#there’s no way to tell but I do kind of hope she’s the one I took from my parents’ porch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

44st4rs · 1 day

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YOU GOTTA DRESS THE PART!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: Your new boy toy made himself at home with just the clothes on his back. When asked where all his stuff's gone, all Toji can do is point to the same clothes he appeared to you with. If he's gonna play the role, might as well spoil him too!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 10k + words, pwp, dubcon, talks/mentions of death, use of petnames, use of an oc, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mirror sex, couch sex, oral(m. receiving), cûm eating, reader gets a little shy, fingering, clït slapping, brat tamer!toji, unprotected sex, panty stealing

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: part two is here and i don't know how it got...longer! oh well, it's nasty...and that's exactly how i love my fics to be, xoxo!

part 1! • the man for hire m.list

ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: XXX-XXX-XXXX

PAYMENT: + ¥ 40,000

Forty thousand yen stare Toji back in his awe-struck face. His thumb's back to swiping again, refreshing the screen as if he's expecting the amount to disappear magically.

But they're not, the five bolded digits simply return each time he dismisses them.

So he blinks. His eyebrow arches, his eyes squint, and he blinks at his phone blankly until something like a smile crosses Toji's features. In a single night, Toji finds himself dancing in Lady Luck's palm. He's got a roof over his head, a nice gig, and a pretty lady at his side—and all he really asked for was a few bucks for food.

He wants to mull over the second thoughts that arise—what if it's just a dream? What if it's too good to be true?

But the numbers on his phone don't lie and the wafting heat of the skillet he's working over isn't a dream.

"She didn't even tell me what she wanted..." Toji mutters as he places his phone down on the granite countertop. He teases the browning edges of the omelette with the spatula he kept in hand.

He doesn't usually take people's requests to heart, but for you—something about you makes him hang up his old ways. It's not like you were kind about it, demanding breakfast right before dozing off in his arms.

When he woke up a few hours earlier, Toji faced your sleeping form. He remembers how he captured you under his fawning gaze. He drank in the shallow breaths flooding your lungs, the supple pout pushed out onto your lips, and the way you wore sleep perfectly.

He didn't know how he ended up cradling you in his arms, but for some reason, Toji was willing to ignore the thought in place of the reality before him. You got comfortable with him fast—or just the presence of having someone else in bed with you once again.

That's when he remembers the notion sweeping over to leave your side with a kiss. A tender peck right on the corner of your mouth to let you know someway and somehow that he wasn't going too far.

Even after hours have passed and daylight's entered the room, he still can't put together why he did that—but regret isn't one of those sentiments.

But now he's here, dressed in nothing but the jeans he came to you with cooking you that desired breakfast. Between each flip of the omelette, Toji's eyes scan about your kitchen—gawking at how every countertop is a thick chiseled slab of red granite, gold accents for the handles of all the drawers, cabinets, and the refrigerator.

A vast island stands right underneath yet another chandelier, catching the peeking rays of sun from the windows. Barstools outline the outer wall along the kitchen's rim, making it the perfect penthouse kitchen.

When he first stumbled into your kitchen, he could only stare. And he still is, but the shock ebbs away with each dish he turns his attention to.

He's ending his working shift with the final plate for breakfast, the small salad joining the ranks of miso soup, steamed rice and rolled omlettes. While Toji's hoping you eat it all, he can't help but entertain the thought of how trusting you are of him.

Maybe it's because of his background and the world he hails from, but to ask a stranger to cook breakfast? What if he's malicious enough to poison you and rob you right in front of your dying eyes? Nothing's stopping him either, but he has his reasons. And then again, he's the one who initiated the verbal contract out of thin air.

You two were made for each other.

The soft creaks of bed springs pull Toji out of his mind and his eyes down the hallway again, piquing his attention.

He's graced by the sight of you, clutching that damned robe as you saunter down the hallway. The lazy steps of your stroll lead you beneath the sun's rays, kissing your skin with its gentle glow.

"Good...morning..." he fumbles over, his blown hues fixed on you.

You catch Toji's gawking stare, a grin teetering on your lips.

"G'morning, Toji. Thank you for cooking," you hum, slipping into a barstool across from Toji's workstation.

"You look real pretty this morning, Princess," Toji purrs as a dopey smile grows across his lips.

"You keep calling me that...why?" you quiz, stretching your arms along the smooth countertop.

"Cause...you're basically living in a castle—hm, more like a tower. And it looks like a castle in here. Feel like Princess is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I look at you."

You lean into Toji's ardor, cradling your chin within your soft palm."That would make you my knight in shining armor, no?"

Toji snickers as he looks down, his hand coming to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. "No, I'm just some guy trying to make a living. Thanks for the honor though, I'll do my best."

Your eyes roam over Toji and the display of his bare chest. It's a broad canvas of muscle, stretched beneath skin, scars, and the ripples of veins. Maybe there's another plus in this little arrangement if you get to wake up to this view every morning. You shamelessly let yourself wander over him, tracing each crest of his abs and the faint streak of hair beneath his navel.

Until you find yourself clinging to a familiar sight.

"Toji," you begin, "Isn't it uncomfortable to wear jeans this early?"

"Eh, it's whatever. Don't got nothing else."

"Nothing else? What do you mean?"

Toji leans over the counter, his features softening as he closes the distance between you both. He could laugh at your naïveté, but he knows you understand him—he didn't stutter. But he'll give in just to watch your face fix itself into some new cute expression, shocked by the state you found him in.

"What you met me in is all I got. 'Cept for the extra brush I found in your bathroom. By the way, who keeps sex toys under the sink?"

A look of utter shock breaks across your face—your eyes shot apart and your jaw slack. "No wonder there was a new brush next to mine! You went through my stuff?!"

Again Toji feigns innocence, hands waving defensively. "Calm down! I like to keep clean. I didn't mean to but I didn't wanna wake you up when I have common sense. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and now here we are."

"Toji...fine. But after we eat, we're going out."

"Where are we going?" He asks, reaching for two plates from the nearest cabinet.

"Ginza, we gotta get you some clothes, some shoes...eh, guess a little bit of everything."

"Ginza? Isn't there some malls 'round here we could go to instead?"

"Course there is, but I'm taking you to a place I know...personally."

"You're really spoiling me now. Turning into a sugar mommy—Oh! Should I just call you—"

"Keep talking and it's coming out of your paycheck."

Toji brings two plates with him as he settles into a stool beside you, placing the fragile dish in front of you. It's a collection of his labors–a small bowl of miso soup, rolled omelet slices, white rice, and a side salad made of tomato and cucumbers.

Toji shoots you one last smirk before turning into his own meal, "Hope you like it."

"Wow," you marvel, grinning at the colorful display, "I haven't eaten like this in a while."

"Huh? You've got all these ingredients and the space to cook. If you don't do that, then what do you eat?"

"Just some fruit, tea, some sandwiches. I rarely cook for myself these days, but it's getting better."

"Hm, is that right?"

Toji places an outstretched digit beneath the contours of your chin, tilting your head towards him. He's giving you a soft stare, his blue hues fanning over your stuffed cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. Way back when, I used to cook a lot, so I remember some recipes. But 'm not doing it alone, deal?"

You nod at Toji as he swipes along the plump curves of your visage, " 'Kay."

For a man you just hired, he's too kind to you. Since last night, he's been nothing but careful with you. He acts as if he's handling something so precious

"Toji, why are you so nice to me?" You ask between a bite of the fluffy steamed rice.

"Dunno," he shrugs, "This is the only way I know how to treat women. My last wives brought this side out of me. And as for you, it just feels natural. Why...want me to be an asshole to you?"

"No...it was just a thought," you mumble softly.

Then again, that's a passive answer Toji put together on the spot. How could he tell you about the sadness that lingers behind your eyes? It's not apparent to most, but there's a dark haze that blends itself into the color of the iris., dimming the soul's light beneath grief. Toji knows those eyes better than anyone else, especially when he himself dons the same look from time to time.

You cover it up behind a snarky attitude, but he knows that's not who you really are. Something tells him you're actually the complete opposite—a free-spirited soul who makes her own rules in life, a woman who leads with passion before anything else. Someone who opens up as they get comfortable, something he's noticing rather quickly.

And a woman just met one of the world's seven wonders too soon. He even said it to himself as he watched you snuggle up against his chest last night; for however long he ended up staying with you, he wanted to get to know you...the real you.

He can't stop thinking about it, how your bodies fell prey to one another within minutes last night. Your body fitting perfectly in his hands, responding to his every beck and call. Even now he's staring at your lips, swearing that just one more kiss could heal him from the inside out.

That's not something he's experienced before, even with his tattered love history. A whim brought him to your doorstep and this whim is what's leading you both down some new path together.

So if he had to wake up to make breakfast, accompany you on some one-sided outings, and give in to your fancies to see the real you, he'd do it all.

With his last bite, Toji places his chopsticks onto his clear plate. He glances over to you, your plate mirroring his own.

"C'mon," he announces as he stands from his seat. " We gotta get going, right?" I'll clean up here, go shower. Oh and Princess?"

"Yeah?"

Toji catches your eye with a stern squint. "Don't. Take. Long. Twenty minutes. Two. Zero."

"Fine," you scoff, standing on the tile floor at last.

Toji watches as you walk off, your hips bearing a salacious sway with each step.

"Fucking minx," he mumbles to himself as he tends to the cleaning.

Twenty minutes later, Toji strolls over to the couch with a much-needed break on his mind. He grabs his shirt from the couch, slipping the gray top over his shoulder and down his chest before settling into the couch's plush chocolate leather. He's back on his phone, scrolling endlessly through his emails and past texts to pass what seems to be an eternity. His eyes fall onto the time displayed on his screen: 11:24.

You're four minutes over the limit. Should he knock on the door? What if he finds you naked? Now that he thinks about it, that wouldn't bother him much, but his point still stands.

"Y/N! It's not twenty minutes anymore! Hurry up pl-"

"...Toji! I'm ready," you call out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The soft clicks echoing along the floor breaks Toji's train of thought. As he sits up, his eyes fall on you wearing a sage-green silk dress with a pair of strappy white heels. Your handbag matches your shoes, a detail that Toji finds himself appreciating with a mindless grin.

He stands to greet you, sheepishly slipping his hands into his pockets, "Wow, got me feeling a little underdressed now."

You meet Toji's gaze, arching an eyebrow at his words. "Well, don't. If you're gonna be living with me, we've gotta have you dressed the part. But I mean...if you want that. I'm not trying to force you or anything, I just have a feeling that you might want some options."

Toji joins your side, his hand eagerly resting along your lower back. He's wearing a dumb smirk on his face, watching you click the elevator doors open.

"Aww, trying to be considerate, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Let's get going."

Toji follows behind you, stepping into the small chamber. The scene of the living room closes out before him and he's left with you to muse over. You and that pretty outfit that he's obsessing over. His hand has yet to move from you, not that he has the intention to. He doesn't care if it's shameless or outright wrong, Toji just can't help but stare at you. It's barely been a full day and just your beauty has Toji willingly tied around your finger.

You could ask anything of him and he'd be ready to oblige. In truth, he's brimming with half the nerve to tug that dress up your waist and take you on right here and now. But that's too brash and he knows that. Instead, he's hoping you'll leave him something for the chase of imagination.

"Y/N? Look at me for a sec," Toji hums as his fingers tap against the fabric of your dress.

At Toji's demand, your eyes trace up to his own, the azure hues blown wide. The hand he keeps at your back takes on a new path, sinking along the contour of your hip. He's pulling you dangerously close, the fading scent of the cologne on his shirt filling your nose. You aren't even aware of how quickly you give into his advance, your hand sinking into the shielded profile of his chest.

"Give me a kiss."

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because," you shrug, "I said so."

Toji's pout is a cute one. His bottom lip bears all the jutting weight, his eyes widen with each mindless blink, and the huff that breaks into the air almost makes you want to take back your cold response. It takes all of your strength from laughing at his ebbing resolve, your teeth biting down at the innards of your cheeks.

"Because...you said so?" Toji repeats as he points a finger towards you.

"Yup. 'Cause I said so."

The soft ding of the opening elevator doors pulls you and Toji from the growing heat of the conversation, revealing the building's lobby.

The softly dimmed space draws you and Toji out of the elevator. You've seen it a million times but it's a sight that claims you with ease. The lobby relies on the power of natural lighting, but with its ambient lighting, it's nothing short of welcoming. The polished cream walls wear tile and the green vines of outgrown plants. The only piece of furniture to exist on the waxy hardwood floor is the front desk, occupied by a certain someone.

"Oh, good morning, Y/N! Out for the day?" a voice greets, earning you and Toji to find the source.

The voice stems from the doorman, Daisuke. He's sixty-five, tall with a softened physique of muscle. Only a handful of wrinkles line his fair skin—the typical crow's feet and smile lines. His eyes are of a deep chocolate, but so soft on whoever they land on. His salt and pepper hair stops just shy of his ears, barely hiding his array of piercings.

Daisuke always works the day shift, with his younger counterpart claiming the night. From conversations you've had over the years, Daisuke was a delinquent back in his younger days but mellowed out once he settled down with his current wife.

You and Toji find yourselves journeying toward Daisuke, you both resting along the rim of the shiny wooden surface.

Daisuke sets his attention on you, smiling as he awaits a response.

"Yup! Going down to Ami's for the day!" your words paired with a grin.

"Good, Good...good..." Daisuke trails off. His sights fall over Toji, scanning every bit of Toji's face. Daisuke's sights fall over Toji, his brown hues narrowing down over Toji.

His disapproval is sketched out with a frown, his upper lip arched with disgust. Daisuke isn't one to hide his opinion, especially towards the man trying to court you. He simply stares at Toji until he's ready to speak, his tone honoring his distaste.

"Who might this be, Miss?"

"Oh! Um...this is Toji...he's uh—"

"An old friend," Toji quickly interrupts. "I'm always traveling for work and finally caught a long enough break to visit Y/N."

"E-Exactly! An old friend..." you nervously fumble out, attaching a weary smile to settle your case.

