#I feel like I both missed something and put too much in

[charlotteking23]

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Y/n has been secretly dating the formula 1 driver Max Verstappen but unfortunately their relationship is revealed by...a live stream.

You watched on the large screen, seeing your boyfriend dominate the track at the sport he loved.

You watched eagerly with your hands curling tightly at the material of your couch, not blinking afraid you would miss something.

sitting beside you were your clingy cats laying on your lap hoping to turn your attention from the screen to them.

As the minutes went by so was the race coming to an end, on the final lap was a battle between the Mclaren and Redbull. Both were neck to neck either one could win but in the end was current world champion who made it across the finish line first.

You jumped up in celebration, clapping your hands seeing your boyfriend with a look of pride.

You turned back to your cats only to be met by one of the stinkiest side eyes you have ever gotten. Sassy and Jimmy only hissed at you for a second before continuing to lay down on you.

You waited eagerly for your phone to ring hoping it was Max. And in no time their he was facetiming you in all he sweaty glory.

"I am so proud of you, baby", You spoke softly.

"I hope you were watching, Liefje", He said with a grin but he knew you always watched his race no matter the circumstances.

You blushed bashfully trying to hide your tomato face hearing his teasing laughter.

"I wish you ere here, Liefje", Max said changing the topic back to reality.

"You know I want to be there but I can't", You softly said. You want to be there truly to support Max at the sport he loves but you can't.

"I know, I'II call you later Okay", Max smiled trying to ease your worries.

"Okay", You softly said before hanging up the call turning your phone away from you in sadness.

You were a shy person who always kept towards themselves but after you met Max your life took a drastic turn to luxury. But your soft-spoken nature never change.

You were so afraid of what his fans might think of you, you decided to keep your relationship a secret. That was a year ago, Max has been supported about your decision but you could see the look on his face.

You could see how jealous he was seeing the other f1 drivers celebrating and being in love with their girlfriends and wives iin public while he can't.

You hate yourself seeing Max upset like that and you wish you get over you fear but it's just so hard...

You knew Max was going to come back tomorrow, and it was the perfect time to talk about your relationship.

As you went to sleep, you couldn't help but miss Max so much, It was these times that you wished you could go with him and be by his side.

As you woke up, you look terrible upon looking at the mirror seeing huge eye bags and your disheveled hair in disgust.

Taking a nice warm shower before getting ready for the day, putting on cute matching white outfits. As you walked towards the kitchen you saw Max..

You ran towards pulling him to a bone crushing hug.

"Hey Liefje, I missed you too", Max chuckled before embracing you equally as much before hearing the cats meow for more food.

"And I see the cats have missed you just as much", You said softly before scratching both of your cats behind the ear hearing them purr in pleasure.

"when did you get here", You said standing back up.

"While you were in the shower, you know I couldn't stay away for that long", Max smirk before putting little kisses all over your face.

"speaking of which, Max I want to talk to you", You spoke softly but no matter Max saw how serious you were.

You led him to the couch where you could both sit, Max sat next to you holding your hands in worry.

"What's wrong", Max frowned. His eyebrows creased on his forehead no matter how many times you told him not to do that.

As you took a deep breath, "I feel like...", but before you could continue Max stood up hastily interrupting you.

"No, I refused to break up, I love you so much. I see my future with you, please don't give up on us", Max desperately said before going on his knees to you.

"Max that was so sweet but that was not what I was going to say and I don't ever want to break up with you", You gently pulled his hands so he could sit next to you again.

"Baby, I want to make our relationship public, I think it's time-", before you finish your sentence Max stood up for the second time dancing in celebration.

"Huh, oh um are you sure Liefje", Max spoke out with his fake tone of worry. You nodded your head not even a second later seeing your boyfriend again danced in happiness.

You smiled seeing your boyfriend so happy, "So that means at the next race you will come with me", Max grinned ear to ear seeing you nod again.

Max was still riding high from your spectacle news, a smile plaster on his face for days. Some of the other drivers were even creeped out from Max constant smiles.

"Hmm Liefje, I gonna go stream with some of the guys", Max called out to you from the other room.

"Okay", you said softly before continuing the show you were watching.

You didn't know how the time got away from you that fast it was already 7:20 pm. And you were starving, too tired to cook you decided to ask what Max wanted to order out from.

You opened the door a little just enough to peak your head through. You signal Max waiting for him to see.

"Huh, okay guys I think that's enough live streaming for today. I will see you guys later", He smiled out before turning it off.

"Hey Liefje, don't worry the live stream is done", Max said standing up and waving you over.

You happily came over before wrapping your arms around Max pecking his lips softly.

"what do you want for dinner?, I'm thinking order in", you said softly brushing some of max hair away from his face to see his gorgeous blue eyes.

"What ever you want, Liefje", Max smiled swaying you gently.

"hmm what ab-", Before you could finish the red dot on the computer catch your eyes. "What does that red dot mean?".

Max quickly turned his head towards your direction before quickly scrambling to turn it off properly. After turning it off he sighed out in disapointment.

"Liefje, I am so sorry I didn't turn it off properly. I never meant our secret to come out like this", Max quietly said mumbling out incoherent sorry's, looking down in shame.

"It's okay, baby. We'll figure it out", you said gently rubbing his back trying to calm him down.

You and Max both turned off your phone, avoiding Max pr manager and all of social media not ready to face it yet.

"Don't worry this weekend is the race, we'll clear everything then right now let's not think about it", You gently spoke out trying to have Max understand it was not his fault and it was a simple accident. You could tell by his eyes and face how guilty he feels.

"Yeah..Okay", Max mumbles out.

Seeing Max go to sleep makes my heart burn for him..I hope everything goes well this weekend.

Liked by Username1, Redbullfan, and 304K others

F1gossip: rumors spiral around the paddock as we see a new WAG insight. It is a mystery who she is but It might be the same girl who Max accidentally revealed in the live stream. What do you think?

