.writes#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x reader#darkmode.#forbes30!gojo
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Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.
He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.
You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in
the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.
If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.
“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”
You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.
“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”
“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”
And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.
“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”
With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.
“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”
“Helping him with what?”
“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!
Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.
After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.
“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”
“What are you talking about, Choso?”
“H-How you said you’d help me later..”
“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”
You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.
“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“
“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”
The sigh Choso gave out was huge.
“Please…”
That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.
You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.
“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”
Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.
“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”
When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.
You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.
The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”
You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.
“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”
That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.
You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.
“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”
“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”
And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.
NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME
#smut#jujutsu kaisen#choso fanfic#choso fluff#choso smut#choso x f!reader#choso x fem!reader#choso x female reader#choso x reader#choso x you#chosoxreader#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso my beloved#choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x y/n
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★ SUPER SHY
sanji (opla) x fem reader
genre: angst to comfort !!
notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!
you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.
“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.
“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.
finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?
“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.
you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.
is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?
before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.
“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.
the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.
after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.
“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.
soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.
“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.
“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.
once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.
your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .
“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.
“one fresh plate coming up!”
© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
#one piece#one piece x reader#op sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#one piece netflix#opla sanji#op#one piece comfort#one piece angst#sanji comfort#sanji angst#sanjionepiece#sanji#sanji live action#one piece live action#opla
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MC needs some extra love
_______
You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.
Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.
_______
Lucifer:
When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.
He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.
He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.
He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.
You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.
When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.
His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.
_______
Mammon:
Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!
You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.
The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!
He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.
He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.
It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.
Eventually though, he strikes gold!
That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!
From that point on, he knows what to do!
The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!
He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!
Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.
He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.
He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.
The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.
He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!
_______
Levi:
Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.
You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.
Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!
He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!
But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!
So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.
If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.
There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.
When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.
After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!
You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.
_______
Satan:
Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.
Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?
He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.
But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!
You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?
You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.
Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.
You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.
Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.
He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.
In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.
Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.
This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.
It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!
You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.
Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.
(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)
_______
Asmo:
Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.
But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!
Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.
He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.
He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.
Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.
He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.
At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.
He spends a good long while doing that.
He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.
For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!
He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!
… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.
_______
Beel:
Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.
He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.
His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.
He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.
He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.
He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.
When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.
You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?
He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.
The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.
Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.
At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.
So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.
Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.
_______
Belphie:
Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.
It’s straight to baby jail with you!
In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.
He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.
Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.
He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.
Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.
He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.
If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.
He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.
It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.
Belphie knows what he’s doing.
It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.
Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?
You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!
He can fix that, right?
He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.
He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.
Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.
There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.
He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.
If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.
_______
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons#obey me platonic headcanons#obey me found family#obey me & reader#obey me x reader#obey me requests#obey me scenarios#obey me fic#obey me brothers#obey me hurt/comfort#obey me fluff#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#my writing#gender neutral mc#autistic mc#(implied) (because OP is autistic)
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ㅤㅤㅤ— 🎀 cockwarming lawyer!abby 𐚁 18+
ㅤdaily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post
she’s tried so hard to focus on her work. focus mainly and solely on a new case— a case that she has wanted for months, and has finally been given the all go to take it. have at it. make it hers. but she made the mistake of working on it with you at home. she can smell your fruity perfume from here. the perfume she could spend hours smelling on your neck when she’s kissing and biting you there. can practically taste the cherry chapstick on your lips. the same one you’ve always used. she still remembers the first time you kissed and refused to let you change it. you didn’t have work today, so it was your lazy day. lounging around the apartment. catching up on your TV shows. making a new dish you had seen in your cookbook later than evening, if you wished to.
“baby?”
you hummed from the living room— or you said something, she wasn’t really sure. she sure as hell wasn’t paying any attention if you had spoken, abby was more focused on the way you licked your fingers after each strawberry you picked up from the container, and ate it. moaning at the taste. moans that always had her head spinning, no matter what the occasion was.
“can you come here? please?” god was she actually already begging? yes. did she care? apparently not. she just needed to feel you. hold you. hell, even look at you.
unbuttoning her suit jacket like she had suddenly gotten hit with a massive heat wave just from watching you, abby heaved out a quiet sigh, and leaned back in her chair. just in time to spot you walking over to her. smiling mischievously and finishing the last strawberry.
