#truly in a very strange time of my life still but like i was Not good until a few weeks ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 2 months

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Like An Animal - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, cúmplay, mating press, chóking, overstim, oral (female receiving), créampie, dirty talk, Toji really REALLY wants to get you pregnant, spitting, mentioned kids, absolutely filthy, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Need this man so bad you don’t even understand AAA.

Toji Fushiguro didn’t want any more kids. Why would he? They were messy, expensive, and it was a sheer miracle that Megumi wasn’t anything like the little demons he’s seen during drop-off at the kindergarten. He didn’t need another reason to watch Babyshark for five hours straight - and he wasn’t about to change his mind anytime soon.

Or, so he thought.

“Hey doll, m’home- what the f-”

“Toji! Language!” you hiss, hastily covering the ears of a very oblivious Yuji, who was deeply engrossed in mixing icing.

Oh?

Now, there have only been three times in his life that Toji has been truly taken aback. The first being when he discovered that yes, Megumi’s hair really does stand up that way naturally. Second, when he realized that he was falling for you - and that oh shit maybe he does still have feelings somewhere in there after all.

And finally, right now, the sight of you covered in flour and wrestling three giggly toddlers into some semblance of order in the kitchen. “Welcome home, handsome.”

Oh.

It made something deep inside him lurch so strangely.

“Why…” Toji rasps, eyes flitting between the mixing bowls messily clinked together and the three toddlers happily stood on stools, flour in their hair and matching smiles on your faces. “Why have they multiplied?”

“We’re baking cookies!” Yuji exclaims from the counter, swiping a thick wad of dough on Nobara’s hair. To which the latter responds with a swift smack on the head.

You smirk at your dumbfounded boyfriend, “Well, Toji, it seems that when you leave me alone with a batch of cookies to bake, I have a tendency to summon reinforcements.” Gesturing at the chaos surrounding you, “Megs wanted to bake some cookies before his sleepover at Yuji’s so I had these three over because we have more than enough space.”

“I see…does insurance cover this kitchen?”

Rolling your eyes, “Oh c’mon, don’t be such a spoilsport.” You reach for the batch of freshly baked goods, “You’re just in time to taste-test our latest creation!”

And, well, how could he ever say no to you? Although - flour-dusted and disheveled - some strange part of himself thinks you look even more gorgeous than usual right now, as if that was even possible. His girl was so pretty, even when you’re wrangling three little gremlins. Too pretty. Toji just couldn’t get his head around that nagging little voice saying you looked so pretty especially when you’re wrangling three little gre-

“Ehh? Fushiguro is your dad blushing?”

“Gross.”

“You idiots he isn’t blushing, it’s called ‘swooning’. My mommy says it’s a grown-up thing.”

It was hard to not hear the (extremely loud) whispers from behind you, but it was even harder to ignore the slight red tinting Toji’s ears as he pointedly reached out for the tray you were holding. Fingers barely even brushing against the cookies before a tiny voice speaks up, “Mama, can I have one too?”

You freeze. Toji freezes. You think the whole world freezes except for Yuji and Nobara who stifle giggles behind their hands.

“Look Kugisaki, now he’s really swooning.”

“Yeah, my mommy says that’s also how you get babies. You swoon and pop! they appear.”

Toji raises a brow at Nobara, gritting out a strained, “Your mommy says a lot, huh?” That jolts you out of your reverie, and you flash a gentle smile at a very red-faced Megumi. Leaning down to reply, “Of course, sweetie.”

And as he mumbles a quick “Thank you”, hastily grabbing another cookie and retreating to a corner of the kitchen - hoping to disappear into the shadows - you risk a glance at Toji. Cheeks flushed hard enough to rival Megumi’s, ah, like father like son.

“Anyway, don’t just stand there. Come help me n’ the kids, Yuji’s grandpa’s coming to pick them up soon!” you playfully swat at your boyfriend’s sculpted chest, going back to busying yourself with the icing.

Toji, however, was having an epiphany that was altering his perception of reality, one that he’d probably been denying ever since he stepped in through that damn front door. You. The kids. You and the kids. You and his kids.

“Mama.”

And Megumi’s little slip-up had been the final nail on his coffin to certify that oh Toji Fushiguro was utterly and irrevocably screwed. And he’d like to blame it all on you being such a goddamn wonder, but he’s got a nagging feeling that the three little gremlins currently decorating cookies share an equal part of the blame.

What was it that girl had said? Swooning is how you get babies? Because, well, eyeing the way you scooped up a pouty Megumi in your arms, chatting animatedly with a tittering Nobara and Yuji, only one thought rings through his mind - damn right, kid.

---

“-and make sure to brush your teeth. No faking this time, okay? I’ve told Yuji’s grandpa to check. And-”

“No summoning demons, and no summoning the police. Though you’re probably too young for that.” Toji interrupts your little tirade, ruffling the hair of a very disgruntled Megumi. “Have fun, little man.”

You giggle at the usual father-son dynamic, but as you waved off Megumi and his friends, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something in the air felt a bit different. Something a bit tense. A bit exciting.

Maybe it was the heavy silence that hung in the room after that door slammed shut, leaving just you and Toji all alone in the house. Forcing you to register the heat of his large frame looming behind yours. When did he get so close? Or maybe it was the prickly of his gaze on your back, a resounding slam! echoing in your ears as he cages you against the door.

Or maybe - just maybe - it was the way he leaned down to whisper in your ear, husky and tinged with something so utterly dangerous.

“So…mama, huh?”

A thrill goes down your spine at his words. “Oh, stop.” you wave off, though you feel your cheeks flaring up in response. Especially as he plows on, “Why? I think you make a great mama.”

You scoff, casting a sidelong glance at the muscular arm just inches away from your head. “Don’t joke, Megs was so embarrassed after that.”

“I’m not joking.”

Your back hits the cool door before you can react. Toji’s hands almost painful on your shoulders, muscles rippling as he turns you to face him. You raise your eyes to meet his and oh-

Oh shit.

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies as you take in the man before you. His expression darkened, breaths slightly labored, eyes half-lidded and locked on you. You’d almost have been worried at the sudden flip of personality had it not been for the words that spill from his lips.

“I’m not joking.” he repeats, voice strangled.

Great, the man has finally lost it. Despite the traitorous throbbing in your cunt, you try to make sense of the situation. “Toji, this joke has-”

Your words get caught in your throat as he raises a hand to squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrassing pout, looking down at you through dazed eyes. “Do I look like I’m joking, doll?” Leaning down to lick a stripe up a smudge of icing on your cheek. Lingering far too long, murmuring into your skin, “What do you think?”

In the heat of it all, you manage to choke out, “W-what?”

“Don’t you think,” he mutters, as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each word that comes out of his mouth. “That you’d make the best mama?”

“I mean- yes-”

And then his lips are on yours, shutting you up - bruising. Such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he drinks you in with an aching desperation. Toji breathes in your gasp as you feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your front.

“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth. “Not enough, ma. Need you s’bad.”

The buttons hit the floor before you realize what’s happening. Toji’s fisting your shirt in one hand, too impatient - too starved - he pulls down, down, down. Ripping. Urgently moving down to your shorts- “Those are expensi-” you yelp.

But it’s useless - the tattered fabric hits the ground faster than your jaw as he groans out a quick, “I’ll buy ya a new one when we shop for baby clothes.”

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, hands trailing up your thighs. He swiftly unclasps your bra, mouth dropping into a soft little oh! at the sight, immediately groping each and every inch of skin he could reach. Tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples on his fingers in wonder. “Oh, doll. These are gonna be s’full, huh? Wan’ taste how sweet you’ll be.”

“T-Toji hah-” you whine, as he takes one nipple in his mouth. Lips wrapped so prettily around your tit as he tugs lightly, sucking harshly like he was miraculously trying to draw milk out. Looking up at you so obscenely through his thick lashes. “Ngh- wan’ more.” you buck your hips, grinding against his thick cock.

And, well, how could Toji ever deny the mother of his children?

Because he immediately drops to his knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties. Tugging with his teeth, “This what you want, ma?” he slurs. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy, “Wan’ me to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt? Jus’ say the word.”

“Please, daddy.”

“Tha’s my girl.”

And then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds with his teeth. Flashing you a devilish grin at the sinful strings of slick that connect you to the flimsy fabric. Oh Toji had half the mind to tease you about how wet you were already, but no, he had no time to waste.

With a guttural, fucked-out little grunt, he’s surging forward, diving face first into your pretty pussy. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit, licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds.

“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, as he buries himself deeper into your dripping cunt. Tongue bullying its way past your folds to lap at your slick, not stopping till he’s had his fill of your sweet juices. “M-more.”

Two large hands dip into your waist as he wraps his glossy lips around your pulsing clit to suck harshly, both keeping you still and supporting your weight as your knees weaken. Toji can’t have his pretty girl hurt herself right before he fills her up n’ gets her pregnant, right?

“Sure ya can handle more, ma?” Electricity runs up your spine as your boyfriend rolls his tongue across your clit just the way he knew you liked. “Y’should be thanking me for not jus’ stuffing you full of my cock like I want to right now.”

“Then hah- why don’t you?”

Toji pulls away ever-so-slightly, relishing in the delirious little whine of disappointment that leaves you. One that quickly turns into a surprised squeal as he spit a steady stream of spit into your quivering cunt, spreading it across your pussy with his thumb.

Sloppy - it was so fucking sloppy. He looked at you like you were his favorite meal and ate you out just as much.

Your juices decorating his lips like a badge of honor. Smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw. One which moves as he utters, “Can’t break the mother of my kids, doll.”

But oh how you’d beg to differ as he brings his face to your sloppy pussy once more, tongue darting out to catch the obscene little drip! drip! drip! of your slick. “Gon’ be the best fucking dad to all three of ‘em.”

“T-three?”

And with that, he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Throwing your left leg over his sculpted shoulder to make out deeper with your cunt. You tug on his hair pathetically, impatiently. Cute little whines of his name leaving you each time he drips into your sloppy pussy, stretching you out, swiping at your clit, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Yeah, three.” he mutters into your folds, “Gon’ give me two more beautiful babies? Gon’ be so round n’ pretty with my kids?” Tongue curling deftly against that one spot he knew would have you keening and rocking your pretty cunt into his mouth.

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck- hngh- yes!” you moan, body jerking violently at the way he hit that spot over and over.

He huffs out a laugh, hungry gaze taking in that cute, desperate expression on your face. Toji just couldn’t help but tease you a little bit. “Use your words, ma.”

“H-huh?”

“Tell me what you want.”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “Want to so badly. Wan’ you to hah- fill me up hngh- W-wan’ cum-”

“So demanding.” he titters teasingly into your cunt, vibrations making you drag your pussy more erratically on his mean mouth. Now, Toji could tease you with his tongue for hours until you’re crying and begging for his cock. But right now, he doesn’t think he has any more patience nor sanity. “I love that.”

Toji knows by the way your pretty pussy clenches around his tongue that you’re close, pulse urgent on his face as he greedily laps at your cunt. So he speeds up his movements, drinking you in like a madman.

A hand snaking up to plunge knuckle-deep into your sloppy entrance. Pussy taking him so readily after being stretched out on his tongue. Your adorable, fucked-out little whines of his name going straight to his rock-hard dick as he fucks you with his fingers the way he wants to with his cock. Two fingers thrusting in and out while his thumb draws rapid little circles on your clit. Sinking his teeth gently into your swollen folds.

Bucking into his touch, “Hah! S’too much, daddy. Hngh, g-gonna cum ah! Gonna cum-”

“Then cum, doll.”

And you are - fast and violent.

Plushy walls clamping down on Toji’s fingers as if your fluttering cunt was trying to suck him up. Mind hazy and your only thoughts being about Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Mmm taste s’sweet, love you on m’tongue.” he grunts, breathing you in and letting your juices slide down his throat. Lewd squelches in time with your cute lil’ whines as you ride out your orgasm on his pretty face. Tongue fucking you through your high.

“Had fun, ma?” Toji grins once you blink back your vision, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Dangerous little smile only growing at your barely-lucid nod.

Ah, but even the ever-confident Toji Fushiguro faltered as your shaky hands reached out to pet his achingly hard cock. Swollen and leaking a mouthwatering dark patch against his trousers.

“Wan’ your cock now, daddy.” you murmur, watching the way his darkened eyes widen ever-so-slightly, breath hitching. “Wan’ you to fill me up over n’ over like you promised.”

Oh you little minx, with all your dirty tricks - you were going to be the death of him.

With a dark little chuckle of disbelief, Toji rises to his full height. Lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss - tongue licking at the seam of your mouth and intertwining with yours. Forcing you to taste yourself on him. So sweet of sin and all his dreams of stuffing you till you were sure to have his kids - two of them, in fact.

“Anything y’want, doll.” he whispers into your lips.

And that’s all that is said before the clinking of a belt rings in the heady air. The realization that you were so naked and splayed out for him while he was still unfairly clothed finally hitting as Toji peels his shirt off. Your mouth waters at the chiseled front, hands immediately reaching to squeeze his large pecs. Running your hands along his body.

“Ah, fuck.” he shudders, “Y’never change, huh?”

Yet your greedy hands are momentarily stunned as he lets his pants fall to the floor with his boxers. Rock-hard cock springing up and hitting his stomach.

He was so painfully hard that it made your cunt quiver in anticipation. Red and throbbing, soaked in precum and glistening in the dim lighting. Twitching at the sound of your voice as you say “Want you to fucking ruin me, daddy.” you blink up at Toji, all doe-eyed and teary after your last orgasm.

And oh does that make him snap - maybe his sanity, maybe you by the end of this, because before you know it, Toji’s spreading your legs with his knee. Biting his bottom lip as your slick trails down your pretty cunt and onto your legs.

“What m’girl wants.” he grits out, dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head. “My girl- gets.”

You keen as Toji bullies his massive cock into your cunt on the last word. “Ngh- T-Toji.” you whine, vision flashing at the stretch. No matter how many times Toji stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.” Trying to steady your breathing as he fucks into you in quick, mindless little jabs to fit himself inside your snug pussy. “I’ll make sure of it, doll. How else m’gonna breed your pretty lil’ cunt?”

Your dripping cunt rubs so deliciously against his abs, slick mixing with his precum and smearing across both your bodies. Filthy, and exactly what you wanted right now.

“Shit, love when your pussy’s so messy. Now, legs.” he rasps, with a quick smack to your thighs. And that’s all that has to be said - your queue to wrap your legs around Toji’s waist, letting his strong arms lift you with ease. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper onto his cock, veins rubbing so deliciously against all the right spots. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat.

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck fuck fuck, m’so full.” you keen, heels digging into his hips.

Sliding down his cock far enough that his heavy balls meet your ass, already so wet with precum and slick. Ah, you were so full of him you almost felt like he was pushing against your lungs.

“Oh, yes.” Toji hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” Finally he gets what he’s been aching for ever since those three gremlins stepped out the door. All the blood draining to his cock at the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he was the only one you could think of. Hey, he needed to get some attention before the baby arrives, right?

“Need this s’bad. Fuck.” he gasps. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, shallow, desperate little grinds of his hips. “Gonna fuck a baby into you, you little slut. Fill you up with my seed till you can’t take it anymore.”

Neat little crescents of his fingernails on your ass as his thrusts get longer, more purposeful. Twitching balls smacking against your skin in such a lewd rhythm, matching the cute little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. So deliciously painful.

“C’mon, ma.” Toji moans, hips out of control now. Taking in the way your head was thrown back, body bouncing each time he rammed his cock into your tight cunt. But oh how he wanted to see the fucked-out expression on your face. “Look at me.”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way Toji cradles your head to press his sweaty forehead against yours. Only looking up at him with delirious heart-eyes as he milked himself on your sloppy pussy.

“Shit feel s’perfect split-apart on my cock. Really made for me, huh?” he gasps into your mouth. “Need to cum in this pretty pussy. Need to fill you up- ah- need this need this- fuck.”

“Shit shit shit, Toji m’so close. I’m hngh-”

A hand hurriedly unwraps from your waist to draw rapid, desperate little patterns on your cunt. Not even circles anymore because shit Toji couldn’t think of anything aside from the way your pussy was milking him so good- And how he was gonna fuck a baby into you and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-

“-you’ll bake with ‘em. And I’ll tuck ‘em to bed.” the words tumble out of his lips and into your parted mouth. Pussy drunk and babbling, “N’ we’re both taking those three to the park and try not to lose ‘em.”

Dragging himself inside you till his weeping tip kisses your sloppy hole. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by quick, harsh thrusts, “Then at night m’gonna steal you all to myself, and y’know what, ma?”

At this point you can do nothing more than just take it as Toji bounces you on his cock in midair, sobbing out a strained, “W-what, daddy?”

Toji leans impossibly closer, thumb catching on your swollen lips, breath fanning your face as he mutters, “Gonna fuck another baby into you. Fill you with my cum all over again, doll. Give it all to you.”

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere and have you seeing stars. And this was no different - yet you see the pearly gates of heaven as you cream around his cock. “Ah! Hngh m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

He lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back, hips stuttering and sloppy now. Breathing out raggedly, “Yeah fuck jus’ like that use me like’ that- hngh squeezing me s’tight gonna cum. Gonna give my pretty baby my cum, fuck a baby into ya- oh-”

Body bowing into yours, teething latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Fingers digging and bruising on your hips, holding your filthy pussy to his cock as he cums with a strangled moan. Hard. almost painfully so.

White-hot pleasure behind his eyes, pumping thick, hot ropes to fill your snug cunt. Just animalistic movements from such a carnal part of himself as he fucked his seed deeper and deeper into you.

Not even thinking of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy. Toji’s cum dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-

“Hey, who said we’re done, doll?” Toji tuts mockingly, snapping you out of the haze. “Don’t pass out on me just yet.”

And you don’t even realize it before he’s manhandling you onto the nearby couch. Pulling out only admire his seed gushing out of you, so white and hot and his. Cock twitching to life at the pool of cum and slick slowly forming on the cushion below. Fuck that, you’ll need a bigger couch for five people anyway.