"Mhm...well, I'm not gonna stop you any longer. Have fun you two!" Daisuke sensing your unease. He waves goodbye to you and Toji as you both walk away towards the doors.

Your digits reach for the golden handle of the door, only for Toji to take the lead. With a heavy push, he opens the door for you to pass. But he's waiting for you to get close, so close that he's right behind you, pressing his chest flush against your back.

He leans in, the heat of his breath brushing past the shell of your ear. "Allow me...friend."

You peer back at Toji, rolling your eyes at his comment. "You called yourself my friend, don't get mad at me...friend."

"Fine, what were you going to call me then?"

The question plagues you into a moment of silence, an audible gasp escaping from your lips. All you can do is blink at him, your fluffy lashes batting themselves until you can finally utter something back to Toji's waiting ears.

"You...you talk too much. Let's just get down to Ginza, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," he sighs, walking beside you once more.

But there's some truth between the lines of Toji's sassy remarks.

Despite Toji's hand slipping into your own as you begin your trek, you can't bring yourself to deny him. His presence carries an ease that calms your heart. It's so calming that you can't begin to pinpoint what he is to you. A stranger? To an extent, but in time that title is going to fade away. If he's a friend, then he shouldn't be this kind with you. A lover, no, but the tendencies aren't so far off.

So....who is Toji Fushiguro to you?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A six-minute train ride and an additional ten-minute walk carry you and Toji face to face with a small building at the end of the block. To the unfamiliar eye, nothing about the store stands out. Not the white brick, not the pink awning, not the vintage door with a grand gold door knob.

And with an unfamiliar eye like the one Toji has, he's scanning over the building. You've brought him to a tailor but that's the opposite of what he needs. He quickly glances over his appearance, there wasn't a hole that he could spot but maybe you have better eyes than he did. He's confused but that doesn't stop him from opening the door for you.

"A tailor? My clothes don't need fixing, Princess," Toji notes as he reaches for the door handle.

"I know, Toji. We're getting you custom-made clothes, silly," you giggle, slipping past the opened door.

The soft scent of clean linen pulls you inside the quaint shop, Toji coming to stand by your side. Your eyes rave about the open floor, not a clothing rack, display table, or mannequin is in sight. Thick palettes of cloth hang from the wall, replacing the initial white-painted walls in splashes of color.

There's cotton, silk, wool, chiffon, and denim just from what you can name. A few doors line the right wall, and the kanji for fitting rooms are inscribed into the wood. Your eyes fall onto another door, placed alone and along the furthest wall of the shop labeled with a name that's too far to read.

Roaming steps lead you deeper inside, the presence of the service desk landing in view. Your curious gaze hinges on the figure of a woman. She's busied herself with something in a notebook, her pen furiously translating her thoughts. Long thick locks of gray shroud her face as she's bent over along the desk's surface, but with the smile stretching across your face, you knew who the woman was all too well.

"Ami!" you squeal, waltzing towards her with open arms.

Ami breaks away from her work to meet you, her cheeks pulled taunt by a full-bodied smile. As she steps away from the counter, you glance over Ami giddily. From the last time you visited her, she hasn't changed.

She dons a veil of gray with grace these days, not a strand of her rich black hair left. She's still wearing that soft expression—her doe eyes wide and brown, her brows eased and plucked thin, her skin fair and gentle, and her lips wear a forever smile.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N!" Ami beams as she pulls you into her arms, the sleeves of her blue sweater pushing along your skin.

"You're glowing, my dear. And you're wearing the dress, it looks so—well, who might this be?" She cuts off, directing her sights to Toji.

You step back from Ami to join Toji's side, giving him a kind yet warning stare. You can't control what he's planning to say, but from what you've gathered so far, he's a blunt man. A blunt man who calls the situation exactly how he sees fit—without shame.

"Hi, I'm Toji," he waves. " Y/N here is my mistr—"

"Friend! He's going to say friend!" You blurt out, welcoming an awkward silence.

You don't have to look at Toji, the heat of a grim squint tells you everything you need to know. You're back to using that damned word, but what else fits? As much as you want to calm him, selling this story to someone as keen as Ami is taking all your focus and energy not to crack beneath the pressure.

Your heart's running on nervous fumes, an echoing pang clogging your ears. All you can do is suffer beneath Ami's careful observation, her big brown doe eyes thinning into a stern squint. She's standing there with her arms folded to her chest, darting her sights from you and Toji.

You're wearing a smile but it's a shaky one, the corners of your mouth quivering with each passing second. You don't know what sort of smile she sees and that's the fact that scares you. You can't tell if she's buying it, but she isn't prying at you for an honest reply.

"Well...it's nice to meet you, Toji! So, what can I do for my favorite customer?"

A sigh of relief pours from your chest, as you lean into Toji's hold, your head resting against his shoulder. His hand quickly laces around your waist, instantly ruining all of your hard work.

So much for being a friend.

"It's him, I wanna get him some custom clothing. Whatever he wants."

"Great! Then I'll leave the hard work to you! Do you mind measuring him?"

"Measure me? Isn't a large enough for me?" Toji asks, turning to you with knitted brows.

"Well, yes a large is enough for you, but it doesn't complement you. Here, I'll show you."

Taking his hand into your own, you lead Toji before a mirror, the glass pane slotted between two fitting room doors. In the reflection, you stand beside Toji, your hand running along the front of his shirt.

"Your proportions aren't something an average man like you has, which means that there's always gonna be spots where there's too much or too little fabric. Like here..."

The tips of your fingers pinch at the hem of Toji's gray thermal, tugging at the loose fabric surrounding his waist. "You've got a small waist but wide shoulders. This shirt looks decent on you, but it's literally just sitting on your body. Let's see if a top made with a bit more for your shape works better."

"Oh, I don't care about that," Toji begins, his stare falling onto you. "As long as I got something on my body. But since you're going out your way for me...I'll try anything once."

You give Toji a faint smirk, his charm's enough to make any woman fall for him.

"Ami," you announced. "We'll be in the fitting room. I'll be done with his measurements in a bit!"

You guide Toji to the lone door at the back of the shop, your hand reaching for the sliver handle–until Toji catches a particular detail.

"Huh...who's name is that on the door?"

"Oh, that's mine. It's a private fitting room made just for my late husband and I," your digits tracing the engraved characters.

"How'd you land that—"

"Oh, Toji!" Ami calls out before you both disappear into the room. "Do you have any fabric preferences? I wanna pick some out while I wait for the measurement."

"Nope, just use your judgment, ma'am," his words inducing a smile along Ami's features.

"Great! There's measuring tape in the room already. So go get measured and I'll pick out some colors and fabric for you!"

You give Ami a nod before sinking past the doorframe with Toji. The door opens up into a dimly lit circular room, welcoming you back with the soft scent of vanilla.

"Just how we left it..."you whisper to yourself, looking around the room.

It's not a huge room, but it's comfortable for two people. Panes of glass line the walls, looping around the curved walls. In the center of the room stands a toffee leather divan bolted to the ground, accompanied by a small glass table with magazines, a candle, and a roll of measuring tape.

"Wow...so this is all yours?" Toji gawks as he strolls around the room. Everywhere he turns, his reflection is everywhere—along with your own. He's stuck on studying your agile steps to the small coffee table, taking the measuring tape in hand. You're twirling it in the palm of your hand as a smile crowds your visage.

"Yeah. Years back, my husband and I were in the neighborhood and came across this place. At the time we needed some clothes for an event coming up and Ami was willing to make them just for us. When we got the order and saw how nicely they fit us, we were sold. My husband and I invested in this place and had it renovated. As a gift, Ami wanted us to build a room just for us and that's exactly what we're standing in."

"So...long ago," you muse. The memory isn't that old but it feels like an eternity has passed since that fateful day. The room that was made as a gift was merely nothing more than a memoir of memories made with you and your late husband.

Until your drifting sights latch on to Toji. He's standing a few feet from you with his hands in his pockets. His head's fallen into a tilt, concern weaving into his features.

"Never mind that, it's in the past now. Ami also works with socialites, doctors, lawyers, governors, anyone really," you brush off swiftly, spinning around to face Toji.

"Mhm..." he mumbles. "So what do you need from me?"

"Could you take your shirt off and stand in front of me? And just relax."

Your instructions are followed down to the letter, Toji presenting himself before you. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the divan's cushion. He keeps his arms at his sides, waiting for your next instructions.

"Good...now just let me..." you mutter, pressing the white strip of leather to Toji's skin.

Silence falls over the room, but the tension between you and Toji grows with no bounds. You're gentle when you touch him, placing the marked leather along the curves of Toji's body—his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and sculpted forearms. You save his chest for last, carefully placing the measuring tape along the hull of his rippling pecs.

All Toji can do is watch you hard at work. He's picked up on a quirk of yours, how you bite your lip whenever you're focused. He's touched honestly with how much effort you're putting into him, all this effort put for him.

"I still need an answer, y'know." Your words pulling Toji from his thoughts.

"For?"

You roll the tape back into a small ball, finally setting your attention on Toji. You stare at him with kind eyes, letting your touch explain all he needs to know. The pads of your digits trace the burly hull of his chest, languidly following the rigid print of his faded scars.

"These. How'd you end up with 'em?"

A chuckle rings from his lungs, Toji's chest rippling beneath your wandering touch. He's looking at you, his stare flickering at every inch of your face. Underneath his dim lighting, he's intrigued by the glow behind your eyes. It's a blur of curiosity with the hues of tease. It's a deadly mix—the same deadly mix that rushes through Toji's veins every single day.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm not the best guy? I get into fights for a living and these are simply my reminders of what I do."

"That's fine."

You're...unfazed. He has to blink a few times to register it all—but you simply present him with the same look. He just told you he's no good. Maybe it's too subtle of a warning.

So...He tries again.

"And what if I said my hands are dirty? I'm a selfish man who only lives for himself and the money I make. What would you say about that?"

"That's fine, too."

"God, you're so—"

"Stupid? Crazy?" you interrupt. "If you wanted to hurt me, I gave you all the chances to...and I'm still here. Paint yourself to be the bad guy if you want, try to scare me away...but I don't care. We have a deal remember? And breaking a deal is just bad business."

A smirk cracks along Toji's lips, "Oh, I'm gonna like you."

"Come on, I need to measure you more. Take your pants off too," you huff, stepping back from Toji.

Toji's hand rustles with the metal clasp of his belt, yanking the leather strap loose around his hips, yanking his belt loose. His pants follow the same pattern, the unclasped button granting him the freedom of space. The denim falls from his waist, revealing a black pair of briefs sitting snugly around him.

"I thought you didn't have extra clothes," you ponder aloud as you drop to your knees.

"I always keep an extra pair of underwear."

"Is that right? Well, just stand still and we'll be done soon," your focus already shifting to the small red numbers lacing around his thighs.

And it's a simple task asked of him, but nothing's ever simple with Toji. He's doing his best to behave but innocence isn't and has never been his forte. It's because of you he's struggling beneath a pesky heat that's running amok over his body. He's just too wary of how close you were to him.

He's catching your hot breaths with the front of his briefs, bringing a flurry of twitches to strum through his cock. He has to stand there and ignore how your soft hands travel along his thighs, working so hard to get an accurate number.

Why oh why do you have to look so cute on your knees for him?

Toji's so drawn by his racing imagination, that he nearly misses your question.

"How do you like pants to fit?"

"Oh...some days tight. Some days loose."

"C'mon," you scoff, peering up at Toji. "I need a real answer."

All he can offer you is a coy smile, hiding all his intentions behind the gesture. "Sorry, Princess, I just can't focus right now. Ask me the question again."

"And...what are you doing that you can't focus?" your lips pushing out a pout.

"Don't do that—you know why. I mean, you look so pretty on your knees, doing all this work for me. Can't blame me for these thoughts, they just...come in, y'know?"

You shake your head, "Toji, focus. Let's be pro—"

"Don't shut me down like that. It's always been a fantasy of mine, a quickie in a fitting room."

Toji's hand breaks away from his side to tease you. His thick digits curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to bear the searing heat of his gaze.

"Can't tell me you haven't thought of it too, Princess."

A sigh breaks from your lungs as you drop the roll of measuring tape on the floor. Your hands are eager to be filled, stretched around something thick. It's no wonder that your digits choose Toji's thighs for the job. He fits perfectly in your palm, but he's just so big that your two hands alone can't form a proper grip around him. Your only resort is to tease him, dragging your nails to paint his skin red.

"...And maybe I have. Doesn't mean I should give into it."

Your nails trail up his sides, down the developed curves of his abs, and slowly hang right under his navel. He's playing it off well, but the chills that lick Toji's nerves tell you all you need to know. Antipcipation's making him sensitive from this point on, a ploy that's set to work in your favor. You dress his skin with a single line, the faint flare of crimson mapping your path down to his pelvis.

"Toji?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"So, it's fine for me to do such a dirty job now?"

Toji's thumb swipes along your bottom lip, "Shhh, just for today, it's okay. I know that greedy mouth wants to taste me."

Toji allows himself to fall into lust by settling into the comfort of the divan, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He isn't wasting any time to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He already went back on his word—and might as well follow through with his lustful agenda for the moment. He makes quick work of his briefs, tugging the black cotton down his legs. The concealed bulge of his breaks free from its stifling confines, his dribbling cock slapping against his stomach.

All you grant him is a grin of approval as you crawl between his legs, your hands surfacing atop his thighs. But that grin you wear so proudly fades away with the first peck you place along his tanned length. Your lips are met by the quivers of spry veins rising beneath Toji's skin, a testament to the growing pit in his tummy.

Your eyes don't dare to part from his, basking beneath the ravenous glare he's cast upon you. All Toji can do is watch—watch as your playful kisses paint his cock in the pinky hues of your lipgloss.

He's cracking right before you, his lungs barely grasping the thickening air. He's hard, painfully hard at that. All his thoughts rush straight to the crown of his cock, sending an aching headache to rile the swelling tip. He's falling back into the nasty habit of impatience thanks to the mess of pearly tears trailing down his girth, leaving you to catch every drop.