View all 2,427 comments

Username5: I can’t believe Max has a girlfriend

Redbullprincess: How do we even know it’s true?

Username7: Fr it could be like someone in his family or something

Maxiefan2: AWW their so cute

DuDuDuDu: I wish we knew who this girl was

Landonorris: What, WHAT! how could he not tell me

danielriccardo: HAHA, even I knew Username34: Daniel tell us what you know

Username98: She's not even pretty

Username20: Girl, just say your jealous

Liked by Maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 864K others

yourusername: I might be a Max Versappen fan but I am a Ferrari fan through and through 😉

View all 5,146 comments

maxverstappen1: betrayed by my own girlfriend

Yourusername: 🙄 I said what I said

Username23: OMG, its Max mystery girlfriend

alexandrasaintmleux: can't wait to see you again 🩵

Maxiefan4: Our pinterest girl

charles_leclerc: Everyone is a ferrari fan

yourusername: Omg brain freeze, huge fan maxverstappen1: Oh lord, this can't be happening charles_leclerc: Stay jealous Verstappen

Username45: Gorgeous, stunning, a princess

Username67: UM, not Max fighting with Charles

maxverstappen1: not my fault,he's trying to steal my girlfriend yourusername: Such a baby Username67: Didn't expect him to actually reply.

Maleguyusername: Your pretty

maxverstappen1: Hey back off, she's mine yourusername: What are you, a dog that needs to pee on their territiory 🐺 maxverstappen1: Acually I am a lion landonorris: CRINGE

Liked by DanielRiccardo, Redbull, and 3.5M others

maxverstappen1: Making this clear, my girlfriend is NOT a Ferrari fan and as you can see, she is wearing loud and proud redbull merch. So @charles_leclerc you suck. 🙂‍↕️

View all 8,387 comments

yourusername: When have I ever said that

maxverstappen1: you didn't have too charles_leclerc: You broke my heart Y/n maxverstappen1: Yeah get over it

alexandrasaintmleux: I want to do a double date but I am scared, how are these two children gonna act.

yourusername: who said they're coming, it's me, you and Leo charles_leclerc: really, taking my own son yourusername: he likes me better anyway🤷

Username47: WOW, max is so petty he even tagged charles

landonorris: thank godness it wasn't me Username47: Lando norris just responded back to me I could faint.

danielriccardo: How come I don't ever get an appreciation post!!

maxverstappen1: that's because you're not my girlfriend danielriccardo: SQUEEZE ME, um did our relationship mean anything to you yourusername: @danielriccardo get in line

Username53: I can't wait till they get married

Username87: Stop, best couple

redbullracing: Y/N, if I see you one more time in Ferrari gear, you can say bye bye to those vip passes to your favorite concert for your birthday

yourusername: did I say I was a Ferrari fan you must be mistaken. Always a redbull fan hehe. 😇 maxverstappen1: Liessssss🐍 yourusername: shut up, or you'll be sleeping on the couch 😙

Masterlist🩷

[authorhjk1]

How does DC give head? 🤔

Jiu

"Oh god."

You groan when you feel Jiu's tongue swirl around your tip. Both her hands are placed on your thighs, your own hand on the back of her head. But you don't do anything. Jiu is the one taking good care of you.

"Does this feel good, baby?"

You can only nod, silently begging her to put her lips on your cock once more. It isn't even the way she gives you blowjobs. It's just the fact that she seems to enjoy herself so much while doing so, that turns you breathless. And it isn't that cock hungry lust either. It's pure affection.

Jiu only has eyes for you. Especially in the bedroom.

SuA

"C-Can you slow down?"

"Take it like a man."

SuA's response makes your head roll back as she sucks on your tip once more. She is stroking your cock with a torturous pace, making you flinch, whenever she tightens her grip a little. SuA always pushes you right towards the limit. She sucks you off very aggressively, before stopping at the last moment. Then, she strokes just as fast, threatening to hurt you badly, just so she can stop right before the edge once more.

"I-Please..."

"What's the magic word?"

"Mommy?"

"Good baby boy."

She likes it when you call her that. You always feel a little ashamed afterwards, after giving her so much control over you. But if that means she'll let you cum...

Siyeon

Siyeon likes to play with you. Similar to SuA. The only problem is, Siyeon doesn't understand the difference between privacy and public.

"C-Can't we wait, until we're home?"

Siyeon looks up at you as you melt further and further into the sofa, which is standing in Dreamcatcher's dressing room.

"Why?"

Her innocent face and the tone of her voice conflict with what she is doing to you right now.

"What if the others...."

You can't finish your sentence. Siyeon has decided to shut you up by letting her tongue dance around your length a couple of times.

"What if the others what?"

Once again, she makes you think that you're the problem and not her.

"Don't you like what I'm doing?"

"I-"

Before you can answer, Siyeon is all over your cock once again. And so, like after every Dreamcatcher performance, you're left with anxiety, fear and pleasure at the same time.

Handong

If there would be an Olympic competition for not running out of ideas for roleplaying scenarios, Handong would definitely win gold.

You can't count the amount of outfits she only bought for sex. Just like this one. A grey, see through blouse, her black bra clearly visible. Expensive looking glasses and the tightest and shortest skirt she could find.

You've seen Handong several times in this outfit before. Strict teacher Ms. Kim, rich heiress Lady Handong, submissive student Dongie. But today she is someone different once again.

"W-We shouldn't be doing this."

You groan when you feel her soft hands stroke your base, while her tongue plays with your tip. So far, not one of her characters was a miss.

"It's okay, sweetie."

Handong looks up at you, a mischievous smile on her face.

"I'm not your real mom anyways. And as your stepmom, it's my job to take care of you."

Yoohyeon

Yoohyeon is never the one who initiates something sexual. Even when she's in the mood, she just clings too you, until you finally suggest something. And public sex isn't really the things for her either.

But when the two of you are alone, that's where she shines. She always seems sweet and shy, so you never expected her to be this much into being tied up. Just like right now.