Ramming his throbbing cock into your poor, swollen pussy. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and bending down down down till your knees were at your tits.

Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till Megumi gets home. Promises he fully intended to fulfill.

“Fuck. One more. G-gotta make sure it takes, ma.” he swears into your mouth. Voice jagged, and you almost couldn’t recognize it as your boyfriend’s. Barely even lucid, just mindless motions of his hips as he watched your slutty cunt suck him up so good. “Yeah, who’s cum is that, doll? Who’s that painting your pretty pussy white?”

Drinking in the sobbed out little, “Y-you, Toji! Ah- Hngh-” as he starts ravaging your swollen clit again. Toji’s balls squeeze so painfully as he fucked you like his personal sextoy. And your pussy was so heavenly around him that you were basically asking for him to go harder. Begging. Begging him to ruin you.

“Ah! Fuck I’m-” throat shot, you can’t even form a proper sentence before you’re seeing stars being your eyes. Walls milking Toji’s thick cock as you cum - almost painfully. Mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! tears streaking down your face.

Ones that Toji can’t help but lick off, salty on his tongue as he cums again. And again and again. Voice stuck in his throat, eyes widening, the veins popping out on his arms as he pulls your hips closer to his.

Hips burning now as he breeds you like some animal. Like he was ready to fill you up until he was shooting blanks and couldn’t anymore. Cum squelching out of your sloppy pussy and seeping into where you were joined. Ah, well, the couch was ruined - time for Plan B.

Which is why Toji found himself wrestling you onto the cool floor, cock still twitching inside you, spreading you for him on whatever flat surface he could find. Milking his cock so he can cum more than he has his whole life.

Both of you barely lucid at this point. He wasn’t even sure if he could cum again - but by God if he wasn’t going to try. He was drunk off of the feeling inside you, so warm and wet with him. So perfect to carry his child.

“Hngh- yes yes yes wan’ carry your child, daddy.” you whine. Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck at this point. The only thing he cared about now was the feeling of your sloppy lil’ pussy wrapped around him and whether Megumi would want a brother or a sister.

“Hm, yeah? Like the idea huh, you little slut. Fuck s’perfect f’me- ngh-”

Running on just the sting of your nails down his back and your legs pulling him impossibly closer. Barely even thrusting at this point, just frantic shallow, grinds to milk his swollen cock. Trying to fuck out something delicious. It hurt, but it hurt so good.

So good that Toji doesn’t even realize when he’s cumming again. Just faint little tingles before his cock is shooting thin, long wisps of cum, making you squeeze around him as he fills you up again and again.Your own orgasm just a small spike of euphoria before he starts moving inside you. Again.

Ah, he wonders, vision hazy at the edges - but still perfectly capturing the white gushing out of your ravaged cunt. Taking in the messy floor, and your even messier pussy. Where to next, huh? He hasn’t even fucked you in the kitchen yet.

“N-next?” you repeat, eyes widening as much as they possibly could through the exhaustion and the urge to pass out. And oh he said that out loud too? Whoops.

“Of course.” he pools the cum trickling out of you on two fingers, shoving them in your mouth. Making your head spine as you choke and gag around his thick fingers, pressing the back of your tongue. Only two things ringing in your mind, Toji’s unforgiving cock - raw and hot, dragging against your ravaged walls again and again - and the words that spill from his lips.

“Besides, we gotta practice for the fourth one, too, ma.”

A/N. Fully believe this man will fuck you till both of you pass out.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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writing-for-life · 1 month

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The Endless Are Not Their Opposite--They Only Define It

I read quite often, on here and elsewhere, that the Endless are also their opposite (@tickldpnk8 and I were just talking about an interesting thread on Reddit), so I just decided to speed-complete this one and get it out of my drafts before it dies in there (so not as much in-depth as originally planned, but sometimes, you just need to run with it 🤣).

The Endless are not their opposite. They define it. It’s a (in my mind, and I’d love to hear what you think) massive difference. And they define their opposite by their absence. If they truly were their opposite, it would give very different meaning to canon, and if we were to do so, a lot of it wouldn't make sense in my view.

Dream is not also reality. He defines it. He is, and forever will be, unreality. It is his absence that defines reality. A dream that becomes real isn't a dream anymore--it's real. That’s the main reason why pulling the ship into reality in Overture weakens him. If he were reality, he could have just snapped his fingers and make it happen. If he were reality, a lot of his problems wouldn't be... well, problems. The fact he is (a) D/dream is pretty much why all his relationships are doomed to fail. Dreams don't last. Dreams are forever strange and can't be truly known.

Delirium is not also sanity/clarity. She defines it through her absence. And when she pulls herself together like in Brief Lives, it hurts her "muchly". It is immeasurable pain for her because it is what she is not and cannot be for any extended period of time without hurting herself.

Despair is not also hope. She defines it via her absence. As long as you hope, you don’t despair. If Despair were also hope, we would not have 6 issues of Overture very clearly showing us who and what H/hope is. If Despair were also hope, we wouldn't need a little girl called Hope reach out her hand and touch Dream—he would have a sister who could do it. But the only time Despair shows up for him, so to speak, is after he killed Orpheus—make of that what you will.

Death is not also life. She defines it. The fact that she is there at your beginning does not mean she is the one who gives you life. She is there so you will remember her, always (and especially when she takes your hand), hence you will cherish life. She does not directly give life to immortals either--they are immortal because of her absence, because she withholds her gift, like she does with Orpheus and Hob (the Eblis-situation has nothing to do with anything in my mind and is linked to a funeral rite, and we are clearly told it is not something she usually does [“it’s been so long”], or is remotely comfortable doing. It is just that she is the Endless that is most life-adjacent and hence the one who will have to do it. Just like Dream is the most reality-adjacent and hence the one who has to pull the ship).

Destruction is not also creation. He defines it. He is what gives us the blank slate, he is what makes creation possible, he is what starts the cycle and ends it, but he is not creation himself. Keeping on destroying makes creation impossible. There needs to be a pause, a break for creation to come to fruition—the absence of destruction. If he were also creation, he wouldn't create so badly (to the extent that it is canonically turned into a running gag), and being around him and seeking him out wouldn't be an issue. But it is.

Desire is not also hatred (I’m still not sure if hatred is really the opposite of desire, but I’ll run with it because that’s what Gaiman chose). They define it via their absence. You know how Dream doesn’t want Desire in his life anymore after one major spat (whether he had reason to or overreacted isn’t really the issue). And what feelings are often left in the absence of Desire? And what does Desire feel and gets themselves tangled up in because they are pushed away and are basically not acknowledged/desired by their own sibling despite constantly trying to show him they are important (desire is not just a sexual thing, people, get your mind out of the gutter 🤣)? Yeah, about that one… There is definitely a different type of enmeshment here which sometimes seems a bit plot-hole-y to me, but I think that might be down to the fact that Desire is the chosen antagonist (and even that, only to a degree until they aren’t). Even so, it still makes sense.

Destiny is not also freedom. He is the absence of it. All paths lead to the same end. Or a decision you make was the decision you were going to make all along, and what looks like a different ending was the ending that would have happened anyway. And even if you choose, the book will start to make that choice destiny again. Only Delirium knows what’s not in his book, and in this universe, the only true freedom is not bound by any rules, logic or sanity…

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #death of the endless #sandman meta #sandman bookclub #desire of the endless #delirium of the endless #despair of the endless #destruction of the endless #destiny of the endless #sandman spoilers #I’ve been Gaiman’d

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kimmkitsuragi · 2 years

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the fact that this album would absolutely wreck and fuck my spotify wrapped stats if only i listened to it when it first came out <3 well there's always last.fm

#but actually im glad i listened to it a few months (? i think it's been a few months) late #because it would absolutely wreck and fuck ME in that case #truly in a very strange time of my life still but like i was Not good until a few weeks ago #im still not good but it was just bad and terrible so yeah #hala çok gerginim ama biraz daha az bu iyi mi kötü mü bilmiyorum bile #biraz bi şeyler yapmam gerek her konu hakkında ama en azından O Kadar kötü değilim sanırım #ama gelecek. ah. uhm. well. you know.#bi şeyler yapmam gerek ey beynim lütfen ciddi işler yapmama izin ver. sanki yavaş yavaş ivme kazanıyor gibi hissediyorum ama...#hala hiçbir şey belli değil baya komik en kötü kısmı da bu sanırım neyse #🗒#edit: NE YAPMAM GEREKTİĞİNİ BILMIYORUM AMA YAPICAM #ŞU AN BOŞ VAKIT GECIRMIYORUM ARA VERMEK DE ONEMLI BELKI BU BENIM ICIN DAHA ONEMLIDIR SU AN #AMA YAPMAM GEREKENLERI YAPICAM DAHA ZAMANIM VAR HENUZ NE YAPMAK ISTEDIGIMI BILMESEM BILE #BU ONEMLI DEGIL ONEMLI DEGIL. YINE DE YAPABILIRIM. KORKUNÇ OLABILIR AMA HER SEY KORKUNC #KENDIMI COK ZORLAMAMAM GEREK. NE YAPACAĞIMI BILMEMEK DE NORMAL SADECE BEN BOSLUKTA DEGILIM #NE OLURSA OLSUN ONEMLI DEGIL SONUCTA HER SEY TEMPORARY KENDIMIZI OLDURMEYE GEREK YOK

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lovebugism · 8 months

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Random conversations with rockstar eddie while high that obviously lead to something dirty 👀

ty for requesting :D — eddie asks you who you'd most want to have a threesome with and confessions are shared (band!au, established relationship, mentions of weed and smut 18+, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

It started out all cute, in your defense.

The tour bus was parked in Colorado for the next couple of nights, and the mountains and trees were aflame with a very distinct golden color. You and Eddie chose to bask in the orange while the rest of the band spent the evening in the hotel.

Your night alone was an innocent one — despite the cheeky taunts and whistles from the rest of Corroded Coffin. Squished together in your bunk, the two of you got high and proceeded to talk about everything and nothing all at once.

You share one pillow, noses mere inches apart, just barely fitting together on the small mattress. The skunky smell of weed and Eddie’s musky cologne is all-consuming, suffocating in the best way.

Your poorly concealed giggles fill the silence of the bus as you press your palm against Eddie’s pale one, comparing the size difference between the two. It shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does.

“Would you still love me if Roger Taylor asked you out?” Eddie blurts, growing suddenly serious about the question that only just popped into his mind.

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He thought it, and the words just sorta spilled from his mouth.

Your brows pinch at the sudden question, though there’s still a small smile on your face. You can’t be sure where he’s coming from — if it’s the weed or if he remembers the one time you very drunkenly confessed to having a decade-long obsession with the blonde-haired drummer in your girlhood.

“What?” you wonder, still giggling.

“I mean, like, if he showed up to one of our shows and asked you out, would you say yes?”

You ponder the question. For a few seconds too long, maybe. Mostly because it takes you a little while to understand him through the brain fog.

“Well… no,” you answer finally, voice wavering as your eyes flit to the darkened ceiling.

“No?”

“No,” you repeat, more firmly this time. Your gaze returns to his chocolate one, made a darker shade from the black night — they sparkle, still. A grin blooms on your face. “But I think if you really loved me, you’d let me fuck him. Just one time.”

You’re obviously kidding. It’s just a stupid joke made more evident by the dumb, lopsided smile on your face and the pointer finger you hold up to your nose.

Eddie knows this, and he’s sporting his own rosy grin accordingly. A fleeting thought sears his brain. It bubbles up in his throat and tumbles out before he can stop it.

“Only if I get to watch,” he retorts, all boyish and quiet.

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not. But then again, it usually is. You decide to toe the line, anyway. “Really?” you hum, shifting on the mattress to face him more intently.

The boy shrugs while you smooth ornery curls from his temple. “Yeah. You’re hot. He’s hot. One plus one equals two… Or whatever that expression is.”

“Fair,” you concede, laughing still.

“Alright. Your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhmm,” he nods sloppily against the pillow. “Who would you wanna have a threesome with? Like, in a different universe or whatever, ‘cause I don’t think I’m strong enough to share you in real life.”

Again, you giggle. You can’t seem to stop, apparently. You answer quicker than either of you expect.

“Umm… Maybe Nancy,” you answer with a strange sort of nonchalance. “She’s hot… And also she looks like she slaps really hard.”

Eddie’s brain goes blank. And not from the weed this time.

He knew Nancy. Vaguely. Mostly from you. She’s your old friend from high school that you reconnect with every couple of months. You don’t talk crazy often — ‘cause life is too busy for an up-and-coming rockstar and Indiana’s best journalist — but the connection is never truly lost.

And it’s not just that you chose Nancy without having to think about it very hard. He just wasn’t expecting it to be someone you knew in real life. Someone so tangible. That Roger Taylor scenario would only ever happen in wet dreams — his, namely — but Nancy Wheeler? That could be arranged.

The thought alone has him reeling.

You watch him get in his head about the whole thing, though maybe the faraway look in his eyes is just from the weed.

“Well?” you press with an urging lilt and a girlish grin. “You’re turn, Eds. Don’t leave me hangin’ here.”

He goes quiet, which is very unlike your loudmouth boy. He thinks before he speaks, measures his reply before he answers. His absentminded fingers trace up and down the length of your arm all the while, leaving prickling goosebumps in their wake.

“What about Steve?” he wonders with a painfully nonchalant inflection.

Your face screws up instantaneously. You don’t mean to act as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “Steve?” you blurt, louder than you meant to. “Like… Steve Steve?”

As in your ex-boyfriend Steve.

As in one of his best friends Steve.

As in roommate Steve the couple weeks out of the year you two aren’t on the road.

It makes your head spin something fierce.

“There another Steve I don’t know about?” Eddie jokes.

Brows still pinched and face still twisted, you question, “So you wanna… fuck Steve? Like, Steve The Hair Harrington?”

“You did,” the boy shrugs, then fakes a soft pout. “Sometimes I feel left out…”

You press your palm to his chest, pushing him playfully away. His arm curls around your back to pull you close again. The proximity is lesser now, so much so that the tips of your nose brush together and your skunky breaths entwine.

It all feels so much heavier now. The intensity of the moment makes you fight back a shiver crawling up your spine. Eddie’s palm smooths up and down the length of it in a slow and measured rhythm. It does little to ease your breathlessness.

“I don’t know. I just think it could be fun,” the boy concludes with a sudden seriousness. His voice is as low as his eyelids. “And I think it’d be real hot to watch him fuck you… ‘Cause we both know he can’t make you cum like I can. Can he, doll?”

Your thighs clench together instinctually, as though to quell the sudden ache pounding between them. You nod slowly, wordlessly.

Eddie’s rosy lips quirk in a cheeky half-smile at your honeyed reaction. He continues — half because the high has loosened his tongue and half because he wants to see how flustered he can make you.

“And then he can watch you fall apart on my dick after, yeah?” he questions like you’re in any space to answer him. “Maybe I can give him a few pointers… Teach him how to fuck you properly, you know?”

The distant ache between your thighs has grown to a full bloom now. It’s a little embarrassing how effortlessly he can drive you crazy — how quickly he can make you drench your panties. You might’ve been a little shameful about it if you couldn’t feel his cock stiffening against your hip.

“Fuck, Eds…” you sigh, the words tumbling from your mouth without thinking.

With parted lips, you drift towards the boy and his unkissed mouth. He juts his chin slightly backward, only lets your plush bottom lips graze together. You don’t know why he’s teasing you. You’re already a puddle at his feet.

With a smirk and an all-consuming touch along your spine, he makes a quiet promise. “And maybe, if you’re real good, you can watch me fuck him, too…”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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xiao-come-home · 24 days

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I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.anon thirst

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morgana-ren · 9 months

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I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference.

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction.

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does.

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne.

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name.

His real name.

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet—

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance.

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.”

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity”

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.”

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom.

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe.

He lashes out at her.

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all.

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness.

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–”

Because that is what he’d taught her.

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished.

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?”

Her head cocks. She does not understand.

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question.

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something.

From him.

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest.

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest.

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her.

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you."

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night."

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair."

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent.

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued.

He can’t.

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death.

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow.

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded.

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight.

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct.

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?"

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love.

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried.

“Darling?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her?

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall.

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes.

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed.

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic.

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that.

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely.

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time.

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 1 month

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Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.�� Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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twizzie-lairs · 4 months

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

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flanaganfilm · 11 months

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Do you have any “don’t meet your heroes” stories from working in Hollywood?

Absolutely. Hollywood really is a place like no other. If you grow up loving cinema, certain people can take on mythic status in your imagination. Actors, filmmakers; they are larger than life. They become idols in the truest sense - an image that is actually worshipped. But Hollywood is actually full of very weird human beings who have been lucky enough to make their living in a world of make-believe. A huge percentage of the people who work in this industry are strange birds, unsuited for working anywhere else.

Some of our biggest stars wouldn't last ten minutes working a real job; some of our most exalted filmmakers collapse inward if they're in a crowded room. They can have unusual talents, or beauty, or unique perspectives and abilities that have propelled them to various levels of success, or even stardom, but they're just normal, neurotic people.

And success, fame, and money can really twist people. It can be like radiation. They can go full Gollum from it.

But most people who work in Hollywood are not stars at all. The vast majority of people who work here are not rich, not famous. Most are hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen who are fighting every day to make a living, scraping by the best they can in an industry that is brutal, impersonal, and impenetrable. But every single person in this business - whether they are superstars or not - are just ordinary people. They're insecure, anxious, and prone to all of the failings we mortals are prone to. Some of them are awesome; some of them are assholes. But most of the people here (even the superstars) quietly feel like they don't belong, or that they don't deserve it, or that their sheer ordinariness will be discovered any minute. In fact, it's the people who seem to feel the opposite - those rare people who feel that they DO belong here, and deserve the lifestyle this industry can afford, who are inevitably the least likable ones I've met.