Your lips curve along the juicy tip, suckling at the thick vein that flushes out the underside of his cock. You're so gentle with him that he's flinching, his hips bucking into the air. He's whimpering at your tender display, but that's not all you're pulling from him. Creamy beads drip from Toji's slit, dyeing your skin in his shade of white.

"Mhm, stop teasing me, Princess. Making my cock all pretty with your kisses. Want me you cum just like too, don't—Shit!"

Your puckering pout stretches along the head of Toji's cock, pulling him into your mouth inch by inch. The hot, salty tears of his precum greet you first, the instant reminder flooding your dumbed brain. His essence is something to relish, that deep musk sinking past your senses. Just the taste of him stirs up your mind, prying at some hidden carnal urge.

You're hungry for him, that hidden urge turned into the sin of gluttony. You're hungry for every drop of him, to have his flavor simmer on your tongue for as long as possible.

That newfound urge of yours, your mouth eagerly swallows Toji down to the last inch, your nose cutting into the dark bushel of hairs. But he's so big that you can't keep this up forever. It's a last resort but all you can do is form a loose fist at the base of his cock, softly squeezing at his girth.

"Thaaaat's it, take it all down your throat," Toji cheers, his palm cupping your cheek gently.

It's such a dirty display that Toji can't help but stare—your lips split around his girth. You're leaving him to gawk stupidly at you. There's spit carelessly spilling from the corners of your mouth, whimpers singing from your housed throat and pretty tears staining your skin. You've barely started and you're already driving yourself into a mess on his behalf.

Just his type of woman—so shy, so reserved, but so fucking nasty that not even a picture would be enough proof.

As you find a cadence to strum along to, you suck your cheeks in around Toji. It's a gentle cocoon, wrapping his cock's wrapped in a heaven of velvety bliss. You even enlist your hand to help with your salacious endeavors, the balled fist dragging up and down Toji's sticky length. Now, you're really spoiling him, pitting him to bear the silky fat writhing around his plump cock.

He can't help it, lifting his hips to meet your worked mouth. His hands race to brace the back of your head, his palms smothered over your ears. With the brash snap of his hips, you've driven yourself numb to everything that wasn't Toji.

You've even become numb to your surroundings, nearly dismissing the soft knock on the room's door.

"Y/N! I'm gonna get started on some samples. What are the measurements, darling?"Ami's voice filters through the stained air.

"Better hurry up 'nd tell her. Can't have poor Ami watching her favorite client make a mess of herself," Toji taunts, his hand coming to replace your grip over his cock.

"Oh, yes! His height is 188 cm, waist 72.6 cm, chest 110cm, upper arm 42.5 cm, wrist 19 cm, and collar 38cm! W-We'll come back for the pants another day!"

"Wonderful! I'll get right to work then!" Ami hums. Her shadow beneath the door's crack disappears, taking along that plunging throb in your tummy.

"Toji! That was too—"

The tip of Toji's cock taps at your lips, halting any words to fall from your busy mouth. "Shhhh, I can't wait any more! Finish what you started...or...should I?"

Before you can get a word out, Toji's stuffing his cock back into your mouth, selfishly launching himself back into that drunken bliss with a feverish drive.

With each buck of his hips, Toji's shamelessly engraving himself into you—every vein, every curve, every detail of him engrained to the inner plush of your cheeks. He's addicted to it—to you. Your mouth's just so warm, so soft, so tender. He's losing himself to you without the hope of ever pulling back.

"Oh, that's fuckin—Shiiiit, please....please, y're gonna make me cum!" He chokes out.

Through the budding mist of your lashes, you peer up at Toji, studying his battered form. His teeth are gritted, his fists balled up and with the curse of twitches riddling his cock tells you one thing—he's ready to cum. Toji tosses his head back, the devastation crashing through his body. You're bringing him so close to the edge, but it's teetering on a line he can't cross without you.

"Awww, you like this dick, filling up your pretty little mouth like that?"

A sloppy nod is all you can conjure as the tip of Toji's cock nudges at the back of your throat. His greed's bringing about tears to your eyes, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

He's chuckling at you for the moment until a crippling heat lays seize to his nursed cock. That pit in his stomach is meeting its limit, forcing Toji to sob out slurred curses of his timely demise.

"Fuck! 'm cumming, 'm cumm-"

Toji drags his twitching cock against your tongue for the last time, pulling away from your gaping mouth. His hand rushes to grip the base of his cock, squeezing every drop of him to rush to the mushroomed head. He smears the tip along your tongue, forcing the slick muscle to dip beneath its weight.

"There's your fucking mess, Princess. Don't waste a drop, 'kay?"

His scent swells within the caverns of your mouth, the thick ropes of white sputtering from the fat juicy crown. A grin spreads itself thin over your lips as Toji ruins your mouth with his scent, drinking down the forbidden fruits of your labor.

"Oh...fuuucck," the words mindlessly falling from Toji's broken lips.

It's such an honor for him, bearing witness to your puffy lips nuzzling along his twitching cock. He's made a real mess of himself but you're here, using that tongue of yours to melt away his sins from white to clear. And you do the job well, all evidence of his high sitting along your tongue.

Such a good girl he's got on his hands.

"C'mere," Toji groans, his hands racing to your own. With his hands for balance, you quickly recover onto your feet. It's a team effort—you pull the dress over your head and he's busy with yanking your panties down your legs.

"Turn around–yup, come sit, I wanna show you something."

He drags you down to his level, seating you on his lap with his hands clipping to your hips. Toji's chest defines the arch that befalls your spine, his skin flush against you.

Toji cups at your jaw, his digits sinking into your cheeks. He's got your full, undivided attention, his hold directing your sights to your reflections.

You're dumbly gawking at the lewd display, your nude form melding into Toji's. You couldn't try to separate where your body begins and where his ends, that's just how close Toji kept you. You look so small in his hold, your hands desperately clinging to his biceps.

His presence is commandeering, even with you as the painting's main subject. Not to mention that just between your legs, his cock's hidden away behind the wall of your smothered thighs, hidden from sight but twitching with anticipation. It's just so...so—

"Spread your legs, Princess. 'M not done with you."

You're hesitant to oblige but your legs still creak apart, all the same, granting for Toji's hand to tend to your cunt.

The thick pads of Toji's digits nestle along the puffy lips of your pussy, spreading the sticky mess apart with a grin.

"Fuck, she's so pretty," he marvels at the reflection. He's lost in the picture your pussy paints in the mirror for him, his digits melding into the precious pink hues hidden between your folds.

It's a sticky mess, but he couldn't care less. He's using such care with you as he traces the fragile curve of your folds, gawking at how your hips buck into his touch.

"Look Princess, god, your pussy's so cute. Wonder what'll happen if I do...this..."

His fingers sink past your folds, the delicate petals glued to his touch. He's rubbing out languid strips to ease those woes of yours, his digit slinking through the sticky channel of essence.

That same finger comes to tease your clit, nudging the glossy pearl spry beneath his touch. And you can't hide it, that sprawling heat growing between your legs. Your clit's overtaken by that heat, the nerves answering Toji's call.

Toji's too gentle for his own good, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of you. And he's winning, thanks to the thickening veil of your honey staining his lithe fingers.

"C'mon look, Princess," he urges, his eyes hinging over the lewd display. "It's too pretty for just me to see."

"N-No, Toji. It's too much!" you squirm, but the hold he has over your jaw doesn't budge not even an inch.

His lips press at the curve of your shoulder, his greedy tongue slipping past to lick a lazy trail along your skin as he takes to the shell of your ear.

"'Nd why's it too much for you, Baby? Too much to see how cute your pussy is? You just gotta, but...I guess I can tell you since you don't wanna see..."

"No, Toji, wait!—"

"Shhh, did you hear that?" His fingers gently drumming at your gasping slit. "Oh, you're so fucking wet."

"Mm, 'm not gonna look Toji."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to! D-Do I have to look, it's feels so good—"

"You don't wanna look? Ha! that's real cute, Princess. Something a brat like you would...Hm...don't tell me you're a brat, mommy...I like those."

"Mm, No, Toji. I can't—" you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

"So that's how it is?" Toji sneers. His voice carries a cold annoyance with you. You know he's planning something to combat your arrogance, something made just for you.

Toji's fingers fan across the sloppy mess of your folds, his thick digits landing a firm slap over the twitching bud of your clit.

Your breathy gasp falls on his ears, but without a care to be found, he's merely ignoring you. His stare turns cold as he scans your splayed rest against his chest. You aren't even making an attempt to free yourself with a response–just keeping your eyes screwed shut and your head whipped away from the mirror's grand reflection.

"Well...are you?" Toji pries sternly. " 'M not gonna stop til you say something. Not when I'm liking this cute lil' pussy."

And not a lie falls from Toji's barred tongue. The lewd crashes of his slicked fingers against your pitiful cunt rings around the room. He's playing with your clit as if he's forgotten that you could cum at any given moment, forgoing composure for the time being. You're just so wet, dripping with the same essence that drives him near mad. He wants a taste so bad, his mouth watering at how your pussy squelches beneath his touch.

Yet all those wishes and desires bubbling at the forefront of Toji's mind didn't stop his fingers from finding the cute bulb, the weeping throbs melding into the tips of his punishing digits.

Your rambling sobs threaten to drown the sweet symphony, Toji simply grins. Your cries are nothing when his blows can carry just a little more weight. His hand winds back this time, cutting through the air to deliver a stinging jolt to trace through your hips.

"Fuck, Toji, okay, okay!" you whine at last, " 'M not a brat!"

Toji halts his wrist for the moment. Finally, you're giving up, another land of his slaps and he's sure you would've soaked his pants. He moves to soothe your throbbing clit with a rewarding slew of laggardly drawn circles.

"Then, tell me... what are you?"

"A...A...princess."

Toji grins as he presses a kiss along your puckering pout. "Good girl! That attitude isn't for you, too pretty for that. 'Nd I like hearing manners from that mouth of yours."

Toji groans as he pulls you further along his lap. His cock's nuzzled right between the curve of your ass and that spout of friction sends his dormant nerves buzzing yet again.

It doesn't help that he's been catching your slick from his lesson of discipline a thick stream of gloss dripping down his cock. Blood rushes to cram into every inch of his cock. Toji can't even try to hide it, not when his cock's growing so heavy that it's bearing that familiar upright curve again.

"Oh shit...'m getting–"

Your hand reaches down between your legs to lace around his girth, the pads of your digits drifting around the blushing tip.

Your hands are so soft that Toji's flinching, his hips jerking as your fist encircles the mushroomed tip. "Sorry, Dollface. Should've grabbed some condoms before coming here.

"I don't mind if we don't use one."

"A-Are you sure? Really, I can wait for when we–"

Toji's long-winded pleas fall short on your ears, your lithe hands swiftly aligning him with your hole.

"Toji," you coo.

"Yes?"

"Hurry up and fuck me already...please."

A part of Toji wishes you wouldn't use such a word—fucking. He isn't fucking you and hasn't been since last night. Not when he wants to see your cute expression, trying to guess how deep he's ended up. He isn't fucking you when he wants to hold you just like this, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms.

He's too interested in finding ways to ruin you just to be fucking you.

He hasn't found a word to describe what exactly he's doing the moment his cock sinks into you, but it surely isn't anywhere near something as heartless and crude as "fucking".

The head of his cock paints your slit in sloppy kisses before his girth robs you of composure. He's watching the swelled mounds of your folds split at his length, painting the throbbing veins in your essence. You feel so good around him, enveloping his cock in your heat.

But it's something he shouldn't even have the honor of bearing witness to, especially when you're back to hiding in the crook of his neck.

"C'mon, let's watch together," he purrs, cupping your jaw firmly once more within his broad digits. He's directing your sights to the pane of glass before you both, your flaring eyes gawking at the scene.

"We can see everything, baby. Get to finally see how greedy this pussy is too–fuck. Taking every inch of me...just...like...that."

He's back to stretching you again, his pudgy girth bullying your pussy to accept him. But his face tells you a different story, his skin flushed in bliss's shade of rouge. He's squirming beneath you, desperately trying to stop himself from getting ahead. He's filling your ear with rambles, mumbling off some mantra of being patient.

Toji's patience's warranted when he huffs out a groan, tossing his head back when he buries himself to the hilt at last. The hairs decorating the base of his cock brush against you as he grinds his hips against your ass, the bush of onyx tickling the bare skin of your cunt.

"See?" he groans breathlessly, "Did such a good job, Baby! N-Now, lemme...lemme make this pussy all mine."

The languid drop of Toji's hips pulls you from his lips, a weak keen escaping your lips. He buys himself an inch or two before flooding your senses again, the thich crown of his cock pecking at your core.

Toji's noticing how you ease up each time he meets your sweet spot with a kiss.

He brings his hips to an angle when his hips drop this time. He's praying that the thick curve of his underside works in his favor to hit all your sweet spots in a single stride. His hands reach to cup at the back of your knees, pinning your limp body to his own.

"Ohmy–fuuuuck, Toji!"

The crashing barrage of waves his hips carry rip through your pert ass, trailing all the way to the underside of your thighs. Suddenly, he's reaching so much deeper than before, his eyes bearing witness to his cock stretching with ease. His excitement's getting the better of him, coaxing Toji to feed your poor cunt with relentless strides.

"That's it, Princess, take that fucking dick!"

Your lips unwind at his praise, his name rolling off your lolling tongue. In the heat of your bliss, you steal a glance at your silhouettes in the mirror, eyes falling right on the sinful fixture of where you and Toji meld. It's a dizzying sight to swallow, your hazy stare watching your own cunt swallow down Toji for every inch he has. It's so lewd but...so...so mesmerizing!

It's wrong but you can't look away from the swell of your lips splitting around the fat of his cock. It's like he belongs there with the way his hips snap riveting strokes to flush your pussy raw. He's pulling everything out of you, rousing the overwhelming swell of heat to rile your nerves.

He's harboring a resilient drive now, earning the badge of a thick white ring wrapped around the base of his cock. But he isn't working this hard for nothing. He's trying to drown out the facts of just how good you feel around him.