Yoohyeon's hands are tied behind her back, and a collar decorates her neck. The end of the leash, or rather chain, is loosely lying in your right hand.

"Am I being a good puppy for you, master?"

"Yes, you're a good girl."

You pat her head as Yoohyeon resumes her blowjob. She does take the pet play to an extreme sometimes, but you like it the way it is right now the most.

"You're doing great."

Yoohyeon gives you a gorgeous smile, but you force her back onto your cock by pulling at the chain a little.

Dami

Dami puts her finger on her lips, telling you to shut up. Her other hand is covering your mouth, making sure the two of you don't get caught.

She resumes her blowjob a moment later. You feel your eyes rolling back as she swallows your cock.

It's late already and SuA and Jiu are sleeping on the couch right next to you. The credits of the movie you just watched are still rolling. But like always, Dami just has to tease and play with your anxiety at every chance she gets.

"Be a good boy for me and stay quiet."

She whispers, before focusing on your cock once more. You groan into her hand as you feel Dami slowly forcing her mouth further down your shaft, until your cock finally fills her throat.

Gahyun

"What the hell, Gahyun?"

You push her head off of you. Your cock is covered in her spit, her mouth messy as well.

"I told you."

A mischievous grin plays around her lips.

"Voting for me to get killed during the mafia game will have consequences."

"I was just playing the game, Gahyun. I-"

Before you can react, Gahyun starts to fuck her throat with your cock once more.

"Fuck!"

You can't help but groan loudly. Which is still not as bad as the sounds she is making. All of Dreamcatcher must hear the youngest gags as she keeps impaling her throat on your cock. Spit bubbles form on the base of your cock, while Gahyun's hands are placed flat on your thighs to give her more leverage.

"Gahyun..."

It's a combination of groan and plea. You can almost see Jiu's disapproving look right in front of you as her precious maknae ruins herself all over your cock on purpose.

When Gahyun finally takes all of you, her lips kissing your base, she stays in place for a while. The silence doesn't last long though. After a couple of seconds, she starts to cough up spit, drenching your cock in even more saliva. By now the whole group must know what's going on.

[paranoiddreams]

Beware ೀ (HC)

‹𝟹 Stoner!Sukuna x GN!reader

‹𝟹 Warnings!! - THIS IS PURELY FANTASY!!, non-con, drugging, marijuana use, pls do not read if any of these topics trigger you!!, unprotected sex, pervy dirty nasty thoughts😔, mentions of masterbation (m), mentions of creampies :3, Sukuna is messed up, I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but if it comes off more fem I’m srry, porn a little plot?, just filth as usual *sigh*, a random Ethel Cain ref (Gibson Girl) bc I can’t help myself, lmk if I missed anything<3

‹𝟹 A/n!! - once again, was writing this while listening to this song while writing this lolz. I was gonna name Animals the title of the song, but decided not to, and then wrote this and thought the title fit :3 Forgive the writing if it’s not up to par, I’m so sleep deprived rn😀 But neways, I hope you all enjoy this and share my love for stoner!sukuna😌 I’m seriously considering making a oneshot continuing this🧍🏻‍♀️

Stoner!Sukuna who’s your best friend, despite being a delinquent in a rock band, and you an innocent, stereotypical, goody two-shoes.

Stoner!Sukuna who towers over you with his muscular frame, and plays any song you want on his guitar. If he doesn’t know it, he’ll learn it.

Stoner!Sukuna who always smells like weed and cologne, and almost never wears any color other than black and grey.

Stoner!Sukuna who invites you over to his crappy apartment all the time, and even has a pink fluffy blanket on his bed for you.

Stoner!Sukuna who smokes a blunt while you both watch movies together, often watching a rom-com you chose despite his usual disdain for them.

Stoner!Sukuna who offers you a hit every time you come over, even though he knows you’ll just say no with that cute, innocent smile of yours. And you always do.

Stoner!Sukuna who has to stop smoking indica around you because the strain makes it even harder to push down his impure, feral thoughts about you.

Stoner!Sukuna who pulls you closer to him when the movie has really got you sucked in, grinning at how cute you look when you’re invested in something.

Stoner!Sukuna who can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full of his cum multiple times, making you cum in cock each time, whenever you cuddle into his side and throw a leg over his.

Stoner!Sukuna who decides after getting high alone one night and jerking off thinking about you that it is definitely time you get high for the first time. And he should be the one to show you :)

Stoner!Sukuna who bakes your favorite brownies with M&M’s, but adds a secret ingredient without telling you, watching with a smile as you eat a whole one without much thought.

Stoner!Sukuna who pulls you into his arms as soon as you’re both done eating, offering to let you pick a movie, as always.

Stoner!Sukuna who notices how clingy and needy you’re getting after 30 minutes of the movie you put on, already feeling his cock getting hard in his shorts as soon as your face nuzzles into his chest.

Stoner!Sukuna who shushes you gently when you start whining about feeling a little weird, his hands running down your back to feel your skin warming up under your clothes.

Stoner!Sukuna whose hands wander a little farther than usual, knowing you’re too high by now to even register it.

Stoner!Sukuna whose hard cock is pressed against your stomach as you lie on top of him, making it hard for him not to tear your clothes off and breed you then and there.

Stoner!Sukuna who places his hands on your hips, slowly grinding himself up into your clothed sex, closing his eyes with a low moan.

Stoner!Sukuna who feels your growing arousal through your clothes, and says: “Baby, if it feels good, then it can’t be bad,” when you ask him what he’s doing.

Stoner!Sukuna who whispers lewd words into your ear as he pulls your pants off, knowing that’s he’s got you in his clutches.

[verstappentime]

@sunsetmog & i have gone deep into the sugar baby daniel rabbit hole so here's max trying to upgrade dan to full time sugar baby. it helped me feel better on my dreadful monday so y'all should have it as well <33 (read hers first)

Max is already out of bed when Daniel gets up. He's exhausted and heavy and sore. He feels like he could sleep another eight hours. Max would let him. But he has to go back to work tomorrow and he's not going to see Max for weeks and weeks after that. He's not in bed and Daniel misses him already, right now.