As I've been lucky enough to keep working in this business, I've met a lot of the people who I idolized along the way. Filmmakers and actors who I admire so much, whose work has shaped the trajectory of my life without them knowing it. I've been starstruck every time, and I am still am - I stammer, I freeze, and I kick myself for what I say, or don't say, or how I said it. I'm not good at it. I have acute social anxiety, and when you throw me at someone I admire, I turn into a blubbering idiot. They say "don't meet your heroes" because you may (likely will) be disappointed by just how ordinary they truly are. Or worse, they may even turn out to be people you wouldn't want to interact with in normal circumstances - your heroes might be people you wouldn't want to invite to coffee. The persona you have admired is a product in itself, something you bought, something you have taken home and displayed proudly in your imagination... but the human being behind that persona is full of all the ordinary failings. That can be really hard to reconcile. So yeah, a long-winded way of saying that I've had the experience of meeting people I admired a great deal only to be disappointed, or worse. I've got some nightmare stories in there where the actual person violently shattered the idol I'd built in my imagination. I won't share those stories, there's little point in that, but instead I'll talk about the rare exceptions - the few heroes I've met who were every bit as awesome as I'd hoped they'd be. They may say "never meet your heroes," but they haven't met Mark Hamill. I worked with Mark on The Fall of the House of Usher, and he is one of my favorite people. Kind, generous, humble, and so, so funny. I was nervous and excited to meet Mark for the obvious reasons, because of the hero he was in my imagination - but I got to meet Mark the actor, the father, the husband, the humanitarian, and the friend. Guillermo Del Toro - one of my biggest heroes, his work has meant so much to me. And I was terrified to meet him. But he is one of the most joyful, honest, sweet-natured people I've met in the business, and his love for movies is infectious. For me, the man himself exceeded the myth.

I've been lucky to meet other exceptions to this rule, heroes of mine who exceeded my expectations - Ewan McGregor, Mick Garris, Brian Henson, Heather Langenkamp, Henry Thomas - and yeah, I've had the other experience too. But I try to focus on the exceptions. It can be unhealthy to idolize people - unhealthy for you, and unhealthy for them. But it's truly awesome when someone is even more amazing than you imagined.

#never meet your heroes most of the time #except Mark Hamill

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bahablastplz · 2 months

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Always there: Hyunjin x Reader x Changbin

Your friend makes you feel bad after a night out at the club, but luckily, you’ve always had Hyunjin and Changbin to comfort you. Or maybe more than that, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want? Content: Smut, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Virgin reader, use of the word 'prude', reader is shamed for being a virgin (not by SKZ), kissing, fingering, oral f! receiving, p in v sex, no mention of using protection WC: 4800

Saturday mornings are great. After a long and tiring work week, you want nothing more than a day to sleep in and relax, finally letting the stress melt away from your body and mind. When you roll out of bed with a yawn you wobble into the kitchen, ready to make yourself a cup of coffee.

Maybe you would read a book today? Or you could always catch up on that k-drama you’ve been wanting to watch–

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Strange. That almost sounded like the voice of Hwang Hyunjin, which is impossible, seeing as you just woke up and you live alone. Right?

Wrong.

“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in my house?” You groan as the coffee maker whirs to life, turning around to shoot your best friend a glare. He holds his hands up in mock defense, but your glare is no longer directed at him. It’s at the whistling coming from the bathroom, your bathroom, as Changbin strides out and dries his hands on his pants.

“I’m seriously regretting giving you both a spare set of keys,” you mumble. Your whining goes unheard over Changbin’s shouting.

“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some?”

You have never known true peace. Not since Hyunjin and Changbin came into your life. Though as much as you fake groan and moan, you love them both deeply and unconditionally. Your friends don’t really have a concept of personal space, which is very obvious this morning in particular, but you all know that if you were truly bothered and wanted them to leave, they would. You don’t ask them to. You are slightly more aware of your unruly appearance, bedhead and long t-shirt that covers your legs and lack of pants, so you walk back into your room and throw on a pair of sweats.

Once your coffee is retrieved, you lay lazily on the couch and turn on the TV. Your legs are stretched out across Hyunjin and your back is leaning against Changbin.

“You guys are so annoying,” you grumble. You sip idly out of your mug and let out a sigh, melting in between the two men.

“You’re awfully snappy today,” Hyunjin says with a laugh. “Besides, you know you love us.”

“I’m snappy because you buffoons decided to invade my home on my day off,” you say with petulance. You all know you don’t really mean your words though, so after a loud and dramatic sigh the topic is all but forgotten.

Until your friend calls.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath.

“Why is Cheryl calling you?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over to peak at your phone.

“Ugh, we had plans tonight. I completely forgot,” you say, swiping to answer her call.

“Hey girl! We still on for tonight? I really want to go to the club, and Brad said he was going to be there!”

You stifle back a groan before replying: “I don’t know…” You were being honest. Partying has never really been your forte, as much as your friend has tried to push you outside of your comfort zone… it has been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to laze around with Hyunjin and Changbin.

“C’mon! You never go out with me. This is why you still haven’t lost your virginity yet.” You stiffen at her words, letting out a soft chuckle and avoiding looking over at your friends, the ones that you know heard her judgmental words.

“Um.. yeah, sure! I’ll be there,” you finally stammer. Fuck. You really didn’t want to go but you did want to end this phone call. So that’s what you did. Finally bringing yourself to look at your friends, you give them an awkward smile.

“So… I’m going out with Cheryl tonight.”

“We gathered,” Hyunjin laughs. This time you don’t suppress the groan that tumbles out of your mouth.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Changbin says. You shoot him a nasty glare that he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“Well, Cheryl is kind of the worst,” Hyunjin agrees with you, though you’re not surprised. He’s never hidden his distaste for your other friend, and he has always been dramatic.

Listening to Hyunjin and Changbin decide if you should go out tonight was much like listening to the angel and the devil on your shoulder… Hyunjin’s protests of how you should just stay in and forget that bitch, versus Changbin’s gentle persuasion of how it’s been a long time since you’ve let yourself let go.

You take Changbin’s advice. And the boys don’t leave the house as you get ready, instead hooting and hollering when you walk out of your room in a little black dress, hair and makeup perfected. You smile sheepishly and try not to blush, but you’re used to their antics by now. When Cheryl comes to pick you up, Hyunjin stands behind you at your door, trying to comfort your nerves.

“Have fun tonight,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into your back before bringing you into an embrace from behind. He rests his head on your shoulder. “Don’t let Cheryl convince you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, yeah?” It’s unspoken what he means, and you wonder if he’s referencing your conversation with Cheryl from earlier before you’re being pushed out the door.

Smoothing your dress, you plaster a fake smile over your face before greeting your friend who is so excited about the evening.

***

You should have listened to Hyunjin.

That’s your first thought as Cheryl drags you into the club. It’s immediately apparent that she doesn’t really have interest in hanging out with you, and that she would much rather cling to her new situationship, Brad. Ugh. You needed a drink.

You do just that, ordering yourself an alcoholic beverage of choice. As you are sitting at the bar, occasionally glancing over at Cheryl, you see some other guy walk up to her and start chatting idly. You have no particular investment in the conversation until you hear her say, “But my friend Y/N is single!” Oh no. No no no.

She always did this. You’re not even sure why you agreed to hang out with her anymore. Maybe because you’re a pushover? You can’t help but wish that Hyunjin and Changbin were here to rescue you from this situation. The thought makes you laugh, knowing that Changbin would try to radiate an intimidating energy to get guys to back off and Hyunjin would cling to you dramatically.

“Hey, pretty girl.” The man approaches and takes the seat on your other side. Taking a deep breath, you turn and give him an awkward smile, already thinking of ways you can turn him down gently.

“Hi,” you respond, staring at your drink. The man immediately starts talking. His name is Drew, he’s like 10 years older than you, and he really likes golfing. You nod politely, but after 10 minutes you realize you haven’t even been able to get a single word in. This guy doesn’t really care about you, you realize, he just wants to hear himself talk.

“Excuse me,” you say, standing up. Drew shoots you a nasty look but dismisses you nonetheless, finding someone else to talk to that hopefully cares more than you do.

“Cheryl,” you say, trying to get your friend’s attention. She’s making out with Brad. Just great. “Cheryl!” You say it again, louder, touching her shoulder in the process.

“What?” She snaps, shooting you a dirty look.

“I want to leave.”

She scoffs at you. “You always do this,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t care, I’m sorry. I just really want to leave.” “I tried hooking you up with someone! Can’t you just leave with whatever-his-name?”

“I don’t want to leave with Drew,” you respond bluntly.

“Ugh. Can you stop being such a prude? This is why you’re still a virgin.” She turns over to Brad and laughs with him. They’re laughing at you. For not going home and hooking up with a man 10 years older than you. You feel tears prickling in your eyes, being the target of a joke everyone seems to understand but you. Wordlessly, you shoot your friend the nastiest glare you can accomplish in the moment and leave.

You start walking before you can really think. It’s dark outside and cold, and you don’t really know where you are. Cheryl drove, of course. You can’t help but think that the whole night has been one big mistake. Sighing, you take out your phone and text your group chat, knowing exactly who would come and help you in a time like this.

Y/N Starting sharing their location

Y/N: Hey can someone come pick me up

Binnie: 👍 Hyunjinnie: On my way!

You slump against the cold concrete, letting yourself cry a little bit. Sure, you ruin your pretty makeup that you spent so long on, but who the fuck cares at this point? Wiping your eyes, you see a familiar black car pull up. Before you can stand, Changbin is already getting out of the car.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He pulls you to your feet, examining you for any signs of injury. You look at him, lip trembling, but when your eyes meet you can’t help the sobs that escape. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you into a big hug. He’s warm, and you can smell the musky scent of his cologne from here. You let it comfort you before pulling away.

“Can we just go home?” You ask.

“Of course,” he says, opening the car door for you to get in. Hyunjin shoots you a worried glance from the driver’s seat, and you give him a pathetic smile.

You notice when Changbin starts playing your favorite songs in an attempt to cheer you up, and admittedly you already feel better, though you don’t speak a word for the rest of the drive.

***

When you finally arrive in your apartment, you’re not surprised when Changbin and Hyunjin follow you in. You let out a loud sigh and face the two men looking at you expectantly.

“It went just about as I expected,” you said with a dry laugh. When neither of your friends say anything, you start speaking. The words come out faster than you’d like and you know that you’re word vomiting, but it’s fine. They were used to it by now. “Cheryl was dismissive the whole night and tried to set me up with this guy she had just met, he was like, 10 years older than me and he kind of gave me the creeps… and when I told her I wanted to leave she told me to just go home with him.” You take a deep breath, gauging their reactions. “When I told her no, she called me a virgin prude and laughed at me, so I left.”

The look of anger immediately spread on their faces and you found your own heating up from embarrassment. You looked down out at the ground, willing the tears that pricked at your lash line to go away.

“Y/N…” Changbin’s gentle voice soothed you and you immediately fell into his embrace. You spare a glance at Hyunjin and know that he’s absolutely furious. You wince.

“How dare she,” he starts. Changbin gives him a warning glare and tightens his grip on you.

Pulling away, you tuck your hair behind your ears and look at them sheepishly.

“Maybe she’s right,” you laugh. “Maybe I should’ve just gone home with some random guy. Maybe I should’ve just lost my virginity and gotten it over with.”

“Don’t say that.” It’s Changbin’s stern voice this time that pulls you out of your thoughts.

“But–”

“No,” they say in unison.

“It’s just… everybody else seems to be okay with going out, partying, loosening up, sleeping with people, and then there’s me.”

“Y/N… there’s a reason why you haven’t… slept with anyone yet, right?” Changbin asks. Hyunjin looks at you expectantly.

“I mean, of course. I was waiting for the right person.”

“So you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” Changbin says softly.

“No, but there’s no right person, Changbin. I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore, because there’s never going to be that perfect person. I’m never going to be enough—“

“That’s not true,” Hyunjin says sternly. You give him an exasperated glare and turn around toward your room.

“Is there something you’re seeing that I’m not? Because as far as I can tell, that’s the exact truth and you know it.”

“You don’t have to sleep with anybody just because she’s pushing you to. She’s putting a lot of pressure on you and that makes her a bad friend,” Hyunjin says. “Virginity is a stupid, made up concept anyway. Don’t do it if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to, though!” You say, exasperated. “I just want to see what everybody else sees. Maybe I don’t want to fuck around, but I want to have sex!”

Before you know it you’re pushed up against the wall by Hyunjin, his head buried in your neck and his breathing heavy as if he were trying to control himself. His actions make you dizzy and your breath hitches from his contact on your skin.

“Hyune—“

“We could help.”

“What?” Your stomach drops and your breathing increases at his implications. You’re sure you misheard him.

“We could help you, if you want. You’re more than enough to us, and you should know that. Sleeping with us won’t change that, or make it any more true, but if you want to do it that badly, we’re right here.”

You gulp. “You mean both of you…? At the same time?” You allow yourself to look at Changbin who is standing with his arms crossed and his eyes dark.

“If you’re comfortable with that, yeah,” Changbin nods, meeting your eyes before looking away.

“You should want to do it for the first time with someone who really cares for you,” Hyunjin explains. His hands take place on your hips and start to rub small circles and you find yourself arching into him, already seeking his touch. “Not some random guy at the bar whose name you don’t know and won’t even try to make you cum.” You gasp slightly and Hyunjin smirks, his breath hot against your neck. Changbin lessens the space between you and finds himself at your side, mindlessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And we really care for you,” Changbin adds. You nod at his words as Hyunjin starts to nip at your skin, letting his tongue trace circles until he finds the spots that make you breathless.

“What… if I’m really bad?” You stutter.

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll show you how to do everything… make you feel good. Plus, it’s just us…” Changbin leans in and makes contact with your lips. The kiss is chaste, testing the waters, though you let out a small moan against him. When he smiles against your kiss you smile as well. Alright. You can do this. It’s just Changbin and Hyunjin. You’ve known them forever and you do trust them more than anything, even if they do annoy you and break into your house on your day off.

“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin licks a thick stripe up your neck which makes you hiss, quickly swallowed up when Changbin leans in to kiss you again.

“Yeah.”

You walk to your bedroom and lead the way and even though they had been inside hundreds of times before, this felt different. The air was permeated with the thick scent of desire. You sit on your bed, looking at the floor. “Now what?”

Changbin sits down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Now you relax and let us make you feel good, okay? You can tell us what you like and what you don’t like, and anytime you want us to stop we will. Immediately. Does that sound good?”

You nod your head, your skin becoming flushed.

“Words, baby.” You don’t admit how those words make your heart jump right out of your chest.

“Right. Yes. Okay.”

Hyunjin sits on the bed next to you and you tilt your head to look at him. He starts by grabbing your hair and pulling you into him to meet his lips, and this time the kiss is hot and full of both desire and anticipation of what is to come.

Meanwhile, Changbin’s hands have come up to touch your thighs. You’re still wearing your dress from your night out so you’re more exposed to him than you usually would be. His large hands touch the insides of your thighs and you don’t even realize that you’re squeezing them together until he is pulling them apart, gently but with intent. His thumbs draw circles on the insides, watching the way you react to each movement.

You let out a breath into the kiss which Hyunjin takes as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, allowing himself the opportunity to swirl his tongue against yours.

When Changbin’s fingers finally make their way to your clothed core you let out a moan. You can’t help it. His two fingers slide up and down the fabric that’s already wet, though he focuses on bringing attention right to your clit. You buck your hips up into his hand.

“So needy,” Hyunjin laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Breathlessly you look at him in the eyes and turn away, embarrassed.

His fingers make their way to your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze again.

“It’s a good thing,” he says. “You don’t need to hide. Not from us.” With that, he pulls down the front of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He doesn’t break eye contact when his thumbs start to graze over your nipples in soft circles, teasing.

“Baby, can I take these off?” Changbin asks, his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear. You nod your head vigorously, letting out a soft chuckle from both of the men at your eagerness. When you lift your hips Changbin slides the material off of your legs, now discarded somewhere across the room.

The breath he lets out when he looks at your glistening core leaves you dizzy. “So pretty,” he all but whispers. “Just for us.” He wastes no time before touching you again with purpose. When one of his fingers teases your entrance you realize you’re already a writhing pathetic mess for them. He dips his finger into your entrance shallowly, collecting your wetness before taking it and circling it right back to your clit. Hyunjin continues his ministrations as well, thumbing your sensitive nipples while leaving wet kisses across your neck and face.

“You’re doing so good for us,” he whispers against your ear. You whimper. Your eyes are screwed shut, focused on all of the sensations on your body so you don’t even realize it when Changbin’s tongue makes direct contact with your clit, warm and wet. You gasp and lurch forward at the contact.

“What’re you doing?” you moan. “Oh my God, Changbin, what–?”

“It’s okay, I got you baby. I got you.” His tongue flicks up and down against you, and when he pushes his tongue flat against your clit and you feel his warm breath on your entrance, you finally hear the filthy sounds that are coming out of your own mouth. You try to muffle them with your arm but it’s quickly pulled away.

“Don’t,” Hyunjin says. “Let us hear you. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel.”

“It’s so good… Bin… Please don’t stop,” you plead, eyes meeting his from where he sits between your legs.

His finger starts thrusting in and out of your core at the same time Hyunjin’s lips meet your nipple, tongue flicking across one bud while his hand comes to pinch the other. It feels like a well-orchestrated plan plotted against you, you think. You’re babbling now about how close you are and your hand intertwines in Changbin’s hair. You buck your hips up against his mouth, trying to ride out your release and he lets you use his face for your pleasure happily. When he curls his one finger inside you harshly you cum, pulsing tightly on his digit.

You have half the mind to apologize for being so rough and caught up in the moment, but when you finally open your eyes you gasp. Changbin looks at you with all lust and desire and dark eyes, absolutely entranced by you and with your release completely covering his mouth. When Hyunjin comes off of you with a pop he looks quite similar, and it surprises all of you when you initiate the kiss this time, immediately open mouthed and trying to get as much of him as you can.

“Slow down, slow down,” he says with a shallow breath, pushing you away. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need someone inside of me. Please.” They both gulp, but Hyunjin quickly regains his composure.

