#i went alone had some drinks and a dance and went home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaslutt · 8 months

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gojo and vibrator overstim??? he pleasures u like crazy after u guys go to a party and he sees a lot of guys checking u out, but instead of taking it out on u he decides he just wants to worship u😭😭 and he makes u cum a lot of times dkslmds idk

When your girlfriend is too hot for her own good ft. satoru gojo x reader

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written i absolutely loved this prompt..

contains: fem reader, established relationships, whipped!gojo, jealousy, perv!npc’s, vibrators, sooooo much dirty talk, praise, like a ridiculous amount, body worship, cockwarming, overstimulation, mating press, multiple orgasms, no condoms in sight, breeding kink if u squint, squirting for the first time, domestic af

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After Gojo finished zipping up your dress and hooking the clips at the top to secure it for you, he slapped your ass, grabbing the fat in his palms, “Goddd, i’m so fucking lucky,” he sighed dramatically.

Sliding his large hands around to the front of your body and cradling your hips, resting his head on your shoulder while he admired your current look.

Makeup applied just right, not a glitter of highlight out of place, hair styled in a way that gave his intruding eyes free roam to admire back of your neck, dress fitted perfectly to your body, accentuating every curve and dip of your perfect stature.

Opting to wear your shorter heels because knowing satoru, you two would be at this “party” for a very long time.

Everyone always wanted to talk to Satoru every time he showed himself in public. It was no suprise, considering his popularity throughout the jujutsu world from his incredible technique and strength; maybe a little from his blunt and childish personality too; and non jujutsu sourcerers we’re quick to swarm him from just his handsome looks alone.

Eyes that lit up any room, a perfectly symmetrical and slim face that looked like it had been hand chiseled from the finest stones, and his snowy white hair to top it all off. Satoru always getting asked the same question from girls and guys alike, flirtation laced in their voice when they spoke, “So, is that your natural hair color??”

His height sure didn’t help in making him any less invisible than he already wasn’t.

You two didn’t attend parties or anything of the sort too frequently though, usually only making an appearance at certain events when you had to.

This time it was a little different. Shoko had insisted on Gojo trying out this new club she started to frequent, rambling about how the ambience was just perfect; of course she didn’t fail to mention the high quality liquor they housed in the process.

Satoru hadn’t been to a club in a minute, since he started going out with you. Not seeing the need to anymore.

He only went to clubs before to let off steam after a particularly hard mission, letting some stranger dry hump him on the dance floor, or drinking some too-sweet non alcoholic drink with shoko at the bar, complaining about his day.

He never took any of the strangers home though, he just needed to get out of his head, letting the lights, shitty blaring music, and sweaty bodies overstimulate his mind for a night.

Then he found you. Perfect, sweet, little you. He found that he much rather would wrap his arms around you in the comfort of his quiet, familiar home, and lay on your breasts while you ran your fingers through his hair.

Nails raking comfortingly over his scalp as the stressors of his day melted from his brain. Why was he even stressed again?

See? This was a hundred times better than the club.

But when shoko was insistent, she was thoroughly insistent.

When you stepped through the thick doors of the establishment, guided by satoru’s comforting palm on your lower back, you couldn’t help but notice this felt a lot more lax than what you were expecting.

Music not overbearing, people mingling with each other, and weirdly seeing a lot of familiar faces in the crowd.

“Satoru, where are we right now? I thought this was a club.” you asked, tilting your head up at him while he led you in the direction of the bar, to get you something to loosen you up; he knew how you got antsy at these things sometimes.

“Ah, I didn’t explain very well did I?” he giggled, “Thisss,” gojo paused to splay his arm out in front of him, “Is where Jujutsu sourcerers come to relax!” that explains why you saw so many familiar faces…

“I think that’s why Shoko loves this place so much, people tend to stay away from her here..” pursing his lips pretending to think, “She can be quite intimidating when you know her..” he finished, shaking his head dramatically like he was trying to forget a scary memory.

“Anyways, how are you feeling sweet thing? wanna get a drink first?” Your handsome boyfriend asked you, hand still resting against your back as he gave you a little smile.

“Yeah I uh-“ looking over Gojo’s shoulder before continuing, “I think that blonde guy is trying to get your attention.” pausing your response to your boyfriend as you tipped your head forward, signaling behind gojo.

He turned his neck, shoulders perking up when his eyes focused on the man, “Yooo! How’s it goin!” Gojo waved his free hand at the man as he chirped cheerfully at him. “Was sent on a mission with him once when i was a third year, some ‘rival school bonding’ activity.” he explained.

“Looks like it worked,” you laughed, bringing your hand down to pat him on his firm behind, “You should go talk to him, it sounds like you haven’t seen him in a while.” Encouraging him, starting to slip out from his hold.

“You sure baby?” he asked, slightly pouting, not wanting you to feel awkward or neglected by yourself. God satoru was so sweet. You laughed at his antics before smiling fondly, reassuring him, “I’ll be okay toru, jus’ gonna go make myself at home on a bar stool.”

Gojo gripped your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he started off for his old acquaintance. Your heels clicked on the ground as you made your way over to the bar in the other direction satoru had gone off in.

You ordered yourself a drink, something sweet, and not too strong, just something to relax your nerves as you were now by yourself in a space you’ve never been before.

Just when you started thinking you should go make small talk with someone there, a tall man walked up to you, noticing the few buttons on his shirt undone. For some reason this made him look less intimidating; you were already walking around like there was a stick up your ass, so seeing someone look a little more laid back eased your nerves a bit.

He introduced himself, giving your figure a quick one over that you missed as you stuck your hand out for the man to shake, introducing yourself politely back.

The two of you got lost in conversation, talking about how harboring your jobs were, the only common subject you thought of to talk about with the stranger.

Gojo had made himself comfortable on the halfmoon sofa adjacent to the bar, conversing with a small crowd now, all catching up and laughing with each other.

After maybe half an hour or so, when the conversation was diverged away from him, he averted his gaze to you, watching you giggle at something the dark haired man said.

He didn’t recognize him, but he did recognize the hungry look he had on his face. The same one gojo had whenever he looked at you.

You looked completely oblivious to the man’s gaze as you continued ranting, the alcohol obviously having some affect on you, looking so relaxed while you talked to him.

Gojo couldnt take his eyes off of the scene in front of him for the life of him. People around gojo’s voices starting to become distorted at he channeled 110% of his focus onto you.

Giving a quick glance around the room and catching two guys staring at your ass. The way you were perched on the stool, body leaned into the counter a bit, making your back arch, poking your backside out in association, made you look incredibly seductive.

One of the men elbowed the other in the ribs, making him look at the sight he was witnessing; that of which being your body.

Gojo stared at them like if he tried hard enough, he could make them go blind with his mind.

Satoru would never in a million years stop you from wearing something you wanted out of the house; scandalous or not.

He loved seeing you feel good in your body, so if that meant wearing nipple pasty’s and a fishnet bodysuit out of the house? so be it, he would be in his rightful place on your hip the whole time.

But right now, he really wished everyone would stop looking at what was his.

He knew you looked good, you always did, but that didn’t give these sleazeball’s the right to oggle you like a piece of meat.

Bringing his attention back to you and the man you were conversing with, he noticed his hand had placed itself on the side of your stool, dangerously close to your thigh.

His lip twitched at the thought of his filthy hands touching your sacred body.

Giving a one over to the people around him once more and realizing that a lot more than just the man you were talking to and the 2 sluts objectifying you in the corner were passing glances at you.

“Gojo? you good?” His old acquaintance asked skeptically when he realized the veins looked like they were threatening to burst in gojos hands as he squeezed at the arm of the sofa.

Satoru stood up without saying so much as a goodbye to the people he was with, not caring about how rude or disrespectful he came off, as he quickly made his way over to your side of the room.

“Haha, I agree,” the man laughed a little to hard at something you said that truthfully wasn’t all that funny, “Mind if I get you another drink cute thing? Looks like you finished that one.” he flirted.

Finally picking up at his flirtations you started to reply, “Oh! uh.” uncomfortably shifting in your seat at the pet name, suddenly way to aware of his hand on your stool next to your leg. When did it even get there?

Looking over to where Satoru was supposed to be, eyes widening slightly, when the familiar face was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry cute thing, did i scare ya?” gojo mimicked the man across from you, staring daggers into his eyes with his intimidating orbs as he wrapped his arms around your body, large frame towering behind you.

“Satoru! jus’ figured you went to the bathroom or somethin’” you said, rubbing his hand that was placed on your torso with your thumb affectionately.

“Uh we were having a conversation.” the man interrupted your affections to one another, not listening to Satoru’s very obvious hints that you were not on the market. He figured he would make it a little more obvious for the strangers dense little head.

“Sorry buddy, i’m not feeling too well right now, so I need my cute little girlfriend to take me home.” emphasizing the nature of your relationship as he pouted his lip fakely at him.

“Not feelin good toru?” you asked, turning your neck around to look at him, face full of concern.

He felt his heart skip a beat at your worried tone. “Yeah ‘m sorry baby, you looked like you were havin a good time, but I really wanna get outta here.” overwhelming eyes glancing over the room, scaring off each and every last person’s ravenous stares on your body.

You stood up, smoothing out your dress as gojo fell into position like always, hand on the slope of your back as he crouched down to lay his head on your shoulder dramatically, trying to get you to baby him.

It worked, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair, “It’s alright toru, my conversation here was just wrapping up.” you referred to the man who unbeknownst to you was trying to come onto you throughout this whole interaction.

Sticking his tongue out childishly at the man when you weren’t looking, the two of you started for the door.

Gojo never got self conscious about himself, but you were different. He didn’t realize how much he really hated people looking at you like you were nothing but a body until you were in situations like these.

He wasn’t scared you would leave him for someone else but…ok maybe he was slightly scared you would leave him for someone else.

He’s the great Gojo Satoru!! The strongest sorcerer of the modern age!! People think he wasn’t aware of how obnoxious his personality got sometimes, but he was. He was aware of it being a turn off for many people.

He never thought that you would feel like that about him though, but seeing all of these admittedly attractive people who possibly had less annoying tendencies than him made him hold your body against him tighter.

“Are you feeling alright satoru? you never wanna leave these things early.” you asked, coming to stand in front of him when you finally exited the building. Standing on your tippy toes to reach his forehead, placing the back of your hand against it to feel if he was coming down with something.

Gojo relished in your warm hand against his soft skin, closing his eyes at the contact and groaning when you pulled away. “M fine, people just have fucking staring problems.” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?” you asked confused when he didn’t elaborate. Gojo grabbed your hand, dragging you in the direction of the car.

The walk was a short one. When you finally arrived, he opened got door for you, helping you into the car as he shut it behind you, walking around to his respective side of the car and sliding in before turning on the ignition, pulling out onto the dark street.

You rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly when he stayed silent.

“You love me right?” He spoke up, uncharacteristically insecure.

“You big dope, did you get jealous watchin me talk to someone else all night? You left me first remember?” hand coming up briefly to pinch his cheek, making him groan, before dropping back down to his thigh.

“Course I love you.” you admitted truthfully.

“Ugghhhhh” gojo groaned loudly, slightly tipping his head back, being sure to keep his eyes on the road when he did so, “but he was practically fucking you with his eyesss.” drawling our his words childishly, pouting over at you.

“He what?” you asked in bewilderment.

“So oblivious baby, you need to be more careful, someone besides your big strong boyfriend might try to eat you up one day” grimacing slightly as he shook his head at your lack of picking-up-when-people-wanna-fuck-you radar.

“What kinda of weird things are you imagining in that head of yours, huh?” letting out a short laugh at his ridiculousness, retracting your hand back into your own lap.

“I’m seriousss,” he whined, glancing over at you, “He was lookin at you like he could fuck you better than I do.”

You almost choked on your spit at his words, “Satoru gojo!” you chastised at his bluntness.

Now it was his turn to drop his hand onto your thigh, squeezing the fat there when he spoke, “I’ll prove him wrong when we get home, gonna show him how much better I can make you feel.” He said, determination, laced in his voice.

“Satoru I don’t even remember his name.” You replied honestly, not denying that his promise sounded very intriguing though, still internally scoffing at his childishness in the current situation.

“Bet he remembers yours.” Making a point to slide his big hand higher up your thigh.

“Bet he memorized every inch of your body too, fucking undressing what’s mine with his eyes, who does he think he is.” gripping your thigh tightly as he got angry at his own words.

You gasped quietly, thighs squeezing together almost unnoticeably at gojos rough treatment of your leg.

"T-toru you're making stuff up again. You stuttered out, watching his jaw clench under the pressure of his teeth pressing tightly together inside his closed mouth.

Satoru ignored your words completely as he kept voicing his thoughts, "He wouldn't have any idea how to touch you like I do."

"Satoru, please." You begged, starting to feel yourself grow wet at his dirty words.

"What is it princess? The thought of me touchin' you getting you all excited?" Finally stopping his chatter about the unwanted man.

"Yes, please for the love of god stop talking." you gripped his wrist connected to his hand that was still tightly on your thigh.

"But I love making you feel good baby, wanna make you feel good all the time." He wines. You drop your gaze down to his lap and notice the massive tent in his pants, twitching every so often.

He really wasn't lying when he said he loves making you feel good. Figuring that part of the culprit for his huge boner was gojo's own words, working himself up for no reason. Not like you were complaining, as it was sounding like you were about get the best dick of your life soon.

Satoru had nothing to prove to anyone in your eyes, but in his, he had multiple faces burning into his retinas of people from the club that he wanted to line up in front of his king bed, and make them watch while he showed them how to properly treat someone like you.

"You make me feel so good satoru, dont think anyone's denying that, but ur makin' me feel all needy, please shut ur mouth till we get home. Don't know if I can take it." You whine, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand.

He giggled, retracting his hand from your thigh, opting to place his elbow agasint the center console, grinning as he shut himself up, cock still throbbing for attention against his zipper.

The rest of the car ride was silent, air palpable, and thick with the need you both had for each other. When the car came to a park in his garage, he calmly slid out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Walking at a steady pace over to your side of the car while you waited patiently, hands crossed in your lap as you swallowed harshly.

When he slung your door open his hand came into your view, placing your palm in his larger one, he assisted you out of the car, shutting the door behind you. He let you walk in front of him, trailing closely behind you.

Getting your keys out of your purse, you flipped through them, trying to find the one that led to satoru's garage door, shaky hands trying to steady themselves when you felt Gojo press himself against your back.

You felt his clothed boner press against your ass first, followed by his hands sliding over your lower stomach, eyes rolling back at the feeling. Then you felt his plush lips against your neck, leaving soft kisses down the sensitive skin as you fought your brain to work properly so you could insert the key into the door and get on with him.

He whimpered your name into your neck, followed by a "hurry" right when you successfully cracked the door open.

Gojo swiftly spun your body around, pinning you against the door and shutting it in the process, pressing his chest to yours as he assulted your lips with kisses, moaning against you.

He slotted his thick thigh between yours, forcing a whimper out of your mouth as he undid the hooks to your dress on the nape of your neck.

"Bedroom" you managed to get out in between kisses. He started removing his tie, quickly undoing the top 2 of his dress shirt buttons, and pulling you backwards with him when he started for the bedroom.

The light of the night seeping in from his floor to ceiling window wall being the only light the two of you had to be able to navigate through his large house.

You whimpered his name into his mouth, cursing when he slid your zipper down your back while you made your way to the bedroom. You kicked the fabric off your body and he leaned down to scoop you up in his arms, now having unobstructed access to your body.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, panty-clad cunt grinding into the rough material of his pants when you bounced along his body as he walked. "Need you," he muttered against your lips between kisses. while he reached a heavy hand around your back and expertly snapped off your bra.

Bumping you both into the wall quite a few times, easing the tension a bit and making you both giggle into the kiss, before he finally made it to the destination of his bedroom.

Plopping your back down on the bed, legs still tightly wrapped around his hips. Gojo started needily humping against your heat, hand coming down to undo his belt quickly.

"Fuck me satoru." you moaned into his mouth. Gojo had to slap himself mentally at that, gaining a sliver of his rational brain back. He had something he wanted to do before he fucked you good.

"I will baby, I will. don't worry" gojo left his promise all over your lips.

Finding his zipper with ease he slid the metal down, leaning back from your frame to try and slide his pants off, proving to be a challenge when your legs stayed wrapped tightly on his hips.

"Gotta let me go so I can get ready for you princess." He smirked. Your eyes were lidded, face flushed, and lips swollen from his lips assault. Breathing heavily you whispered out an "ok" before dropping your legs against the mattress.

"Such a good girl." Gojo praised, sliding his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, long curved cock flopping up against his abdomen with a wet "plp" sound from he dripping tip. His cock looked so angry, the tip a darker shade of pink than it usually was from how aroused he was right now. Nothing but the thought of pleasing you on his brain.

You pressed your knees together in front of him, trying to relive some of the neediness you were feeling between your thighs at the sight of his thick cock. Your eyes flitted between his deliciously curved member, and his beautiful eyes when he leaned over you again, sliding his fingers underneath the fabric of the panties resting on your hip, and sliding them off of you.

Satoru groaned out loud when the cloth peeled away from your cunt. The part that cupped your mound sticking to your skin from how your wetness had seeped through in anticipation.

"Haven't even done anything yet and you're so fucking wet." he moaned, balling up the panties in his hand and throwing them in the pile he was creating, currently made up of just his pants and boxers, making a mental note to keep that specific pair to himself after this.

Undoing the last couple of his dress shirt buttons he let it drape off his large frame sensually, joining the mess on the floor, leaving him completely nude. You yourself were not fairing any better, having been stripped naked in the hall, expensive dress forgotten somewhere in the living room.

Placing his hands on your kneecaps, he spread you open for him, staring hungrily down at your cunt, shaking his head at his disbelief when he saw the slick practically gushing out of your little hole, clenching around nothing.

"Please do something." You begged. Gojo didn't waste any more time, he wrapped his hands around your hips, and placed his back against the headboard in a sitting position, plopping you down on top of him, smaller hands pressing themselves against his pecs.

His cock throbbed, hovering right under your pussy. If he just thrust his hips up slightly, it might accidentally slip in.

"Want you to face away from me, and sit yourself on my dick." He requested, "Dont worry about movin' jus want you to take it all in yourself." He comforted.

Gojo never got tired of watching you struggle to take in his ridiculous size, little moans and cries slipping out between your lips as your face scrunched in pleasure, tears forcing their way down your cheeks. The latter reaction he unfortunately wouldn't be able to witness this time, as you started into action.

Turning your naked chest away from him; much to his dismay; bracing your feet on the bed, one hand coming back to stabilize yourself against his hard abs while you used the other to align his impossibly hard cock with your tiny hole.

Rubbing the tip and his precum alike against your enterance, before your other hand came down to hold your weight against his abs, cock sliding into you with litte resistance thanks to how wet you both were.

"F-fuuuuck 's so big," You whined, tipping your head back and squeezing your eyes shut at the stretch. Gojo bit his lip, hand gripping bruisingly into your hip, relishing in your warm walls constricting around his cock.

"I knoww, takin it so good though princess, just like you always do," He praised, rubbing his fingertips against your skin as he kept talking you through it. Both of you letting out a groan together when you finally bottomed out on his cock.

You let your weight off of your feet and hands when Satoru placed his own on the bed, slinging your legs over his thighs, and making you hold your legs open for him as he placed kisses to the back of your head, "Did so good baby, took the whole thing so fucking good." His words made you clench around him, a feeling he didn't miss, as he smiled against your scalp.

"Satoru...move," you pleaded, noticing how he was staying still. He told you not to move, so you didn't, but you didn't know if you could take it if he only wanted to cockwarm you right now.

"Patience baby," Your body moved with his slightly when he leaned his body sideways, cracking open the bedside drawer and pulling out a baby blue bullet vibrator, clicking the toy on to make sure it was charged, before clicking it beck off when it successfully vibrated strongly between his fingers.

"Gonna make you feel so good princess," Confused at the brief buzzing sound you heard, about to voice your question when you felt the buzzing this time.

Gojo had pressed the vibrator against the inside of your thigh, slowly dragging it up and down your skin teasingly.

“T-toru- what are u doin?” you asked in a small voice, legs twitching, threatening to close in on themselves if it wasn’t for your hands keeping them open.

“Gonna worship you baby, just lay there n keep those legs spread for me ok?” His tall stature meant that even sitting, he still towered over you. This gave him a great view of everything.

Staring down at you he could see the side of your face; and the blush that covered it; the way your body folded, your wetness sticking against your inner thighs. Gojo was in heaven.

Using his free hand, he splayed his massive palm out right under your breast, keeping you pressed against his body.

He felt your pussy twitch around his cock steadily, feeling the heartbeat in your walls as you continued rubbing the soft silicone that coated the vibrator, over your skin.

The continuous pulsing around his shaft was making him dizzy, eyelids drooping heavily on his face, body buzzing with warmth and arousal at the situation.

His teasing finally ceased when he heard you whimper out his name sweetly, begging for the last time without words that you needed him to do something.

Placing the vibrator on its lowest setting against the hood of your clit softly, rubbing it in small circles over the nub. Gojo alternated between the latter motion and pressing it directly against your clit, pushing the hood of your clit out of the way, being forced to make room for the toy.

Your stomach clenched, body jerking in on itself when the toy touched a particular part of your pussy, and the stimulation became a little too much.

“o-oh my go-d toruuu,” you whined. Gojo’s watchful eyes never left his ministrations on your clit, absolutely enthralled with the scene in front of him. “looks like that feels so fucking good,” he moaned into the shell of your ear, wincing when your walls squeezed around his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“s-oo good f-fuck.” your breathily moans filled the air as you tipped your head back on his shoulder. He quickly started pressing little kisses all over your cheeks as you shut your eyes, letting him take care of you.

“That’s right, let go for me baby, I got you.” he softly whispered against your cheek, diverting his eyes back on your pussy. If he looked close enough he could see the way your opening squeezed around him, the sight being almost too erotic to handle.

“Keep your body against me baby,” he said before he left his hold on your torso and joined it down between your thighs with his other hand.

Using a couple thick fingers, he traced around the opening of your cunt, feeling how the soft flesh was pulled taught to make room for his girth.

“That t-ickles,” you wined, feeling him make a V shape with his index and middle fingers, rubbing them around where the base of his cock and your pussy met.

“Does it only tickle?” he asked, proving your words wrong when he pressed the vibrator harder against you, the buzzing sensation making your toes curl.

“So erotic..” he let out a little giggle, “Wish you could see this right now.” he continued, drawing little shapes on your clit and rubbing around the rim of your cunt, “Pussy is stretched to the limits while she’s huggin my cock.” he spoke, amazed.

You whined at his dirty words, silently wishing he would shut his big mouth, but not daring to say it out loud. His words not-so-secretly making you even wetter.

His cock had been leaking steadily into you throughout this entire interaction. Balls tightening with the need to release his seed inside you, to really fill you up and mark you internally as his.

Gojo closed his eyes, relishing in the intamacy, pressing his plush lips to your neck and sucking, leaving little bruises all over the expanse of your neck that he could reach.

After a while, he noticed your breath had started to pick up, cunt squeezing him continuously now instead of pulsing, “T-toru, think i-i’m gonna cum.” you whined softly, tilting your head towards him, making his raise his from his place against your neck, and stare into your eyes.

He smiled, already knowing from what your body was telling him before you spoke. “Go ahead baby, want feel you cum around my dick, you deserve it.” he spoke sweetly.

As much as he wanted to watch your pussy when it gushed out around him, right now he was so enthralled with your face. The both of you staring at each other, breathing heavily, your expression was pulled in an aroused pout, while his lips were formed in a smile.

You knew this orgasm was going to be a big one, stomach tingling with a stronger sensation than normal. Internally panicking slightly before you spoke, “f-feels d-ifferent toru.” you warned.

“Feel kinda like ur gunna pee?” he knowingly questioned. It took every molecule in his body to not cum when you nodded your head twords him, “Aww ‘s ok princess, just let it out okay? promise it’s gonna feel so fucking good.” he encouraged.

You were about to squirt. This was something he thought about in the back of his mind every time he fucked you. Always wishing that when you came, something else would come out too.

You were squirming around in his hold at the unfamiliar feeling coiling itself in your tummy. The steady buzzing and delicious circles he was keeping up on your clit only increasing the intensity of it.

Feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge, you hurried out your words, “T-toru, kiss meee, p-please,” needing him to help you through the sensation that was about to come.

“I got you, I got you.” he giggled, pressing his lips to yours, messily tonguing the inside of your mouth while your moans raised it pitch, whimpering into his cavern.

“mhm, mhmmm,” he encouraged, as he started thrusting his hips up, fucking his dick in and out of you, helping you feel even better as his tip beat repeatedly against your gspot.

Your mouth stopped cooperating, jaw going slack as you felt your orgasm start to wreck you. Eyes rolling back in your head as the waves of your high washed over you, “yesyesyes,” gojo groaned out laughing, feeling the first trickles of your squirt spray out around him.

You were moaning so loud, broke cries of his barely coherent name leaving your mouth as he quickly rubbed the vibrator back and forth across your clit.

Balls finally releasing his seed into you at the feeling and visual of your squirt absolutely drenching the sheets underneath the two of you.

He groaned into the air, breathy laughs mixing in with them while he humped each and every last rope of his cum into your womb, pressing his balls hard against your ass when he thrusted inside.

“Holy shittt,” he dragged out when he started to come down from arguably one of the best orgasms he’s ever had in his life.

“That was so fucking hot, good job baby,” bringing his attention back your face, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your cheeks, licking up the tears that had fallen.

You looked so fucked out, chest heaving, and cunt twitching around him in the aftershocks, eyes fluttering at the intensity in which you just came.

“You did so fucking well, how did that feel?” he asked? Giving yourself a second to catch your breath before you spoke, you mumbled out, “intense.”

“Awww I bet, looked like it felt so good to let it out though, pussy almost snapped my dick off with that one.” he giggled into your cheek.

“Thank you toru, needed that.” you spoke breathlessly.

“Don’t thank me just yet sweet thing” he said. You cracked your eyes open when you felt him slide out from underneath you, situating you in the missionary position.

Gojo placed the breifly forgot about vibrator back on your oversensitive clit, making your legs squeeze around his hips as he used the tips of his fingers to guide his still hard cock back into your warmth.

“Fuck! S-satoru what are you doing?” you panicked as painful pleasure started wracking your body, trying to jerk and jolt away from the stimulation.

“J-jus came ‘m s-sensitiveee.” you whined, fat tears rolling down your face as he started a rough pace, fucking his cock into your gspot, making your words break up when you spoke.

“Cuming just once isn’t enough for my pretty babyyy, you deserve more than that,” abandoning the vibrator for a second to push your thighs against your head, and placing your ankles over his shoulders as he put you in a mean mating press.

“C-cant t-take it.” you voiced in between thrusts, pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fat cock. Once gojo had manhandled you where he wanted you, he placed the bullet back on your puffy clit, making you scream out.

You were feeling so overwhelmed, thighs burning from being pushed to the limits in flexibility, feeling his weight crush you while he bullied his cock into your drenched walls, and the toy? You swore this would be the night gojo killed you during sex.

“Just let yourself feel it baby, relax your body for me let me do allll the work.” he spoke, trying to reassure you as he dropped his gaze to where the two of you were connected, loud squelches emitting from him fucking into you at how wet you were, gojo feeling lightheaded seeing the thick ring of cum at the base of his dick.

Without warning he felt you squeeze around his length impossibly tight, feeling something spray against his abdomen, realizing you were squirting again.

“Yeaahhhh fuck, that’s what I wanted to see.” He brought back his hips before slamming them into you harder, feeling impossibly aroused seeing this new orgasm crash over you a second time.

Your moans and protests were incoherent at this point, tears and drool covering your face as he fucked you through another intense high.

Satoru started to feel himself reach his peak again but he needed to see that one more time before he allowed himself release.

“Good girl, gooooood fucking girl.” he praised at your lack of resistance when your body went lax against him.

You gave up on fighting the pleasure, really letting your brain go numb at the feeling of, well, everything. There was so much going on, his lips would be on your neck one second, tongue in your mouth the next, babbling some dirty talk you were too fucked out to comprehend.

The vibrator was being slid all over your folds with no rhythm, but it felt so fucking good.

“Cmon you can do it, one more time baby just one more time, need to feel you squirt around me, please.” he begged.

Gojo was fucking you both stupid at this point, he was drooling, feeling so fucking pussydrunk as he mindlessly thrusted his cock in and out of your wetness.

Quickly and sloppily sliding the bullet over your clit one last time before he heard you whimper out a warning of your orgasm, impressed you were still able to form words at this point.

His jaw dropped as he came with you, electricity zapping down his spine feeling you gush around him while he stuffed you full, his moans were so needy and high pitched, overstimulating himself by rolling his hips into yours, making sure your cunt swallowed every drop of his cum.

“F-fuck, loveyousomuch.” he slurred, dropping his entire weight against your folded body, making your tendons scream at the stretch.

“S-satoru..hurts.” you voiced, successfully getting him to lean back, letting your legs drop onto the sheets, thighs and toes tingling when the blood started to circulate through them again.

“God you’re fucking amazing, hope u felt as good as I did.” He murmured into your chest.

“are u kidding? almost died.” you whispered, brain still tingling while you gained your braincells back slowly.

He wrapped his strong arms around your body, keeping his softening cock snug inside you, his chest pressed against your was firmly.

You both relished in the feeling for awhile, intertwining your legs and feet together against the bed, wanting to feel this intamacy for a little longer before you ultimately had to clean up.

“So…think club guy could make you cum harder than that?” he spoke into your breasts.

Using your arms to gather all of the strength you had left, placing your sweaty hands on his cheeks, making him raise his head to look up at you, “Satoru,” you chastised, “don’t ruin this.” falling into a fit of giggles when he groaned in defeat, sending vibrations through your lungs.

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muwapsturniolo · 25 days

Text

✯𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐞✯

IN WHICH…Chris films a TikTok with his best friend to his favorite song, and things take a turn.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!! Drinking, twerking, choking, making out, unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting, slapping, Nick freaking the fuck out.

THIS WAS A REQUEST!!!!

Chris was beyond bored.

He was currently sitting on the couch of his Boston home alone. Everyone had decided to go out (including Trevor), and Chris stayed home. He began to regret it once the boredom took over.

He huffs as he opens the wrapper around the sucker, shoving the cherry-flavored stick in his mouth.

Suddenly his phone rings, a smile taking over his face seeing the familiar name on the screen.

Y/n

She was a very close friend of the triplets and Nate. They considered her to be family based on her actions as a friend. She always made sure the boys stayed out of trouble and prospered in their YouTube career, never letting them quit and damn near beating anyone up that hurt them.

“Hey, you guys busy?” Her voice rings out. he could hear shuffling and the clinking of keys. Chris shakes his head and takes the sucker out his mouth, “Nah, everyone went out and I stayed home…You want to come over? I’m bored out of my mind and need entertainment.”

“On my way Topher! Is it ok if I crash there? I want to drink tonight.”

Chris rolls his eyes hearing that godforsaken nickname, “Stop calling me that ugly ass name. And you know you don’t have to ask.”

Y/n blows a raspberry before telling Chris she’s on her way.

Not even a full twenty minutes later, Y/n is strolling into the home as if it’s her own.

“Topher I missed you!” She wraps her arms around Chris and squeezes him tightly. “Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?” He questions looking down at her.

“Well unless you make me stop, it’s still being said.” He rolls his eyes but can’t help but feel some kind of way about her words.

It was known to everyone who knew Y/n that she was a bit of a flirt. It was natural for her to flirt with everyone, boys and girls. Sometimes it was on purpose, other times it was on accident.

Chris could never tell if she was doing it on purpose with him. He always received mixed signals from her.

“What drinks did you bring?” He asks as he sits back at the island. She hops onto the marble slab and pulls out a bottle of Casamigos, and some form of vodka.

“My personal favorite, casa-freak-hoe!” He snorts at her play-on-words and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a few chasers.

The two adults begin to drink, taking shot after shot as they catch up with each other. It’s not long before the liquor takes over and glosses their minds.

“Let’s do something fun!” Y/n giggles setting her shot glass down.

“Like what?”

“Ooo let’s film TikTok’s!”

Soon the two are making a fool of themselves, dancing and lip-syncing to multiple audios.

A few of them were posted, fans rushing to comment on the infamous duo finally being back together.

“Ooo let's do one to freak hoe!” Y/n urges in excitement.

“Why freak hoe?” Chris asks as he clicks on the sound.

“Because I’m a freak hoe off the Casamigos!”

Chris cackles before pressing the record button.

“Imma throw this money like a free throw-“ he lip syncs before setting the phone down. He backs up and turns to Y/n, clapping his hands to the beat before doing his little dance.

Not thinking straight due to the liquor in her system, Y/n bends over and begins throwing it back on Chris. The boy immediately becomes entranced by the way her ass moves, watching as the soft skin recoils and shakes. He’s amazed at the control of her lower body, it’s almost as if it has a mind of its own.

His hands move before he can even register his own actions, grasping her hips firmly and pulling her into him even more. He groans softly as her ass grinds against his growing tent.

Y/n feels the tent against her ass and stands up straight, whining her hips.

That’s enough to make Chris snap.

He wraps his hand around her neck and pulls her body flush against his, he pulls her head back and firmly presses his lips against hers.

The two begin to sloppily make out, teeth clashing and tongues dancing with each other. With their lips still connected, Y/n turns her body so they are chest to chest. She moans into the kiss as Chris grips her ass firmly before slapping it. She trails one of her hands down to his pants and begins palming him.

He pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, groaning softly.

“It only took you four years,” she teases softly.

It’s true, Y/n has been trying for four years to get Chris to make a move on her, but the boy seemed to be oblivious to her advances. She knew she was flirty and he probably brushed it off but she always amped it up around him.

“Shut the fuck up-“ he grunts before planting his lips back to hers.

The two stand in the kitchen, making out for what seems like decades before Chris finally picks her up and takes her to Nick's room.

He knew Nick would be pissed but he didn’t care, he’d deal with it later.

He slams the door before moving to the bed and laying her down. It’s not long before his hands snake down to her shorts, rubbing over her through the grey material.

The erotic sounds of her wetness moving through her folds make the both of them moan.

“Already wet?”