He wanders out into the kitchen. Max is perched at the breakfast bar, eating cereal and watching something on his phone, which is propped up on a book. Daniel keeps telling him to just put a TV in here, so he can stop sitting hunched over like a gremlin, but Max is hard to make do things if they're not for other people.

"Hey," he says, and watches Max's features soften when he looks up.

Max struggles getting off his barstool, all stuck to it, in a rush to see him after probably, like, an hour. They're so embarrassing. He's so in love it hurts.

"Baby," Max says, sounding wounded. He touches Daniel's cheek, frowning like something's not where he left it. "You look so tired."

"That's alright." Daniel likes that Max notices him. He just– doesn't like that look on his face. "Am I still pretty, then?"

"Don't be stupid. You are of course very gorgeous and handsome." Max is still scrutinizing him. "But you are here all weekend and still tired."

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of in a deficit. I'm just. Gonna." Daniel brushes his hand off, not harshly, stepping around Max to pick out a mug and go for a latte.

He likes this new espresso machine. He's seen on the package delivery app from his apartment complex that Max got him one for his place – he's going to pretend to be surprised when he gets back.

Max is still hovering. Daniel lets him chew on whatever's bothering him. He rummages for sugar and debates between the four kinds of non-dairy milk Max got for him without turning to look.

"Are you alright?" Max asks, finally, as he's pouring milk into the frother.

"We established that I'm tired, Max. It's okay. Maybe I'll nap later."

Max wraps both arms around him from behind, forehead against the back of his neck. "I think maybe it's not going away," he says.

He can't cry, but he wants to. Max has never been with him during a bad spell. But he'd warned him. I won't want to do anything. I might need you to be a bit mean to get me to eat or shower. I'll be tired but sleep won't fix it.

"I'm just working too much." It sounds stupid.

Max says what Daniel's thinking. "It can be both." He pulls away. It doesn't sound like he's going to push it. "Can you show me how to do the coffee? So I can do it for you."

He breathes out. "Yeah, okay."

&&&

Max is skipping his training routine, and he doesn't say why.

He stays in with Daniel on the couch, and they watch It's Always Sunny, which Daniel can't believe Max has never seen and makes him nearly choke on his Red Bull.

It's good. He feels a little better after his coffee. They're good.

Max has been tracing loops on his thigh for awhile. He thinks one was a love heart. It means Max is thinking.

Dennis is about to tell the gang he's leaving, and it's important, but Max pauses the TV. He says, "Don't go back to work tomorrow."

"What?" He's out of PTO. Max knows that. They've gone over it ten times. "You know I can't–"

"Don't go back. Tomorrow or– don't go back. You don't have to. You don't have to worry about money. This is stupid." Max squeezes Daniel's thigh, urgent, which is about the only thing keeping his head from spinning off. "This is going to make you unwell and I don't want– there is no point when I can take care of it."

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

(like running away and stealing your pseudo sister’s costume and then your brothers bsf decides to come with you, young feelings are complicated yall)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Twin Sister Reader (platonic), Jon Kent x Reader (romantic)

Picture me this, Reader is Damian’s Twin Sister who gets discharged from being Robin (They say fired, Bruce says discharged) shortly after Damian is brought back home after running away. Reader kind of feels guilty for wanting her twin to reject the role so she can stay as Girl Wonder, but no he takes back the mantle, (which is like like being left in the desert without water), her other siblings and batfam high key felt this was a bit cold of Bruce (especially Steph since she herself was also fired from being Robin)

The rest of her siblings just walk on eggshells cause they know what’s happened and try and comfort her but Reader gets so fed up of all the smothering and being fired being shoved in her face, so she literally just takes her phone and a couple essentials and whilst everyone’s asleep sneaks into the Batcave and steals one of the Batgirl costumes (specifically Barbara’s old purple and yellow one, as she was now reclaiming her identity as Oracle) and flees deciding she’s going to prove her worth by setting up post elsewhere and becoming the newest Batgirl. (While simultaneously sending her family into a worry)

(Not at all comic book canon but instead of Tim reclaiming the role the reader comes along costume ready since Tim needs to do something else besides being Robin 😭)

I thought about it and I thought it would be so cute for reader to have Jon Kent as a love interest, (there’s not enough Twin!Batsis x Jon Kent) like imagine being friends with Y/N Wayne and she announces she’s running away to go lead the rough life but you don’t want her to leave so you come with her and create double trouble together. (Would create so much drama considering his friendship with Damian) also I would age up Reader and Damian to be about 16 (since Dc aged Jon up and we can’t have nice things so they leave Damian the same)

It would be even funnier if Bruce and Clark connected the dots are both desperately wanted to be wrong into Oracle taps into the security footage of Metropolis where you were last seen and you and Jon are coming out of your little operations base and the whole Batcave is like “oh hell.” (Damian is convinced you kidnapped Jon and that the Lazarus Pit madness is getting to you, he’s still going to pin it all on Jon like your his twin pff)

Reader won’t and will never kill again, yes she’s pissed at her father but even when her and her brother were with the League she never particularly liked the killing, now she’s grown to become very verbal of the no killing rule. Reader isn’t worried though, if things get too out of hand and she accidentally nearly slips up Jon will be there to put her back on track and bring her back to reality.

This all probably ends with them getting caught and turning themselves in because at the end of the day they are both just kids who miss their respective families. (Even Reader)

We also need more Cass x Batsis love (platonic) so I’m going to include some of that. But yeah. I need to write this shit now.

This is gonna be such dramatic but so funny at the same time.

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

how different is a heated scowl from a delirious kiss, really; or maybe I’m just focusing too religiously on your mouth.

ax72 x reader: he’s the worst until he isn’t.