“what’s up?” came your soft voice. fingers threading through her soft blonde hair, nails scratching comfortingly at her scalp. your body melted into her touch when she’s wrapping her arms around your legs, and pulling you into her lap. your lips parting quickly with a gasp when you can feel the strap in her pants, that she always insisted on wearing just in case, against your cunt. “abs—”
“need to feel you” was she drunk? “please. just—” god she was so weak for you. so weak for everything and anything you did that she would do anything for you. “let me feel you” she murmured, her blue— hooded eyes meeting your slightly wide yet sparkling ones and she couldn’t keep her hands in one place when you smiled down at her.
“wouldn’t that be distracting for you, Miss Anderson?” you truly were a tease, weren’t you?
“don’t care, need to feel you” was all she said, lustfully. horny.
her eyes watched you like a hawk. like she always did really. she never wanted to miss anything. first they trailed over the slice of your nose, to the way your lips twitched, almost into a smile at her eagerness of needing you. to your soft eyes that looked at her like she was the only person in the world.
god you were truly such a beauty.
if she had spent any more time looking at your face, she would have missed the way you climbed off her lap, grinned at the way she bites down on her lip when you looped your fingers into the thin material of your panties and pulled them down, still maintaining eye contact. you were aware of how much that drove her crazy. “are you sure this won’t distract you? you could never really focus on anything else when i would sit on your cock, baby” you lifted your shoulders up in a small shrug, biting back a smirk when all abby did was scoff. “okay well, don’t blame me if you get none of your work done”
abby rolled her eyes, and threw her head back slightly. the action had her completely missing you kicking your panties— oblivious to the wet patch on them, to the side, but she didn’t miss the way your fingers fumbled with her belt. the sight was enough to always have her losing all remaining cool. especially when you’d sit on your knees, giggle and wink up at her.
her breath hitched in her throat when you climbed back on her onto her lap. the shirt you were wearing— most probably hers, rolled up just slightly and her hands quickly found home on your thighs, stroking your skin with her thumbs slowly. “just—”
“abigail, if you tell me how to sit on your cock, i will get dressed, go out for dinner alone and leave you here to finish your work” you warned, squinting your eyes down at her.
“right, m’sorry” the blonde nodding, a blush coating the apples of her cheeks at your words. what the fuck was going on? how is she the one that’s shy right now?
those blue eyes flicker to your face when you’re placing one of your hands on her broad shoulders, and for a second abby can’t fucking breathe when she turns her head slightly at the perfect time to find you dribbling a thick glob of spit on the tip of the silicone, giggling under your breath and using your other hand to spread it around. “fuck” her voice suddenly breaking the longer she watched.
her hands were quick to sit higher on your hips, while one of yours gripped her shoulder tightly when you’re running the tip of the silicone through your folds, lips parting with soft gasps, and all abby can do is just fucking stare. watch you rub it back and forth a few times, nudging it against your hole before you chuckle, your eyes flicking up to hers. you were teasing her. you knew how much she loved to see you sinking down on her cock, and you weren’t giving her what she has wanted since she got home.
“sorry, baby. you just look really cute when you’re flustered and impatient” you giggled, placing a kiss right between the crease of her eyebrows, and sinking on her strap slowly. sucking in deep breaths at the stretch.
you were going to be the death of her one day.
your face was hot, forehead already starting to trickle with sweat when she whispered soft ‘it’s okay’ and ‘take your time’ into your ear. her bigger hands ran up and down your thighs, squeezing at your skin gently, and feathered kisses up and down your neck. as much as she needed to just to feel you close, she never rushed you. you were right about one thing though, was she going to be able to focus?
she was going to have to trust her gut and just take one for the team.
you, on the other hand, were not focused at all. not with how she was shifting around in her fucking chair, her hips accidentally jolting upwards and you were biting down on your lip harshly when the silicone slipped deeper, nudging against your walls. the true question was how were you going to sit here, snuggly keeping her cock warm for the remaining time she had on her work without a single piece of attention?
just as she had went to pick up her pen for the 100th time today, abby clenched her jaw tightly at the sudden whines coming from you. you were trying so hard to bury your face in her neck and keep them muffled by her skin, but it was failing miserably. “baby, i know—” she murmured, tightening her arm around your waist. “just want you close. need to feel you. haven’t been this close to you in weeks. and m’sorry—”
you weren’t making this any easier on her, not with the way you were slowly moving around on her lap, and it’s like she can fucking feel you. the point of the pen hasn’t even hit the paper yet and she’s wanting nothing more than to push all her work onto the floor and make you cum as many times as you want. the way her arm was holding onto you had your brain cloudly, already drunk on the heavy feeling of the pine body wash she had used this morning. “abs—” you whimpered, tightening your arms around her neck, slowly rocking your hips back and forth, and letting out quiet gasped breaths with each movement.
