#so it’s extra special when that comment comes through
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching
dbf!Joel x f!reader
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist
“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”
“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.
“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”
Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”
“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”
“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”
“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”
“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.
Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.
“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.
“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”
Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”
Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.
Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?
Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.
A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.
“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.
“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”
A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”
Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.
Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.
“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.
“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.
“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.
“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”
His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.
You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.
“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.
A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.
Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.
Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.
“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”
My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?
The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.
“I love you, Joel.”
You loved him.
What did he ever do to deserve something like that?
Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.
He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.
I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.
I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.
I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.
I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.
Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.
“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”
Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.
Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.
His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.
“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”
He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.
Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.
The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.
He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.
His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.
“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.
“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.
Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.
With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”
Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.
His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.
Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.
“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.
It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”
Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.
“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”
Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.
“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.
“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”
The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.
He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.
Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.
Oh shit.
You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.
“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”
You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.
“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”
You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”
Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”
Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”
Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”
Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”
The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.
“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.
“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”
Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.
“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”
Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”
tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx
@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#the last of us#tlou#dbf!joel#Fall Into Me#pedro pascal#eventual smut#mutual pining#idiots in love
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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 9)
A thousand apologies my dearest does and bucks
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This took much longer than anticipated; I hit a bit of a wall, and time escaped from me. But we're here! We trekkin' on! The story continues
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.... And we're actually splitting this into 3 rather than 2 because over 6k later and we're still not done yet so ahaha! Whoopsies~
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｡°⚠︎°｡ Final note. This is a WARNING that this chapter includes mention of VIOLENCE, GORE, and SEXUAL ASSAULT so please read with caution if this is a trigger for you!! ｡°⚠︎°｡
Thank you all for your love and support, honestly ꨄ I've been feeling down lately and re-reading comments has really helped to boost my spirits and push me to keep going! I love y'all dearly
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OK! Without further ado~
SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader.
You venture off on your own to grab Alastor's gift, unaware of the dangers to follow...
Word Count: 6.2k
Chapter under the cut!
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Your feet pounded on the pavement below you and you jogged towards the coffee stall. Your eyes were sharp and alert and your grip on Alastor’s microphone tight. You knew you had to be quick and extra careful now being on your own. But surprisingly enough, you weren’t afraid. Your blood was pumping with adrenaline, and with Alastor’s staff, you felt more powerful than you ever had in your entire life. It was exhilarating, to say the least.
Dodging in between sinners and recognizing landmarks, you were able to find the vendor in question without any problems. You breathed a sigh of relief, coming to a stop in front of the display table and taking a moment to catch your breath. A large, older imp with a white goatee raised an eyebrow at you questioningly from behind the counter. Finally, you stand up straight and give him a quick smile before your eyes flickered over everything he had to offer.
As much as you enjoyed some of the quirky mugs on display, you knew in your heart what you really wanted. The problem is, you only knew the bare basics about coffee; you had no idea what made a good machine or not. You glanced around at all of the modern tech and felt your shoulders sag. Alastor would hate all of these; you needed something from his time; something more classical.
“Somethin’ ya looking fer in pa’ticular dollface?”
You lifted your head to the imp across from you. He was leaning against the table with his other hand on his hip, his eyes tired and dull. You gave him a sheepish grin, clearing your throat quickly.
“Ah, yes please…” you start, “This might sound weird. I’m looking for something from the 30’s that helps to brew coffee.” a thought crossed your mind, and you could feel yourself beginning to sweat, “I… uh. Actually. I don’t even know what they used back then… A kettle? Or some sort of special press…?” Your eyes drifted down awkwardly. Satan’s Ass, you have no idea what the Hell you’re looking for. This guy’s gonna think you’re an idiot.
To your relief the imp said nothing, but you could tell he was judging you hard. He looked you up and down before simply shrugging off the table and turning on the spot. He began to shuffle through the shelving unit behind him, tea kettles and mugs clattering as he searched. The imp spoke to you over his shoulder.
“Ehhh, I don’ know girlie. I know I had somethin’ a while ago, but might’ve been snatched already.” he shuffled some more, “Antiques like dat are hard ta find, n’ when ya do, dey sell pretty quickly. Humans n’ nostalgia n’ all ‘at.”
You could feel your fingers fidgeting nervously; you really hoped you didn’t just risk your safety for nothing. The excitement from earlier was beginning to fizzle out with the thought of not being successful. Maybe you could get him a nice mug instead? Or maybe one of those cute, little stirring spoons…
“Well I’ll be blessed th’n damned again…”
You looked up to the seller to see him turn around, a crooked smile on his face as he held what looked like two glass pots connected like an hour-glass. Your eyes widened in amazement at the strange looking contraption.
“Called a ‘Silex Vacuum Siphon’. D’know what year it’s from, but ya ain't gonna find something more vintage den dis, I can guarantee.”
You tucked Alastor’s mike under your arm as you carefully took the glass contraption in your hands. It was definitely used, and could use a good cleaning. But there were no cracks or chips to be seen, no major damage that could affect its ability to brew. Given it was nearly a century old, it was in fairly good condition.
“It’s perfect.” you breathed, thumb grazing over the glass tenderly as your heart pittered excitedly. Alastor would absolutely love this, you just knew it. You had to get it for him, it was like it was destiny. Your head whipped up to the seller.
“How much?”
Said imp looked you up and down for a moment before his eyes landed near your arm. A sly smile crept up his mouth as his pupils flicked back up to your face.
“How ‘bout that fancy lookin’ cane o’ yours?”
Immediately you placed the siphon back down and clutched the microphone close to your chest, shooting daggers at the creature in front of you. “Absolutely not.”
To your relief, the imp just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “Eh. Was woith a shot.” he chuckled, helping your tense shoulders to slowly relax. His eyes darted between you and the siphon, clearly deep in thought before crossing his arms.
“400”
You felt your breath catch in your throat. For fuck sakes, you figured it would be expensive, but this was highway robbery. And you knew very well that he knew that too; he was totally upping the price knowing how desperate you are. And as much as you needed it, you didn’t have enough on you. A thought crossed your mind, something you had observed when you explored the market. With as much confidence as you could muster, you laid your hands flat on the table and leaned in, giving him a very serious look.
“200”
The imp’s smile creaked up to his ears. “375”
You had to stop yourself from smiling and breaking the facade. It was working. Thank God, he seemed like the type who enjoyed a little haggling. If you could just get him down a little more, maybe you could actually pull this off.
“250”
“350”
“300” You finally declare, before quickly adding, “And! you wrap it up nicely for me.” you stare him down, leaning back up and crossing your arms in front of you. “That’s my final offer.”
The background noise of the market droned on as you both glared at each other across the booth. Eventually, the imp’s lips curled up devilishly before giving a sigh and shaking his head.
“Ya drive a hard bargain toots. Deal.” He cocked an eyebrow and reached a clawed hand out. You shook his hand coolly, but it was so hard to contain the excitement bouncing around in your chest. There was something exhilarating about negotiating prices; you could see why some demons got such a high off of coming to markets like these. Of course, this purchase was still going to drain you of all your cash, but it was well worth it.
While he got to work bubble wrapping the siphon, you basically dumped your purse out and gave him every cent you had. He made sure to cushion the glass carefully and even found an empty box to place it in for double security. You honestly didn’t know how this interaction would've gone; you were initially worried he would’ve robbed you blind or threatened you. But as he handed you the bag with the goods and gave a final nod, you were beyond relieved to find that he actually seemed to be a decent guy. Maybe this market wasn’t completely full of thieves and swindlers like you had thought.
You were practically skipping down the alley, one hand tight around Alastor’s microphone and the other holding your precious gift (but careful not to swing it around too much). You couldn’t wait to give this to him. You could feel your whole body tingling with anticipation. You really hoped that it did make a good cup of coffee; it would be a shame if it didn’t. Even so, it was such a funky looking thing, at the very least it could make for a cool decoration and hopefully bring back fond memories… You wondered how much of a difference there was between drinking coffee from a coffee machine or a siphon. You’d have to brew a pot with him tomorrow morning and-!
Your daydreaming was instantly snatched away as you were quickly dragged into the darkness of the ally beside you.
You went to scream but a large paw had clamped around your mouth before you could utter a sound. The bag slipped from your grasp and fell to the ground with a clatter, but thankfully you kept your grip on the staff tight. You immediately went to swing your arms, but both your wrists were grabbed, looking like mere toothpicks in the claws of the Hell Hounds that pulled you in. You kicked your feet up in protest as your yells were muffled, but you were no match for the sheer strength these creatures had as they dragged you further into the darkness and away from the crowds. They hauled you backwards until you felt your heels no longer dragged, indicating you had stopped, but you were barely aware of your surroundings. You continue to thrash your shoulders around and kick your feet up, desperately trying to escape like a caged wild animal.
“Now now, there’s no reason to cause such a ruckus.”
Your eyes flash open and whip to the deep voice ahead of you. Your eyes fall onto a large silhouette leaning against the wall to your right, the brightness of the market ahead of you shading your captor’s full appearance. But as he pushed off and stepped closer, your eyes adjusted and were finally able to take in the finer details. Dripped in a rugged leather jacket and ripped jeans, the wolf looking Hell Hound sauntered towards you. His grin was fierce, and neon-yellow eyes practically glowed in the darkness. You could feel your mouth go dry and your legs turn to jelly.
Your initial frenzied shock subsiding, you took a moment to look up at your two captors holding you back, One seemed to be a tall, muscular Mastiff with a slobbery snarl, his paws holding your right wrist and shoulder. The other was a Doberman type with cropped ears and sharp eyes, gripping tightly to your mouth and other wrist. You mumble out a pathetic plea and shimmy your shoulders again, trying to get their attention and hope that they take pity, but they pay you no mind, focusing instead on their alpha.
“Don’t even bother chickie,” the silver dog snarked, making you turn your attention back to him, “We Hounds are very loyal to our pack; they’ll only listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed into angry slits, shooting daggers at the alpha. He merely snickered in reply.
“You’re probably wondering who we are,” he mused, putting his hands behind his back and calmly pacing in front of you. “Wondering what we want, why you’re here, ‘yadda yadda ya…” the dog babbled, making a yapping motion with his claws. He turned to you and gave you a cocky grin. “You should know that we don’t usually do this kind of thing… we’re actually nice guys once you get to know us!”
The two dogs behind you chuckle darkly, not at all making you feel reassured.
“We’re nothing but humble thieves,” the wolf continued, sauntering back over to you, “Steal enough to make a humble living. Only take what we need. Provide for the pack. Today was supposed to be like any other…”
The alpha’s yellow eyes suddenly grew dull, his smug smile slowly falling to a sneer as he stopped in front of you. The look on his face made a nervous shudder crawl down your spine.
“... Until that ugly ass, bob-cut bastard stepped in.”
Bob-cut…? What in the Hell is he-
“Tyrion was so sneaky about it too, I was sure the wallet was as good as ours.” the wolf continued, his voice a mix of sorrow and venom. “But then that red-clad fucker saw him and…” you noticed his paws clench into tight fists, his eyes narrowing angrily.
Red-clad… Oh god… could he mean?
“I saw it with my own eyes. That mad-man butchered him like a pig. Didn’t even give him a chance to apologize or make amends.” His nose was scrunched up in rage before it softened, his eyes holding the tiniest bit of horror, “But I think what was the most haunting was the way that creep smiled the entire time. Almost as if he was enjoying it.”
… God fucking damnit Alastor.
“You seemed like such an easy target too.” the alpha’s neon eyes flicked up to you. “We didn’t realize what kind of monster you had on a leash.”
You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you recalled that wild look in Alastor's eyes earlier, the way his smile seemed sharper... Damnit, you felt so stupid now. How did you not notice? Dear God, how many others had died today by Alastor’s hands? It was clear that this ‘Tyrian’ was trying to steal from you, but did that really warrant death? You felt a twinge of guilt settling in your stomach.
“So when my boy’s noticed you gallivanting on your own, I couldn’t believe our luck.” the wolf chuckled, leaning in closer until you were face to face, “You seriously made our job so much easier.”
Your cast-down gaze immediately scrunched into one of distrust, feeling your body become on-edge as you focused back on your captor. The wolf smirked at your helplessness, eyeing you up and down before his gaze fell to your left hand. His eyebrows shot up in interest.
“And look at this!” He taunted, leaning back up and reaching for Alastor’s staff, “You even brought us an apology gift! What a nice little girl~”
Your eyes widened in horror, trying to jerk your hand away from the wolf’s grasp. But the Doberman held your wrist tight, making it near impossible for you to do anything as the alpha grabbed hold of the microphone and ripped it from your grasp. You let out a whimper of despair as it left your hand, to which the silver dog’s ears perked, and turned to give you a hungry look.
“Hmmm, what a pretty sound. Almost makes me want to hear it again~”
You could feel your blood boiling at his words, and in a fit of rage, you kick your feet up aggressively. To your dismay, the leader jumped out of the way in time, a joyous laugh escaping his muzzle as he hopped to the side. The two dogs holding you immediately tightened their grip on you, pulling you back and holding you more securely. You huffed through your nose like an angry bull, shooting the wolf a venomous glare as he howled and dusted off his jacket.
“Wooh! And feisty too. Gotta admit, that just turns me on more~” he grinned, showcasing his sharp fangs and blackened gums. His pupils flicked between his friends, “Do me a favor boys, secure those legs of hers so she doesn’t do that again.”
Almost immediately, the two henchmen each step on your feet with their large paws, pinning your feet underneath theirs. You try to lift your legs up and away to test your mobility, but sure enough, your feet were locked in place. Panic started to settle now realizing just how much trouble you were in, and instinctively, you jut your shoulders out aggressively to try and once again escape. The wolf snickered at your struggles, slowly moving closer to you.
“Now originally, we were just going to kill you and leave it at that.” the alpha hummed, eyes slowly grazing your body, “But hey, why stop there? Why waste a perfectly good meal without getting the chance to have a bite~”
Faster than lightning, his free paw came up and slashed at your chest, making you cry out in pure agony underneath the Doberman's paw. White specs blotted your sight as your mind froze in shock. You didn’t have to look to know; you could feel what he had done. Your body felt both cold and hot, from where your dress was torn and your body exposed to the air, and from where you could feel your blood begin to soak into what remained of your dress. You tried so hard to not make too many noises after the wolf's disgusting words, but the way your skin was burning, it was hard not to. Your eyes were beginning to water as you focused your attention back on the leader. Guilt be damned, you didn’t feel a thing for these bastards anymore. You wanted to make them hurt the way they hurt you.
Outrage helped you find the strength to thrash around again, desperately trying to free your limbs so you could land a punch, a kick, anything. The Hell Hound took a step back to avoid your violent thrashing, chuckling at your display and licking his lips.