(warnings: lots of plot in addition to blasphemous filth (really...i got carried away), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling (hello, old friend), choking (hello, older friend), biting (i can’t write him without it), praise, all my usual stuff (you guys know what i’m about), just be warned.  don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.) gif is not mine.)

(a/n: what's up, favorites? i'm excited to give you back some ax72. this fictional ax72 in particular - something special about people who are nice to your siblings. please note that i don't write what hockey games are actually like, i write what helps move my plot forward (so, yes, he can mouth words to you from the penalty box). it's been so weird reading these back again, especially the earlier ones. how do i say this - i'm just not as horny anymore? like i haven't written smut in a really long time, and i feel no general obligation or desire to. honestly, some of the smut i've written is so funny to me because i don't even understand how it came from my brain. anyways, i'm happy that you guys seem to enjoy it, regardless. i'm glad that you guys can be horny enough for the both of us. love you and your snakes so, so much. miss you and respect you and hope you're doing well. go canucks (i feel like i'm out of touch with the hockey narratives...what storylines should i be following?). until next time, all my love).

you’d been driving your younger brother to and from hockey practice for the last three years, since he first started playing, when his helmet was far too big for his head, so much so that you thought if he leaned forward he would topple over entirely.

and in all those years, he had never come out of the rink like this, posture slouched, face empty, dragging his feet.  his bag of equipment looked like it weighed a million pounds, full of bricks.  his rosy, round face, usually so joyful on the way out of those doors, so eager to tell you about practice, looked positively exhausted, done, physically and emotionally.

you rolled down the window as he walked up.  “what’s wrong, bug?” you asked, tried to make your voice strong-willed so as not to upset him further.

he shrugged, lugged his stuff into the trunk.  “tough practice,” he said, sounding like an adult, which you hated.  the effort with which he spoke settled in your stomach, plumed into volcanic anger.  “new coach.”

you furrowed your brows as he shut the trunk and climbed into the front seat.  “new coach?  i liked your old coach.”

“he’s still there,” he said, “but we have a new assistant.  he’s a little-” he took a breath, again making him look older than he was.  “tough.”

you searched his eyes for some kind of meaning, found only the resigned bitterness you so despised whenever you saw it in yourself.  without another thought, you drove to the nearest open spot and put the car in park.  

“why are we parked?”

you made to get out of the car.  “you look tired, bug.  just going to go get you a gatorade, okay?”  something lighter flashed across his eyes, making you smile.  little by little, you would do what you could to undo whatever this coach had done, unload this burden he had so carelessly thrown onto the shoulders of your brother.  “don’t open the door for anyone, yeah?  i’ll be right back.”

you locked the car behind you and made your way into the rink for the first time this season, found it practically identical to how you remembered it.  you scanned the ice for the older man you knew, then locked eyes with him and waved him over with a smile, one you didn’t have to force.  this coach had always been kind to you as well as your brother.

“hey, kiddo!” he said fondly as he approached.  

“hi, coach,” you replied, the chill in the air tinting your cheeks.

“your boy should be out already, yeah?  practice ended about fifteen minutes ago,” he said, looking at his watch.  

you nodded.  “he’s in the car.  i just need to talk to this new assistant he was telling me about.”

understanding flashed across the older man’s eyes.  “right, xhekaj,  he’s helping us out during the rest of his off season.  part of this program his club set up.”  he turned in the opposite direction.  “xhekaj! want you to meet someone,” he called out.

the man across the ice turned from where he had been collecting pucks, set them on the bench, and skated over.  as he got closer, you observed how he was impressively graceful for what may have been the most physically imposing man you had ever seen.

he was tall, almost menacingly so on skates, and so broad that you had to remind yourself not to cower back.  his dark hair, which looked so soft, curled at the ends is a just barely feminine way.  you told yourself that you did not notice the way his sweatpants strained over his legs, or how massive his hands were, or how sharp his jawline was.

you were here for your brother.  you would not be intimidated.  nor, you amended, would you be distracted.

he glided to an effortless stop in front of you, a motion that looked as simple as breathing.  

“this is our new assistant coach, arber xhekaj,” the head coach said, gesturing to the wall of a man next to him.  “xhekaj, this is sixteen’s sister.  i’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of her this season, if you behave,” he said with a lighthearted smile that lit up his weathered face.  

you forced your gaze to meet arber’s for the first time, found his eyes running over your frame, making your exhale come out short and choppy.  you crossed your arms as his eyes finally locked on yours, something like shameless mirth shimmering over his face.  his lazy smirk shook you off balance and set a slow-burning fuse aflame in your stomach.  you cut your gaze back to the older coach.

“i’ll leave you to it.  good to see you, kid.”  the familiar man said as he skated off with a nod.

when you turned back to face arber, his eyes were already on you.  maybe they hadn’t left.  “what can i do for you, darling?” he asked, that slow smirk playing on his full mouth.  you suffocated the sparks his address ignited, instead funneled them into your anger, letting it simmer and grow.

“you could start by telling me why my little brother looks like he’s been kicked in the stomach,” you offered.

any playfulness was gone from his eyes in a moment.  “there’s always one, eh?” he asked no one in particular.  

“what?” you snapped.

he crossed his arms across his expanse of a chest.  “there’s always one.  parent, or sister, or whatever, who can’t handle their kid actually being pushed in practice.”  he said, sounding bored.  he looked you up and down, again.  you didn’t find it any less unnerving.  “least i know who it is.”

“i can handle him being pushed!” you bit out.  

“yeah?” he asked, tilting his head.  “this is you, handling it?”  he gave a look of false understanding.  “the picture of calm and poise, truly.”

you pursed your lips.  “hockey is supposed to be fun first.  and he did not have fun today.”  you did not back down, nor let your posture falter.  “so next practice, i expect to see him smiling when he walks out.”

you could have punched that smirk off his face.  “yeah?  or what, darling?”

“or you’ll be seeing a lot more of me than you’d like,” you said.

“promise?” he asked, his voice overripe with teasing.

you turned to leave, beginning the walk back.