the way you said her name had her reeling, brain going into overdrive, and grip tightening on your body. she didn’t understand why she thought this idea would work. having you in her lap, sitting on her cock, looking pretty, and waiting patiently for her to be done, would be the best idea but she just missed you so much. sure, you were in the same home as her, but to her, you felt so far away on that couch and she needed you so close that not even a sheet of paper would fit between you both.
she turns her head and presses a kiss on your cheek, hips bucking up when she’s trying to get a little more comfortable, and she gritted her teeth when you abruptly nipped and bit at her neck, warning her. your fingers still thread through her hair, tugging and pulling at random strands, trying to distract yourself— though that wasn’t helping her, for even 30 minutes give or take. already wanting nothing more than her to be done, or at least give your attention some clit. but she wasn’t even doing that. “abby, please—”
“i promise i will be done soon, and you will have all my attention, okay?” she tried to compromise, key word try— she was trying not to grind her hips up into you, and fuck you like you deserve each time you let out a whimper next to her ear, but she was regretting this entire thing. having your pretty girlfriend warming your cock while trying to work wasn’t ever going to end in a good way until you were done with what you were doing. “i need you here, please— just for a while, and i promise i will give you whatever you want” she pleaded, screwing her eyes shut tightly when you’re shifting around on her lap, the back of the strap rubbing her clit.
her words went in one ear and right out the other. you could barely focus on the way her lips moved, let alone focus on what she was saying. you were only thinking about how deep she was, how perfectly the silicone filled you up. you were soaked, no doubt about it, you were sure you were dripping onto her pants, but if you were, neither you or abby mentioned it.
the pen was moving quickly against the paper, finally gained enough composure to start writing— jesus christ, has it only been a few minutes since she asked you over here? a few minutes that you’ve been snuggly sitting on her cock? god. abby was biting back her smirks and stifling back subtle laughs when you suddenly let a out a high-pitched whine, the hand she had on your waist had moved, and slipped under her shirt and gripped one of your tits in her huge hands. pinching, pulling, and rolling your hardened nipples between her fingers.
“you’re doing so good, baby. just sit here looking all pretty for me for a little longer” she mumbled, slowly grinding her hips up, blue eyes flickering up to your face and found your eyes fluttering closed and sinking your teeth into your lower lip. you were already so far gone that you barely registered the huge grin on her fucking face. “just keep my cock warm, and you can have whatever you want when i’m done filling this report. I’ll fill you up so good tonight for being a good girl, my good girl, okay?” was she taunting you? moving her hips so slowly, grinding up into you just to tease you, warn you of what was coming later when you finally had all her attention?
“m’your good girl” you nodded, pressing your head against her shoulder. drunk and delirious on her. her sweet yet deep and raspy voice. her pine-scented body wash. her hand on your tits, switching between the two so the other wasn’t left out. everything about her, and everything she was doing— fuck, she was only talking to you and lightly touching you, but it was enough to have more slick pooling between your legs and your body melting more into her chest. “m’your good girl” you repeated, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“you are, baby” the blonde hummed, eyebrow quirking up, watching the way you’re slipping your hand down to between your legs, gasping into her neck when your fingers find your clit. whining in protest when abby’s quick to remove her hand from one of your tits just to grab your hand and pin your arm behind your back. “be my good girl, yeah?” she growled, clenching her jaw tightly.
“i need—”
“i know what you need, and i will give it to you when i am finished. don’t make me shove your panties into your mouth to get you to behave, baby. although, i can’t do that, you’d fucking love that too much” she’s scoffing, tutting under her breath, and grinding her teeth together when you’re moving your hips again.
you’re lifting your head from her shoulder when her fingers grip your chin between them lightly, smirking at the sight of your tongue running over your lips, slowly running it over her thumb. and she sucks in a deep breath when you’re wrapping your lips around her thumb, pulling it onto your mouth and sucking greedily. “yeah, there you go, baby” she nodded, jaw slack and eyes wide. “imagine it’s my cock, and let me finish up here then you can get the real thing”
still kinda rusty, idk how to feel about this but i missed lawyer!abby 🤍🎀
#lawyer!abby#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby tlou2#abby the last of us#abby anderson fic
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My Charming Red Savior [2]
・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!
That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.
Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.
“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”
You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"
Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"
You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."
"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."
Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.
You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."
Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."
You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."
Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.
At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.
“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.
You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.
Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.
As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.
“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.
“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”
You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?
As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.
Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?
Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.
Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.
It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.
“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”
Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.
He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.
You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.
His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.
It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?
You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”
The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”
He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.
A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.
Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.
“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”
The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.
“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”
Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.
“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.
You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.
As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.
Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.
You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.
It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.
“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”
The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”
The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.
“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.
“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”
“Do they have a background in fashion?”
“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”
The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.
“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”
The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.
“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”
What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-
“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.
Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?
“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.
“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”
That couldn’t be true, could it?
Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.
“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”
The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”
You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.
“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”
Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”
He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”
As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.
“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.
He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.
“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.
Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.
You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.
Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.
You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.
What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.
Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.
You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.
Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.
Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.
“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.
You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.
“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”
It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.
That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.
“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”
You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?
“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”
Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.
“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.
“You are?” He asked incredulously.
“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”
Hopefully, he would buy your lie.
Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.
You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.
The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.
Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.
“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”
Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?
“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.
Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.
He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.
“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”
He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.
“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.
Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.
“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.
Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”
You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?
You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.
“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”
His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.
Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.
“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.
As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.
He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.
“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”
Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.
Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.
“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”
Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.
Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.
“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?
“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.
He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.
“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.
Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.
You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.
Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing
“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.
“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.
You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.
Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.
While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.
He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.
As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.
“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.
You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.
“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.
“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,
‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’
“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”
Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.
Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.
“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”
You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.
With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.
“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.
“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”
“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”
As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.
“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.
“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”
Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.
Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.
Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.
“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.
“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”
You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.
“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”
You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.
The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.
“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.
‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.
Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?
“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.
The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.
You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”
Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.
“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.
You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”
“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”
A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?
“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”
You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.
“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”
Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.
The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.
It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.
“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”
Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.
What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.
Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.
“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”
“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”
Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.
“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”
‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.
Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.
“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.
You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”
“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”
You shook your head, “no, not really.”
“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”
Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.
The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.
“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”
“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.
Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.
He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.
“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.
You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.
Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.
The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.
You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.
For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.
You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.
It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.
Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.
You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.
“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.
Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.
“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”
“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.
“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”
You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.
“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.
You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.
This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.
“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.
“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”
His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.
“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.
He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.
It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.
Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.
The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.
You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.
It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.
The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.
The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.
The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.
“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”
Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?
Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.
It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.
Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.
There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.
There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.
It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.
“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.
Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.
“Um, hi..?”
I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha
and.. hold up yall…
for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!
Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)
HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3
have a great day, my swans! 🦢
—
taglist:
@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites
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the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
—
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
—
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
—
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
part two!
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles angst#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles concept#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles series
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Pretty privilege… no MC privilege.
Lucifer
MC can boss him around however they wish or desire.
He may have a hard exterior but deep down anything MC suggest or implies he will follow.
MC is have trouble with a certain noble? He’s already talking to Diavolo.
MC likes a certain dish for dinner? He makes it every time it’s his turn to cook.
MC is being bullied by a lower demon? That demon is never to be seen from again.
There is never a second thought when to comes to provide a happy MC.
He will spend the rest of his life devoted to MC and ensuring they are never unhappy for a second.
If anyone dare to cross the line, there will be no god or being for them to pray to.
Mammon
MC is able to pull him away from anything he might be doing.
As MC first man he will never be too busy.
You want to rant to him while he’s in the shower? He’s pulling his head out the curtain to show his listening.
You want him to open a pickle jar for you while he’s on the run from Lucifer? He’s the fastest brother for a reason.
You’re being overwhelmed at RAD? Hes making sure you get escorted home immediately, no matter the consequences for ditching.
He made a promise to you and himself that he will show you his worthy of calling himself your first man.
There is no force that can stop him proving himself, to show that his isn’t a scummy demon or a loser but your protector. Protecting your heart day by day.
Leviathan
MC can depend on him no Matter what.
He is not the most dependable brother, but that’s to be noted he knows he’s brother can handle themselves.
But even knowing MC is more then capable, he still find himself helping them out of sticky situations.
He’s your one and true friend remember?
MC missed a sale because they overslept? He stood up all night tp buy you 10 copies.
MC needs a 80% on a test to be able to go out on the weekend? He’ll hacking into the system and up your grade 100%.
MC is in a trouble for sneaking out? MC was with him all night.
He finds the need to show that he can be of use.
No matter how bad a situation may be he will take MC side.
He will show everyone that he is the greatest friend to his dear Henry.