“Calm down now Sheila, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. It will be over before you know it…” He began his advance again, and you could feel your skin begin to prickle with panic. You continue your thrashing, lifting your legs and pulling at your arms, hoping that something would give way before it was too late.
And by the grace of God above, you felt your left shoe loosen under the paw of the Doberman.
An opportunity.
You spring into action, giving your left knee one final thrust upwards, making your foot pop out of your shoe and free from its confinement. Without even thinking, you slam it down hard into the Doberman’s bottom foot, making sure to dig your heel in deep. The skinny dog howled in agony, his grip on your arm and mouth loosened, giving you the chance you needed to act. As he bends over to grab at his tender paw, you bring your left arm across your chest and swiftly ram your elbow right into his muzzle. The force, along with his now injured foot, is enough to send him toppling over and slamming onto the ground, clutching his now bloodied nose.
Not wasting a precious second, you take the momentum from your left elbow and swing it over to your right, turning your body and socking the Mastif right in the face. He too yelps in pain, letting go of your right arm and freeing your other foot. As he steps back, distracted by the punch you landed, you grab him by the shoulders and lunge your left knee square into his groin. The Hell Hound let out a pathetic squeak as he immediately crumpled to the ground, curling into fetal position as he cradled his tenders.
Two down. One to go.
“Oh you BITCH!”
Right as you turn to face the wolf, his arm was already raised and ready to strike, swiftly bringing it down and backhanding your cheek. You cry out in pain, the sheer strength knocking you off your feet and making you fall harshly on your backside, cracking your head on the pavement. Your bun had come undone, your hair curtaining your glassy gaze as you watched the alpha throw the microphone to the side and stomp towards you. Too dazed by the blow, you felt him come down on you and straddle your hips, bringing his paws down over your throat.
“You think you’re tough shit girlie?” he snarled, his grip on your neck tightening, “Let’s see how tough you are once you beg for mercy.”
You gasped for air desperately, your hands clawing at his paws and legs kicking out behind him. Your heart was racing anxiously, eyes darting all around you to see if there was anything around that could help you. A shimmer of light catches your eye, and you're just able to turn your head ever so slightly to your right. Your silver hair pin glistened in the light beside you, like a gift from God himself.
You turn your attention back to the wolf, not wanting to reveal your plan to him. You could feel your vision begin to spot from lack of oxygen, but you stretch out your right arm, desperately trying to reach the pin without making it obvious. You felt the cool metal suddenly come in contact with your fingertips, rolling it closer to you into it finally was tight in your fist. With as much strength as you could muster, you swing your arm up and over, stabbing your assaulter right where his shoulders met his neck.
The wolf immediately howled in pain, rolling to his side and off you to grasp at the makeshift weapon lodged in his neck. You gasped for breath, feeling your blurry vision slowly speckle back as you choked in air. Exhaustion was taking over at this point; your head felt heavy from all the blows, and you could feel your body becoming numb from the blood-loss. Your eyes lazily scanned the area until they locked on Alastor’s mike, and you knew this would be your last chance if you wanted to survive this.
You force your weak body to move, crawling on the ground as quick as you could towards the staff, scratching your arms and stomach as you went. You whimpered in agony, wishing to just give up and let sleep take over. But Alastor was waiting for you. Your friends back at the hotel were waiting. You couldn’t give up, not after coming this far.
Finally, you manage to stretch out and grab the mike, pulling it close to your mouth and taking a big breath.
“ALAS-!”
A fuzzy hand gripped your ankle and yanked you whole body away, making you cry out in fear as your plea was cut off. Your body scrapped painfully on the ground, dirt and tiny rocks grating against your open wounds. You whip your body around, cane still tight in hand and flinging it over to strike your opponent. But the wolf caught it skillfully in his paw, his pupils constricted and baring his fangs, the fur on his neck now sticky and tainted red.
“Enough of this shit.”
The hound threw the staff out of your grasp and to the side, straddling you once again, but this time pinning both your arms over your head with one arm and leaning over you dangerously. You sobbed out in agony, your mind desperately telling your body to fight, but too exhausted to react. The alpha sneered down at you, panting and eyes wild with fury.
“Believe me when I say I find no pleasure in killing.” he growled, his hot breath hitting your face and making you whine out in dread. “But now…” The dog began to raise his free arm high in the air, his claws extracting with a sharp sound.
“I’m gonna enjoy watching you bleed out.”
A sob escaped your throat, tears streaming down your face in thick streams. This was it. This was going to be how you died. You had never actually died in Hell yet, and a part of you was scared. How long until you came back to life? Would you remember any of this… Fuck, would you remember anything at all? You couldn’t imagine a life outside of the hotel, not now. Not without the friends you've made. Certainly not without Alastor. The thought was unbearable.
His arm came down swiftly, and you cried out in terror, shutting your eyes tight and turning your head, trying to block out the nightmare in front of you. You heard a slash of skin being torn and felt your whole body tense at the sound. You waited for the searing pain, for the blood to gush out from you until you became numb.
But oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything.
You dared to peek up at the wolf on top of you, a peculiar look on his face as he was frozen in mid swing. His eyelid twitched, mouth partially open before his top half suddenly began to … slide?
“Funny you should say that, I was thinking ₮ⱧɆ ɆӾ₳₵₮ ₴₳₥Ɇ ₮Ⱨł₦₲.”
Before you could comprehend where the voice came from, the wolf's upper body slid clean off his waist, toppling to the side and beside you on the ground. You slowly sat up, unable to speak as blood began to pool around you, both from his severed chest and his hips and legs. A large black tentacle came up from behind you and grabbed onto one of the wolf's ankles, picking up the severed lower section and flinging it off of your body. You blink in recognition, feeling your initial shock subside and your chest tighten with hope. You turned around towards your saviour, but had to hold in your gasp at the creature behind you.
Microphone once again tight in his grasp, this demon was as tall as the buildings surrounding you; body barely able to fit between the narrow alleyway as he bent over you. Horns tripled in size and much more resembled deer antlers, black tentacles splayed from his back and writhing around, huge hands and talons sharp, eyes black as night and scarlet pupils in the shape of dials, and a red ‘x’ on his forehead burning brightly.
You had never seen Alastor in this state; in his true demonic form. You almost didn’t believe it was him. But his characteristic smile was ever present, your skin feeling that familiar buzz of electricity from his sound waves. You knew just how powerful he was, but to witness him at his full potential, it truly was a sight to behold.
The giant form was watching you this whole time, dials flickering over your tiny body below him. From your face, to your torn chest and dress, to your bloodied legs, and back up to you. You felt a chill crawl down your spine as you locked eyes, your breath catching in your throat. Any other person would have been terrified looking up at such a creature, but oddly enough, you felt the safest you had ever been. Though you could feel the outrage that was emanating from his very body, you could sense the recognition in his eyes, the kindness deep within those haunting eyes.
The clatter of a loose can snapped you both out of your gaze, Alastor whipping his giant head up and forward, once again sharp and on alert. You heard a whimper of fright and manage to notice the Mastiff tumble out from the shadows and begin to run, yelling like a child and scrambling to get as far away as possible. There was a sudden buzz in the air, the Radio Demon’s smile curling up on his face and drooling blood. A chilling laugh escaped his throat, his jaw practically unhinging like a snake.
“Well that was not a wise decision on your part…” Alastor growled, his voice deeper and booming as the sound practically shook the ground beneath you. His large body began to move forward, crawling like an animal and the screeching of static ringing out in the air.
“Don’t you know a hunter ⱤɆⱠł₴ⱧɆ₴ ł₦ ₳ ₲ØØĐ ₵Ⱨ₳₴Ɇ??”
The Overlord pounds forward, surprisingly fast for his size as the Hell Hound screeches in horror, sprinting further into the darkness of the alleyway ahead. You sat in the pool of the alpha’s blood, still stunned at the events of this afternoon and unable to do anything other than sit and stare. You numbly look over to the severed wolf beside you, his eyes already glossy and deprived of any life.
One.
You look back up to the large lanky demon stomping forward, laughing maniacally as whimpered screams of the Mastiff could be heard bouncing off the brick walls.
Two.
You blinked for a moment, your brain slow to process, but eventually catching up to the current events and what seemed wrong about this picture.
Fuck.
Where was the Doberman.
You heard some shuffling from behind a dumpster and whip your head over, your previous question instantly being answered. The skinny dog limped forward, eyes locked on Alastor and unaware of you watching him. He limped forward, his right paw still sore from you stomping on it. But his arm was tucked into his jacket suspiciously, and you felt your eyes narrow dubiously. A soft click snapped from inside the cloth, and the Doberman pulled out what appeared to be a gun, pointing it right at Alastor’s back.
But there was something about this weapon that made you feel uneasy. The silver finishes that swirled around it, the way it practically radiated light in the darkness. There was something about this weapon that felt unnatural; like it didn’t belong in this world.
It seemed almost… Holy…
You felt your blood run cold.
It was all a blur. Rage and fear had taken full control of your body. Whatever exhaustion you had felt earlier was forgotten, whatever aches and pains slowing you down were no longer a hindrance. Completely fuelled with adrenaline and desperation, you scramble forward, bending over and grabbing your hair pin splayed on the ground. You sprint at a speed in which you never had before, screeching out Alastor’s name in warning before leaping onto the hound from behind.
The Doberman shouted in protest, raising his arms in defense and misfiring. The sound ricocheted off the walls, causing the Radio Demon to whip his head around, mouth half full of the Mastiff to a sight truly unbeheld.
Your legs tight around the Dobermans waist, your one hand gripped at his head while the other continuously stabbed him in the neck. The dog clawed away at your arms desperately, howling out in pain as blood began to gush from his throat. But his screams were nothing compared to yours. Like a wild animal, you shrieked in fury, holding him tight and eyes feral as you punctured his neck again and again. The Doberman’s eyes eventually rolled to the back of his head, falling to his knees and landing face first on the ground. But as you went down with him, you continued your assault, kneeling over him with both arms overhead and slamming the hair pin into his back again and again and again.
Alastor watched from afar, jaw hanging open and the Mastiff’s carcass falling out from between his razor teeth. Never had he imagined he would see a spectacle such as this, certainly not from the likes of you. Not the girl who sang jazz in the kitchen, laughed at his horrendous puns, and slept so peacefully in his presence. He was convinced you were an angel in disguise, too pure for this damned world.
And yet.
Here you were, stabbing and slashing and drenched in another's blood.
And he got to witness it.
Your furious screams started sputtering into sobs, and Alastor immediately snapped out of his thoughts. He immediately shifted into the shadows, slithering to you at lightning speed and emerging beside you, back to his regular appearance and hesitating a moment before gently placing both his hands on your shoulders.
“Y/n,” he spoke tenderly, “Y/n, darling. It’s ok. He’s gone. You’re safe.”
The sound of his voice made you whip your head up to him, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes were wide with horror making Alastor flinch, unsure how you were going to react. Immediately, you turn your upper body to him, grabbing onto his cheeks with bloodied hands and inspecting his face all over.
“Are you ok??” you sob, eyes panicked and looking all over his body, “you didn’t get hit, did you?? God please tell me you’re ok!”
Alastor blinked back his confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at your words. “Of course I’m alright my dear, whatever do you-!”
A glimmer of light caught his eye, and his gaze was momentarily pulled away from your frantic face. Upon laying eyes over the peculiar weapon, he felt his eyes widen in recognition. There was no mistaking the silver swirls decorating the gun. He had heard rumours of such weapons, not yet having the pleasure of seeing anything of the like in real life.
He had heard the gunshot earlier, and was worried you were on the other end of the rifle which had triggered him to turn. But he hadn’t considered that the bullet was intended for him. Of course, a regular bullet wound was of no concern to him, he had survived much worse.
But a bullet from an angelic weapon?
As he formed the picture in his head, you calling out his name desperately and your sudden panic for his well being, it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together.
You didn’t kill out of self defense.
You had killed to protect him.
You had killed for him.
His mind was tumbling with this new wave of information and emotions, something that he didn’t often struggle with. But he felt your hands slip away from his face, causing him to focus back on you. Your head was bent down, hair draping over and covering your face, and soon your shoulders began to tremble. The distinct sound of you crying caused a jolt to shoot up Alastor’s spine, and immediately he lowered a hand under your chin to tilt your head up towards him. Sure enough, big salty tears were streaming down your face. But what caught him the most off guard was the weepy smile spread across your face.
“Thank God.” you wept, your voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it, “I-I was so worried… I couldn’t live with myself if…” your lip trembled as you burst into tears. Whether they were tears of relief or fear, he wasn’t sure, but one thing was for certain.
Alastor had never seen someone so shaken at the thought of him dying.
And that made him feel… something.
But he didn’t have time to delve into that. Not right now. He had to address this situation before he could dissect his thoughts. He knelt beside you, truly taking in your state of dress and being. Your dress was torn to shreds and blood-soaked, your chest bearing deep claw marks, the side of your head had dried blood spilling from your hairline, cheek swollen, scrapped stomach and legs, and bruises scattered all over your body.
Rage swelled up in his body. Furious at the hounds who did this to you. Bitter at you for thinking that going off on your own was a good idea. And most of all, outraged at himself for allowing this to have happened in the first place. And when that last thought trickled into his brain, he felt something else slither in his mind to replace that anger. An ancient feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time; ever since he was alive.
Guilt.
What a terrible emotion. He hated it with every fiber of his being. He never felt regret or sorrow for the actions he took since descending to Hell. Why would he when dealing with demons and creatures alike that he saw as mere obstacles in his way? But as he looked down at your crumpled form, his usual sunny sparrow clipped of her wings and trembling before him. Knowing that he had broken his promise of protecting you…
His eyebrows furrowed, ears falling flat on his head as his jaw clenched tightly.
Of course, you weren’t at all aware of the torment currently happening in Alastor’s mind. You were just so damn relieved he was ok, and that you were alive to tell the tale. Your choked sobs were slowly lessening, trying to focus on your breathing and just so freaking grateful to still have oxygen in your lungs. As you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you could feel your eyes growing tired, body slowly relaxing finally knowing the horror was over. The aches and pains were coming back to life, your chest especially burning painfully and your dress sticky with blood. Whatever adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was fastly subsiding, blood loss making your head heavy and limbs numb.
You didn’t even realize you were falling over until you felt long arms catch you, holding you up so you didn’t hit the ground. You could hear the familiar buzz of Alastor’s radio-like voice speaking to you, but your head was swimming, and your ears weren’t able to pick up what he was saying. You tried to look up at him, but your vision was so blurred, he was just a red fuzz in your eyes. You were so tired; you just wanted to sleep. And Alastor’s body was so warm and familiar, it was like a comforting blanket. You leaned in closer to his body, desperate for that feeling after such a harrowing event.