“so you came in here just to whine at me?” that deep voice called from behind you.  you could feel his eyes burning into you.  “don’t waste your time.  i’ve got lots of pretty girls asking around for me, darling.”

“oh, don’t flatter yourself.  you just happened to be here,” you called back.  “i only came in to get a gatorade.”

you smiled at his lack of response before grabbing two yellow gatorades from the snack bar and getting back into the car.

“that was long,” your brother said, barely looking up from the game on his phone.  

“sorry, bug,” you said, placing the bottles in the cupholders before pulling away onto the road.  “line like you wouldn’t believe.”

luckily, he seemed to be in much better spirits.  

still, later that night, as you tried to fall asleep, you couldn’t help but look up the name “arber xhekaj.”  it was so you could familiarize yourself with your opponent.  that’s how you rationalized it.

and of course his stats were impressive, if not especially physical.  but even if he was a professional hockey player, he had messed with the wrong family.  you refused to let him forget that.

so, the next day, when your brother came out of the rink again looking defeated, you could have growled.  

“bug,” you said, parking the car, “i need to talk to your coach, okay?  do you want to wait here?”

“i’ll wait here,” he said.

you located arber immediately, your gaze fixed to him almost magnetically.  but he found you quickly, too, without any signal, that smirk materializing as he skated over to you.  

“let me guess,” he said, sliding to a stop and leaning on the side of his stick, almost comically long.  “baby brother didn’t think practice was as fun as disney land?”  he gave a theatrically dramatic pout, drawing attention to his lips.  your attention, that is.  “listen, darling, i’m not making eight-year-olds fight to the death.  they’ve got a coach for the fun stuff.  i’m here so they actually get better.”

that actually made sense.  you licked your lips.  “i’m all for getting better,” you said, trying a more gentle approach.

“that’s great to hear,” he said monotonously, anticipating a “but.”

“but there doesn’t need to be a good-coach bad-coach dynamic.  you can push them and still be nice.  be positive and fun.”

he gave a low laugh before turning away, obviously done with this conversation.  “maybe some people can, darling, but not me.  that’s not me.”

you felt his laugh like a seismic wave, throwing you off balance.  again.  “and who’s this ‘you’ you mean?” you asked, growing heated at his dismissal of your simple request.  “the blank scoresheet except for penalty minutes?  the pretty boy who can’t play?”

his laugh this time came from deep in his chest.  you hated how it made your stomach turn. 

“aw, darling,” he cooed, voice deep and lazy.  “you really think i’m pretty?”

you huffed before turning to walk out of the rink, unsuccessful.  it irked you how he could make you so uneasy, but you couldn’t do the same to him.  

“try not to get too hot and bothered when you watch my highlights tonight!” he called out after you.

you clenched your teeth at the obvious joy your anger evoked in him, and vowed that you would not engage with him again for the rest of the season.  it didn’t get you anywhere, and if you were as kind as you could be to your brother, maybe you could help prepare him to stand up for himself instead of trying to fight his battles for him.

so, for the two weeks, you didn’t go into the rink.  you stuck to your routine of dropping off and picking up, no funny business, no extracurriculars with certain assistant coaches.  

“make your own fun today, okay, bug?” you told him before he got out of the car.  

and slowly, he stopped dragging his feet on the way to your car.  his smile came quicker, easier, lighting up the round, rosy cheeks that you so loved.  and so the image of those quicksand brown eyes faded to the back of your mind.

until one afternoon, when the very figure you were trying to forget was carrying your brother’s hockey bag, walking right behind him.  you rolled down the window after your brother had gotten into the front seat and arber had easily swung the bag into the trunk.  

he then walked around and leaned on the side of the car, his forearms resting on the open window.  

“say thanks, bug,” you nudged your brother.

“thanks, coach,” he said, a but of a smile in his voice.  

arber waved a hand as if to dismiss it.  “no problem,” he said, his hand resting on the window again.  your eyes widened momentarily at the sheer size of his hand, of him.  when you tore your eyes up to meet his, he was smirking.

“distracted, darling?” he asked, false innocence drenching his gaze.

you rolled your eyes, but you felt yourself blush.  “i’m glad to see everyone in good spirits,” you said, hoping he would catch onto the meaning.  “really.”

“well,” he drawled.  “i think i might have to start being especially tough.”

“what?” you said, all business in tone.  “why?”

“because i can’t have you staying out here in the car, darling,” he said, tilting his head.  “and you only visit me when you’re mad.”

you shook your head, felt your blush deepen.  “i do not visit you, arber,” you said.

his face lit up at the sound of his name on your lips.  “right, you just ask around about me and read my stats to help you sleep.” he said through a cocky grin.  “you’ll be at family skate, yeah?”

you bit your lip, noticed how his eyes followed the movement, stopped immediately.  

“you’re always at family skate,” your brother observed, not looking up from his phone.  you slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder.

“then i’ll see you there,” arber said, handing two yellow gatorades to your brother.  he slapped the side of the car twice before pulling back, his smile that of a school boy who charmed his way into extra dessert at lunch.  

you put the car in drive so he wouldn’t see your face, completely vulnerable, completely touched.  “i’m still mad at you,” you called out the window as a last resort.

“good,” he called back, running a hand through his hair.  “like you mad.”

you groaned and slapped your hand on the steering wheel as you pulled out of the parking lot, trying to stop yourself from becoming endeared.  trying.

family skate came faster than you wanted.  but, soon enough, the day was here, and there you were, in the family locker room, already cold, and failing miserably at tying your rental skates.  

“bug, how you you do this?” you asked to your right, but he had already gone out to the ice.  you huffed, reached for the laces again.

“need some help, darling?” 

you looked up to find him leaning against the doorframe, face lit up with amusement.  you didn’t have the time or patience to turn him away.

“yes, please,” you said, and watched his eyes grow dark, if only for a second.  he cleared his throat and made his way over, touching one knee to the ground in front of you.

suddenly the air felt hot, the chill completely melted away as he looked up at you.  a welcome change of pace from you always looking up at him.