“S’casamigos.” She admits before bucking her hips. Chris chuckles and takes the initiative to snake his hands down her shorts.

He glides his fingers through her folds before toying with her clit. “Fuck-Chris!” She whimpers throwing her head back. His fingers felt heavenly, but unfortunately she would have to experience them at a different time.

She wasn’t lying when she told Chris she’s a freak hoe off the Casamigos. She was as wet as a waterpark and she needed to be fucked hard and rough, immediately.

“Forget the foreplay Chris and fuck me!” She demands. Chris doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly stripping them both of their clothes.

He yanks her closer by her thighs, rubbing his cock between her folds. Y/n quickly becomes irritated, “Chris I swear to god if you do-Shit!” She throws her head back when he slams into her.

There’s no waiting for her to adjust, there’s no soaking in the moment, it's just Chris continuously thrusting harshly like his life depended on it.

Her legs are being held wide open as he ruts into her, his thighs ricocheting off the back of hers. His grunts and her moans bounce off the walls along with the headboard, their melodic noises filling up the empty house.

Chris presses down on her stomach and uses his thumb to rub her clit.

“Oh shit! Oh my god!” Her back arches as she feels her orgasm quickly approaching. She clenches her eyes shut only to snap them open when she feels a sting on her cheek.

“Eyes open baby, wanna see you when you cum.”

He pushes her legs back further before jack hammering into her.

“FUCK FUCK FU-“ her eyes roll back as her body withers under him, her juices coating his abdomen. “Holy shit-“ seeing her squirt was enough for Chris to stall deep inside of her, throwing his head back as he lets go.

He collapses on top of her, breathing harshly. Much to his surprise he doesn’t get to relax for long, Y/n flipping them other. She crawls on top of him and rocks back and forth, whimpering as his cock stimulates her clit.

Chris grunts and tries to stop her movements, “Jesus Christ give me a minute.”

“Stop being a fucking pussy Chris and let me ride you!”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters before letting her do what she wants. Y/n sinks down on him and immediately begins to bounce up and down.

Chris grips her hips tightly, watching her breasts bounce with low and lustful eyes. He bites his lip and trails his hand upward, tweaking and pulling at her nipples.

“Shit princess, you look so good being on top.”

He looks down between them and groans at the unholy site.

A thick white cream sits on the base of his cock, some of the cream even on the inside of her thighs as well. He watches as it spreads around each time her thighs land against his, the thunderous slapping sounds also sounding wet and sticky.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, the feeling of his orgasm hitting him hard.

He snaps his eyes open and looks at a smirking y/n, shocked that she slapped him.

“Eyes open baby, I want to see you when you cum.”

She taunts him with his own words. He growls and snaps his hips upward, the girl yelping and falling forward. Chris wraps his hand around her throat and pushes her back up.

Y/n’s eyes roll back as Chris continues to thrust upward meeting her bouncing. “take it baby, you can handle it.”

Incoherent noises tumble from her mouth as she holds on to his wrist. “Gonna cum with me?” He pants.

“Y-yes!” She rasps out, her eyes rolling back.

He lets go of her throat and holds on to her hips once again. Y/n leans back, using one arm to support herself as she uses the other to quickly swipe back and forth against her clit.

She lets out a loud drawn out mewl as she squirts once again. Her juices land all over the bed, along with his chest. “Fuck!” She shouts at the overstimulation coming from Chris’s thrusting.

Chris grips her hips excruciatingly tight as he cums once again, holding her down in place.

“Holy shit-” He pants out. Y/n giggles tiredly as she slowly climbs off of him. Chris stops her, watching as the thick semen pools out of her and onto his now soft cock.

He doesn’t have much time to relish at the site due to the door being swung open, “Chris were home! Is Y/n he-OH MY GOD!” Nick quickly turns around at the site of his brother and their best friend naked in his bed.

“I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO KILL THE BOTH OF YOU! WHY ARE YOU HAVING SEX IN MY ROOM!? MY ROOM!” Nick slams the bedroom door, his shouting still being heard.

The two adults quickly attempt to get dressed, their intoxicated minds making them giggle at the whole ordeal. Suddenly the door is opened once again and a bottle of Lysol is thrown, hitting Chris in the head.

A paper towel roll is thrown as well and hits Y/n in the chest, “Jesus Christ Nick what the fuck!?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU ARE CLEANING MY ROOM AND YOU ARE SLEEPING IN HERE TONIGHT WHILE I SLEEP IN YOUR BED CHRIS! YOU TWO ARE DISGUSTING!”

The door slams shut for the last time before footsteps are heard stomping up the stairs.

Chris rolls his eyes and goes to put his shirt on but is stopped by Y/n,

“Want to go again?”

“You weren’t lying when you said you’re a freak hoe off the Casamigos.”

He pushes her down on the bed with a smile on his face before dropping to his knees in between her legs.

I HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT!!!!🍑

TAGLIST 🍑

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@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

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omg omg omg totally new silly idea- human! alastor x human! reader where they meet at a party and go outside for a walk near the pier and the moon is beautiful and… they pull out weapons on each other (specifically Alastor a knife and reader a gun) and thats when they decide to form a partner in crime partnership

And in other to keep appearances they are forced to “fake date”

Mimzy: youve been spending some time with that new girl havent you, is she your gf or smth?” chuckle

Naize 20 yr old smth Alastor trying to think of a response thats not that:...

Mimzy: OMG IS SHE?

Alastor: sureeeeee

And they aren't actually into each other until a lot later into their partnership when they’re chasing some guy and reader gets to them first and just starts going at it “hey man i think hes had enough” “YOU WANT WHAT HES HAVING???” thpe shit

and Alastor has to catch his breath and he lowkey thinks hes dying because his heart starts beating a lot, And he goes again to mimzy for advice cuz i dont think he has anu friends and shes like “oh sweetie…”

And because its quite impossible to not get attached at one point theyre in another chase and reader starts laughing hysterically like “did you see him trying to run away??? lmao” and he goes “I couldnt take my eyes off you” and then just grabs her face and SMOOCH >:)

I think its a good trope- fake dating to actual dating even if its. about. murderers- :3

A/N YOU GUYS COME UP WITH THE BEST REQUESTS JESUS CHRIST!!! Also I promise I will get to the rest of the requests this weekend, I had two exams today so this is the only thing I am gonna post. Sorry.

Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: uh, murder. Mild gore. Violence. Weapons.

Word Count: 4,460 (I went a little overboard with this one)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"I'll walk her home, don't worry Mimzy." Alastor was saying as Y/n pulled her coat over her shoulders.

The noises of the party still raging on filtered into the grand entryway of the house, muffled through the walls. Mimzy shot her two friends a suspicious look.

"It's nothing like that, Mimz." Y/n sighed, straightening the collar of her fur coat, "I just asked cause of all those murders in the news. Kinda freaky, don't you think? I don't really wanna be out alone at night and Al here was kind enough to offer."

Mimzy crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure." she teased.

"Mimzy." Alastor sighed in response and she put her hands up in false surrender.

"Sorry! Sorry." she hummed playfully, "I know you two free birds would never."

Alastor rolled his eyes and, turning to Y/n, held out his arm. She took it daintily, a grateful smile on her face. The pair had just met a few hours earlier but had quickly fallen into a casual camaraderie. He lead her from the house, Mimzy calling her goodnights and wishes for their safety after their retreating forms.

It was a mostly quiet walk through the desolate midnight streets of New Orleans. Y/n hummed softly, kicking a can along with the toes of her healed shoes.

"You'll ruin them that way, wont you?" Alastor asked, feigning concern.

Y/n just shrugged.

"They're shoes. Yeah, they're nice but I wont let that stop me from living. Let's stop by the water, it's so pretty tonight."

Alastor turned slightly, looking out at the Mississippi with it's slightly turbid waters reflecting the light of the stars. He tried not to smile, it was like she wanted him to carry out his intended work. She was making it so easy for him.

"Sure."

They turned towards the rail and Y/n let go of his arm, leaning her elbows against it. She let out a sigh of longing as her eyes tracked the ripples in the surface.

Alastor watched her for a moment, the moon illuminating her features. She was a handsome woman, there was no doubt about it. It had been proved to him tenfold by the amount of prospective partners she had turned down dances with at the party in favor of drinking with him at the bar. That was not what Alastor was interested in, however. Once he was sure she was distracted, once he was sure she had no intent to take her eyes from the glowing river, he looked down. Moving his coat slightly to the side, his hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife he had stashed in his waistband for just such an occasion.

He pulled it out, the weight familiar, almost comforting in a sense, in his hand. There was a click. He looked up, the blade pointed to its intended target.

Y/n was facing him now, a wry smile on her face. One foot in front of the other, she took a step forward. The muzzle of the gun, the cocking of which had been the source of the noise which had drawn his attention, just a few centimeters from his chest. The tip of his knife hovered indefinitely by the open center of her coat. He chuckled in amusement, eyebrows raised.

"I thought there were a few more bodies in the news than there should have been. A gun? Really?"

Y/n shrugged.

"I'm little. I don't have the privilege of being able to overpower my victims like you."

Alastor hummed softly. A slight breeze picked up, playing with the edges of their hair.

"What a shame."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"I don't think so. It works well enough."

"Those machines are inelegant, they are detached."

"And you prefer a sense of intimacy to be involved in all your escapades?"

Alastor removed the knife, holding it up to his eyes. He turned the blade over in his hand, examining it closely. Following suit, Y/n let her hand fall to her side, the gun still cocked should an occasion arise to use it.

"I have an idea." he suddenly announced.

"Oh?" Y/n asked.

She took a step back, returning to the water's edge. Alastor followed, leaning over the railing beside her. They watched one another closely, weapons still clutched loosely in their hands.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what it is or am I gonna have to guess?" Y/n teased after a moment, breaking the oddly comfortable silence that had fallen after Alastor's last words.

"There have been a few times, of late, where I've come a bit... uncomfortably close to being seen."

"Getting lazy." Y/n hummed, "Or maybe just cocky."

"It seems like you could use a hand, someone with brute strength in case anything goes wrong."

She scoffed, smiling just the slightest bit.

"Are you proposing we work together?"

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Y/n shook her head slightly, amused.

"How would I know you wouldn't just turn on me? End up killing me or decide not to step in if I needed help?"

"And how would I know that you wouldn't rat me out? Alert someone to where I was and what I was doing rather than telling me someone was coming? It's called trust, Y/n."

Y/n thought it over, fiddling with the gun in her grip as she did so. Alastor watched, seeing the gears turning in her mind through the light of her eyes.

"Fine." she said at last, un-cocking the gun and holding a hand out to him, "You've got yourself a deal."

Alastor smiled, slipping the knife back into his belt before grasping her hand in his. It was chilled by the air of the January night enveloping them.

"Deal."

Y/n quickly learned Alastor's preferred demographic. He had a penchant for angry men, drunks. Y/n had been a one off, a spur of the moment opportunity he had thought to take hold of. Alastor had not been like that for her. Y/n's preferred victims were also men. Anyone that showed any pressing interest in her, anyone who tried to take her home for the night, always ended up six feet under. For both, murder was a way of processing their personal experiences and traumas.

As a result of their deal, Y/n and Alastor began to spend more time together. They had to learn one another's intricacies, their ways of thinking, their nature of being. It was a necessity if anything was actually going to work. They both had rather busy work schedules, Alastor as a radio broadcaster with his very own show and Y/n as a seamstress at a local dress shop. Because of this, more often than not, the only time they had to get to know one another was through shared meals. Both of them had to eat, needed a lunch break or dinner. It was just what worked. Because of their slightly shared demographic of victim, they ended up in bars together quite frequently as well.

It was in one of these meet ups that they ran into their first difficulty. Y/n was sitting across a table from him outside a cafe, lazily sipping on a coffee as she perused the missing persons list in a newspaper. The newspaper was old, they were exchanging information about who was responsible for what. Working together didn't just mean knowing one another as they were now, but their histories as well.

They should have known not to sit in such a public place. Both had many connections in the city due to their jobs, though few friends. It just so happened on that day that the one true friend they did have in common was walking down the very street they sat on.

"Alastor?" Mimzy exclaimed, catching sight of his familiar face and moving towards their table.

Y/n folded the newspaper, placing it on the table as she turned towards the sound. Mimzy came to a stop, her brow furrowing in mild confusion as she saw her friend was not in fact alone.

"And Y/n, fancy meeting you two here."

"Pull up a chair, Mimz." Y/n smiled and Mimzy obeyed.

Swinging a spare chair from a nearby table, she quickly joined them.

"I haven't seen you two since the party! How have you been."

"Fine, fine." Alastor hummed and Y/n nodded her assent.

"And whats this with you two getting coffee?" Mimzy asked, a teasing smile slipping onto her face as Alastor took a sip of his own drink, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, not at all Mimz." Y/n shook her head, a slight smile on her face, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"You sure this isn't a date or something? I mean, with the way you two left and everything... having coffee alone..."

Alastor nearly choked on his drink. Y/n and Mimzy turned to him as he put a hand to his chest, clearing his throat.

"Excuse me." he said and Mimzy's grin widened.

"Oh this is totally a date."

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, exchanging a fervent glance with Y/n across the table.

She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. Without words, she told him to handle it. Alastor sighed.

"Are you sure?" Mimzy asked, a suggestive tone to her voice.

"I... uh..." Alastor stuttered, his brain working in overdrive to think of anything else. It came up empty, "Fine. Yes. We're... we're on a date."

"You caught us." Y/n chimed in and Mimzy turned to her.

"Oh my stars! You two.... I shoulda guessed you'd get on like a house on fire. Shame I can't invite you to any more of my singles parties though Y/n, you are a riot."

Singles parties. A hunting ground. Y/n smiled.

"No, no, Mimz. We're not exclusive or anything."

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly at the revelation as Alastor shot Y/n a look across the table. Dating was going to be hard for them to sell but swingers too? What was she thinking.

"Really? How exotic." Mimzy hummed in thought.

"We're all going to hell anyways so, why not." Y/n shrugged.

"Oh you." Mimzy laughed, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder as she got to her feet, "Well, I won't keep you love birds any longer. I'll see you next week for the next party then?"

"We'll see." Alastor hummed placidly.

Once Mimzy had gone, he rounded on Y/n.

"Swingers?" he asked, eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who started the whole 'we're dating' thing." Y/n sighed, picking the newspaper back up and resuming the task at hand, "I just made it easier for us."

"It will utterly destroy my reputation if this gets out you know."

Y/n shot him a look over the top of the paper.

"Al, you got a lot more to worry about than pretending to be a swinger in terms of your reputation. Now, Marcus Alcost? Six four, buff, scar on his left forearm? Brown hair?"

"Blue eyes?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Yep, that was me."

"Nice. Musta been a tough one to take down."

Alastor would track men, following them out as they left the establishments in the small hours of the morning with the intent of returning to their families. He would stalk them, corner them, lead them in. Y/n would stand watch, alerting him at the first sign of trouble.

The moment she heard footsteps, chatter, Y/n would duck in. Grabbing Alastor by the arm, she would whisk him off in some random direction, having consistently used the time she was on lookout to scout for escape routes.

They had had a few close calls, one or two times he had had to press her up against a wall and pretend to kiss her to avoid prying eyes. They always had a good laugh after something like that. Mostly, things worked out well. They each had survived on their own for years at this point. They knew what they were doing, adding another person into the mix just made it a tad easier.

Y/n, on the other hand, didn't need to track her victims down, they did that work for her. She would dress up all pretty and the moment someone asked to take her home or something of the like, would agree. Then she'd pull them into some ally or another under the guise of not wanting to wait a second longer and attack. Alastor would stand behind her, arms crossed menacingly as she carried out her work. He threatened so she could perform and she never had any trouble thanks to him.

That was, until one night about a year into their little partnership. As the time had passed, their relationship had grown. They still held the ruse of dating up before anyone who asked why it was they each spent so much time with the other but, a real friendship had begun to blossom between them as well. As it turns out, they had a lot more in common than just a tendency to commit brutal murders. Y/n knew Alastor well by now, better than anyone else most likely, and he knew her as well. That was how he could tell something was wrong.

Y/n had given Alastor the usual signal from across the bar and he had settled his tab. As he followed the pair, Y/n and the tall man whose hand she held, Alastor had noticed something was off. Normally by this point Y/n was stumbling around, pretending to be drunk and ditzy. She was doing this very thing now but in a more halted and jagged way. The man she was with seemed more believably drunk than she was, swaying this way and that. Her movements were uncharacteristically harsh as she pulled the man into the ally about a block ahead of him.

Alastor picked up the pace, breaking into a light jog. He reached the ally and turned down it, expecting to see Y/n flirting with the man or with her gun out already. Instead, he was met with something entirely different.

At the back of the ally lay the huddled mass of the man. On top of him was Y/n. The thuds of her knuckles against his face was the only sound breaking the silence of the night. She hit him, again and again. Alastor stood there, stunned.

"Dear, whatever is the matter?" he asked at last, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"Y/n."

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see the splatters of blood now, on the ground around them and the wall behind. The thuds included the occasional squelch, the crack of a bone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

"You'll ruin your hands for work tomorrow if you keep at this."

Still, she ignored him. There was a sickening crunch. Sighing, he approached.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He could see it now, the man's mutilated face. Part of his skull looked like it had caved in. He had stopped moving long ago.

"Y/n, dear," Alastor tentatively reached out a hand towards her shoulder as he spoke, "don't you think he has had enough?"

Y/n whipped around to him, her eyes wild and her bloody raw knuckles raised. He froze, his hand hovering above her shoulder. There was blood everywhere. It soaked the sleeves of her collard shirt, it dripped from her fingers, it decorated her face and her bared teeth.

"What, you fucking want some too?"

Alastor's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage, begging for escape. It wasn't fear, it couldn't be. He could take this girl down in ten seconds flat, blood hungry as she was.

Y/n's eyes, sharp with violence, softened slightly as she saw his reaction. She let her hands fall, resting them on the man's chest.

"He tried to drug me." she revealed, turning her eyes back to her mess, her masterpiece.

"He what?"

"Yeah." she sighed, using the back of her hand to push her hair from her eyes, leaving a residue of blood in the wake of the movement, "I caught him, switched the drinks."

Alastor shifted his gaze to the man before falling on Y/n once again. Her face was blank now, all the rage gone.

"He tried to drug me." she said again, her voice hollow.

At last, his hand found its home on her shoulder and she turned to face him once again. Alastor extended his free hand to Y/n. She examined it for a moment before daintily placing one of her own in his and allowing him to help her to her feet. Both her hands now rested in his as they looked back at the remains of the man.

"Well, he's definitely dead."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hands. Now free, he used one of them to turn her face to his. Blood spattered, wide eyed, lips slightly parted -- his heart fought for freedom from his chest once again.

"He deserved it."

Alastor let go of Y/n's chin and used the cuff of his jacket to wipe some of the blood from her face.

"Can you walk me home?"

Normally if she had asked something like that, Alastor would have teased her to no end. Why be scared of the monsters in the dark when she herself was one of them? But her voice had been small, timid. She had avoided his eyes and his fingers tingled at the prospect of her viewing him as protector.

"Of course, my dear."

They did not have another planned meeting until two weeks from that day. Y/n had a big project at work and wouldn't have any spare time because of it. Alastor, normally restless at the idea of having to wait so long to satisfy his bloodlust either by killing or seeing the show of death, was grateful for the respite. He was confused, overwhelmed even, because his strange reactions, the change in his patterns of thought towards the girl, hadn't ended at Y/n's front door.

No, she was haunting him. Like a vengeful ghost, he saw her in his mind. She took up every waking moment, he didn't know what to do. Alastor waited a day and still, it persisted. The skip of his heart, the odd slightly sick feeling in his stomach at the thought of their reunion. He waited three days and it didn't stop. By the time the end of the week rolled around and Alastor still found himself smiling at the prospect of only having to wait another week not to kill but to see Y/n again, he did the unthinkable. It was the only option he could come up with. Besides Y/n, she was the only other person in the world he even half trusted. Alastor called Mimzy.

"Alastor, darling!" she excitedly exclaimed into the phone, "What a surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, hey Mimzy. Um..." he struggled to find the words, fiddling with the phone cord as he walked to the window, looking down at the street below, "I just... I need your advice about something."

"What is it, hun?" she immediately replied, "Seems its got you in a tizzy, not a lot can do that."

"I... It's about Y/n."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?"

"No. Maybe?" he turned from the window, collapsing in his desk chair, "I don't know."

"Spill."

"Well, we... I just.... Mimz, I can't stop thinking about her."

"Well I would hope not, you've been together for almost a year now."

"Yeah well, about that. It may have been a... stretching of the truth? Shall we say?"

"Al." Mimzy warned after a moment's silence, "If you are playing with this gi-"

"No!" he exclaimed, cutting her off and quickly crafting an excuse, "No. It was just to get our parents off our backs. We had a deal. They were both pestering us about when we were gonna get married, you know how it is."

"I thought your dad was dead?"

"My ma though, she really wants to see me settled down."

"I guess that explains the swingers thing." Mimzy sighed, "It didn't really seem in character for either of you. So, whats the matter?"

"I told you, I can't stop thinking about her. It's like... it's like... look, we're not dating, but we're friends, you know? And we were out at a bar together a few nights ago and she just... she did something and when I looked at her, it was like I died."

"That little minx." Mimzy laughed in glee, "What the heck did she do?"

"Just something, okay?"

"I have got to quiz her about this."

"No! Please, no. She'd... probably be embarrassed."

"Mmm... okay...." came Mimzy's doubtful reply, "So what was it you needed help with?"

"Well, that. It was like the breath had left my body entirely. I felt... sick, my chest hurt. It was so strange. I thought it would go away once I got some sleep but it didn't. Every time I think about her, it feels like there is a vice around my heart and I can't stop thinking about her."

"Al, seriously? This is what you're asking me about?"

"Yeah?" he uncertainly replied after a moment.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Mimzy, are you going to help or not?"

She sighed.

"Alastor, you have a crush on her."

A beat.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. Maybe even more."

"I..." his brow furrowed, his breath left his body.

This was bad. This could be dangerous, detrimental even.

"Are you sure?"

"Butterflies in your stomach? Pains in your chest? Can't get her out of your mind? You're even breathless for christ's sake Al. It's textbook first pangs of love."

"Fuck."

Mimzy laughed.

"You're already pretend dating, what harm would asking her to do the real thing with you do? My bet is, she's probably been feeling the same thing about you. That tends to happen in cases like yours, I've seen it before. The whole 'fake love turns real' trope. It's overdone if you ask me."

"Mimzy, this isn't one of your trashy romance novels. This is my life."

"So live it radio man! Go get that girl."

Alastor was nervous, trembling even as he sat at the bar. His glass of whiskey had gone warm on the table as he watched Y/n dancing and having fun in the crowd. This was how it usually went when it was his turn to hunt, she'd have fun and he'd find a target. Once the target left, he'd grab her and they'd move out.

Tonight he was distracted and it showed. The man had nearly given them the slip. With Alastor's knife still sticking out of his shoulder, he had ducked away and started running. Of course that meant Alastor and Y/n had to give chase. They ran after him through the streets of New Orleans as he screamed bloody murder and Y/n's heels clicked definitively on the ground. He was thankful that the hour was late and no one was out and about, thankful the man was so drunk his words came out closer to garbled singing than pleas for help, thankful he was slowed by his consumption.

When they at last caught up with him, Alastor grabbed his second knife from his belt and, taking the man's hurt shoulder in his free hand, buried it deep in the man's back. He fell to the floor, sputtering, coughing up blood. In a few moments he was still. Alastor turned to Y/n, panting.

Her pretty eyes traced a path between murderer and victim a handful of times before a smile broke out onto her face. Before he could really register what was happening, she was doubled over in laughter, clutching her stomach.

Alastor watched Y/n, eyebrows raised as they both caught their breath. After about a minute, she straightened up and turned to him, wiping a tear from her eye.

"What?" Alastor asked with a wry smile, "What is so funny about a dead man."

"He..." she broke out into laughter again, "He... the way he ran! And we almost lost him?! Oh my god, Al, that coulda been so bad."

"The way... he ran?"

"He... didn't you see it? Oh my god, it was so funny. Like he was running in a three legged race with an invisible partner." she wheezed.

Alastor felt the heat pooling in his cheeks. Mimzy was right, it was time for him to live his life. A normal existence could coexist with his hobby, Y/n had already proved that to him.

"Didn't you see?" she asked again.

"No." he shook his head, "I was... I was watching you."

"You were... Al, theres no way you were." Y/n scoffed, "No way. If you were watching me, he would have gotten away. If you were watching me, it would meant that you were unconcerned by your oh-so-precious reputation being ruined. If you were watching me, it would mean..."

She trailed off as he took a step closer to her, his gaze flicking between her eyes and her lips. Y/n's cheeks flushed pink.

"Alastor."

Her voice was a dying prayer. Reaching a trembling hand up, he laid it on the back of her head, his fingers tangling with her hair as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Alastor closed the gap.

He had been so scared. Scared she would push him away, that she wouldn't kiss back. Even a little bit scared he'd just become the next name on her list of degenerate men she'd killed.

There was a moment, a split second, where his fears were realized. Then, she washed them all away. Hands buried in the lapel of his jacket, she pulled him closer, Y/n leaned in.

They broke apart after a moment, their cheeks flushed and utterly breathless.

"I-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/n?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Are you going to try to kill me again?"

"Oh please, I thought we'd moved past that darling."

Y/n smiled, still holding him close. Alastor let his hands fall onto her waist as they swayed slightly under the light of the moon.

"Yes Alastor. I will let you take me on a date."

"We will not be swingers."

Y/n laughed.

"Just had to make that clear."

"No, Alastor. If I am going to get you, I want you all to myself. Now, what are we going to do about that body?"

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 2

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reallyromealone · 4 months

Note

Can you do a long fic where bakugou has a baby brother like maybe 2 years old?

Title: sibling bonding

Fandom:my hero Academia

Warnings: male reader, baby reader, fluff, big brother Bakugo, soft Bakugo

Notes: I can't promise a long fic as my fic lengths are based off of how much steam I have but ill write what I can

☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️

Bakugo was happy to have the house mostly alone, his parents in Milan for two weeks he had off for a fashion show.

Why was he mostly alone?

Well they couldn't take his little brother, the two year old didn't do planes well and it was just easier to find a sitter or let him stay with someone for the time, usually their aunty. "Uh-oh" (name) said as he dropped his sippy cup carefully lifting it back up before wandering to his brother "ka!" He said happily as he climbed onto the couch "what squirt?" Katsuki said to the young tot who looked at his phone "what do?" He asked as Katsuki got notifications from discord "I'm texting a few friends, they're coming to visit later for a movie" he was always so soft with his brother, sure he was loud as the rest of his family but his baby brother took more after their dad so he always tried to be gentle.

"Oovee?" He asked curiously and Katsuki nodded "yeah a movie, we gotta get some snacks for you and me before it" he said to the boy who smiled "cake!" "No cake but we can get you a cake pop when we get our walk home drink" Katsuki knew how to compromise with the boy who clapped his hands excitedly.

Katsuki helped (name) put on his shoes before putting him on his shoulders, it was easier to do than hold his hands and (name) got to have fun.

The two went to the convenience store as (name) pointed to various snacks, Katsuki having to hinder the boy with the fact he wanted /everything/ the store had to offer but did compromise with some ice cream and little treats for after dinner and such.

"Cake!" (Name) was absolutely thrilled when Katsuki handed him a cake pop, the teen holding the snacks with one hand and had (name) on his hip as they walked home, (name) eating his treat contently, the boy taking a sip from their drink occasionally.

(Name) loved helping his brother, the tot getting to help put things together for the hang out "you get to watch a movie then it's bath time alright?" Katsuki said to his brother who did a little dance before running off to go play with his toys 'weird kid' Katsuki thought fondly as he finished prep.

"YOOOO BAKUBRO!" Kirishima said as he and a few other classmates entered the Bakugo house, Kaminari whistling at how nice it was inside "whose ready to paaaarty!" Mina said as her, ochaco and Momo came inside with snacks "let's watch some scary...shoopuff" mina halted when she saw the two year old in Katsukis arms, little (name) looking curious but recognized Kirishima from a few visits "little man!" Kirishima ran and grabbed the boy and lifted him "what's up!"

"Hiiii!"

"Whose the kid?" Kaminari asked as (name) spoke nonsense to Kirishima but it was probably his day if any context about "walk" and "cake pop" were to go off of "that's my brother" Katsuki said gruffly, a slight glare on his face as his friends looked at the babe curiously.

During the movie, the teens would notice Bakugo would be soft with the boy even when he scolded him "oi, leave that alone" "but you're smelly!" (Name) argued back, holding a book in his hands "put it down and park your ass and watch the movie or its night time" Bakugo said to his brother who huffed but complied "you're not my favorite brother anymore!"

"Ah? And who is?"

"Dad!"

The movie went on well, the group putting on a hero movie and before they knew it, it was (name)s bath time "bubububbub!" (Name) was pleased with the bubbles as he played with his toys, his older brother working around him to wash him "head back" the teen said gruffly as he put a visor on the boys forehead and rinced out the shampoo before repeating it with the conditioner "kaa! Ducky!" The boy squirted some water at his brother who rolled his eyes "wanna see something cool?" He asked his little brother who looked curious "ya!'

Katsuki put his hand in the water and activated his quirk, just enough to give a jacuzzi affect "whoa!" The boy said excitedly as Katsuki pulled his hand out "now, out ya go!"

"Nooo!"

"None of that! Come on, let's brush your fucking teeth and get you to bed brat"

(Name) cuddled into his brothers shoulder as he wore his fuzzy pajamas, the other teens waving him goodnight as Katsuki brought him to his bedroom and tucked him into bed "hah? What's this?" Katsuki held up a small handmade plush of him in his hero suit "Die'ite!" (Name) grabbed the plush and Katsuki felt a small smile creep on his face as his little brother hugged the toy "he a hero you like?"

"He's the bestest!"

#bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x male reader #bakugo x male reader #male reader #x male reader #child reader #baby reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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writingsbychlo · 5 months

Text

IS IT NEW YEARS YET? | lorenzo berkshire

summary; you're not a huge fan of new years, since when was it all about couples, anyway? luckily, someone else is in the same boat.

word count; 6712

notes; this is completely unedited, it's bound to be riddled with mistakes. this is the second to last christmas fic, just my baby mattheo to go! I saved the best for last.

Sitting at the table, you did your very best to hide the scowl sitting on your face. Pansy had left you only a moment ago to dance with Luna, Astoria had pulled Draco away onto the floor ages ago, and Blaise was off flirting up a storm with every girl possible. Regulus was sulking at the bar with his brother, while Mattheo and Theo had long since snuck away to smoke and hide from the party.

That just left you. Sat alone at the table, trying not to get too drunk as you watched all the happy couples around you mingle. The Christmas period had always been so fun, but lately, it only seemed to be a holiday for couples. Which, really wasn’t fair, in your opinion. They already had Valentine’s Day, why the fuck did they need this one, too?

However, everything seemed to be spinning around kissing at midnight, and dancing, and romance, and Luna’s bag full of grapes, for whatever that was about. You’d tuned out when she’d begun explaining.

Glancing around the room in search of the only remaining member of your party who was unaccompanied, perhaps a little reprieve from the loneliness, you spotted Enzo near his parent's table. He looked, in a single word, uncomfortable. Scratching at the back of his neck, he wore a scowl, and while you couldn't hear over the loud music and chatter what he was saying all that distance away, it was clear that he wasn’t happy.

His mother glared at him, and his anger dimmed only a second, a flash of fear in his eyes, a bob of his throat, but he didn’t back down. Finishing off the last of your drink and standing, the sequins of your dress glitter under the lights, falling perfectly in the simple, floor-length dress you’d chosen for the evening.

As you wove through the bodies, heels clicking on the floor, you started to be able to pick out the deep rumble of his voice throughout the other conversations. He didn’t have a great relationship with his parents. Certainly, not as bad as others in the group, but strained He rarely wrote them, he only ever went home at Christmas and Summer, and they never came to visit. In almost a decade of knowing Enzo, you’d perhaps spoken to them three times, and once, was merely your introduction.

“I’m not going to date a girl I don’t know just because you think I ought to!”

Your brows furrowed, stilling momentarily as his words raced through your mind. Regulus’ parents had tried to set him up with someone recently too, only six months ago, they’d sent him letter after letter about the eligible girls from other noble families he could woo. You’d gone pale upon discovering your own name on the list, quite highly ranked, and Regulus had assured you that as much as he loved you dearly as a friend, he had absolutely no interest in pursuing you romantically. Nor, any of the girls on the list.

However, you hadn't expected Enzo’s parents to leap on him so fast. Your mother had been making some subtle comments about relationships lately, but nothing nearly so bold, not since your break-up. Enzo dragged a hand through his hair as he groaned, this conversation obviously wasn’t going in his favour, and you pitied him.

In a generous mood, you finished your walk, closing in by his side and putting on the charming smile that you knew could win over any adult or peer, with a few simple words and a bat of your lashes. Anyone, except, perhaps Enzo’s mother. Her eyes narrowed on you as you placed a hand on Enzo’s lower back, standing respectably by his side, by far closer than could be considered friendly, as you smiled up at him.

“Enzo, sweetie, Draco is looking for you.”

“Wh— What?” His brows pulled together, obviously confused, and you slipped your arm around his waist, settling in by his side.

“Lorenzo, who’s your friend?” His mother’s cold tone sliced through the space between you as his gaze scanned over your features.

“Hi, Mrs Berkshire.” You held your hand out offering your name, and she only hummed, shaking it loosely before returning her hand to her side, elegantly. “I’m Enzo’s… well, we haven’t quite figured out terms yet, have we? I’m his date tonight… at least, I hope?”

He did well to hide his flicker of surprise, before finally seeming to understand the aim of the game, his arm snaking around your body like a boyfriend might do, and curling you further into his side. “Of course you are, darling.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Your giggle was far more high-pitched and sweet than usual, but the tension bled from his mother’s shoulders just a fraction, as she analysed the pair of you. For emphasis, Enzo leaned in to press a polite kiss to your temple, and you stretched your smile wider, like a happy girlfriend would. “I’m so sorry to have interrupted, I promised Draco I’d find you, and you left me all alone at the table. I was starting to miss you, but now I see you were doing something important. I thought perhaps you’d snuck away with the boys.”