A/n: i just got my nails done and it’s a pain to type without messing up. 😥
Pt 2 is up now!!!!!!!
Part 3 is up!!!!!!
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me fluff#leviathan obey me#obey me shall we date#lucifer obey me#mammon obey me#obey me mc#mammon avatar of greed#lucifer avatar of pride#leviathan avatar of envy#mammoney#obey me lucifer#obey me levi headcanons#obey me mammon#meyobe
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Texture
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Masterlist
Word Count: 1,635
Summary: You being obsessed with Bucky and watching him every day during meetings, lingering around too long when you see him, all because of a dumb tiktok you saw late one night.
Warnings: 18+, f!masturbation, oral m!receiving, worshipping the man that is Bucky Barnes.
A/N: i saw this on tiktok and couldn’t help myself, imagine what’s your fantasy by Ludacris, ‘I wanna lick you from your head to your toes’
It was late and you had work in the morning. You shouldn’t be mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, your eyes were starting to burn from the leds that lit up your face. You told yourself five more minutes, that ended up turning into forty five. With one last swipe of your thumb your eyes read the words on the screen.
“You can look at any object and your tongue already knows what it would feel like to lick it”
Your brain starts rapid firing. You look around the objects in your dark room. For the most part it was true. You could feel the cool clay surface of the lamp on your bedside table, the rubber nubs on your tv remote.
You shut your phone off, laying it facedown underneath your pillow. You move to lay on your back and when your eyes close you see black vibranium. The words dance in the back of your mind. You weren’t shy on the fact you had a crush on the super soldier, but you never thought about him this way.
The thought of running your tongue down his neck, you could feel his stubble tickling you. You felt a chill run over you and your nipples hardened. You could almost taste the sweat if you thought about it hard enough.
You run your hand across your stomach, slipping your fingers in your underwear. You fantasized about every part of Bucky you could lick. But you could only picture one, his bionic arm.
Sure you’d thought about him pressing you up against a wall with it, holding you down, squeezing you tight enough to leave bruises. But you’d never touched yourself at the thought of cold metal running over your tongue.
You use your left hand to finger fuck yourself, giving it a taste test. When your fingers entered your mouth you imagined Bucky, spreading your pussy open then shoving his fingers down your throat. You push your fingers harder on your tongue, holding your jaw tightly, it helped when you closed your eyes and imagined it was metal. You came fast, not being able to stop your right hand from stimulating yourself.
You run to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and cleaning yourself up. You don’t know what came over you, you got desperate, doing anything to make it feel real. You look at yourself in the mirror, you can’t meet your own eye, instead you focus on the tiny bruise forming under your chin, in the shape of your thumb.
You wake up early the next morning, needing to apply more makeup than usual to hide your late night activity. You found yourself staring at Bucky during the morning debrief, taking in every detail of his face, neck and hair. The man dressed like a swat team member at all times, revealing nothing. He gloved his hands, even here, where everyone knows and accepts him.
You found him in the kitchen later that day, glove free. He was setting a mug down in the sink, when you walked in. “Hey.” You say, not wanting to make things awkward. “Hi.” He says, in a customer service kind of way. Like he’s only saying it to be cordial. You open the fridge and fish out your lunch that you brought, a chicken salad, it was your go to for an effortless lunch.
You make yourself comfortable at the counter, chomping away at the lettuce that filled the plastic container. You watched him as he washed the dishes remaining in the sink. You smile to yourself, he’s such a gentleman.
You tentatively watch as his vibranium hand holds on to the dishes. It’s fluid, no robotic tics in his fingers. You know your eyes were locked on him for too long when he clears his throat. “You taking notes on how to wash dishes?” He says, meticulously drying off the gleaming metal.
“Sorry.” You say, averting your gaze from him. You stare at the slices of grilled chicken, not feeling hungry anymore. You got caught red handed.
“That wasn’t an answer.” He says, laying the hand towel on the counter, putting his hands on his hips. “I saw you this morning too.”.
Your breath hitches, he doesn’t know about last night, he couldn’t, you needed to relax yourself and try to lie your way out of this. “I wasn’t staring at you, I’ve just been zoned out a lot lately.” You hope that works.
Bucky nods his head, “That makes sense, or at least it would, if I couldn’t sense how tense you are. That’s the opposite of zoned out. I heard your heart beating faster when I turned around. You’re in the moment, not your head.” He reads you like a book.