“can i touch you?” he asked, looking at you through his lashes, dark and full.

you coughed.

his laugh was a grumble.  “just to tie your skates, darling, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

you felt yourself flush across your nose.  “i know,” you tried, “and it’s fine.”

he smirked at your response as he gently tugged one of your legs towards him by your calf, his grip firm and warm, so much so that you felt a loss when he took his hand off of you, used both hands to pull the laces of your skates taut and tie them up.

the silence only made things worse, heightened the heat that was growing in your stomach, the heat you were sure he could feel radiating from you.  

he finished one skate by tying a bow.  “how’s that feel?”

was he doing that on purpose?  “perfect,” you said, as confidently as you could.

he hummed in affirmation as he began to tie the second one, tugging your other calf towards him and shifting forward on his knee. 

you trained your gaze on the ceiling as he finished up.  

“something interesting up there?” he asked as he tied a bow, looking up at you.  “are they projecting my sports center feature on the ceiling?”

you rolled your eyes, actually happy that he was lightening the atmosphere, which had grown uncomfortably heavy and expecting.

he smiled at your reaction, then knocked the toes of your skates together twice.  at your inquisitive look, he pushed himself off of his knee.  “superstition,” he explained, then extended a hand to you.  “let’s go, your bug will be wondering where you are.”

you hoped he thought your flush was from the cold as his hand enveloped yours and pulled you to your feet.  

you shook off the effect he had on you as you stepped onto the ice, not necessarily a talented skater but good enough to move slowly and not hold onto the boards.  your brother found you quickly and began to skate circles around you, literally.

“alright, alright,” you said, a smile on your face.  “let’s keep in mind that you actually play hockey, and i very much do not.”

for the next half hour, you skated around with your brother, engaging in polite conversation with the parents and kids on the ice with you.  you did, however, remain crucially aware of arber’s presence, could still feel his hands on your calves, his grip on your fingers.

eventually, you decided to lean against the boards to catch your breath.  before long you felt him next to you.  “had enough?” he asked.  

you pushed yourself off the boards.  “nope,” you said, willing stability into your legs.

he grinned, easily gliding alongside you as you moved forward.  “are you sure you’re related to your brother?” he said.  “he’s such a natural skater.”

“and?” you pressed, pretending to be offended.

he laughed before spinning to face you, skating backwards in front of you, his hands in his pockets.

“show off,” you scoffed.  

“you can’t take your eyes off me, darling.  it’s okay, you can be honest with me.”

“don’t be cocky,” you said.

“like you don’t love it.”  at your reaction, his smirk only deepened.  “keep rolling those pretty eyes, darling, not foolin’ me.”

you shook your head, tried to will the blush away.  “you’re a defensemen.  it’s literally your job to skate backwards.”

“i forget you research me in your free time,” he said with a small scrunch of his nose.  you shook your head, to which he did the same.  “that’s a lie,” he added, “i think of it often, actually.”  fire blossomed between you.  “of you.”

the truth in his eyes made you stumble, falling forward, right into him.  one of his arms steadied your hip, the other reaching all the way around your back to hold you up, both of your hands flat against his chest.  you tilted your neck back to look at him, found exactly what you were afraid of.  what you were feeling, reflected back at you.

you were sure that when he let you go, there would be a scorched imprint of his hand on your hip.  

“you can let go of me, now,” you said, your voice little more than a whisper.

a meaningful pause settled between you before he replied.  “you’re right,” he said, his thumb making circles on your hip.  “i could.”

you swallowed, feeling your eyes grow drowsy, almost intoxicated with the feeling of him so close, all around you.  your gaze dropped to his mouth, slowly made its way back up to his eyes, so dark and deep.  his embrace around you tightened.  was he leaning forward?

a cough from beside you snapped you out of your trance.  you practically leapt out of his arms.  

there your brother stood, holding his helmet.  “ready to go?” he asked, looking between the two of you.  

“yup,” you croaked, clearing your throat.  “let’s go, bug.”

you sped through the process of returning your skates and getting back in the car, desperate to avoid arber.  on the drive home, you worked to come up with a plan on how to avoid him, as you knew he was a terrible idea.  a terrible, horrible idea that would only leave you hurt and unable to enter the rink ever again.

so, you decided you would give it a couple weeks, give whatever you were feeling time to fizzle out, give yourself time to forget about him, your body some time to adjust, forget this temptation.  you would park your car in a different place than usual, tell your brother to carry his own bag, that it was good for his independence.  

and, for a while, it worked, at least well enough.  but, one day, when your brother got back into the car, he said, “coach arber asked about you today.”

you tried to ignore the reaction even his name stirred up within you.  “yeah?  what did he say?”

“asked why you haven’t been in,” he said, looking out the window.

you maintained your composure.  “and what did you say?”

“just that you usually wait out in the car now.  in a different spot.”

“fuck,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself.

so, the next day, you weren’t necessarily surprised to see arber trailing behind your brother on his way out.  

you looked at your hands, gripping the steering wheel.  had it always been so hard not to stare at his lips?  when had the spark in your stomach ignited into something devastating?

you were still staring straight ahead when his laugh cut through the air.  “what’re you doing out here, darling?” he asked, leaning on the side of the window.  “watching a compilation of my fighting majors?”

you shook your head, choked out a laugh, let yourself look at him in the eyes, finally.  it felt like water after a drought.  did you sigh in relief?

he smirked at your reaction, and you knew you were gone.  “i know you’re avoiding me,” he said.

“i’m not,” you protested.

he cut you off with a look.  “you are.  and i know why.”