“You want just anybody inside you, hmm?” He teases.

“Not just anyone… You, Hyune. Then Changbin. I can take it, please.” They both groan.

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Hyunjin laughs. He helps you out of your dress completely now and it drops to the floor. You now stare completely bare in front of your friends and you think about covering yourself up but it seems they know you better when a hand reaches for your wrist to stop the motion. The words remain unspoken this time, but you know, not in front of them do you need to hide yourself.

Changbin pushes you down gently to lay down on the bed and he lays on his side next to you. The way he stares at you almost makes you queasy, because you know deep down it’s not just lust and desire, but something more… The need to be with you, to see you, for you to be his implicitly. You wonder if he knows that you already are. That you’ve already belonged to them for the longest time. You kiss him and he kisses you back.

In front of you, Hyunjin pulls down his pants. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and try not to let yourself become intimidated. He strokes himself a few times before he positions himself at your entrance. He looks at you, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, Hyunjin. Please.” Your words are soft but you know he’s heard you when his tip breaches your entrance. It’s already a bit of a stretch and you take a deep breath, tilting your head back. Changbin rubs circles into your arm to soothe you and you find that it works. Hyunjin shallowly thrusts out and then back in, allowing himself to get just a bit deeper. He slowly repeats the action until he’s flush against you, his hips meeting yours. The feeling is foreign but not painful, you decide.

You watch Changbin lick his finger and then move it down to your clit, gently applying pressure. While Hyunjin hasn’t started moving yet, this allows you to relax a little bit more and your brain decides suddenly that it feels really good.

“You’re doing so good for us,” Changbin says, repeating Hyunjin’s words from earlier.

“S’good,” Hyunjin agrees. “Such a good pussy. You feel so good around me, love.” He starts to thrust now, though slow and gentle, and you start moaning. It feels different than anything you’d ever experienced before, though you know you really like it.

“Faster,” you say. Hyunjin follows your directions instantly, watching and scrutinizing every reaction you make to ensure it’s completely pleasurable for you. Changbin’s hands are all over your body, grounding you; his hands rub up and down your arms and your tits, touching any area of skin accessible to him.

Your hips start to buck up to meet Hyunjin’s. You’re getting close, you realize, though when Hyunjin picks up your legs and puts them over his shoulder, you gasp. He’s now reaching impossibly deeper inside you, and at this angle he’s able to completely control the pace. He hits that gummy spot deep inside you, one that you had never achieved reaching yourself before, and when he hits it your orgasm washes over you without warning.

You cum with a cry, pulsing tightly around his cock. His moans are louder and you can tell he’s getting closer too but he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing steadies he pulls out of you and releases all over your stomach and you watch in awe.

Taking two fingers, you scoop up his release and put it in your mouth, sucking it off your fingers. The two men groan at your actions which makes you smirk.

“Changbin?” You ask, beckoning the man.

“Are you sure, baby?” He asks, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort.

“Want you too,” you say. It’s Hyunjin’s turn to slump next to you and he does so, wrapping his arms around you while Changbin takes his position.

When Changbin pushes into you you let out an unabashed moan, pushing yourself into Hyunjin’s chest to ground yourself. He shushes you and combs his fingers through your hair. The stretch is different this time, as Changbin’s thicker but Hyunjin is longer.

“Feels good, Binnie,” you say.

“I know,” he responds. “I got you. Let me take over, okay?” And he does, at first cautious of his pace to not hurt you, but he soon follows up with a brutal pace that has your head spinning. He feels delicious inside of you just like Hyunjin did, and when you get close this time you don’t feel embarrassed by the loud sounds that come out of your body. You’re so close to your peak, almost there… when Changbin pulls out. You make a sound that comes out as a whine, but before you can complain further you’re flipped onto your hands and knees.

Changbin teases his cock up and down your wet slit, sensitive and already so close to an orgasm, and the sound you make is downright pathetic.

“You want it?” Changbin teases.

“Oh my God, please… Changbin please, I was so close, don’t tease,” you beg. Hyunjin practically coos and his lips meet yours right as Changbin sinks back into you. You feel delirious from the pleasure and it doesn’t take long before you cum again. Hyunjin’s kisses drink up all of the moans and breaths that come from your body as Changbin pounds into you.

Changbin and Hyunjin spit praise at you as you finish, and shortly after you feel Changbin’s release all over your ass. You slump onto the bed, tired, and welcome Hyunjin’s arms around your frame. You nuzzle deeper into his embrace, entirely content. You barely register when Changbin comes to clean you off and then lays next to you. You’re in between your two favorite people in the entire world, completely safe and content. You let out a happy sigh.

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin questions. You almost laugh.

“Of course I did. I couldn’t imagine a better first time. Thank you… Thank you both.”

“Do you think you’ll regret it?” Hyunjin asks.

“No. Never.” You look at his worried gaze and press a firm kiss to his lips. You’re satisfied laying between the two men, relishing their soft touches and warm embraces when you have a thought that makes you laugh.

“Cheryl is going to be thrilled,” you say with an eye roll.

Hyunjin groans. “God. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve to know. In fact, you should block her,” he reasons.

“Yeah. She’s kind of a bitch,” Changbin agrees. You and Hyunjin look at him wide-eyed, not used to him talking about other people like that. Then all three of you laugh. You look at Changbin and can tell that there’s something else that he wants to say.

“I don’t want you to do this with anybody else,” he says with a deep sigh. “I want it to be us. Just me and Hyunjin. I don’t want anybody else to see you this way.” His words carry a deeper meaning and you know it. You bury your head into his chest and Hyunjin’s arms wrap around your waist.

“I love you both. Do you know that?” You say. You’ve told them a hundred times, but the words needed to be said again. Albeit they are now said in a much more intimate context, you will let them interpret it however they want. They both hum in agreement, repeating the words back to you.

You’re not sure what this meant for your friendships or your relationships, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. The three of you fall asleep in your bed that night in an entanglement of arms and limbs, and you sleep peacefully knowing that no matter what, they would be there for you when you wake up. They have always been there, and they always will be. *** A/N: I'm excited to announce that this is part 1/4 of a SKZ threesome series with various members ;) I have big things planned

Masterlist Recs

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ju1cyfru1t · 9 months

Text

Y/N’s guide of an ornate box turtle mutant

fluff :)

(Rise!Mikey x reader)

gn reader, romantic leaning but can be read as platonic

In which Mikey stumbles upon your documentation on himself.

Donnie’s version Leo’s version Raph’s version

☻Subject of interest

Ornate Box turtle mutant; humanoid turtle man

Special note: subject appears to have developed several personas

☻ Diet:

Pizza, sweets (favors cupcakes), fruits, Dr.Pepper (likes to try new things; bring specimen new snacks?)

☻ Likes:

Orange, baking + cooking, stickers (reminder: buy goo gone), painting, emotional vulnerability (Donnie warns; be cautious of ‘Dr.Feelings’), horror films, romance films (subject cries?), cuddling (nts: subject holds tight), helping others (even if they don’t deserve it, not going to name any names they know who they are), Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games)

☻ Dislikes:

Being snuck up on (will cause turtle to refuse to come out of shell), lying, seeing people sad (note: subject is concerningly good at reading emotions),

——> subject does not seem to dislike many things. subject is very, strangely optimistic.

☻ Tail language ❌leave tail alone, do not startle the subject.(will hide in shell) he is sensitive and sassy❌

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, upset. not very common, but can soothe turtle with (gentle) shell scratches.

wagging: excited, happy, energetic. typically while talking about Jupiter Jim? and other likes? (see above) (tip: will increase w/ shell scratches)

still and loose: relaxed, sad. very rare, specimen is very energetic, only relaxed when asleep. sad turtle most soothed by being held???

——————————————————————————

Mikey smiled happily to himself, laying on his plastron in his room. He read your words carefully, really taking it in. You really have this crime-fighting silly little ninja giggling and kicking his feet.

It just felt so good knowing you cared so much about him. Not that he didn’t know before, but it’s always nice to be reminded just how much you really, truly did. Him. Not Leo, or Donnie, or Raph. Just him.

Of course Mikey had noticed you acting a little sketchy around him, and had even asked you what was up but with the same response of nothing every time. He was a little relieved this was all it was.

The guilt slowly poured into him as he realized this was probably a violation of your privacy. His curiosity got the better of him when he saw the folder in your backpack with his name on it after you left it in his room. He totally betrayed your trust!

After some very nervous thought, he knew he needed to make it up to you somehow…right?

——————————————————————————

☻Subject of interest

Ornate Box turtle mutant; humanoid turtle man

Special note: subject appears to have developed several personas. such as Dr.Delicate Touch, Dr.Feelings, and Dr.Positive. what does this mean? is this normal? Of course!

☻ Diet:

Pizza, sweets (favors cupcakes), fruits, Dr.Pepper (likes to try new things; bring specimen new snacks?) Oooh, I’ll make you a list!

☻ Likes:

Orange my life color, thank you, baking + cooking, stickers (reminder: buy goo gone) you took them off? D:, painting it’s easy when I have such a beautiful muse!, emotional vulnerability (Donnie warns; be cautious of ‘Dr.Feelings’) Whaaat? Donnie doesn’t know what he’s talking about anyway.>:( horror films, romance films (subject cries?) They’re just so sweet!, cuddling (nts: subject holds tight), helping others (even if they don’t deserve it, not going to name any names they know who they are) it’s what I do, baby! Jupiter Jim (movies, comics, games)

☻ Dislikes:

Being snuck up on (will cause turtle to refuse to come out of shell) I like when you carry me Ha ha very funny, lying, seeing people sad (note: subject is concerningly good at reading emotions), (to be continued???)

——> subject does not seem to dislike many things. subject is very, strangely optimistic. Dr.Positive will see you now!

☻ Tail language ❌leave tail alone, do not startle the subject.(will hide in shell) I can’t help it! he is sensitive Nuh uh and sassy❌

twitching rapidly: threatened, scared, upset. not very common, but can soothe turtle with (gentle) shell scratches. I agree, the subject would like that very much.

wagging: excited, happy, energetic. typically while talking about Jupiter Jim? and other likes??? (see above) (tip: will increase w/ shell scratches) Maybe you should test that hypothesis again! Just to be sure. ;D

still and loose: relaxed, sad. very rare, specimen is very energetic, only relaxed when asleep. sad turtle most pacified by being held??? Again, you should probably continue to test that theory.

Beautiful work! But, I would keep in close contact with the subject. You know, for research purposes.

Love you!

- Mikey🧡

p.s. I’m really sorry for looking through your stuff

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TYSM FOR READING🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

3 DOWN 1 LEFT 🤺

(also I’m still working on requests, and they are still open)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise mikey #tmnt michelangelo #mikey x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise michelangelo #tmnt #mikey hamato #rise mikey x reader #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt mikey #rise april #rise donnie #rise donatello #rise leo #rise raph

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kentopedia · 11 months

Text

piece of cake

FEATURING. nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 9.8k

SUMMARY: nanami can't help but notice your strange behavior, and he begins to grow suspicious (aka you throw him a surprise birthday party)

CONTENTS: sorcerer!reader, nanami's bday, husband nanami, reader & nanami povs, gojo being the bestest friend, also everyone loves nanamin!! very very light angst, slight misunderstandings, and ofc nanami being the love of my life. sfw!!!

note: this ended up way longer than i intended! the ending is a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish it before his birthday ended. i love this sweet man so much :(

Nanami didn’t want to be that kind of man.

He knew that letting his thoughts wander into accusations were a one-way ticket to unfounded miscommunication. It was senseless to even go there; coming up with wild solutions that he couldn’t back up would only cause problems that didn’t need to happen in the first place.

With his whole heart, Nanami trusted you. He loved you, and he had never doubted that you felt the same. Honesty was important, and you were both mature enough to understand that communication was the only way to make a relationship work.

He reminded himself of that whenever his mind was clouded with uncertainty.

There was still a small twinge of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone, and day after day, it became more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t concerned. Every time he tried to speak with you about your strange behavior, you’d talked him into circles, bringing him right back to the beginning of the question like he’d never asked it at all.

Nanami tried to tell himself he was creating something out of nothing, but for weeks, you’d been coming home late, you were always on the phone, and he would have been an optimist or an idiot if he truly believed you weren’t hiding something.

When he really put his mind to it, he could stop himself from coming to unfathomable conclusions. You’d never given him reason to doubt you, even if your behavior had become suspicious as of late.

What he couldn’t diminish was the deeply buried fear that, maybe, you wanted someone more than him.

The entire mess had started just a month ago, when he’d stumbled into the lounge at the high school, a book tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. Lunch hour had just ended.

Nanami visited you at the school often, and at this time, you were almost always training Maki, or switching off a class with another sorcerer. Your schedule rarely deviated, and if you weren’t in the middle of teaching, it was because they’d needed you elsewhere.

So, of course, he was surprised to see you were doing neither of those things. Instead, you were in the lounge with Gojo, talking in hushed voices while you stood strangely close to one another.

Your back was turned towards the door when Nanami entered, and you gesticulated wildly with your hands. Between your speed and the low volume of your voice, Nanami couldn’t catch a word of what you were saying. It was obvious that you were excited, and Gojo leaned up against the back counter with an indulgent smile, placing his fingertips to his chin thoughtfully.

Nanami wasn’t sure whether or not to announce his presence, so he let the door slam shut behind him, breaking up your enigmatic conversation.

You whipped around in surprise, your eyes wide. In a similar manner, Gojo’s head darted up like he had no idea Nanami had entered at all. The scene would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so unfamiliar.

“Nanamin!” Gojo stumbled around the first syllable of his name before recovering smoothly, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “When did you get in? I thought your assignment wasn’t until later this afternoon?”

As Nanami slid into the room, he glanced between you and Gojo with pinched eyebrows, attempting to ignore his unusually awkward behavior. Gojo slid across the countertop, slowly inching away from you until he hit the edge.

“Kento!” you said, in a voice that was much squeakier than your normal tone as you shattered the silence. “You’re here early.”

Nanami had long since given up on trying to understand Gojo Satoru’s behavior, but you were a different case entirely. Your smile was lopsided and uncomfortable, and you wiped your hands on your sides like you weren’t sure what to do with them.

He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or glad to see him. His features pinched tighter, and he shook off the nasty voice of mistrust that threatened to cloud his logical mind. “I’ve been asked to take Itadori with me today. Apparently, someone’s been telling the principal that I’m a good influence on him.” He took off his glasses, meeting your eyes pointedly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

You smiled sheepishly, drawing closer to him like a magnet. As you left Gojo’s side to stand beside Nanami, that sharp coil of irritation within him released. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and everything was just as it should be.

“I had nothing to do with this,” you said with a small shrug, fixing the tie that was already straight, as if looking for a reason to touch him. “What would make you think that?”

Nanami rolled his eyes at you, knowing you’d had everything to do with it, and gave you an exasperated smile.

You released his lapels shortly after to check the time and frowned when you realized how late it had gotten. “I have to go.” You pecked him on the cheek with a grin, and though Gojo was watching from behind the dark blindfold, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care. “Maki’s meeting me soon, and I don’t want to make her wait. See you later, Kento.”

He squeezed your hand, the action almost imperceptible as you waved to the other man over your shoulder. “Bye, Gojo.”

Gojo returned the action, his lips pulled together playfully as he returned his focus to Nanami. Although he’d seen the two of you together on numerous occasions, his favorite pastime was teasing the younger man about any sign of affection.

Nanami sighed, suspecting that he’d have to tolerate Gojo for the next half-hour until Itadori was back. He took a long sip of coffee that scalded his throat and sat down on the couch.

The silence lasted until Gojo crept unfortunately closer, lurking like a cat until Nanami huffed, the sign of irritation that Gojo had been waiting for. The white-haired man drew out Nanami’s name like a song, and then plopped himself down on the chair across from him, blabbering on about things that Nanami really didn’t want to listen to.

When he realized five minutes had passed without Gojo even taking a breath, he gritted his teeth, and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends with my wife.”

That wasn’t entirely the truth. Nanami had known that you’d gotten closer to Gojo since you’d started working for the school part-time, but you talked about him about as often as you talked about your other colleagues. About as much as Nanami talked about Gojo.

You’d never made it seem like he was the type of person you swapped secrets with in the lounge while everyone else was off on a break.

“Really?” Gojo drew out the word dramatically, his mouth curling into a pout. “I’d say we’re good friends, actually.” He tipped his head back, leaning against the chair with uncharacteristic seriousness. “We mostly talk about you, though. I know you better than I know her.”

“That’s a shame.” Nanami flipped the page, finishing the last bit of his coffee, and feigned irritation, even if he was warmed by the thought of you talking about him so much. “She’s much more interesting than me.”

Gojo laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Nanami began to grow frightened that he might actually be roped into an actual, amicable conversation with the man.

“Aww,” he cooed sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Nanamin. I know you’re probably worried we’ll become better friends, but you were my friend first.”

Nanami glanced up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’m really not worried about that.” He kicked his leg out, the beginnings of a headache forming in his temple. “I’m more concerned that she’ll invite you over for dinner. I’d like to refrain from any interactions with you outside of work.”

Gojo made a face and then whined dramatically. “You’re so mean to me.” He wiped a hand over his eyes like he was shedding tears.

Nanami sighed.

A few days later, when he took Itadori out for another training session, he began asking Nanami too many questions about his personal life. That fact wasn’t as suspicious as it was frustrating. He couldn’t help that Itadori was curious, but he could’ve asked him these things on the ride over, or while they were at the school.

Invasive questions in the middle of a potential life or death situation were not exactly ones Nanami wanted to tolerate.

“So… what kind of places do you like to shop?”

The question was completely unrelated to his lesson and completely out of the blue. Nanami stopped, eyeing the teenager with undisguised skepticism. “Itadori. I’m not answering that kind of question when we’re in the middle of something serious.” He thought about his words, and quickly rephrased them. “Actually, I’m not answering that question at all.”