Your fluttering walls coddle his shaft with pecks, the suckling heat gnawing at his ebbing resistance, the way you're peering at him with those eyes—those blown hues begging for just an inch of relief. You've got Toji's body running hot, thriving off nothing but carnal lust.

He knows you're close, but he wants to cum with you even more. He's more than aware of the fact that if he hits your core just one more time, that would be your undoing.

But you just can't cum yet...you can't.

Toji graces your visage with a kiss, pity souring his thoughts. You're ruined by him; tear-stained cheeks, spit-ridden lips, and the dumb rambles falling from your mouth prove his theory to be true.

"You wanna cum, don't you, Princess?"

"Y-Yes...p-please, Toji!" you sniffle, nodding frantically at his inquiry.

"T-Then cum with me!" he sobs, his forehead dipping into the crook of your neck.

Your bodies catch the seizing hold of anticipation, the promise of bliss breaking over you. "Mmm, Tojiiii!" you hysterically bawl.

It's selfish to seek out his aid but the pit in your tummy's too much for you alone to handle this time. It's a sweeping spasm, capturing your body whole. Hot white steaks lick across your skin as you arrive at your high. It takes every ounce of your being to sustain, your back bearing a harsh arch. Just as it came, your high quickly ebbs away from you, rendering you into a panting mess.

Toji does all he can to free himself from your silky walls, his hips dropping from your own. He's pitted his cock to relish the final moments alone before the compelling surge of white explodes from the fat head, your inner thigh lathered rich in his scent.

"Fuckfuckfuck, I c-can't stop—hnn!" Toji blubbers, his stomach caving in against your back. He tosses his head back along the divan's frame, writhing beneath the weight of his high pins upon him.

Your blurry vision falls onto Toji, basking in what his own orgasm had planned for him. He's gritting his teeth. You want to help him, but just as your own, this is something Toji has to bear on his own.

All you have for him is a kiss, your lips simmering at the corner of his mouth. It isn't even a minute before your kind gesture is returned by Toji. It's soft kiss, his lips barely sinking into yours. He lazily pulls away, wearing a weak smile to greet you.

"T-Thank you, Princess."

"C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm sure Ami is waiting out there," Toji croaks, pressing one last peck to your cheek.

You nod weakly, planting yourself on the plush carpet. Toji follows right behind you with his hand too fond of your lower back. He helps you first, slipping the sage dress down your body before tending to himself.

"Oh," he calls out, reaching for your panties. "You don't need this right?"

"And what are you going to do with them?"

Toji stuffs the lacy material into his back pocket, tugging away any evidence of his perverted ways.

"Told you I'm no good. I steal too."

"Go ahead...but it's just because I'm too tired to argue right now," you hint as you wait for him by the door.

You and Toji quickly slip past the private fitting room's door, walking into an empty lobby.

"Huh, guess we beat her—"

"Okay guys! I just finished the samples, sorry to keep you guys waiting. Come back next week and I'll have the full order of tops done. We can get his bottom done as well!" Ami announced.

You and Toji watch the woman with dumb, gaping eyes, right until she stands before you both. You sheepishly accept the bag in her hand, Toji reaching out to take it from you.

Guess luck is still on your side.

"Okay," you mutter slowly. I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Toji offers you a nod, watching you disappear behind the service desk.

"Wow, it's so good to see her back to her old self," Ami shares, her comment piquing Toji's interest.

"Why? Oh! Because her husband passed right?"

"Yes, she's been so sad for the past four years. So seeing her out and about again brings me such ease."

"Wait, four years? Her husband died three years ago..."

"Yes, that's still right," Ami avows, "But he was diagnosed a year before his death. They tried so many treatments, and hospitals—all that money couldn't get him a reasonable recovery. Then, one day he simply called off all treatment and wanted to spend his final days at home with his wife. So even before his initial death, she was already filled with grief."

"Is that so..." Toji hums, his attention called back as you return to the sales floor.

"Okay, sorry about that. Ready to do Toji?"

"Yeah...thank you again, Ami," he waves at Ami, his quick steps bringing him to join your side.

"Bye Ami! See you next week!" you grin.

With the chime of the door's bell, you and Toji are transported back outside onto the streets of Ginza.

The sun's setting tendrils blaze through the orange sky, hues of purple, rose, and yellow casting themselves across the horizon. The buildings nearby bask beneath the gentle glow of dusk as night teases its way in.

"You wanna get on the train again?" Toji hums as he faces you. He's wearing that dumb look again, gawking at how your afterglow drinks in the day's final rays.

"No, it's nice out. Let's walk back home," you suggest, earning a nod from Toji.

You both begin on your trek home, slipping your hand into his.

He's too busy racking his brain to notice the gesture but he welcomes it all the more. You were vague with the details of your husband's death, but to know how much grief you've endured in recent years pulls at Toji's heartstrings.

He knows he's no replacement—hell, you're the one spoiling him. But he knows he can still give you something of his—his time and effort.

In the long run, his time and effort might not amount to much. But somehow and someway, he's hellbent on making his own mission to cheer you up. And no, you didn't ask for a savior, and he's far from being called on.

But call it compassion from the resident wanderer.

"Hey...Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call you my lady?"

You stop dead in your tracks, forcing Toji to come to his own stop.

"What?"

"How about I call you...my lady? It doesn't need to have any romance behind it and it kinda sums up what you are to me."

"And what are you to me? Not a friend since you get all pissy."

"I don't get pissy, thank you very much," Toji scoffs. He places himself in front of you, wanting to read your reactions as he urgently tries to explain himself.

"I mean, you hired me to be your boy toy. Now, I have no issue saying that, but I can see where that might not sound too pleasing to others. So...you're my lady...my mistress even. How does that sound?"

"I'll take lady, mistress is no better than boy toy."

"Great!" Toji smiles. You playfully roll your eyes, attempting to step away from Toji—but he isn't done with you yet.

No, how could he be?

His hand's swift to grace the dip of your back, pushing you flush against his chest. A mischievous grin curls onto his lips as he scours that bombshell look on your face. It's been a day and you still aren't used to his brash advances—something you know you'll adjust to in time.

But Toji's playing coy, blowing you a teasing kiss. He just has one more thing to say, and he hopes you're ready to agree.

"Can we kiss on it?"

TAGS: @pixelsanji @sleepy3 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @nekoriots @ladyackermann @tonaken @holychocopie @dukina @kensgff @humantrashcan2000 @batmanslittlelover @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @hannas16 @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi

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kenzlovesyou · 1 day

Note

reporter!y/n and wbbstar!caitlin would be fun...

hi i’m so sorry this took so long 😕 i hope you enjoy this!

plot: short fluff you’re an intern reporter about to do a post game interview for the very first time! you’re super nervous about it and caitlin helps you practice before the real thing.

Reporting Live

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

“Okay, Y/n. Just chill.” You said to yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’d just arrived at Gainbridge Fieldhouse to cover your very first professional basketball game and ask questions at the post-game interview. The game you were covering would be the Indiana Fever against the New York Liberty team. You were trying to hype yourself up for the game, but you were extremely nervous. The Fever had been getting serious media attention ever since Caitlin Clark had recently been drafted to the team, so you knew many people would be tuning in.

You stare at yourself and repeat the mantra you’ve been telling yourself since this morning. “You are brave. You are smart. You are super cool and you are totally ready for this!”

“Ready for what?” You jump in shock and turn around to see Caitlin Clark right behind you. The Caitlin Clark. You stare at her for a second not quite processing how Caitlin Clark is currently standing behind right behind you and asking YOU the INTERVIEWER a question. “Sorry um what did you say?”

Caitlin shrugs, turning on the bathroom faucet and rinsing her hands in the sink. “What’s got you so nervous?” She looked you up and down and smiled, “hey, that’s the reporter lanyard. Are you one of the interviewers?” You nodded shyly and giggled.

“Can you tell it’s my first day?” Caitlin laughed at you and shone her head. “Nope, definitely not. You look totally professional.” You couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or serious but you hoped it was the latter.

Caitlin’s words were kind, but you knew they were just that. She didn’t know you, she didn’t know your performance capabilities. There was no real way for her to tell you you’d be any good. You looked at ground and rocked back and forth on your feet slightly. Caitlin noticed this and frowned. Perhaps she could do something to cheer you up? She knew what it was like to be nervous at a new job, as her first WNBA game had just been a week prior.

“Do you wanna maybe, I don’t know, practice interviewing me?” You looked up at her quizzically. “You know,” she continued, “so you aren’t as nervous when it comes to the real thing!” Your cheeks flushed. Not only was she a great player, she also had a great personality.

“We could try that!” Caitlin nodded and signaled for you to start. “Wait. I can’t I don’t have a microphone.” Caitlin rolled her eyes at you and passed her half drank water bottle to you. “Perfect. Okay. Caitlin Clark. What do you think made you want to go pro in basketball? You’ve been amazing ever since you were younger, but what made you want to do this as a career?”

You held the water bottle ‘mic’ in front of Caitlin as she prepared an answer. She took a beat to think about her answer and smiled to herself. “I mean I think I just want kids to have someone to look up to, y’know? I just want them to know that, like, if they have dreams they should pursue them because it might end up paying off.” You nodded your head in response.

“That’s amazing. It’s good to know that besides having a remarkable talent you have such a good heart as well!” Now it was Caitlin’s turn to blush. Her cheeks turned rosy and she lowered her eyes to her shoes.

Caitlin cleared her throat. “Well, y’know, maybe since you asked me a question I can ask you one too.” You looked back at her quizzically.

“Aren’t I the reporter? What question could you possibly have for me?”

Caitlin stood up and walked closer to you, her eyes staring at you seriously. “Can I get your number?” You paused. Was the Caitlin Clark asking you out?

“How do you know I swing that way, Clark?”

“I guess that’s my second question for you. Do you swing my way?” You rolled your eyes at her and made a grabbing gesture with your hand and pointed at her phone in her pocket. She took it out and went to add a new contact and passed it to you. You typed your number in and before you knew it Caitlin had to leave to go warm up. You wished her luck and off she went.

The game was close, but the Fever ended up losing. You could tell by Caitlin’s face she looked disappointed. Her frown seemed to fade away when you walked up to the Fever team to do a post game interview. You went along the line of women, asking each one significant questions correlating to their stats and achievements in the game, and what they thought would come next. You sighed a breath of relief when it was finally over. The interviews went seamlessly, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to still find something to worry about. You walked out to your car and started your car up to drive home, alone with yourself and your thoughts. That was until you got a ping on your phone.

unknown number:

great job on your first day! you didn’t look nervous at all, i guess the practicing helped? hopefully?

maybe getting dinner sometime could calm your nerves for next game :)

#wcbb #wcbb x reader #wnba basketball #wnba #wnba x reader #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #wlw post #wlw #wnba draft #caitlin clark x oc

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brainddeadd · 3 days

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Okay, I’ve another request. Reader who is used to being the rock in everyone’s lives. Her friends, her family. And she doesn’t mind. She’s so used to being super helpful and self sacrificing that it’s normal. Like. She legit doesn’t really notice. And then like. Kind of don Chan but like. Non sexual at first? The first time he tells her to do something or not do something like in a slightly stern voice… like maybe she’s picking up something for someone who’s low key a bitch or smth like that. I really don’t know. And at first she goes like. Who dareth speaketh to me like that but then she melts and she realises she likes being told what to do but like obv tries to cover it up and get fake annoyed? Ik this is super chaotic but I hope u get my drift a bit… and then maybe— acquaintances to lovers and maybe a more… sexual and general setting? Like she, who dominates every aspect of life wants to be an absolute slave to everything he says.

Bang Chan x f!reader

Cafe worker's and university students! AU.

fluff, suggestive, dom-sub dynamics (mostly sfw and slight nsfw)

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get to this one.

You're officially 💋 anon.

Bang Chan is annoying.

Well.. no, that's not entirely true.

He's sweet, and kind, and caring, and always make sure you're eating well, drinking enough water, not working too hard without taking breaks. He often messages you over the weekend or on your days off to see how your studies are going, asking if you're taking breaks.

He brings you little things; chocolate he knows you like or your favourite drink, passing them to you with a nonchalant smile, going about his day.

But you're not used to people wanting to take care of you, much less without asking for something in return. You keep waiting for the ball to drop, for him to ask something of you, expect something, think he's entitled to something. But it never happens.

It's been months, and Chan never asks a thing of you. Simply asks how you are, and moves on.

It's gone from little, friendly moments of caring, to moments full of lingering touches and glances that last too long, both of you wanting to say more, but never taking the leap.

That's how you end up here, sitting with him outside the cafe, watching the sunset after you've both finished for the day.

You're trying to work up the courage to ask him for something. For help.

"Chan," he can see the hesitation on your face, and he wants to tell you that you can ask him anything, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to work through your thoughts. "I need your help."

"What do you need?" His Aussie accent is thicker than normal, but you don't think much of it, too in your head to process it.

"I- My sink, it's- tap-" you sigh, head falling to your hands. "Fuck-"

"Your sink is broken and you need help to fix it?" Of course he knows. Translates the mess in your brain to actual words and verbalises it. Nodding, he smiles and takes you hand in his, telling you to lead the way.

You fall into a pattern then, coming to him when you need help doing something that you can't fix yourself, knowing he'll be there to do it for you.

"She wants you to what?" He's frowning, arms crossed over his chest, and you can't help but let your eyes wander over his muscles.

"Plan her party." You shrug, like it's no big deal, but Chan's not having it.

"No." His voice is stern and you frown at him. He sighs.

"Look, I can't tell you what to do, but she's a bitch and has never and will never do anything nice for you." He moves closer, hands unfolding and resting at his sides. "You could be on fire, and she wouldn't attempt to put it out."

"And who would?!" You know you shouldn't be so annoyed, but the way he ordered you not to, and the way your body reacted to his command are freaking you out. He frowns again, leaning down to your height.

"I would." He presses his forehead to yours. "I would, and you know it."

You nod, hands reaching for his and he immediately takes you into his arms.

"Chan-" He nudges his nose against yours.

"Tell me if you want this to stop, if you don't want this."