You don’t know what to say, do you spill every detail or do you just admit to your school girl crush. You meet his eyes “I just think you’re cute Bucky. Is that a crime?” You laugh, you couldn’t feel your face since all of the blood rushed to it. You close your salad, placing it back into the fridge. “You caught me.” You raise up your hands defensively.
Bucky doesn’t react, almost as if he doesn’t believe you. Even though you didn’t lie, you get nervous, like he was about to catch you up.
“Is that so?” He says leaning against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. You watch as the metal plates slide into place.
“Mhm.” You can’t even form a sentence as you watch the veins in his other hand strain. Your tongue moves against the roof of your mouth as you imagine the metal shoved in there. You’re close enough to see the details, micro bolts, chips and scratches in the black finish. You can feel it all with the tip of your tongue.
Bucky breaks you from your trance. “I can smell you, y’a know?” Your eyebrows furrow, you thought you used the right amount of perfume this morning.
He steps closer to you, using his body to press you against the steel refrigerator. “Why would your pussy be so wet, if it’s just an innocent little crush?”. You can’t get out of this, so why not go for it.
“I was looking at your hands, since they’re the only part of you’re not covered in black polyester.” You give him a smug look. “Watching my hands made you this wet?” He slips his flesh hand into your panties, curling them at your entrance. You nod, building up the courage to grab his hand, sucking on the metal fingertips. It’s different than what you imagined, warmer.
Bucky closes his eyes as he pictures his cock in your mouth instead of his fingers. “I was imagining what you taste like,” you lean forward and lick a strip up his neck, it’s exactly how you imagined. “, what it felt like to run my tongue all over your body.” You say, surprised by your own confidence.
He pushed his fingers inside of you, liking the dirty words spilling from you. You moan, reaching out to grasp his black vest. “Let me touch you.” You say, pulling his hand from your pants. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen.
You’re thrown on his bed before you know it, he climbs on top of you, going in for a kiss. You turn your head, not letting his lips meet yours. “Let me.” You wiggle out from under him, standing up.
He sits in the middle of the bed, his feet dangling off the side. You drop to your knees and begin to untie his boots. He gives you a confused look when your remove them and move up his legs to his belt, unhooking it and removing the button on his black cargo pants.
You look him in the eyes as you pull down the zipper. You remove his pants swiftly, moving to push his vest off, you have to get up on the bed, straddling his bare legs. He looks up at you, amazed by you taking the lead. You peel off his black t shirt and he’s left in his socks and boxers.
You move back off the bed, admiring him splayed out. “You’re so perfect.” You say, running your hands up his thighs. You lean down to kiss each of his knees.
You keep your eyes locked on his face as you kiss up his thighs, ghosting over the large bulge in his boxers. He takes a shallow breath when you kiss his hips. Like he’d never experienced it before. “So beautiful.” You say, licking the happy trail growing up his stomach.
Bucky’s been getting a vantage point of view from resting on his elbows. You put an end to that by pushing him down, making him face the ceiling. You press your lips to both of his biceps, hovering over him when you finish.
“Can I kiss you now?” You say, satisfied with making your way up his body. He nods, keeping his hands to his sides while you devour his mouth, biting his lip and sucking on his tongue.
“I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay?” You ask before you get back on your knees. Bucky gets back on his elbows, not wanting to miss the show.
You free him from his tight boxers, letting him spring up towards your face. You take a moment to take a mental image of him, laid out so vulnerable. “Thank you, tiktok.” You whisper to yourself, grateful that a video effected you like it did, or else you wouldn’t be here right now, trying not to choke as you force every inch of him into your mouth. You wanted him to be proud and satisfied, even if it meant a sore throat.
#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#avengers#fanfic#bucky barnes x y/n#mcu#bucky x y/n#fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader smut
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JJK Men x Foreign Reader
Gojo Saturo, Toji Fushiguro, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto x gn reader
For the most part, you and your bf live everyday life through his culture. So how would he react if he sees a glimpse of yours?
You two were doing origami together, you were making a cute swan and he was making you a flower. It was such a cute moment the two of you laughing and him occasionally giving you a few quick pecks on your face and then you get a phone call.
You look at the number "Oh it's my mom." you say smiling at your phone.
Gojo smiles "Oh it's my future mother-in-law! Go ahead and answer I'll be patient." he says giving you a smirk.
You blush and answer the call. Gojo listens to you as you say hello in your native language. You two only speak to each other in Japanese so hearing you speak your first language is so rare.