You could feel yourself fading fast, and a single thought emerged that made you panic a moment. The bag. The present. You can’t leave that damned thing behind. You reached out a hand and lazily padded at Alastor’s chest, mumbling out a string of words that you prayed made sense. The red blob tilted to the side, and you knew he was confused, but you couldn’t fully explain yourself. He was smart, you knew he would figure it out. And you knew he would take care of you; you were in safe hands now.
You could finally allow yourself to sleep.
Your vision was quickly dimming, darkness beginning to surround you until eventually your eyelids fell shut and you blacked out completely.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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My beautiful does and bucks: @saccharine-nectarine @doowopshewop @mysterypotatoink @wendds @crispybelieverworld @raicomme
((WE GOT MORE BEAUTIFUL SINNERS YAY ꨄ ))
#leilani-lily#alastor the radio demon#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#oh deer
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"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡
megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.
and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.
for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.
“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,
bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.
he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.
with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.
he could never interfere with your comfort.
after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.
“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.
“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.
matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.
in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.
megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”
you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”
a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”
you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”
clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.
he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”
you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”
yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.
the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.
“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.
you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”
“let’s fuck, then.”
his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.
in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.
megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.
“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.
this might be his best birthday yet.
he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.
lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.
“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.
his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?
he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.
underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.
“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.
“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.
“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.
while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.
“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.
white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.
after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.
he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.
“you’re the best birthday present.”
#𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 ┆jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#megumi smut#megumi x reader#megumi x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#megumi fushiguro smut#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi jujutsu kaisen#jjk megumi#megumi fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓
Satoru Gojo
Pairing: Professor!Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: To ensure you have a good grade, you stay a couple of minutes after class to chat with your professor.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Face Fucking, Cum Eating, Power Dynamic
*In honor of the anniversary (which passed LMAO) of his unsealing, here's what I posted for the special occasion that got hit with a community label right away
You usually stay a couple of minutes after class to ask your professor a couple of questions about your homework. You’re always the last person to ask, mainly because after everything, he gives you some extra credit work to ensure you pass his class.
“Make sure the door is locked.” Professor Gojo reminds you, and you walk over to the door to make sure no one will be able to walk through. Once you’re sure your little extra credit assignment won’t be interrupted, you walk back to Satoru with a smirk on your face.
You take a seat on the desk, spreading your legs and lifting your skirt so he can see the cute little red panties you wear. He licks his lips at the sight, before his lips go down to meet yours. His tongue licks your bottom lip before it slides into your mouth. And as much as he’d love to taste your sugary lips all day long, you don’t have much time.
“Get on your knees.” He orders when he pulls away. You don’t get much say in what you do, after all, this is for extra credit. You have to work and do what he wants. So you get on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, telling you, “You really have to work for this.”
“I’ll do anything, professor.” You look up at him with doe-eyes as one of his hands goes down and caresses your cheek. You bat your eyelashes, watching as he unbuttons his pants. You feel his thumb press against your lips before he pulls down your bottom lip. He smirks.
“What a good student. The smartest and prettiest in the class.” He says as he begins to pull down his briefs. As he allows his cock to spring free he adds, “And the sluttiest.”
You lick your lips, your mouth beginning to water at the sight in front of you. He begins to stroke his cock, his thumb going over the tip and spreading his pre-cum, as he watches you. Your eyes focused on his dick. You’re biting down your bottom lip as you stare at it. He tells you ever-so-lovingly, “Open your mouth, sweetheart. Go ah–”
You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, allowing him to slap his tip on your tongue. He keeps slapping your tongue until he gets bored and thrusts, putting almost every inch of his dick in your mouth. It causes you to gag, and you forget to breathe through your nose. Tears well up in your nose as Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and stops you from pulling away. He lets go and takes his cock out, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He smirks while looking at your face.
“Ah, can’t take it?” He taunts. You can’t say anything before he shoves his cock in your mouth again. This time you can actually handle it, remembering to breathe through your nose. He begins to move his hips. He groans as he moves, telling you, “What a nice little mouth. I should fuck it more often.”
You’re looking up at him, a tear escaping your eye as the tip of his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat. Drool drips down to your chin as he uses your mouth. His balls slap against your chin with his every thrust. “Fuck– I need to tell Getou about this.”
You’re not paying all that much attention to what he says. You rarely do while you have sex. You just know he’s enjoying himself, at least that’s what you decipher from his grunting. Tears continue to escape your eyes and the sight is enough to nearly make him come.
“You’re working real hard.” He comments, finally letting go of your hair. He knows you won’t pull away now. “Should’ve done this sooner.”
He’s coming close to finishing, you can tell by the way his hips pick up speed, faster than his usual pace. You look up at him, watching how his head is thrown back. His lips are parted as he moans into the air, knowing that no one will hear. And if someone does, who cares? Nobody would snitch, and he wouldn’t mind a little blackmailing as long as he gets to put his cock in your mouth again. He grabs a fistful of your hair again and pushes your face onto him, your nose buried into his pubes.
“Fuck… Fuck–” He groans, coming to a complete stop inside your mouth, his bitter cum hitting the back of your throat. He lets go, allowing you to take your mouth off his cock and deeply inhale as you make sure to swallow his cum. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”
You do as he says, and he grabs your chin and he moves your face. He smiles, patting your cheek, when he realizes that you swallowed every drop, “What a good girl. You’re getting your extra credit.”
“Thank you, professor.”
#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojou satoru smut#gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojou satoru x you#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk satoru#jujustu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo
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『♡』 Besotted
♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader
♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+
♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)
notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!
“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers.
It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.
Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette.
It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax.
But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.
How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks.
You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too.
Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day.
The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.
She wants...my name.
My name.
The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy.
How fucking dare they.
How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it.
On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets.
“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.
“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?”
“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.”
“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.”
“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off.
“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.”
“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger.
“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand.
“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked.
“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.”
“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.”
You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you.
“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup.
“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.”
“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile.
“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked.
“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.”
“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you.
“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess.
“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it.
“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-”
“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped.
“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire.
Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance?
“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added.
“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.”
Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last.
The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning.
Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.
Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”
A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort.
You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.
When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful.
Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”
“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club.
“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”
“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair.
“Spill it” you demand.
“Spill what?”
“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.”
You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.”
“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”
“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend.
“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance.
“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem.
“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul.
“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.
“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration.
“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible.
“We love each other. That won’t happen.”
“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.
You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-”
Ding
That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag.
You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.
There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability.
“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word.
You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things.
He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”
You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal.
“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.”
You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles.
“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort.
“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone.
“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?”
“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion.
“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-”
“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.
“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.”
“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you.
The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.
He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.
“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.”
“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk.
You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest.
The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics.
You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen.
“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt.
“Ajax.”
“Hm?”
“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete.
You unfurl the cover.
Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.
The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry:
“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing
my sun and star ♡
my blood and bone ♡
♡ my goddess, my angel,
the very essence of my existence ♡
♡ my love is infinite and eternal
you are destined to be mine ♡
♡ forever, forever she is mine ”
You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.
“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile.
“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.”
You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage.
Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up.
“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf.
“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock.
“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.
“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.”
Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.
“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.”
The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney.
“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?”
“Merengue, she’s my favorite.”
“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down.
“Ugh, don’t remind me!”
“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise.
“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.”
“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back.
“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums.
“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.”
“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.
“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.
“You mind making another, Lyney?”
“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.
“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?”
Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.”
“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.”
“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely.
“How many times must I apologize?”
“Until you die.”
“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”
You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.”
“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours.
“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”
The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race.
“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.”
“It was a surprise.”
“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know.
“Yeah, from back home.”
“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.”
“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.”
“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.”
“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-”
“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-”
“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.
“Excuse me?”
“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.
“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli.
“Of course. Let’s go.”
You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-”
Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp.
Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.
“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”
The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege.
The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.
You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run.
You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him.
“Ajax?”
“Yea?” he chirps.
“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek.
“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.
“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him.
“No baby, nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin.
“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips.
“Am I not good enough for you?”
“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on.
“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.”
His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.”
“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves.
“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight.
“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost."
“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers.
“You don’t need…me?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying-”
“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle.
“What if I just...lock you up?”
“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs.
“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.”
“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”
“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant.
“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical.
“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.”
Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.”
The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.
“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.”
“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.
Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.
But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.
Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair.
“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion.
“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back. Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes.
Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.
“Ajax.”
“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body.
“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.
A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.
You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips.
Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.
Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.
“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy.
Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud.
“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.”
“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.
“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.”
“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand.
“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question.
“Of course.”
“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing.
“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length.
“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!”
“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.
It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.
“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel.
“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.
“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”
No. It can’t be true.
You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.
“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.
“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?”
“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)
#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin au#ajax smut#ajax x reader#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x reader#childe tartaglia ajax#childe smut#childe x reader#genshin impact#genshin tartagalia#i need ajax BAD#so sorry about the wait this time
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Let Them See
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon teases you while you're at the bookstore. on the way home, he has to pull over to deal with it.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, praise/degradation, dubcon elements (reader is scared of being caught), thigh fucking, he cums inside, car sex, road head, teasing in public, crying, sub space (forgive me if i'm using that incorrectly)
word count: 4.9k
a/n: i feel absolutely depraved. thank you to @sleepyluxe for the idea. this does reference my other fic, but it's not important to the plot. just if you read that one, this is like a little sequel! if you sent me a request, i am working on it, please be patient with me. i hope everyone enjoys. special smooches to everyone who reblogs and comments and sends me asks :) you don't know how much it means to me <3
tags: @dwkfan @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @sleepyluxe @petitecolibri @death-paint @luniaxi @bizzarethirst
lmk if you would like to be added to the list!
You gaze out the window of the car, looking around at the beautiful day outside the glass. You softly hum along to the song playing on the radio as Leon’s fingers rub tiny circles on your inner thigh. You occasionally look over at him to watch him drive, your eyes full of all the love in the world. Your boyfriend finally had some time off, and he was spending it with you.
The entire day so far consisted of the two of you going around and just doing whatever you wanted. Just having fun together. Now, you were on the way to the bookstore. You had no shopping agenda, it was just another stop on your series of activities.
He pulls the car into a parking space near the shop and shuts it off. He squeezes your thigh once more before leaning over to kiss your cheek.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he asks while stroking your face softly.
You nod and lean in for one more sweet kiss.
The two of you exit the car and head towards the store. Your hand finds his immediately, interlacing your fingers together. You lean your head against his shoulder as the automatic doors glide apart to let you in. His expression softens when you display your need to be close, and he kisses the crown of your head.
You wander the aisles together, looking through different sections and pointing out different things you’d read or wanted to read. Eventually, you end up in the romance section. Leon shifts his position to stand behind you and watch from over your shoulder. His arms circle your form, encasing you against his chest while he nuzzles the side of your head and kisses your cheek a few times.
You smile and turn your head slightly to give him a small kiss as you read the synopsis of the book in your hand. You guessed he had missed you lately since he’d been working so much. He was usually pretty attached to you right after coming home, and you never minded because why would you? If he needed extra affection, you would never deny him that.
Your intuition was half-correct because your boyfriend had missed you and did want to be in physical contact with you constantly right now, but the reason behind his current touchiness was a different type of longing.
He was so pent up from being away from you. A couple of days before he left for his last mission you had let it slip that you wanted to call him Daddy, and he had been feeling wild ever since. Sure, he’d fucked you until you couldn’t walk prior to him leaving and spent nearly all of last night inside of you, but it wasn’t enough. He craved you so deeply. He could feel every cell in his body yearning for you.
In his time away, it felt as if images of you clouded his mind in every waking moment. If he wasn’t actively fighting for his life, but even in those moments too sometimes, he was thinking of you. Your blissed out, flushed face, and your soft parted lips spilling entrancing sounds of pleasure. The way he could nearly see a physical change once you heard him praise you or remind you to be good for Daddy haunted him each minute he was across the globe from you.
It was like a new part of you had been unlocked to him. A side of you that looked at him with such reverence that he almost couldn’t stand it. He loved every facet of your personality, but this piece of you that wanted nothing more than to love him and be taken care of drove him up the wall.
He takes a deep breath while peppering the side of your neck with gentle kisses, inhaling your scent. He lets out a hum next to your ear, quiet enough so only you can hear, but in a tone to let you know what he desires.
Despite his hinting, you just smile again and give him another chaste kiss. You were still too focused on that book for his liking. He watches you flip through the pages and scan different passages. He is disinterested for the most part until a certain section of words catches his eye.
“His manhood glides into her sopping heat,” he reads with a low chuckle. He gives you another peck on your temple. “This what you read when I’m gone, honey? So dirty, but I guess I should’ve known.”
“Oh, shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You gently jab your elbow back into his abdomen.
That makes him smile and hold you even tighter against his broad front. His hands slowly rub either side of your body while his warm breath is blowing over your neck.
“No, it’s ok, baby. I know you’re insatiable. You gotta take care of yourself somehow when I’m not there,” he says quietly against your skin.
“Leon,” you say in a warning tone. It wasn’t so much what he was saying that was starting to get you hot. It was the low rumble of his voice, his lips brushing your throat, and his thick biceps locked around you like boa constrictors.
“I can just see it. You in bed, book in one hand, the other down your shorts, those fingers playing with your pretty, aching pussy. Hips bucking while you bite your lip,” he breathes, “But it’s probably not enough, is it? No, I’ve got you trained so well, baby girl. I know you can’t cum without Daddy’s help. I bet you call out for me when I’m not there, wishing it was me buried between those cute legs instead of your hand.”
“Leon,” you say, trying to speak in a warning tone, but it comes out as a soft whine. Your cheeks felt hot and your head a little dizzy.
“Leon?” he mocks, “That’s not who you were crying for last night, sweetheart.”
“Daddy,” you correct yourself quietly, turning your head to look into his eyes. His lips curl further into a predatory grin.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he coos and kisses your nose, “Daddy’s girl is so smart, remembering things like that. Good to know you keep some of that mind after I fuck it dumb all night.”
The way he taunts you makes it feel like your knees are going to buckle. You try to plead with him through your eyes. The aisle you were in was empty and towards the back of the store, but your mind was running rampant with thoughts of someone else catching the words that left his mouth.
“What’s that look for, princess?” he laughs in a hushed tone, “I thought you loved when I talked like that.”
“What if someone hears?” you ask softly.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, “Are you afraid of someone seeing how pathetic you are for Daddy?”
Heat bunches in your lower abdomen making you shift a little. You nod.
“Scared of someone seeing how you rub those gorgeous thighs together? How you can’t meet anyone’s eyes? How you have to hold Daddy’s hand to feel ok?” he whispers before nipping at your earlobe, “And all just from a few words.”