Itadori stared back, his face falling theatrically. Nanami could’ve guessed from that expression alone that he’d been spending far too much time with Gojo. “Fine.” He relented, drawing out the word as he scurried to catch up with Nanami, who was already paces ahead.

He let a few minutes pass before his next question.

“Where are your favorite places to eat?”

Nanami closed his eyes to regain his patience. “I’m not answering that either.”

A huff of disappointment. “Well, can I ask about your favorite—”

“No.”

Itadori’s glower turned into something more like a realistic frowny face. Nanami tried to refrain from snapping at him in order to regain his focus. “What can I ask?”

“Anything that you will gain valuable insight from.” Itadori opened his mouth, and Nanami quickly sensed his next words. “Insight that isn’t about me.”

He deflated once more. “Okay, fine.” For a few more moments, he surrendered, letting the conversation stall. Nanami should’ve known better than to expect peace and quiet for long. “So… what days will you be going on assignments? Do you have like… a set schedule, or do you usually get called in?”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the creak of a floorboard upstairs. There were curses nearby, and if Itadori continued yammering on without paying attention, that would spell a lot of trouble for him and the kid. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I’m just curious.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you now isn’t the time.”

Itadori opened his mouth, but then seemed to register the sound of cursed spirits, and he finally sobered his attention. His expression changed to one of seriousness, and, thankfully, he let the topic go.

After a particularly stressful mission, Nanami went to the bakery that the two of you frequented, the one that had been the site of many of your dates throughout the years.

It was a quiet little café at the edge of the city, a perfect middle-ground between your home and the school. When he’d been working in the office, and you were still a sorcerer, you’d met him there on numerous occasions, usually bruised and battered, but never without a beautiful smile.

He stretched his back behind him as he headed through the door, his clothes dirtied from fighting and his hair in disarray. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted, wanting just to go home and curl in bed to await your return.

It was a small daydream that would carry him through his last few hours of working, so long as no cursed spirits popped up in his vicinity of patrolling. There seemed to be more and more lately, and if he wasn’t being called off to go fight, then you were, leaving no time for either of you to be with each other.

As he crossed the threshold, another man was exiting, seemingly in a big hurry and carrying a coffee that he almost splashed all over Nanami’s chest.

Reeling in his irritation, Nanami began a polite, “Excuse me,” before realizing who had nearly trampled over him. “Gojo. What are you doing here.”

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Gojo greeted with a wide grin, like he wasn’t the one infiltrating one of Nanami’s sacred, headache-free spaces.

Nanami cringed, looking at the coffee in Gojo’s hand and the white pastry bag, immediately recognizing the contents. It was your favorite drink, the dessert you got once a week; you’d been ordering the same thing for the past two months, always getting hooked on new things before you eventually tired of them. He knew the order by heart.

“Sorry, I really wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got important goods to deliver.” He held up the bag and the cup, a receipt folded up between his fingers. Bitterly, Nanami noticed he hadn’t bought anything for himself. For someone with such a sweet tooth, it seemed hard to believe that he’d refrained from indulging.

Which, Nanami concluded with annoyance, meant that he’d come specifically for you. He checked his watch, pushing away the negative emotions. Even though you could’ve called him if you wanted something, like you always did, you’d asked Gojo instead. “She’s not on a break?”

“Some students wanted her help with some things. I told her I didn’t mind getting her something if she wanted to take a break later this afternoon.” Gojo flattened his blindfold over his eyes, the material bunching up around his nose. “Everyone’s out today, anyway.”

“I see,” Nanami said, hating the unnecessary sting in his chest. You knew he’d been working, and even though he told you where he was going, you probably hadn’t seen the message. If you were busy, then he couldn’t expect you to be checking your phone. “Well, tell her I said hello, then.”

“Will do,” Gojo saluted cartoonishly and flitted out the door, smiling with a kind of glee that Nanami, stupidly, wanted to wipe off his face.

Those separate incidents with Gojo had annoyed him, of course, but he knew they weren’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about the interactions entirely, until another week passed and Nanami slowly started to wonder if you spent more time with the white-haired man than the one you were in a relationship with.

You’d woken up before him that morning, and Nanami opened his eyes to a colder bed and the sound of hushed music softly playing from behind the bathroom door.

It was a cooler day for June. You’d opened the window, and there were dark clouds gathering in the sky, a sign that it was going to storm any time now. He stretched his stiff back, padding to the hallway, where he could see the light coming from the bathroom, the door cracked open. The smell of your perfume wafted through, and Nanami had half a sense to drag you back to the bed and keep you there until the weekend was over.

He pushed the door open further, leaning against the threshold to watch you swipe pink gloss over your puckered lips. Your makeup was freshly powdered, your hair done up in its usual manner.

Nanami smiled, leaning against the door frame as he watched you finish getting ready. “Where are you going this morning, pretty girl?”

You blinked at him through the mirror, putting the tube of lip gloss back in the bag before turning to him with a smile. You looked so sweet, and he yearned for you, almost in disbelief that you’d been together for so long. “I’m taking the kids shopping in the city with Gojo today.” You wrapped your arms around his stomach, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Want me to cook tonight?”

Nanami brushed your cheek, feeling that annoying wave of irritation return to claw at him. He didn’t care that you were spending time with Gojo—he shouldn’t care. Your students would be there too, and you’d been happier ever since you started working at the school. The first and second years cared about you so much already, and Gojo was a much less annoying friend to you than he was to Nanami.

He liked seeing you so happy, despite the toll that the job often took on you. “Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up groceries, anyway. I’ll do that while you’re out.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. Although you’d meant for it to be quick, Nanami had wrapped an arm around your lower back, pressing you closer, deepening the kiss. He ruined your lipstick, smearing it all over his mouth, but he didn’t care.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, holding you close to him.

“I’m still in my pajamas.” You laughed, your cheeks growing warm as you drew away from him, teasingly dodging his final kiss. “Are you sure you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll probably miss you too much.” As you fixed your lipstick, Nanami went back to the bedroom, rifling through his coat pocket for his wallet. He tossed the gold card on the bathroom counter, where your purse was laying.

You eyed him over your shoulder. “No.”

He stared back, just as seriously. “Yes. Buy yourself something nice, sweetheart.” He thought of the young teenager he’d been mentoring, who’d been putting in his best effort, and who he’d, unfortunately, come to care about quite a lot. “Itadori too. Just don’t tell him it’s from me.”

You blinked, before your expression changed into something so bright, Nanami would’ve done everything in his power to keep it there. “I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With an affection so full that it threatened to burst out of your chest, you jumped towards him, wrapping yourself up in his arms. He kissed your temple and breathed, remembering just how much he didn’t want to lose you.

You were true to your word, always. You came back when you promised, you told him where you were going, but Nanami noticed that you’d been even more secretive since you went shopping with Gojo and your students. When he asked your plans, you were even more vague. When you didn’t return with any shopping bags, he found it odd that you smelled of a cologne he didn’t wear.

He reminded himself of how much he trusted you—he really, really didn’t think you would lie to him, but he couldn’t deny that your behavior was confusing him.

Nanami finished off his tea, eyes across the room as he watched you type wildly on your phone, your brows crinkled. You sent a message then waited for a response, impatiently pacing across the kitchen.

He called your name, but you didn’t respond, too enraptured in whatever it was that you were doing. You seemed to be attached to your cell phone these days, always having a call to respond to, and always jumping when he was a little too close to seeing your messages.

Yesterday, Gojo’s name had popped up on your screen with a message, and you’d crawled across Nanami’s lap to get the phone before he could even think to hand it to you. Nanami had done nothing but stare back at you, and you’d smiled at him, embarrassed, still hiding the screen from him as you read the message.

He really, really didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But these days, you were spending all your free time with Gojo, and you grew defensive every time he tried to bring it up.

“Are you done with the tea?” Nanami asked again, piling up the dirty dishes from where he sat, noticing your cup was still half-full, but lukewarm.

You chewed your thumbnail anxiously, bouncing your leg as you waited for the person on the other end to reply. The phone shook in your hands, and you read through it again, obviously disappointed by the short response. He could’ve guessed who you were talking to, even if he didn’t want to.

Nanami frowned and called your name one more time. Finally, you looked up.

“What?” you asked, and then came to understand his question. The tea sat, unenjoyed, and shame marred your features. “Oh. I’m sorry. No, I’m not finished.” You frowned, tucking the phone back into your pocket before rushing over to your seat. “I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, and Nanami stared, waiting for you to finish your explanation, even though you let it die there. “It’s been busy at work.”

Nanami hated how easily he could tell you were lying. He sighed, rubbing his temples as your phone rang again. This time, though, you kept it in your pocket.

It had been like that for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with any possible explanation other than the most distressing one.

“Kento?” you asked in a small voice, noting his obvious discontent. “Is everything alright?”

He looked up at you, your eyes so wide and full of concern, and even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. His chin fell, arms resting limply at his sides as you looked back at him, waiting for a response. “Is everything alright with you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, shifting where you stood. “Just busy. Like I said.”

The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to say what they really wanted to. Never once in your life had you had a problem with communicating, but it felt like now, you were hitting a wall.

All he could do was try his best. If you didn’t want to answer him, he couldn’t make you.

“Okay,” he said, taking your hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed your palm, then the inside of your wrist, before massaging the center of it. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. If anything…” he steadied himself for his next words. “If anything changes between us, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”

Your eyebrows creased, before understanding seemed to dawn upon you. “Kento,” you said, dropping his hand to come around the table to climb into his lap, placing your hands on both of his cheeks. “Kento, no.”

“You’ve just been a bit—”

“I’m sorry,” you said, and he couldn’t help but draw back into you, smile when you kissed him all over his face, pressing the affirmations into his skin. “I’m not trying to be distant, really. Things are just busy right now, I promise.” You curled your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Nanami brought his arms around your hips, settling you on his thighs.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes softened at your frown, and he brushed his thumb under your shirt, grounding himself against your skin. “I love you.”

That put a smile back on your face, and you kissed him, whispering the same words against his lips.

Now, though he wasn’t so sure he believed what you were saying, as much as he wanted to. Maybe you were just busy at work, but you were certainly hiding something from him.

He knew that everyone had their secrets, but maybe it would’ve stung less if you’d just admitted you were hiding something from him.

The following week was the same routine, and as the workdays ended, Nanami saw you less and less each evening. You spent the majority of your time in the city center, and though you were often with your students, you were also with Gojo, and something about that fact was difficult to swallow.

Nanami felt a little sour that you never asked him to go too. He began to wonder if you were purposefully avoiding him, or if the students disliked him as much as he’d thought they did.

It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he didn’t want to be overbearing, to seem like he was the kind of man who wanted to control where you were going and spending your time with. He just wished you spared a little bit more of it for him, was all.

He woke with that thought in his mind as he rolled over on the cold bed, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. When he realized the spot beside him was empty, he blinked himself awake wearily, adjusting his eyes to the dark.

The hall light was on, a yellow glow peeking through the cracks under the door, and he frowned as he heard the sound of your voice, low and hushed.

Nanami weighed his decision. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and though you often went to bed much later than him, a phone call at this time was pushing it. He climbed out of the bed, padding quietly over the door to see if he could catch a part of the conversation.

It felt like a breach of trust, and he didn’t want to seem like he was spying on you.

He pressed his ear to the door, waiting for your voice, though it was silent. Half a minute passed. His hands curled around the knob, and he shouldn’t be trying to listen in, he should just go out there and ask you if anything was wrong, and then—

“Gojo, I don’t know what to tell him.”

Nanami stopped, swallowing down his breath to still all noises from his body. He squeezed his fist tighter until his knuckles had gone pale, hearing you murmur under your breath. There were a lot of words he couldn’t catch, and he wrinkled his forehead, trying to catch a hint of context in what you were saying.

“I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out—”

Your voice dropped quiet again.

Nanami felt something fall in his chest as he released the doorknob. He was too tired to think about it rationally, and if he listened anymore, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He stepped away from the door, his lips etched permanently into a frown.

After Kento had fallen asleep, you’d grabbed your phone off the nightstand, going through the to-do list that you’d created for his birthday.

You hadn’t meant for it to get so out-of-hand. He didn’t usually like big celebrations, and he’d never made a big deal of his birthday in the past. Though in your eyes, that was exactly why you needed to do something different for him this year.

Things had been going so well, and from what you could tell, everyone in your close circle cared about him more than he realized. It was the only way you could think to show that to him.

You’d just wanted to do something special for him, and it had turned into long shopping trips with Satoru Gojo, and secretive meetings with your students to make sure everything went exactly as you’d planned it.

And things were going according to plan… Only, you were starting to feel like your attempts at secrecy were sabotaging your relationship, and you feared that Kento thought the worst of your late nights out and your newly formed friendship with Gojo.

It was obvious that you were lying, and every time he brought it up, he seemed to become even more doubtful of your actions.

You flipped the hallway light on, dialing Gojo’s number, feeling antsy in your own skin. After two rings, he answered, his voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.

“Hello?”

“Gojo,” you said in a panic, rubbing your hand over your face with a kind of distress that he couldn’t even see. “I don’t know what to tell him.”

A beat of silence as he gathered his thoughts. “What?”

You almost felt bad for waking him up, but part of this was his fault. He’d been insistent on being a part of the plan, and now, he needed to listen to your apprehensions about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly been sneaky either.

“Kento.” you said, pacing back and forth in the hallway, your voice rising to a high-pitched shriek, even as you tried to muffle your words. “He’s been asking me so many questions, and I’m so bad at coming up with answers. I’m seeming like a horrible person.”

Gojo hummed on the other line, and you hated how nonchalant he seemed about all of this. This was your relationship, and he was just sitting happily in his home, with the receipt for a cake that had cost way too much, and gifts for a man that had started to doubt you even cared about him at all. “Well…”

“Gojo,” you said his name again, sternly.

“Sorry.” He sighed. “Nanami’s a tough person to keep a secret from. Just keep telling him what you’ve been telling him: we’ve been assigned to more cases together, work is too busy, et cetera, et cetera. That’s fine.”

“But he knows that’s not true.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration prickling at you. Either Kento was much too perceptive for his own good, or you were just awful at planning surprises. “I’m being too suspicious. I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out, then all the secrecy would have been for nothing.”

Gojo was silent on the other end of the other line. It seemed he was absolutely horrible at consoling you, unlike the man in the other room who was sleeping soundly, unbeknownst to the fact that you were doing this all for him. “Look, it’s only for a couple more days, right? You can keep the secret until then, can’t you?”

You swallowed, steeling yourself for one last week of misery. You weren’t sure you could continue to stand the look of disappointment on Kento’s face every time you did something out of character. “I guess so. Thanks.” You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight.” He hung up, and you stared at the phone once more, trudging back into the other room.

You couldn’t help the guilt that had settled deep in your gut. Even if you were lying to Kento for something special, you knew how it looked on your end. You weren’t good at dispelling his accusations; every time you opened your mouth, you just incriminated yourself more.

You couldn’t wait until his birthday. Things would go back to normal, then, and he could finally see that everyone cared about him more deeply than he realized.

Rubbing your eyes with exhaustion, you crawled back into the space where you always slept. Although, this time, you realized Kento was not asleep like you’d left him but was blinking back at you with concern in his dark eyes.

You jumped, startled for a moment, before settling back down. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay.” He grasped your hand tightly, and you let him, let him drag you close in his arms as he curled around you. “Is something wrong?”

You tensed, and immediately realized that was a mistake. Fuck. You were so horrible at this. You should’ve just let Gojo and Itadori plan the entire thing, and maybe it would’ve been a disaster, but it also would’ve saved you a lot of unnecessary anxiety. “Everything’s fine.”

That didn’t exactly answer his question. Nanami turned on his side, the two of you staring face to face on the pillows. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes darting to each one of yours like he was trying to decipher a message. Then, he sighed. “Was… someone calling?”

“Just Gojo.”

“Gojo?” Nanami repeated, and though he seemed annoyed at the mention of him, at least he knew you were being honest about that. “Why the hell is Gojo calling you in the middle of the night?”

You blinked, realizing you actually had no good lie to cover that one. “Umm…” you played with Nanami’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles as he stared back at you patiently. “He wanted to know if I could cover for him in the morning. He’s… not feeling so well.”

You’d have to text him immediately so that he didn’t come to the school until later. Not that he would mind skipping out on a few hours of work, but even that didn’t seem to convince Kento. He opened his mouth, and shut it, as if trying to carefully put his words together. “That’s all?”

He said it in a way that made you think he was giving you an opening, like you had the option to tell him the truth if you wanted. Of course, you couldn’t reveal what you were hiding, but he didn’t know that.

You sighed, and smiled, kissing him as you curled your hands into his hair. “That’s all, Ken. I really am sorry I woke you up.”

Nanami stared back at you for a moment before forcing a smile, returning your kiss with all his fondness. He brushed your hair away from your face and kissed your cheeks before closing his eyes once more.

When the day of Nanami’s birthday arrived, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t panic if everything wasn’t perfect. He’d appreciate the sentiment, no matter what. Things didn’t have to go by the book for them to be meaningful.

Regardless, you went through your mental to-do sheet, made the final reservation for your dinner, and prayed that everything went as you intended.

Though you were usually not a morning person, you’d gotten up earlier than Kento to fix his coffee the way he always preferred, taking a quiet moment to still your excited nerves. When his usual alarm went off, at the same time every morning, you carried the mug back with you to the bedroom and smiled softly at his sleepy form.

You set the coffee down before he could fully gain consciousness, and sprang on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face until his surprise slowly melted, and he was hugging you tightly.

“Happy birthday.”

Kento smiled up at you groggily, his eyes still drooping with sleep as he curled a hand around your jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, hugging you tight as he whispered, “thank you,” the touch of the words barely there at all.

You relaxed in his presence, sitting back as you handed him the coffee, to which his expression grew even more gentle. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed you again on the forehead, making you melt, just as he always did.

“What do you want to do today?” you asked as you laid on his chest, staring up at him with every ounce of love you had to offer. “I have dinner reservations, but you’ve got all day until then.”