The piercing gaze of his mother drilled into you, but you didn’t falter, or show any weakness. In your social circles, one cowering sign was just an opening for snapping teeth at throats, and you wouldn't give anyone such an opportunity.

“Why would you now simply tell us that you had a date, Lorenzo?” His mother eventually questioned, finally dragging her stare away from you and back to her son, and you felt like you could breathe again at last.

“Well, as you heard my girl say,” He murmured, stumbling only slightly over the words, and recovering them smoothly with a cough. “We haven’t settled on any kinds of labels yet. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, or too forward.”

“And how long have you been seeing one another?” She wasted no time, raising a brow.

“Just two months.” You smiled, and she flickered her sights to you for only a moment. “You raised a real gentleman, Mrs Berkshire. He’s been so patient and sweet, it can be so hard to find times between classes to see one another and spend time together. We’ve been taking it slow. I apologise if I come as a surprise to you tonight, that’s my fault. I asked Enzo not to write to you, because I haven’t told my own parents yet, you see.”

Leaning in to whisper your joke, as if you were passing secret information;

“My father can be a little over-protective, I wanted to spare Enzo, so I knew my father wouldn't scare him away.”

At that finally, a smirk broke on her lips. She made a vague sound of agreement, and you could feel your friend relax a little where your hand was rubbing his side, gently. “Well, I suppose I can understand that. Lorenzo, you may leave for now. But I do not expect to be kept in the dark on such matters again.”

Waggling a finger at him, he only nodded, eyes wide. “Of course, Mother. It won’t happen again.”

Leaning in to kiss her cheek, he gave a hurried goodbye, before steering you away with his arm still around you, and guiding you back toward the other side of the room. When you were far enough away he knew his parents wouldn't hear them, he let out a shaky laugh, and turned to look down at you.

“I don’t know if you’re brave, stupid, or both. Taking on my mother like that? Impressive, and also insane.”

“You have a funny way of saying ‘thank you’, Berkshire.” You tutted, and he only grinned. Dipping down, he kissed your cheek now, coming to a stop beside your table.

“Thank you, for saving me back there.”

“Well, you seemed like you needed a save.” You shrugged, his arm still looped around your waist, hand on your lower back, rubbing lightly as he looked around the room.

“You don’t have an actual date, right?” Leaning in, his breath brushed your ear, and you shuddered at the feel, “Because there’s a guy over there glaring at me like I kicked his dog.”

His fingers touched your cheek, guiding your gaze to casually follow where he had been looking. As your eyes fixed on the man on the other side of the dance floor, you hardly concealed a scoff. He wasn’t glaring, so much as staring with curiosity now that you were the one looking. He smoothed a hand up his girlfriend’s leg as she sat beside him engaged in another conversation, not noticing where his attention now lingered.

Turning your gaze away with a heavy sigh, your motions caused you to curl a little further into Enzo, who leant back enough to look down at you. “Is that the dickhead-ex that broke up with you in a letter a few months ago?” He whispered, and you could only nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

Over him, you might be, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You’d suspected for a while he might be cheating, based on how soon he’d moved on, how ingratiated into his social circles she seemed, but this was the first time you’d ever seen her.

She was pretty.

“That would be the one.” You replied, and Enzo only hummed, freeing his other hand from his pocket to tip your face up, an act that was far more intimate than any touch the two of you had ever shared. His thumb smoothed over your cheek, flicking a gaze back to the other side of the room and smirking slightly. “I don’t need to make him jealous, Enz. As much as I appreciate the sentiments, this is unnecessary.

It wasn't needed, but you couldn't deny it felt good. Felt good to be held again, to settle your hands on someone’s chest, to feel his steady heartbeat under your palm as he touched you so tenderly. “I know, but isn’t it nice? To make him see what he let go, to show him how you should’ve been treated. We’re stuck together all night anyway, might as well make it count for you too.”

“Why is it that we’re stuck together?” You murmured, scowling a little at his choice of words, even more so when he only chuckled. You both knew he didn’t mean it like that, but it felt better to channel a little bitterness than let in the hurt.

“My parents now believe we’re a couple. Your heroic act of saving me now has consequences.” He clicked his tongue, his hand smoothing down to your neck, thumb under your chin to force you to look up at him.

“I figured you’d sneak away to see the other boys once I got you out.”

“And abandon my doting girlfriend who comes to my rescue?” He gasped dramatically, shaking his head, and a small laugh fell from your lips. “I would never. So, what do you say? I’m in your debt, let me be your real date for the night. I promise I’m a fun date.”

“You don’t have to beg, Lorenzo. I’ll let you be my date.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen me beg yet.” He smirked, a wicked look glinting in his eye, before he stepped back from you. Slipping the hand from your waist to slip into your own, he grasped tightly. “How about we go and get a drink?”

“I have a drink.”

“A real drink. I hate champagne, and I know you do too.” He cringed at the sight of your half-drunk glass, and didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to lead you both through the party and towards the bar.

Settling in together, he pulled out a stool for you, tapping at the surface of it for you to sit on. When you shifted towards it, his hands settled on your waist, boosting you up to sit on it, and winking at the surprised sound that slipped free.

He flagged down the bartender with a quick wave, before stepping in closer to your side, his hand finding a home on your lower back once again. Your spine was stiff, and you tried to convince yourself to relax, mumbling your drink order to the waitress as she passed by and took them both.

Leaning back into his touch, he responded in kind, hand rubbing up and down your back softly, and turning to face you. Twisting your body on the stool, your knee bumped into his thigh, and your hand dropped to sit over the top of his on the bar before you.

“So, didn’t expect your parents to be pushing your impending marriage so hard.” You murmured, tracing a finger over the prominent veins and marks in his hand, along each finger, all the way to the tips until they twitched, before returning to the back of his hand. On one finger sat a prominent family ring, the Slytherin ring on his thumb, and a couple of varied bands stacked amongst the others. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I’m far too young to be considering marriage. I haven’t seen the world yet, I’ve never been in love. Not— Not that soul-shredding, intense kind of love. I want to experience that at least once. I want to pick my own wife.” He shook his head, casting you a downtrodden look, a pout on his lips. “Doesn’t seem like that’ll be in the playing cards for me.”

“You could always leave. After we graduate, we get to leave. Maybe you should just… run.”

He only raised a brow at you, shaking his head slightly. It was a stupid suggestion, really. There wasn’t a place he could go that he wouldn't be followed by the reputation of his family, of his magical status. Unless he were to give it all up, disappear as a muggle, and spend the rest of his life feeling like he’d chopped off a limb, or had a vital organ removed.

“Sorry. Dumb thing to say.”

“No, it was sweet. You were just trying to be comforting.” He whispered, and the drinks were placed down before you both. Pushing your drink to you with two fingers, you tapped them together gently, glass clinking, before taking a sip of your cocktail. “I might milk this little situation you’ve gotten us into for a while, though. Let my parents believe I’m courting you back at Hogwarts, and when we call it quits, I’ll be heartbroken. I’ll tell them I need time to get over you.”

Shaking your head with a small laugh, the sound brought a smile to his face.

“I’ll milk that one too. I reckon I can buy myself… at least a year, all in all.”

“Only a year, is that all my fictional love is worth?” You raised a hand to your chest, and he stepped even closer, playing into the act as his arm tightened around your waist.

“You’re right. You're the one. When you leave me, I’ll be devastated. I’ll never get over it. You’ll be my one that got away.” He gave a heavy sigh, a groan at the end of it, slumping slightly into the bar and only increasing his dramatics as you giggled. “Don’t leave me, I’ll be better! I’ll buy you more flowers, I’ll stop sleeping with my secretary!”

You were gathering odd looks at his declaration, an older couple behind you tittering disapprovingly but you didn’t care. Not as he straightened back up, standing closer to you still, and smiling at you so widely. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your features, and you sipped at the cold alcohol in your glass, fingers raising to your cheeks to hide the blush.

“Truly, though. Thank you. That was sweet of you, you didn’t have to step in for me.”

“I know, but you’re my friend. One of my best friends. I know you’d help me out in a pinch, too.” Your hand fell back to his, toying with the house ring on his thumb, and he twisted his hand to give you better access. Such a small gesture, but you appreciated it nonetheless, as he fed into your anxious habits with no extra thought, your chest flooding with warmth and gratitude for him.

“I would, but, my parents are more than just a pinch. You were brave, my mum likes to pride herself on being intimidating.”

“She doesn’t have to like me, but I knew she wouldn't hurt me.” He raised his brows, silently questioning, and you looked at his hand. Unfolding his loose fist, you laced your fingers through his. “You were there with me. I knew she wouldn't hurt me.”

His hand tightened around yours, and his throat bobbed slightly. Lifting your raised hands, he kissed your knuckles softly. Instead of finding words to respond, he used gestures, his eyes fixed on yours as everything that needed to be said shone in them. He wasn’t his parents you saw him for that and trusted him. This was real, it wasn’t just for show, and when he moved his lips from your skin, you cupped his cheek with your other hand.

“I know you’re good, Enzo.” You whispered, a fragile tone for just him to hear over the music, and his smile wobbled from flirty to heartfelt. “You’ve been my friend for so long now, I feel pretty confident in saying I know who you are.”

“Thank you.” His words came on a rushed sigh, and you swiped your thumb across his cheekbone one final time, before pulling away to clasp your drink and take a sip. He kept a tight grip on your other hand, though, clasping it to his chest momentarily, before resting your joined hands back on the bar. “So, what have I got to do to get you to dance with me out there?”

“Oh, no. I don’t dance at these things.” You shook your head quickly, and his grin only stretched at that prospect. At the look on his face, you waved a finger at him. “I have never danced at one of these things before. You aren’t the first guy to ask. I. Don’t. Dance.”

“I say you can.” He snickered, humming a fragment of the song as your eyes rolled. Leaning in a little closer to him, his wicked, flirty smile was back. Your nose brushed his.

“Not a chance.”

He seemed to accept the challenge, finishing off the whiskey that was in his glass. He wasn’t giving up, and you knew for certain that once Enzo set his mind to something, he achieved it. He waved to the bartender again, ignoring her flirty smile as he placed his order with two fingers raised, “Can I get two shots of tequila, please?”

“Make it four.” You muttered, and his eyes sparkled as he corrected himself. Finishing off your own drink, you pushed the empty glass toward his own, nothing but an overly saturated berry left in the bottom. “How’d you know tequila is my go-to for shots?”

“Because, my darling, I am observant. In fourth year, you legitimately gagged when we gave you Sambuca to try and you refuse to touch it even to this day, you say vodka tastes like nail polish, and you never drink whiskey or rum. And, only a psychopath would shoot gin.” His nose scrunched up, and four shot glasses were soon placed down before you, each one being filled up, a few droplets escaping to the bar. A dish of salt and limes followed, and you awed silently over it as he wiggled his brows.

“Fancy, we get the fruit, too.”

“Always impressive these days, every family trying to one-up each other with parties.” He handed you your first shot, clinking your glasses together and spilling some of the sticky amber liquid onto your fingertips. Sprinkling salt on your hand, he winked, “Cheers.”

Licking the salt from his own fingertips, you copied, licking the substance from the back of your hand. Quickly, you did your first shot, then the next, and before you could even reach for one, Enzo was pushing a slice of lime between your lips. He’d surely smudged your lipstick, and juice was now running down your chin, but he caught it with a quick swipe of his thumb, grinning around the citrus in his mouth as he sucked it dry, and winced.

Pulling the lime out from between your teeth, laughter soon spilt over in its place, and you left the half-drained slice in one of the empty glasses. Licking the tips of your fingers for the remaining tequila, Enzo watched, eyes a little foggy, as you cleaned up. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why?” You muttered, and he leaned in again, invading your space as the woodsy smell of his cologne overpowered you, making you want to press your face into his neck. Instead, you held his gaze, with bated breath.

“Because it’s hot. And I’m only so strong.”

“Are you flirting with me, Enz?” You smirked, watching as he offered you his hand. Taking it, you hopped down from the bar stool, waiting for the effects of the shots to kick in, ready to welcome the numbing buzz they’d carry.

“Most definitely. You like it?”

“I do, actually.”

Linking your arm through his own as he led you slowly to the dance floor, he patted your hand on his bicep. “You could try to sound less shocked by that. I’m great at flirting.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen you put it into use before. That pretty smile, a few sweet words and a wink, you normally have women falling at your feet.”

As you reached the edge of the floor, he turned to face you, settling a hand on your hip, and tugging you in closer than needed. “But not you? Because you’re different to other girls.”

“Oh, no. I’m just like other girls. And it would work on me too, if I didn’t know you so well. Unfortunately, I’ve watched you throw up in your own shoe and eat food off the floor. You’ll have to work a little harder to get me.” Pinching your fingers between your faces to show a gap, he watched, before taking that hand and placing it on his shoulder, smoothly.

“I love a good challenge.”

With that, he was sweeping you across the floor, your shocked laughter breaking free as he spun you suddenly into the madness of the dance floor. Perfected routines and perfect dances, and even in your addled mind, the steps began to come back to you. You’d always thought that there was something so eerie about the dances, the melancholic music that played, always building to a crashing crescendo.

It felt like music with a tragic tale, spinning and dipping and dancing, like a Shakespeare play given music instead of words. Rows of perfectly organised dancers, all moving in perfect sync and harmony.

Luckily, tonight, that structure seemed to have fallen apart a little. Various levels of dancing skills were taking place. Some were just swaying, others were performing flips and spins that made you dizzy, as you and Enzo settled somewhere in the middle. His hand tight on your waist, the other clasping your own, he spun you between people, guiding you towards the centre of the floor.

“I thought you said you didn’t dance!”

“I don’t, that doesn’t mean I can’t. My mother had me in lessons three times a week as a child. I am an excellent dancer.” Glancing around, it was mercifully informal tonight, not the regimented performances it sometimes could be. “This whole… thing. It just creeps me out sometimes.”

“When they all dance in perfect, synchronised lines, like some kind of terrifying ballet performance?” He muttered, smiling and nodding as you wove past an older couple.

“Yes!”

“I get you,” He hummed, shuddering a little. Ahead of you both, Draco was spinning a smiling Astoria, and he looked utterly exhausted by this point. She didn’t seem ready to stop dancing any time soon, though.

As he spun you back in, your arm wrapped around his neck this time, holding yourself closer to him and calming the crazy dance he’d drawn you into. He was smiling himself, cheeks flushed from the exertion, and as you began to move into a slower sway, his cheek came to rest against the top of your head.

“You ever dance at one of these parties with your ex?”

“I told you, I don’t dance.” You mumble, the arm around his neck sliding, hand slipping to brush lightly at the hair on the base of his neck. He stretched his head a little further, leaning into the touch with a soft sigh.

“You didn’t dance,” He corrected cheekily, pinching at your hip, and your eyes rolled upwards at his pedantic behaviour. “Your ex is watching us.”

“I told you, I don’t care.”

He made a vague noise before turning you subtly, so that you could see him now. The displeased look on his face, the narrowed eyes as he watched you and Enzo, and the way he turned in a flustered rush once he realised you’d caught him. “You may not care, but I’m getting a sick sort of satisfaction from it. I had to watch you hurt over him, even when you tried to pretend you weren’t. The way your face fell that day in the hall when you opened that letter, I’ll never forget it.”

“Enz…” Your whisper is barely audible, his own words mumbled by your ear so low they were barely decipherable. Goosebumps still rose along your skin at the snarl he made, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he shook his head.

Dipping down, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, so tender and loving that you felt your heart skip in your chest. “He’s a dick, and I wish I could do a lot more to him than just pork a few holes in his ego tonight. He deserves a right kicking.”

“I was over him long before that letter came. The distance had been growing.”

“Maybe so, but he’s still a prick.” Turning you around and around in slow circles, you gained and lost sight repeatedly each scene just a little different from the last. He was putting on a show, that was for sure, as Enzo took you for turns around the dance floor. One moment he had his new girlfriend in a passionate kiss, the next she was laughing as she stared up at him, the next, whispering sweet words in her ear.

If you could see it, you were sure Enzo could too, his grip tightening on you protectively. Leaning up, you returned the affection, pulling his focus back to you as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go get another drink, yeah? I could use some hydration after all this dancing.”

He looked right through you, like he knew it was a distraction, and yet he nodded anyway, jaw clenched. This time, you took one of his hands in both of yours, leading him through the crowd as his fingers clutched your own.

Settling at the bar, you called for two waters, before turning your gaze back to him.

“Wish I could just push them both in the fireplace, and watch them burn.”

His words made your eyes widen slightly, and you pressed a glass into his hand the moment they arrived, encouraging him to drink. “Enzo, why are you so bothered about this all of a sudden?”

“Because— Because I can see him now! And he’s a jackass, and I’m already mad enough about my parents, and the fact it’s this stupid day. I need something to channel my anger into, and he’s a mighty good conduit.” He took another swig of his drink, jaw clenching as he slammed the empty glass down and licked his lips.

Placing a finger on his chin, you twisted his head to you, and he softened slightly as he looked. “Not a fan of New Year's, huh?”

“Not a fan of the holidays in general. Especially once I have to go home.” Your heart clenched for him. The expression on your face must’ve given you away, because he soon shrugged. “I used to love the holiday period, but nowadays, all my parents do is get at me. Plus, being single at Christmas sucks, y’know? Since when was this time all about love? I thought it was supposed to be about generosity and love and whatever. Now it’s all about couples.”

Your jaw dropped a little, and his brows furrowed.

“What?”

Enzo had just echoed the exact sentiments you’d been thinking about only a couple of hours ago, and a breathless laugh escaped you as you shook your head. At least he understood you. “Nothing. Just, I was thinking the same thing, earlier.”

“Great minds.” He whispered, shaking a little tension out of his body and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the fire was dulled, sweet sparkle back, and he loosed a heavy breath. “Sorry. That got heavy.”

“I’m always here for you to talk, Enz.”

He smiled, eyes closing again as he rested his forehead on yours, tugging you in with arms around your waist for a hug. His face moved, chin hooking over your shoulder, with a kiss pressed there as he did, which sent your pulse skyrocketing at the feel of his lips on your skin. “I love you, you know that, right? You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“Love you too, Enzo…” You murmured, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled away, a shy smile on his face, and he nudged your glass to you this time.

“Drink up. I want to get you back out on that dance floor. I take pride in knowing I’m the only man you’ll dance with.”

“Because you’re the most insistent man I’ve ever met. I know that if I said no, you’d only spend the whole night bugging me.”

“It’s charming how well you know me.” He teased, and your eyes rolled, resulting in a soft slap to the outside of your thigh as he tutted at you, mumbling about your attitude. “Oh, incoming.”

“Who—” You barely got the word out before an arm was slung over your shoulder, a heavy weight following as they leaned on you. Mattheo beamed at you lazily when you turned your head to see. Theo soon followed, shuffling his feet a little, and rubbing at his eyes. The second he saw the half-drunk glass of water in your hands, he lunged for it, managing to get the whole thing down in one go, without evening coming up for breath. “Jeez, how baked are you two?”

“Theo brought some good shit this time,” Mattheo murmured, kissing his fingers and waving them to the air, and Theo gave a delayed scoff after a couple of seconds.

“I always bring good shit.”

“Agree to disagree.” Mattheo smiled, bopping his friend on the nose, as Enzo only laughed.

“So, that’s where you two have been, huh? Outside smoking all night.”

“Not all night,” Theo smirked, waggling his brows as he produced his phone from his back pocket. “I spent a good deal of time flirting. I got six girls’ numbers, and Matt here only got four.”

He set off snickering as Mattheo only grumbled, and the moment he loosened his hold on you, you slipped free so he could lean against the bar instead. You didn’t get far, not before Enzo was snaking an arm around you, and tugging you into his chest. Theo might have been higher than a kite, but he didn’t miss the way Enzo’s touches trailed over your back, settling low on your spine. He smirked, eyes glinting when Enzo dropped an absentminded kiss to the top of your head.

“So, what’s new with you two?”

“We’re dating now.” Enzo beamed, and Mattheo spluttered over his drinks order, the bartender wandering way as Mattheo turned to face you, and Theo’s jaw dropped. “Or, at least, that’s what we’re letting my parents believe, so they’ll hop off my dick about marrying some stranger.”

You pat his chest for his use of words, and he shrugged. Finally, Draco seemed to have persuaded Astoria to let him go. She was now happily dancing with her sister, as Draco stumbled over to your group at the bar, and collapsed down onto a free stool.

“That girl has more energy than a toddler on crack.”

“Interesting metaphor.” You said, and Draco only patted his chest, sticking an extra glass of water and a whiskey onto Mattheo’s order as he tried to get a drink once again. Turning his gaze back to you, those grey eyes slid from head to toe, a pale brow raising.

“What’s with you two?”

“Haven’t you heard, Dray?” Theo mused, “They’re dating.”

He had a similar reaction to the other two, equally as entertaining until the news was broken, and you hid your laughter in Enzo’s shoulder. He was smiling, hiding his own amusement in your hair, his fingers playing with the tips as the strands spilt down your back.

The night went on much the same, hours blurring by as more friends came and went, joining you in the group, before being pulled away. For a while, you sat on the stool beside Enzo, listening to Mattheo retell the story of their competition to get numbers.

You let Enzo pull you onto the dance floor again, and even Mattheo, who swung you off-beat and out of sync to a song in his head, certainly not the one being played, but it made you laugh until your stomach hurt, so it was worth it. You danced with the girls too, and exchanged gossip in hushed whispers as you moved across the checkered floor.

It always ended with you stumbling back to Enzo, progressively building more of a buzz as the night went on, falling back into the security of his arms. And he was always there, smiling, tucking hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead as he asked you whether you were having fun. For the first time in a long time at one of these events, you could say yes.

Only as the hour was finally approaching midnight, less than fifteen minutes to go, did you all leave. Mattheo ordered several bottles of champagne, gathering two in his hands and passing two more to Theo. Then, he was commanding you all to follow him, and marching away without another word.

You shared a look with Enzo, before hopping down, following after him with an equally puzzled group. Your hand found Enzo’s quickly, a comfortable act that had become familiar far too quickly, but just for tonight, you didn’t care. Not as Mattheo led you down all and corridors, away from all the noise.

Not as he led you all up, until you were exiting onto the roof. Below you, chatter filled the courtyard as the party guests began to file out onto the patio, ready to witness the fireworks. The view would be uninterrupted from here, a perfect view of it all, and a contented sound left your lips.

Staring up at the night sky, stars twinkled in the cold void, and you rubbed one arm lightly as you stared into the vast openness. Only a second later, a jacket was slipping over your shoulders, and Enzo was turning you to him, guiding your arms through each of the sleeves, bashfully.

“Told you I was a good date.” He winked, hand on your back as you followed the rest of your friends to sit down.

“You said you were a fun date,”

“Well then, I’m a good and fun date.” He effectively ended the conversation with a kiss to your cheek, hand sliding dangerously low on your back as you gathered with the others. A couple of benches and boxes were up here, stacks of pallets for makeshift seating, and you settled onto one, Enzo following you down.

Once you were sat, he pulled you in, tucking you into the heat of his side, and you curled in closer, twisting to face him. “Tonight has been… wonderful. Thank you.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you.” He whispered, nose brushing your hairline as the words were whispered onto your skin. “Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve ever had, and I never thought I’d say that about one of these parties.”

You fiddled with the edge of the sleeves hanging over your palms, grinning at him. Your head fell to his shoulder, and your gaze moved to scan over your friends. Draco and Astoria were cuddling equally as sweetly, as were Blaise and Daphne. Luna and Pansy were nowhere to be seen, but Tom and Reggie stood at the edge of the roof, talking quietly. Mattheo and Theo were bent over laughing, trying to pop the corks on the bottles, and almost taking out each other’s eyes each time.

When a bottle was passed to you and Enzo, fizzing over the top and foaming on the wooden palette you perched on, you took a sip. The bitter liquid fizzed on your tongue just as the countdown began to sound from all of the people below.

“Ten, nine, eight…” Mattheo screamed, arms held up in the air with his excitement.

“Seven, six, five…” You murmured, sitting up straighter as the anticipation of the new year came in.

“Four, three, two…” Enzo joined you, your face turning to smile at him as you heard his voice mix with yours.

“One.” You spoke, just as Enzo leaned in. His lips closed over your own, warm and spicy from the lingering remnants of firewhiskey, and you groaned against his mouth. As you did, his hand slipped up to your cheek, angling your head just right as his tongue slid into your mouth.

He kissed slow, and deep, like he had all the time in the world to be here. You were gripping his shoulder, kissing back with just as much passion, sliding closer to him until there was no space between your body and his. Your thigh pressed to his own, his hand on your cheek slipping into your hair as he pulled back for a breath, just to dive right back in.

And you loved it, leaning forward, chasing his lips, kissing him until you couldn’t think straight, couldn't think at all, unless it was about him.

Finally, he pulled back, to the cheering and celebrating of your friends as the New Year rolled in. Fireworks began to explode behind you, and you sighed, breath clouding in the night air and floating up to the sky. Licking the taste of him from your lip as you panted, his nose bumped your own.

“What was that for?” You mumbled, the way he kissed you still playing over and over again in your mind like a loop.

“Because when we go back,” He stole another kiss, your lips stretching in a smile as his palm engulfed your cheek. “I’d love to take you on a real date.”

You’d never looked at him like this before, never let yourself consider what it would be like to date Enzo. That urge had never arisen, everything between you both had always been platonic, he was one of your best friends. Now, as those pretty eyes opened up to stare at you, he was anything but platonic.

He was pretty, in a way you’d acknowledged but never appreciated before. Loyal in a best friend way, but would doubtless be a wonderful boyfriend. He was doting, and kind, and sweet. He was cheeky and funny and caring. He was here, and interested, and if tonight had proven anything, it was your compatibility.

You and Enzo worked well together, you made a great couple, and for the first time ever, he was staring at you in a way that made you think he wanted to take your clothes off. And you liked it.

The choice seemed clear.

“I’d like that too, Enzo.”

#lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire/reader #lorenzo berkshire/you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire/reader #enzo berkshire/you #harry potter #HP #slytherin boys #louis partridge

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forzalando · 5 months

Note

hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!

second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk

Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.

Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.

Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.

It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.

At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.

“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”

“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”

“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.

You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”

His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.

“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.

“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.

It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”

“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”

“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.

“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”

Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”

You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.

Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.

“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”

He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.

“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”

“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”

Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.

He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.

“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.

“Sure, Y/N.”

“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”

Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.

“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”

“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”

Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.

Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.

You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”

You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?

When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.

While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.

You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.

“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”

“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’ boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”

Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.

You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.

“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”

Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns – like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”

When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.

He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.

“Max, I’m not – ”

He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”

You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.

Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.

The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.

“It’s morning,” you whispered.

“It is.”

“It’s morning and I still love you.”

He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.

You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.

“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”

“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #forzalando blurb #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months

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bartender!harry x you

your favorite bartender names a drink for you, and you're almost convinced its the end of the world, until your heart leads you back to him.

featuring: soft!harry, an apology, and a cat named Sylvester.

tw: 18+!!, mentions drinking, angst, lots and lots of fluff, soft smut, small itty bitty breeding kink if u squint really hard.

wc: 5k

marigold

A typical Saturday night for you looked like this:

One too many whiskey shots, karaoke with your friends, and passed out on the way home in the uber someone ordered.

This Saturday wasn’t any different so far.

You had just gotten off the stage, out of breath from singing Strawberry Wine a little too loudly with your friends. You wove your way through crowds of sweaty bodies and made your way to the bar in the back.

And there he was. Your favorite person on earth.

The bartender.

It wasn’t because he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, or the fact that he listened to you whenever you were spiraling wistfully through your drunken thoughts.

It mostly just came down to the fact that he made really good drinks.

Harry knew exactly how you liked your whiskey, at what point in the night you’d want a margarita to cool off with (usually after the karaoke), and he knew when to cut you off before you regretted it the next morning.

So when you stumbled over to the bar looking for his signature smirk, he was already sliding the glass across the lacquered surface, placing a lime on the rim once you settled yourself on the barstool across from him. He went back to washing glasses, biceps flexing and relaxing between motions under the sleeves of his black tee as you sip on your drink.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, keeping you within earshot while some prick named Garret flirts with you. It almost hurt his feelings when he didn’t hear you rejecting his embarrassingly cheesy advances. He knew he could treat you better than any other asshole in this place, so it always surprised him when you would leave with one of them. He just wanted you to be safe, and he knew that the men that frequented his bar weren’t some of the finest to grace your presence. He would try his hand at flirting with you, tell you how nice you looked, and use his pick up lines that worked with so many others.

But they never worked on you...or so he thought.

You were an enigma to him, a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“Leave me alone, Garret. I’m not leaving with you tonight.” He heard you mumble, however, Garret was persistent. He glances over out of the corner of his eye and sees that Garret has you cornered in your seat, his arm around the back of your chair and the other steadied on the bar as he leaned into you. You were trying to create space, but he was practically pushing you up against the wall and Harry didn’t like that. He threw the towel over his shoulder and turned to face the situation.

“Garret, she said she wasn’t leaving with you. I suggest you get lost, unless you want to be barred from my establishment.” He says calmly, but firm. He leans his weight into his own arms placed on the bar, muscles flexing and veins popping, cocking an eyebrow upwards as he watches Garret intently. Harry's eyes never leave Garret as his flick between the two of you. He mumbles expletives under his breath before pushing from the bar and stumbling away. Harry hears you breathe out a sigh you had been holding in and when his eyes meet yours you smile.

“Thanks. He’s relentless.” You pause. “Sometimes I go home with him so he’ll just leave me alone.” You confess and he’s never heard you say anything like this before, he's not even sure you understood what you implied. Instead of replying immediately, he listens. Listens to you ramble about Garret and every other guy that attempts to win you over with their drunken pick up lines. He was scrubbing a glass, lost in his thoughts, thinking how it would look to have you upstairs in his apartment, dancing around the kitchen with each other when you clear your throat, plucking him from his daydreams.

“I asked you a question, Har.” You giggle as you sip through the straw in your glass.

“Sorry, flower. I was a little distracted.” He peeks over, smirking. “What did you ask?” “I asked if there was anyone special in your life.” Curiosity getting the better of you, because he always listens to what you have to say and you're tired of talking about yourself. He'd never talked about a girlfriend before and you're not sure how someone as beautiful as him could be single.

“If you count my cat, Sylvester. Otherwise, no.” He informs you and you widen your eyes.

“You have a cat?” Your words slur together in disbelief and he nods.

“Does that surprise you?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Just don’t strike me as the cat type.” You pause, thoughts swirling through your head. “I want to meet him.”

“I promise you don’t. He’s a terrorist.” He jokes, laughing between his words. “I found him outside under the dumpster when he was just a baby…I haven’t known peace for a single day since.” He says in a serious tone and it makes you laugh. He brings down bottles of liquor and mixes and juices from the shelf above his head and mixes up concoctions, tasting them before pouring them out. To you, it seems like a waste. You let him go on for a while longer before you decide to interrupt.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Just been working on a new signature to add to the menu. Can’t get the ratio quite right though.” He mutters and you watch as his hands move expertly around the bottles, mixing exact ratios without having to measure them out.

You chat for a while longer, enjoying his company until your friends find you and they’re ready to leave. You tell him goodbye and he watches you until you disappear out the door, wishing he had the guts to tell you how he feels outright instead of dancing around the topic, and how he only has eyes for you every time you come in here.

You’re the sole reason why he works on Saturdays.

He’ll never forget the first time he saw you at his bar. He was upstairs in his apartment reading when he looked at the clock and noticed it was nearing closing time, an hour or so left until the straggling patrons would be forced out and he knew that last-call had already been announced. He went down to see if the bartender working needed help with anything before he turned in for the night, and when he stepped in he saw you laughing with your friends at a high top table.

It was over for him then.

He hung around for the next hour, nursing a draft in a glass he poured himself and fighting the sleep begging to take over his body. Your group wasn’t paying attention when all the lights came on, brightening the dimmed room, you didn’t notice you were the last ones here and if he was waiting for an excuse to talk to you…that was it. He made his way to you, weaving through chairs and tables and when you looked at him, finally, he almost lost the words he wanted to say. Stuttering over them, he felt embarrassed as you smiled at him and you and your friends hopped from your stools and left, but not before he mustered the courage to ask you if you were coming back anytime soon and you nodded, informing him that you and your friends had been coming every Saturday for a few months now, his bar quickly had become their favorite spot. He felt guilty that he hadn’t paid attention before, but he made sure he was the one behind the bar every Saturday since then.

Now, here you were. Walking out laughing with your friends, like you did every Saturday, without a second look back at him…even though he willed it to happen every time.

Yet, he couldn’t wait until next week to do it over again.

Next Saturday comes and it’s unfamiliar territory for you this time. It was your turn to be the designated driver, you and your friends trying not to pay excessive amounts for rideshares anymore. While your friends make their way to a table, you detour to the bar and when your eyes meet Harry's, his hardened expression turns to something lighter as you approach. He’s smiling, a toothy grin that has you biting the inside of your cheek and looking at the floor.

Maybe it was the lighting…or maybe it was the idea of him. You had never really seen him while you were in a sober mindset and this was a different dynamic. He knew the drunk you, the one who was confident and not afraid of anything.

Truth be told, you were a little nervous to talk to him. He always pushed shots towards you when you walked in, and you were grateful for the confidence boost it gave you because otherwise you didn’t think you’d even approach him.

But it’s hard to remind yourself that you don’t need to be nervous, it’s just Harry.

“There’s my flower.” He greets you with the nickname he penned for you after a few weeks of chatting and getting to know you. He pushes the shot towards you but you shake your head as you hop up onto the bar stool and he cocks an eyebrow at you, confused at your refusal. “Are you sick? Do I need to take you to the ER?” He jokes and you laugh.

“No, actually. I’m just taking on the role of designated driver tonight.” You rest your chin in your hand and sigh. He replaces the whiskey with a glass of ice water feigning hesitation, mouthing a “sorry” as he moves down the bar to take other orders.

He’s busy for a while so you sit and watch him sling drinks and pour drafts. He’s comfortable, he’s confident, and you feel a sense of longing for him, willing him to come back over and talk with you…and you wonder why you’d never accepted his advances before. It could be that you were scared, not thinking he was serious and that he was just being a friendly bartender. You were always drunk and the alcohol clouded your judgment slightly.