Your breath hitches and you fight to keep the whimper blossoming in your throat inside. “We’ll get in trouble,” you say, your voice shaking.
“Aw, my sweet girl doesn’t want to get in trouble?” he teases, “Baby, we’re just talking. If you can just keep yourself under control, we’ll be fine. I know it’s hard for you though. You hear Daddy, and you become such a needy little slut.”
Your head hangs forward a bit. You stare at the ground trying not to let yourself lose it in public. You were slipping into that state of mind where all you wanted was to be good for him. You wanted to just drop to your knees and have him pet your head while you sucked him off.
He knows what’s going through your mind. He can read you like no other. One of his hands slides down to your stomach to gently caress you there. The book you were holding was long forgotten, and Leon smiles wide as you push it back onto the shelf.
“I mean, even if someone did hear me, it wouldn’t be that bad, would it? It’s not like they’re seeing you when we’re alone. When you’re whining and crying for my cock like a bitch in heat,” he rasps.
“Daddy, stop,” you whimper. You felt hot and achy with need. You just wanted him to hold you and fuck you until you couldn’t think, but you were stuck in the middle of this store with bright lights and people walking around and nowhere to be alone.
“Do you really want me to stop, angel?” he asks, “I know you love this. I know you love feeling all shy and needing me to make it better. I think deep down you want everyone to know what a whore you are for me. You want ‘em to know how I own you.”
You bite your lip. You were getting so turned on, you felt like you could cry. The mix of shame and arousal swirls inside your head and pushes all other thoughts out. It was just you and Leon right now, no one else mattered. Being seen like this was becoming less of a worry to you.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk, “I know you love it. I bet you if I put my hand down your pants right now, you’d soak my fingers. I just know you’re dripping from being reminded how pathetic you are for me.”
You turn around in his hold to hide your face against his chest. Your arms wrap around his body so that you’re as close as possible. If someone else saw you now, they might just think you were having a bad day and Leon was comforting you in earnest.
Your display of submission amuses him. His face is smug. He rubs your back and cradles your head.
“Aw, baby, are you gonna cry? Is this too much for you, sweetheart? Are you embarrassed I can get you this desperate from my voice alone?” he croons.
“Yes,” you say. Your tone is desperate, both for him and to leave the store.
“But why are you embarrassed, honey? You like being claimed, don’t you?” he coos and tilts your head up by your chin, taking in your flustered expression, “Yeah, you like when people see us, and they know that you’re mine just from one look. So what is there to be embarrassed about, babydoll?”
“I like it… but… I just… because-” you struggle to articulate yourself as you gaze into his piercing eyes and he begins rubbing his knuckles along your jawline.
“Because you don’t want anyone else knowing? No one else can see how much you like being controlled because it’s shameful, isn’t it? It’s humiliating to admit that you like me controlling everything, from the number of times you cum at night down to the clothes you wear when you wake up in the morning. No one else should know the infinite amount of vile, disgusting things you would do if I just asked you to,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.
He swipes his thumb across your lips slowly as he talks. When he’s done, he sticks the digit between your lips. You gently suck on it, maintaining eye contact with him all the while.
His eyebrows raise, indicating how pleased he is with you. “I really do have you perfectly trained. You don’t even think about it anymore. You feel any part of me in your mouth and you know to start sucking like a good little slut.” He pulls his thumb back out and smears your saliva over your lips.
“Can we just leave?” you ask softly, your eyes casting down again, “Please.”
“What? You don’t want to buy anything? You know I’ll pay,” he teases, knowing that shopping couldn’t be further from your mind right now.
“Please Daddy,” you whisper and look at him desperately. You were so soaked it would be uncomfortable if you stood there for any longer.
He presses a tender kiss to your lips, deciding to give you a break. “Yeah, beautiful. We can leave. I don’t think you could focus enough to read anything right now even if you wanted to.”
He takes you under his arm and starts to guide you out of the store. You keep your arms around him as you lean into his side.
“That’s my girl. My good girl,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head while the two of you walk through the exit, “You just need Daddy right now, don’t you baby?”
“Mhm,” you hum quietly as you make your way through the parking lot.
When you reach the car, Leon opens the door for you and helps you inside. He then quickly goes around to the other side of the car and gets in the driver's seat. He wastes no time turning it on and getting it into gear. The car whips out of the parking space and out to the road.
Your eyes continuously dart over to him. The urge to hop over the center console and into his lap was all-consuming. He briefly glances at you with a knowing look.
You take that as a signal and slowly reach across the car. Your hand lands at the top of his thigh and slides over his lap to palm him through his jeans. He was already half-hard from tormenting you in the store.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks teasingly.
You tentatively pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. Your eyes are silently begging while your fingers begin massaging the outline of his length over his boxers.
“Just need to feel it. Please,” you say as your fingertips continue their miniscule movements.
He shakes his head and lets out a laugh while adjusting in his seat to give you better access. “You need it, do you?”
You nod and maneuver your hand into his underwear for direct contact. Your fingers wrap around him, feeling the heat of it pulsing in your grasp. Your content with that for a while, but soon you want more.
“Daddy, can I please suck your cock?” you ask.
Hearing your soft and sweet voice ask for something so vulgar made his dick twitch with need for you, but he tried to keep his reaction casual.
“Look at you, asking like a good girl,” he teases, “Can’t wait until we get home? Did Daddy get you too worked up?”
“Yes,” you say timidly, “I just… I need it.”
“It’s ok, you don’t have to explain,” he says, “You can suck me off, my love. Just be good, so we don’t crash.”
You nod quickly, happy he wasn’t going to torment you on the way home too. After unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift and lean over to his seat to put your head in his lap. He splays a protective hand across your back as you get in position. Without hesitation, you get to task and pull him out of his boxers.
You lick the bulging head a few times, but then wrap your lips around it and sink down. You flatten your tongue against the shaft, feeling the veins as you lower your head. He groans and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. His other hand rubs your back in small strokes.
“There you go, angel,” he says, “Fuck, I could never say no to your mouth.”
You suck gently before bobbing your head slowly up and down. One of your hands cups his balls and kneads them carefully. The noises of the blowjob sound through the car’s enclosed space. Leon fights the instinct to buck into your throat. Your mouth was just so warm and wet and soft. Absolute heaven. It was hard for him to focus on the road in this condition.
It was easy for you to focus on giving him head though. You work your mouth over him, paying attention to all his favorite spots and taking him as deep as you can. You rest your nose against his pelvis as you hold him in your throat. His thighs tense and the car jerks a little when he accidentally pushes on the brakes too hard.
“Jesus fuck, baby. Ease up a little,” he grunts. His hand on your back coasts up to your neck and caresses the base of your skull.
Not long after he says this, you pull off to catch your breath. While you take your break, you purse your lips and spit a fat glob of saliva onto his cock. It drips onto the head and then slides the rest of the way down to where your fist is now gripping him. You start jerking him and spreading your drool around his shaft.
You press sloppy, wet kisses to his tip. Some of his precum coats your lips before you open your mouth and bring him inside again. You make muted gagging noises while you try to get him deep again.
He wants so badly to watch you, to see that adorable dedicated look on your face and your eyes tearing up as you choke yourself. It’s driving him crazy having to watch the street ahead of him. He can also feel the simmering build up of release which he doesn’t want to do so soon or while he’s driving. His hips twitch more while he white-knuckles the wheel.
“Babe, calm down,” he hisses pointlessly. You’re wrapped up in your own little world right now, “If you don’t quit it, I’m gonna cum and then you’re not gonna get to have any fun when we get home.”
You sort of register that comment, but you were absolutely fixated on getting him to blow his load down your throat so you don’t stop.
He realizes instantly that you’re not going to let up. He makes a split second decision to pull a sharp turn onto a less busy road. He steers the car off of the asphalt and off road a little bit. Once there’s substantial distance between your vehicle and the road, he throws it in park and yanks you up by your hair.
“When I tell you to do something, it’s not a request,” he states simply.
It takes a lot in him to keep up the serious persona and not smile at your face right now. You looked fucked out even though you hadn’t even come close to the main event yet. Saliva covers your lips and chin while your eyes project a dazed mix of arousal and guilt.
“But Daddy, I just wanted to make you feel good,” you say.
“Liar. I know you just wanted some cum down your throat cause you’re a greedy little slut, baby,” he chides, “Also, is it your job to ‘try’ whatever you want?”
You shake your head and look down like a puppy who’s been caught being bad. “I’m sorry Daddy,” you say softly.
“What is your job?” he asks, ignoring your apology.
“To be a good girl and listen to Daddy.”
“Hm, so you do remember. You’re not stupid then, just deliberately disobedient,” he says.
You open your mouth to dispute that but decide against arguing and shut it again. The way you were shrinking in on yourself made him want to ruin you even more.
“Good, at least it looks like you’re learning. I’ll have to remind you of the rest though,” he says and finally lets go of your hair, “Get your ass in the backseat.”
“But Daddy-” you start, about to repeat your fears from earlier about being seen.
“Enough with this ‘but Daddy’ shit. You wanna act like a whore, that’s how I’ll treat you,” he says, “Be grateful for the privacy you get. You’re lucky I didn’t just stop the car and fuck you in the middle of the street.”
Your inner thighs were slick with your arousal by this point. You could feel it when you began crawling past your seat to the back of the car. Leon slaps your ass as you make your way there, causing you to yelp.
He simply gets out of the car and enters the backseat through the door. He sits next to you and looks at you expectantly.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks, “Do you really need me to guide your every move? I know that’s not true because you just showed me it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry Daddy,” you say again as you begin removing your clothes. You peel your top off and shimmy out of your pants.
“I know you are, baby. But I still have to teach you your lesson. You have to learn that Daddy knows best,” he says while taking off his own clothing.
You scoot closer to try and assist him, but he manages on his own and flips you over, pinning you to the seats. One hand is locked on the flesh of your hip while the other holds your head down against the leather. He’s kneeling behind you, hunched over due to his stature in the limited space.
He teases up and down your folds with the angry red tip of his cock, still leaking precum from the close call a few minutes ago. Your body yearns to be filled, but you keep quiet and try to appear patient.
“Do you even deserve my cock?” he asks as he bumps your clit. You would nod, but his hold on your head is strong. “I mean really, maybe I should be focused on training some patience into you. Teach you take what I give you and not vie for more.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whimper.
“I know, babydoll, that’s only the tenth time you’ve said that,” he mocks as he slides up and down through your slick, “But I can really show you what sorry is. Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you. What if, right now, I fuck your thighs? You keep those pretty legs together, nice and tight for me to use like a fleshlight.”
He pushes your thighs together like he described and begins slowly thrusting himself between them. He quietly grunts and kneads your ass.
“Please Daddy, no, I’m so-”
“Ah ah, don’t interrupt,” he tuts, not stopping his hips, “You’d probably still get off on it. You’re so whipped for me you’d probably cum if I smiled at you right.”
You stay silent. You knew he was teasing, but it might have been true. He knew all your buttons and just how to push them.
“Yeah, you know I’m right. My poor baby. You can’t help it. You don’t know any better, do you?”
“No…” you say quietly before your bottom lip juts out into a pout. The idea of him not fucking you properly while you were possibly the most horny you’d been in your life was deeply upsetting.
“No, you don’t,” he agrees in a condescending tone, “You just love Daddy so much. It’s not your fault your body is addicted to me. You don’t choose for your cunt to soak through your panties just from hearing my voice, do you? It just happens. Your heart knows it belongs to me.”
He speaks as if he’s comforting you which makes it feel so much worse and so much better at the same time. Your eyes water, the mix of emotion being a lot for you to handle in this state.
“It doesn’t care how pathetic you act because of it. All it knows is that you need your Daddy,” he says, his voice husky. He pulls away from the junction of your thighs and nudges your legs apart with his knees. He positions his cock at your entrance. “That’s why I’ll give you a pass, baby. You’re not a bad girl. You just need me to keep you in line sometimes.”
His grip has weakened enough that you’re able to nod. “Thank you Daddy,” you choke out as he pushes all the way inside in one go. You were so wet that he had no problem bottoming out immediately.
“Good girl,” he praises through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, “So fucking wet, Christ.”
Everything felt right now that he was inside of you. The relief crashed on you like a wave. A couple tears leak from your eyes and your body shudders.
He starts pushing himself in and out, his head tilts back as he does. You clutch the edge of the bench while your eyes flutter. You felt like you were up in the clouds. The feeling of him twitching against your walls as he slid in and out was total euphoria. It was a little much to feel this way from a few strokes, but like he said, you couldn’t control it.
You bounce your hips back against his and he smacks it. You can tell from the sting that there will probably be a handprint on the skin. He lets you fuck yourself on it for a little while before he takes over again. He stares down to where the two of you connect, unable to tear his eyes from how your cunt sucks in his cock, your wetness gathering around the spot where your bodies link.
You whimper and cry as he picks up speed, pistoning into you. Your cheek feels numb from being squished on the cushion. Leon notices and leans down closer to you. It wasn’t unusual for you to get emotional during sex but seeing it always made his protective urges flare up. He wraps his thick arm around your neck from behind, putting you into a loving headlock. He lays some messy kisses on the side of your temple.
“I love my needy girl so much. You know that right?” he whispers while sensually rolling his hips against your ass, “I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. My sweet girl, so sensitive. I love you baby.”
“I love you too,” you cry. You lean into his kisses and lift one of your hands to rest it on his forearm.
Knowing you’re ok, he resumes his harsher thrusts, pulling you by your neck closer to him. He growls into your ear and nuzzles the side of your head.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe. Can’t last in this tight pussy, squeezing me like a fucking anaconda,” he moans.
You bite your lip and grip his arm tighter as you feel your own peak rising within.
“Where do you want it, baby girl?” he grunts in your ear.
“Inside, Daddy. Please,” you whine.
He chuckles and gives you one more kiss on the head for saying please.
“I don’t even know why I ask anymore. Course you want it in your pussy. Even though you look so cute with Daddy’s cum all over your face, no thoughts in that pretty little head. Just happy you got some attention.”
“I like it inside,” you defend before gasping.
“I know you do, angel,” he says, his voice strained as the ecstasy begins to bubble over, “I like it too. Stuffing you full of me. A little reminder of who owns you once we’re finished.”
You nod as best you can in the headlock before your body seizes and jerks. Your orgasm rips through you, making you shake and moan through tears. You claw at his arm with both hands now, brokenly whimpering for Daddy over and over.
He can’t take it anymore. The sight beneath him mixed with the bliss of your cunt fluttering around him, it breaks the resolve inside him. He snaps his hips against you roughly and tightens his arm around you. He growls and grabs the leather seats so hard you think he might rip a chunk out.
He pumps into you repeatedly, draining himself in the warm embrace of your velvety walls. You can feel the thick white ropes filling you up as the sweaty skin of his abdomen rubs against your back.