He rests his chin in his palm still listening as you continue to speak. You sound so beautiful. You look beautiful. The way you talk with your mother in her first tongue makes him melt, your voice has a different ring to it due to the different pitches. And that Accent! OMG he's fanboying now.
After the phone call ends you turn to see him looking at you in awe. "What?" you ask giggling.
He smiles "You should speak in (n/l) more often. I think you sound hot as hell." he says enjoying your reaction to that.
Your face grows red. Really? No one has ever told you that and hearing that from him made you appreciate him more because it shows that he loves you for you.
You smile at him and he kisses your cheek again and gives you a paper rose. Then in your language he said "I love you".
You were laying on the couch just staring into space. It's officially been five years since you've moved to Japan. When you were younger you're dream has always been to move to Japan and you did it. You moved to Japan, grew to live comfortably, made some friends and even met your boyfriend.
However just like everyone else who moves away, you get homesick. You think back to when you were a kid and lived with your family back at home. It seemed so long ago and then you think about the yummy food you and your family would make. You smiled softly to yourself thinking about the nostalgia.
You get up from the couch and go to the kitchen. You checked to see if you had all the ingredients you needed for your favorite dish your grandmother made for as a kid. You do, so you hurried to get started on making (f/d).
As you cooked you realized something was missing. You think about how when your grandmother used to cook she would tell you to turn on her music. You laugh softly "Aww grandma. Even now you still manage to make me play your music." you say to yourself and start playing some, with memories flowing back.
Soon after a tiring day Nanami comes back home, he sighs and takes off his coat. He hears some music coming from the kitchen but then he freezes when he realizes he can't understand it. Then he smells something good, he doesn't know what it is but he'd like to see what it is.
He heads to the kitchen and finds you there. Thats what the smell is, its you're cooking. "Y/n." you turn around to see him. He looked a bit confused, and you smiled. "Hey lover, I'm making (f/d). It's a dish my family back at home eat. Do you want to help?"
Nanami stands there for a moment, he's never tried some of the traditional food from your country or ever heard of the music, buts it's all you. All of it is your blood and honestly, he's loving this side of you. He smiles softly at, "Sure love." he says and pulls his sleeves up so he can help you.
He's walking to meet up with you. He's not paying attention to much but then he sees you from his peripheral vision. He stops and turn to look at you and you look, wow.
You stand out from the rest, you really do. He's proof lol every time someone see's you they can't help but to admire you. Geto stood there looking at you smirking.
You're (h/t) (h/c) hair is beautiful and your (s/c) skin looks so soft and delicate. You were talking to two other women who were actually asking about you and where you're from. They seemed genuinely interested and curious about your culture. The way you spoke Japanese in the cutest accent made Geto let out a chuckle. It was just too cute.
It's funny because it's obvious that you're not from around here and yet you have such a way of making the people here adore you. They complement your eyes, your voice, or your hair. If he had to pick his favorite would be your eyes. Such a beautiful color and shape. Damn, you're gorgeous he thinks to himself.
You turn to see Geto is already here. With an excited smile you say your goodbyes to the two women and head to him. "Hi my love!" you yell as you run towards him.
He smiles "Hey gorgeous" he says with wide arms for you. Yes, that's right this beautiful foreigner is his partner. You jump into his arms, and he picks you up. And this is exactly how he thinks about you every day.
The first time Toji saw you he was infatuated with you. Even he had to admit you look so beautiful and from there he didn't care. He was gonna make you his.
And he did lol.
He was sitting on the couch on his phone. Endless scrolling of nothing interesting and he started to get bored. He was about to get up but then you enter the living room wearing something he was unfamiliar with.
With a blush on your face you ask, "What do you think love?". He honestly had no idea what you were wearing but it looked cute on you.
"What is it my love?" he asks leaning forward on the couch. You tell him the name and explain to him that it's what the people in your culture wear when there's a certain occasion.
Toji smirks "Do a turn for me beautiful." he orders. Shyly, you obey and do a spin for him. You can't help but giggle when you look at his face. You can tell he approves.
He chuckles "I think it looks beautiful on you" he states. He gets up "But you know..." he makes his way over to you. You start getting uptight, you love his dominance, but you have to admit it's kind of intimidating. Soon he's towering over you. He leans down to your ear "I think it'd look better on the ground by our bed." You shiver and let him pick you up and carry you to the bedroom.
So yeah, he loves you so much and loves learning about your home and its culture.
And bruh, how did they all already know what the word for Daddy was in your language?!