"I want this." You whisper. "I want you."

His eyes close, and he leans into press a gentle kiss to your lips, hands grazing your sides. You lean into him, pulling him close and sink into his hold.

Too quickly for your liking, he pulls away, but keep his arms around you.

"Let me take you on a date?" Nodding, you lean into him again, but he pulls back even further, stepping out of reach. "Go get changed. I'll pick you up at 7."

Chan leaves you standing in shock, body buzzing from his touch and mind running with new information, you rush to get ready, hands shaking from excitement.

He spends the whole date with his hand on your back, gently guiding you to the car, helping you in and out, guiding you through the restaurant.

He guides you back to his car, hand on your back, and your body relaxes into his touch, lets him move you as he pleases, and your mind wanders to all the ways he could move you and mold you to his liking.

"Wanna come in?" It's a bold question, but you mean it, in whatever way he wants it.

"You sure?" You know what he's really asking.

"I'm sure."

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #° braindead writes #° braindead answers

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strawberryblue-blog · 1 day

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Hey, hope you’re good. For the Barcelona football player povs, could you maybe do one about the moment he realised he was in love with you, thanks :)

FALLING IN LOVE

—FC BARCELONA.

summary: How would boys react when they realize they are in love?

words: +1.5k

warnings: none. cute, soft.

song recommendation:

Pedri González.

You were probably one of his first loves. Maybe he once loved someone but not like he does you. He really wanted to take things slowly but after not being able to hide his feelings, he would accept that he is completely in love with you.

Although he still doesn't know whether to tell you, he trusts you and knows that you would never hurt him, but he will wait for you to tell him so as not to influence your decision.

But he is very in love and you will see how he begins to have different attitudes towards you, his hands look for yours all the time, his eyes do not stop looking at you, his voice changes when he talks to you.

Ferran Torres.

You just got out of a relationship and didn't think you could fall in love again so quickly. But Ferran will not hesitate to tell you that her feelings have changed and now he sees you differently.

He really loves you, like you are the right person for him, he likes you with all your strengths and weaknesses. The way you laugh, when you seek his warmth, when he embarrasses you at his compliments.

He really admires and is proud to be able to say that he loves you. Because for him you are an honest, loving and kind person. So how not to fall in love with you?

Joao Felix.

Like Ferran, Joao also just broke up from a somewhat complicated relationship and although he thought he would not fall in love again for a long time, you arrived to ruin his plans (in a good way).

It was inevitable for him to think that you were a great woman, with clear values, principles and objectives. A woman who knows she wants him and loves that.

Compared to his previous relationships, this time Joao feels that it is real. That you understand and complement each other, that you don't need to tell the world about yourself but that you love and support each other.

Pablo Gavi.

For Gavi, loving you is something new in his life. Maybe she has had the odd romance but none like yours. He is completely lost in you.

Like a youthful romance and one of those that will last a lifetime. Gavi admires you, supports you and loves you no matter what. Willing to learn from you and everything that loving you entails.

He's a gentleman, he likes to be affectionate with you, tell you cheesy things, take you to cute places. He will show you to the world, because he loves you and he wants everyone to know it.

Fermín Lopez.

You have known each other since you were little and how could you not fall in love with such a man? He is everything to you.

Fermín is the person that everyone wants by their side, affectionate, kind, careful and respectful. And he loves you unconditionally. He has loved you forever, since you used to play in the gardens of his house.

I always accepted his feelings for you and he was always direct because he knows what he wants and that's you. So he's an old romantic and will treat you like the queen you are.

Marc Guiu.

Maybe at first he tries to hide his feelings, we all know that he likes to seem like a tough man but deep down he is not.

He is completely in love with you and he won't be able to hide it for long. Because he loves it when you laugh, when you get close to him, when You are free and fun.

He likes it when you care about him and take care of him, it makes him want to love you more than he should. So he will confess and he won't let you go, he is determined to have you in his life and he knows that you want it too.

Héctor Fort.

You are the first girl he has liked since he can remember and it will be a little shy and embarrassing for Hector. He doesn't know how to tell you, act, or approach you.

He will probably feel a little insecure at first but he will gain confidence when you are the one who approaches him and shows him that you are also interested.

Everything will be like the first time with him, loving each other, understanding each other, taking care of each other, but it will be so magical because Héctor is simply in love with you in every way.

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greeneyessmize · 1 day

Text

So, about Marina.

We need to talk this out. Let's go through her journey step by step.

Upon arrival, Marina thinks she may just be waiting on letters from George so they can run away together but she is losing hope. Then she realizes she is definitely pregnant. Then come the fake letters.

Desperation and survival instinct start to gnaw at her. She is looking out for not only herself. She does try to change that but fails, and accepts that the pregnancy is going forward.

So she decides to make the best of it and find a husband as soon as possible. Preferably a nice, naive, young man with decent enough money.

She has several, and I do mean several suitors, she could choose from. But she settles on Colin Bridgerton and his sweet puppy dog innocence.

She knows Pen is fond of him, but she blocks it out. She doesn't care. She focuses on Colin. The easy low, ripe hanging fruit. Who wouldn't?

Then she realizes Pen actually loves him. This will not stop her. She will stamp out this crush to ash if she has to. She's betting her life on this. Pen means nothing to her here.

She is not in this for love. Love betrayed her and put her in this mess. She wants an easy marriage with no uncomfortable questions. Right and wrong don't matter because she has already had wrong done to her.

Now Colin.

He's a young man. Hopeful, bright eyed, romantic, inexperienced.

He participates in the marriage mart because some of it is fun. There is not too much pressure on him as a 3rd son. He gets to dance and flirt, and chat with Pen. How is that not delightful?

Then along comes Marina. She is a glittery new addition to the ladies he has mostly seen here or there all his life. And everyone is interested in the shiny new toy.

Then she shows interest in him. She flirts with him. When she could seemingly have almost anyone, she lets her eyes brighten for him.

He is easily charmed. Marina, for all he and the other boys of the ton can tell, is an attractive young woman. When she decides to show him singular attention he believes it is love and his easygoing heart wants to return that, being a genuine and open person.

He is easily manipulated into an engagement, thinking that this is natural and right. But his passion never really shows, does it? He pulls back from kissing her when she is scandalously forward with him. He does not seek extra excuses to meet her in the market or at tea or at the garden entrance to the Featherington estate for example.

No. He just insists he is a gentleman.

Then he drops her as soon as her manipulations are revealed. He is angry. He is hurt. But it's like a betrayal of a new friend, not a truly wounded heart. A passionately in love man would try to justify her actions or find a way to get past this. But he just lets it drop and goes traveling to soothe his bruised ego.

Then, there is Penelope.

Sweet, shy Pen.

She is so happy to have a friend in her very own home who is kind to her. It seems like a dream come true at first. She says lovely things about Marina in LW.

Then she realizes Colin is truly interested in Marina. She hates it, but doesn't fight it at first. Penelope has already in many ways given up on Colin ever looking at her the way he looks at Marina. So she bites her tongue. She doesn't discourage the two from becoming closer, but she is not doing much to stop it either.

Then she finds out Marina's secret. She learns about George and cake and that Marina must marry in one way or another. Pen wants to help. She really does.

But she just can't stand that Marina would trick Colin. Her love for Marina is enough to ignore her tricking anyone else. Her love for Colin is so much that she wants him to be happy any way possible.

And she knows figuring out the first child is not his and then duplicity of Marina's affections would not make Colin Bridgerton happy. Unlike most men in the Ton, he knows what love is. His parents were a love match. He would understand eventually that Marina was just placating him whenever he engaged with her emotionally.

So. Having appealed to both Marina, who crushed her heart into bits efficiently, and Colin, who metaphorically ruffled her hair and told her to run along... what options were left to Pen?

Directly tell someone like her mother? She already knew and approved. Violet? Well isn't that terrifying to a shy young woman who still wants Colin's friendship? Eloise? Too mercurial, she might support the match or at least loudmouth that it was Pen who told her. Again potentially ending her friendship with Colin.

Remember, her friendship with Marina was already over, Marina just did not know it yet. You can't brutally crush someone's most treasured, secret desire (realistic or not) and have them continue to love you like nothing happened.

So, Pen uses her last resort when she learns of the pending elopement. The one thing she can do to save Colin from unhappiness and to keep her one small shred of her own happiness: being Colin's friend. She revealed Marina's secrets to the Ton.

Did this maximize damage to Marina? Yes. Did it also damage Colin? Fractionally, both compared to what was dealt to Marina and compared to the damage he would have suffered in a marriage where Marina came to merely tolerate him. (As evidenced by her entire unamusement at his olive oil joke in Season 2.)

Don't forget that Penelope also hurt herself in this. You don't sob in your best friend's arms in celebration. She broke a part of herself to do this to Marina and to Colin. She probably doubted every second of everything and a part of her always will. Her price was not public, it was not outwardly devastating, but she took damage too.

----------

In conclusion, Marina and Penelope were both some level of wrong and Colin was the blind fool in the middle. The flavors of wrong were very different, and so were the levels of damningness.

In their own ways, I can forgive each of them. Admittedly, I forgive Pen more. But that has to do with my life experiences. Former wallflower here, married to a man who is now her best friend. I have never gotten pregnant and been abandoned (though being dead is hardly George's fault here). But I can understand how desperate, how calculating that could have made me, at least in that era. Especially with people like Portia Featherington as your primary caretaker and maternal figure.

I really hope that Pen and Marina both get a chance a chance to gain closure over this peacably before Marina dies. I don't think Pen deserves to feel guilt over Marina's death. Especially as book Marina seemed to have severe depression and well, Marina is likely to have depression too considering her loss of George.

Now, if part 2 of Season 3 could just be here already, that would be absolutely lovely!

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season 3 #eloise bridgerton #polin bridgerton #bridgerton s3 spoilers #marina thompson #marina crane #george crane #colin my wife bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope bridgerton #penelope featherington #lady whistledown

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adxele · 2 days

Text

CONFESSION !

cw: fluff, unedited, f!reader

a/n: my first time writing for my bb itadori and i think i failed,

Itadori Yuji, usually bursting with energy and confidence, felt like a deflated balloon when it came to confessing his feelings for Y/N L/N.

He loved her vibrant smile, her quiet strength, her aura and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle with hidden mischief.

He wanted to tell her, to finally express the swirling emotions that had been brewing in his chest for months, but the words just wouldn't form.

Panic seized him; he felt his face flush at the mere thought of approaching her. Desperate for a solution, he sought advice from his friends.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"Meguumii! Nobaraaaa! Gojo senseeeei!"

The said trio turned their heads at the sound of familiar voice and only Nobara sighed in annoyance.

"Guys! I..." he panted, "..need your help!"

"With what?"

Gojo smiled in amusement, "What's up Itadori?"

Yuji raised his point finger at them as he was saying 'give me a second before i will finally catch my breath.'

Finally, after what felt like an hour, he raised his head and replied. "How should I confess my feelings to Y/N?"

Everything was silent for a second before Nobara decided to break it.

"About damn time Yuji." She deadpanned.

Megumi, looked down to the ground, suggested a simple and sincere approach, "Just tell her how you feel, Yuji. Honesty is always the best policy."

Nobara scoffed, "Nah! Forget that! Be bold, Yuji, make a grand gesture, something that will blow her mind!"

Fushiguro groaned, "Nobara, you're going to scare her off. Keep it simple, just be yourself."

Meanwhile, Gojo, his usual playful smirk replaced by a thoughtful expression, offered a less conventional tip. "Yuji, think about what makes Y/N special. What do you admire most about her? Express that, let her see the unique way you perceive her."

All the advice, while helpful, left Yuji even more confused. He needed to find a way to express his love authentically, without overthinking or overstepping. The pressure was immense, but somewhere beneath the anxiety, a spark of determination ignited within him. He knew he couldn't let fear hold him back, not when it came to Y/N.

"Hmm... All of your advices are so nice! I don't know which one I should go for..."

"You should go for a confession that your own heart desires for. Megumi is right, honesty is always pleasant." Gojo softly said.

Something clicked in Itadori's head as his eyes visibly widened.

"I know! I know what I will do! Thank you! Nobara! Megumi! And Gojo Sensei!" He turned on his heel and ran away.

The trio silently looked at the pink-haired boy until he was out of sight.

"...I hope everything will go fine."

"Nobara!"

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The air hung thick with the scent of cherry blossoms, their delicate petals swirling around Itadori Yuji like pink snowflakes. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of the gentle breeze.

He clutched the small, intricately folded origami crane in his palm, its delicate wings representing the hope he clung to, the hope that Y/N would feel the same way about him. He had practiced the confession countless times, imagining the way her eyes would light up, the way her smile would brighten his entire world.

But now, standing before her, his carefully constructed words seemed to have vanished, replaced by a nervous stammer that threatened to unravel his carefully laid plans.

"What's up Itadori?" She gently asked.

Ah, he loves hearing her voice like this. Gentle and soft. His favorite melody.

"Y/N, I, uh…" he began, his voice cracking like brittle ice. He looked at her, her gentle eyes filled with a warmth that both emboldened and terrified him. "I’ve… I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time," he continued, fiddling with the origami crane, hoping it would act as a talisman against his impending doom.

"I'm listening."

"You’re… you’re amazing, Y/N. You’re strong, kind, and always have this, this incredible light about you that just… makes me feel..." he trailed off, the words catching in his throat as he realized he was rambling, his carefully rehearsed speech reduced to a jumbled mess.

He could see a flicker of amusement in Y/N’s eyes, a warmth that soothed the burning shame creeping up his neck. "You make me feel… happy and you make me feel like its worth to be alive because you're there for me." he finally blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips like a child��s confession. "You make me feel like I can do anything, like.. like I can actually face anything, even cursed spirits." He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the origami crane crinkle against his palm, a silent witness to his raw, unfiltered feelings. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a vulnerability he had never dared to show before. "I like you, Y/N. A lot. I.. love you."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuji #itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen itadori #jjk smaus #jjk itadori #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #jjk fluff

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hannahssimblr · 3 days

Text

In the hallway after school on Tuesday, as I head to my locker to retrieve my gear bag, I spot Miss O’Reilly. She is locking up the art room, and gives me a big smile as I approach her. She’s always doing that, smiling at me, I mean, and it throws me off. It's usually not the expression teachers have when they see me coming.