His hips spasm as he finishes. He rests on top of you for a moment afterwards, panting to catch his breath. He kisses your neck gently and then moves to your ear.
“My beautiful, perfect girl,” he whispers, “So good for me, baby, like always.”
He gets off of you so you can sit up. Once you do, he gently holds your jaw and wipes away any leftover tears and saliva on your face. He leans in and gives you a soft kiss.
“So pretty,” he mumbles against your lips.
The two of you dress in the backseat, pulling your clothes on haphazardly so you can actually go home. This time you get out of the backseat through the door and hop back in the passenger seat. You laugh when you see Leon stretching outside of the driver's door.
“You ok there, buddy?” you tease when he gets back in.
He smiles, raises his eyebrows, and starts the car up.
“I’m buddy now? Are you over Daddy?” he says, “This is the thanks I get for working hard to please you.”
“Thank you Daddy,” you say overly-sweet, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he pulls back onto the road.
“You wanna play around, but I’m not the one who was crying that ten minutes ago when she thought she wouldn’t get any dick,” he laughs.
“Oh, shut up, Leon!” you say and roll your eyes.
“It’s Leon right now, but I bet you when we’re home in five minutes, I’ll have you begging for Daddy again,” he says and smirks.
You smile and look away, knowing that he’s totally right.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy imagine#resident evil smut#smut
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now that we're older
a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 3.5k
summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)
a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3
(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)
—
Luke lets you love him in the nighttime.
It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours.
And you let him.
The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.
Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.
“You okay, angelface?”
Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.
“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”
Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”
“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.
“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.
He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.
“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.
Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.
“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.
“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.”
“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s writing it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare.
“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”
He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously.
“Got off the hook, trouble?”
The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.
“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”
“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.
Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”
“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”
“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”
“You’re my favorite memory, trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.
“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.
“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.
“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”
He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.
“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this.
Not a dream, nor a titan.
You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.
“I love you, I love you, I love you…”
—
You let him love you in the mornings.
Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug.
This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream.
Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.
You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ”
“Good morning, pretty girl.”
The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”
“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.
“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”
Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”
He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.
“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”
He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”
“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes…None of it matters.”
“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…
“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.
“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”
“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”
“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”
He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?”
You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.
He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.
“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?”
You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.
“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”
He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…
The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.
“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”
You both sigh.
“You signed up for offense?”
“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, trouble…”
Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.
“Hey! Oof—”
Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.
“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”
Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.
“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”
“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”
You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.
Not if he can help it.
“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”
You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”
“What was that baby?”
Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”
Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.
“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”
Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.
You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder.
Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.
—
“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl
½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri
#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#trouble!verse#made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan fluff
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Jean Hc’s: Mf Whipped
Pairing: Jean x gn! reader modern au!
Warnings: none
Summary: Just jean not wanting to admit he’s a big softie when it comes to you.
Genre: fluff.
He’d never admit it to anyone, but Jean is the biggest softie when it comes to loving you.
Jean will absolutely hold your hand in public, kiss you, open the door for you, but he will never let anyone find out how much he’ll do for you.
Fuck, you wanna do a face mask at midnight? He’ll clip his hair back and have you apply it on him. You want to slow dance with him after watching a romcom movie? He’s there with his phone blasting pretty music. You need to talk to him after a bad day? Jean will leave his friends to make sure you’re taken care of.
He’s a simp.
But he tries to hide it.
It’s so funny when you catch on.
One day, you both were sitting at the park, hidden away from public eyes. Flowers littered around you both and you absentmindedly starting to pluck a few.
Jeans head was laying in your lap, arms crossed behind his head. His view was gazing at the clouds slowly passing by along, eyes darting to your face every few minutes with a longing smile.
“What are you doing?” He asked now with his eyes closed. He could feel your fingertips brushing along his hair every few moments and an extra weight of something being placed on him.
“Nothing, don’t move.”
Jean chuckled at your words, obviously amused in what you were doing.
After placing the last flower in his hair, you quickly snapped a picture on your phone before he noticed something was up.
“Can I look now?”
“Ugh, fine but don’t sit up.” You told him and he grabbed his phone and switched on his camera. A small smile gracing his features when he saw various amounts of little white daisies and yellow dandelions placed in his hair.
“You look so pretty.” You gushed and leaned down to kiss him.
Jean blushed a little and you had to resist the urge to tease him. His usual ‘strong man’ barrier always broke when it was just you two alone.
Jean poked at daisies before plucking one out of his hair and gently brushing your hair back and placing it behind your ear.
“There, now we both look pretty.”
————
A few days later, you were on the couch scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking your friends’ posts and commenting on a few.
Your notifications were piling in since you just posted a few pictures of some selfies you took, but the last one was something special.
“(Y/n)!” Jeans voice called through the apartment.
“Yeah?” You innocently looked up at him when he entered the room.
“Care to explain this, doll?”
Jean shoved his phone in your face and you had to blink a few times to clearly see.
A smirk grew on your face when you realized he found your special picture on the post you shared. Staring at the platform more, you realized Eren had reposted your post with the picture of Jean you had taken at the park.
The picture showed him laying down on your lap, his eyes closed and his lips were slightly parted. The little flowers in his hair were vibrant against his ashen brown locks and a small pink dust coated his cheeks from the sun. You also didn’t forget to capture the way his muscles were showing through his shirt as his arms were flexed behind his head.
You could see Eren had minimized your post on his story, the phrase ‘mf whipped fr 🤝’ in blocky letter captioned underneath the post.
A sudden laugh caught Jean off guard as he watched your reaction. You knew Eren supported your relationship to the max, but that doesn’t mean he still can’t tease Jean about it.
Looking at his face, Jean was trying to hide his amused face under a glare.
“Relax, my little flower.” You cooed in a baby voice and gently squeezed his face under your palms. “I was just showing the world how much I love you…unless you’d rather me take it down?” Your eyebrow rose as you pouted. You knew he’d never ask you to that.
He let out a soft sigh and locked his phone. “No, don’t take it down. But you owe me! I need to post another video of me working out.”
You playfully rolled your eyes as Jeans thoughts were rambling out loud.
“I’ll invite Eren to work out with me, yeah. Then when we post the video, it’ll be obvious I’m bigger than him. God damn, I’m a genius.”
Standing up, you gave him a soft peck on the cheek before walking to the bathroom.
“I’m gonna do a face mask right now, babe.”
“Wait for me!”
#attack on titan#aot x reader#aot fluff#aot imagines#aot drabbles#aot headcanons#jean kirschtein x you#jean kirschstein#jean x you#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirschtein imagine#jean kirschtein headcanons#jean kirschtein fluff#jean kirschtein fanfiction#jean x y/n#jean kirstein#jean x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein scenarios#aot x gn!reader#aot x gender neutral reader
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Could I request s/o giving the boys snack boxes with Kaveh, Ayato, and Wriothesley?
Those were so so so cute!
Kaveh is overtly very curious about what you're putting together. If you ask him to his face he won't admit that he wants to know what you're doing. You eventually end up telling him that you're simply preparing some gifts for the people in your life. He doesn't want to ask you outright if he's included in that list because he'd 1) hate to assume he is and 2) be embarrassed if you say that he isn't and this is for some separate event wherein he's not the intended audience.
A few people who know the two of you come up to him and ask if he's gotten a gift from you and he simply laughs it off, not wanting to make things awkward for anybody. However, the thought of it still sits in the back of his mind as their questions roll around his head. It makes itself known in the pit of his stomach, trying to figure out how he can ask you about what's happening.
When you come back home you see him sitting on the couch, deliberating intensively about just that. You're not sure if you should interrupt him, the bag in your hand almost forgotten in the state of mild panic his intensive thinking taking precedence.
He hears you coming up to him and looks up, trying to string together the proper words to ask you why you aren't getting him anything. You can see the slight pout on his lips as he tries to get rid of it, laughing a little to yourself at his attempts. You brandish the bag to him at the same time, Kaveh's eyes lighting up while you explain you wanted to make him an extra special treat. You're rewarded with a tight hug and his insistence that the two of you eat everything right now.
Ayato doesn't mind too much. He knows you were running around putting gifts for some of your friends and to him, he just assumes it's simply something nice you just wanted to do for them. He doesn't want to interrupt you in your project so he's keeping his distance from it. After all, it'd be devastating if he accidentally destroyed the snacks you were so carefully trying to preserve for your friends.
He does make positive comments though, finding the smell wafting through the home to be very pleasant. He lives for the way you practically glow under his sweet praise, feeling just as satisfied as if you hand confessed your undying love for him once again.
He sees a specifically ornate box being kept to the side and out of curiosity, he starts to build up a list of the most likely receptions of that box. When he sees that it's gone one day he simply assumes that you've delivered it to your intended recipient, not thinking much of it and not realising that it's sitting in your shared bedroom one night.
You have to point it out to him, recognition dawning on him at the same time as him realising that you saved the most elaborate gift for him. He laughs to himself, opening the box and admiring the efforts you went through as he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sets it aside to save for an afternoon with you.
Wriothesley almost doesn't notice you're making something with his busy days until he finds a strange amount of bags sitting around waiting to be filled. You quickly explain what you're doing and he nods in understanding, smiling at how kind you are and leaves it at that.
He never really would expect you to give him anything so the thought that you might even make him one never crosses his mind. As far as he's concerned, you're just making some people some tasty treats as a show of appreciation.
When you come up to him with his own tasty treats in tow he gives you a warm smile and opens it up to see what you've made him. He'll ask if you've got a bit of time to spend with him, already getting up to brew some tea that he feels would perfectly compliment the treats you've made.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#ayato x reader#wriothesley x reader#kaveh x reader#ayato kamisato x reader
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Hey L saw your requests were open and was wondering if i can ask for regulus black dating headcanons? (You know one of those long, long headcanons that you can’t finish while reading bc i love reggie so much and there aren’t enough fics for him-)
Anyways. Love your works specially your remus series, a man with a plan 🥹 it’s so cute and very well written.
Mwah <3
Hey lovely!! Thanks so much for requesting - this was fun!! I love head canons. Hopefully this scratches that itch of yours
The formatting got messed up when I moved this from a word doc so my apologies - let me know if it's too difficult to follow: 💫 = head canon, -> subcategory, and anything indented is a sub-subcategory)
Dating Regulus Black Headcanons:
No voldemort AU, okay guys? I don’t fuck with that man.
💫Falling in love with the witty (sometimes snide), smart, and quiet Slytherin was as easy as breathing – actively loving this man was NOT easy in the slightest
💫It took you months of talking, ‘accidentally’ being in the same room as him, sitting beside him in potions or the library and forcing him to talk to you before he finally went “what are you doing?”
-> “I like you” you responded
-> “Why?” he asked incredulously. Which, fair enough; you suppose he didn’t make much effort to talk back to you, or reach out to you, or participate in your conversations, but that’s not what you liked about him anyway
You liked his stoicism, it brought a sense of calm to you
You liked how he didn’t always feel the need to fill the silence
You liked how clever he was, and how he (even if he pretended you were exasperating) helped you with your studies when you got stuck
You liked his snide comments he made about people under his breath, and how he got surprised when you laughed at them – not really realizing he said them aloud to you to begin with
You liked his loyalty and sense of duty to the people who were important to him
-> “I just do” you settled for with a shrug of your shoulders
-> That answer didn’t exactly satisfy Regulus, but he accepted it nonetheless
💫 He was a little bit more of a willing participant in your relationship after that
💫 You’d come out of classrooms to find him waiting for you so he could walk you to your next class or to the Great Hall together for lunch
💫 He’d always take a helping of your favourite food at breakfast/lunch/dinner just in case you wanted an extra serving, which he’d happily let you pick off of his plate
💫 He found out his brother was becoming an animagus during 4th year (though he didn’t know the reason) and took the attitude of “anything my brother can do, I can too.” And set out to become and animagus as well.
-> You wouldn’t let him do it alone, however
-> You both successfully became animagi and told no one.
💫 You guys never really discussed what the spending-time-with-each-other meant, Regulus had always been a little more than flighty in the past, and you didn’t want to scare him away.
💫 One evening, you were in an empty classroom trying to finish up a project where you could take up as much space as possible without bothering anyone when Regulus came bursting through the door
-> You don’t know how he even knew that you were here or how to find you, but he was clearly looking for you when his face crumpled when he found you
-> “Y/N” he whimpered
-> Without thinking, you threw your arms open, and he fell into your embrace
-> You sat in that classroom, holding Regulus as he sobbed into your chest for merlin knows how long, neither of you saying a word
-> He finally seemed to settle and pulled back from your embrace, though he wouldn’t make direct eye contact with you
-> “He left.” He said simply
-> “Who?”
-> “Sirius, he ran away this summer, never came back. I thought – ugh – I thought when I saw him at school, I could convince him to come back home, come back to…me…”
-> You let the silence permeate in the air as he gathered his thoughts
-> “He’s not coming back, he’s…he left me. There. With them.”
-> You weren’t sure what to say – you didn’t want to disparage his family, Sirius least of all, knowing how much Regulus admired his older brother whether he admitted that out loud or not, and you knew (at least what Regulus had been willing to share with you) what the Black’s had put those boys through.
-> You wanted to promise him he wasn’t alone – that he would always have Sirius, always have you – but it felt too much like a declaration, and you were too scared to do that when he was so fragile
You knew he’d likely not believe you anyway – thinking you only said it to him because he was desperate to hear it
-> You settled with a simple “I’m sorry, Reggie.” And another hug
💫 Over the Christmas holidays, a black cat with grey eyes showed up at your family home
-> You called out to him, and he seemed to faint; almost as if he knew it was safe now that he’d seen you
-> through the dark fur you could see some blood. You knew that what you couldn’t see underneath it would be far worse. You apologized to Regulus’ unconscious being before grabbing his animagus form and heading to the fireplace in your home, throwing a handful of floo powder into the hearth and calling for Potter Manor.
-> You were greeted by a well-dressed house elf
“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced. It’s an emergency. Is Sirius here?”
The house elf snapped her fingers and a few moments later reappeared with a sleep rumpled Sirius
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“It’s regulus.”
Sirius seemed to wake up rather quickly at that. “Is he okay?”
You gently placed the cat onto the ground and cast a quick finite over his form, causing the animal to stretch back into Regulus. Sure enough, he was bleeding and bruised, though thankfully, most of his wounds seemed superficial. But he was clearly gaunt – like he hadn’t been eating or sleeping, and he was passed out from sheer exhaustion.
💫 Regulus stayed with the Potter’s ever since. He wouldn’t speak to you for some time after that however, feeling slightly betrayed that you brought him to Sirius
-> “I came to you, Y/N. If I’d wanted Sirius’ help, I would have asked for it!”