But you always knew when he was flirting. He would clear your tab, and you would walk out paying literally nothing more often than not. He wouldn’t even let you tip him because he refused to take your money and he insisted that he made enough.

As if he could read your mind, he came back over and was breathing heavily out of breath from trying to keep up, the amount of people in the bar nearing capacity. Still, he smiles at you and as he’s catching his composure he grabs bottles from the shelf above him.

“Remember that drink I was making last week?” He asks and you search your memory to pinpoint the moment he was talking about. You faintly recall him mixing drinks and tasting them before dumping them down the drain, so you nod. “I think I finally got it right.” He says while pouring the concoction, placing it in your view once it was complete, then he perches an orange on the rim and slides it towards you.

“I said I wasn’t drinking.” You joke, knowing a sip won't be enough to have you feeling any effects, bringing the glass up to your nose and sniffing, the scent of citrus and schnapps filling your nostrils and when you sip, there’s a hint of something floral that you can’t quite place. It’s perfectly layered, the orange fading into yellow seamlessly like a sunrise left unblemished in a cloudless sky, shimmering just slightly in the low lit atmosphere.

And it’s so good.

“Do you like it?” He asks, waiting for your response and shifting his weight nervously. He needed it to be perfect for you…because it was for you. You nod, swallowing and meeting his eyes.

“It’s delicious. What are you calling it?” You ask and the corner of his mouth pulls up in a half grin.

“I think I’m going to call it a Marigold Sunrise.” He says, the volume of his voice almost getting lost in the chatter around you both and you could’ve sworn you misheard him.

“I’m sorry?” You almost choke, sputtering over your words. “Marigold?” “Yeah, actually. I remember one night you told me they were your favorite. I added the floral notes, I think that’s what it was missing. It's yours. I made it for you.”

Your head spins momentarily at his words. He remembered? You were sure that conversation happened over a year ago. You stare at him, blinking with a blank expression painted over your face. You don’t know how to react. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a drink.

Except your mind convinces you this makes things more complicated than they need to be. He’s just the bartender at the bar you frequent, this meant you were going to have to find somewhere else to go, because you couldn’t actually spend your time here anymore knowing he probably expects you to give him something in return.

But he’s not just a bartender. He’s Harry. The reason why you come here. The reason why your friends tease you incessantly on the way home every Saturday…because you’re always watching him when he isn’t looking, slotting yourself behind the bar with him in your doe-eyed daydreams. Daydreams you thought would never come to fruition.

“Harry, this is…too much.” The words tumble from your lips before you really think about them. His brows pull together, confusion lacing his eyes.

“What? I thought—” “Whatever you thought, save it. I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.” Your tone is harsher than you wanted it to be. You push the glass away and gather your things, walking away from him without so much as a glance back. You find your friends, apologizing for ruining their fun but that you would take them somewhere else, wanting to be anywhere but here.

Harry stands behind the bar, dumbfounded and lost on what he did wrong. He watches you leave, holding the door for your friends. Your head moves slightly, and he can just make out the outline of your profile. He thinks you’re going to look back at him, come back and explain to him what he did to make you react this way.

But you don’t.

This time he doesn’t know if you’ll come back.

The street was quiet and the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, blue hue taking over the dark of the night. The bar was dark except for the light left on behind the bar and the neon hanging on the walls. He might even already be in bed. After you left earlier, your friends requested a bar on the other side of town and you drove them there on autopilot, sitting at a table staring blankly at the wall, the sounds around you muffled from lack of focus on your part. When they were ready to leave, you got them home safely and aimlessly drove around with no destination in mind. You let your mind wander, and after you finally placed your feelings you found you had subconsciously made your way back to him, back to the bar. Like your heart was making your decision without you even realizing. Like it knew where you needed to be.

So you forced yourself out of the driver's seat and timidly made your way to the door. You didn’t know if he would be able to hear you, but you knocked on the glass of the front door anyway. You hug yourself around your torso, the chill of the night air making you shiver slightly. After a moment you’re about to give up, but you see him come around the corner and his eyes widen at the sight of you, his expression reading that he very much was not expecting you to show up at this time, or even at all. The bar closed at 3:00 AM and it was nearing 5 as you stood there waiting for him to open the door.

“Come in, it’s freezing out there.” He says as the barrier between you swings open, the bell above ringing in your ears. You step inside, finding reprieve in the warmth of the bar. You watch him in the afterglow of the neon. It feels out of place, being here in the early hours of the morning, neither of you having had any sleep yet and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. You look towards the floor, fiddling with your fingers and you feel terrible that you’re keeping him from sleep, which you’re sure he’d rather be doing after the way you left him earlier.

“I’m sorry, I’m interrupting your rest. I should just go, I don’t know why I came.” You say sheepishly, gesturing a thumb towards the door and you almost turn around before he grabs your arm before you get the chance.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here. I was almost asleep.” He yawns, stretching his arms over his head and you shake your head.

“This can wait, really. I’ll let you go back to—”

“Flower, I said it was okay. I want you here.” His eyes search yours for a moment before he looks away, towards the stairs that lead up to his apartment. “Do you want to come up? I’ll get you some water.” He nods his head behind him and you nod wordlessly, following him as he takes you to a peek inside of his personality. You stay silent as he grabs a glass from his cupboard and moves through the small kitchen. You allow your eyes to wander around his space, and it’s not anything like you were expecting. You would never think a bar owner lives here, and if you had to describe it, it would be something like a masculine dark academia with a modern twist throughout the interior. He sits the glass in front of you before leaning against the opposite counter and you feel your nerves bubble in your throat when you remember why you’re here.

“Harry…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away like that earlier. I really am flattered that you made your new signature something for me.” You pause, collecting your thoughts for a second before speaking again. “I’ve just never had anyone make anything for me before, I’ve never had some grand gesture done for me.” You motion with your hands, ultimately letting them fall against your lap again. “I know it sounds silly, and that might not be grand to any normal person, but I got scared…” Trailing off, you look down at your hands in your lap. “I don’t even know why I got scared. I really like you, and I don’t want to scare you away.”

The silence is deafening, the clock ticking on the wall counting the seconds as dawn creeps into the sky. You think he isn’t going to say anything.

Then he clears his throat.

“You could never scare me away.” You force your eyes to meet his. He comes around the counter, closing the space between you slightly. He stands in front of you, searching your face for anything he can find, as if he’s memorizing every freckle, the dip of your nose, the pink of your lips, everything he never wants to forget. “I want you…all of you. Everything you’re afraid of. Every good, every bad, everything in between. I want it all.” He steps forward and takes your hands between his, bringing them to his lips and kissing over your palm once. Resting his cheek against it, you cup his face, tilting your head slightly and biting the inside of your lip to keep your emotions at bay.

You’re both silent for a beat, conveying feelings through subtle glances ghosting over each other's features. You’d never seen him this close before.

He’s right here.

And he’s yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper and you nod once, slightly sucking in a breath, preparing for him to surge forward. He shocks you when he doesn’t.

His touch is gentle, featherlight over your jawline and your exhale is shaky, nervous like you’ve never been kissed before.

Your mind wants to wander…wants to get lost down the memory lane of bad lovers and all the times your subconscious thought of him, how it manifested him in your dreams.

His lips brush over yours and pull you from your thoughts. His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer. His tongue darting out to wet his lips before he presses them to yours…and you melt, sighing against him as you fist his shirt. He was hesitant, like he was testing your boundaries.

You wanted him to know you were all in.

He pulls away just far enough to meet your eyes and if he were being honest, he thinks you’ll run from him again.

You’re thinking how the kiss didn’t last nearly long enough.

“Kiss me again. Please.” You whisper, and he doesn’t hesitate, bringing his lips back to yours like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. This kiss is more than the first.

More desire…more eagerness…more everything.

His hands find your hips and pull you closer to him, dancing lightly under the hem of your shirt and your skin burns under his touch as you part your thighs and he slots himself between them. Your arms link around the back of his neck, pulling him closer and arching against him. His hands splayed across your back, feeling his want for you growing between your bodies and it makes your belly flip. Your hands drop from his shoulders, running over the expanse of his biceps and mapping their way to his waistline, dipping below the band of his sweats and palming over the fabric of his briefs eliciting a groan that transfers from his mouth to yours. He pulls your wrists from his body and pulls away from your lips, looking at you with dark eyes and his chest rapidly rising and falling trying to catch his breath.

“We don’t have to—I don’t expect you to sleep with me. I hope you know that I’m not just doing this to get myself off.” He places your hands against his chest, holding them there. “I meant it when I said I want all of you.”

“I know. I want all of you, too.” You whisper and he smiles. “I just want to show you how much.” You fist his shirt again and pull him back down to you. “Please let me.” You mutter against his lips, pecking lightly and he nods. He tugs at your hand, pulling you to a stance from your place at the counter and he leads you into his room.

Once there, he pushes you gently onto the bed and climbs over you planting kisses over the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck pulling a whimper from your mouth and he travels lower. He pushes your shirt up and runs his nose along the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its path before you pull it over your head and throw it across the room. He smiles against you, crawling up and finding your face while peppering small kisses over your cheeks and the tip of your nose. His forehead meets yours and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of having you like this, flower.” He mumbles and you hum, a dopey smile playing on your lips.

His fingers caper down your torso, finding the button of your jeans and flicking it open with a certain expertise. You help him push them off your waist while your lips meet his once more, the naturally sweet taste of his tongue like candy on yours is something you would crave for the rest of your life. He disrobes his own clothes, barely breaking from your lips to pull his shirt over his head and tossing it towards the same general area as yours.

He spreads you open with his fingers, trailing a digit through your arousal and you shudder at his gentle touch. He teases your aching hole, petting over it continuously, drawing a whine from your throat.

“Tell me what you want, angel.” His voice is low, gravelly in the back of his throat. “Already know, just need to hear you say it.”

“You. Just need to feel you.” The intonation in your voice is nothing short of begging, and he’s not wasting time. He doesn’t want to play, doesn’t want to tease any more than he already has—barely has. He’s just as impatient as you are, fisting his cock and pumping once…twice before he drags the tip through to collect you all over him.

The feel of the most intimate part of him against you sends fireworks bursting through your belly. He lines up, pushing himself in and you both release a sigh, something just felt like it was falling into place. Like it was always supposed to be this way.

He halts when he’s fully in, pausing briefly to let you adjust to the stretch. Your hands grip around his biceps, indenting the muscle beneath his skin and he sets his pace…slow and sensual. You can feel it all, a fire igniting in your heart at every grunt and every groan he doesn’t hold back from you. You let your hands wander down the length of his torso, wrapping around his back and leaving the shapes of crescents in his skin. The sensation forces him to drop his head into your chest, licking and kissing down the valley between your tits as you arch your back, wanting him impossibly closer than he already is.

His pace picks up, his hips meeting yours with more fervor than before. Your eyes flutter closed again and he supports his weight above you on one arm. His movements never falter as he wraps one hand around the back of your neck and forces your mouth on his, teeth clashing and his tongue slips in. He moans into your mouth, the sound so sinful that you clench around him.

“Fuck, if you keep squeezing me like that m’not gonna last.” He mutters with a shaky breath. You smirk, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and sucking lightly before letting the plump skin bounce back into place. He chuckles and you push his sweaty curls away from his forehead. You pull him down to you, your mouth just over his ear and you taste the saltiness on his skin as you lick a path up his neck and he swears under his breath.

“Want you to cum for me, Har. Please. Need to feel it. Need you to fill me.” You whine into his ear and he mutters something incoherent.

“Need you to first, flower.” He pants through gritted teeth. His thrusts become hurried. He’s hitting every spot that you need him to, pulling his cock all the way out to the tip before sliding back into you in a way that has you so close, your resolve dancing on the thinnest of tightropes. He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting on his fingers before slotting it between the two of you, petting slow circles over your clit, and you tumble over.

“I’m gonna cum.” You say, your voice fading into a whimper when you feel the familiar burst of pleasure dance down your spine straight to your core. Your walls flutter around him, willing for him to spill inside of you. The stimulation sends him falling from his own cliff, his hips stutter before you feel his cock twitching and the warmth of him painting you and he drops his forehead to your collarbone, riding out his high slowly.

The both of you lay there, catching breaths for a moment while you run your fingers through his hair and down his back and back up again. Your thighs were still wrapped around him, but you let them fall to the bed and he hums as he slides out, laying beside you and tangling his fingers with yours. You turn towards him and smile

Wordlessly, you revel in each other's presence. He traces your jawline with the back of his hand, you poke his cheek with your finger and he laughs. He stands, pulling you with him into the bathroom. He starts the shower, pulling you to his chest and kissing you lazily while the water heats up.

In the shower, he spoils you a bit, washing your hair for you while you lean into his touch, your back pressing against him as he works his fingers on your scalp deliciously. He takes special care of washing over your skin with sudsy soap and if you weren’t so tired you probably would’ve entertained him with round 2 in the shower. Instead, when he rinses you off he sends you on your way and informs you what drawer he keeps his shirts in while he cleans himself.

Clad in an old, washed-out band shirt, you flop onto his bed and under the covers, exhaustion quickly setting in. You hear the water shut off, but not before you feel the mattress sink from some other presence in the room. Your eyes open and see who must be Sylvester coming closer to you and you grin, extending your hand to him and he sniffs before nudging his head against your fingers. He makes a spot beside you, curling his tail around himself as Harry steps from the bathroom.

He dresses himself and joins you, a look of confusion passing over his face in the orange glow of the rising sun filtering in through the window. You mirror it back to him and he laughs.

“He doesn’t even do that with me.” He informs you, gesturing to Sylvester fast asleep by your legs and you smile tiredly. “Now you really can’t leave.” He whispers, planting a kiss to your forehead before finding his own comfort under the duvet.

And lucky for Sylvester, you didn’t plan on going anywhere.

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feeder86 · 1 month

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Breaking Boundaries

“Oh wow! Look at him! He’s gorgeous!” Sam shouted over the deafteningly loud music of the club.

Craig looked over, seeing yet another short, skinny, well-groomed twenty year old dancing away with a couple of other guys. He had no butt on him whatsoever, with narrow shoulders and thin arms; not Craig’s type in the slightest. Not that he would ever say that to his housemates. As close as they all were, he wasn’t so sure that Sam and Wes were ready to hear that not everyone found these boring little twinks so compelling. And they certainly weren’t ready to know that, at twenty years old, Craig was actually still a virgin.

“He’s pretty,” Craig nodded, pretending to be in agreement. “You should go dance with him.”

“I actually think you should go and ask him yourself,” Sam shot back, prodding Craig in the side to get up. “He keeps looking over this way, right in your direction.”

Craig squirmed slightly. He had noticed the guy checking him out, but had deliberately kept it to himself so that he wasn’t forced to get up and dance with yet another person that Sam and Wes thought was hot. “I’m really not…” he protested, despite being pulled to his feet.

“Don’t be so boring!” Wes cried, keen to get them all paired off that evening now that one of his regular fuck buddies had just entered the club and was smiling suggestively across the room at him.

“Alright, alright!” Craig relented, seeing that the boys were not going to let this go. “I’ll just get us some more drinks first,” he explained, using the tactic that usually got him out of situations such as these. Everything moved so fast in clubs like these, apart from the line of people waiting to be served.

Craig’s hypothesis was not wrong. He returned from the bar with three shots, seeing that Wes was nowhere to be seen. As was his usual habit, once Wes had found someone to hook up with, he didn’t bother with the simple courtesy of saying goodbye. Likewise, Sam was up on his feet, dancing with someone in the corner. With their table abandoned, it had been acquired by a new group of people who had just come in.

Downing one shot to save carrying them all, Craig made his way over to the dancefloor to check in with Sam. There, he was stopped by security, not allowing him to take the shots onto the dancefloor. And so, Craig stood, like a stereotypical third wheel, watching as Sam’s flirtatious dancing led to dirty grinding and the inevitable, passionate kissing. Then, out of the club the pair of them went; most likely back to the house for a night of fun. Yet again, Craig had been abandoned.

Sighing in frustration, Craig downed the two shots, one after the other. As nice as it was to find two other college students who were freshly out of the closet; moving in with them for his third year had hardly been the dream that he had pictured in his head all summer. He just wasn’t like them in so many ways. His brain was simply wired differently. The guys they chased just didn’t interest him in the slightest, and the endless quests to get laid were exhausting. Sam, who had a thing for sex in the shower, would probably be running all their hot water as soon as he got his new lover home; running up the energy bills for all of them, yet again.

Sometimes Craig felt he was ten years older than he actually was. Why did it need to be so damn noisy in here? He could feel the bass thumping through his body as the three shots and many previous drinks made his head feel light and ever so slightly dizzy. There was that skinny guy, making eyes at him again as he danced only a few feet away; there for the taking if Craig would only step forward and introduce himself as he had promised the boys he would.

But Craig was alone here now. He didn’t need to please Sam or Wes, given that the pair of them were back at home, getting down and dirty. He turned to leave the dancing area, stumbling carelessly straight into what could only be described as a wall of man; his face falling into a large chest and his body bending slightly over a large protrusive stomach; warm and comforting.

“I’m so sorry!” he shouted, backing up to get a better look at the man he had just bumped into.

What stood before Craig was the most handsome guy he had ever seen. Tall, stocky and marvellously overweight. He had a broad, handsome face, with a delicious double chin and large cheeks. He wore a tight, fitted and super casual short-sleeved t-shirt that hid nothing of his giant ball gut underneath it. His arms were strong, his lightly tattooed forearms bigger than any Craig had ever seen, and his hands big and plump. Unusual for this venue, the man wore relaxed sweatpants that clung to his thick thighs and groin. And, as every sense flared with arousal, Craig picked up the unmistable musky scent of what he considered to be pure masculinity.

“Careful!” the guy replied with his deep, slightly gruff voice, taking his eyes on a tour of Craig’s body in return, and nodding with approval.

The two of them finally walked by each other, with the big man crossing the dancefloor to stand at the opposite wall and watch all the guys dancing away. He looked so out of place, his shape, his clothing, his sheer size; like a straight guy who had just got off the couch after an afternoon of beers and watching football. In Craig’s head, he could just imagine the comments that would spew from his housemate’s mouths if they saw him: taking aim at his large gut, poor dress sense and overall slob-like appearance. As it was, Craig felt nothing but excitement and curiosity as the loud music battered its way into his head and the sticky heat of the club became almost uncomfortable. Deciding he needed another drink, he snuck off to the bar, returning to see the big guy standing in exactly the same spot.

Like slabs of meat on a tray, the large man was surveying all of the young twenty-somethings on the dancefloor. His eyes flicked up towards Craig, making Craig’s eyes drop to the floor in embarrassment. Then the cycle started all over again. If Sam and Wes had still been there, Criag would never have allowed himself to indulge in the fascination he felt towards this man as he continued to watch from afar. The next time their eyes met, Craig forced himself to hold it for at least a short while, feeling a buzz of pure adrenaline for each microsecond that he managed to keep holding on. Then the ritual started all over again; eyes looking across the dancefloor until they met once more. This time, Craig was emboldened, holding the guy’s gaze and feeling his arousal growing for each second that he did so. One… two… three seconds. It was all Craig could manage as his hardness awoke and stretched itself in his groin. However, now Craig could tell that the guy was still staring at him, even as his own eyes tried to avoid looking in his direction. The man’s gaze was fixed, locking onto him like prey. Then, like a giant striding across the dancefloor, Craig saw the big man heading straight for him.

“Like what you see?” the big man grinned, suddenly standing in front of Craig and seeming larger than ever.

Craig’s heart was beating too fast. Without the biggest of voices, he always struggled to make himself heard in the deafening club. What would he even say if he could? Instead, he looked around, seeing that no one else was watching them, and then allowed his head to nod very gently.

The big man stepped closer, taking Craig’s drink and putting it gently on the side. Then he came in towards him with large hands that cupped Craig’s face. Their lips touched and tongues slid into action. Craig felt himself being pushed up against the wall, with the monstrous guy seemingly inflating his giant stomach out as large as it would go to keep Craig pinned to the wall. It was, without a single doubt, the most erotic moment of Craig’s life.

Craig knew that he would never have felt comfortable getting to know a guy so big and large in the club had Wes and Sam still been there. Rick was everything he had ever secretly wanted, as the pair of them shouted down each other’s ears, trying to make conversation in the deafeningly loud club. There wasn’t long left of the evening and both of them knew they didn’t want their time together to end, heading straight back to Craig’s place. Just as Craig had anticipated, the bathroom was soaking from Sam’s long, horny shower session and moans of pleasure were still sounding from both his housemates’ rooms.

Rick lay back on Craig’s bed, laughing at how small it was. Not being quite a full double bed, the big man absolutely dwarfed it in whatever direction he tried to lay. The sight gave Craig pure joy and he began undressing himself for the large man, letting him see exactly how aroused he was by him. Rick took the lead as it came time to get dirty, which Craig was more than grateful for. For the first time ever, he was having his butt lubricated up, ready to be taken, lying on his side as Rick began; simultaneously taking Craig’s erection into his large hand and gently bringing them both to a climax at exactly the same time. For his first experience of sex, Craig could not have wished for anything better.

A few hours later, the pair of them woke up together; Rick’s large hands cupping Craig’s small glutes and pulling him into him. They made out and spoke at length about how much they had enjoyed themselves the previous evening, settling back into another round of making each other climax.

“Do you want to come with me to get some breakfast?” Rick asked; his giant stomach rumbling as he pulled his hastily discarded underwear back on.

“I don’t think we have much in,” Craig replied.

“No. Not here,” Rick chuckled. “Let me take you out for some breakfast.”

Craig felt a little guilty at the idea of Rick paying to take him out. He’d always liked to pay his own way, never accepting drinks from guys who tried to flirt with him in bars. He attempted to explain this to Rick, but was quickly put at ease. Earlier that morning, Rick had spoken about how he worked in highway maintenance; committing to long shifts at sometimes very unsociable hours, in return for a pleasing salary. “I want to treat you,” he smiled. “I had a great time last night. Won’t you let me say thank you?”

Twenty minutes later, Craig found himself in a very greasy looking cafe that Rick seemed to know very well. They sat at a table and a server came straight over, pouring coffee for the pair of them.

“Two Mega Breakfasts please, Rachel,” Rick stated, as Craig hesitantly went to pick up the sticky-looking laminated menu.

“A Mega Breakfast?” Craig asked after she left. “That sounds pretty daunting.”

Rick chuckled. “You’ll manage it. You’re a college boy. You need feeding up. Plus, anything you can’t eat, I’ll finish for you,” he smiled greedily.

The breakfast meal, once it arrived, was every bit as massive as Craig had pictured in his head. Rick’s eyes had lit up, his mouth salivating, and he began consuming it, stacking sausages and egg onto one of the several rounds of toast; devouring it with the expertise of a man who had taken it on many times before.

“That’s not a bad effort, for a first attempt,” Rick nodded twenty minutes later, seeing that Craig had politely cleared at least half of the giant meal away. “You’ll know what to expect next time.”

Craig rubbed his achingly full stomach. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting another piece of bacon or fried toast again, let alone coming here for a giant breakfast in the future. He watched with relief as Rick switched their plates around and the big man began dutifully clearing the rest of Craig’s meal away. What was it about a big man gorging himself that was so damn sexy to watch?

“I would quite like to do this again sometime,” Rick smiled, kissing Craig goodbye as they parked up outside his house once more. “Maybe you could let me take you out for something to eat more often?”

Craig nodded, excited by the idea of dating Rick. He accepted another kiss and felt Rick’s hand slip from cupping his face, down towards his small, tightly packed stomach. Then, tearing himself away, up Craig got; crossing the street and waving one last time before heading inside.

“Who the fuck was that?” Wes asked as soon as Craig was infront of him. He shouted towards Sam in the kitchen. “I just caught Craig making out with some fat guy in a car across the street,” he explained.

“A fat guy?” Sam asked, immediately disgusted by the idea. “Was that who I heard pouding around in the bathroom this morning? Did you hook up with a fatty?”

“I only saw him inside his truck, but the guy looked pretty massive to me,” Wes continued. “He looked like he had tits and a massive double chin!”

“That’s gross!” Sam winced. “What the hell were you doing with that?”

“His name’s Rick,” Craig shot back, emboldened by the amazing time he had had with a guy who epitomised his type. “We’re going to be dating.”

“Why?” Wes asked. “Why would you settle for a fat guy? You’re hot. You could have someone much better. If we weren’t housemates, I’d probably have fucked you myself by now.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “Same,” he mumbled, looking Craig up and down.

Craig huffed in irritation and walked away. Was that the boys’ idea of a compliment? He couldn’t think of anything worse than dating someone who was anything like either of them. There was only one person who put butterflies in his stomach, and Craig wasn’t about to be talked out of dating him.

“You’ve got to admit, those were the best doughnuts you’ve ever had, right?” Rick grinned as the pair of them headed back to his truck one evening.

“They tasted exactly like the ones we had in the place we went to last time,” Craig chuckled as he slipped inside the vehicle.

“No!” Rick laughed in disbelief that his boyfriend could say such a thing. “Those doughnuts are nothing like that place! You need educating about what real tasty food is like.”

Craig nodded, feeling his tight stomach. All their dates seemed to revolve around Rick demonstrating his vast knowledge of food places around the city; a world that Craig, with his limited income and lack of transport, had no means of exploring until now.

“Will Dumb and Dumber be there when we get back to your place?” Rick asked, firing the engine into life and turning out of the parking lot.

“I think so,” Craig nodded, knowing exactly how Rick felt about Wes and Sam. “I’m sure they will be a bit more pleasant with you today. They were both just a little stressed about their assignments and stuff last time,” he lied.

Rick chuckled in a way that suggested he did not believe the excuse in the slightest. “It’s alright. I know they don’t think I’m good enough for you because I’m fat. I’m fine with that.”

Craig looked across at his boyfriend; confusion etched upon his face. “How can you be okay with that?” he asked.

“Because, guys like Wes and Sam, they don’t stay slim forever. You only have to look at how much they drink and the foods they eat to know they won’t be twinks for much longer.”

“Really?” Craig asked, feeling surprisingly fascinated by Rick’s observations. “How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me,” he smirked. “I’m sure! Give it another few months and you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Do you have some sort of sixth sense?” Craig joked.

Rick laughed. “I wish!” he nodded. “I mean, it’s not just those two. Your stomach is going to start pushing out into a little tummy soon. But that’s going to be all my fault… because I’m going to spoil you and pamper you so much!” he teased, rubbing Craig’s thigh as he drove.

Craig laughed, not knowing how serious his boyfriend was actually being. But, even so, Rick did seem oddly determined that they spend a lot of their time enjoying good food together. Perhaps Rick really wouldn’t mind if he gained a few pounds…

Over the next few weeks, Craig started to realise that what he found so unrelentingly attractive about Rick, was his impressive confidence in his own body. Even though he knew that Sam and Wes disapproved of Craig dating such a fat guy, Rick never failed to pull off his shirt whenever he arrived at the house; seeming to revel in their scorn. When he stayed over, he never got dressed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, becoming Wes and Sam’s biggest complaint to date. That was, until Rick had left one weekend, deliberately planting a pair of his enormous underwear in the corner of the bathroom, like he had simply forgotten them. Wes had come in, holding them out in front of him with a large pair of barbecuing tongues that had seemed to have appeared from nowhere, and holding his nose as he dropped them in Craig’s room whilst giving him a thorough lecture about how his gross boyfriend was staying over far too much.

Wes wasn’t wrong; Rick was there at least four nights every week. He was comfortable in their house. However, although he had tried several times, Rick couldn’t really fit into their shower, meaning that there were a few nights when he and Craig would sleep over at Rick’s place instead, where the big man lived with his older cousin, Bob, in the suburbs.

Bob was much the same as Rick himself: large and round, with the same laid-back attitude to his body. It was obvious from the layout of the house that the pair of them cared little about the space being anything more than functional. Several take-out menus adorned the refrigerator door and not a single piece of fruit or vegetables lay inside. It was clear how much Rick looked up to his older cousin; rarely talking about his actual, overly-educated parents, except to say that they fell out some years ago when he refused to go to college. Bob had been the first black sheep in their family, and in moving in with him, Rick had become the second.

“Bob just gets me in a way that no one else in my family ever has. He got me my job when I left school and we’ve never had an argument, even after seven years of me staying here,” Rick explained as he introduced Craig to him for the first time.

It was clear to Craig that he was meeting someone very special to his boyfriend. The fact that Rick’s relationships with the rest of his family were so strained only mirrored Craig’s feelings about his own family. The pair of them could bond over their tales of uptight mothers and absent, but expectant fathers. It all felt so much easier when someone else understood these situations from a similar perspective.

However, with both Rick and his cousin, Bob, on the same shift pattern, it was rare that Craig stayed over with them. Rick always made the excuse that Bob was entertaining a variety of lady friends back at their place; a fact that would probably surprise many people, looking at his monstrous size.

“Smells good!” Rick sang as he arrived one Friday evening and smelt the aroma of Wes and Sam’s take out pizzas. “Are these from the place I told you about?” he asked them, pretending that they were all friends. “It’s so much cheaper than anywhere else. It just doesn’t keep so well the next day,” he explained, seeing that the boys were quitting with half a pizza remaining. “I’d try and finish that if you can. It won’t be any good once you need to reheat it,” he advised, winking at Craig and letting him know that he was only playing with them. It was something he had been doing for weeks now; introducing them both to beers and letting them try large amounts of the take-outs he had bought for himself when he stayed over. Despite not liking him, the boys had never failed to accept his generosity, just as Rick had secretly wanted.

This charade came as a relief to Craig. He’d felt his own pants starting to pinch a little more than usual in the last couple of weeks. Perhaps his little weight gain didn’t necessarily have to cause a relationship drama, like it would with most couples. Maybe people could just get used to seeing him in his sweatpants a little more whilst he sorted this out. Rick wasn’t exactly precious about his own weight and, indeed, he seemed to find the idea of Wes and Sam putting on a few pounds to be highly amusing.

The weeks rolled by. Craig sat himself down and pulled out his laptop. There were plenty of places for students to study on the college campus, but Craig had come to prefer this coffee house for its relative peace and quiet. He had been engrossed in his reading, not realising that he was being observed from a distance, until a tall, slightly pot-bellied man, a little older than him, suddenly came and stood in front of him.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” the man explained, taking the spare seat on Craig's table. “I just recognised you from your boyfriend’s socials and I thought…” He seemed to sigh at this point, not appearing to know why he needed to speak to him, or how to explain exactly what it was he was trying to say. “It’s about Rick. I’m not sure you really know who he really is.”

Craig looked across at the guy with suspicion. What had he been doing, lurking on Rick’s social media and taking the time to commit Craig’s face to his memory? His stalker senses were spiking.

“I’m Geoff,” the guy explained, reaching his hand out to shake. “I’m certain that Rick has definitely not spoken to you about me.”

Craig shook his head, not committing to opening his mouth and engaging in a conversation he wasn’t sure he wanted to have.

“I was in high school with him. In fact, I was his boyfriend for quite some time as well,” Geoff continued. “We broke up about four years ago.”

“Then what are you doing still looking up his socials?” Craig asked, allowing a little of his suspicion and irritation to filter through his voice.

“I just didn’t want anyone else to go through what I went through with him,” Geoff replied. “Let me ask you, has Rick ever spoken to you about his high school days?”

“Not really,” Craig huffed, wondering what sort of relevance Rick’s time in high school would have on anything these days.

Geoff was busily finding a picture on his cell phone. “I bet he never told you that he used to look like this…” he mumbled, turning the screen around so that Craig could see. The face of the handsome eighteen year old in the picture was so familiar to him, but the body below it was so far beyond what Craig had anticipated. A shirtless, chiselled and muscular Rick smiled away from the cell phone. Six-packed and lean, Rick looked the epitome of athleticism and strength.

“That’s not real,” Craig shot back.

“I assure you, it is,” Geoff nodded, swiping through more and more pictures: Rick playing football, partying and posing with a much younger and slimmer Geoff, back when they were dating. “I’m guessing he just told you he’d always been a fat guy?”

Craig considered the question. He didn’t think Rick had said much about anything from his past; certainly not high school. And, besides, what would it even matter?

“This might shock you, but… Rick atually gained all the weight on purpose,” Geoff stated frankly. “I’m guessing you’ve met his cousin, Bob, as well? He did the same thing: a high school jock, but fattened himself huge. I was dating Rick at the time. He was fascinated by it, watching Bob stacking on the weight. He said that the pair of them understood each other in a way that no one else did.”

Craig nodded. Rick had said pretty much the same thing to him several times before.

“So when Rick left high school and moved in with Bob, he started to do exactly the same thing. I was away at college at the time and came back to find my boyfriend had gained fifty pounds in three months. Fifty pounds!” he boomed in exasperation. “I thought he was depressed. I thought something was really wrong. Rick didn’t tell me about all of the deliberate overeating he was doing; the special weight-gain shakes he and Bob were making for each other at night; spurring themselves on,” he grumbled, shaking his head in disapproval. “Bob was dating a girl called Helen back then as well. She lived not far away, so she was with them more. Now, she could tell you some stories!” Geoff added gravely.

“What do you mean?” Craig asked, feeling thoroughly invested in the story now.

“She was devoted to Bob, even after he started getting so fat. She said that she could tell that Bob was pushing his bad eating habits onto her. She was putting on weight; a lot of it; very quickly.”

Craig sat back, unimpressed. “People always make excuses when they gain weight. They want to find someone to blame.”

Geoff nodded in complete agreement. “I said the same thing. I even told her as much when she broke up with Bob. But after I dropped out of college and moved back here, I noticed that Rick was doing the same thing to me. He’d obviously been watching how Bob had done it to Helen and decided to have a go himself. He took me out for food constantly, telling me that he loved spoiling and pampering me. He said that college had made me skinny, and that I needed feeding up.”

Craig listened, feeling an odd sense of familiarity about the whole thing. “What happened to you?” he asked.

Geoff leaned back and showed his stomach to answer that question. “I put on a lot of weight. Gradual at first, but then it seemed to spiral. Rick was so sweet, and I thought, by not making a big deal about it, my weight struggle might help to make Rick feel less insecure, as he was starting to get quite obese at that point. I still loved him. I didn’t realise that his weight gain was on purpose, nor that mine was being orchestrated.”