Nanami laughed, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “It doesn’t matter. We can just spend it like any normal day.”

You frowned. “That’s not anything special. It’s your birthday.”

“It’s just a birthday.” He squeezed your arm before maneuvering you gently off of him so that he could sit up on the bed. “Besides, every moment I spend with you is special. I’m happy to just sit around and do nothing until dinner.” Kento seemed to notice your displeased expression, even though your heart had swelled at his comment. “Unless there was something you wanted to do instead…”

He climbed out of the bed, taking one sip of the steaming coffee before setting it back down.

“It’s not my birthday.” You watched him gather his clothes up off the floor with a sigh, the muscles in his back clenching as he bent over. “I want to do what you want to do.”

“And I told you I didn’t care.” He smiled playfully at you, tugging his shirt on over his head. Then, he reached over and squeezed your hand, coming back to where you sat, your legs swung over the side of the mattress.

“Kento.” You pulled him back down with a pointed expression, your faces close, lips almost touching. “I’m serious.”

He stared back at you for a moment, before relenting. “Alright.” Kento bent down, kissing you once more before going into the bathroom. “Let me shower, and we’ll go get some breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Is that what you want to do?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Although you could tell he was amused by your insistence, he softened, his eyes melting into hearts as he turned. “That’s what I want to do. Happy?”

“Very.” You shoved him away, laughing. “Go take a shower. You’re not getting any younger.”

He rolled his eyes and retreated into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind him.

When the water started running and Kento was definitely in the shower, you hurriedly dialed Gojo’s number, begging him to pick up. After the third dial, when you were certain he wouldn’t answer, a short tone cut through the line.

“What’s wrong?” he answered, clearly amused. There was shuffling on the other end, and some sort of yelp. Your brows pinched together.

As you listened closely to make sure the shower water wouldn’t turn off unexpectedly, you frowned. Your leg shook with anticipation. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Gojo released a breath, though his voice grew mumbled on the other end. “Well, you normally only call me if you’re panicking about the birthday situation, so—”

There was a scream. You dragged your hand down your face, as he said something sharply to someone on the other side of the call.

“Gojo?”

“Yeah?” Another sound, this one of extreme pain. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re exorcising a curse right now.”

He paused, and then the sound stopped, everything going silent on his side. “Well… I’m not anymore.”

You wanted to say that you were shocked he’d bothered to pick up the phone at all, but… You weren’t, really. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Unfortunately, cursed spirits don’t know it’s Nanamin’s birthday, so they just keep coming.” He sighed. “What a bummer. If they were nicer, I’d invite them to the birthday party.”

You snorted. “Right. I’m certain Kento would love that.”

Gojo laughed. “So, what were you calling about? If it’s to panic over your much too long list of things for me to do, don’t worry. Everything’s in order.”

“Really? Did you wrap the presents?”

He hummed. “Megumi did.”

You closed your eyes, holding back a sigh. That was probably for the best, anyway. You’d never seen Gojo wrap a gift, but you weren’t sure how it’d look if he did. “Okay… What about the decorations?”

“Itadori is bringing those over once you two leave.”

A part of you wanted to get frustrated with him for doing absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t his fault he had to work, even if he’d promised to help you out. At least he was delegating the tasks. One way or another, it would get done. “Are you going to help him at all?”

“Have a little bit more faith in me than that. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“No I’m not. Did you get him a birthday card?”

“I think Maki offered to do that. And before you ask your next question, yes everyone’s going to be there on time. Kugisaki followed up with everyone.”

“Oh my god… Did you do anything, Satoru?”

“I picked up the cake.” A beat of silence. “Well, I haven’t yet. I’m going right now. I got a little side-tracked.”

He’d given you no reason to doubt him, really. But you were still afraid that something would go wrong, and you’d be left without a cake, in the middle of a very important birthday. “Fine, but just know that I’m texting Megumi in an hour to come check on you. I can only keep Kento out of the house for so long, so you need to make sure it’s perfect.”

“You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Once you’d sent Gojo the final list of things that needed to be done, you put your phone away, promising yourself that it would not be a point of stress while you were at dinner with Nanami. You’d reserved a table at his favorite restaurant and dressed up nicer than you had in a while.

After breakfast, the two of you meandered around the city for the rest of the day until your reservation, as you tried to think of anything that could keep him away from home. Worried that he would catch on, you continued to diffuse his concerns, kissing him with a smile as you pulled him along to the next place you could think of.

And though he’d protested, saying that you didn’t have to dedicate your entire day to him, you couldn’t think of another way that you’d want to be spending it.

When the evening started to fall, you made your way to the restaurant, and the phone buzzed in your bag. You gritted your teeth and ignored it.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go home?” Kento asked you, swinging your hand in his between the two of you. Neither of you had ever been big on public displays of affection, but holding hands through the streets was one of the nicest feelings you’d come to experience. “We have time.”

“No,” you said a little too quickly, and he eyed you curiously, almost stopping in his tracks. “We better get there early, just in case. Don’t you think?”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but then nodded, squeezing your hand. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” He smiled, humming to himself happily. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this for me today.”

“I wanted to. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” You laughed, but for some reason, there was uncertainty behind his eyes. You felt the phone buzzing more and more in your pocket.

The restaurant was packed, and even though you were early to your reservation, they got you seated immediately.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Did I already tell you that?” Nanami said once you were seated.

You flushed, your cheeks growing warm as he stared at you across the table with gentle, brown eyes. “Thanks, Kento,” you said in a quiet voice, knowing that you’d looked much better earlier, when your hair had been perfect, and your makeup hadn’t smudged. Your dress now had some wrinkles, and you were sweating with nerves and the heat outside.

He glanced down at the menu, perusing it, even though he got the same thing every time. You ordered a bottle of wine to split between the two of you.

The server brought the alcohol back and poured it, then took your order back to the kitchen. When Nanami ordered, you dropped your chin in your hands, watching him, distracted by the very sight of him.

He nodded at the younger girl politely, and she grew pink, scurrying off to the next room. Kento looked back at you as you laughed and started up another conversation. You talked about school and work and everything in between, the mood only shattering when you felt the incessant buzz of the phone in your pocket.

You were in the middle of a story, but your sentences started to blend together into something that didn’t make sense. You stumbled over what you were saying, feeling the weight of the phone in your pocket as you tried to refocus on your words, but remained distracted.

The phone buzzed again in your pocket. You gritted your teeth. Fucking Gojo Satoru and his idiotic brain—you’d told him not to contact you.

“Is everything alright?” Kento blinked as you took your phone out and set it in your purse.

“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated, thoughtful as he swallowed a sip of wine. “Well, I don’t want you to get in any trouble if it’s work.”

“I took off today. If they can’t handle two sorcerers being gone, then they’ve got bigger problems.”

Nanami sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. “I guess that’s true. Speaking of work, I—"

The phone buzzed louder, then there was a pause. It buzzed again. You cringed.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”

The phone started ringing.

You were close to throwing the bag altogether, and probably would’ve, if it hadn’t been one of the most expensive accessories you owned. Nanami looked down at the bag, then back at you, eyebrows raised.

“Honey…” he said, eyes gesturing to the phone. “Just answer it.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and you dug your phone out of the bag, Megumi Fushiguro’s name was bold as it lit up on the screen. You held it tightly in your hand and began to stand, feeling sick and horrible and wondering if all the secrecy had just ruined his birthday. “I’m so sorry Kento—"

He shrugged; his voice was solid with gentle patience. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

You nodded, and waited until you were out of earshot to answer the phone, feeling horrible about leaving him all by himself. Once you were in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, you answered. “Hello?”

“Itadori dropped the cake.”

You took a breath before answering Megumi’s calm remark, wondering how close you actually were to snapping. “What.”

In the background, the pink-haired boy wailed over and over, loud cries that were, clearly, full of remorse. “It was an accident!” He shouted over Kugisaki’s berating, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because that was the last thing you’d expected to happen.

“Itadori dropped the cake,” Megumi repeated, flatly, like you hadn’t gotten it the first time. “It’s all over the floor. Kugisaki’s trying to get him to clean it up, but it’s just making him even more miserable.”

You covered a hand over your mouth, wondering why your eyes were welling up with frustrated tears. Things were not going the way you’d planned. “Is Gojo there yet?”

“Yeah.” Megumi hesitated, and there was a pause, like he was unsure what to do now that he finally had you on the phone. “Want me to put him on?”

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you, and muttered, “yes.” Within a moment, the older man, currently in charge of three teenagers, was on the line.

“This may or may not be Gojo,” he said, and you were glad that he at least had enough intelligence to sound nervous.

“Satoru.” You tried hard not to panic. “Please, please can you try and find another cake? I know it’s late, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall here. I’m trying so hard not to be suspicious, but I’m horrible at it.”

“I can try, but—"

“Kento already thinks I’m acting weird, and he keeps asking me questions that I’m doing a very bad job of answering. I feel awful because it’s his birthday, and I’m afraid he thinks I’m just getting ready to split up with him or something.”

“Ouch.” Gojo said dramatically, hissing like he’d been stung. “That’d be a bit of an asshole move, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I’m obviously not going to do that!” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “He seemed upset today, and I just don’t want all of this to go to waste. Please, Satoru. It doesn’t matter what the cake looks like, but just make sure that you get something, so that—"

“Hey,” he said, dropping the theatrics when you choked back a sob. His tone grew serious. “Take a deep breath. I think you’re forgetting who we’re dealing with here.”

“What do you mean?” You blinked, dabbing your eyes, hoping that your mascara wouldn’t smear.

“Nanami is going to appreciate the gestures, even if they aren’t perfect.”

You inhaled and exhaled, realizing that Satoru was right. Out there was a man that you loved very much, who loved you in return, and this was not as serious as you were making it out to be. “You’re right.”

“Obviously. Enjoy your dinner. I can take care of it.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like a warzone in the background.”

“Everything’s fine,” Gojo swore, even if you didn’t entirely believe him. “I told Megumi not to call you, but he loves getting me in trouble. Please, don’t worry about it.”

You opened your mouth, but Gojo had already hung up.

As you left the stall, you sighed, seeing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red with unshed tears, but you’d already made Kento wait long enough.

Twitching nervously, you headed back to the table. Nanami was sitting patiently, scrolling through something mindlessly on his phone.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you sat back down, noticing the signs of tears and misery. He reached for you across the table, but then thought better of it, and just frowned.

“Everything’s fine. I’m just really sorry, Kento.” You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it.”

A beat of silence passed. He smiled. “I am enjoying it.” He did reach for your hand, then, and pulled it tight against his own. “This has been the best birthday, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”

You swallowed. “I’m not upset.” You shook your head, trying to clear the unhappiness from your expression. “Anyways, what were you saying? I interrupted.”

Nanami’s face fell. You’d changed the subject so quickly; he hadn’t had the chance to ask you any more questions. “Right. Well, nothing important. I just have to be in Kyoto next week.”

You frowned. “All week?”

He nodded. “I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to make plans. You’ve been...” he paused, thinking over his words. “Seeing Gojo a lot lately, so I thought you might want to—”

You stared at him, and realized what he was getting at. Fuck, you felt so horrible. “Oh,” you said, scratching your wrist under the table. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m sure he’ll be busy too.”

That wasn’t the answer Nanami was looking for. He stopped, and then regrouped, nodding. “Well, either way, I wanted you to know. They didn’t give me advanced notice.”

You smiled tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only for a few days,” he said, releasing your hand to place it back onto his lap. “But I’m going to miss you too.” There was something distant in his voice when he said it.

On the way home from the restaurant, Gojo texted you obnoxiously, sending you pictures of the house, the cleanliness of it, the set-up of the gifts, the new cake, and you smiled to yourself, somewhat relieved that things weren’t a complete disaster.

You could feel Kento’s eyes on you as he drove home, his hand resting on your thigh as you turned slightly away from him, keeping his eyes off the screen.

Stop sending me things before he sees my phone.

Gojo’s response was much too quick.

Stop looking at your phone.

You sighed, clicking the screen off and finally relaxing against the window. The secrecy was almost over; you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this all hidden without causing so much dramatic suspicion.

Nanami pulled into park in front of your home, squeezing your leg gently before releasing it. You expected him to make a move to get out of the car, but instead he sat, contemplative, the key still in the ignition.

You swallowed, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”

He took a breath, turning back to you with some sort of determination in his eyes. “Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his voice so incredibly gentle.

“What?” you said, laughing nervously. “Why would you ask that?”

His face fell as he looked back at the steering wheel. “I just thought this would be easier if I’d hurt you in some way.”

Your mouth grew dry. You reached for him. “Kento—”

“Look,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, the strands coming loose, falling onto his forehead. “I’m not trying to… I don’t want to…” His words fell off, and though you knew what he was trying to say, you didn’t want him to say it, because there was no reason for it. “If something’s wrong, I just want to know. Let’s at least try to fix it.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” You squeezed his hand, trying to pull away from him. “Can we talk about this inside?” You started to get out of the car.

“No, wait.” He stopped you again, eyes wide with disappointment, like he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “This is what happens every time. I ask you about it, then you find a way to spin my words around so that we never talk about it. I let you every time, because I love you, and I trust you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

Your heart squeezed. “Kento.” You began, feeling bad that you were forced to talk in circles just to get him to believe in your lies. “I promise, we’ll talk about it inside. It’s still your birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it by misunderstanding one another. Please, let’s talk about it once we’re both settled in.”

Nanami’s shoulders stiffened, then deflated, but he didn’t let go of you. “There’s not… Someone else, is there?”

“Of course not.” You said fervently, kissing his hand. “God, Ken. You think I’d want anyone else when I’ve got you?”

He smiled, though it was half-hearted.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”

You led him into the house, holding his hand tightly, hoping that this went over as you intended. Beside you, he was still contemplative, flicking on the lights as you continued into your home.

“You know, I really think we should still—”

As the lights came on, his words were cut off by some variation of everyone yelling happy birthday, and he blinked back at the students he’d recently met, and all the sorcerers he’d worked with closely in the previous years. His jaw opened, then shut, then he looked at you, then back to Gojo, and you could see the understanding in his features before he’d expressed it, when everything clicked into place.

A moment of silence passed where Nanami said nothing, and then Itadori decided to fill that silence with very off-key singing, and Kento’s cheeks dusted light pink, barely visible in the light, as he squeezed your hand tighter.

Everyone made the rounds, greeting him with varying levels of enthusiasm, while Nanami just thanked them with quiet politeness, even though you could see that he was secretly pleased, his lips curling up into a smile, the signs of stress dissipating from his features.

Itadori approached with a poorly wrapped gift and a hug that Nanami didn’t quite return, but he didn’t push away, either.

Nanami took the gift, holding it with soft eyes like he’d been given something precious. “Thank you, Yuuji. This is very kind.”

“You’re welcome.” Itadori said back proudly, smiling smugly at his two friends over his shoulder, obviously proud that he’d gotten such praise. “It’s probably going to be the best gift you’ll get tonight.”

You could see Nanami trying to refrain from laughing, but he snorted instead. “Is this why you were asking me about all those things that I liked a few weeks ago?”

“Uhh…” Yuuji smiled sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “No! Not really. But… Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d thought you’d forget about that.”

Kento’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and he squeezed Itadori’s shoulder, clearly touched.

You kissed his cheek and left him alone to talk with everyone that came to visit, going to thank Gojo and the students that had helped you over the past few weeks.

An hour passed before you found Kento again, after the cake had been cut and Gojo had insisted he opened one of the many gifts he’d gotten him.

He was standing in the kitchen, staring at a pile of wrapped gifts and the sliced cake that wasn’t exactly what you’d intended, but had received the same reaction, nonetheless.

“Kento?” you said quietly, and though you could tell that he was appreciative of everyone, you still weren’t sure how the surprise had gone over. He turned to you, his sleeves rolled up, a few more strands of blond hair coming loose. His cheeks were flushed, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been lying—”

Kento was to you in two long strides, backing you into a wall before kissing you deeply. Your hands curled into his hair, and you hummed into his mouth with a smile as his hands rested on your hips.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered against your mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to ridiculous conclusions.”

You laughed, kissing him again and again, feeling things finally ease back into normalcy. “I know how it looked—” He looked away, embarrassed that he’d even thought of the possibility that you would leave him for Gojo. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious.” You sighed, leaning back in his arms as you held his cheeks with both hands. “Were you surprised?”

“I wish I wasn’t. It was pretty obvious now that I think back on it.”

“But…”

“But, yes,” he said, kissing your forehead as you preened, proud that it had all pulled together in the end. “I was surprised.” He gave you one last kiss, whispering, “thank you” and “I love you” on your lips.

From behind the door, you heard shuffling, and opened your eyes to see Gojo snapping a picture, to which Nanami groaned, pushing himself away from you reluctantly.

Gojo grinned, “Sorry. I’ll let myself out. Didn’t realize you two lovebirds were in here,” he said, even though he most certainly did.

“Please do,” Nanami gestured in the direction of the front door. “I hate the fact that you even know where I live.”

Gojo’s face fell. “After everything I did for your birthday, and you’re still going to pretend you don’t like me?”

“I don’t.” Nanami sighed, before swallowing down whatever antagonist words he really wanted to say. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

Gojo beamed—you intervened before he could even think to throw his arms around Kento.

1K notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months

Text

Kicking

Summary: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief.

Word Count: 3.4K

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, pregnancy sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving) creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (give this man a football team), pregnancy hormones, Javi being the best dad/husband (idk what to tell you guys, he is truly the best)

A/N: This was inspired by an ask I got from an anon a while back, and the Dad!Javi brainrot has been unstoppable the past few days and I missed our sweet little family so here we are again 🤪 I love the Peña's more than life itself!!! Thank you @endlessthxxghts for proofreading and letting me harass you with my endless Dad!Javi thots ILY 😩💕

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Ouch, that one hurt. You are relentless, aren’t you?” You whispered down to your belly, setting down the dishes you were washing down next to the sink as you rubbed at your slowly swelling stomach. While you had very quickly remembered all the strange and painful sensations of growing a tiny human inside you throughout your second pregnancy, baby number two was definitely giving you a run for your money. Lucy had been easy- The occasional kick or bump, her movement enough to make you feel relieved and excited, but never enough to make you feel miserable. Even though you were still only 6 months pregnant, you were convinced that Baby Two was going to come out as a triple threat soccer star, football kicker and boxer, because their movement day in and day out for the last few weeks had been constant.