-> “Like hell you would have! You’ve never once accepted a lick of respite from anyone in your life. Martyrdom doesn’t suit you, Regulus - grow up.”
-> “It was my choice to make!”
-> “You were unconscious! For all I knew, you could have been dying. I had to make that choice for the both of us!”
-> “Perhaps I made a mistake then.”
The ‘trusting you’ went unsaid, but you both heard it. It crushed you.
-> “Fuck you, Regulus. I’m done.”
💫 It was awkward back at school; you hadn’t realised that much of your daily rituals were accompanied by him
-> You stopped sitting at the spot he saved for you in the Great Hall – and eventually, you stopped eating in the Great Hall altogether, opting to visit the kitchens to eat instead.
-> He stopped waiting for you outside of classes, and he no longer carried your books around the castle.
-> He didn’t help you with your homework
-> You didn’t cheer him on in his Quidditch games
💫 Sirius approached you one day in the library
-> “Hiding from my brother in the library? Not a very good spot, love.”
-> “What do you want, Black?”
-> “Ouch, last names. What’d I ever do to you.”
-> You took a steadying breath – you wanted to lash out at him, but he was right, he wasn’t the one who hurt you
-> “What do you want?” you tried again
-> “We’re mean…the Black’s. We don’t…treat people very well. I don’t mean to make excuses; there is no excuse. But we weren’t treated very well ourselves. It takes a lot of unlearning.”
->You stared into his eerily similar grey eyes. “Is that all?”
-> “Hurt people, hurt people. And it’s usually the people we love the most, because they’re there. It’s not right, but I just thought you should know.” He offered you a sad smile and a squeeze of your shoulder before he left.
->You understood what he was saying, but it didn’t make you feel any better
💫 One of your housemates approached you with a package the next day. “You weren’t at breakfast, and the owl seemed very upset she couldn’t deliver this, so I promised her I’d bring this to you.”
-> It was a small square shaped package – pure white paper with a black bow on it
-> Inside was a small charm bracelet – silver – with one charm on it. A purple hyacinth. Constancy, regret, sincerity.
-> You shoved the bracelet in its box and into your bag and carried on with the rest of your day.
💫 “Y/N?” You heard him call quietly as he rapped twice on the door to the empty classroom you were holed up in
-> You turned to look at him with a glare you’re sure could have rivalled one of his
-> “I was hoping we could talk.” He continued as he made his way inside.
-> “Why? You think a gift makes everything okay again?”
-> Regulus grimaced as he sat across from you. “I’m not great at apologies.”
-> You scoffed. “Yeah, seeing as you haven’t actually made one…” You sat in an awkward sort of stare off before you shook your head and moved to pack your things
-> “Y/N, wait please. I-” he reached across the table and gently grabbed your wrist. You could see a small portion of a silver chain (matching the charm bracelet you had in your bag) on his wrist. “I’m sorry…I, I was wrong.”
-> You stopped your packing and watched him as he searched for the right words
-> “You saved my life that night. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I shouldn’t have blamed you for anything – I should have just thanked you. Better yet, I should have told you how much I love you.”
-> You felt your breath catch in your throat. “love me?” you whispered
-> Regulus nodded and pulled out two charms from his pocket: a yellow lily (gratitude) and a rose…that one was pretty self explanatory.
-> You pulled out the box from your bag and allowed Regulus to attach the charms and clasp it on your wrist.
-> “I don’t think I’m going to ever be as good at loving you as you deserve, and I know I’m not easy to love, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to try.”
-> You saw nothing but earnestness and determination in his eyes
-> “I forgive you.”
💫 Regulus is a HUGE gift giver – really the only way he ever saw ‘love’ (or the Black’s messed up version of it) was through giving/receiving gifts. So that’s the best way he was able to express his love for you
💫 You quickly learned that his love language (the way he received it) was through words of affirmation. He didn’t have anyone tell him he was loved, cherished, and appreciated growing up – you flustered him every time you complimented him. You delighted in the raging blush he’d get, especially if you whispered something in front of his friends.
-> You also gifted him his own charms for his bracelet that matched yours
💫 On nights you couldn’t sleep, you’d meet him in the Astronomy tower where he’d teach you the constellations and the mythology behind them.
💫 Black’s are very territorial, but I don’t see Regulus being super loud about it. Like he wouldn’t make loud proclamations of ‘ownership’ or love, but he’d always be there
-> Think, staring hard at the other person flirting with you in the Great Hall
-> Taking a lock of your hair and moving it behind your ear or just twirling it between his fingers if someone looks at you too long
💫 This man is SO unapproachable to everyone
-> Stony faced ALWAYS – major RBF
-> Scowls at people who stand too closely to him, talk too loudly, say something dumb
-> Did not let anyone touch him. Ever. Barty gets too close at breakfast = Barty ends up ass over tea kettle on the stone floor. Sirius throws an arm over his shoulder = Sirius getting an elbow to the gut
💫 So, you could imagine everyone’s surprise that when you come up from behind him where he’s sitting, lazily throw your arms over his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair, the man is practically purring. The softest smiles and eyes no one ever thought Regulus Black was capable of when he looked at you
-> “It’s like a different person. This isn’t the real Regulus, just some freaky clone.” Sirius once said.
💫 You blew his mind introducing him to muggle movies
-> He’s a crier at all sad parts – even animated movies
💫 And he kept his promise – you gave him the chance to try, and he spent the rest of his life trying to love you the way you deserved to be
#regulus black x you#regulus black x reader#regulus black#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#regulus deserved better#sirius and regulus#the black brothers#black brothers#regulus black deserved better#regulus black headcanons#dating regulus black#dating regulus black headcanons#animagus#ellecdc fics
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not good enough for you
where you feel insecure because you genuinely feel like you aren't good enough for him, but he thinks otherwise.
{CW!!: suggestive, mentions of reader wearing a skirt/dress but gn, different types of insecurities, js know you are stunning with all of that baes <3}
characters: ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, tighnari, and wanderer
- set in modern au for a few, ~1.2k words in total -
ayato: pillar of fortitude
you being insecure just influences his spending habits on you. it increases tremendously.
of course he'll comfort you, give you attention, all that jazz, but him?
he buys even more things he thinks you'll look absolutely lovely in.
dress shirts, dresses, skirts, shorts, literally anything that he might think you'll like he'll get it.
you walk out of your shared bedroom with your hands behind your back and your gaze cast to the floor timidly. ayato nearly choked on the boba he was drinking when his eyes laid on you. the way you looked up at him with your eyes all the way to how you stood, he thought you looked ethereal. "my love, how could you be insecure when you look so lovely?" he pulls you into his arms, hands going down your waist. "are you sure? " you mumbled, your eyes focused on the ground. rubbing over your hip dips before cupping your ass, ayato used his other hand to make you look up at him. "you have nothing to worry about.. let me spoil you."
childe: tartaglia (did my man WRONG)
he honestly thinks you're joking when you first tell him, that's how good looking you are.
he hypes you up a LOT more than usual, making sure you feel extra special before anything.
being so fr, he's the type to comment first and most under your instagram posts
most definitely brags about you on his socials as well, has a highlight for you and everything
cyno: judicator of secrets
"childe, why am i getting hundreds of notifications? from YOUR account?" your boyfriend shrugs as if he doesn't know what he did, replying with a simple, "just making you feel good, that's all." after going to the notifications, your heart gets more and more full as you read the compliments he paints your phone screen with. they all came with such love and adoration which varies from "THATS MY S/O RIGHT THERE YOU GUYS!!!" to dumb pick up lines that have you rolling your eyes. you smile softly as you like every single one of his comments, pinning one at the top of your post. despite his cheesiness, you know from all of these that childe truly does think you're the prettiest.
his jokes slowly turn into cheesy pick up lines about how pretty you are, like those REALLY bad ones
its sort of misleading at first and makes you think he's doesn't care, and trust me he does! he's just bad at words of affirmation
not to mention, i believe he tells you you're so pretty and amazing and beautiful and just EVERYTHING in bed
he's totally up for fucking you in front of a mirror to get it through your head about how pretty you are
when he walks into your small shared apartment after a grocery run, he sees you staring into the mirror. you're poking your stomach fat around your belly button, sighing softly. he comes up behind you, kissing your neck softly as he wraps his arms around your hips. cyno digs in his pocket to pull out a small card, before saying, "good thing i have my library card, because i'm checking you out." you look up at him with an attempt at a deadpan, which morphs into a moan as he starts touching your hips, slowly going lower. "if you can't understand how gorgeous you are, i'll make sure you know by tonight."
diluc: the dark side of dawn
he would for sure be such a good person to talk to about your insecurities to and receive comfort
i think that when he was younger, he was also a little insecure about his appearance because of his hair and eyes, since it wasn't normal (i js know that when kaeya came around he got less and less insecure as he grew up but THIS ISNT ABT THEM.)
he would kiss every insecurity and go on rants about how much he loves them, because he loves every part of you
for the sex life? things like stretch marks make him go FERAL. literally all of your beautiful insecurities make him FERAL
as you let out a small moan, diluc spreads your legs open and start kissing up and down your thighs. your stretch marks were more prominent in the moonlight coming from the window, and that alone made him hard. "you're so beautiful my dear.." he took his finger and traced over them. when you looked down, your eyes widen to see him, looking at them like how people look at constellations in the sky. looking at them with such admiration, diluc kissed them over and over. "so pretty.. let me make your pretty body feel good."
tighnari: verdant strider
he would 100% accidently turn it into a lecture about self-confidence and would go on and ON
after knowing about your insecurities, he would bring flowers from his research and give them to you, they reminded him of you
although he would comfort you plenty, he is one sassy ass fox so he would be very sarcastic when you do bring yourself down
he would list all of your achievements while calling you the dumbest person he's ever met
"yeah you are pretty dumb now that i think about it." your heart dropped as those words came out of his mouth. before you can say something, tighnari continues. "it's not like you won the nationwide botany fair for sumeru or anything." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "but you were my partner! of course we got won." he rolled his eyes before looking at you with a deadpan expression; "did you forget i was sick the whole time? you had to do it by yourself." a shy "oh" left your lips while his arm wrapped around your waist. "have more confidence in yourself you big lummox."
wanderer: eons adrift (named kunikuzushi for convenience)
he's like tighnari in a way, but much more heavy on the sarcastic and snide comments
he can't really comfort you because he can't even believe that he's good enough for you
tries his best though, always makes an effort to compliment you, even if the compliment is very choppy
isn't the best person to go to for insecurities plaguing your mind but it's nice to be around him anyways
you yelp in pain as kunikuzushi flicks your forehead out of annoyance. "shut it, you're giving me a headache." you sigh, "i'm being serious kuni, i really don't think that i look good enough for you." as your teary eyes dart to the ground, you feel his arms wrap around you. "you are so annoying.. of course your good enough. more than good enough you dumb fuck." you smile a little at his harsh words, knowing that's his way of comfort. while trying to stop your tears from falling, you couldn't hear his soft words in your hair. "you're so fucking pretty, i hate when you say otherwise dumbass."
written 3/20/23 || credits go to me || asks open <3
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin comfort#genshin scenarios#genshin ayato#ayato kamisato#kamisato ayato#ayato x reader#cyno x reader#cyno imagines#genshin cyno#genshin childe#childe x reader#tartaglia#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#tighnari x reader#tighnari#genshin tighnari#wanderer#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#genshin scara#scara#genshin scaramouche
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18+ / mdi
a member finding your nudes - 96 line
95 line, 96 line, 97 line, maknae line
wc: 1818
masterlist
jun -
jun was extremely close to all seventeen members, considering them all basically his blood brothers. although he felt this special connection to all of them, he couldnt help but feel a little extra close to minghao, sharing a language with him and being able to speak to him as freely as possible. this special sense of closeness between them allowed jun to come to minghao for advice whenever he wanted to edit a special vlog for carats, trusting his artistic advice more than anyone else.
as the two sat next to one another and fiddled with jun's phone, a notification from you arrived. on pure accident, minghao's fingers tapped the top of the screen just as the notification arrived, causing the text bubble to open up in the imessage app. unfortunately for jun, this was not one of the usual light-hearted and sweet messages you'd usually send him while he was away at the company.
no, this was a picture of you, fully nude, with a text attached asking him to hurry home and take care of you.
minghao was not an easy man to fluster, but jun had now come to find out that if he ever wanted to make the younger blush, your nude body would do just fine to get the job done. although embarrassed at the accidental intrusion, jun couldnt help but feel a sense of pride at minghao's reaction, knowing that his pretty girlfriend not only had such an effect on himself, but seemingly even on the stoic man sitting by his side.
this pride was short-lived, however, as the bashfulness grew in him, heating up at both the implications of your message and at the awkward conversation that would now follow between him and his friend.
"i- sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. he gently took the phone from his hands and put it in his back pocket, "i-"
"dont say anything. i'm .. i'm just gonna go," replied hao in a strained voice, hurriedly exiting the room and wondering how he would ever make eye contact with jun's pretty girl from now on.
soonyoung -
many thought that soonyoung was a little air-headed at times. it wasnt that he was dumb, no, he was actually quite smart, but he occasionally tended to let his actions come before allowing himself a chance to think.
this was one of those many instances.
due to some delays at the venue in which seventeen was currently promoting their new comeback at, the thirteen members were asked to wait in the changing/waiting room as the venue's staff figured out the issues preventing them from continuing the show as usual.
sitting between seokmin and seungkwan, soonyoung decided this might be the best time to take some pictures, considering that he was dressed up and had his hair and makeup all done. better now than after performing, when he would be all sweaty and disheveled, right? he, however, did not have his usual instagram phone on him, so he opted to use his personal one for the photos, reasoning that he could just send them to himself later.
he signaled for dokyeom's help, handing him his phone and finding a place to do his classic leaned back, hand in pocket pose, showing off his pretty outfit. after a few shots, both members sat back down and soonyoung looked at the photos, wondering which ones carats would like best. as he swiped through the dozens of new shots, he leaned back and allowed seungkwan and dokyeom to look at the images and even comment on which were best.
having completely forgotten that this was his personal phone, hoshi made the grave mistake of swiping one too many times, landing himself on a pretty picture you had just sent him the previous night. if it had been a regular picture, it wouldve simply earned an 'aw' from seungkwan and dokyeom, and maybe even an 'aigoo' from jeoghan who was now standing behind the couch looking over his shoulder. this picture, however, was not your average picture. this image showcased you laying on your side, boobs pressed together under the thin sheer fabric of baby blue lingerie that gave the perfect view of your nipples through the fabric.
okay, it couldve been worse. it couldve been an entirely nude pic, but despite the level of explicitness of the picture, soonyoung immediately panicked. in a frantic state, he attempted to exit out of the image, only to accidentally open up the photos app, where the miniatures of the many other nudes you had sent him that night stared back at him and his group mates. as a last desperate resort, soonyoung decided to just switch his phone off and flip it around just for good measure.
across the room, mingyu stared in curiosity at the scene, seeing four of his group mates with widened eyes. jeonghan held a shocked, but satisfied smirk, while seungkwan looked as scandalized as ever. hoshi and dokyeom shared a similar pale look as if theyd seen a ghost, making mingyu wonder what theyd just seen.
hoshi had never felt more flustered in his life (and that was saying something), fearing the stern scolding he would receive from seungcheol and from you for being careless enough to use his personal phone and accidentally exposing his girlfriend to his unsuspecting members.
wonwoo -
wonwoo always saw chan as a little brother. someone who could do no wrong in his eyes. which is why he trusted him with basically everything. he mightve been a few years younger, but wonwoo always thought of him as responsible and respected him as much as he would someone his age, trusting him with his belongings, even.
having a short dance break together in the most recent comeback, chan and wonwoo decided to arrive to practice earlier in order to get in tune with each other and not take up any designated rehearsal time for the group as a whole. a little over an hour had already gone by, leaving both members sweaty and in need of a break. while wonwoo dabbed away his sweat, chan sat down for a bit, going on his phone. that was when wonwoo's phone started to chime, short breaks between each vibration of the phone, signaling multiple messages.