Despite everything, Craig felt a pang of jealousy as Geoff talked about his ex as if he knew him so well; a secret, shared history that he himself could never be a part of.

“I got to almost 270lbs before I finally left him. It’s been four years since we broke up and I’m still over two hundred pounds now. It’s so hard to get it off once you gain weight,” he complained, shaking his head.

Craig didn’t know what to say. The conversation had suddenly paused at a very awkward spot.

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because I can tell that Rick is planning on doing the same thing to you. The pictures I see of you two together. It’s like history repeating itself all over again. This is all probably some kinky little fantasy in Rick’s head, fattening up some little chubby-chasing college boy.”

Craig’s teeth ground together as Geoff referred to him as a ‘chubby-chaser’, setting his mind against the guy altogether. Wes and Sam had mocked him for it endlessly since he had started dating Rick. So what if he was a chubby-chaser? Geoff probably looked way better with all the extra fat on him anyway. Who could blame Rick if he had fattened him up a bit?

“Well, thanks for the info,” he snapped impatiently. “But I think I can look after myself, thank you very much.”

“Don’t you want to know more?” Geoff asked, surprised that he was being turned away. “I can give you a contact number for Helen? She can tell you about her experience as well.”

Craig refused and turned his attention back to his assignment until a bewildered Geoff finally got the message and walked away. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up to read the message that had popped up on the screen. ‘I’m finishing early this evening,’ Rick explained. ‘Let me take you out to that Italian place tonight. We can get ice cream and doughnuts afterwards…. I can’t wait to spoil you rotten!’

“Have you noticed Wes getting a little softer recently?” Rick asked a couple of weeks later. “His clothes are always so fitted, there’s no hiding the little lovehandles he seems to have acquired.”

Craig nodded. Of course he had noticed. The same thing had started to happen to Sam as well, with his tight little butt beginning to put on more mass and a flush of extra coating filling out his normally slender face. “It’s your fault, getting them both onto those cheap beers and take-outs.”

Rick chuckled to himself. “Guilty,” he nodded playfully. It was no secret that Rick was not a fan of either of the boys, so he certainly wasn’t about to show any remorse at the fact that the pair of them were now struggling with maintaining their weight.

Craig laughed, despite the guilt that he felt at Wes and Sam’s newest predicament. He had had no idea that inviting Rick into their house would have such an impact on all their lives. The truth was that no matter how surprising the extra pounds looked on Wes and Sam, it was nothing in comparison to what he was feeling himself. His previously slow gain of 15lbs had begun to spike quite sharply, doubling in the last three weeks. He had felt it in his stomach and butt, but also in his face, as fat began to disribute itself under his chin in much the same way as it was with Sam

“Watch this,” Rick whispered to Craig, sitting back with a clearly mischievous glint in his eyes. “Sam… Wes!” he called out loudly, not getting up from his chair.

The two boys appeared from around the corner, each carrying a can of Rick’s beer that he had brought over; having helped themselves, just as Rick always insisted they do.

“I got paid today, so I’m taking Craig out for some doughnuts to celebrate. You boys want to tag along?” he asked. “My treat.”

Of course Wes and Sam took him up on the offer, smirking at each other at yet another opportunity to take advantage of Rick’s generous nature. Then Craig looked across at his boyfriend who appeared to be even more pleased with himself. A great, wicked plan was unfolding right before his very eyes; yet Craig had never felt more drawn to him.

By the following weekend, Craig had packed on a further 5lbs, gazing into the bathroom mirror as Rick slept on in his bedroom. He couldn’t get over how much his body was altering in such a short space of time. His chest had become softer in a matter of weeks and his flat stomach had rounded out, appearing fleshy underneath the skin. Even in his arms, which had always been naturally quite toned, Craig began to feel softer and less conditioned. But as he spun himself around, Craig awkwardly tried to get a look at his butt, which had been causing him the most clothing problems with anything other than the great array of sweatpants Rick had been buying in for him; arriving with these as if they were a token of his love, and professing to have chosen them for him based upon their interesting colours or style. Those previously tight and petitie glutes of his were taking on a whole new swollen shape. Craig found that he could actually grab almost the entire cheek in his hand and bounce it in a way that he never imagined before; the great soft mass of it going up and down feeling utterly bizarre.

Craig turned back again, looking down and seeing something else that had been worrying him lately. All the blood in his body had seemed to rush into his groin as he surveyed his physique in the mirror. He wondered why he wasn’t like Geoff, feeling completely outraged by the subtle ways Rick was manipulating him to overeat like he had been doing. But then he looked again at his body: the doughy stomach and fleshed out nipples; all those features that spoke of chubiness and excess weight; all the things that he admired so much in others and found so irresistably attractive. Even Wes and Sam were looking more appealing of late. Something was happening to him in this relationship, and Craig started to realise that, rather than being furious, he was actually aroused in a way that he never would have predicted.

“Whose idea was it to go on a double date?” Craig asked a few weeks later, as he slipped on the brand new shirt that Rick had bought for him that afternoon.

“Bob’s,” Rick explained. “He’s super into this new girl. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him this smitten.”

“And what do you think about her?” Craig asked, having realised that Rick was actually a surprisingly good judge of character.

“She’s nice,” Rick nodded. “Quite quiet, like you. But she shares some of my cousin’s interests, which I know he is really enjoying at the moment.”

“What sort of interests?” Craig shot back.

Rick’s cool composure briefly slipped and he looked suddenly caught out by the question. It was clear that he had not expected Craig to seek clarification. “Oh, um… you know. They both like cooking and stuff…” he mumbled, changing the subject almost immediately.

Craig and Rick arrived at the buffet place first, sitting themselves down at the table and politely sipping their drinks, despite the fact that the food smelt so good. About ten minutes later, an obviously very much loved-up couple strolled into the restaurant, giggling from jokes in their own private love laguage. Dark haired, overweight and wearing a dress that was far too small, Bob’s date still looked far too slim to be with him and his giant ball-like gut. They sat down after Bob had courteously pulled out a chair for her, giving her chubby butt one final pat before it disappeared underneath her oversized body.

The conversation didn’t exactly flow, but it was hardly awkward either. The giggly mood that Bob and his date had arrived in, continued as they began their first couple of rounds from the buffet. It was obvious that the pair of them only had eyes for each other and, although they did ask the occasional question of Rick or Craig, it was clear that they weren’t really listening. Bob’s hand kept sliding under the table and Craig wondered, more than once, whether the man was rubbing or patting his date’s belly in a way that would suggest she knew that he liked to feed up his women.

“Get those down you,” Bob smirked, handing over a plate of chicken wings to his younger cousin some time later. Craig had sensed a quiet competition between them both as they had gorged themselves; with Bob remaining a smug plate in the lead the whole time.

Rick nodded, never one to turn down a challenge.

“I’m stuffed!” Bob’s date declared, dropping her fork. “I couldn’t eat another bite!”

Bob smiled at her. “That’s okay, babe. You did very well. You managed five and a half plates of food,” he grinned, looking over at his cousin as he said it; as if taking another victory.

“How many plates have I had?” Craig asked Rick, suddenly suspecting that a secondary, simultaneous competition was taking place.

“Four,” Rick replied quietly, beginning to suck on his chicken wings.

So this was a competition, Craig realised. Not only had Bob eaten more than Rick, but his girlfriend had been greedier too. The reason for the whole double date now became very clear.

Craig got himself up without a word. He could sense the eyes of the others on the table as he collected a fresh plate and began filling it up, mounding it as high as he could.

“You’re still hungry, babe?” Rick asked with delight as Craig got back to the table,

Craig simply nodded and chewed. “Do you think we could go to that cheesecake place afterwards as well?” he asked, knowing that Bob was listening in.

“Yeah, babe. Of course we can,” Rick beamed, rubbing Craig’s thigh in approval. “You can have whatever you want.”

Hearing only a faint sigh from Bob’s direction, Craig knew that he had at least evened the score between the two cousins. Now he just needed to focus on getting all the food down.

It had been some time since the three housemates, Craig, Sam and Wes, had been out to the gay clubs. But with Rick set to make a small fortune working nights over the weekend, Craig finally had an evening with nothing to do. He put on his new shirt and pants, heading out to the clubs carrying an extra forty pounds than the last time he was out. But despite his remarkable weight increase, it wasn’t his size people were looking at. Clearly still in denial about their gains, Wes and Sam were still trying to squeeze themselves into the same twink-like outfits that had worked for them in the past. But despite how well these clothes continued to fit the boys in the shoulders and arms, the cheap material clung unflatteringly to their bloated middles and lovehandles, emphasising them even more than Craig’s own. It was almost embarrassing; especially when Wes got up to dance and gave the unsuspecting crowds an eyefull of his ass crack.

“He’s quite cute, I suppose,” Sam muttered as the end of the evening approached and he had still had no succes in catching anyone’s attention.

“His friend is pretty hot as well,” Wes nodded in agreement.

“Go talk to them,” Craig smiled encouragingly, trying not to show his amusement at their choices. The two guys they were checking out were like him: chubby and soft; not at all the sort of guys the two horny boys would have resorted to only a few months earlier. Yet, there they were only half an hour later, leading them back home. Beggars, it seemed, couldn’t be choosers.

“Who’s the little chub with Wes?” Rick asked the following weekend, whispering as the housemate arrived home with company.

“His new boyfriend…” Craig grinned.

Rick laughed in surprise. “Wes has a boyfriend? I thought he was all about keeping things casual?”

Craig shrugged. “He says they’re perfect for each other. Sam’s out on an actual, proper date as well. I guess they’re both growing up.”

“More like ‘growing out,’” Rick laughed mockingly. “There’s no way the old Wes would have given a fat guy like that a chance.”

“I guess…” Craig nodded slowly. They both knew that Wes and Sam’s gains were mostly down to his meddling. Now Rick looked positively delighted with himself.

“Bob and I were talking,” Rick began next, dropping his massive body down onto the sofa and slipping his arm over his chubby lover’s shoulders. “Maybe you could save a little money next year by moving in with us.”

Craig snorted on his beer. An invitation to move in with Rick had been the last thing he had expected.

“It would be so much fun,” Rick continued, rubbing his chubby hands up and down Craig’s doughy torso. “Bob is totally up for the idea. Just imagine it, I’d be able to spoil and pamper you every single day…”

“But we’ve only been dating eight months,” Craig mumbled.

Rick’s hands were lost in the massaging of Craig’s body: his soft stomach and sensitive nipples. “I know. But I think you’re ready,” he whispered seductively.

Craig pondered his boyfriend’s odd choice of phrasing. He sensed that everything Rick had done up until now had been some sort of preamble for this next stage. Quietly fattening him up to 200lbs was nothing in comparison to what he had done to Geoff. Now it seemed, Rick’s attention was thoroughly locked on taking him a lot further.

“You’d love living with me, wouldn’t you?” Rick asked teasingly; beginning to stroke the hardness that he had discovered swelling in Craig’s pants, even though they were both still in the shared living space.

A moan escaped Craig’s lips as his eyes rolled back into his head. “We can’t do this here,” he whispered, looking over to the door and worrying that Wes could walk in any second.

“Well then, I guess you should hurry up and tell me you’ll move in with me,” Rick teased, speeding up his stimulation of Craig, rather than stopping.

Craig’s whole body shuddered and he knew he could probably climax with rapid speed if Rick just kept doing what he was doing. Sometimes Rick could get him to orgasm faster than seemed natural for most guys.

“I really want to. But…” Craigh sighed, trying to make his brain think of how to phrase his concerns.

“You don’t want to be spoiled and pampered by me every day?” Rick asked, whispering now as Wes and his new boyfriend’s voices seemed close to the door.

“That’s exactly what I’m scared of!” Craig shot back, pulling his sweatpants back just in time as Wes entered.

“We’re just heading out for some food,” Wes explained, after introducing his overweight boyfriend to Rick.

“Take these,” Rick insisted, pulling out some coupons for the pizza place a couple of blocks away. “That’ll save you some cash and you can get a few beers while you’re out,” he smiled cunningly. “In fact,” he grinned, looking down at a still flustered Craig, and pulling out a twenty from his wallet, “why don’t you boys make sure you stay out for a couple of hours and give us some space?”

Wes never had a problem with accepting anything from Rick; nodding in agreement and shuffling out of the house after his chubby new lover.

“Cute couple,” Rick chuckled as the door finally closed behind them both. “Now,” he grinned, pulling off his shirt and releasing his giant belly. “We have the whole house to ourselves. Where I…” he rambled, getting down onto his knees and lifting Craig’s shirt off him as he sat on the couch still. “...can spend some time trying to convince you that moving in with me will be a great idea.”

Craig had to wriggle on the couch as Rick pulled down his sweatpants and underwear, until he was entirely butt naked; his hardness getting sucked on with perfection by his giant lover.

“You are so hard tonight. I can feel your dick pulsing in my mouth,” Rick chuckled, taking a quick break.

“Well, you’ve got great skills,” Craig smiled back.

“You’re not wrong. If you want a decent blow job, you should always ask a greedy guy. Someone who knows how to push a lot into his mouth,” he teased seductively, knowing that it was always that sort of confidence in his size that never failed to get Craig going.

“What about me?” Craig asked. “Do I give good blow jobs?”

“Would you like to be good at it?” Rick smirked wickedly, rubbing Craig’s doughy pot belly.

“Yes,” Craig nodded with submission.

“I’ll train you up then,” Rick nodded slowly. “When you move in with me, I’ll teach you exactly what it means to have a big, greedy mouth,” he smirked, actually pinching at Craig’s belly fat and jiggling it gently. “Would you like that?”

“Yes!” Craig shot back, his eyes wide as he actually felt an orgasm building simply from having his fat handled.

“Are you going to move in with me then? And let me train you?” Rick teased, shaking Craig’s belly fat even more.

“Yes!” Craig whimpered through gritted teeth as his erection actually erupted there and then, streaming down the shaft in great waves and pooling between his thighs. What had he just signed up for?

Sam and Wes were annoyed when Craig told them he wouldn’t be taking the room for his final year in college. They had little comprehension of how merciful he was actually being, freeing them from the meddlesome grasp of Rick who would no longer be able to torment them, nor their waistlines.

The summer arrived and Craig headed home to spend a couple of months with his family. He braced himself for the looks and comments he would get about his weight gain, but on the whole, it was fairly muted. He hadn’t had a huge circle of friends in high school, and those he did have were on the larger side anyway. His mother was the only one who caused a fuss, talking about how out of shape he looked and how out of breath he seemed once he had to resume his old chore of taking the trash out for her. As he showed her pictures of his boyfriend, Rick, she visibly bristled at his size, not holding back her thoughts on who was to blame for Craig’s additional pounds; especially when she hit the bottle.

Away from Rick, the weight didn’t feel quite as erotic as it had before. He felt every bit as trapped as he had been back in high school, trying to manage his mother’s silent issues with alcohol; leaning on Rick for support and to take his mind off things whenever he called each evening.

Slipping back into his old diet and lifestyle at home, Craig found the weight to be dropping off him fairly swiftly. Although he knew this would probably disappoint Rick when he next saw him, for Craig, it was a welcome relief. In allowing himself to climax at having his fat jiggled, he felt like he had reliquished a little more of his true desires than he had bargained for. By losing weight and getting back to his old habits, Craig would be able to stand his ground and maintain a physique that more resembled his appearance at the start of his relationship with Rick. That, more than anything else, would help to prove that he wasn’t really getting off on becoming so out of shape.

“Well, look who it is!” Rick smiled, grabbing both of the heavy bags Craig was carrying out of the airport and putting them down on the floor. Although he had ended his time at home on a very sour note with his mother, an immediate surge of passion swelled through Craig at seeing the large man again. Was Rick’s stomach even rounder than it had been before? It certainly looked bigger, with his belly peeking out of the bottom of his undersized t-shirt. “Someone’s pleased to see me,” the big man teased, seeing a bulge forming in Craig’s pants after their embrace.

Craig looked down, embarrassed, but Rick simply chuckled and started to lead the way out. Craig was cursing his body. He’d spent all summer psyching himself up for taking back some control in this relationship and already his hardness was letting him down. In fact, it was getting worse; flooding with blood more and more as he followed behind the massive glutes of his boyfriend; now that he carried the two massive bags in each hand, Rick actually looked wider than the back end of a car..

After throwing the bags into the back of his truck, Craig felt the entire vehicle rock as Rick climbed inside; yet another little detail about dating such a big man that Craig loved, and had almost entirely fogotten during his time at home. Rick looked around the parking lot, seeing that it was fairly clear. Then he turned his attention to the tent that was pushing up the material in Craig’s pants and slid his hand over the top of it. “Summer’s over,” he whispered seductively into Craig’s ear. “You’re all mine now!”

Even as the pair of them raced upstairs upon immediately getting home, Rick didn’t mention Craig’s thirty pound weight loss. The moment seemed to be entirely consumed by Rick’s new size as he balanced his large stomach on Craig’s back and set to work.

“What’s that doing in here?” Craig asked afterwards as they lay together in bed.

“It’s our new refrigerator,” Rick smiled. “It’ll save us having to go downstairs for snacks all the while.”

Craig mumbled in disapproval. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep all that well with the humming nose.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Rick laughed, rolling over to cuddle his lover better and making the entire bed rock and squeal. “You’re going to be getting used to a lot of new things this year…”

Living with Rick was a complete culture shift after the summer. His fourth and final year in college was more intense than any of the years that had come before it. Rick’s place was further away from campus, and so Craig now took the bus pretty much everywhere he had to go. Bob and Rick lived on take-outs and turned their noses up whenever Craig tried to make something wholesome and homemade; like a couple of five year olds refusing to even try a vegetable of any kind.

To Craig’s surprise, he soon learned that Bob and Rick hired an older lady, called Pam, to come in and take care of the place for them.

“Such dirty boys, these two,” she gumbled to Craig as he tried to work at the kitchen counter on an assignment. It was clear that she had deep affection for both Rick and Bob; however, that didn’t mean they were above her criticisms. She busily cleaned out take-out containers and put them away for recylcing. “Some days I come in here and want to cry. I’m amazed they don’t have rats.”

Craig nodded awkwardly in agreement. Maybe if the pair of them ever left even the slightest crumb from all the food they consumed, rats and mice could indeed have become a problem for them.

“And Rick was such a handsome boy when he moved in,” Pam went on, pulling a pair of enormous underwear from the washing machine; the elastic in them obviously coming to the end of its life. “It’s such a shame!”

At this, Craig’s interest was caught. “You’ve known the boys that long?” he asked. In all the time he had been dating Rick, Pam was only the second person he had ever come across who had spoken about the Rick’s former physique.

“Oh, yes! I met him when he first moved in here with his cousin,” she began. “There had been problems at home. He hadn’t wanted to go to college, despite being so clever. Then he didn’t want to play sports, despite being so gifted. They all thought Bob was a bad influence, which I can’t say I disagree with,” she nodded fairly. “As soon as Rick moved in he started piling on the weight, just like his cousin had a couple of years earlier. I remember looking at him one day and noticing this little paunch had popped out on him. His face got chubby. Then his whole body just bloated and got bigger and bigger.”

Craig wrigged awkwardly in his seat, feeling an odd arousal as he imagined Rick undergoing such a transformation. “He had another boyfriend back then, didn’t he?” Craig asked, wondering just how clued up Pam really was on the goings on in this house.

She thought for a moment. “Yes. Now, what was his name?” she pondered, before Geoff’s name came to her again. “He was another lovely boy.”

“Was he a big guy as well?” Craig questioned.

Pam thought back. “Yes,” she nodded, looking away slightly as she tried to recall. “I remember him having quite the big stomach on him. But only after he moved in here with the boys.”

“Geoff moved in with them?” Rick asked next, surprised that this had been the case.

“For quite a few months,” she nodded. “Rick used to spoil him rotten!” she smiled.

“He does the same with me,” Craig blushed. He’d only been living there for a couple of weeks and already he could feel his stomach reinflating. He knew that Ben and Rick had a pair of scales somewhere, but they weren’t placed anywhere obvious so that he could have free access to them and check his suspicions.

“Well, you just be careful,” Pam smiled at him. “I love Bob and RIck dearly, but I know they’re no angels either. I’ve watched quite a few of Bob’s girlfriends get pretty big over the years.”

“And you think that will happen to me?” Craig shot back, feeling a great spike of arousal at the thought. After all, he was still quite far from his starting weight, back when he met Rick for the first time.

Pam glanced down towards Craig’s slight double chin. “You just be careful,” she repeated again in a motherly fashion; perhaps holding back her true thoughts of what was really about to happen next.

Portion sizes became Craig’s greatest enemy over the following weeks. After a day of manual work, the boys filled their plates to astronomical levels, and they did the same for Craig; whether he’d asked for it or not. At first, he left plenty of it on his plate for Rick to finish off. But, these days, Rick was starting to nag him for wasting food. “Just get the fries down, at least,” he’d sigh, seeing the large mountain that remained on the plate. Then: “You can’t leave all that meat,” he’d grumble.

Craig had hoped that Rick and Bob would start to put less on his plate, but they never did. He’d sometimes catch their knowing looks; smirking as they piled the food up more and more. With Bob back to being single, Craig suddenly felt that he had become the boys’ sole focus of their entertainment.

By the time Thanksgiving came around, Craig was right back where he had started, with his stomach bouncing back to the size it had been at the end of the summer semester. However, the regained weight had deposited differently on his body now that he had lost the weight and put it back on. His butt and thighs were softer and larger this time, his nipples more sensitive. His facial cheeks had blown up more, and Craig had decided to keep his spreading double chin concealed underneath a camouflage of short and very necessary facial hair.

“Oh, I love this time of year!” Bob sighed, plopping himself into his big armchair by the TV after a ginormous Thanksgiving meal and beginning to snack on the leftover buffet food from the evening before. “Nothing but endless food now, until the beginning of January!” he beamed, tapping his large stomach. “A fat guy’s dream!”

Craig considered tidying up, but he knew that Pam was coming in the morning. Instead, he took his swollen and sore body over to the couch and threw himself lazily down next to his boyfriend, snuggling into his large body. Rick hadn’t worn a shirt since finishing work on the Tuesday, and his overstuffed tummy had never looked larger. Despite the unusually cold November that they were experiencing, it was obvious that the large guy was experiencing what Rick referred to as ‘the meat sweats’.

“You wait until you see how crazy we go over the holidays,” Bob teased Craig just as RIck burped uncomfortably from all the food. “Our Rick here is king of the eggnog!”

“I’ve already made Craig a batch of my special eggnog actually,” Rick explained to his cousin.

“Oh, have you?” Bob smirked, getting a quick look at Craig’s swollen belly. “I see.”

“I was actually going to go see my mom this Christmas, but…” Craig pondered aloud. As the weight had piled back on him in the last couple of months, all he could imagine was his mother’s sarcastic voice in his head, telling him things that he didn’t want to hear; blaming him for everything that was wrong in her life.

“But he knows he’ll have a better time with us!” Rick told Bob, finishing off Craig’s sentence for him; saving Craig from having to explain his awkward relationship with his mother.

“Excellent!” boomed Bob. “We’ll look after you,” he winked. “Won’t we, Rick?”

With his arm draped over Craig’s shoulders, Rick rubbed the top of Craig’s arm, like the boy was his dutiful student. “Definitely,” he nodded. Then came the daunting phrase that Craig had heard all too often. “We’ll be spoiling you rotten!”

It was strange to see people that Craig had met many times in the past and not have them recognise him. That was exactly what was starting to happen as the Spring finally arrived. It was all the fat Craig had gained in his face. It had changed his appearance quite considerably; especially with his facial hair. Over the winter months, his weight had been building and building. It was his own fault. He hadn’t been fighting Rick and Bob, as well as their manipulations to ensure that he over-ate in the same way that they did. However, it was also the case that gaining weight was just so easy. Rather than having the traumatic experience of feeling his clothes tighten and a lover who disapproved, Rick was constantly slowly updating Craig’s wardrobe, subtly ensuring that his transition into obesity was as smooth as possible.

Now when Craig looked in the mirror, he saw the shape of man he would have been very much attracted to himself. He had all the fat features that he adored so much, on his very own body. Back in the days before he met Rick, he had longed to play with a guy with such jiggly nipples as he had now. The back fat, the arm blubber and jiggly thighs: they were all things he had adored. He couldn’t believe that he had such a protrusive stomach, nor comprehend the width of his swelling butt, meaning that he frequently knocked things over as he tried to glide into tight spaces that would not have been a problem for him eighteen months ago. What turned him on even more was the fact that he never envisioned himself inhabiing a body like this. He held up his underwear in disbelief. Did he really need such oversized clothes now? Had he really allowed his kink to take him this far? All because he’d fallen for a big man with a secret desire to feed him up?

The sex with Rick was even more astonishing as Craig had grown. He senseed there was a closeness and connection between them both that could not be matched. He felt admired and appreciated like never before. The way Rick’s hands travelled across his expanding body, reaching for all the softest parts, assessing the great width of his shape and marvelling at the pure fat that had taken over his body. Finally, Craig had found the one man who understood his attraction to all of this, like no one else he had ever met in his life.

The acceptance came easy after that. By the summer, Craig was well over 300lbs and lounging about on the couch, just the same as the other two when Pam came around to clean for them all. He couldn’t believe his luck as he was hired by a company straight after his graduation, working from home three days each week and only needing to commute into the city on the two other days.

“Maybe we could start thinking about getting our own place soon?” Craig smiled as he scanned his first paycheck with pride.

“I’d really like that,” Rick nodded, unbuttoning the shirt of his pot bellied boyfriend after his hard day in the office. Living with Bob had been great, but after two years of being together, the time felt right for the pair of them to branch out on their own.

Collectively, the pair of them saved and set money aside over the following months; planning their move for sometime in the Spring. The whole idea gave them both a glow of bubbling excitement; with their loved-up contentment ensuring that the pair of them continued to swell up even more.

“That has to be the best Chinese place in town,” Craig smiled, as he leaned back and rubbed his large, tight stomach a few weeks later. All three of them had gorged on their own banquet meal for two and there wasn’t a single thing left to show for it. “I hope there’s somewhere just as good in our new place,” he commented offhandedly to Rick, thinking about their imagined new apartment.

“What new place?” Bob jumped in, sounding immediately irritated.

Craig winced, remembering that Rick had asked him not to mention it to Bob until they had time to all sit down and discuss their move properly, mouthing a silent ‘sorry’ to his boyfriend as he could tell that he had just dropped his foot in it.

“You plan to move out together?” he asked Craig in a surprisingly aggressive tone.

“Not yet,” Craig smiled, trying to calm the suddenly tense atmosphere. “But in a few months, maybe.”

“That’s bullshit,” Bob laughed. “Rick’s not moving out. We’ve lived together for years. He loves it here.”

Rick breathed in awkwardly, knowing that he needed to set his cousin straight. “It’s just something Craig and I think might be a good next step for the pair of us,” he offered, as if dipping his toe into very hot water and then taking it straight out again.

“Bullshit!” Bob snarled. “Are you just saying that to keep him happy?” he pointed rudely at Craig.

“No. It’s…” Rick mumbled. “It’s something we’ve been talking about for a few months now.”

Bob shook his head angrily. The idea of Craig breaking up his living arrangements with his cousin had sent him into a fiery temper that Craig had never witnessed before. “Do you know what he calls you behind your back?” he snarled at Craig. “Your precious boyfriend over there?”

Craig sat there motionless, wondering where this sudden anger had come from.

“Dude!” Rick cried, attempting to make his cousin see reason and not hit out like it was obvious he was about to do.

“He calls you his ‘pet pig,’” Bob shot back. “You wanna know why you’re so fucking fat now?” he growled angily across to Craig. “It’s because he made you that way. He pours appetite stimulants into your pasta sauce, calorie boosters into your milkshake and whipping cream into your coffee. And that’s only the half of it!”

Craig looked across at Rick’s anxious face.

“He doesn’t actually love you. He’s just a kinky little fucker, like me. He gets off on making you fatter. That’s all.”

“Cool it, Bob!” Rick shouted now, clearly getting angry.

“Do you know how many times he’s asked me to help him get a measuring tape around that fat stomach of yours when you’ve drifted off to sleep, slumped on the couch? He even keeps a notebook.”

Rick’s head slipped into his hands, hardly believing that all of this was unfolding. Meanwhile, Craig’s wild eyes simply switched back and forth between the pair of them.

“And…” Bob added, laughing aggressively at the next piece of information he decided to share. “You want to know why you always get the munchies right before bedtime?” he blasted on. “It’s because Rick trained it into you. He looked up online how to do it; dosing you up with sugar for weeks until you started to do it all yourself. You really think he loves you?” he scoffed. “Two years you’ve been together and the only conversations he’s ever had with me about you is getting my advice on how to make sure you get even fatter.”

Craig got up, feeling Bob’s onslaught was getting too much for him. He heard the two cousins shouting at each other as he climbed the stairs and took himself into the bedroom. Was this it? Was his relationship over? Had every affectionate word that Rick ever said to him been a complete lie?

“You probably have some questions for me?” Rick gingerly asked as he stepped into the room a few minutes later. “I know you must be upset. Bob doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Really?” Craig shot back angrily. “You’re going to try and pin this all on Bob?”

Rick paused for a second and then nodded in defeat. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve been out of line. Those things Bob said about the appetite stimulants and calorie boosters… that was all pretty much true,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Of course it was,” Craig sighed impatiently. “You think I didn’t know all that? I like fat guys. And you… you clearly like fat guys too. The whole feeding thing was just our quiet, kinky little game. But I didn’t think that was where our relationship started and ended. I thought you were in love with me.”

Rick looked hurt by the pain in Craig’s eyes. “I do love you!” he cried, stepping further into the room and kneeling by the side of the bed. “I just… I just let this whole kinky shit get the better of me. I watched Bob fatten up so many of his girlfriends, even when he was in high school, and I guess I let it all get into my head. Bob doesn’t understand real relationships. He’s just missing that little part in his brain. That’s the only reason why I don’t talk to him about all the mushy stuff between us.”

“Would you choose me over Bob?” Craig asked, having always felt secretly anxious that Rick’s cousin meant more to him than he did.

Rick sighed and dropped his gaze. “Of course I would. But you’ve got to understand. Bob was there for me at a very difficult time.” He sighed, as if about to relinquish the greatest secret of his entire life. “I didn’t always used to look this way. Back in high school… I was kinda… athletic,” he admitted begrudgingly.

At this, Craig couldn’t help but laugh a little. Of all the secrets that had come out that evening, this one hardly merited the gravity that Rick seemed to instill upon it. “I know,” he smirked. “Pam did mention it once or twice.”

Rick’s eyebrows rose up. Perhaps he had forgotten how much Pam liked to talk. “I hated it,” he grumbled. “I had this desire in me to grow and get fat. Yet no one around me could understand why I was having these feelings. No one… apart from Bob. We could talk for hours about it; this compulsion inside of us to get fat. I’d seen Bob doing it to himself after high school. It literally blew my mind! So when I finally got my job and was earning enough to pay Bob some rent money, I moved straight in here and followed in his footsteps. I lost my abs and packed on a belly in a matter of weeks. It was…” he sighed with pleasure, “the best feeling in the entire world!”

“But what about Geoff?” Craig asked next.

Rick scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Pam told you about him too, huh?” he whispered.

Craig shook his head, finally recounting the story of bumping into Rick’s ex, just as he should have done over eighteen months ago.

“So you knew all that, and yet you still stuck by me?” Rick asked in utter disbelief once Craig had finished, leaving nothing unsaid. “What the hell did I do to deserve you for two years? Ever since I was eighteen, I had Bob telling me that he was the only person in the whole world who would accept me for who I really was. Yet, there you were, standing by my side this whole time.”

“It’s a mess, isn’t it?” Craig sighed. They’d both been so immature about this whole situation; each of them holding pieces of the same jigsaw and not sharing. Only now could they piece them all together and see that they’d both only ever been completely happy.

“Do you still want to get a place with me?” Rick asked, allowing a little bit of hope to shine through his voice.

“I think so,” Craig nodded. “But… do you still want to make me fatter?” he asked in response.

Rick squirmed, being asked so directly about something he had concealed for so long. However, this was a fresh start: a time for them both to be honest with each other. “Yes,” he stated, knowing full well that it could be the end of his relationship. “I don’t think I’d ever want to stop fattening you up.”

Craig nodded. Finally, the truth had been revealed: the feeder, thoroughly exposed.

“Okay,” Craig sighed, bracing himself for what needed to happen next. “But we do this together from now on. We communicate. We say what we’re really feeling, when we feel it.”

Rick was nodding in complete agreement; the smile spreading across his broad face. This wasn’t the end after all. It was only the beginning.

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainerstory #gainerfic #gainer story #gayfeedee #gainerstories #gayfeeder #gainer fic

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azulpitlane · 6 months

Text

i wish you would I ln4

pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist

yourusername posted a story 2h ago

The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.

"Mason?"

"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."

Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.

"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.

"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."

You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.

As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.

"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."

"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."

"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."

"And um I have to ask,"

You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.

"What is it Mase?"

"Do you love him?"

You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.

"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."

"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."

You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.

Lando was freaking out.

He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?

He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?

Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.

"LANDOOOO! HI."

"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"

"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"

"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."

"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."

Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.

"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"

"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."

"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."

"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"

"Wait-"

She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.

Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.

"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"

"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."

"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? What article?"

"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."

Oh god.

Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages

YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message

Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages

Y/f/n 8 unread messages

The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.

"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.

"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."

"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"

"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."

You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.

"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."

"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"

"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."

"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."

"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."

"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."

"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"

"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?

"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?

"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."

"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"

Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.

"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

one week later

liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others

yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3

comments on this post have been limited

yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️

yourusername pls dont forget snacks

taylorswift need this new album right now

danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹

liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others

dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.

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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA

user2 team mason idc

user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)

user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.

user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry

user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁

notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh

tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris smau #mason mount x reader

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 4 months

Text

Pairing : Boyfriend!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : slight angst ; short but sweet and fluffy at the end ; Word Count : 1.3k Request : @kurolils : I just want something really really angsty w chan. so just maybe like, he's supper stressed and snaps at the reader and yk something very angsty, but obviously with a fluffy ending A/N : THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET TO AND I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT BUT I"M WRITING IT NOW!!! HIHIHI!!!