“You okay, Hermosa?” With your daughter Lucy hoisted on his hip, Javi paused from helping you to put away the rest of the dishes to turn around towards you, his brow scrunching in concern at the pained look growing across your face as you rested your hand on your stomach.

“Otay Mommy?” Lucy asked, mimicking Javi, making the two of you let out a little laugh, enough to ease you back to washing the dishes you had set down before Baby Peña had started their 15th boxing round of the day in your stomach.

“I’m okay.” You smiled up at Javi, who had made his way behind you, wrapping his free arm around your waist as you stood at the sink, still holding Lucy in the other. “Baby Tutu really likes to kick Mommy’s belly a lot.” You sighed, responding to your daughter, even though the comment was more intended for Javi.

“Baby Tutu!” Lucy beamed at the new nickname she had given her baby sibling, after you and Javi had been referring to them as “Baby Two”, which had quickly turned into “Baby Tutu”, after Lucy had begun babbling it around the house.

Javi frowned, rubbing his hand along the small of your back before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, feeling guilty at how uncomfortable you had been recently, despite how hard you had tried to power through it. “Mama and Baby Tutu are gonna go lay down and me and you are gonna finish the dishes and get ready for bed, Lil Miss.” It was now Javi’s turn to reply, talking to you through Lucy to try and insist that you go take a break before you pushed yourself too hard and felt even worse.

“Jav, it’s fine, you made dinner and I-”

“Lucy Goosey and I are more than capable of cleaning up and getting ready for bedtime while Mommy gets some well deserved relaxing time, aren’t we, Lucy?” Javi smiled, giving Lucy a little raspberry on her belly, making her squeal and grin in delight as she flapped her arms in Javi’s grasp. “I’ve got her, don’t worry.” Giving your hip a little squeeze, Javi gave you a reassuring nod, almost insisting that you go give yourself a break to at least soothe Baby Two’s fight club antics in the comfort of your bed.

“Thank you, Jav.” You smiled, letting out a relieved sigh, your pregnancy hormones causing your eyes to well with thankful tears for your amazing and understanding husband.

“Of course, Osita. We’re gonna say goodnight to Momma, okay Lucy? Can you say, goodnight Momma, we love you?” Javi cooed at Lucy, prompting her to give you a little wave goodbye as you reached up to pepper a few kisses across her rosy cheeks as she giggled.

“Night night, Momma. Wuv you!” Lucy babbled, reaching out towards you for a hug as you sandwiched her between you and Javi, giving her and Javi one last kiss before you trudged your way across the house and up the stairs towards your bedroom.

Even though you were thankful for Javi taking care of Lucy’s bedtime routine for the night, it hadn’t eased Baby Peña’s soccer tournament in your stomach in the slightest. Even after slipping on one of Javi’s oversized shirts and your pajama shorts, tucking yourself into bed and throwing on the TV to watch the Dallas Stars game that had just started, you could not get anywhere close to comfortable, tossing and turning in your bed, trying your best not to curse in frustration at your incredibly active baby.

“How ya doin’, Momma?” Javi asked, gently closing the bedroom door behind him seemingly finished with putting Lucy down for bed as he began to strip out of his work clothes and into his cotton sleep shorts, tossing the dirty items in the hamper before crawling into bed next to you.

“Your child better grow up to be the next David Beckham.” You groaned, sitting up on your pillows to look over at Javi, with a sympathetic smile spread across his face.

“My kid, huh?” Javi chuckled, laying his hand over your stomach, gently rubbing circles with his thumb against the worn fabric of his shirt you were wearing. “If my kid grows up to be the next David Beckham, I will gladly take all the credit.”

The two of you laughed as you gave Javi a playful shove, rolling your eyes at his joke only to be interrupted by another sharp kick to your side, making you wince uncomfortably. “Ugh, yes, you can get all the credit if you can convince your child to stop bruising my internal organs.” You half grumbled, half laughed, as you readjusted yourself to lay down on your side, now face to face with Javi. “Lucy was never this active, especially this early. I have a feeling we’re gonna have our hands full with this one.”

“A handful just like her Momma.” Javi smiled, snaking his hand under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your skin, running his hand back and forth over your belly.

“I don’t know, Jav. I really think this one is a boy.” You huffed, bracing yourself again as another punch landed underneath Javi’s hand, making his face light up, always enamored to feel the baby moving in your stomach, even though you weren’t quite feeling the same.

“I’ll be happy with whatever they are, but I’ll be even happier if they stop trying to hurt their mamá, huh bebito (little baby)?” Javi cooed, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your stomach. “Déjela relajarse, por favor mi amorcito (Let her relax, please my little love).”

Even though this pregnancy didn’t have as much in common with your first one as you would have hoped, if there was one similarity they shared, it was that something about hearing Javi’s voice made your babies relax instantly. Not only did it make your heart absolutely melt every single time, but you also couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi’s sweet sounds were able to bring you some much needed relief.

“Nosotros te amamos mucho Chiquitita, pero su papá necesito ayudar a su mamá relajarse también. (We love you so much, little one, but your dad needs to help your mom relax too). And I would prefer it if you weren’t kicking her while I did it.” Javi smirked, slowly trailing his hands and kisses down your stomach, shooting you a quick wink.

“Javi!” You playfully scolded, giving him a little shove as he scooted his body down the bed, coming face to face with your heat as he ran his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“You gonna let me help you relax, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, placing languid kisses along the inside of your legs, carefully helping to raise your hips to pull your shorts and underwear off your hips, tossing them to the floor. You let out a content sigh as you leaned your head back against your pillow, feeling Javi’s fingers slide through your folds, collecting the arousal that had already been pooling between your legs since the moment Javi had laid down next to you.

You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy where you were insatiably horny all the time and much to Javi’s delight, he was more than happy to help you with your problem however and whenever he could, even though you had to be a little more strategic (and quiet) this time around with Lucy in the house. Despite the constant kicking that had quite literally been a pain in your side the past few weeks, it was almost like Javi could sense how worked up and needy you were and couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied that he was the only thing that could cure the constant ache between your legs.

Javi nudged your knees open, letting them fall to the sides as he pressed the pads of his fingers against your clit, the sensation making you let out a whimper you tried your best to silence by biting down on your lip. “So wet for me, sweet girl. Gonna take good care of you, Momma. You deserve it. Gotta keep quiet for me though, okay?”

You nodded frantically as Javi easily slid two fingers into your dripping heat, slowly pumping in and out of you as you felt the heat of his breath hovering over your cunt before he licked a long, broad strip through your folds, already making you instinctively buck your hips towards his face.

Javi hooked his free arm around one of your thighs, holding you in place as he began to lap you up, each stroke of his tongue slow and methodical as his fingers began to curl inside you, pressing into the sweet spot that he knew all too well would make you fall apart around him.

You couldn’t help but feel your bottom half squirm against your sheets, reaching down to tug at the dark curls of Javi’s hair, trying to find any sort of relief to keep from being a loud, moaning and whimpering mess as his tongue worked along your cunt, lapping you up like a man starved. His mouth latched along your clit, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers pumped inside you, making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to build in a needy desperation.

“Javi, holy fuck- oh my god baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You whimpered, somehow managing to keep your voice just above a whisper as Javi pulled away to respond, still keeping a steady pace with his hand as he felt your pussy start to flutter around his fingers.

“I won’t stop baby, you can let go for me, Osita. I’ve got you.”

With that, he was back between your legs, relentlessly working along your heat with his mouth as the the coil in your belly wound so tightly, you were on the brink of snapping.

“Javi, Javi, Javi, oh shit- Fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaahhhhhhhhh.”

With that, your orgasm flooded through your body, pleasure spreading through every inch of you as you clenched around Javi’s fingers, soaking his hand and face with your arousal as you came, using every fiber of your being to keep from screaming out his name as you reached your high.

“Shhhhhh, that’s it, Hermosa.” Javi smirked, squeezing his fingers into the meat of your thigh as you rode out your orgasm, trying to help you keep quiet. Javi peeked his head back up as your breathing began to even out, your chest rising and falling in satisfaction as his kisses began to travel back up your body, stopping at your neck to take extra time to nip along your jawline, his teeth tugging at your earlobe as his voice rasped against your skin.

“Such a good girl for me, Osita. So fucking wet. Fuck, I need to feel you, baby. Can I?”

You nodded rapidly, feeling how hard he already was under his sleep shorts, his erection tenting the cotton fabric and staining it with his precum. “Yes, oh my god, please.” You moaned under your breath, pulling him in for an electric kiss, your mouths meeting with a passionate intensity.

“How do you want me, Hermosa?” He asked, breaking from your kiss. You had gotten to the point in your pregnancy that you were limited on options, which was never a problem since Javi had no problem making you feel incredible however the two of you fucked. Even with how horny you were, and any position would have been fine, Javi was always adamant that you being comfortable was the most important, and would let you call the shots.

“Can you spoon me? I’m not gonna lie, being punched in the gut all day has me exhausted, I’m too tired to get on top. Sorry, that is like, the most unsexy thing to say but-”

“Hey, I’ll do whatever you want, Osita. And it is fucking sexy because you’re growing our future soccer star.” He teased, cradling your face in his hand, pressing a soft kiss on your lips as you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“They better be a star after all the grief they’ve caused me.”

“I’m being serious though, baby. You know I think you are the most beautiful woman on the face of this earth, but seeing you all gorgeous and pregnant? Carrying our baby again? Fuck me, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” Javi beamed, peppering kisses down your body as he helped you to lay down on your side, gently lifting your legs to put one of his pillows under your knees to prop them up. Javi shuffled his shorts down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed before scooting behind you on his side, reaching down to stroke himself a few times as he lined up with your entrance, running his cock through your folds and collecting your slick as he caged his chest against your back. “You gonna let me prove to you how fucking perfect you are? Show you how much I love my beautiful fucking wife?”

You could feel his tip begin to slowly press inside your heat, easily sliding in from how wet you were, working his way deeper, taking his time as he buried himself in your cunt inch by inch until he bottomed out, the sweet sting of his fullness making you moan with no regard for your volume.

“Shhhhhhh, I know baby, I know. You gotta keep quiet for me. Don’t wanna wake up Lucy.” Javi rasped in your ear, draping his arm over your body, letting his hand run up and down your side to try and soothe you before he kept going. “Promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?”

“Mhhmmmm, please, I promise, I need you Javi.” You whimpered, grinding your bottom half back into Javi, desperate for him to keep going.

“Jesus Christ- fuck, I need you too, Hermosa.” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, slowly pulling out before pressing back into your pussy, taking his sweet time as he savored every stroke. “So fucking wet for me, Osita.”

So wet, that all you could hear in your room was the lewd noises of Javi thrusting in and out of you over your muted moans you were trying to keep contained as you bit down on your tongue.

Each snap of his hips felt deeper than the last, the sweet sting of his stretch making you absolutely lose your mind as he punched against your g-spot at a slow and savory pace, pressing languid kisses along your neck and shoulder as the hot breath of his words hit your skin.

“I love you so fucking much, Osita. I’m so fucking lucky. You’re so perfect. Perfect wife, perfect mom to our daughter, perfect all pregnant and carrying our baby. Can’t wait until I can fuck another baby into you.” As if him whispering into your ear as he fucked into with an intensity and passion that had you reeling, Javi reached his hand around your front, the pads of his fingers meeting your throbbing clit, making you lose all control as a ragged moan escaped from your lips.

Javi’s hand immediately shot up to your mouth, carefully covering it before you got any louder, now trying his best to keep from groaning as he tried to keep you quiet. “I know Hermosa, fuck- fuck, we gotta stay quiet, baby.” Javi convincing himself just as much as he was convincing you, his grunts becoming louder and louder as they rumbled in his chest, feeling your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his cock.

You knew that despite how hard you tried, with how good you felt, and how quickly the heat in your belly was starting to bloom once again, there was no way you were going to be able to stop yourself from keeping quiet. Giving in to the fact that Javi was going to have no choice but to cover your mouth, you wrapped your hand over his, pushing his thumb into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl and suck over it as Javi continued to thrust into you, his pace now starting to quicken as he felt your pussy fluttering around him.

“Fuck- oh fuck me.” Javi groaned, punching deeper and harder against the spot inside you that made you crumble, needing to make you cum again before he fell apart just as quickly as you were. “Touch yourself, baby. I’m not gonna- shit- I’m not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum again. Need you to- fuck- soak my cock before I fuck you full of me.”

You let your hands drop down, reaching between your legs to rub your clit, barely needing any pressure at all before your second orgasm came crashing through you, moaning into Javi’s broad palm wrapped over your mouth as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body.

As Javi felt you fall apart, his thrusts became faster and sloppier, quickly following suit, spilling deep inside you after only a few more pumps, groaning through gritted teeth as he milked himself of every last drop. Resting his forehead against the back of your shoulder, you could feel Javi’s damp curls sticking to your skin as both your chests heaved deeply, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your highs. As Javi lifted his head up, you could feel his lips pressing soft kisses against your back, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your skin, keeping his chest pressed to yours.

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi cooed, letting the tips of his fingers dance along your soft skin as he let out a soft hiss, pulling out of your heat, feeling the mix of your spend dripping down your thighs, planting one more kiss on your shoulder before heading off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth.

“Okay? I’m amazing. You finally got the munchkin to stop kicking and you made me cum so hard, holy shit, this is the best I have felt all day.” You laughed, shaking your head in blissed out satisfaction as Javi gently wiped you up, tossing the washcloth into the hamper as you turned over to face him, cupping his face as your lips met in a tender kiss, a soft smile peeking out the corners of both of your lips. “Thank you.”

“For what, Osita?” Javi questioned, his brow slightly scrunching in confusion as his sweet brown eyes stared back at you, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

“For being so amazing. For taking such good care of me, for being such a great dad, I don’t know, I’m so lucky to have you, Javi. I love you.” You smiled, letting tears flow down your cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away in embarrassment. “Sorry, hormones.” You shrugged, letting out a little laugh as Javi’s thumb gently swiped across your wet face, drying your tears.

“You deserve everything, Osita. Eres mi amor, mi vida, mi todo. Te amo mucho. (You are my love, my life, my everything. I love you so much.)” Javi beamed, pulling you closer to lay against his chest, resting his hand on your stomach, gently rubbing it back and forth. “Mi familia es perfecto. Mi hermosa esposa, mi hermosa mija, mi hermosa futbolista (My family is perfect. My beautiful wife, my beautiful daughter, my beautiful soccer player)." The two of you laughed, looking down at your belly for a moment before letting out a little “oof” as you felt a tiny kick underneath where Javi’s hand was placed.

“Tell your little soccer star they can wait to practice until the morning.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko

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thewinchestah · 4 months

Text

"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.

A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it <3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby

It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon.

Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture.

Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.

The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.

Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”

“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”.

Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence.

“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t.

“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s.

And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him.

Only for him.

And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises.

How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?

It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation? LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions.

As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.

So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.

“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.

Adding insult to injury, nice.

Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell?

It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.

“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.

Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.

“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.

“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-

Uh oh.

oh shit.

You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.

“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”

His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.

Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.

“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”

You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes

“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”

His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish.

“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation.

“I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”

You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.

“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”

you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy.

He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you.

“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast.

You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can. You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.

He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire

Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.

Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair, your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly.

“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane.

Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away.

Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.

Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”

Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture.

And he just left you all hot and bothered.

–

Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.

But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.

In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness.

He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul. Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.

That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.

But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were…

You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.

In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments.

Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.

Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.

And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.

After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you.

You punch yourself with your pillow.

C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…

You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.

Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game.

You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.

Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)

Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.

Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards

It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?

Great, Alastor again. You sighed.

Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.

“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.

Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-

Yours, Alastor.

You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in.

He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)

The taps the spot next to him on the the bed

“Come here, you darling thing!”

you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking

“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word.

Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.

Holy fuck.

“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh.

“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-

Alastor audibly shushes you.

“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?

You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.

He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.

You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments.

You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.

Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop.

He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor.

You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.

“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?

You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”.

“Lovely.”

crack.

He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.

“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.

You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.

“thank-”

crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.

“tha-”

crack.crack.

He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.

crack. crack.

He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”

one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks.

“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”

How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.

There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.

Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”

crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts.

“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon”

crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.

You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”

He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission.

“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic”

Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful. Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.

“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are”

The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening.

He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself.

“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen.

Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out.

His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift.

Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that.

Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure.

“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?”

One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.

You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer.

“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?”

You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out.

Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.

“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust.

“Me, i’m losing control”

“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.

“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure.

Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust

“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish.

“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them.

“You can come now”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him.

Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling.

You know Alastor will catch you.

“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all.

“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.

“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy.

Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets.

You whimper in complaint.

“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper.

He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.

“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right? You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.

“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”

my love.

“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that”

You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.

“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘

“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”

“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.

But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead.

“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion.

When you,know you know. your mind reiterates.

“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”

He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored.

“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!”

Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that.

Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible.

Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.

Good things come for those who wait.

#atenção creuzebek vamos lá vai começar a baixaria #author is also in heat can you tell #METE COM FORÇA E COM TALENTO EU TO OFEGANTE E VC PERCEBENDO #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hope uou guys like it!!#VEM DE CHICOTE ALGEMA CORDA DE ALPINISTA #baixaria

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toournextadventure · 6 months

Text

a novel life pt.1

Summary: You're a Lit professor at Blackmoor University when you meet Samantha Carpenter. Life becomes... a lot more exciting with her around.

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, bullying, sister arguments Pairing: Sam Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

You liked Sam.