"check that for me, will you?", said wonwoo absentmindedly, walking in the other direction to retrieve a water bottle from nearby.
chan followed his senior's orders without thinking too much of it, unlocking his phone and swiping up. he assumed itd be one of the other members or maybe wonwoo's dad checking in. what he didnt expect, however, was a row of messages from wonwoo's girlfriend, with a pretty ... explicit picture attached to it.
nonuuuu
you left without saying goodbye :((
shouldve waken me up, i couldve given u a little something ;)
*two picture attachments*
im aching for u :((( gonna miss u all day now :c'
the pictures detailed almost the entirety of your naked body, pretty tits being groped by your hands while you wore soft pink (was that silk ..?) panties. despite not wanting to disrespect wonwoo or his girlfriend, chan gulped, unable to take his eyes away from the messages.
".. chan? chan!"
chan's attention finally diverted from the small screen in his hands.
"who is it?"
"oh, i ... its just. uh, its your girlfriend," he stutters, extending wonwoo's phone out to him, fearing for his reaction.
wonwoo finally took a look at his messages, eyes widening, instantly putting it away as if it had burned him, "oh. just .. ignore that. it's not .. uhh, okay, anyways. we should get back to practicing," wonwoo tried to salvage the awkward situation without further embarrassing chan or his girlfriend or himself.
the two stood there awkwardly trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and the arousal you had inadvertently caused the two of them), thanking god at the timing of the rest of the members who were now finally walking in to join them.
"what's up," said an unsuspecting mingyu as he walked towards them, ready to rehearse.
jihoon -
soonyoung had the tendency of dropping by jihoon's studio unannounced pretty often. many of those times would be while jihoon himself was away. why jihoon gave hoshi the passcode to his studio, he didnt know, but it was now all said and done and there wasnt much he could do about it anymore. dont get him wrong, he enjoyed having his friend visit, but he also desired some alone time while working.
today was one of the many instances in which jihoon had to step out, leaving his studio locked, not thinking anyone would walk in in his absence. soonyoung, however, had different plans. as per usual, whenever the day seemed to slow down for him, soonyoung would waltz into woozi's universe factory and hang out while he watched him work, with today being one of those days.
he didnt pay much mind to jihoon's absence as he laid back on the couch and went on his phone while waiting for his friend's return. he stayed like this for a few minutes until he heard the chime of jihoon's phone on his desk. he ignored it, not being too interested by it. then the chime repeated. once. twice. three times. four, five, over the next few minutes. okay, now that caught his attention. being so close to jihoon, soonyoung didnt consider this snooping, reasoning that this was his best friend. what could there possibly be on his phone that he couldnt check simply out of sheer curiosity? thats when he made his first mistake.
he picked up his phone, tapping in jihoon's password and swiped up on the messages without thinking much of it. that's when he made his second mistake. his eyes widened like saucers at the messages in front of him, even more so at the image attached to it. what he was now seeing was a picture of you, shirtless and pushing your tits up while making a kissy face at the camera.
jihoonieeee
are u still at the studio ??'
*image attachment*
dont u wanna come see me? ill make it worth ur while <3'
hoshi made his third mistake of the day when he unconsciously decided to keep his eyes glued to the phone, failing to notice the arrival of his friend, who immediately took note of his phone in the hands of someone who wasnt its owner.
"soonyoung what the hell are you- HUH?", jihoon didnt even have a chance to finish his sentence before interrupting himself upon taking a look at what seemingly had his senior in a trance. "GIVE ME THAT! what are you doing?! get out!" he hissed as he physically pushed his friend out of the room, locking it as he muttered in annoyance at his nosy friend.
still in a trance, hoshi found himself dumbfounded, standing alone in the hallway, now having a totally different perception of jihoon's pretty girlfriend.
a/n: not proofread!! will get to 97 and maknae line soon i promise T-T
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt fanfic#svt smut#seventeen imagine#svt x reader#jihoon fanfic#jihoon x reader#jihoon smut#woozi fanfic#woozi x reader#woozi smut#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fanfic#hoshi fanfic#hoshi smut#hoshi x reader#jun x reader#jun fanfic#jun smut#seventeen reactions#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo x reader
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meine Sonne
“Why do you keep waiting for him?”
The sunsets are the colours of violet on the metropolis and the drink in your hand has long gone cold. Winters in London are brutal; rainy days and grey skies overcast with the doubts in the heart—forlornly watching the future become present.
“Schatz, I want to know.” The Austrian flag on his arm, with some of its thread loose from the physicality of his job, never once replaced as the man held your patchwork on his uniform as always. He always said, it’s from you—that’s what makes it special.
The patch had been with him through heaven and hell and now, it brings him to the Sky Garden dome in London. The poignant stares are nothing to him as he rests a palm on yours between plates of half finished meals.
His heart is twisting so painfully and pulling into dead knots when he spots the glisten near your eyes and the restraint it takes to hold back, knowing that he hasn’t yet earned the right to wipe away those tears of someone else’s making.
“I don’t know.” He moves closer and you finish the drink in one go and gloved hands take the glass away from you before it could fall through your fingers and go smashing into the marble flooring.
“I guess I thought I had a chance with him. I—hic—I-He told me I was worth it, once. Back during the mission in Siberia, he came back for me. Even if everyone told him not to, he still came back and I—I just thought we had something.”
König listens.
“I keep waiting for him, because one day, I don’t fucking know, I wish he would just see me—see that I’m here. That I am here, waiting for him. All of his extra duties, I take them. I do everything to show him that I-I care about him and he—”
“He never acknowledges them. He knows I am the one doing all of this for him and yet …”
König grasp on your palm tightens and he offers a napkin.
“Y-you shouldn’t have to hear about this. I’m sorry, König.” The bellow in his throat is building to a fervour; all the words he wanted to say, locked away behind a wall he’s built with his own hands.
For once, König wishes to live without the social anxiety that’s come to shadow his existence.
“It’s not right”—he speaks with such conviction and the mask around his face shifts with the rippling flesh underneath—“it’s not right, what he’s doing to you.”
“I just … keep waiting for him and he never looks back. Not since his sergeant met his death two months ago.”
John MacTavish. König has heard of him before, in passing comment.
“I keep holding out for hope; hope that he would at the very least, tell me, if he isn’t interested at all. His glances make me stay, even if he shows it to others. A few months ago, he even made a toast during a Christmas party. He said my name, you know? I thought I was dreaming, but it was my name he spoke.”
I thought we had something, unspoken.
It’s the hope that destroys us all—König knows this, knows this all too well.
“He gives you just enough attention to keep you wanting him, but never enough to make a move.”
You grimace is sardonic and you agree with him.
“Yeah. I … Is it so much to ask for to be loved?”
No, it’s not, schatz.
“This relationship? It’s not healthy and you … you don’t deserve this. Not you, you deserve far better. Far better than a man who would lead you on, and never give you anything in return.”
“Who else could love me, König?”
Me.
“Don’t say that. I … you are worthy of someone better. You are.” He wishes for the strength to say he could.
The crackle and burst of tangerine and purple across the space draws your attention to the fireworks outside. Cold whips across your jacket and König settles beside you and the night sky lights up with fireworks showering London in splendour you once felt seeing Ghost.
Not anymore. Not ever since that day when he took everything away with him into the afterlife.
Fur tickles your face and a heavy weight settles on your shoulders and it’s warm. König pulls the jacket tighter around you and streaks of gold fireworks echo in his eyes in trails of comet dust of longing.
“You always did love the gold ones. Remember in university? In Norway on new year’s eve, how our friends made fun of us for our awful pronunciation and you said something like … ish leeber dick?”
“Ich liebe dich.”
“Yeah, that one. Could never understand what it meant.”
“It … it means I love you.”
His eyes widen and hope—hope is a firecracker in his hands lit and burning with a fuse to no return; time to detonation is nigh.
“What?”
“Verdammt … I—I … fuck …”
He looks anywhere but at you and when he makes a move, his hands are with yours and his eyes are overwhelmed with emotion in depths of blue seas.
“I … schatz, I … I know it’s not my place to comment on your relationship with Ghost but he isn’t a good partner. You deserve more, more than what he gives you and with the sincerity of someone who wants, loves you.”
He presses on, afraid if he stopped he would never start again.
“Your love is not second rate, second class or anything.” He drops your hands to grasp your arms. “I … I can’t stand watching your throw your love away like that. Not when I’m here.”
His jacket is warm with more than just the heat of the man.
“It’s not fair to make you compete with a dead man for love. It’s not right and Stärke, I—I am here. And … I want to show you what love can be.”
“What love can be?”
“If you let me, liebling.”
Impossibly soft and brimming with yearning, the fuse burns through and the world explodes into colour. Of tears and light overpowering the shadows following him since youth into oblivion, König’s scarred lips are pressed against yours in repressed longing and you are pulled in close by his arm around your back.
Finally, he wipes away the tears and love tastes like the chap stick König uses and more. It’s indescribable, with it depth and intangible strings and he holds on tightly with all of his being.
“Your patch is fraying, König.”
“I’ve got you to fix it up for me.”
Ich liebe dich so sehr, meine Liebe. Du strahlst mit den Farben der Sonne. Ich bin so glücklich, dich in meinem Leben zu haben.
Sei mein und nur mein, Liebling.
Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist
#fanfic#call of duty#cod mw2#cod x reader#cod x male reader#x male reader#konig x male reader#könig x male reader#könig cod#konig fanfiction#könig mw2#konig x reader#könig x reader
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With Love From
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~800
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x wife reader that she spoiled and pampering him to much but she don’t cared and she love giving him love, attention, affection, and etc all things him always dreamed?. something cute and fluffy because him deserve all the love from the world.
Summary: You take Dean on a much-needed vacation and give him everything he wants and deserves.
Square Filled: driving in the impala (2022) for @spndeanbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
“Got your pajamas?”
“Yes.”
“Toothbrush and toothpaste?”
“Yes.”
“What about your chargers? I put an extra one in your bag just in case.”
“What are you, my mom?” Dean jokes. “Yes, I have everything.”
“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you’ve forgotten something and ask to use my toothbrush. I won’t do it again.”
“That was one time.”
“One time too many. We’ve done a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but sharing a toothbrush is gonna be a no for me.”
“Yes, I have everything. Why are you bugging out? You’re never like this whenever we go on a hunt.”
Dean takes both yours and his bags to the library where Sam is. He has his laptop and plenty of books all around him. There is a case not far from here that he is reading up on since he is going to be the one to tackle this case.
“We’re not going on a hunt,” you reveal when he sets the bags on the table.
“What?”
“We’re not going on a hunt.”
“Sam’s been working like crazy about this case a few towns over.”
“Yeah because he’s going to be the one to take care of it. We’re not.”
“Sam, what is she talking about?” Dean asks.
“Dude, I am just as clueless as you,” he chuckles and closes his laptop. “All I know is that I’m doing this one solo.”
“If we’re not going on a hunt, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You know I hate surprises,” Dean practically whines.
“Well, you’re getting one today. No hunt. No monsters. Definitely alcohol. Does that sound like a great time?” you smile.
“Sounds like a Saturday to me.”
“Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” You see the look on Dean’s face and immediately shuts down what he is going to say next. “If Sam needs help, he can call Garth.”
“Yeah, go have fun. I got this,” Sam backs you up.
You and Dean pack up the Impala and say your goodbyes to Sam who barely waves you two off. Dean is always the driver unless otherwise preoccupied, so he gets behind the wheel even though he has no idea where he’s going. You’re going to be the navigator for this special trip, only telling him what turns to make right before he needs to do them.
“Shall I put on the special playlist?”
“Special playlist? What’s the occasion?”
“I love you. Is that enough?”
“More than enough,” he smiles.
His special playlist consists of songs he could listen to on repeat for hours. Sam doesn’t let him put the playlist on since Sam complains he needs to listen to more than just classic rock. He claims they all sound the same even though each has their own unique sound.
About halfway through the trip, you stopped to get food at Dean’s favorite diner. He often comes here while on hunts even if it’s hours out of the way. There’s something about the way they make their burgers that has his mouth watering every single time.
“Okay, tell me where we’re going,” Dean chuckles with his mouth full.
“I told you it’s a surprise,” you smile. “You’re going to love it.”
Dean has no choice but to trust you. Once you two get done eating, you get back on the road and tough out the last half of the trip. You took over driving for the last hour just so he wouldn’t be suspicious of where you two were going but as soon as Dean sees the town’s name, he gets so excited.
“Wait, we’re in Mt. Sterling?”
“Yeah.”
You drive to one of the best gun stores in America. They have such a high rating since people from all over the country come here just to buy guns. Dean has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you figure it’s time to bring him. Dean is practically bouncing in his seat when you park, and he jumps out of the car in excitement.
You watch him run into the store with a smile on your face, and you make sure the car is locked before following him inside. He is like a child loose in a candy store or a toy store. He is admiring all of the guns on display, holding them just to feel how they would fit in his hands.
“Pick any you want. I’ll get it for you.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you so much,” he grins and kisses you.
Seeing him so happy brings you so much joy. He doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to be this happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be this happy most of the time, so taking time to give him this is very important. He channels his inner child and goes wild. He settled on another handgun that closely resembles the one he has now, but it has a silencer on the end of it which will make for easy hunting.
After he got all that excitement out, you two headed to the bar across the street to have a few rounds on you.
“How the hell did I ever get so lucky?” he smiles.
“I’m the lucky one, my love. You deserve all the love in the world.”