Preparing for a world tour, as exciting as it seems, was probably just as stressful, if not more stressful than working on an album, at least for Chan it was. He had to work on remembering all of the dances for the entire setlist, he had to think of what he’d say to all the STAYS, he had to remember all the lyrics to all the songs. There was so much to do, and it felt like there wasn’t enough time to get it all done.

The date of his departure for the first international part of the tour was quickly closing in, and of course, management was still against you going with him considering the news hadn’t broken yet that the two of you were dating. That was the hardest part of leaving for tours. He was leaving you behind, and while you were an absolute champ about it on the surface, he could read right through you and tell that you were upset.

That’s why he tried to spend as much time with you as possible before he had to leave, that’s what he usually did. He wasn’t sure why things felt more stressful than usual this time around, he wasn’t sure why it felt like the clock was working against him this entire time. All he did know was that there was so much to get done, and he didn’t need any distractions, he didn’t need anyone getting in his way.

“Still working, huh?” You said from the doorway, your hands shoved into the pockets of one of Chans oversized hoodies. He hummed in response, his eyes not even glancing up from the laptop screen as he sat at his desk. His headphones were on, but at least he had one ear uncovered so he could hear you. “I know you have to leave in a couple days… I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me or something? I really miss you already and… Just wanted to spend some time with you-”

“Shut up.” Chan mumbled, and your lips quickly pulled into a thin line, your eyes dropping to the ground, both embarrassed and upset from those two simple words. “As if I don’t have enough on my plate, now I’m expected to stop everything I’m doing to coddle you because you’re going to miss me. I mean… good god, Y/N, grow up. I’m not always going to be here, get used to watching movies by yourself. Damn.” He huffed before adjusting his headphones so that both ears were covered.

You didn’t even know what to say, you didn’t have anything to say anyway, you were trying not to cry, so you kept your head low and turned around, shutting the door behind you as you made your way to the couch. It’s not like you hadn’t seen Chan stressed before, it’s just that most of the time you were the one that would get him out of his funk. Now it seemed like you were the one stressing him out even more.

The rest of the day went by without any sort of interaction between the two of you. He’d leave the room to go to the bathroom or grab something to eat or drink, and then he’d quickly retreat back to his desk. You spent the evening sitting on the couch watching movies by yourself and scrolling through your phone to try to keep your mind off of what had happened.

You had made dinner, and not even the smell of a home-cooked meal had pulled him out from the bedroom, so you made enough for yourself before saving the leftovers in the fridge and eating all alone at the table. You made sure to clean it all before heading to the bathroom and washing up before going to bed. You thought that maybe at some point he would come out and apologize or something, but he didn’t. If it weren’t for the sound of keyboard typing and his mouse clicking rapidly it would feel like he wasn’t there at all.

The bed didn’t feel as empty as most people would assume it would feel, but that’s only because Chan rarely joined you in bed before you dozed off. The only difference is that this time you wondered if he’d join you at all. Would you feel the bed shift with his weight as he finally got under the covers at the crack of dawn or would he opt to sleep on the couch instead?

Your mind was full of thoughts, some good, some bad, most of them were bad though, and these were the thoughts that filled your subconscious, the thoughts that fueled your dreams tonight. He was getting tired of you. He thought you were annoying. You were a burden to him. All of these negative emotions played out in the most realistic scenarios in your dreams, and they felt so real in fact, that when you woke up, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. The emotions were overwhelming, that feeling of being unwanted by the only person you wanted was devastating.

You didn’t know how late it was or how early it was, and you had been sleeping so deeply that you hadn’t even felt Chan come into the room and get into the bed. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He whispered, having not even fallen asleep yet when you jumped up. Your sniffles were quiet, but in the silence of the room they sounded so loud.

“You don’t love me anymore…” Your whisper was choked out, and the sob that followed was heartbreaking for him to hear. He knew that he had been quite harsh and honestly, rather heartless when he had spoken to you earlier. That’s why he had kept his distance for the remainder of the day. He thought that that was what you’d needed, but he had been horribly wrong. “I’m… I’m annoying… and distracting…”

“Shh… baby, no…” Chan cooed, sitting up in the bed beside you and wrapping his arm around you to pull you against his side. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I was just stressed… I’ve got so much to do and… I shouldn’t take that out on you. It’s not your fault.” He used his other hand to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, and when he did he could see the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “I’m an asshole, aren’t I?”

You weakly nodded your head before resting it against his shoulder. “I don’t like watching movies by myself. That’s our thing… It was really lonely without you.” You mumbled, fiddling with the tag that hung off the blanket. “Am I too clingy? Do you want me to leave you alone?” You asked, and your body tensed up just enough for him to notice. You didn’t want to hear the answer, you were scared of it.

“Of course not! You cling to me just the right amount.” He joked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when you looked up at him with unamused eyes and a slight pout on your lips. “I love that you always want me around, it makes me feel loved. I don’t ever want you to leave me alone, because I don’t like watching movies by myself either. I’m not mad at you, I never was, and I never could be. So let’s get some sleep, I’ll have Changbin and Ji handle the rest of the setlist for the tour, and we can have a date day, the whole day tomorrow. You get my undivided attention. You deserve it.” His finger slid under your chin to tilt your head up, pressing his lips to yours, just long enough to have you melting against him and your mind clearing of any and every thought. “And just so you know… I already miss you too… And I miss you way more.”

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calummss · 7 months

Text

Mads Mikkelsen Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include

masterlist

the age gap i'm thinking of is 20-35 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!

you would probably meet randomly at a park, both of you walking alone and bumping into each other

let’s add the cliché where one of you is holding a cup of coffee and it goes everywhere, staining the two of you

instead of glares or words of anger, you both chuckle at each other and laugh, apologising with grins on your face

he offers you some money for new clothes but you deny

you start to talk and realise similar interest and it all kind of comes naturally

both of you had intentions of frienly acquaintances but slowly evolved into friends that went out for dinner or drink every couple of months

i feel like you would be the first to fall for him

you knew that he was significantly older than you but your heart saw right past that

mads never brought up the topic because he thought it would be weird and didn’t want to destroy the newly friendship

but one day you were bold enough to ask him if he thought of you more as a friend

he stumbled over his words a few times but ultimately admitted his affection for you

you kissed him to let him know you felt the same way

secretly knowing that mads was an actor, you approached the relationship carefully, always making sure that you were alone or not as seen to avoid paparazzi

which did not work because 5 months into the relationship a famous paparazzi released the pictures because he knew the age difference would cause a scandal

and you were right

newsites, twitter, every social media app was talking about it; his fans especially where halved. some backing up the relationship, others not

the two of you pulled away even more and stayed in his home in denmark

your parents contacted you after seeing you on the internet

they were weirded out who am i kidding?

they met him and talked

realised that you are in love and couldn’t really disagree because you’re both consenting adults but it took them a while to get adjusted

you spent the next couple of months doings various things:

baking (your mother’s blueberry and raspberry chocolate muffins)

walks in the park

snuggling up on the couch watching throwback movies

dancing to songs

your favourite being i wanna be yours by arctic monkey

and your favourite activity was mads bringing you breakfast to bed…

when everything died around your dating scandal, you slowly started to go out into the world again

mads bringing you as a date to an award show where he mentioned you in his winning speech

your relationship faces ups and downs but you know that it was meant to be

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nervoussagittarius · 2 months

Text

strike out

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: three times you try to get the attention of your boyfriend and one time he finally notices, but it’s to late. part two

warnings: swearing, major angst, kinda shitty boyfriend matt, break up

THE STREAMING INCIDENT

your day seemingly couldn’t have gotten worse. you started your morning with a flat tire. having to call a tow truck and an uber costing you a whopping three hundred dollars. you got to work and everything was going fine until you you cut your hand on a box opener causing you to have to get six stitches to your palm. all you wanted to do now was see your boyfriend and his brothers because you knew that could cheer you up.

walking up the stairs into the common area of the triplets house, you were already greeted with chris and nick. you could tell this is what you needed. you just needed to be around your favorite boys. “whoa kid what did you do to your hand?” chris exclaimed when he saw the blood covered gauze on your palm. “honestly chris i don’t really want to begin to talk about how shitty my day was,” you said with a chuckle, “but i cut it in a box opener at work and had to go get some stitches. no biggie.”

“no, that is a biggie,” nick said. “yeah just wait until matt finds out.” chris responds giving you a side hug. “we’re glad you’re okay now though. go get your man.”

with your spirits brightened you made your way to matt’s room. his lights were on and he was at his desk playing fortnite. you walked over to him with a smile etched on your face. once you got to him you put your arms around his shoulders from behind and rested your head on top of them. “hey i’m streaming,” he said gently removing you from him. he muted his mic for a minute telling the stream he’d be right back. your relationship was definitely no secret so him reacting this way was a bit confusing. he got up from his chair and pulled you out of frame from the stream. “i’m gonna be a little bit can you go wait in the living room?” before you got the chance to respond he was ushering you out of his room and closing the door in your face.

“hey what was that about?” chris asks from the couch. “no clue” you responded with a shrug.

a few hours went by with still no acknowledgement from matt. you decided you would say goodbye quick before heading home. you knocked on his door hearing a quick ‘come in’. opening the door to find him laying in bed. you were confused as to why he didn’t come out to see you or ask you to come sit with him, but you brushed it off.

“hey, i just wanted to let you know that i’m leaving.” you said with a smile that was quickly removed when matt barely noticed your presence. “matt?” he finally looked up. “i didn’t appreciate how you just barged into my room earlier. i was streaming and they didn’t have to see you all over me.” matt said raising his voice.

you were so incredibly shocked at his words that you were speechless. tears began to well up in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it won’t happen again.” you quickly made your way out of his room and past nick and chris not wanting to raise suspicions due to your state. you went home that night feeling utterly alone and confused. strike one.

THE PARTY

Tara’s parties had become the biggest events of the year. when the boys introduced you to tara you guys immediately hit it off, becoming basically inseparable. when tara asked you to host a party with her you knew it was an opportunity you couldn’t turn down.

since matt missed her one million party he promised to join you guys at this one. you guys had tara’s house completely decked out in black and pink decorations. the dj was beginning to play music and drinks were being poured. people filled in quickly, and you and tara began to make your rounds. saying hi to everyone, taking shots, and dancing.

you weren’t a big drinker. it was safe to say that you and the triplets were the four most sober people in tara’s house, but that didn’t stop you from questioning yourself when you thought your eyes were fooling you. there matt was against a back wall of the living room talking to some random girl. you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but you couldn’t help how your stomach turned in jealousy as you watched them.

matt was supposed to be by your side tonight. you knew he wasn’t the biggest partier but you figured he’d at least take comfort by you as you guys enjoyed yourselves. you quickly made your way to nick and chris. “hey who’s that girl matt’s with?” you questioned. the music was so loud it was hard to hear their response, they both made comments about how they didn’t know who she was either. “i’m going to go talk to him.”

you pushed through the crowd, being stopped multiple times to take pictures. you adjusted your dress and finally made it to matt. he stopped his conversation as you slid you hand down his arm into his. he hastily yanked his hand away throwing you for a loop. you quickly collected yourself. “hey, i don’t want to interrupt, but i was wondering is you wanted to dance with me.” before matt could comment the girl across from his spoke up. “if you didn’t want to interrupt then why did you?” she asked with an attitude.

not wanting to get into a fight you simply scoffed and walked away. your heart broke a little bit when matt didn’t come after you. instead he went back to his conversation and you went to a bottle of vodka. strike two.

THE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY

after your past two humiliating bad encounters, matt had become more and more distant with you. months had gone by where you felt like you were walking on eggshells everytime you were around him. some days he was your normal happy matt, but most days he was miserable and tired and mean. he made everything bad in his life your fault. you tried not to overthink it. everyone has bad days, but matt’s been having bad months and it’s starting to take a toll on you.

today was yours and matt’s two year anniversary. you were so excited but you couldn’t help but feel hesitant. you didn’t know what kind of mood matt was going to be in today. he had been in meetings with nick and chris that morning, but nick let you know that they were done at 2 so matt had agreed to meet you at 7.

these plans had been set in stone for weeks if not a month. you even reminded matt about it the night before to make sure he was still okay with the itinerary. you somehow had managed to get reservations to matt’s favorite restaurant and the place you had your first date. places like this booked out months in advance so you had stocked the waiting list for this exact day to open up. after that you guys were going to go to the theater. matt wasn’t a huge theater fan but he agreed because he knew how much you loved it, and because you made the dinner reservation based around him. it seemed only fair.

you left your house at 6:30 sending matt a quick text that you were heading to the restaurant, making it there just in time for your reservation. matt not being on time was unusual. so when you arrived before him it was a little shocking. you sent him another text asking him if he was on his way as the waiter brought you over to your table.

after an hour, 10 texts, 2 phone calls, and still no response from matt, the waiter came back over to your table politely asking you to leave as others were waiting to be seated. you couldn’t tell him no. even though you really wanted to keep waiting for matt you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show. you knew how hard it was to get a seat in this restaurant so you weren’t going to take that away from a happy couple who would enjoy it.

the tears didn’t come until you were safely in the car and out of the view of the public. you felt embarrassed. you had just been stood up by your boyfriend of two fucking years. you didn’t understand what had happened.

you tried calling him again from your car. it didn’t even ring this time. you were sent straight to voicemail. the tears came faster and the sobs became louder as you watched the sunset from your window. you decided calling chris might give you the best chance of reassurance. unlike your call to your boyfriend, chris picked up instantly. “hey kid! what’s up?aren’t you with matt for your anniversary?” chris’s energy seemed slightly draining to you in this moment. you tried to think of ways to respond without completely bashing his triplet brother out of the pain you were feeling. “actually that’s why i’m calling you… matt didn’t show up. i was wondering if you’ve seen or heard from him at all.” there was a brief moment of silence from chris as he tried to process the information he was just given. last he knew matt was with you, but as he made his way upstairs he realized matt was still in his room. “hey y/n/n, matt’s still in his room let me see what he’s doing. mute yourself for a sec, okay?”

you listened carefully to their conversation as you realized matt had no intentions meeting you tonight. “hey matt! what are you doing tonight?” “i’m going to that party with paige.” the mention of another girls name made your stomach turn. you didn’t want to believe matt was cheating on you. “what about y/n? wasn’t your anniversary thing tonight?” chris was trying to get the most information out of matt and you were internally grateful.

“i don’t know chris. i tuned her out months ago. she’s so needy. it’s not like i’m cheating on her i just need some space.” that’s when you decided you’d heard enough. you can’t believe the things matt’s said, but his words did match his actions so you weren’t totally surprised. one thing about matt was that he was always honest. even if it was at the expense of another.

you drove home that night in silence. hurt by matt, mad at yourself, and in shock at the world. strike three.

THE HALF-ASSED APOLOGY

since your anniversary date with matt that he blew off, you’ve decided to give him the space he apparently wants. even after a month, you still hadn’t heard anything from him. not a text, not a call, not even a lousy snapchat.

you had heard from nick and chris though. they were disappointed in matt, to say the least. as much as you wanted to be petty and still hangout with those two you knew it wasn’t right. they shouldn’t have to pick sides between their friend and their brother. family comes first, and that’s what you told them when they came over to your house begging you to come talk to matt. you stopped responding to them after that night.

since it had been a quite few weeks, you established a new routine that was the rotation of work and home. you know you shouldn’t have, but you watched every video the triplets had put out. your focus was always drawn to matt. you tried to pinpoint if there was a shift in his attitude or if he seemed different. it hurt when you realized he seemed happier.

you had just gotten home from work when you were making dinner and there was an interruption in your routine. a knock came to your front door. when you looked out and saw matt you were shocked. you could’ve never expected this. you spent the first two weeks of your separation wishing and hoping matt would show up at your front door, but now you don’t know if you want to hear what he has to say.

you quickly fixed your posture as you opened the front door. you wanted to look like you had your shit together even though you were slowly falling apart. matt spoke first, “can i come in?” you didn’t know if any words would come out if you even attempted to open your mouth so you opted to just open the door wider allowing him entrance.

“i wanted to come talk to you. i hadn’t heard from you in a while so i thought i’d come check up on you.” matt seemed so oblivious and this made you angry. you could feel the pain and frustration bring tears to your eyes. you were no longer crying out of sadness.

“matt…i’m going to be so for real with you right now.” you paused to take a deep breath. you were trying so hard to keep your composure. “i genuinely don’t know what’s going through your head. how can you sit here and say you want to check up on me when i haven’t heard a peep out of you for a month matt. a fucking month.” “i know i’m sorry-” “i’m not done. you abandoned me on our anniversary to go to some random assholes party with a girl you barely know. you told chris that you didn’t care about us and that i was needy.” he looked at you in surprise and you could tell there was a slight hint of shame in his eyes. “yeah i new about that.” you added.

you kept going, you had so much pent up frustration with matt that you couldn’t hold in your feelings anymore. “for months i let go of the yelling and the bad moods just for you to turn around and go off with other girls. how is that fair? how did you sit at home for a month and not wonder what your girlfriend was doing? you haven’t heard from me because you wanted space, but i also don’t remember hearing from you either.” you were so upset that you were basically hyperventilating. matt grabbed your hand and used his other to wipe your face. “you have to breath, sweetheart. can you please breath for me?” matt asks. you push him off of you him a frenzy. you ran your hands through your hair giving him a teary laugh. “can i do it for you?” you asked. matt felt that in this moment if looks could kill he’d be dead. “i’m done doing anything for you. if the past month wasn’t any indication, we’re done.” “no y/n you don’t mean that.” he tried walking over to you but you put your hand up signaling for him to stay back. “y/n i am so sorry for everything. please you just have to give me another chance. i promise i can be better.” you chose not to acknowledge him anymore. the back and forth wasn’t going to get you anywhere. you silently walked over to your door and opened it. matt looked at you with a pleeding look before inevitably giving in, leaving your house. you slammed the door behind him falling into it as tears streamed down your face. you’re out.

an: my own feelings have been hurt by this one.

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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fraugwinska · 2 months

Note

Hello, wait are your requests open? 😅

If yes - i have an idea? :)

Per Charlie's decision everyone goes out for a night out in the town. You stay at the hotel as you weren't feeling well. Thinking the hotel is empty you carelssly leave your room and head to the bar and lounge area. To your surprise it's already occupied - Alastor is drinking whisky and listening to jazz on his old radio. He is already tipsy as he starts slowly dancing with himself. You don't want to interrupt but before you can go back he calls to you and asks if you want to join him. I just really need some tipsy and more relaxed Alastor thay slowly openes up to the reader. Bonus scene: you two fall asleep on the couch and wake up to the whole group staring at you two with the wildests reactions lol

This was such a cute prompt - Thank you for suggesting this, dear Anon! It's a little shorter, but I really like it - hope you do too! :>

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

More than words

Thirsty. You are thirsty.

That's the first thought you had when you woke up from your nap. Hell really had eternal suffering, with migraines being just as annoying and painful in hell as they were on earth. You had woken up with pain behind your eyes, and you knew in that exact moment you had to tell Charlie you wouldn't be able to go out tonight, because knowing yourself it would last the whole day and leave you exhausted by the evening.

You peeled yourself out of bed, realizing with relief that the pain and the dull pressure were gone almost completely. One or two glasses of water and a strong espresso, and maybe you were even able to get a good night's sleep. So you threw a cozy, fuzzy cardigan over you and headed to the kitchen. You had expected creepy silence, since it didn't happen often that everyone went out all at once, so you were surprised to hear the faint sounds of pianos, trumpets and drums when you were halfway down the staircase. Maybe Charlie or Husk had left the radio on? Without real reason to you tiptoed the last steps down, peeking around the corner of the corridor leading to the bar. What you saw made you both speech- and breathless.

Alastor, with a glass of whiskey in hand, humming along to Boogie Man by Sid Phillips, eyes closed and dancing just for himself – tipsy, slightly uncoordinated swing steps that might've looked impressive if he wasn't... drunk? At least a bit buzzed, that was for sure.

You watched him in fascination, tapping and twirling, while you contemplated what to do. The only way to the kitchen was through the foyer, which meant you had to pass the bar, ergo Alastor. But you weren't sure how much he would appreciate you catching him in this... state. Yes, you were on good terms, you would even go as far to say you were friends, but that stage of relationship was far too fresh to risk changing it by angering him. You decided that your bathroom sink had to provide the much needed water and fuck the espresso, you turned around to sneak back to your room.

„Oh, I didn't know there was an audience for my show!“

Fuck.

You glanced over your shoulder – Alastor looked you straight in the eye, swaying a bit, grin loose and eyes a little clouded. He sounded more amused than angry, something you didn't expect, but were fucking grateful for.

„Sorry, Al... I didn't think you were home, I just wanted to get some water and head back to my room.“ „Ah,“ Alastor took a sip of his drink, golden brown liquid leaking from the corners of his mouth down to his chin. With careless fingers he wipes it away. „So eager to leave little ol' me hanging...“ He pouted. Alastor, the radio demon pouted. You asked yourself if you might have migraine-incited hallucinations.

„Alastor, are you... okay?“, you ask, carefully turning to him.

„Fantastic dear, just fantastic.“, he muttered, eyeing his now empty glass, „Although drinking in company would certainly be more pleasurable than drinking alone.“

He walked back behind the bar, steps still a little wobbly, and poured himself another, giving you an opportunity. It was the deers crude way of handing you the choice - You could leave now, if you wanted.

Instead, you wrapped the cardigan tighter around yourself, suddenly very aware of your lack of decorum, and with a few steps, you were in front of him, sliding onto one of the stools. Alastor tilted his head at you as you leaned on the counter, both elbows on the slightly sticky surface and face in your hands, sighing.

„Alright tapper, as long as you don't bring my headache back, pour it away.“

----------------------------***----------------------------

„... and wouldn't you believe it, the next time this idiot saw me he just ripped off his whole arm and threw it at me!“

Alastor laughed, loudly and boastfully, slapping his thighs. You joined in with your own laughter, more like a cackle, tongue and restraint loosened by his choice of drink for you – mint julep, apparently one of the only cocktails he knew how to mix, being a favourite from his time in the 1920's. The fresh and cooling drink went easily down your tongue, and both of you had been chatting away for the last hour, mostly Alastor telling you funny anecdotes and you laughing at his stories till your mouth went dry.

While you drank slowly, Alastor rushed every drink down his throat like a parched man. With wonder you watched him, amazed by how much he could take, word unslurred and speech still crisp and transatlantic. The only indicator of his drunkenness: his choice of words became more and more crass. It made you giggle uncontrollably whenever he used profanities that were so unlike him.

“Can you blame him? That poor man probably didn’t want you to rip it off again - might just do it himself and save the trouble!” “I didn’t even get to the best part, darling - He owned a fucking second hand shop! Ha Ha HA!” He bellowed with laughter,looking more like a mischievous school-boy than a terrifying overlord and you slapped his arm. “Alastor, stop, you’re making this up!” “Absolutely not, it’s the irony that makes the story even more comical.”

You shook your head, stirring the mint leaves in your glass.He was much more easy-going than normal, his cheeks tinted in a pretty shade of red. The biggest difference was his everlasting smile. Tight and wide normally, it had become a loose, content one, playful without the malice it usually carried. He looked even more handsome that way.

“A penny for your thought, cherie.”, he chuckled, arms crossed on the countertop and leaning in closely. The proximity brought the smell of bourbon, warm wood and nutmeg with hints of vetiver. The stronger version of his natural scent. Tasty. The thought shuddered through your mind and you swallowed it quickly with the rest of your own drink. “I just thought about a Chaplin quote that came to mind.” He leaned on his hand, blinking in curiosity, half-lidded eyes telling you to continue - you and him had a thing for his movies, you've watched City Lights together multiple times. “A man's true character comes out when he's drunk.” You mirrored his gesture with a smile of your own, bringing your face even closer to his, which seemed to startle him. “And I gotta say it’s a shame you’re not drunk more often.”

Alastor pulled back, grasping for the whiskey bottle as he avoided your gaze. You were confused - had you offended him? You sat yourself upright, ready to apologize, when he cut you off.

“Better not to reveal this kind of secret to just everyone, my dear. It’s only the ghost of a man long gone, anyways.” He sighed at the bottle in his hands, realizing it was empty. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Please, you may tell that yourself but I’m not a medium. That man isn’t gone. He's only hiding, deep down in there.”

Foolishly your brain didn’t remind you that Alastor didn’t like to be touched. You reached out, putting your hand flat at his chest, right where his heart would be. As for Alastor, his alcohol-dazed mind couldn’t catch up with what you were doing fast enough. Your palm pressed down, receiving the soothing, soft warmth he always radiated through your sensitive skin, like an old radio that had been left on for too long. His eyes widened, you felt him inhale sharply, yet it took another few seconds for him to react, flinching back.

His barstool wobbled, swinging dangerously, and like in slow-motion he fell backwards, only letting out a small, ulfiltered “Shit!” before he disappeared behind the bar. You jumped up, stuttering “Sorry, sorry, oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” while you hurried behind the bar to help him up. He was sprawled out on the floor, almost like a starfish, his chest shaking and an arm thrown over his face. “Alastor, I’m so sorry, are you hurt? Did you hit your head? Fuck, I’m so….”, you stopped abruptly when he burst out laughing. He wheezed, shaking with laughter, and you fell to your knees beside him, relieved and at the same time unnerved. He sat up, still holding his chest with one hand and patting your head with the other.

“Moments like these remind me why I like you so much, darling. Such a blue-eyed, air-headed doe you are.” You met his gaze, ready to banter, but the sad tint in his expression made you decide against that. Instead you shuffled nearer to him, slowly sitting up on your knees, to give him the option to push you away. He didn’t, only watching you closely. You wrapped your arms around his head, pulling him close, his cheek resting on your chest, tight enough he had to hear your heartbeat.

You held him like this until you felt his hands on your back, returning the embrace. HIs breath was warm and heavy on your skin. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was holding back tears. Maybe he was. You just stayed like this, holding him in your arms. Words were unnecessary, unwanted even. Him and you weren’t close enough yet to bring everything he should share into words. But you would be there, whenever that moment came, and for now, this was the right way to express what couldn’t be said. Much more even.

When he pulled away, he did it gently, a soft and thankful smile on his lips. “I think the bar has run dry, my dear.” He stood up, offering you his hand to help you up. You took it, and he left your hand in his as you stood face to face. “How about a warm nightcap to end our day?” ----------------------------***----------------------------

“... You are seeing this too, right? I’m not trippin’?!” “Shhhh! Don’t wake them up.” Charlie hissed at Angel, her eyes round like saucers, staring over the backrest, as did the others. “How can this creep still smile even when he’s sleeping?!”, Vaggie whispered loudly. Angel gave her a sly smile. “You’d smile too if a hot girl slept in your lap like that.” Husk groaned, pulling a paw over his face. “It’s too late and I’m too sober for this shit.” “SSSSSSSHHHHHH! Leave them alone, go! Go to bed, quietly, all of you!”, Charlie shushed them again, shooing them away from the sofa.

She quickly ran to the nearest cabinet, pulling out a thick blanket which she carefully draped over your and Alastors body. She took a few heartbeats to internalize what she everyone saw when they came home.

You looked like a couple. Of course Charlie knew you weren’t. Alastor - half-laying, half-sitting asleep on the sofa - had his arm around you, his head resting on the top of your head. You were serenely slumbering while nuzzled against his chest, legs pulled up and looking like you were mended to his side. You, too, were smiling. On the cofffee table in front of the sofa were two cups of what looked and smelled like hot milk with honey, the porcelain still faintly warm to the touch and the liquid barely touched. She suppressed the squeal she wanted to squeal.

After she was done, she quietly took a few steps back, scanning that you were both still fast asleep, then she took Vaggie’s hand and together they headed to their own room. Charlie knew you weren’t a couple. But she also knew that was only a matter of when you would become one, not if.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #angel dust #charlie morningstar #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust

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finelinevogue · 6 months

Text

a winter solstice like no other

summary - exchanging on winter solstice gifts leads to new revelations

pairing - azriel x reader

word count - ~2k

It was the night before Winter Solstice.

The house was full of laughter and love as fae’s alike drank mulled wine and snacked on Christmas puddings.

There was an air of happiness that hadn’t been around for the longest time. It was peaceful and comforting. Family was important sound this time of year and you were glad you had a good one to spend it with.

You were quite happily sitting in the corner sofa, tucked under a blanket you had knitted, drinking hot cocoa whilst the others danced near the log burning fire.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You turned to see Azriel ask you for a seat next to you.

“Of course. You don’t have to ask, Az.” You smiled at him, pulling the blanket back so he could sit down.

His large frame took up most of the rest of the sofa, so you threw the blanket over the top of you to keep you nice and warm.

“How are you enjoying this year’s Winter Solstice?” He asked you.

“Better than last year.”

Last year had been a truly sad one for you; spending it alone in a home that wasn’t even yours anymore. The war had taken everything from you, but in return it gave you this wonderful family and more than several places to call home.

It was Azriel who had found you cold and alone, and it was Azriel who took you to his family when you need people the most.

Everyone had warmly greeted you.

You had never expected to find another family.

And you certainly had never thought you’d find your mate because of it.

But here Azriel was. Your mate.

Your mate who didn’t know he was yours.

Every moment you spent close to him, you wondered how he couldn’t possibly feel the magic that you felt for him. His eyes didn’t light the same for you as yours did for him, which is the only way you knew he didn’t know yet.

You didn’t want to force him into something that he wasn’t ready for, though. Especially when he clearly had some feelings for Elain.

The three brothers and three sisters seemed destined to be, and yet you had mated to Azriel. There was almost an element of being terrified that you’d ruined a natural order if you accepted the bond between you and Azriel when Elain was right there.

“Present time!” Cassian cheered, breaking you from your thoughts.

Cassian jumped over the back of the sofa to land next to his mate; Nesta.

“You imbecile.” Nesta punched him when he knocked the wine in her hands onto her leggings.

“I love you too.” Cassian kissed her head in return, making everyone chuckle.

Everyone had their presents under the tree already, but you had left yours upstairs just because you didn’t want to intrude on their space.

You pulled the blanket off you and stood up, Azriel’s hand catching you and making you jolt with electricity.

“You okay?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Yes.” You chuckled at his worry, “Just going to get some things. Save me a seat.”

“I will.” He let go of your hand and you went off.

Your room was tucked in a small corner of the house, as you didn’t want to take up too much room. A lot of the rooms had already been taken so there wasn’t much choice, but your room was beautiful nonetheless.

It overlooked the mountains of Velaris and into the valley below. If you ever needed a reminder of how lucky you were, all you had to do was look out your window.

You picked up your presents in your room, collecting them in your arms. You tried to juggle them as you went to open the door, only for them to spill on to the floor and go everywhere.

“Oh, Mother above.” You mumbled, picking them all up again.

Once you had made your way downstairs, you re-entered the living room only to find your seat next to Azriel taken.

Elain had joined him.

Azriel didn’t look overly happy that she was there and he kept playing with a loose thread on the blanket you’d made as a distraction.

No matter, you smiled as you entered and handed out gifts to everyone.

Everyone thanked you as you passed out their respective gifts.

“You didn’t have to do this, Y/N.” Rhys spoke. “I haven’t been able to offer you the full wage you deserve this year.”

“And you’ve apologised for that countless times, Rhys. Yet, you forget you don’t charge me rent here so I don’t mind spending my wages on you and your family.” You handed him his gift.

“We’re your family too, remember.” Feyre smiled and thanked you as you gave her hers.

“I know. I wake up grateful every day.” You reshuffled the gifts to get a second for Feyre, “And an extra something for your birthday.”

“You are bad, Y/N… I told you not to.” Feyre tutted you.

“You deserve it.”

“Y/Ns right, darling.” Rhys kissed Feyre’s forehead.

You wandered back to Azriel and Elain, only holding one more gift.

“Oh.. Mother…” You started to swear.

“What is it?” Azriel asked.

“I must’ve dropped your gift on the way downstairs Az. I’m sorry, I’ll just…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You can pass it me later.”

“You sure?” You asked, feeling bad.

“Mhm.” He warmly smiled and leant back into the sofa.

You handed Elain her gift, before rounding the room to sit on the window seat just to the side of the room. You would’ve sat on a sofa, but there was no room left and you were the last to join the inner circle so it only made sense.

“Are we ready?” Cassian asked, looking around the room. “Then let’s go!”

Everyone began unwrapping, oohing and awwing over their gifts.

“Y/N..!”” Rhys laughed.

You smiled brightly as you noticed Rhys had opened his gift. You knew that he had been complaining that his feet had been getting so cold recently, so you had decided to knit him some slipper socks. They were in a gorgeous black with silver blobs that were meant to look like stars.

“Are they okay?” You asked shyly.

This was your first year of gift giving and you didn’t want to do it wrong.

“Perfect! Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Just a tiny thank you for helping me this past year.”

“You know we don’t need your thanks, Y/N, but you’re welcome anyways.”

As they continued opening presents and you opened yours, everyone was grateful and happy. Cassian was miffed that he got gag-gifts, but then again he hadn’t bought anything serious for anyone else.

You got to your gift from Azriel and stopped before you could tear, setting it to the side.

You looked up to Azriel and he was frowning at you, possibly thinking you didn’t care to open his gift. You gave him your kind eyes before he could think further.

“I’ll wait for you.” You mouthed across the room.

He smiled and nodded in agreement.

His gaze was broken from you as Elain nudged him to open her gift for him.

He slowly unwrapped the gift and everyone stopped to see what had made him gasp.

He slowly pulled out a Sapphire gem. A real and rare one. It was a gem that was meant to fit perfectly into his Truthteller blade.

“W-wow.” He raised his eyebrows in shock.

“I saw it the other day and just knew it was for you!” Elain giggled.

“This is far too much.” He shook his head.

“Oh please… It’s barely anything.”

You gulped at the site. If Elain thought that was nothing then your gift for him was truly worthless.

A rare gem? There was no competition, but if there were then Elaine would have won before you’d even started.

You wished more than anything that you could afford a lovely present like that for Az, but your money was often spent elsewhere through charity or simple living bills.

Everyone looked upon the two of them carefully.

Feyre knew that Azriel was your mate because you were making yourself miserable by keeping it to yourself, which obviously meant that Rhys had to know. So they didn’t look too comfortable with the gift exchange.