I smile awkwardly in return and she turns her body towards me, takes a step, prompting me to halt beside her instead of barrelling past her like I would have, not enthused about facing the wrath of Doherty if I hit the rugby pitch even one minute late.

“Jude! I've been meaning to congratulate you.”

“Um, for what?”

She laughs as though I’m being dense deliberately, “I spoke to Eileen, the guidance counsellor last Friday and she told me about your offers.”

“Oh, for college.”

“Yes! How wonderful. I’m just so pleased for you that everything worked out the way that you hoped it would, after all of the hard work you put in this last year it’s just fantastic to hear it. And tell me, did you get accepted to every college you applied for?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” she takes a big pause, taking it in, “wow. You must be delighted. How does it feel?”

“I dunno, miss.”

“Hard to get your head around, I’m sure. Your parents must be proud too.”

“Mm.”

She’s determined to ignore our mismatched attitudes towards this news, taking a big, jubilant breath before launching into more affirmations, “well, what a confirmation of your talent and skill. I had a really good feeling about your work when you came to my class last year, and I’m just so pleased that you got the results you wanted. Have you decided which college to choose yet?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, “yeah I’m choosing NCAD.”

“Oh!” I can tell she’s trying to maintain her upbeat attitude, but eyebrows slowly draw together in confusion, “I hadn’t realised you changed your plan. When we last spoke about it in March you told me you were looking forward to attending universities abroad.”

I shrug, “Yeah, I, um, I changed my mind in the end. I’m going to stay in Dublin.”

“Hm, okay, I just… Jude, do you mind if I ask you why?”

“Yeah, you can ask,” I say, and am instantly horrified by the tremor in my voice. I fight it back with a hard swallow, “It’s just, like… um,” Oh God. What is happening to me? I’m conscious of the crowds of students milling through the hallway right behind me, and of the fact that I categorically cannot do this here. “Sorry…”

“Oh, come in,” she says in a low voice, jangling the keys in the art room door with an urgency that feels entirely necessary, and when she lets me into the room ahead of her I stand dumbly in the middle of it as she fumbles with the blind over the glass doors, tingling jolts of anxiety running down my arms and through the tips of my fingers.

“What is it, sweetheart?” She says, and simply that, the word she uses and the way she uses it makes me want to crumple onto the linoleum floor in front of her.

“You’re alright, you’re just…” she purses her lips, searching for the word, “overwhelmed, I’d say. College and all of that kind of thing, it can get on top of you at this time of year. I know it’s a lot to think about.”

I manage a grunt of vague agreement.

Miss O’Reilly drags a folding chair from the side of the room, “C’mere, sit down there and we’ll have a quick chat about it.”

“Um, Mr. Doherty…” I say, and she understands, “Don’t mind him. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She settles into a seat across from me, and gives me an encouraging smile. As I search for the words I want to say I’m cognizant of how comforting this woman is, how unfazed she is by me and whatever it is that is happening to me in this room. She has a daughter, I know that, a daughter who goes to our school and for a moment I’m jealous of her, that fourteen year old girl who gets to have a mother like this one, that is soft and comforting in all the places where mine is sharp and disinterested in me and every feeling I have ever experienced.

I’m not convinced that I even know how to talk about things like this, afraid that I will try to and come across like the weirdest, most unhinged person on the planet. My thoughts and feelings will be so nonsensical that they will make everyone around me cringe with discomfort. “I’m trying to do the right things,” I attempt, “but somehow the right things feel very wrong to me.”

“When you say ‘the right things’, Jude, do you mean you want to choose the right college?”

I nod.

“And why does NCAD seem like the right choice?”

“Because of my girlfriend.”

“Michelle?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you knew that to be honest.” I never thought that teachers noticed or cared about things that weren’t arbitrary uniform rules and homework assignments, but evidently I was wrong.

She smiles kindly, “So Michelle is going to NCAD?”

“Yeah if she gets the points in her leaving. She applied for all the same colleges as me but got none and now I feel sort of... like I have to stay for her.”

“Is that the right decision for you?”

“I dunno, miss.”

She hums contemplatively, “I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this kind of thing, but it’s not always the best choice to base big life choices on your girlfriend when you’re only eighteen years old. Especially one as important as your university.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s never an easy choice to make. I really empathise with you here, because when you’re in love with a person, you-”

“I don’t even know if I love her.”

There’s a pause, she looks surprised, and so am I. I'm stunned that I told her that, this thought that I've never dared to utter before.

And then everything comes spilling out of me. “Look, it’s just that I feel very trapped,” I say, “Sometimes I think there’s something abnormal about my brain, because I make decisions that even I don’t understand, like with Michelle... when I think about us being together and our relationship I can hardly remember anything good that’s happened between us for a long time, the last fun thing we did or the last time I felt happy. I can’t even remember what I was thinking when we got together. I feel like I’m on autopilot, or like things are just happening to me without me having a hand in it.

“Somehow I’ve just, like, ended up here and I’m making plans with her and promising her things that I haven’t even decided if I want yet. I thought that I wanted to move away, but maybe I don’t anymore. Maybe it’s wrong of me to do that, because what if I go away and then I realise that what I actually wanted was to be with Michelle?”

I breathe in, knowing that I have probably been talking too much, but now I am unwilling to stop, “My parents, they’re fighting a lot at home. Something happened a few months ago and it's just been a battlefield ever since. I know that if I go away I’ll leave my sister alone to deal with all of it. She’s only nine, and the constant tension upsets her so much, she goes into a spin about it and starts fantasising about all of these awful scenarios, and see, my parents don’t know how to deal with her, they don’t really like it when kids act like kids. Or at least they’re not that interested in them– in her. I keep imagining this future where I’m gone, I’ve left home and I’m hundreds of miles away and she’s all on her own with them, and there’s nobody to really look after her because I can’t get home so easily, and when I think like that, even the thought of going away, even wanting it a little bit makes me feel like the most selfish boy on earth…”

Miss O’Reilly produces a tissue and holds it out to me. I stare at it for several seconds before I realise she is offering it because I have started to cry. My face is somehow wet with tears. “Oh,” I say, hoarsely and take it.

“Jude, you’re still a teenager.” She says gently, “You can’t possibly be responsible for the emotions of every other person around you. It’s too much.”

“Yeah.”

“When you’re young you have to make selfish decisions, ones meant for yourself and yourself only. Nobody else is going to make them for you. You have to really ask yourself what the right choice is for you, whether you’ll be able to be truly happy in your current circumstance where nothing may change or will you be better off on your own, doing something you love and experiencing real freedom in spite of how others may feel about it.”

I wipe my eyes and nod, staring down at my lap, still in a state of shame and disbelief that I have allowed myself to sob like this in front of my teacher, though if she is bothered she doesn’t show it.

“When you imagine your ideal life,” she urges, “where none of these things are a factor, not the things you promised to Michelle, not what's going on at home, what does it look like?”

“God,” I breathe, almost chuckling because the answer is so easy, “I’m gone. I’m not here. I’m just miles away and I’m making art and hanging out and doing what I like.” It sounds so simple when I say it out loud, yet for the longest time now I’ve felt like a criminal for wanting these things.

“And where do you see yourself?”

“Berlin,” I say, surprising myself. It’s not like I’ve put real time into thinking about this, visualised myself walking those streets, in fact I don’t even know what Berlin looks like, but it feels right to say it, as though there is some cosmic reason for me to go there. Perhaps only because it’s the furthest from home.

Miss O’Reilly nods, “NCAD is a fine college, Jude, but your talent is wasted in a place where you don’t want to be. You could do anything you want. You have incredible potential and I’d be very sad to see it wasted. Life passes you by very quickly, you know, and these kinds of opportunities don’t present themselves as often as you think. It may seem obvious, but you only have one life to live.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t make a decision for you, but all I want you to do is really think about this. Put a good amount of thought into what you really want when you remove everyone else from the equation, then, once you know, you can decide what's worth sacrificing. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Good, then that's your homework,” She smiles and reaches to squeeze my hand, which I am embarrassed about because my skin is clammy, but just like everything else about this moment that is humiliating to me, it doesn't appear to faze her.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods. “I hope you’re not in a hurry to get to your rugby practice.”

“No,” I sniff, and let out a thick laugh, “No miss, I think I’ll skip it today.”

“Good,” she says, “That’s a good start, see? Here you are, doing exactly as you wish.”

She smiles at me, once again, that bright, warm smile, and I give her one in return because maybe it's just me, my weird brain and the things it invents, but the feeling of hope that rises in me in that moment feels very real.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #that's the last of April!!#i'm so exicted to move on from this #and say goodbye to this cursed school

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faun-the-fawn77 · 11 hours

Text

"ֆɦɛ ӄɛɛքֆ ʍɛ ʊք"

Genre: SMUTTY SMUT

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Whipped!Adam, OOC Adam, cunnilingus, nipple play, man-handling, creampie, a bit of orgasm denial, uhhh thats it? Idk what else to add...

Desc: When Adam was ordered to get intel on that stupid redemption hotel, he cursed Heaven. He hates Hell. He hates sinners. But... what happens when a tempting offer is introduced to him? And what if he wants more?

Note: My first time writing smut... oh boy... Let's hope this turns out good? Also Adam gets kinda...ooc? I feel like he's only kind and lovie towards his partner so... I tried with this one;(

She’s got me nervous

Talkin’ a hundred miles an hour

She’s more than worth it

I swear she smells just like a flower

I’d fall to pieces if I went anywhere without her

I love when she says, “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?”

A cloaked figure made their way through the streets of Pride. No one even glanced at the figure that was kicking rocks around and grumbling to themselves. Slipping into an alley, the figure leaned up against a brick wall of some building they didn’t catch the name of. Pulling their hood down to catch a breath of… air.

Adam was done. He wanted to go back to Heaven and tell Sera to fuck off and do this herself if she wanted intel. He pulled out his golden cased phone and sent a message to Lute, his friend that helped keep him in check and lead the exorcist army.

Heels clicked down the alley Adam was in. He quickly pulled his hood up but he wasn’t quick enough to hide his face from the demon that caught sight of him.

“Well, I didn't know that angels were allowed down here. What’s up with you, handsome?” The voice was silky. Smooth like chocolate. Adam turned towards the voice and he choked on his own saliva. The demoness standing before him was beautiful. Her eyes lidded and a smirk played on her black stained lips. Her makeup was more on the goth side with black lipstick and dark colours for her eyes. Her outfit was what made Adam dart his golden eyes back up to her face. She wore a black mini skirt with fishnet tights, black heeled combat boots and a maroon crop top that showed more cleavage than what Adam was used to in Heaven.

“Like what you see, honey?” Adam was nervous. He was never the type to be nervous but something about this demoness made his heart beat irregularly and his stomach fill with thousands of butterflies.

“I- uh- ye- yes… Wait n-” The unnamed demoness chuckled at his stuttering and strutted closer to him. She was a couple heads shorter than him so she had to look up to see his face.

“The names Y/N. It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Adam.” Adam had no thoughts. No quip. No nothing to tell her. The smell of flowers, he didn’t know which ones, invaded his nose when she was closer.

“You can’t be seen alone down here. Why don’t you come with me?” Y/N tilted her head as she smiled at him. Adam gulped and shakily nodded his head. Where was his brash and confident self? Why did he so easily fall for this temptress?

After getting to know her for a few days, Adam always showed up at her apartment to crash or hangout. He was still nervous around her and when she flirted with him, he lost all confidence to flirt back.

Today was different. Today, Adam wanted to flirt with her. He’s been abstinent for a while and he assumed that if he just got intimate with her, then he would go back to normal and he could just ignore her.

“Hello, handsome. How was scouting out the hotel today?” Y/N had her back towards him as she focused on making coffee. Adam stood without answering her. He silently walked towards her and when she was about to turn around to ask what was wrong, Adam trapped her between him and the counter.

“Let’s not talk about that. You look…so fucking hot today,” Adam growled out. Y/N had a smirk on her lips. She turned away from her coffee and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers finding their way into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Are you gonna do something about it?” Adam felt his confidence shake a bit before he steeled himself.

“Right here?”

“What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” She quipped. Adam smirked. He li- no- loved her. He loved what she did to him.

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

Adam dove in and kissed her roughly. He heard her moan into the kiss and felt her fingers grip tightly on his hair. She was so, so delicious. He swiped his tongue across her plump bottom lip, asking for entrance. She granted him access and he pulled her hips closer to his as his tongue explored.

This was so much better than any of those groupies he had up in Heaven. Actually, he was pretty sure this was Heaven. She tasted divine.

He groaned into her mouth and gripped her hips tightly, humping his clothed dick into her pussy. The moan she let out almost made him cream his pants. He broke away from her mouth and trailed kisses down her neck. Her grip on his hair loosened as she began to run her lithe fingers through his hair.

“Adam…” Her breath was airy. Adam sucked on a spot that made her moan out. He attacked the spot for a few before he was satisfied that it would leave a mark. The first of many this night.

Y/N tugged his head up and made him look her in the eyes, “Take your robe off.” Adam nodded and swiftly pulled his iconic robe off over his head, mussing up his already floppy hair.

“Gorgeous…” Y/N breathed out. He watched as she reached out and ran her soft hands along his shoulders and down his pecks, stomach and to his pants. He knew he’s put on some weight since Eve. He was a bit self conscious but in this moment, Y/N made him feel anything but.

“Kiss me.” And Adam did just that. He grabbed her hips, running his calloused hands up her waist and under her cropped shirt to cup her breasts. She had no bra on and he could feel the metal that pierced her nipples. He moaned loudly. He was the only one in Heaven with body modifications. Having a partner who also did? He was on cloud 9.