Dean leans in and kisses you, happy to be yours.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fiction#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fan fic#supernatural#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fluff#spn#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#spn fluff
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kinktober day twenty-one: impact play kink
>>> this right here is my girl dinner. i need him so so so so so so so so so so so so bad like PLEASE bakugou when you see this baby come home the kids miss you 😢
>>> starring: katsuki bakugou x curvy!f!reader
>>>cw: fwb to lovers, impact play through spankings, choking, holding your head down, multiple rounds, breeding, one pregnancy comment, jealous katsuki, degradation, praise.
>>>wc: 3k
>>> event masterlist
you were the most annoying person he’s ever met, and that’s saying something. he would willingly dethrone even himself to crown you the biggest bitch in the entire world. maybe it was because you were a foreign exchange pro-hero sent to mingle and visit for relations between japan and your home country—though you’ve far overstayed your welcome. maybe it was because your quirk seemed to give you some air of importance like you were just as good if not better than everyone else, but either way, you were intolerable—at least he tried to pretend you were.
everyone else was eating you up though, as always. kirishima was dumb enough to follow you around with heart eyes, shouto knew how to play it cool enough—but bakugou knew he was vying for your attention. even shinsou and monoma gathered around to gawk at the way your hero uniform clings to your body like a second skin. they should all be embarrassed. you’re assigned to work at his agency anyway—there was no point in sweet talking you. you belong to him. at least, at work—and he hated it.
it was a special layer of hell to have you at his side. you were bossy, bubbly, and absolutely brilliant. your body was irritatingly perfect. his suit was tight too, you know, and raging boners as he carts around his guest was hardly his ideal patrol. you’re unafraid of getting your hands dirty and you’re even less afraid of him—which he lov—enjoys very much. you match his mouth and have never once backed down, which is probably why he’s so perplexed and fascinated and for the lack of better word—or maybe just the right one—obsessed with you.
you’re smart enough to know it, too. you smile extra big when you bring him breakfast every morning and you perch at the edge of his desk just to hear him grumble at you. you let him kiss you and feel your body, but you don’t let him call you his. you aggravate him on purpose, enjoying the way his eye twitches and his nose scrunches before he starts tearing you a new one. you know very well the effect you have on katsuki bakugou, so why do you toy with him like this instead of just ending his suffering?? why do you let your fan club follow you around in his agency when you could be sitting in his lap making out with him in between mountains of paperwork like usual—but no, you’re being way too flirty with kirishima for his liking.
all well and good, they know better than to touch you—at least he thought they did. but clearly monoma has no idea what lengths bakugou will go to to prove that despite your airy behavior—you’re his and his alone.
as soon as he sees monoma’s arm wrap around your waist, he’s standing in front of you, arms folded over his broad chest and arched eyebrow nearly lost between the spiky tufts of ash blonde hanging over his forehead. he’s waiting for you to denounce the behavior—not because he needs you to, but because he wants to see just how far your brattiness goes. you smile at him with those heart eyes, but ultimately choose to say, “hi dynamight. did you need something?”
oh goddamn, he’s fuming. apparently your brattiness knows no bounds. he can feel the steam pouring out of his ears as he grabs onto your wrist, nodding. “yeah—need my bratty little skank in my office right now.”
“ooh somebody’s madddd.” you giggle, though the other heroes seem surprised that he spoke to you that way. all it does is make your pussy tingle—you’re truly shameless and just as annoying as he claims you are. “don’t worry boys, it’s a loving pet name, i promise.”
he doesn’t let you explain further, deciding he isn’t going to chance you misbehaving. he lifts you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of laundry. the gesture gives you butterflies—by no means are you petite, yet he throws you around like you weigh next to nothing.
you dangle over his back, waving goodbye to all the hopeful toys you’ve used as a means to this end—to drive him so crazy he just has to claim you in front of everyone. and thank god this worked.
see katsuki may act like you’re the problem, but he’s no saint. he has women bowing at his feet now that he’s a six foot four two hundred and fifty pound top of the leaderboards pro-hero—not that he gives them the time of day. the problem is, he wants to be private, or in other words, a secret. you’re not down with that. the paparazzi follow you regardless, what difference does it make if the world knows? it only gives you the right to crush those rude bitches that went to school with bakugou that try to sing their praises now. fans are fans—you hate the other sidekicks and heroes and friends that eye him right in front of you—all because no one knows that you’re a thing.
so if that’s how he wanted to play, you’d make sure you won.
though winning is subjective, and bakugou clearly thinks he’s coming out on top. he stomps to the elevators with you hanging off of him like an accessory, but his anger still bubbles over his face. he grimaces at his peers, his firm grip on your ass should be enough to send a message but he won’t be done there. no, he won’t stop until your screaming is bouncing off every wall of his agency or until he has to pay fines for noise violations and workplace harassment. he won’t stop until you’re broken of your behavior.
the elevator doors aren’t open all the way before he’s sliding out of them, grumbling about your behavior.
“are ya fuckin’ dumb, princess?” he shakes his head, palming your ass. “wh’kinda man ya think i am? just gonna let my bitch flirt with some fuckin’ extras in front of my face? you must not know me very well.”
“big talk, hot shot.” you huff, your voice vibrating a little with each heavy step he took towards his office. you repress your giddiness. “finally change your mind? you want people to know i’m yours now, huh?”
you’re clever. he’ll have to give you that. in his rage, he hadn’t noticed that he all but confirmed those workplace rumors—that this will leak to tmz in a few hours anyway and all his moping and sneaking and stewing over you was pointless. because in the end he is a beast of nature, and can’t handle anyone having even a fraction of what’s his. this is as close as they’ll ever get, he thinks to himself as he shoves you over his desk—not patient enough to fiddle with the zipper of your hero costume. he is a strong enough man to pull it apart though, shredding it to pieces and grunting in approval of your nakedness before him.
“yeah smartass, i changed my mind. gonna make sure everyone knows yer mine.” he groans, so many ideas of how to get you wailing and declaring your love for him rush to his mind. you’re biting your lip already, hoping he has you bent over like this for a reason. you hear his gauntlets clank together on the ground, and you wiggle your behind in the air excitedly.
“don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy..” you giggle, throwing that out to help your case. he knows you’re still bratty, not nearly worn down enough to be his babbling baby girl just yet. he smirks anyways, clever all on his own. his eyes focus on those perfect globes of your ass jiggling before him. you love his hands on you, warmed with his quirk with just enough spark and pressure to turn you to mush in just a few minutes. coincidentally enough he loves turning your ass into a custom painting of his own doing—and you get so noisy when he spanks you, that it’s clearly the best option.
“i’m not threatening, skank.” he pops your ass once, just a touch of warmth to your skin. you jolt forward, humming at the pleasant buzz. “tryin’ to get me all worked up in front of my friends?”
“oh they’re your friends now? i thought they were just extras.” you taunt, stretching your arms out in front of you to lay your face against the cool wood of his desk. his hand grows warmer and a little harder as it hits your ass in the same spot as before, a matching one falling to your other cheek within a second. it makes you squeal out a bit in glee, the sting was addictive.
“both, depending on how i feel—mouthy brat.” he huffs, though he is admittedly amused. he relishes your sweet little moans as he smacks your skin in rapid succession, his hands steadying their heat with each collision. as he smacks harder, your skin broken and bruised in the shape of his hand—you still moan in pleasure, getting louder the harsher he got. “this is all my little whore wanted hah? not’ta be able to sid’down all day?” he chuffs happily, giving you three more harsh smacks in a row, all to the same spot. you’re whining at the top of your lungs, making him smile successfully.
“mhm! yes daddy—jus’ wanted your attention~” you purr, his ownership of you bouncing off the walls and hopefully echoing downstairs to those shitty betas who put their hands all over you—kirishima would be dealt with separately.
his hands are so hot and blistering, the force enough to physically ripple your fat cheeks. it makes tears spring to your eyes and you shake your head in submission, throwing in the towel as your skin welts up before his lidded eyes. he slides warm fingers between your legs, swiping at your cunt. he cackles at the slick dribbling down his fingers when he pulls away.
“soaked. geezus, just from fuckin’ whoopin’ ya.” he licks his teeth, thinking of all the ways he could take you against his desk, but decides to start with a little reprieve for you. his suit is peeled back effortlessly, curved hard on gathering all the slick that littered your thighs and dripped from your pretty hole. “ain’t even gotta finger ya open, bet my greedy princess has been plannin’ this all day, hah?”
you can’t restrain your confirming giggle, your head already in the clouds just from his handling. it was moderately embarrassing how easy it was for him to work you up, but he supposed that was some sort of payback for how easily you consume his every waking thought—and some of the sleeping ones too.
he chuckles, kicking your legs a little wider so he can take you just like this. you gasp in excitement, smiling greedily as his tip catches on your clit before dipping to your entrance and back again. he played your game, so you could play his and beg like he wants you to.
“stop teasin’ me daddy.” you pout, tossing him that soft stare over your shoulder—the very same one that makes his heart stop each and every time. it will never get old, clearly. “please…been wet for you all day.” you bat your lashes.
fuck, you’re getting it. he puts his hand on the back of your neck and pushes your face to the desk, slipping his girth in your puckering hole without any ceremony. his other hand wraps under your hip to keep you from collapsing as you squeeze down and adjust to him like it’s the first time you’ve ever experienced his length splitting you open. you gasp for breath, straight hot fire melting into a tingling warmth requiring all your concentration.
“oh what’s a matter brat? goin’ quiet on me.” he grins his satisfaction, drilling into you without remorse. you feel him bumping against your womb, tearing at that entrance that he shouldn’t have access to. it hurts, he’s drilling you into jelly and you can only grab at the desk in a vain effort to ground yourself.
on command, your voice returns to you. you cry out your pained pleasure, nails scraping at the desk as every drag of his cockhead against your cervix had you tearing up. you can’t form words, and he doesn’t care. it’s too delicious—you’re too fucking tight for him to control himself, there’s just no way he could hold himself back when you’re so loud and absolutely drenched just to make all this easier on him. he angles one of your legs up on the desk, turning his curved shaft towards your spongy relief. your moans are even sweeter, heat flooding every sense in a mixture of something natural and something influenced by your lover’s quirk.
“yes! yesyesyes ohmygod yes daddy!” you scream, your throat ached from the sheer power behind it, your pretty little pussy kept fluttering around him as it stretches to fit him.
“better not cum. yer gonna hold it.” he commands, smacking some of that tender skin from earlier. you nearly fold at the impact, you whimper at the outrageous demand, shaking your head quickly to tell him you couldn’t possibly hold this back—the way he abuses your cunt was too intense to control your response. “if you cum—“
you can’t listen. it was all his fault anyway—fucking you like that and expecting you to be able to do anything but cream all over him.
“dumb brat.” he sighs, eyes fixated on your drooling hole leaving a pretty white ring of your essence along his shaft and coating his dark pubes. he shoves some of the extra shit off his desk, shoving you all the way on it once it’s barren. he puts you on your back like you’re a doll to position—holding your legs straight in his massive hands. you wince when your ass contacts the cold wood, “ya coulda got off easy—you just keep makin’ it hard on yerself.”
you mewl as he pins your hips to the surface below, his palms splayed across your abdomen—making every poke of his rod feel that much more intense. you grip his forearms; you were nearly crying already—then katsuki moves his hand to your clit, using the heel of his palm to send you into overstimulated jerks. “now you better learn to fuckin’ listen ‘r i’m cummin’ in that trashcan beside ya.” he snorts.
you cry out at the threat, nodding your understanding. what an evil thing to say—he knows you feel that much more complete after getting his load—like he’s giving you all his love and trust without him having to say a thing at all. you can’t let him take away your favorite part, so you clench your thighs and try to think about anything other than the beautiful ridges of his cock sliding in you like you’re nothing but a sleeve for him to use. you try, but his raspy grunts and groans in your ear keep you wailing and clawing at him desperately.
“can’t hold it daddy—too good! too much, pleasepleaseplease~” you cry, eyes screwed shut tight in pleasure as your body bounces around him with every devious pump of his cock. you feel so good to him, every clamp of your walls has him wondering how he hadn’t busted all up in your shit anyway.
“fine. now.” he orders, feeling the rush of your release and his control over you all in the same moment. it’s exhilarating, and you’re so picture perfect that he’s filling you up seconds later, his threat earlier as empty as they come. this was his pussy, and he would fuck it stupid and full and then send you back downstairs to your stupid fan club.
he stays hard, fucking into you relentlessly. hearing your sopping wet cunt squelch from being so full of his load combined with your elicit high pitched moans kept him thrusting like he hadn’t just reached one end.
“think you were getting off that easy, my little skank princess?” he mocks, dragging your limp body to the edge of the desk to give him full control of your hips. “i wanna hear how loud you can go. gonna fill this greedy little cunt up again.”
you nod, feeling his length shove everything deeper—cum so far down you’re sure you’re pregnant already. you wail your sensitivity, a mess of babbles and broken sobs. even as spent as you are, your gorgeous face twisted with satisfaction and your lips still called for him so perfectly. his hand finds it’s way to your throat, curses rolling past his own curved lips at the sputtering breaths you take as your moans turn to squeals. it doesn’t take much more than that, his second spurt just as heavy as his first. he uses his grip on your hips to hold you still, your legs a shaking mess as you went numb a while ago. he stills in you, chest heaving from all his hard work, but he watches you with a satisfied grin.
“gotta set a clothes you can wear. can’t clean up that pussy though—gotta show that off before we go home for round three.” he grunts, kissing your jawline roughly—saving your lips for last. he’s tender here, holding your face in his hands like he’s holding a delicate flower. “want them to see ya all fucked out. ‘s the only way they ever will. ‘m feelin’ generous.”
you struggle for your breath, rolling your eyes at him. you don’t mind the notion—you don’t care if pictures show up in the magazines the next day. all you care about is being his—and winning. though, it’s plenty safe to say you did
#kyleewritesmha#mha x reader#kylee’s kinktober event#kinktober 2023#kinktober#bnha x reader#mha smut#bnha smut#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugo smut#bnha bakugou#bakugo#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki
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Blue Jeans
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more.
i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v
word count: 2k
a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3
Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you.
He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.
Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.
Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.
He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.
“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.
“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”
“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.
You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.
“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.
“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.
He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.
“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.
He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.
“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.
“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.
It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.
Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.
Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.
“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”
“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”
You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.
“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”
“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.
“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.
“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.
You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.
You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.
“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.
“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.
He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.
“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”
“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.
“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.
He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.
“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.
“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.
You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.
“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.
You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.
“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.
His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.
“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin.
You frantically nod in response to the question.
“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”
The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.
You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.
You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.
“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.
“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.
“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.
You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.
His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.
The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.
“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.
“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.
“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”
“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy imagine
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