Rhys was trying to contact you through his mind tricks, but you didn’t let him. Not because you didn’t care, but because you knew you’d be upset the moment he tried to console you.

Whilst Elain and Az continued to have their moment, your own heart breaking a little, you quietly made your way out of the room.

You ran upstairs as quick as you could and shut your bedroom door behind you.

Opening the window, you stuck your head outside and let out a big breath - letting everything go. You felt like you could cry, but nothing good would come of that so you tried to console yourself the best you could with the fresh air and view of Velaris below.

“You o–”

“Mother of…” You turned around so quickly that you hit the side of your head on the glass window.

“Oh Gods, Y/N!” Az exclaimed as he shut the door behind him and ran over to you.

His hands took ahold of your face carefully, tilting your head to the side where you’d hit it. Instead of a pink mark, he noticed the tears instead.

“Hey, what’s with the tears?” He softly asked, wiping a thumb over your soft cheek.

“Sorry!” You laughed, “It’s been a bit much today already.”

“Tell me about it.” He answered sarcastically, before continuing. “I mean… a sapphire?” He whispered the last bit.

“Oh.. Yes. That - uhm - that was very thoughtful of Elain.” You took a step back from Azriel, wiping under your eyes.

You leant back against the windowsill and looked towards Azriel. He was carefully watching you like he didn’t quite understand something about you.

“What?” You asked.

“I have something for you.” He said, sitting back on your bed. He patted the spot next to you and you - not too eagerly - went and sat next to him.

He handed over a small blue wrapped box, as delicately wrapped as a professional would have done.

“It better not be a sapphire.” You joked.

“Oh better give it back then.” He tried to reach back for it, but you laughed and pulled it away. Turning back, you didn’t expect him to still be so close.

The bond inside of you was fluttering like a billion butterflies wings. You cleared your throat and looked down at the gift again, making Azriel lean back a bit.

You carefully opened it and found the box beneath the paper. It had a little infinity sign engraved in silver on the top of it.

You furrowed your eyebrows and swallowed back the growing lump at the back of your throat.

“Az…”

He stayed quiet.

“T.. This is from the ‘Bonded Mates’ gift shop.”

“I know.”

You gulped and turned towards him, tears in your eyes as the warmth in your chest started growing and growing. Your heart felt like it was growing three sizes and your chest was being directly pulled towards his.

“You… You know.” You let out a soft sob.

Azriel’s tears built up in his own eyes, “I do.” He nodded, confirming what you thought.

“Az.. For how long?”

“Since the day I met you.”

You let out another sob, feeling slightly more than overwhelmed right now. You nodded your head continued to look into his eyes, seeing your other half look back at you.

“You never said. I thought you liked Elain.”

“I must admit, even I thought I liked Elain at the very beginning, but I slowly realised I was only trying to like her for the sake of the ‘three brother’s and three sisters’ hypothesis. In reality, all I felt was a tug towards you and every day since I have tried my best to not overwhelm you because all I want to do is bond with you.”

“You knew! All this time.” You cupped his cheek and he leant into it willingly.

“Yeah.”

You leaned closer to him and his face, “So did I.” Azriel smiled so widely at that, “And I accept you. For infinity.”

“And I accept you, for anything and beyond infinity.”

His lips touched yours before you could even take a breath. You chest tugged towards his and your heart felt like it was overloaded with love and power. You felt yourself literally tether to Azriel and it was quite possibly the best feeling in the world.

Before you could both get carried away you pulled back.

“Wait, wait, wait…” You gasped.

“What?” Azriel looked concerned.

“Your gift!” You stood up, wiping under your eyes yet again.

“Oh screw the gifts.” He tugged on your hand so you fell back on the bed, back laying flat.

Azriel creeped over you and held his weight up above you.

“Az!” You laughed. “Get off, you big brute!”

You tried to push him off but he was as steady as a mountain. He couldn’t be moved and you accepted your defeat with a huff and a smile, allowing him to watch you.

He was quiet for a moment, no telling why he pulled you back. It seemed like he was simple mesmerised with every detail of you.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m just grateful that it was you.”

You knew the ‘it’ in question was the bond and you had to gulp back another set of fresh tears.

Instead, you leaned up and kissed him again. Softly pressing your lips into his and kissing him like he deserved to be kissed. He’d been waiting, what felt like an eternity, so might as well show him why he was made to wait all this time.

You moved back down but Azriel followed you. His arms cupped themselves over your head and encased you beneath his wholly.

He didn’t let his lips free from yours, not even for one breath. You both felt like you were each other’s air. Azriel kissed and kissed you like he would never get to kiss you like this again, even though it was your first time.

“Az..” You tried to pull away again.

“Try and stop me from kissing you again and see what happens.” He warned you, and you responded by tugging his hair at the back of his neck. He moved back at the flinch of pain.

“Listen to me.” You smiled.

“No.”

And he leant back down to start kissing you again, moving his lips in such a way that you were starting to forget everything other than him.

You sneakily moved your hand up beneath his caged arms and attempted to capture his cheeks to stop him, but his shadows already knew your plans and caught your arm along the way. The shadows pinned your arm up behind your head and you huffed into your kiss.

“I don’t know whether to be offended that you keep wanting to get away from me, or not.” Az stopped kissing you to speak.

“You should. I want my gift.” You pouted.

“Oh. Do you now? Well I want to kiss my mate to make up for all our lost years, so I guess I’ll just do that instead.” He was about to lean back down to you but his shadows held him back instead. “What?”

“Seems they can listen to my thoughts now. Now stand down, Sir.”

He didn’t get much of a choice as his shadows pulled you off him and allowed you to slip away.

“You little demons.” Az groaned but allowed them to anyways, because it was worth seeing the smile as your opened your gift.

It was the daintiest bracelet you’d ever seen with a tiny little dagger charm on it. You absolutely loved it and were more happy to receive this than a thousand chariots of gold.

“Thank you. Put it on for me, please.”

You held out the bracelet and your wrist to Azriel and he carefully took both and put it on. It looked perfect against your skin and Azriel couldn’t help but smile that a little part of him was worn by you.

“Beautiful.” He said, kissing the back of your hand.

“It is. You chose well.”

“I honestly didn’t think this would have gone as well at it has. I was starting to think you’d never feel the bond.”

“The feelings mutual, darling.” You chuckled. “Now!”

You started rummaging around the room to find Az’s gift. You looked everywhere until you found it rolled away, tucked in a corner.

You grabbed it and walked over to Azriel. You stood in front of him as you handed it over.

“Happy Solstice.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” He said before opening it gently, savouring the time and effort you put into the wrapping.

As he opened it, you remembered how insignificant it was compared to Elain’s gift.

“Now, I know it’s nothing too extraordinary but I know how sensitive your hands get in the cold so I…”

“You knitted me fingerless gloves?” Az held up the deep blue coloured gloved, the tips of the fingers missing. There was a mitten like part to it that could fold over the fingers should he wish to keep them warm.

“I know it’s not a sapphire, but…”

“It’s not.” He said and you nodded, “It’s better.”

The smile on your face was unmistakable and he wanted to see you smile like that every damn day for the rest of your existence.

“Okay.” You said, trying to believe him.

“No, come here.” He pulled on the back of your waist until you toppled into him and straddled him on his lap. “It’s better. Best gift ever and not just because it came from you. It was so thoughtful. Thank you.”

You leant forwards to kiss his inviting lips.

And not for the last time, that was now for certain.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel blurbs #azriel acotar blurbs #azriel acotar fic #azriel fic rec #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses

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liveontelevision · 9 days

Note

Hello hello! If you are still taking requests I've been dying for an Alastor x reader where the reader was married to him when he was alive, and she outlives him quite a while before they reunite in hell, only for him to nearly die again when the angels attack. I love your work!

I've been wanting to do this prompt for a hot minute, sorry it took so long Anon :')

But here's a good long fluffy, angsty, fic to balance out how much of an ass Alastor is in Suffer lol

Curiosity Killed the Cat | Reader x Alastor

What caught your eye first, was how much whiskey he could down before losing his composure. You found yourself in awe, watching this charismatic stranger go round after round, only to end up on the dance floor with more energy than you had when you were sober. Truly a spectacle. Why don't you go tell him that?

"Excuse me-" You say in a sing-song voice, slipping by the stranger to beckon another drink your way. You may or may not have brushed your body against him in some sort of attempt to get his attention. It went unnoticed, but that's alright, that trick didn't usually work on the ones who had one too many drinks.

You decide the next best action is to sit at the seat next to him, despite there being multiple unoccupied stools at the bar. That’s something he has to question, right?

Of course not. You spent far too long trying to get his attention in any way, and he's either humming a song to himself or chatting with the plump, noisy, owner who would come by. They seemed to be close friends.. but she definitely wasn't his type. She looks like one to cause trouble.

You get a good scope of his character. He came in wearing a pristine trenchcoat, shielding an expensive-looking vest and tie combo. But, by now the tie had come undone and was draped across his neck. The heat of the whiskey might've gotten to him, he left his top few buttons precariously opened. You didn't mind that one bit. Next thing you spot; slightly messed hair and smudged glasses- bingo.

"Hey, birdy-" you finally muster some courage to get his attention. "-may I?" You pull out a handkerchief you usually have on hand, in case handsome strangers with glasses need a quick clean. It took you a good half hour to finally speak up, but he's looking you up and down as if you had just walked in. It takes a moment, but you see him finally decide you aren't a threat. He sits silently. Taking another swig of his drink, he looks at you with a smile. Does he want you to.. no harm in trying.

You bite at your lip, hesitantly reach out to his face, and carefully pluck the glasses from the bridge of his nose. He shuts his eyes as you do so. A man hasn't made you blush in quite some time. You decide to blame the drinks. Luckily, you have a task to keep your mind preoccupied. You're carefully swiping any smudges clear from the lenses when you hear his voice for the first time. Or so you thought.

"Mimzy, dear, do tell me who this little kitten here is. A regular?" You're assuming he's speaking about you, he's gesturing in your direction with his empty glass. The owner of the speak-easy, who you now know as Mimzy, trots behind the bar to top off his drink.

"For sure! What do ya say, kid, you're here.. on most weekends, ain't ya?" She turns to you, and you take a moment to confirm. You didn't think she'd notice, you don't come here that often. That's what you tell yourself at least.

"Got an eye on her tonight, Al? Sounds like someone's not goin' home alone~" She teases him with a quick jab, and he's quick to roll his eyes.

"Now now, she's been perched here for quite a while and has barely said a word to me, I doubt she's getting any more than a free drink." He sounds snarky, yet.. familiar..

"Al… as in Alastor? That radio host fellow? Well, I’ll be damned! I wasn't expecting a celebrity such as yourself to frequent little joints like this one." You comment, finally joining the conversation. You hear a throat being cleared dramatically and turn to the owner behind the bar. You laugh nervously.

"Not that- it's still a good bar- I.. Sorry." Good recovery. Your attention is taken to the hand outstretched to you, and you instinctively lean away from it.

"Kitten-" He beckons his hand, and you follow his eyes to his glasses that were still in your grasp. You let yet another nervous laugh and quickly pass them over. He slips them on with a satisfied hum.

"If I remember correctly, Al-" you attempt to mock the nickname you picked up from Mimzy. "- You have a broadcast tomorrow morning, no? You really think drinking like a sailor tonight is the best idea?" You weren’t concerned, really. You wanted to tease him a bit longer.

"Props to you for knowing my schedule." You realize how strange that might've sounded and quickly finish your drink to prevent any more embarrassing thoughts from slipping from your lips. "Are you implying I can't handle my liquor, dear?" He scoffs, beckoning the bartender over. He has them refill your glass.

"I'm sure you can, birdy, but you've been pounding down more drinks than I can count." You respond. You weren't one to flirt effectively. That, or he just happens to see right through your nerves.

"So, you've been counting, hm?" You realize you had outed yourself to watching him all night. You curse yourself quietly, hoping the music filling the room will cover your frustration. "Appreciate the concern, but I promise you, I'm more than capable of doing my job. No matter the circumstances."

While he seemed to be reading you quite easily, you had picked a few things up yourself. For one, he watches everything. And he seems to only drop his intel when he needs to. Or to mock you. And two, he's a bit of a narcissist.. quite an ego on this one. But that could work in your favor tonight.

"Well, fine then. I'll be up bright and early to listen to your broadcast. I doubt you can get through it with a hangover. Especially considering how much you've been drinking." You state proudly. He lets out a chuckle, and despite how quiet it is, you can't help but appreciate his sultry laugh.

"Is that a challenge, kitten?" He purrs -ha- leaning his chin into his hand and slouching his body towards the bar.

"I mean if it is, there must be stakes." You say it as a matter of fact. "Let's say.. you cover my bill next time if I catch you slip up."

"Hm. Seems fair. You better be listening close, though, I'm very good at what I do." He enunciates his final sentence and it sends a shiver down your spine. For a brief moment, you consider this could be a bad idea.

"And when I win, what will be my prize?" He asks. You let out a little giggle at his cockiness.

"I'll tell you my name." He cocks his head to the side, an intrigue hitting him. Did he really manage to get this far without a proper introduction?

"I see your little detective game going on, I'll give you that. You are quite the observer. But you won't find my name just by looking." You say smugly. That's true for a number of reasons.

"I suppose you did leave that information out, hm?" He let's his eyes drop, as if he was trying to piece it together with what little information he had.

"I must say, you've got me hooked, kitten." He lets out a sigh, leaning back in his chair and finishing off yet another drink.

"Deal?" You hum, holding your hand out to him. He smirks, taking it into his own, not expecting a firm shake, but receiving one. He went on to press a quick kiss to your knuckles.

"Deal."

You went home alone after that night, but it was likely for the best. You were sure you'd see him next time, anyway.

Now that you had to tell him your name.

You thought for sure he'd at least stumble through a sentence, but no. He went through the entire show, even an interview with some big shot, and spoke perfect English. He talked like he'd never had a drop of booze his entire life and got a full night's sleep, which you both knew was far from the truth. You almost dreaded the next encounter, but at least you didn't wager anything too crazy. Sure, he'll see you differently after this, but if this were to go any further - what are you on about? You only met him once and listened to him on the radio occasionally at best. He's a perfect stranger to you. Let's not get too excited.

You find yourself seated in the same spot as before, shrinking into your seat and downing a few drinks to build your courage. You told him your mark. An awkward introduction, first and last name, made you feel like a new student at a children's school. He perks up, which is what you expected.

"Ah! So you're the famed physician! It's almost silly of you to call me a celebrity, you're the talk of the town, kitten." You groan, of course, he recognizes you. Everyone in this damned small town knows your name, your family.

You were one of the first women to complete their studies and practice medicine from your hometown. But to attend such high schooling in this time, your family had to be well off. And you were, in fact, well off. When it came to your love life, men were either disgusted by your pursuit of knowledge or took it like some fetish. You haven't approached anyone for years.. not like this, at least.

"You know, I spoke with your father a few-" You groan at the mention of him, cutting Alastor off mid-sentence.

"Don't be a fool, I heard the little interview on your show.. Can't say that was my favorite broadcast." Alastor had a certain segment where he would chat with some of the richer and more.. stuck up.. men in society. It wasn’t titled as such, you just noticed the trend of guests being pompous and wealthy. And your father was the perfect fit for that.

You didn't know this at the time, but Alastor was suddenly hit with some mixed emotions. There was more than one reason as to why your father was chosen to be on his broadcast. Alastor used his interviews to initiate close ties, and make powerful allies. If they weren't complying how he hoped, he would usually cut ties. Permanently.

Your father was definitely not a reasonable man, in fact, you made it a point to avoid him when you returned home. But did he deserve death?

"I didn't expect just the sight of me walking the streets to be as interesting as it is." You mumbled, leaning forward on the counter and drinking something much stronger than you expected. But the mentions of your father called for a hard hitter.

"You didn't?" He asked bluntly, twirling the liquor in his glass. You hum in agreement. Gossip spreads like wildfire here.

"Well, you've picked up some interesting feats. If you were hoping to go unseen, I would've put some more thought into my rags." He gestured to your clothing. It was definitely of higher quality, but it was something you were used to wearing while attending your school in a high-class city. You felt a bit embarrassed, placing your hands in your lap to subtly hide your body.

"And a beautiful doctor like yourself just 'walking the streets'? Some might be concerned for your safety." You tilt your head to the side at his words. Your confusion makes him smirk.

"I'm sure you're aware, kitten, but there seems to be a killer on the loose." He seems far too excited for the subject at hand, and it's almost noticeable.

"Hm. Guess I shouldn't be going out alone and talking to strange men, should I?" You say with a smile.

"I suppose you shouldn't." He shrugs off your words, getting another drink. You didn't even see him finish the previous one. "Though I must say, I'm glad you did. You've been quite the conversationalist." It's barely flirting, but it seems to leave you blushing a bit.

You went on to chat throughout the night, your drunken rambling turned to complaints about your father, and morbid details about what you'd learned in medical school. Both topics that you didn't realize intrigued Alastor to a personal extent. Later on, the rambles started to become incomprehensible. He decides it would be best for you to leave, considering you were refusing to do so and thoroughly embarrassing yourself in the process.

A giggling, stumbling mess, you were carefully lifted from your seat and brought to your feet with his assistance. He helped you out to the streetside, calling a taxi and bringing you into the backseat gently. He then went ahead and paid the driver, and turned at his heels to head back inside.

As he was reaching for the bar's door, a loud call forced him to turn back to the cab.

"Buddy, she's too sloshed to give me an address. You know where she lives?" Shit. Alastor looks to the bar’s door, then to the cab, where he spots you leaning your head against the window in the backseat. He sighs.

After insisting the driver keep the fair, Alastor brought you back out. He kept you standing with a hand on your lower back, as you gripped onto his shirt, far too small to reach your arm over his towering figure. He was cringing at the sight of his clothes becoming disheveled.

"Alright, kitten, where are you staying? I doubt you'd appreciate me taking you to your family home.." He was talking in a hushed voice, in the hopes that you'd have enough conscious to respond, but knew that likely wasn't the case. He looks around the area as if the answer would be in plain sight. He lets out a sigh of defeat when it clearly wasn't.

"Didn't even get to finish my drink.." He mumbles, pulling you closer to keep you stable enough to walk a few blocks.

There, sat a charming little motel. However, calling it charming was.. optimistic. Your memory, to this day, is in small flashes. Only certain things come to mind when trying to picture what went on.

You remember Alastor talking to the older gentleman at the desk. It seemed like they were acquaintances. Maybe they've done business in the past.

You remember him giving up after finding that the room he booked was on the second floor. Unwilling to deal with the staircase, he hoisted you up quite easily. You definitely remember that. How such a slender man can hold you in his arms with no strain.

You remember the room, it was cleaner than you expected. He seated you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to remove your heels. He didn't seem to go much farther than that. He could've removed your entire wardrobe with your state of mind, and you'd be none the wiser. How awful it must be, to live in a world where a man not making a pass, surprises you.

As far as you know, you drifted to sleep almost right after. You're pretty sure he wrapped you in the blankets, and you remember the faint touch of hair being brushed from your face. His hand was far colder than you would have expected.

Being in your occupation, you don't exactly have time to confront all the horrific sights you've seen. So, your body deals with those emotions in other ways. A common occurrence, you were plagued with a number of night terrors. Something seems different in tonight's regularly scheduled program, though. A radio static overwhelms your senses, and any horrifying disfigurations that were taunting you seem to fade into nothing. A yellow grin and glowing red eyes are the last thing you can see.

You woke up the next morning with an excruciating headache, an ache in your stomach, and sore feet. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you barely care about the makeup that you'd smudged beyond repair. You try to recall your dreams, which usually stay vivid in your mind for most of the morning, but.. there's nothing. And despite the killer hangover, you feel more awake than you have in ages.

The panic settled in after you ran your hands across the unfamiliar sheets. With a soft gasp, you observe yourself. Still fully clothed, you spot your heels set next to the door. You look around the room next, and you almost feel relieved, seeing Alastor seated in a lounge chair in the corner of the room. He had his nose in a book. It was better than seeing him lying on the other side of the bed.. wait, was it?

You let out a pathetic little sound, your voice too weak to form any coherent words. He sets the book on his lap, and your sad attempt at a greeting seems to catch his attention.

"Good morning to you, too, kitten. Sleep well?" You were sure he drank as much as last night. If not, more. How dare he look so put together?

"Morning. I-um.. I suppose I did.. I-I hate to ask, but did... did we-" you stammer out, and he quickly holds his hands up in defense.

"Heavens no, dear, I wouldn't dare defile a woman who can't handle her whiskey." You scoff at his insult but still feel disarmed by his reaction.

"So then.. the motel room?" You question. He cocks his head to the side, only now realizing that your memory must've gone from the previous night.

"Ah, so you really can't handle your whiskey.. Well, not to fret, dear. You weren't telling me where you were staying, and Mimzy seemed keen on me taking you elsewhere." In actuality, she was trying to play matchmaker. Thanks for trying, Mimzy.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Alastor, I hate that you bought a room just for me.. I can pay you back." You sit up, running your hands through your mess of hair and letting out a pained groan.

"I'm sure you can, but I simply can't accept." He stands, tucking the book under his arm and walking to your bedside. You swing your legs over the edge, only to notice how close he seems to hover over you. You look up and realize how statuesque he was. You hadn't seen him in daylight. And his height is much more intimating when he stands.

"It was my pleasure, getting to witness you thoroughly embarrass yourself." He bends at the hips, a taunting smile across his face. You try to recall anything embarrassing you might've done the night before, but you can barely recall a thing. That did little to ease your mind.

"You'll have to tell me about it one day." You grumble, standing with his assistance. He offered to escort you home, and you happily accepted.

The two of you stand on your small porch. It's a quaint duplex you've been renting, you go on about how how the family who lives here travels for the summer and was more than happy to offer their home to such a sweet thing.

"Well, since you insist that I can't handle my liquor, it might be a better idea to find each other.. somewhere other than a joint..." you say sheepishly, your eyes wandering to anywhere but his gaze. When he steps closer, you finally fix your wide eyes on him.

"You don't want me to court you, kitten. You're a lovely, educated, pretty little thing, you'll be wasting your time, unfortunately." He doesn't sound insulting, he says it very truthfully. It only makes you want to see more. To ask him to come in, and stick around awhile. But you're aware he has a broadcast coming up soon. You wonder if he would've stayed by your side if you slept through it.

"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, getting coffee doesn't waste too much time." You decide to stand your ground. You aren't sure why he's refusing if he thinks all that of you. You see him look you up and down, then let out a sigh.

"Hm. I suppose. I'll be back here tomorrow morning since you're so insistent. Just remember I warned you-" He says playfully as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Curiosity killed the cat, my dear!" He calls out before giving another heart-melting smile. You nervously bite your lip and watch him walk off through the cracked door. Like a damned puppy, you couldn't help but watch him walk off. You quickly shut the door, after realizing how hard you were smiling.

This was supposed to be for fun. You were just supposed to be some extra company on occasions. And he knew you came with your perks. You were an heir to a decent fortune, it only made sense for him to befriend you. You were knowledgeable and smart, he could definitely benefit from your skills if he needs to do so. There were plenty of ways Alastor could use you if necessary.

But with every little dance, every little coffee, or walk home from the bar, it was making him nervous. Of course, he would never call it that, he's too disgusted by the pangs in his chest he gets around you. Unfiltered, yet still delicate and professional. Incredibly intelligent, yet still makes the silliest mistakes. You were flawed. You came from such a slob of a man, and the fact that you are so kind despite that amazes him more than you realize. You are more than willing to stand for your beliefs. For one of the first times in his life, Alastor admired someone.

He's not sure what conversations led to him agreeing to cook yet another dinner in your home, but here he was; standing at your door with a bag of groceries.

"Oh- you didn't need to do all that, you're always free to use anything in the kitchen." You greet him as he comes inside, where he sets the bag at a nearby counter space. You reach up and pull his trenchcoat off his shoulders, which he willingly surrenders to. It was a little action you took, taking his coat for him when he would stop by. He's come to expect it. You hang it up on the rack nearby.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you have plenty to work with, but I'm following a special recipe tonight." He insisted, already unpacking things, setting up pots and pans, and rolling up his sleeves. He pulled an apron from the bag last, and the sight of him all prepped for cooking leaves you weak in the knees. You want to see this every night. You want him in your kitchen every mealtime. You shake the desires from your head, pushing aside the dreams of domesticity that have been plaguing your mind recently.

"Can I help with anything?" You chime in, peeking around the corner to smile at him through the doorway. He shakes his head.

"If you feel the need to help, you're more than welcome to get the table set, but I am quite in my element here, kitten. So, not to worry." You were mostly listening to him, but one part of you kept your focus on his skillful knife practice, watching him chop vegetables in a nearly professional manner.

"Kitten? The table?" His words and his moving on to something else snapped you from your funk.

"Oh! Of course, yes." You stumble a bit but do as he instructs. It wasn't anything special, but the space was more than enough to give the ambiance of a good date.

Damn, this man could cook. He's cooked for you before, but something you couldn't quite put a finger on left you swooning at the sight of the still-steaming gumbo in front of you.

"Damn, you can cook." You're muttering, between bites. You almost can't taste all its decadence, digging in before letting it fully cool.

"Slow down, dear, we have all night." He says softly, despite bringing a spoonful to his own lips. You catch yourself staring at the sight of him eating beside you, enthralled by his enthusiastic hums.

"So where did this come from? I'm a bit suspicious of the finery if I'm honest." You place your elbows on the table, perching your chin on top of your hands. He scoffs in response.

"How rude. All my meals are of the highest quality. I simply haven't made this in quite a while, I thought tonight would be a good time to do so." He replies.

"A recipe for special occasions, hm? Would you consider this.. a special occasion?" You tease, looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. He looks confused, letting his eyes wander in thought for a moment. Was this a special occasion? Is there any specific reason he wanted to bring his own mother's recipe to some girl he's befriended? He pushes the thought aside, planning on mocking you like usual.

"Any night with you is plenty special, kitten." He hums, popping another spoonful into his mouth. He doesn't see your face turning red, but his oblivious flirting always leaves you flushed.

"In that case, when are you inviting me to your own home? I won't lie and say I'm not curious, Al." You set your finished plate aside and notice his eye twitch. You've been staring at him long enough to notice even his smallest ticks.

"Someday. I've a bit of a mess to go through before considering bringing any guests over." He brushes clean his already pristine top, as you stand and take his empty plate to the kitchen. With a sigh, you take yourself over to the sink to do a quick clean. It's the least you could do after such a lovely meal.

"If you say so." You try your best to sound calm, but you're slightly hurt by his constant rejection of letting you into his personal life. It wasn't all the time, but there were clearly things he refused to talk about. You want nothing more than to know him.

Lost in your mildly upsetting thoughts, you recklessly take one of his knives the wrong way, the blade slicing surprisingly easily down your finger. The shock takes you back more than the actual pain. These are far too nice for everyday cooking.

Letting out a quiet curse, you feel his hand brush over your own, his shadow casting over your entirety. "Such a clutz." You hear, his voice causing you to tense. You let him guide your hand under the water to rinse it, effectively caging you in place.

"Be careful, will you? These are my nicer tools." Interesting way to say it, but you were too focused on the fact that you could feel his breath heating the back of your neck. You simply nod, before turning the water off with your free hand. You turn your body around, leaning your back against the edge of the countertop and effectively facing Alastor. His hands stay planted on either side of you, making it a bit of a tight squeeze. You weren't sure what you were trying to accomplish here, but here you are. Neither of you seem to be moving away, though. He drops his head to look into your eyes. You're lost in them.

You reach your arms upwards, holding them around his neck as best you can, and you feel him willingly lean within your grasp. The moment is heated, you feel his breath against your lips as you pull him impossibly closer. His breath is quick, almost shaky. You've never seen this side of him. You'd never associate Alastor with the term nervous.

Nearly closing the gap, you feel a hand come to your throat and fingers gently holding your jaw. With a quick turn, he places a soft kiss on your cheek. It lingers for a moment, and even if it wasn't what you were expecting, you're gasping beneath his affection. The room seems to cool down for a moment. He steps away silently, pulling his things all together.

You may have made a mistake.

"Oh, Al- I'm sorry I didn't think.. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, i-if that's what happened there." Your words quicken, suddenly becoming anxious that you may have upset him.

"No, don't fret." He waves his hand dismissively, his back still turned to you as he keeps himself busy with a bit of tidying. "I'd be an idiot to not expect that, eventually." He almost sounds insulting, a little cocky.

"Why's that? Are you used to women just throwing themselves at you?" You tease but keep yourself from his eyeline.

"Well, yes- but, you've been especially touchy recently. And you seem to be acting like I make you.. nervous. Fidgety." His little observations leave you a bit embarrassed.

"It's not nervous.. exactly. Never mind that, though.. Does.. that interest you..? At all?" It takes you a while to get the question out and it still comes across shaky. You're response is silence. Fill it.

"H-How about a drink before you head off, hm?" You quickly shuffle to your liquor cart, looking for anything to drown out your essential confession.

"It does." You freeze in place, missing the cup entirely with your first pour. That was an answer neither of you were really expecting. You finally turn to him, seeing that he had looked away just as you did.

"So, that means-" you want him to elaborate. You want to hear him say all the things you've been dreaming of. That he wants to spend his free time with you, hold your hand, and kiss it with more than just a greeting in mind. To call you anything other than kitten. Well.. that last part you didn't mind as much.

"I've not prepared myself for such a conversation, but I.. enjoy your company. And your brains.. and you certainly aren't terrible to look at." He said he didn't prepare himself, and it was pretty obvious. This wasn't his usual taunting, his usually eloquent beats. He's pausing between phrases, to come up with the best words on hand.

"Jee, thanks." You roll your eyes, your smile still shining.

"I suppose you leave me speechless, kitten." You leave a radio host, a man who talks for a living and is quite good at it, speechless. This time, he sees the freshly pink hues across your cheek. He lets out a devious chuckle, one you recognize when he's about to do something you'd consider nefarious. He starts to approach you, his clean shoes clicking against the wooden floors being the only sound. You knew you weren't in danger, but you find yourself walking backward until you hit the table. Continuing to lean away from him, he towers over you, only following your avoidance until you are straining to stand upwards.

"Well?" You let out, your words barely a whisper. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

That seems to shock him a bit, you see his shoulders tense just slightly. You watch him contemplate his next action. He let his hand snake around your waist, not exactly to pull you closer, but his touch still left you weak. With a soft kiss on your lips, he gave you no time to truly enjoy it.

"I hate to repeat myself, but I warned you, kitten. Curious little things like yourself deserve.. more." After processing his words, you're still melting to his touch despite how fleeting it was. He steps away.

"W-What- No! I thought you said you were interested! And that kiss- W-What were-" You throw a bit of a tantrum, but quickly calm yourself. "I don't understand, help me understand. Please.." You sound a bit defeated. He sighs, clearly pained that this conversation has to continue.

"Hm.. I don't believe I'm able to give you everything you need. But, you deserve everything you need. It's as simple as that." He's pausing between words, and his expression shows that he's still not exactly satisfied with how it came out.

You shrank in place and held your arms, your mind trying to scrap together any little hints to what he means. Maybe something he's mentioned in the past. But as elusive as ever, it still just doesn't make sense to you. He catches a glimpse of your upset appearance, then takes in the rest of your state a bit longer. You can feel his eyes on you, forcing you to nervously bite at your lip.

"Okay. Let's forget all that, then." You said softly, smiling the best you can and waving your hand dismissively. He obviously knows that you wouldn't lose these feelings as quickly as he'd hoped. He'd reassure you, you'll get over it.

But you couldn't. You tried, you did. You went on other dates, considering how many men were throwing themselves at you in the right bars. You kept your distance for a bit but still saw him at Mimzy's bar on the weekends. Despite all your potential suitors, you still only seemed to look forward to those nights with Alastor. You'd go as far as to complain about some unruly men to him. His disgusted reactions were a comfort.

You kept trying to pry his real reasoning as to why he wouldn't be with you. He'd admit to not being trustworthy, which you would always dismiss. He'd go on about the other men that would be a much better fit, and all with good reasoning, but you still wouldn't stop pestering him. Then, after a few too many drinks, he finally let slip his disinterest in intimacy. And from everything he's told you, this seemed different. It wasn't an excuse or an avoidance, it was the truth.

"So, you don't find me physically attractive?" You ask him, swirling your half-empty cup.

"It's not that, I assure you. I'd just prefer to shower you in other affections, I suppose." He seems a bit unfiltered tonight, still avoiding your eyes.

"Other affections, hm? Like what, birdy?" You were already enraptured. But you were kicking yourself for getting your hopes up at all. You can see his immediate regret in his words.

"Kitten-"

"Please? I'm just curious." You say sincerely, placing your hand over top of his. You hesitate for a moment, but he seems to not mind the touch.

"Well.. I'd like to buy you the finest things. Any book you're slightly interested in, any frock that draws your eyes, any accessories that would bring out your natural beauty- you deserve it. I want to keep you proudly on my arm throughout the streets, showing everyone that you belong to me. I'd like to cook you every meal, until the day I die." His drunken rants leave an obvious sparkle in your eyes.

"Well that all sounds lovely to me.." you say softly, twisting and turning his hand until your fingers are comfortably interlocked with his. "Simply put, you're not interested in sex?” He was taken aback by your bold words, looking around as if he were nervous someone would hear. “I’ve read about it before, there’s an interesting essay that describes this sort of phenomenon. I'll have to lend it to you.” Your calmness surprises him.

“Well.. Thank you. That puts an end to that, then. Go on and find a man who can properly bed you.” He tries to act just as calm, but his voice still seems a bit frustrated by the idea. You make an act out of tapping your chin and humming in thought.

“No, I’d much rather spend my time with you.” You say bluntly. He quickly chimes in.

“But, I-”

“Alastor, I’ve never met someone as arrogant as you.” You let out a frustrated groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you’ll have me, however you want that is, I’d love nothing more than to spend my days with you.” You speak slowly, almost mockingly, trying to get this damned point across after so long.

He’s still quiet, opening his mouth to respond, then letting his lips shut again. He smiles at you. You couldn't ask for a better response. It was the sweetest smile you've ever seen from him, no sign of teasing or mocking you, no hidden intent, and just slightly bashful. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, in a sweet sign of acceptance.