He brushed his thumbs over her pert nipples. She moaned loudly into the kiss and gripped his shoulders. He played with her tits for a few more seconds before pulling away and ripping her shirt off her. The pieces fell to the floor in piles of ripped fabrics. Adam pulled her in and trailed kisses from her lips, jaw, and down to her collar bone. He lowered to her breasts and finally started to lick and suck on her nipples, the piercings cold in his mouth.

“Adam, please!” Y/N moaned loudly. She gripped onto the hair on the back of his head and pushed him closer to her breasts. Adam groaned and flicked the bud with his tongue and the other one he used his fingers to flick and pull.

Adam pulled away and trailed more kisses down her stomach and stopped at the top of her shorts. He unbuttoned them and yanked them down. She went commando today.

“My God, are you this wet only for me?” Adam brought a hand to her dripping pussy and ran a finger through her slit. She moaned out incoherent words, her grip tightening in his hair. He chuckled and leaned his face closer to her pussy, his breath causing her to shudder.

Adam stuck his tongue out, snapped his fingers, and his original gold tongue piercing was replaced with a vibrating one. He brought his mouth up to her pussy, licking a stripe from her entrance to her clit.

Y/N’s knees buckled. Adam wrapped his arms under her and gripped her to lift her onto her counter. He spread her knees and dive right back in.

“Oh Satan, Adam, please, more!” Adam hummed and the vibrations from his voice paired with the ones coming from the tongue piercing caused her to moan loud and voice out, “AH~ I’m cumming! Adam ple-”

Adam pulled away and licked his lips. His stubble and cheeks covered in her essence. He pulled his boxers down to reveal his erection. He could see Y/N drooling at the sight.

“Like what you see, gorgeous?” He threw her earlier words abc at her. She nodded and went to drop to her knees but Adam kept her on the counter.

“Later. Right now, I need my dick inside you.”

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

She Keeps me up(I keep you up)

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

The next morning, Adam stirred awake. He rubbed at his eyes and opened them slightly. He looked around and sat upright when he noticed that he wasn’t in his room. The walls here were painted a blood red with some devilish decorations around.

Adam jumped when he turned and saw a figure under the blankets next to him. He sucked in a breath and carefully lifted the blankets off the figure's head to see who it was. He let out a breath when he saw it was just Y/N.

Wait.

Adam did a double take and his eyes widened. Oh no. No, no, no! This was NOT supposed to happen! He was sent here to see what Lucifer’s spawn was up to with that dumb hotel of hers! NOT to sleep with the scum of the Earth!

Adam tumbled out of bed, snapped his fingers to put his robe on, and raced out of the demoness’ apartment. He stumbled out onto the street and looked both ways to see if anyone saw him before he dipped into a nearby alley to get his cloak on and cover his face with the hood.

“Oh my God, Lute and Sera are going to fucking kill me! He tried to call Lute but he cursed when he noticed his phone was dead. He about chucked it at the wall when a voice sounded from the entrance of the alley.

“Hey! Are you okay..? Ugh what am I doing…” The last part was muttered that Adam barely caught it. He looked towards the accented voice to see a tall spider-like demon dressed in the sluttiest outfit Adam has ever seen.

The spider demon stepped closer. The demon actually looked concerned which caught Adam off guard.

“Are ya alright there, toots? I don’t mean to intrude but ya look like you’re having a bad day. Was the one night stand that terrible?” Adam blinked.

“W-what? One night stand..?” The demon nodded.

“Well ya raced outta that complex like your tail was on fire!” Adam almost dropped his phone then. This…thing, saw him come from Y/N’s apartment and he was concerned?

“What's it to you? Maybe the pussy just wasn’t good enough!” The spider demon looked at him and then burst out laughing.

“No way it wasn’t! The only decent female in that joint is one of my best friends!” Adam almost passed out at that information.

“Y/N, despite me being attracted to others, has the best pussy in town! Can definitely keep ya up all night!”

Adam looked at the demon again and noticed something else. This was the one that Lucifer’s crotch demon presented at the hearing. The one that followed every point on his stupid list to get into Heaven.

“I- uh… She was supposed to show me to some hotel but-”

“Ya mean the Hazbin Hotel? Of course she cared more about getting good dick than showing a sinner where to get redeemed or some bullshit. I’ll show ya!” The spider gestured for him to follow. Adam reluctantly did. He tucked his phone away and followed after the tall spider demon.

“The names Angel Dust, toots. What’s yours?”

“Edenis”

I need her so bad

Sometimes I thank that I can taste it

This evil romance

So good I never wanna waste it(Yeah)

I can’t trust my friends

‘Cause she’s what everybody chases

And I know where she’s been

‘Cause it’s on everybody’s faces

Come on

Adam made sure to keep his demonic disguise on at the hotel. He, unfortunately, fit right in as a “redeemable” monster with a brash attitude and vulgar tongue. He was introduced to everyone by that stupid princess. The only one he actually tolerated was Husk.

The day was going by slowly. Charlie had been planning a new exercise out with her girlfriend, Vaggie. Adam made sure to stay far away from her in case she somehow recognised him. Angel Dust was out with his friend, Cherri Bomb, and Sir Pentious was helping Nifty with the cleaning.

Adam wandered over to the bar and sat down. Husk pulled out a dusty bottle of red wine. The first time Adam asked for a drink, Husk poured him a shot of whiskey. Adam took a sip before he gagged and slided the glass back to the cat demon and rudely asked for some “goddamn red wine!” Husk shot his eyebrows up before shrugging and digging around for the one bottle of wine they had. Husk made sure to keep in stock of it ever since.

“What’s wrong with you?” Husk asked nonchalantly. Adam sighed and leaned on the counter.

“What if… you fell for someone that you weren’t supposed to?” Husk looked at Adam. Adam was looking down in his glass of wine with this sad look in his red and gold eyes.

“How bad do you want her?”

Adam looked up at the cat, “I need her so bad. Sometimes I… I think I can still taste it. Her lips.”

Husk hummed. He set down the glass he was cleaning and pulled out a deck of cards. He started laying out a game for him and Adam to play while they talked.

“Then why don’t you tell her instead of thinking about the ‘what if’s’? If you truly love someone that much then I’d tell them. Don’t make it a big thing for them. Make it simple. No one, not even that motherfucker up in the clouds, could stop someone from falling in love.” Adam was silent. He pondered over Husks’ words.

“But what if it was love between an Angel and a Sinner?” Husk immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Adam. Adam could feel the cat’s stare go right through him.

“Oh my- you gotta be fucking kidding me. Adam? The fir-” Adam slapped a gloved hand over the cat’s mouth and glared at him.

“Yes, you fucking scum! Now shut it before I rip your fucking tail and wings off you. You go blabbing to anyone and I’ll make sure we kill everyone in this stupid fucking shithole.” Husk glared and ripped Adam’s hand from his snout.

“I won’t fucking say anything you prick! Satan almighty…” Husk grabbed a bottle of whisky and downed it.

Adam knew he was fucked now. How many others here are gonna see through his disguise? He couldn’t abandon this mission though.

“Who is it?” Adam perked up at Husk’s deep voice.

“Who’s who?” Husk rolled his eyes.

“The demon you were talking about?” Adam paused. He glanced around to see if Angel Dust was anywhere near before he leaned a bit close.

“Y/N… Angel’s friend.” Husk choked.

“Her? Damnit Adam! She’s been with, like, every demon in Pride! Doesn’t help that she’s an Overlord as well! Oh my Satan, you are so fucked.”

Adam was stunned. He didn’t know how Hell worked but he was here long enough to know that Overlords were some of the most powerful in the Pride Ring. How come Y/N never mentioned that part of her? They used to talk for hours on end about their lives, both living and dead.

“Does that mean…she can’t be redeemed?”Adam was almost scared of the answer to that.

Husk looked at him. He sighed and set down his cards, “Look, Adam. If she wanted to be redeemed then she would be here. She has thousands of souls under her belt. She’s even more powerful than that smiling deer prick here,” Adam deflated at that but Husk wasn’t done, “But, if anyone can convince her to do good then I’m sure it’s you. From what I heard from Angel and you, she seems to be doing good things without realising it.”

Adam sat up and downed his drink before hopping off the stool.

“I’ll be back! Tell Charlie some lie or whatever. I don’t fucking care.”

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

“Fuck, Adam. That was fucking amazing! No wonder you call yourself ‘Dick Master’.” Adam was lying beside her in her bed. He turned towards her and lifted a hand to brush away the hair from her eyes. She turned to look at him and he could see the confusion swirling in her clouded eyes.

“I…” Adam swallowed. This was it.

“I love you, Y/N. Not because you’re a good lay but because you actually cared about how I felt when I would talk about my problems in Heaven. When we would have those talks before we got…intimate, it would be the best day of my life. Even Lute, that fucking bitch, noticed something from me.” Adam continued to pour his heart out to the one he loved.

“I don’t want this to be a fuck and go. I want this as something more.” Adam was nervous again. He hoped he didn’t just ruin whatever this was with her.

“Adam…” Adam shut his eyes. He didn’t want to be rejected. Not for a third time in his long life.

“That was very sweet but… How am I to be with you if I cannot go to Heaven?” Adam sat up. He pulled her up by the shoulders and hugged her.

“I don’t wanna admit this but, that stupid hotel works. Charlie and everyone will help you. I’ll even come down and help or talk to Sera about sinners being redeemed! I just want you.” Adam hugged her tightly. He couldn’t believe she accepted him

“I’ll go. Just for you.”

“Thank you…”

I never wanna have to slow down

Gotta be a better way to come down

I’ve gotta stay awake somehow

I never wanna have to slow down

Gotta be a better way to come down

I’ve gotta stay awake somehow

Y/N couldn’t keep quiet. Adam pounded into her pussy ruthlessly. Her moans were so loud that Adam had to use his powers to soundproof the room. He panted above her, gripping her wrists together above her head. He leaned down and trailed kisses down her neck.

“Adam! I-I’m close, please!” Adam growled. He ran a hand down her waist and towards her throbbing clit. His calloused fingers found the bud and started rubbing in circles. His lover’s voice got louder at the contact.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me! Show me how much you love this dick!” Y/N screamed as she gushed all around his dick. He moaned and drilled his hips into her a few more times before he released into her. He looked up at her flushed face and smiled.

It’s been years since their first run-in with each other. Since then she’s been redeemed and now lives with him in Heaven. Her skin went from demonic to an angelic colour. Her horns were replaced with tiny wings and her tail was now rounded instead of pointed. She had giant wings on her back that glittered in the sun of Heaven.

“I love you, Y/N” Adam lowered himself next to her and wrapped an arm around her stomach. Her stomach was bulged slightly, clear signs of pregnancy.

Y/N smiled at her lover and snuggled up to him. Adam recognised the flower now. Lily of the Valley.

“You really keep me up, ya know that?” Adam murmured to her. Y/N giggled.

“Of course I know that. You just can’t get enough of me~” Adam laughed. He knew he was whipped. Lute had scolded him for it when he would talk about his and Y/N’s love life.

Adam never wanted to come down from this high that Y/N gave him. He wanted to stay like this forever if it meant having Y/N by his side for that long.

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

Funky little monkey, she’s a twisted trickster

Everybody wants to be the sister’s mister

Coca-Cola roller-coaster

Love her even though I’m not supposed to

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

She keeps me up(I keep you up)

All night(All night)

Oh boy idk if I like this one... Hopefully my Lucifer one is better! Sorry for not posting this yesterday but yesterday was hectic for me:(

I'm trying not to give descriptions to reader but I like the idea of reader having black lipstick on when its sinner reader. Idk im just weird:p

Hope you all enjoy!!🖤

#hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #writing #writblr #creative writing #writers on tumblr #adam x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut

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notmyy4 · 2 days

Note

I noticed Francis doesn’t look too happy in your drawings for Nacha. There’s gotta be a reason for that. Do you think he genuinely loves her but just couldn’t give her what she wanted?

P.s. you make Francis look hotter than his in game design 🖤

Thank you for enjoying my Francis, I hope I make him handsome while not being too off the original game style 😭❤️🌹

I have a few drawings that are WIPs that show my dynamic for Nacha and Francis, I want to share them soon!

I’m shy to share my thoughts of the characters since I know I will probably be wrong, but I hope to make it clear ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ But you are correct! There are multiple ways I interpret them, but they are mainly the same things with little changes. Here is one way I can imagine them:

I like to believe when Nacha and Francis first met, Nacha was unhappily engaged with another man. Francis is a milkman, and was doing his work so he visits her often. Nacha is a chef so it was easy to make excuses to constantly order from him without seeing suspicious. She likes the way Francis looks, so she wants to seek comfort from him and comes onto him first.

At first he doesn’t feel the same, as he just wanted to do his job. He isn’t ever enthusiastic, his personality isnt the best, so all he has is his looks. But with Francis being charming with his looks, he realizes Nacha is charming with her personality. He comes around to like her personality even though it’s hard for him to show it, and after a while he end up having affairs with her.

Though, through this time Nacha realizes Francis isn’t what she thought he was. She believed she could leave her current fiance to be happier with him, but she quickly loses interest in him because she just doesn’t understand him. To put it simply, to her Francis is boring. She breaks things off with him before discovering she is pregnant, not initially wanting to tell him but Anatasha looks so much like him, of course he finds out. Obviously, her husband can tell too, so he leaves the picture.

Francis really wants to connect with both his daughter and old lover but he’s kind of a bum who isn’t up to her standards. 🥲

I love Nacha being portrayed as really sweet and kind, but for me—I like to imagine her being like that usually only for a front. I love flawed women, so I do think she’s kind, but i like to imagine her being passive aggressive and a little mean, as well as high maintenance when it comes to her relationships. 🥺

I ultimately think Nacha is a good mom who loves her daughter. But she is protective, and because of that when Anatascha asks about the Milkman on the third floor who likes to give her free things from the store, she tells her to ignore him.

Long story to short, I draw Nacha happy and affectionate as she always is and Francis being more distant and ‘unhappy’, as that’s just how he always looks. And it’s because of that behavior that she leaves him, but he isn’t really like that. He does care for her now, even if he didn’t at first.