#gojo saturo x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#nanami x you#toji x reader#toji x you#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#toji jjk#nanami kento#geto x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader
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silent treatment
words: 900
warnings: drug dealer rafe, established relationship, arguing but its very fluffy throughout and never actually serious
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl
“rafey, are you almost done?” you ask, causing him to turn his head to look at you for the first time since you both entered the party and parted ways for rafe to do business.
“come here, baby.” rafe beckons you closer, so you cross the line of people waiting and take a seat on the couch next to rafe. “what's wrong?”
“nothing's wrong, i just miss you.” you pout, lacing your fingers through rafes. “i know you're selling right now but i thought we would be able to hang out tonight.”
rafe looks at the line of people waiting, then down at his stash. “im almost sold out, yeah? think you can wait ten more minutes?”
“can i sit here?” you ask, and when rafe nods you curl up against his side. he has to shake your hand loose as the next person walks up, buying some drugs that rafe would never in his life let you touch, but had no problem selling to other people.
you busy yourself with playing with a loose strand on rafes shorts as the packets in front of him dwindle down to only one small baggie of white powder left. rafe pockets it, shooing the rest of the people waiting away, telling them to come find him at the next party.
just when rafe finishes counting the money and you expect to get up and actually enjoy the party with your boyfriend, barry takes a seat on the armchair across from you.
“how was tonight?” he asks.
“sold it all, kept a baggie for myself.” rafe splits the money and hands most of it to barry for getting him the supply, pocketing the rest for himself.
“im getting a new shipment in tuesday-” you stop listening as they start to talk business again, linking your hand with rafes and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. you begin to stroke his arm with your other hand, craving any sort of attention from him.
“baby, stop, you're distracting me.” rafe says, pulling his hand out of your grip.
“sorry.” you whisper, looking between barry and rafe, wondering how much longer they're going to take.
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask, knowing rafe doesn't care about others seeing your pda so he shouldn't mind, he's let you sit on his lap in the past, he's even pulled you onto it himself.
rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead before sitting back, pulling you onto his knee so you're purched on the edge.
you groan, knowing that this isn't what you asked for as you turn to frown at rafe.
“baby, why are you being so clingy tonight?” rafe asks, pulling you by your waist into him so your side is pressed against his chest.
“im not.” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
“yeah, you definitely are. won't even let me talk to barry for ten minutes without getting all whiney.” rafe says, a small smile on his face, but it doesn't placate you, it just annoys you.
you stand up, moving away from rafe and leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wants with barry.
--
“baby, you didn't talk to me all night, please don't give me the silent treatment again today too.” rafe says, attempting to press a kiss to your shoulder, but you just move away to continue making pancakes. rafe keeps his eyes on you as you move about the kitchen.
you plate your pancakes, leaving the rest for rafe to get himself if he wants them and walk into the dining room. you're glad for the music you put on to drown out the silence at rafe sits across the table with his own plate.
you eat without looking up at him, somehow able to keep yourself quiet.
“so you're giving me the silent treatment but still made enough pancakes for me?” rafe asks.
you simply shrug, getting up to finish your pancakes in the kitchen.
“here, let me do the dishes.” rafe comes barging into the kitchen, interrupting you from beginning to clean. you simply shrug and walk away, not even giving him a thank you. you listen to him start to clean up, snickering silently at his grumblings to himself before heading upstairs to get changed.
“what are your plans for today?” rafe asks when you reemerge downstairs, wearing a simple outfit of leggings and a t-shirt. you give rafe a pointed look, one to reinforce the fact that you are not speaking to him before walking away.
rafe leaves you alone for a few hours when he is in the home gym working out. you peak through the glass doors a few times to admire his sweat sheened muscles, but don't let him catch you and go back to scrolling on your phone on the couch when he starts to clean up.
“im gonna go shower.” rafe calls as he passes through the living room. “care to join me?”
“no.” you call back.
you hear rafe stop in his tracks, halting and turning back to face you. “you just talked to me.”
“that doesn't cou-AHHH!” you shout as rafe jumps over the couch, dropping his body over yours as he presses kisses to your face, your phone long forgotten as it falls to the floor.
“im still mad at you, fuck off.” you say, but giggle the entire time, unable to resist his kisses.
“baby, you can tell me to fuck off or that you're mad all you want, just never ever give me the silent treatment again, i was going crazy.” rafe presses your lips together in a kiss and you give in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“it sounds like you're the clingy one now.” you grin at him.
“absolutely.” rafe nods in agreement.
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron one shot#rafe fluff#rafe cameron fluffy
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