Things went on after that without a hitch. Mostly. There were some kinks to work out, sure, but you were absolutely head over heels for him. No one’s ever brought you this much joy, and having this more intimate side of him, despite its physicalities, was more than you could ever hope for. He’d finally let you into his home after a while. It was near spotless and he was more than willing to show off the space to you. You wondered why he felt the need to stall this for so long. But you’re together now, hardly anything else matters.

As the summer came to an end, and you had to find somewhere else, you were invited to stay with Alastor. After walking freely around town, as promised, with his arm around yours, gossip spread as it always does. Another talk of the town, two unwed youths in the same place, sharing the same bed assumedly. It made you two snicker at the rumors. Living with him was heaven.

Following through his previous statements, he showered you in compliments, cooked every meal for you, and spent as much of his free time with you as he could. He offered little physical affection, little pecks here and there, and had no issue with sharing his bed. It wasn't long before you popped the question. Neither of you were really interested in the big fancy wedding idea, he was even comprehended by the marriage itself, but if anyone could wear down his nerves, it was you. That being said, Alastor did get you a ring that you were sure cost far too much. He brought up the idea of eloping. A little vacation just for the two of you. It sounded perfect.

“Birdy~ You let out in a sing-song tone, opening the door to your shared home. Every time you’d walk up to the house, you’d slow down, taking in your flawless reality every day. You’d hold your hand out to yourself, looking at the still newly polished ring, then finally entering your perfect home.

Although, it wasn’t perfect today.

You call out his name, no response. You know he should be home, so you peak around corners to no avail. You checked tables and counters, no note to be seen.

After setting down your bag, slipping your heels off, and hanging your coat after your quick search, you head to your room to at least change for the evening. You and Alastor usually go visit Mimzy on these nights, an unspoken routine.

On the way to your room, your tights hit a wet splotch on the floor. With a groan of disgust, you finally realize what you had stepped in.

Blood.

Of course, you’d recognize blood. It trailed from the door in front of you.

Alastor assured you this was his office and showed it to you on occasion. The door was always open when he wasn't home, and although you never felt the need to intrude on his personal space, something was clearly wrong. You swung open the door.

“No.”

You cover your mouth after your quiet refusal. You're silent, unwilling to believe what you're seeing. Your darling husband-to-be, kneeling over a stained and still wet corpse wrapped in canvas. His hands are covered in blood. Actually, his entire body is covered in blood.

How he managed to get in and out of the house without making an entire mess was a thought that managed to cross your mind in your state of shock. You glance up for a second to notice one of the heavy bookshelves pushed aside, a sort of patio doorway leading to the swampy area behind the house.

You look at the door, then to Alastor. Who’s giving you a wide-eyed face that pains your chest.

Say something, Alastor. Say something that’ll make this all okay. You're a deer in headlights.

He notices your eyes dart to the right, then back to him, staring for a moment longer. One thing is on your mind without his reassurance. You’re in danger.

Run.

You book it down the hall, clearly going to the exit. Both your feet soaked in blood at this point are tracking through the house. The moment was such a blur, that you hardly remember how far you got before feeling the pain of hitting the floor. You look down after scrambling onto your back, seeing Alastor’s hand wrap around your ankle.

“Hold on! You’re covered in blood, you’re a mess, just-” He sounds deranged. Who is this man? Surely not the one who’s been treating you so well all this time. He sounds anxious and angry. You’re face is stained with tears as he essentially drags you across the floor briefly, not considering his heightened adrenaline in these moments. You kick. You scream.

“Listen to me!” He grabs you by your arms, giving you a good shake. That seems to calm you down.. or at least quiet you down. You’re staring at him wide-eyed, your breath rapid. He has your attention, yet he’s not sure what to say. A pained expression grows on his face. You’re leaving him speechless, again.

“Let’s.. clean you up.” He scoops you up, and maybe it's the shock that leaves you so lenient. Or maybe it's all the good times blurring what you've witnessed. When you come to, you’re sitting in the bath, Alastor by your side, and running a sponge across your arm, thoroughly staining the water with blood. The sight brings a gasp from your lips, that feels like the first breath you've taken in hours.

“A-Alastor-” You let out weakly, your frightened expression now burned into his mind. “Was that real..?”

“It was-” He lets out a pained sigh, seeing if he could soften the truth. It's not possible. “-It was.” no words can save him from this.

“W-Why..?”

“He was rather unpleasant. A man with too much money, who wasted most of his time on hitting his women staff. He had his chance to make things right, I assure you, this is always the last resort.” That doesn't help for obvious reasons. You pull away from his gentle washing.

“Always? You've done this before?” Your voice squeaks as it comes out. You don't want to know the details. But you can't stop the words from spilling from your lips. He stands and rings the sponge out into the sink, watching the red-tinted water swirl down the drain.

“Yes.”

“How many times have you-” You stop yourself finally. You don't want the answer to that one. You don't want the answer to any of these questions. Unconsciously, your mind still seems to piece together every strange thing he’s done and said to you.

Your half-sentence is replied to with silence. He goes on to finish cleaning you up, helping you in and out of the tub, and drying you as best he can. He wraps you in his own robe and brings you to the bedroom. You’re mortified when you notice him guiding you by your shoulders to avoid the bloody footprints still on the ground.

Some time passes. You sit empty-minded on the edge of the bed, your eyes gazing down into nothing. Alastor leans against the vanity across the small room from you. He runs his hands through his hair, pausing and clenching some strands in his fists before moving on.

“I can..get all your belongings together, find you a place to stay. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.” He finally says, breaking the silence and your endless train of thought. His offer seems reasonable, but you still feel hurt.

“You want me to leave?” You ask quietly, gripping the edges of the robe and shrinking into yourself. He’s shocked by your response, you can hear it in his voice.

“You want to stay?” He asks in response.

“I.. I love you.” You say weakly. It stings to say it out loud. And even more so to hear it. “Will you hurt me? I-If I go to the police? If I rat you out..?” What are you doing? You can’t ask a murderer that. Your mind is running on fear, especially after what you just said. You feel his hand lightly lift your face to his, flinching slightly considering you hadn't noticed him approaching you.

“I would never hurt you. I’d spend my days rotting in a jail cell if it meant you’re safe..and happy. I love you, kitten.” You aren’t used to seeing this face. It’s almost emotionless. You start to picture this face carrying out his murderous intentions. But there's a crack in his psychopathic mask. There's a hint of softness and anguish at the sight of you.

“I don't.. I don't want to leave.” You take a hold of his hand, still shaking and clearly unsure of your words. You hear a soft hiss leave his lips, clearly trying to conceal his reaction to the unexpected. “I don’t want you to be in jail- or.. I suppose I don't want you to be caught..?” You groan, holding tightly onto his hand. “I’m so confused, Alastor. I want things to be normal. I want to go back to when you cooked for me, and.. And go back to planning- o-our elopement…” You let out weakly. He doesn't respond at first, you force your eyes up to meet his. He looks heartbroken at the sight of you.

“I just want to pretend that none of this happened..Please, stop this. F-for me, please don't do this anymore.” Your voice becomes a whisper. His hesitation only makes it all worse. He responds once he feels your grip on him loosen.

“Okay- okay. I’ll clean up this mess, and- I’ll stop. For you.” You manage to give him a weak smile, before resting your head against his chest. After holding you for a moment he settles you into bed after you had essentially fallen asleep in his arms. He does as promised. Mostly. He cleans up the mess at least.

The next morning, you wake up and hope everything that happened before a nightmare. But, you feel his robe still wrapped around you, then notice Alastor’s side of the bed empty. It's real then. It was too vivid. And if it's real.. Then he’s stopping. Because of you. It’s almost touching.

You go on about your day, and he greets you as if nothing is wrong, making your breakfast as usual. He’s chipper and goes on to chat about his plans for today. He’s pretending that nothing went on. How often has he done this? Convincingly pretend that he didn't take a life less than twelve hours ago?

It takes you a few days. A few months.. years, actually. To accept what he had done. You never forgave him, but you accepted it. You had to go on and enjoy your newly wedded life together, didn't you? Alastor had a broadcast to work on, an audience to appease, and you had to work as a physician, helping locals from within their homes. Besides, he stopped the murders after you caught him that one awful night, didn't he?

Didn't he?

Police are at your door. A nightmare of a sight. You open it, putting on your best face. It wasn't as easy as it used to be, but your smile still convinced the public. Leaning against the open door and batting your lashes you greet them sweetly. your face instantly fell to their words. You almost hoped that he had gotten caught. But he didn't.

He's dead.

“Shot in the woods, ma’am. A hunter mistook him for a deer in the dark.” you'd recall these words later, but for now, your ears were ringing and your mind was absent. You thanked them and shut the door.

You can't recall how loudly you screamed and sobbed, or for how long that went on. You need to be held. You need him to hold you and that only pains you more. You mourned for days, canceling appointments, and not answering any guests who were there to offer empty condolences. You rotted in his home. He was so young. You were both so young, there was so much to look forward to in your future. It's all gone now.

The first place you went to was Mimzy's bar. A few months had passed, and all your good liquor had run out. Plus, a familiar face could be a good change of pace right now.

“Oh, hun!” An immediate greeting at the door, Mimzy brings you to the bar. It's a late night on a workday, it was essentially empty. “I'm so sorry for your loss. Everyone in town is worried bout ya! I'm sure you don't wanna hear this, but how are you doin'?” She was right. You didn't want to hear that. You hated that question.

“Fine.” You say squeakly. It was the first word you had spoken in weeks, you realize. She slides you your drink and you immediately down it. She tops it off just for it to be finished off even faster than the last.

“Slow down, hun.” She says, sliding a glass of water to you next. When you drink it thoughtlessly, the absence of alcohol has you scrunching your nose. “I'm sure this isn't the best time, but.. I got somethin’ for ya.” She disappears into some backroom before reapproaching you and your barely touched glass of water. She places an enveloped letter in your hand. Your name written in neat cursive fills its front and your hands start to shake.

“It's from Al. He wanted me to give this to ya. If he ever.. well, if this ever happened.” as she's speaking, you've already opened it and begun reading.

It was instructions. And a large wad of cash. Above the instructions, A small blurb about how sorry he was, how much he loved you, and prayed that you'd never have to read this. Then a list of how to thoroughly clean and dispose of all evidence in his shed.

“Did you know?” you ask Mimzy, your hands crinkling on each side of the letter. She nods. “He never stopped, did he?” You say in a hushed tone, mainly in disbelief to yourself.

“Well- not exactly, no. he was finishing somethin' up in the forest that one night.” Mimzy talks as if she's practiced this conversation. He must've kept her up to date with all this.

“He told me he would stop. He said he was doing it for me-” You grip at your heart, letting out a shaky breath.

“What important is that he loved ya, right? He was an equal opportunity killer, hun, he only did what he had to. It was for the greater good, ya know?” Mimzy was speaking far too calmly about this. you let out a flurry of curses, shoving the crumpled-up instructions into your purse before standing at the bar.

“You're all fucking psychopaths!” You yell out to the empty bar and leave the building in a huff.

You needed to leave town. The two people you were closest to were both criminals. And being in this house was only hurting you more. You packed as much as you could, hand hovering over the phone to call for a taxi. You freeze in place. Then see your ring. You look at it for a moment, the light giving it a beautiful shine. With a defeated sigh, you set your bags aside and pull the instructions back out from your purse, straightening it out as best you could.

After finishing a very thorough cleaning, and questioning your actions through it all, you did everything on the list. You burned the letter alongside some other items that he told you to dispose of. You still aren't sure why you did it. He was never caught before and he must have cleaned up his job in the forest before getting shot. Maybe it was for the best. Let his radio persona live on. Let it be the last nice thing you ever do for him. You finally leave that hellhole behind.

You went on to live another sixty years, quite a feat if you must admit. You weren't much of a religious person, so passing in your sleep and waking up in the streets of Pentagram City, was a bit of a shock. After accepting the idea of an afterlife, you put the little details together. You were sure after all that went down in your youth, you would end up here. And if you're here, then maybe..

There are more important things right now. Lucky for you, you fell right in the middle of a bustling street. You scramble to your feet and quickly escape the speeding cars. Why were there cars in Hell? Why did it look so much like a big city you would visit at some point, how is it so human? There was so much to question, but you were desperate to find any sort of sanctuary.

You weren't sure why your first thought was to find the nearest bar, but something seemed to bring you in. You're almost disappointed in yourself for stepping into a club decorated as a 20s speakeasy. But it was familiar- nostalgic. A shrill voice draws your attention.

"Oh my stars! Get over here, doll!" The shriek brings your attention to the bar, where a slightly familiar face greets you. “What are ya gawkin’ at? It’s me! Mimzy? Get that tail over here!” Mimzy owns a club even in Hell? You approach her after some more beckoning.

"Long time no see! How long you been in?" She goes on. You observe her appearance as she speaks. She looks almost the same. The red eyes and sharp teeth were definitely new. You realize you hadn't had the chance to take in your own appearance, but clearly, it must've been similar enough for her to recognize you. Still questioning your position, you finally process her words.

"Oh- I just arrived actually. Lucky me to walk straight into your bar, hm?" You lean against the counter as she pours you a drink, a flurry of trauma and nostalgia turns to confusion.

"Wow! You had quite a life after old Al got you outta town, didn't ya?” She teased. You let out a nervous chuckle. Good old Al. You haven't thought about him in years. You were so young, so head over heels for this man you barely knew. You somehow managed to suppress all the bad times as you aged. Mimzy notices your face droop a bit.

"I suppose I did.." a brief smile meets the wedding band still on your hand.

"Well? Finally gonna reunite? Ooh! How romantic! You'll have to update me, sweetie!" Mimzy bats at you, letting out an excited giggle. You quickly shake your head, not processing any other way to respond.

"I-I can't- I mean.. Not after everything he’s done.” Your hands clench at even the thought.

“Sorry to break it to ya, but we’re all for a reason. You got plenty of time to forgive him, with the whole eternal punishment of it all.” Mimzy’s tone drops to a more serious one as if she’s heard that line before. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to rot in Hell with someone they love, you should see what he’s up to!” Her tone seems to immediately switch to something more chipper.

“Still, I uh.. I shouldn't. He’s been dead for so long, I’m sure he’s got some other dame cleaning up his messes.” Excuses. You didn't want to see him, because this is his fault. You're here because you helped clean up his space after his unfortunate death. Even when you had no idea, he relied on you. He trusted you to carry this burden for the rest of your life. Your rage was suppressed when you heard Mimzy's voice chime back in.

"Nope! He's been busy with uh.. his work. Still wears the ring, though~" She hums, tapping her finger to emphasize her words. You look down at your own hand. Why did you still wear yours, again? You never remarried, but mainly because of the trust issues that were instilled in you for the rest of your life. Maybe it wouldn't be a terrible idea..

“N-No, I just cant..” You let out louder than you meant to. Mimzy shrugs off your panic. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room, would you, Mimzy?”

Mimzy did in fact have a spare room. You stayed in one of the ratty rooms about the bar, alongside some of the demons that rented the rooms for their own business. You realized, after finding a mirror, that you were portrayed with some feline features, nothing too disfiguring. Once you saw your new form, Alastor’s voice, every single time he beckoned you with kitten, rang throughout your mind. You couldn't bring yourself to look at yourself for the first few months. This was Hell after all. Eternal punishment can manifest in several ways.

Mimzy was still a clear supporter of Alastor, so she had a radio set up in your room already. No matter how hard you tried, you realize pretty early on that Alastor had some power over the radios that force his broadcasts to be the only thing streaming. You heard it all. The screams of souls being torn apart, his constant gossiping and cruel words making fun of other demons.

But damn, if it didn't feel like living again. Waking up every morning to the sound of his voice on the radio, before you can truly decipher what he’s talking about, it almost feels like a normal life. But then you hear the pain in those demons that he’s mercilessly tearing up. Sometimes, you see Mimzy cheering at the radio like some sports game is being narrated. You try to avoid her when she’s doing that.

Things were comfortable for many years. As comfortable as Hell can be, at least. Alastor became a distant part of your daily routine, you'd hear his broadcasts all the time, but only in addition to the other bustling city noises. It all seemed to cancel out after a while. You worked with Mimzy, picking up at the bar when she had to run off. In exchange, you stayed in that room indefinitely. You two seemed to become friends again, despite your living history. It became clear to you that what happened when you were alive really didn't matter down here. You all made the same degree of mistakes and you all learned that you’re here for the same reasons.

You went through extermination days as best you could, only having one face-to-face interaction. That day, you were already on the verge of death from falling debris and trying to escape a specifically insistent exorcist. She had you cornered. You shut your eyes, wincing at the upcoming angelic weapon you saw her raise at you. Only feeling a slight sting across the bridge of your nose and cheek, you open your eyes to see her flying back towards the portal to heaven. You can't believe you got that lucky. You’re still in disbelief at the entire scenario, but unlike most wounds down here, your face was permanently scarred. It was small, barely noticeable! Mimzy says.

But you knew not everyone had this much luck on extermination day. After noticing the silence on the streets, during the most recent extermination, you nervously left the bar. Everything was empty. The portal had opened closer to that hotel you’d heard of. And the exorcists were going straight to it. You scoffed, walking back into the bar. They’d finish off those demons there quickly, so you still wanted to hide. As you barred yourself up in your room, you remembered Mimzy telling you about her visit to that hotel. About why she visited the hotel. Alastor's there. You try to not panic. It’s been decades, why are you worried about him? Besides you know how powerful he is, you've picked up his whole radio demon shtick from others. He’ll be fine.

Then why are you so restless?

A loud knocking at your door shakes your entire core. You keep yourself hauled up in the corner of your room, covering your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. You still hear a voice call your name from the other side of the door.

“You gotta come see this! The angels are gone!” It's Mimzy. it's far earlier than usual, you were almost worried it was some new tactic they picked up. You crack the door open just slightly, and her small frame pummeled the door open. She paces your room, rambling words that you barely catch, and she shoves her phone to your face. You have to take it from her shaking hands to get a glimpse. It's hard to see, but it's very obviously footage of Alastor fighting Adam. His body is warped through the drone’s camera, and you watch him fade away into nothingness after one blow. There was no audio, You couldn't hear what happened. Considering you weren't familiar with his shadow antics, you had no idea what actually happened to him.

“You gotta find out if he's okay! I can't go back to that hotel, you gotta do it!” she sounds frantic, taking her phone back. “What? Absolutely not! I'm sure he's fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, despite the hesitance in your voice. Everyone's in Hell for the same reasons. Your mind goes back and forth on the possibility of forgiveness.. of mending burned bridges.

“The videos from a few hours ago, those angels are gone! Ooh.. He's just gotta be okay..” You didn't realize how much Mimzy actually appreciated Alastor. Whether it be the protection he offers or their actual friendship, you aren't sure. But she's clearly worried about him. You just aren't ready.

Mimzy spent the next few days begging you to go down there and find him. And you refused every time. She mentioned going to Cannibal Town to visit his "Gal Pal" and even she hadn't heard from him. He's disappeared before, just recently too, You're sure it was just like his last seven-year absence. Even if you were getting a bit worried, you'd never admit it. There were no broadcasts, there was no public trash-talking from the Vees, it was just.. quiet.

“Didn't you love him?” You stare at Mimzy, in disbelief that she just said that.

“Excuse me?” That seemed to strike a nerve. And maybe she meant to do that.

“I remember you two in my bar, you were two peas in a pod! I've never seen him like that with any gal, hun. That's not somethin' that just goes away.” Mimzy takes your hand from across the bar. “Please, go check on him. Maybe it'll be like a final hurrah, but I just gotta know if he's okay.” You look around the room as if someone would offer to go in your place. But she's right. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't missing his broadcasts. You let out a dejected sigh.

“Okay.. okay! Fine.” You huff. An immediate change in attitude, Mimzy lets out an excited exclamation and pours the two of you drinks, to celebrate her pushy victory.

You take in a deep breath, looking around the new hotel's exterior. It was much larger than the previous one and more lavish. You hesitate before knocking on the door. A series of whispered voices, then scrambling feet, follow the door opening. It's the princess of Hell. You weren't expecting Alastor to greet you, but you still feel a bit disappointed.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Ho-” You quickly interrupt.

“No! Nono, sorry.” You laugh Nervously. “I'm not here for the whole.. redemption thing. Is.. uh…” You peek around her shoulder, seeing a few demons you recognize from the commercial, but no Alastor.

“Is the radio demon here..?” You finally ask quietly. Charlie still seems a little hurt from the interruption, but just because you're not interested in redemption doesn't mean she won't try to convince you.

“Alastor? Sure! He's been in his tower since we reopened.. So, he's probably up there.” She explains, pulling you into the building despite your refusal. “I can go get him for you! What's your name? I'll tell him who-”

"That's actually okay! I was sent to check up on him, so.. if he's alive, then that's all I need to hear!” Mimzy will just have to be satisfied with that. You're chickening out. If they're saying he's fine, then that's good enough for you. The longer you're here, the more anxious you're becoming. You're worried he could pop out of nowhere. Which is a legitimate concern apparently.

“Charlie!” A greeting comes from behind the blonde, and you see a red-clawed hand engulf her shoulder. “Already a new resident? How exciting! What unfortunate sinner has found themselves here as a last resort.. today…”

You know that voice. Of course, you know that voice. He looks fairly similar to how he did when he was alive, the hair was new. Ditto the antlers. A deer? They turned him into a deer down here? You almost want to laugh. Maybe being in Hell for so long has turned your sense of humor that crude. You're staring with wide eyes. He whispers your name so quietly that all you can really take in is his lips forming the word.

“Hey, Al! She was just looking for you! I think she might be worried, right?”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up-

“I.. was! But I see he’s clearly fine now, so! I should get back to Mimzy’s-”

“Mimzy? You're with that trainwreck?” a low voice comes from the bar, interrupting the conversation. The cat demon behind the counter scoffs at you. “Nice ears.” They fold down involuntarily from embarrassment.

“Kitten.” You immediately turn at the sound of Alastor’s voice, shivers thoroughly covering your body. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but it clamps shut. His eyes widen for a moment, looking around the room to see how almost every resident had gathered to witness the new face. You start to back away to the door.

“This may not have been the best idea.. T-thank you, princess, it was nice meeting you.” with a blink of your eye, Alastor’s arm is around your shoulder.

“Why of course! Thank you for visiting! I'll escort you out!” His chipper attitude startles you, and you feel almost insulted by his eagerness to have you leave.

“Oh! Well.. come back anytime! Our doors are always open!” You hear Charlie call out as Alastor takes you outside the building. Before you even have a chance to protest, you're suddenly in a recording room. Your mouth is still open ready to scold him, but instead, you examine the dizzying change in scenery. Your eyes finally drop to Alastor, who had taken both your shoulders and let his head drop from your view. He startles to mumble.

“W-What are you-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were here?” His head finally lifts and you catch his perplexed expression. Pained eyes paired with a strained smile, it's almost frightening.

“W-Well, I.. it was just-”

“When did you arrive?”

“A few.. decades ago..?”

“Decades?” His voice goes low and static. You pull away from his grasp as his voice changes. “You shouldn't be here. There has to be a mistake.” His voice returns to normal, and he starts to pace the room. Mumbling more nonsense to himself, he starts gripping at his hair.

You watch this for a while, before finally approaching him. You take hold of his arm, effectively stopping him in place. Pulling down his arm, you feel the grasp on his hair loosen.

“Calm down. You're pulling your hair out, again.” You say softly, brushing his hand clean of stray hairs he had torn out. Reaching forward you attempt to brush his hair back into place. Your hand pauses, hovering just by his cheek. You want to hold him. He seems to follow your hand when you decide to quickly distance yourself.

His eyes look bloodshot and demonic. How could you still possibly be getting lost in them?

“You shouldn't be here, kitten. You’re here because of me.” You flinch at his words, despite how true they are, you manage to feel some underlying guilt.

“Yeah.. Mimzy just wanted to know if you were alright. And you seem just fine. I should go.” You say bluntly, taking hold of your arms and going towards the door.

“Why didn't you find me?” His words cause you to stop.

“Sorry, you weren't exactly the first thing on my mind when I woke up in Hell.”

“Kitten, I-” His voice seems to drop the radio static. It sounds entirely too familiar.

“-don't call me that.” You snap, biting at your lip unconsciously.

“I'm sorry.” He finally says. “It was.. irresponsible of me to lie to you. I made a mistake.” He sounds more embarrassed to admit he messed up. His ego makes you scoff.

“Yes, it was irresponsible. It was downright cruel, Alastor. I had to live with the burden of your murders and had to die with the consequences.” You turn back to face him, a rage that had been boiling for decades finally spilling over. “I did so much good after you died. It has to be your fault I'm here. I never told the cops, I followed your ridiculous instructions, and it was the worst decision of my life! And now I'm paying for it. For being too far in love to realize that you were just using me!” You've had this conversation in your head so many times, that you have no issue saying exactly what you want.

“No!" He stops himself before he can shout anything else. "I assure you, that isn't the case at all. I love you more than I can put into words, kitten, can't we just-” Alastor reaches his hand out to you and you quickly lean away. You spot the ring on his finger.

“Love? You used me to make sure your record stayed clean! That's not love.” You hiss.

“I did it to protect you. I gave you everything you needed to remove yourself from the situation if anything were to happen to me. You said you went on to do good, and I believe you. That was because of me! The letter and the money were both for your safety- I was helping you.” He isn’t exactly shouting, but his tone is certainly sending chills down your spine.

“You don't get to take credit for my life! I should have never come!” You fling your arms up, turning back to the door. He grabs your arm and turns you back to him, a tight grip on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to seemingly scold you, and you're ready to bite back. You notice him scanning over your facial features, and his expression seems to falter.

“What happened to you?” He runs a clawed finger delicately across the scar on your cheek. It had faded but was still visible. You wince at his touch, which makes him pull his hand back.

“Oh, don't act like you care.” You mumble.

“Of course, I care.” His soft response forces a pained groan from your lips.

“All these sweet words you’re saying.. I-I don’t know what to think with that ridiculous smile.. I can't take you seriously!” Your voice is beginning to crack, losing the strength to have this go on.

“About that-”

“I hate you.” He flinches at your words, Out of everything you’ve said, you don't understand why that seems to silence him. He grips onto his chest, his coat and shirt scrunching into his fist. You watch him drop his head, bracing himself on his desk that he had stumbled to. You’re sure he’s being dramatic. Hamming it up to get some sort of pity. A sigh passes your lips.

“Um.. Alastor… I didn't mean to-” His act only fools you a little bit. You wonder if you’ve let out too much steam. If he really-

Before you can finish any other thoughts, he collapses to the floor.

“Fuck-” You quickly move to his side, flipping him to his back and helping him at least prop himself up against a wall. “Should I get-”

“Don't tell the others.” He breathes out, putting his hand up dismissively. With the wave of his hand, you see the blood across his palm. Your eyes follow the source to a continuously growing stain on his top. The sight of blood didn't seem to bother you after everything. “Just help me up.”

“O-Okay.” You do as he says, helping him stand. Almost feeling like an instinct, you pull his coat off of his shoulders. He struggles to keep up with the movement but still gives in. He quickly loses his strength and stumbles to the small couch nearby. You almost enjoy watching him stubbornly refuse your help.

“I.. might require.. some assistance.” He says it so softly you almost want to ask him to repeat himself. Even if you understood him just fine.

“You're asking for help?” You correct him, placing your hands on your hips.

“I don't need help.” He snaps. You would've been offended if you knew he was just to flustered to admit it.

“Then what do you need?” You sit beside him on the couch, placing your hand on his blood-stained shirt. He immediately winces.

“For.. you to stitch this up.” You start unbuttoning his shirt, your hands grazing the fluff of his chest with a mild curiosity. You finally get the full scope of a completely untreated slash that would've surely killed any human if left untreated. But for an almost immortal demon, it was just a painful nuisance. Very painful.

“From your fight with… You want me to help you stitch this up?” You ask because that it seems near impossible to do so, even with someone of your medical history. It's wide and seems to be covered with specks of gold. It feels like small shards of glass when you swipe your hand over him.

“.. yes.” He says quietly. You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him. He’s reckless, too stubborn to have looked at the wound because of its reminder of his defeat. And you know that's exactly why it got this bad. No matter how small, Alastor sees the smile growing on you.

“I missed your smile.” He says softly.

“Please stop saying things like that.. You're confusing me.” You make sure to speak your words quietly as if you don't want them to be heard. A small demonic creature rushes to your side, holding a tray up with the essentials to properly treat the slash. It stays perfectly still once in your reach.

You went to work, after some proper scolding, trying your best to keep the process as painless as possible. Every so often, you wonder why you are being so careful with him. He doesn't deserve your tenderness. Your thoughts are stopped when you see his hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away. His face is scrunched, a hiss passing by his tormented smile. You must've hit the wrong spot while lost in thought. Your eyes fall to his ring, again.

“Why did you keep this on?” You ask, examining his hand that’s still engulfing your wrist.

“It reminds me of you. And yours?” His voice is hushed, still recovering from the pain. You realize he has a full view of your own hand, your wedding band sitting just as clear to him.

“It.. reminds me of what you did to me.” You hear a quiet groan in response to your words, and he releases your arm, gripping the couch in its stead. You keep going.

“I'll admit, I was worried about you.. after the battle with Adam. Maybe it was Mimzy getting me all worked up..” You finally admit. You don’t want him to think you’ve spent your whole life and death hating him. But why would it matter either way?

“I can't be killed, you had nothing to worry about.” He replies, not willing to comment on your sudden vulnerability. Not in this position. All you can do is laugh at him. He's clearly talking out his ass.

“Looks like you got pretty close to it.” You scoff. His ears flatten, and he looks away like a stubborn child.

You finish up after an hour. It felt much longer. The silence with quiet quips mixed in, the surprisingly intimate moment, it was suffocatingly uncomfortable.

“I didn't want to come here. I was perfectly content in being in Hell. I didn't expect this form of torture.” You say, setting everything back onto the little tray presented to you. That little demon had been standing there this whole time. You notice it started shaking a while ago.

“Come now, you're being dramatic. You chose to find me, did you not?” He says, sitting a bit taller with the regained strength.

“I'm not being dramatic! You try to avoid Mimzy's constant nagging! I hear your voice everywhere, see all the ads for this hotel, and they made me a damn cat, Alastor!” You feel yourself starting to lose your composure, gripping your hair and letting out a pained laughter. “H-how unfair is that..?” You let out a weak chuckle, feeling tears well in your eyes. He pulls your hand away from your hair, brushing his thumb across your ring as he holds you for a moment longer.

“Completely unfair. Your appearance may be.. unappealing … to you, but your face is still the same. Your eyes still bright as usual, your smile just as sweet.” His sincerity is muddling your thoughts. Those thoughts that warn you he’s hurt you before. And now he’s a cruel overlord, he’ll hurt you again tenfold. You feel his thumb drag along your lip after realizing you had leaned in towards him.

“Still biting your lip, hm?” His static fades again, and you wince at the raw skin he's brushing over. Old habits apparently don’t die hard.

“N-nervous tick, I guess..” His closeness leaves you a bit breathless.

“Do I make you nervous?” His tone confuses you. There’s an underlying sense of worry, a genuine concern for your well-being. But you’re still distracted by his strange smile. You don’t have much time to think any further about it before you’re startled by gentle lips against yours. It’s quick but is more than enough to let out a flood of feelings you’ve been suppressing since the day you left your hometown. He looks at you with a sly smile on his face.

“I’m still mad at you.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He kisses you, again.

“Y-You don’t have to-” He interrupts you with another kiss.

“I know.” Still holding your face you barely take in his next words with a clear head. “I miss you.” Another kiss, just to throw you off this time, “I miss having you at my side.

Stay.. please.”

There was no way you would drop everything to live with a man you were barely married to in life. That didn't stop you from seeing him more, though. You were actually.. kind of glad to see him. To patch things up, even just a little. You’d visit, sneaking around at first to avoid any interaction from the other residents of the hotel. They were all more than intimidating to you. Especially considering one of them was the king of Hell. Alastor was more than happy to keep you away from him, though.

You updated Mimzy on how he was when you left that first night, but you left out the unimportant bits.. Like the giant angelic slash across his chest. You didn’t need Alastor to tell you that you shouldn't be going around spreading that information. A true accomplice. When Mimzy noticed you were visiting him to the point where you couldn't cover the bar when she needed you to, she was more than happy to kick you out. You knew exactly what she was doing. She didn't want you homeless, but you were essentially left with nowhere to go. Except for the hotel.

It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.. Things almost seemed normal. Alastor had lots of sucking up to do, even though he wouldn't call it that. He was definitely working at it. Making you breakfast like before, treating you like even higher royalty than he ever could while alive. He has the power to do so now and he fully intends to use it. And it’s working.. A little bit.

Okay, a lot.

You’re shocked that he still seems the same after becoming the powerful overlord he is. You’d love to convince yourself that none of that mattered, his status in Hell or what happened when you were alive. That you could just forget mortality to look forward to the potential future facing you. It’s easier said than done.

You're still struggling with your nightmares. Even more so in Hell, likely another form of punishment. Something about the hotel seemed to subdue some of them actually. As if the air were clearer here. It only helped most nights, though. Whenever you woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, clutching at your heart, there was only one thing to calm you. The radio at your nightstand would play a specific song. One that Mimzy was fond of, so you heard it most nights at her bar on Earth. Whenever you heard that, you knew he was there. He was waiting for you.

"Birdy?" You knock on his door, which seems to open slowly just from your touch. Alastor is sitting contently in front of his firepit. This wasn't the first time you've found him in the middle of the night.

"Another one, my love?" He tilts his head up slightly, the book he had in his hand shutting immediately. You nod your head slowly, already approaching him. Your blanket still wrapped around your shoulders is dragging across the ground. You give him a look he recognizes, and he nods at the implications. Without caution, you let out a tired whimper and plop into his lap. He pulls the blanket over your entirety.

Getting completely comfortable, he adjusts his arms to pull his book back to his eyeline. With your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you're too tired to conceal your little habit of purring. He doesn't mind, though. He loves it.

♡♡♡

Another big boy for ya 🫶

Human Alastor is really fun to write for, I had to do some research tho lol

I tried to keep Alastor's sexuality in mind, so I hope I represented it well. That's always something that makes me nervous when writing for Al 😬

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