Sorry if it’s hard to understand, it’s hard for me to put things into words. If you can’t understand, maybe I’ll draw something to put it in better perspective!! Kiss kiss and roses 🌹🌹🌹🌹

#francis mosses #nacha mikaelys

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idyllcy · 2 days

Text

in sickness, in health - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #10)

"You know, Damian, calling me out into the middle of Gotham U is sketchy asf." You hold your phone to your ear, raising a brow at the series of arrows on the ground. "Is this your way of getting Tim to propose to me?"

"I have no idea what nonsense you're sprouting."

"Watch." You turn around, Tim falling right into your arms, and you suddenly get the vibe that you're in some sort of Kdrama. "Caught ya."

Tim stares up at you, eyes wide as he laughs. "You caught me, pretty bird."

"See? Now, what is the nonsense you were telling me about? If you guys are planning a wedding in the middle of our university, I highly advise you to do it in the Wayne backyard or summer home instead."

You blink as Damian hangs up.

"We're flying out. They just wanted us to host a small wedding where they get to watch us exchange vows. Remember the letters you used to write to your future husband? Your mom mailed them all to me." Tim hums, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

"WHAT THE FUCK???" Your eye twitches, horror written all over your face as you wince. "How did she even find them??"

"Apparently she dug them out when you told her that you got married."

"Mm." You grimace. "Do I have to read them in front of your family?"

"No. Just the two of us. I asked them for private vows. It's the least they can do for us"

"And it's a gala?"

"The party after is at the gala. No worries, Bruce didn't tell anyone why there's a fourth gala this year."

"Are you sure?" You raise a brow.

"I promise. We can stay in my old room the entire time if you want it that bad."

"Can we play Hades?"

"You and your fifty seven hours on a game because you want to fuck the main character." Tim rolls his eyes.

"Okay?? And?? Listen, my husband is hot, but fictional characters are still fine as fuck." You huff. "Besides, my vows are to you, no? I hope you them since I didn't get to tell you at the courthouse."

"Hey, how about reading them to me after the wedding so I can pick it apart?"

"What is this? Literary analysis?"

"Yes." Tim laughs. "To show my love for you."

"Then shall I frame your vows?"

"No need. You can keep the original draft on a USB."

"Yeah?"

Tim laughs. "Yes. That way, each time you wonder if I still love you, you have proof that the choice I made was to love you until I return to the dust of the earth."

"That's absolutely insane to say to me."

"Oh, hey. There's the helicopter." Tim looks up, leading you back as it lands in the quad.

"Is this... legal?"

"Nothing a little money can't handle."

"Great day to be marrying rich, I guess?" You raise a brow. "Where are we even having vows?"

"In private." He holds out his hand for you, helping you onto the helicopter.

"Did you plan this?"

"Just the vows part." Tim hands you the headphones as you pop them on. "We'll land at home."

"And then?"

"And then, we'll read our vows as we help each other get dressed for the gala."

"My wedding dress is nowhere near appropriate for the gala after all that sand got on it."

"I have another white one that we ordered. It's more casual." Tim grins, taking your hands again. "Everything I have is for you."

"You sound so sappy it hurts."

"Love you too." Tim snickers.

You find it strange. Tim finds it strange. You wonder just what kind of a life you led in your past life that had led you to end up with him. He is flawed, but you find that it's fine or whatnot. The world could stop spinning for him, and you would still stay by his side — until the earring rusts and your ring finger is worn down by the on and off before and after bed, he would be engrained into a part of your soul, hums gentle against your skin as the rain splatters against the window. There would be a fixing, until the two of you are withered and frail with age, until you can no longer fix each other and return to dust as one.

"Ehem." You make the dramatics of dropping the rest of the paper as Tim helps you lace your back, laughing. "To my dearest, sweetest, loveliest, future husband. At the time I am first starting this page, I am twelve and have a thrashing obsession with Robin. As with all of my hyperfixations, I expect this to last no longer than two months. Even if it continues, I hope this is whatever the hell my classmates won't shut up about... the invisible string theory? I wonder if that means I'm gonna marry Robin's girlfriend or something. Oh, maybe even another hardcore fan of his—"

Tim holds back a laugh, back shaking as he finishes with the bow. "My girlfriend?"

"You weren't bi at that point in time. At least not to us." You snort, continuing. "Regardless of whoever I end up with, I'm fine if I never end up married too. I keep hearing all of this nonsense about how women are having less kids and shit and I think it's a good time to never have to deal with it. Hopefully you don't want kids either. Or, maybe you're down bad like those men in all of that fanfiction I've been reading. Regardless, if I end up marrying a man who can't respect my boundaries, I want a divorce. Fuck this, man."

You move down the paper, and Tim runs his hand through your hair.

"You're doing my hair this time?" You raise a brow. "What's next, my makeup?"

"I will be attempting to do your makeup today." Tim purses his lips. "If you'll let me?"

"Sure." You hum, moving your head to make sure he gets all of your hair. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you need to know if you want to be my one and only all my life."

Tim holds back a laugh, but you feel him shaking behind you anyway.

"I have a Robin addiction. I know he technically assaulted me or whatever on the rooftop the other day, but oh my god he's got such a feminine-shaped face that I think I am never going to reach that level of pretty. Even if I do, somehow, I don't think I could ever have a figure that nice. Do I look better now? Maybe I do. I don't know. Hopefully I'm the prettiest girl in the world to you even when I'm old and wrinkly. I got scolded by mom because of... nearly losing my camera but.. boo. I hope you're Robin. I really hope I end up marrying that guy because my friends may not be able to marry Jungkook but I at least have a chance of marrying him. Are you Robin? The one that has pants? It sounds so romantic... please take me out on midnight swings." You pause, blinking at your next words.

"I bet it's something about how you'd let me fuck you six ways from sunday." Tim reaches for a brush.

"Wow, you're like, psychic." You snort. "I also hope whenever I look at you like I'd let you hit fourteen different ways, you catch the cue. Or, maybe the idea of sex grosses me out now. I don't know. I wouldn't know. I can only keep hoping and praying that you're Robin. Oh, also, please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have— I CAN'T."

"No, keep going." Tim stops, hair still in his hand as you shake from laughter. "KEEP GOING."

"Please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have abs. Oh, also, is it possible to cut my finger on your jawline? Maybe you'll let me bite into your collarbone until I draw blood. Okay, that was oddly kinky and weird. I am sorry if future me has to read this to you. I might be insane or something. I wouldn't know." You close your eyes for the next part. "Regardless, I want a big fancy wedding that costs a billion dollars where you'll fly all of my friends in and we'll party until sunrise. That was sarcasm, by the way. I want a small wedding where it's just family and friends. Maybe a second one to host more people if you're a socialite or something. I hope my future in laws love me more than they love you. Mom's been teaching me how to cook lately, and I might have a talent for it. I hope you enjoy every single Chinese dish on the planet, because I can not live with white people food for extended periods of time. Kisses! Xoxo."

"Yeah, I think that last part is apparent." Tim finishes with your hair, reaching for accessories. "The ironic part is that you DID manage to marry that Robin."

"Yeah, I bet she'd be having a crazy ass moment." You hum. "Ehem, dear future husband. my parents are divorced now. I'm in high school at this point in time. Robin seems rather chummy with me now, but I still don't think he sees me as a potential romantic partner. I think he only recognizes me if I have my all black clothes on. Regardless, I think he's a funny guy. Also, I caught him kissing Spoiler a couple days ago so I don't think I have a chance."

"Makes me nostalgic, almost." Tim hums, looking through your jewelry. "What colors for accent?"

"Red." You hum. "For good luck for the bride and groom."

Tim laughs.

"You know, maybe you're one of the other Robins. Maybe you're the second one.. that like. died. or something. I heard there's a new vigilante running around. Red Hood? I think he's more of a crime lord, but his build... I MEAN. I MEAN IM NOT LIKE UNFAITHFUL OR ANYTHING. I JUST THINK HE'S HOT. Yeah. Anyways. I still run a twitter for Robin, but I think he's rebranded as Red Robin. His fit is kinda fire. Don't tell him I said that, though. I don't think people pay me enough for this nonsense, honestly. My current friends are alright. I don't think I find them particularly entertaining, but it's not like I'll see any of them when I move away for college. Is it wrong to dislike your friends? Probably. They drain too much energy whenever I hang out with them. How are your friends? I hope you have a great relationship with your family, or else I am royally fucked."

"Tilt." Tim hums, and you raise your ear, letting Tim pop your studs off for the rubies. "I should get you a new pair."

"Maybe." You laugh. "I have two more pages. The two of them are addressed to you."

"Both?"

"Dearest Tim Drake." You hum, straightening your back as Tim helps you put on your necklace. "I really fucking hope you're the guy I marry, cuz I will burn this letter if not."

"I'm so glad this lived to see the light of day." Tim mumbles, starting with your makeup. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, birdie." You hum. "I remember most of it."

"Good." He grins. "Because I have a letter for you too."

You beam at him, eye closed as he pats your foundation on. "I genuinely can not believe you had sex with me. I do not radiate sex appeal, have an addiction to a Japanese green tea brand, and probably do not study half as much as I should. I have a crippling addition to Red Robin, nearly kissed him at a Halloween party, and once on the rooftop of my dorm. I do not understand why you brought me to a place that I felt I did not belong in, and I wonder if you had just picked me because I seemed like an easy target."

Tim frowns at the words.

"Regardless, I think you're the one. I think it's becoming more apparent just through the assignments I've been writing. Do you love me? Do I love you? Is this called love? I don't know. I haven't loved someone in a long time. I think my best friend calls it a delusionship. A one sided, delusionship. Hopefully they'll be there at our wedding or whatever. Will you buy me an apartment building for our wedding gift? A reverse dowry of twenty billion dollars? I don't even know how much money you have, tch. I just want a nice apartment to live in. The bar is actually in hell. Yet, I find myself catching up with interviews and news about you, desperate to learn more about you and understand just what about you draws me in. You know, I really wonder if you genuinely loved me when you said good morning to me. Maybe you did. Maybe you don't anymore. Human emotions are fickle, after all."

"Lips." He hums.

You open your mouth, jutting out your lip as he helps you apply lipstick.

"Any more?"

"Human emotions are fickle, yet I find myself clawing at my heart when I think of you. Maybe I do love you. Maybe I am nothing in myself, and I need someone to love me. Maybe you showed me love. Maybe, just maybe, you are the one. Yet, I dare not promise it. So, I go back to where I began in this letter, wondering if you would receive it. No kisses this time. May you be the one to send me those instead."

"I think I'm done." Tim takes a step back, lips curled upwards.

You turn to look in the mirror, grinning. "Yeah, birdie?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "I'll read you my vows next, I promise."

"This one's my vows." You hum, folding the paper back up and cutting open an envelope. "Ready?"

"You wanna sit on the couch before the car gets here?"

"Not gonna say no to that." You stand up, Tim leading you as you get used to walking in the dress. "Wow, I keep forgetting how annoying it is to walk in these dresses."

"You're the star of the show tonight." Tim hums. "Depending on whether or not you want to give the paparazzi a show, I can carry you for the whole night too."

"I'll be fine in the heels, I promise." You sit down as Tim lets go of your hand. "Ready for my vows?"

"Of course."

"To beloved birdie, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne." You hum, smoothing out the paper. "We did not get to have proper wedding vows at the courthouse, so I am writing mine down knowing that you will definitely host something at the complaint of your family. I vow to love you until the sun rises from the west and the moon is eradicated — until the moon becomes the sun and the sun becomes the moon, I vow to cherish you even unto death. I vow that when you are sick and dying, when you are struck with illnesses I have never heard of, I will be by your side. I vow that even if the paparazzi decide to tear their claws into my skin to ruin my life, I will stay. I vow that when you are struck by pollen and in need of release, I will be there for you. Until the world collapses and you are no longer red but old, and even when one of us leave, I promise I will be by your side and follow you until there is nothing left in this world but us. I vow that even on the days where we can not stand the presence of each other, we will find each other again. In this universe, the next, and in every universe out there, I vow that I will find you. I vow that even in the worlds that we are not together, I am nearby. I vow that in sickness and health, in richer or poorer, for better or worse, to love and cherish you even unto death. Love you lots, your pretty bird."

Tim holds a napkin to the corner of his eye, blinking to get the tears out of his eyes and onto the napkin, careful to not ruin his makeup.

"Birdie?"

"I can't read my vows without crying right now. Give me a second."

"I'll touch up your makeup if you do." You laugh. "I vow to be by your side through every gala we attend, your makeup forever next to mine, my heart forever yours to hold."

"You're awful." Tim sniffs, laughing as he manages to calm down, unfolding his own letter to you. "To the prettiest bird in every universe. To my beloved wife, I, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne vow to protect you until crime is no longer in existence, to hold you until we both return to the dust of the earth, to love you even after death. I vow to hold only you when I am in need of help, and to seek you out first amongst a crowd of people I have known all my life. I vow that my love for you will not fade, and that I will be infatuated with you for all the days of my life and death, and that on both good and bad days, I will be the person by your side. I vow that even when we are old and wrinkly, I will bring you items that remind me of you, flowers that bring a smile to your face, my whole self for you alone. When you ask of something, I vow to do my best to grant it, and when the end of the world comes, I will shield your body with my own, and in every other universe that I accidentally end up in during missions, to every other version of myself that is not me, I will stand as proof of love to them. May we be tangled in each others' lives throughout all our days."

"I don't know, birdie." A smirk makes its way onto your face. "I'm starting to think I was a lot more dedicated than you were."

"Psh." He rolls his eyes. "I'll read you my letter from the morning after we started going out eventually. "

"WHAT."

"Come on. The ride is here." He holds his hand out for you, and you raise a brow.

"And when will I be reading that letter?"

"One day." He laughs.

You click your tongue as he kneels down to help you put the heels on.

"And that day is?"

"I promise, pretty bird," he hums, sliding your shoe on with a kiss to your hand. "You will read it."

"If you say so." You mumble, yelping as he carries you.

"Ready to scare Gotham shitless?"

"Oh, I've been ready."

#tim drake x reader #☾.events #☾.blurbs #☾.pretty bird

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