No, that was quite the understatement. You would almost - almost - go so far as to say you loved her! Not quite yet, obviously, you still weren’t completely, absolutely positive. But you were pretty certain that the things you felt for her could be classified as love. At least that’s what your dad said love was, and he had been happily married for 41 years at that time, so how could you possibly argue with that kind of experience?

It wasn’t like you had meant to fall in love with her. Not that you actively avoided it, you just… hadn’t been looking for her. Both you and Sam had a habit of lying when people asked how you met; they always assumed it was some kind of meet-cute. Her friend Mindy was determined it was something adorable, like meeting at a coffee shop or running into each other at the library.

The truth, the cold hard truth, was much more ridiculous.

“Why are you watching me?”

You blinked hard and looked up at the… woman (?) standing in front of you. She was all blurry and all you could really make out was dark hair and beautifully brown skin. If you really squinted, you could see just enough of her posture that, when coupled with the tone, was indicative of frustration. Maybe even anger, if you pushed it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know I was.”

“How could you not know?” She asked, her tone staying incredibly not happy.

“I, uh-” you cleared your throat, “-I couldn’t see you.”

Her laugh was condescending. And pretty. “You were looking right at me.” Her blurry frame shifted. “Come up with a better excuse.”

This strange woman was rather mean, wasn’t she? You kind of liked it.

“It’s not an excuse,” you said once her frame had officially stopped moving.

“Then how did you not see me?” She asked. “What are you, blind?”

You smiled to yourself and set your bagel down. “Kind of,” you said as you lifted your head to face her. Or at least you hoped you were. “I forgot my glasses at my office.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. Her tense tone had disappeared rather quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Sounds like you’re used to being watched.”

“You have no idea,” she said quickly.

Wait. That was an opening. You hadn’t talked to a woman outside of work in ages. This was your chance!

“Want to sit down over coffee some time and talk about it?”

You really really wished you hadn’t forgotten your glasses. Without them, you couldn’t see the look on her face. Did she think your question was rather rash? Rude, even? Or perhaps she thought it was a welcome idea, even just to get something off her chest. From the sound of it, she had a lot on her mind.

“Sure,” she said eventually. “I’d like that.”

The rest, as they say, was history. You had both gotten your coffee and you hadn’t forgotten your glasses again. Which made the coffee date a little awkward because then you could see just how truly beautiful she was, and you had not been prepared for it. She had watched you become a stuttering fool who could only spout random, unwarranted facts about things.

By some miracle, she had asked you on a dinner date.

The singular benefit of the entire situation was that you had met at the very beginning of summer break. You had decided not to teach a summer class that year, instead opting to use the hotter months to find more material that you could bring to the fall semester. There had to be a wider range of literature from the Romantic Period outside of what the school had already been teaching when you joined the staff. The literature classes at the moment were so… basic.

Because of this, work never came up. Sam never asked, and you never even thought to tell simply because… well, you just hadn’t thought of it. You hadn’t been hiding your profession, you hadn’t even tried to be sneaky about it. After all, your entire apartment was filled with tomes and first editions of novels and the closest thing you could get to original manuscripts of the ancients. And Sam had very certainly seen the inside of your apartment more than once.

The thought had never occurred to you to bring up what you did for a living. After all, you finally had a girl…friend? You weren’t quite sure if that term could be used officially, but you were going to use it in your internal monologue. Regardless, this was the first time in years, how were you supposed to remember everything she might want to know? Besides, it wasn’t like she had asked yet.

And neither had her sister! Who, unfortunately, you were starting to think didn’t like you. She had never said it out loud, so you couldn’t be sure, but she made sure to give you a, uh, look whenever you would come over. Sam had told you that Tara loved movies - horror movies to be precise - and you had even managed to find a rare copy of a “famous” B-list movie for her!

It still didn’t work.

“Do I need to try and cook dinner for her one night?” You asked, looking up from your book. Sam was still doing her own studying for her night classes.

“If you cook for Tara, she will eat you alive,” Sam said without missing a beat. “She had to cook for herself for years, she will tear you apart.”

“She’s so scary,” you whispered to yourself before looking back down at your lecture notes. “What if I found the original script of her favourite movie?”

At that, Sam put her pen down. Your stomach fluttered; had you said something wrong? Oh of course you had, you absolute fool. You don’t question someone about how to win over their siblings! Well… did you? Maybe you needed to do some research on the topic.

“Your efforts are sweet,” she said with a soft smile, “but you can’t push Tara. She’ll come around when she’s ready.”

You frowned. “How will she be ready if I don’t try?”

“Trust the process,” she said. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before going back to her studying, and you were left stewing in your own thoughts.

The process didn’t make any sense.

—---

“Do you have to go?” Sam asked in a raspy voice.

You looked up from tying your shoes. Sam had rolled over to her other side on the bed, giving you the perfect view of her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes could barely stay open, but she looked just as beautiful as always. The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains to hit her skin at just the right angle. It looked like she was glowing.

Maybe you didn’t have to go.

No, you had students waiting, of course you had to go.

“I’ll be back after work,” you said quietly. Her eyes were still mostly closed, and you didn’t want to jolt her awake; she deserved her beauty rest.

“Be safe,” she said.

You finished tying your shoe and stood up, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. She sighed softly. “I’ll be safe.” You placed one more kiss on her forehead before pulling back. She quickly fell back into bed, already fast asleep.

Thankfully, all of your stuff was outside the bedroom. It made it easier to stay quiet, tip-toeing your way out of the room and easing the door open and shut with as little noise as possible. You waited a moment, listening through the door to see if she had woken up, but nodded to yourself in confirmation before turning back around.

And facing Tara.

“Your nerd shit is by the door,” Tara said a little louder than you would have liked. She was going to wake up Sam if she didn’t quiet down a bit.

“Thank you,” you said. Because of course that was something normal people said in that situation. “Are you, uh, headed to class?”

You gestured your head toward her backpack. Which was clearly filled with school books. Which you were more than aware meant that yes, of course she was heading to school. Where else would she be going? You weren’t doing a very good job at winning her over, now she was going to think you were stupid.

“No, I’m running away,” Tara said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh,” you said sadly. Then, her words clicked in your mind and you perked up. “Oh.” Okay, she wasn’t going to think you were stupid, she was simply going to bully you.

Jokes on her, you had been bullied all your life, you were practically a professional.

“I’m heading that way too,” you said as you ungraciously shoved your arms through your jacket. “Want to go together?”

Tara looked you up and down for only a fraction of a second. “Absolutely not.”

You watched, dejected, as she exited the apartment without another word. Although you weren’t entirely surprised, you weren’t exactly happy about the situation. Well, there went one of your chances at winning her over. You would have to try again next time. And maybe not be so… what did you hear Tara call you the other day… pathetic in your attempts.

Which was going to be rather hard to do when you couldn’t even catch your bus, leading to you having to walk the long distance to the university. It led to you shedding your jacket before getting halfway to your destination, and blisters on the backs of your heels from your shoes. Maybe you didn’t need to dress quite the same if you were leaving Sam's apartment; clearly it wasn’t a safe choice.

You were nine minutes and 27 seconds late to your class.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said the moment you stepped into the classroom. Everyone was still talking, but they quieted down slowly. “I missed my bus.” You tossed your briefcase onto the desk and started digging for your papers. “Which means, lucky for you, we can skip icebreakers and get right to it.”

There was a mix of mumbled approval and sighs of relief at the release from icebreakers. You would admit, you weren’t too upset about it either. Even though it did help everyone learn names - ahem, it helped you learn their names - it was rather intimidating. No one knew what to say, it put everyone on the spot, and more often than not ended up with no one talking the entire semester. This was better for everyone, and at least you had an excuse.

“Alright,” you huffed, finally pulling the stack of papers out of your briefcase, “pass these around while I tell you about the changes in readings.” Groans quickly followed. “You won’t be buying more textbooks, I’ve got PDFs to share.”

You quickly handed the stack of papers to the student closest to the front, giving them a smile and a mouthed “thank you.” She smiled back and nodded before handing them back. Even as you reached back to grab your own notes, you finally, finally looked out at the class.

And froze when you met a pair of familiar brown eyes.

Tara had a look that you would have classified as “furious.” Although her nose scrunched up like Sam’s, and you could truly see the family resemblance in their anger. That was… well, it sure was something. You hoped you could grow to get used to all of this enough to keep a professional demeanour in class. It wouldn’t do you any good to lose it now simply because your girlfriend’s (?) sister was in your class.

Admittedly, class went on without a hitch. Eventually, after nearly the entire hour had passed, Tara had managed to relax enough to look over the syllabus and even give her input on a few of the readings you had changed up. She was smart. You hadn’t heard much from her, but she was incredibly smart. It was going to be a delight to hear her opinions throughout the semester.

“Alright everyone, I’ll let you out a few minutes early,” you said once you had thoroughly exhausted everything on the syllabus. Had you really needed to take as long as you had? No, but you weren’t going to miss a single piece of information. The point of teaching was to prepare everyone for success, not to throw information out at them and hope they could comprehend it well enough on their own.

The class quickly started packing up, talking about nothing that you had told them about. Which was as expected. You hadn’t been teaching for too long, but you weren’t naive; you knew students usually only cared during class and gave up as soon as they were free.

“Oh, Miss Carpenter,” you said quickly, catching Tara right before she left. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as Tara sighed, but otherwise nodded and trudged back into class. She didn’t sit, but stayed standing on the other side of the desk. A defence mechanism if ever you saw once. Though, judging by the scar you could see on her hand, you assumed it was for good reason.

“I want to check in with you that my presence won’t negatively impact your time in this class,” you said once everyone had finished filing out of the room.

“Will my presence negatively impact your time with my sister?” She shot back quickly. Why was she so fast? You didn’t answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle you as my professor for one semester.”

“Good,” you said with repetitive nods. “Please inform me if you change your mind.” Tara rolled her eyes, but you weren’t phased. “I do not mean to impede upon your success.”

“Shut up,” she said softly, “you sound like such a parent.”

“I mean it, Tara,” you continued. “You don’t have to like Sam and me, but I don’t want it to impact your life-”

“-Oh my god, I get it,” she interrupted quickly. Her weight shifted between her feet. “Just shut up already, I have another class to get to.”

“Okay,” you said with a gesture toward the door. “Stay safe.”

Tara didn’t bother answering before practically sprinting out the door. You hoped she was being serious about not being too influenced with you as her professor. It was against every part of your being to create a barrier between her and her academics. If she didn’t like you, that was one thing, but if it caused a problem? You would have to talk to Sam about it.

Oh god, you did sound like a parent.

By the time all your classes had ended and you could finally head back to Sam’s apartment, you had nearly forgotten all about Tara being in your class. Now, it certainly didn’t help that you were so focused on getting back to Sam so you could crawl into bed with her and rest. You clearly had better things to think about than a potential, unconfirmed incident at school.

Well, you thought you had better things to think about. When you approached Sam’s apartment door, you could hear elevated voices inside. Elevated voices that were related to each other. And that were surely unhappy about something. Oh gosh. You debated walking away, but what if they were in trouble?

You would not have been the one to save them, but by golly if you weren’t going to try.

“They’re one of my professors, Sam,” Tara shouted while you walked into the apartment.

Oh jeez. You should not have tried to save anyone. Sam was standing near the couch with her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Across from her, Tara was near the kitchen, her backpack and books strewn along the table as if she had thrown it there. Which, judging by her apparent anger, was likely.

“You can’t just date one of my professors,” she continued. “That’s so wrong.”

“You’re an adult, Tara,” Sam said, “you can handle one semester of this.”

You debated stepping in, but couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. Clearly Tara had an issue, and you didn’t want to throw it back in her face. That certainly wouldn’t help you win her over. You decided to stay put for the moment.

“I don’t trust them, Sam,” Tara practically shouted. Not quite, but she was building it up. “They just want to show up, worm their way into every part of our lives, and I’m not supposed to be suspicious?” She asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“This isn’t-” Sam stopped when she met your eyes.

Tara turned around at Sam’s sudden halt, groaning when she saw you standing there. You lifted your shaky hand slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. Sam’s eyes softened as she watched you, but Tara’s only hardened. And, you supposed you couldn’t fully blame her. She… made a good point.

“I can head out,” you said softly.

“Good-”

“-Don’t.” Tara and Sam said at the same time. Sam glared at the younger Carpenter. “You don’t have to go.”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “I can come back another time.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tara asked. “We’re talking.”

“And we can talk when I get back,” Sam said quickly. She practically pushed you out the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You didn’t get to see Tara’s face at Sam’s order. No doubt it was… not happy. It made you… sad to see them arguing, especially about something as insignificant as you. There was absolutely no reason they should be arguing about you.

Perhaps there was also a small bit of relief at being an only sibling.

Sam leaned against the door and closed her eyes before letting out a drawn out sigh. Your inexperience got the better of you; you didn’t know what to do. Not only had you not had a girlfriend for *ahem* a little while, you also didn’t have siblings. Was this normal behaviour for siblings? For sisters? Surely it was.

No, you needed to think, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was clearly upset in some form, and you needed to do something to comfort her. What was comforting? Ah, you knew. You reached forward carefully and grabbed Sam’s hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. They linked together perfectly, like they were meant to be.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at your hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she looked back up at you. There was a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes; the main indication of her smile that she was holding back. You loved that crinkle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be,” you said with your own smile as you pulled her closer to you. “I don’t blame her for being cautious.”

“I guess it’s my own fault,” Sam said. You both started slowly making your way down the stairs. “I openly disapproved of her partner, so.”

“Payback,” you said with a nod.

“I didn’t know you were a professor,” she said shyly.

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Tell me about it?” She asked.

You both stepped onto the ground floor in tandem. As much as you wanted to stand there with her all night, you knew she needed to have a talk with Tara. If any of you wanted this to work, you would have to put in the effort and do the things you didn’t want to. At the moment, it was Sam and Tara hashing it out.

“Over dinner?” You suggested. “Next Thursday?” She smiled. “I don’t have class Friday morning and a co-worker suggested this delightful little bistro.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “But you’re paying.”

“It’s only fair,” you said with a shrug. “I suppose this mess is my fault.”

“100%,” she said, biting her bottom lip immediately after.

You didn’t have to be experienced to know what to do next. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck as she pulled you closer. Your hands fell to her hips, holding her securely against you. You didn’t have to move very far to kiss her. She tasted lovely; the taste of chocolate, a splash of wine, and the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

She tasted like love

—---

The countdown to your date with Sam had seemed to drag on endlessly. The days seemed to go by too slowly, you only got to talk to her on occasion, and you had been thrown back into the swing of things with… far too many classes to preside over. It was your own fault, of course, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable.

Add to that the fact that Tara, while behaving herself, was keen on giving you some rather distasteful looks during class? It was a rather long week.

But the day had finally arrived! You had finished your class and practically sprinted - to the best of your ability - to the bus stop to get back to your apartment. A simple shower to freshen up, a new change of clothes, and you were all set to go. You stopped by the little bodega on the way, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers, and then you were on your way once again.

Sam had texted you earlier in the day, telling you to stay in the lobby and let her know when you were there. You assumed, rightfully, that it was because Tara was up in the apartment. Things might have been resolved, but that didn’t mean she had to like you yet. It was a fair compromise for the moment.

You texted her as soon as you stepped into the lobby, and she said she would be down momentarily. That was alright, at least the lobby was cool compared to the hot post-summer air outside. It wasn’t miserable, but it was enough that you weren’t too keen on being stuck outside.

“Nice shoes,” a voice said. “They look clean, where’d you get ‘em?”

You looked up from the hole you were staring into the floor to meet the eyes of a youngster coming into the lobby. They had rather kind eyes and a smile that, though accentuated by scars on both sides, was one of the most genuine you believed you had ever seen.

“Thank you,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back. “They’re from, ah, Allen Edmonds? Rockefeller Plaza?”

“I think I know that place, yeah,” the person said. “You’d recommend them?”

“Of course,” you said with a nod. “They’ve been the finest quality shoes I own.”

“I’ll have to check ‘em out,” the person continued. They nodded at the flowers in your hand. “For a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you said, “she’s on her way down.”

“She’ll love ‘em,” they said kindly. “I’m on my way up to see my girlfriend, so I’ll leave ya alone.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “You two have a wonderful evening.”

“You too,” they said with a crooked half-smile and a small wave before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

It only took another moment or two before Sam came down, looking as stunning as always. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places - which was every place - and complimented her eyes beautifully. Paired with a simple bracelet and necklace, and you were one lucky person.

“You look gorgeous,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick kiss but being careful not to smear her makeup. “These are for you.”

Her smile was small, a smile that almost gave you more butterflies than her bigger one. This one was almost reserved for you exclusively, and you would have done anything to see it more often.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning up again to press a kiss to your cheek. You hoped it left a lipstick stain.

You grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, hailing a taxi and ushering her in before following behind. In the privacy of the cab, she let her head fall onto your shoulder as she played with your fingers. You didn’t look down, but you felt her twisting your class ring round and round, almost nervously.

“You know,” you said as the cab pulled to a stop at a light, “I met the most delightful young fellow in the lobby before you came down.”

“Oh really?” Sam asked. She had stopped fidgeting with your ring and had started running her fingers over your clothed thigh.

“They asked about my shoes,” you said with a nod, “and said you would love the flowers.”

Her fingers stopped moving.

“What did this “young fellow” look like?” She asked. Her head lifted from your shoulder; you instantly missed the sensation.

“About yea high,” you said, indicating vaguely how tall they were. “Crooked smile.”

“Scars on their cheeks?”

“That’s the one,” you said with a nod. “I liked them.”

“That’s Tara’s partner,” Sam said with a huff.

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. Well, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.

“The one I don’t exactly approve of,” she continued.

“Oh,” you said with far less excitement. “Well, I thought they were lovely.”

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Her tone indicated annoyance, but you glanced down in time to catch the small smile on her face that gave her away.

You pulled her back into your side and kissed the top of her head as the cab continued its route to the bistro. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to get all four of you to get along. You loved Sam, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. After all, with her hand in yours and your lips pressed to her skin? What was the worst that could happen?

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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