“yeah?” you asked, moments of his arms around you and his lips, so close, flashing across your mind.

he nodded, leaning forward, straining his forearms.  “which is why you’re going to come to my home opener this weekend.”

you scoffed.  “i’m not going to that.”

he grinned, a real one full of teeth and joy.  you melted.  “you are,” he said.  “i have a ticket for you, and a jersey.  your bug has them both.”

incredulous, you shook your head, suddenly jittery.  “arber.”  this smile could have convinced you to do terrible, terrible things.  “i’m not doing this.”

but he just slapped the side of the car twice and began to pull back.  “i can’t force you to,” he said.  “but i want you there, darling.  i want you there, for me.”

you groaned as you put the car in drive.

“please?” he said, his tone telling you that he knew he was victorious.  

“i’m not,” you called out.

he only laughed as you drove away.

and just as he expected, you found yourself at the game, early enough to see warm ups, right by the glass.  every couple of minutes you would groan internally at yourself.  what did you think you were doing here?  in a jersey with his number on your back?  

you couldn’t just say yes to everything he asked because he had a pretty smile, and because he was just so big, and because making him laugh felt like a prize you were so determined to win.  or because of the heat that so frequently now seared across his eyes when he looked at you, or because his forearms were impossible to ignore when he rested them on the window of your car.

you were lost in thought when the team finally skated out onto the ice for warmups, but lucidity found you immediately, as he was better in real life than he was in your memories, in your imagination.

you watched with admiration as he skated and shot a couple pucks, swallowed when he stretched near center ice, your eyes never straying far from his number, not expecting him to acknowledge you at all.

but as the clock counted down, after one lap around their half, he stopped, faced away, before moving backwards and hitting his back into the glass, directly in front of you.  and he wasn’t even looking at you, but you knew he was there, and you knew he knew you were, too.

you didn’t know what to do, until you knew exactly what to do.

after a moment, you reached forward and gently slapped the glass twice, like he had done to your car so many times before.  you smiled to yourself as he immediately took off, moving full speed towards the bench and down the tunnel.

a ritual that you both understood, wordlessly and perfectly.

the seat that arber had reserved for you was not with the other guests of players.  instead, you found yourself sitting directly next to the penalty box.  you breathed out a laugh as you sat down.

the game was fun to watch.  arber was breathtaking.  his size, his speed, his brutal physicality, it was all on full display, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

especially late into the third period, when one of the wingers on the other team landed a nasty hit on one of arber’s teammates.  you had a feeling you knew what was coming, but you had never seen a fight in person, never mind seen this side of arber before.

as soon as his gloves came off, your breath caught.  the other guy didn’t stand a chance.  you squeezed your legs together as he threw a hook that upended both of their helmets, winced as the other skater landed a hard blow to his jaw, bit your lip as arber grabbed the winger’s jersey and threw him to the ice.

you exhaled a deep breath as the refs skated both players off into their boxes, your eyes trained on arber’s face as he ran a hand, cracked and bleeding, through his damp hair, then stepped into the box and sat down.  

you let your gaze drip over him like a melting popsicle.  it was some kind of cruel punishment to be so close to him, only separated by a pane of glass.  partially because he was in a sort of pain, that was obvious.  his chest was heaving, his lip was split, swollen, his jaw was already beginning to bruise. 

but the heat inside of you, now too powerful to ignore, that was a different urge entirely.  an urge to sit across his lap, only further tempting when he spread his knees wide, as he was doing now.  an urge to hold his face in your hands, to kiss away his pain, to give him something else to focus on, to make him focus on you.  

how badly you wanted him to be able to focus on nothing but you.

an urge to know what his lips felt like on yours, what his hands felt like around your neck, what he felt like inside of you, that was becoming the more pressing urge.  you crossed your legs tighter.

you should probably look back at the ice, at the game.  you wouldn’t want to give yourself away.

before you could turn away though, you noticed that his mouth was forming words, but he wasn’t talking to anyone.

and that smirk had only ever been just for you.

“you’re staring, darling,” he mouthed.

you flushed, turned away abruptly, didn’t need to see his cocky grin grow wider still.  

the game ended, and you still felt like you were on fire.  if you didn’t do something about it, would this torture last forever?  would you go forever wondering?  forever, wanting?

possible outcomes flashed across your mind.  but the longer you thought about it, the more your willpower dissolved into something else, something weaker, more forgiving, until you couldn’t quite remember why you had disliked him so much when you had first met him.  until any negative consequences seemed deliciously inconsequential.

so, when he came out down the tunnel, ready to go home, you were there, and his smile was a dream.  the smile of a person who knew they had won, finally and entirely.

“darling,” he greeted as he walked up.  “glad you came.”

you nodded.  “me too,” you said, stood in front of him, practically chest to chest, looking up at him, electricity humming between you.

“yeah?” he reached out, tilted your chin up further to search your gaze.  a pause filled with meaning settled.  “you have something you want to say?”  

you bit your lip, relished in the way his next breath came out shallow, nodded.

“tell me, darling.”  you couldn’t refuse him if you wanted to.

your exhale came out shaky.  “just want you so bad, arber,” you all but mumbled.  “can’t take it.”

his eyes flashed, dangerous.  one arm came around your back and tugged you closer.  “fuck, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he rasped.  “pretty girls like you never have to wait.”

you whimpered at the sensation of him pressed into your front, felt him hard against you.

“gonna give me a kiss?” he asked, rough and low, before you pushed yourself up on your toes to meet his lips, tender and bruised.  he moaned into your mouth at the only-just painful pressure, you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasped at the hair at the nape of his neck, the soft, damp, curls you had been dreaming about since you first saw him.

you whined as one of his hands squeezed a handful of your hip, felt that burning need only intensify.  he angled his hips so you could feel what you were doing to him, which only made you whimper.

“please, please,” you breathed, “i need to feel you, arber.  need you, now.”

he smiled into your mouth, and your lips would never be the same.  “oh, pretty baby, so needy, hm?”

you nodded, twisted his curls around your fingers, long past feeling embarrassed.  

his bandaged hand enveloped yours.  “come on, then,” he said, pulling you towards the exit, through the doors.  “fuck, don’t think i can wait, either.” 

you finally reached his car, parked far from the venue, far from any other car.  every second without kissing him was a second lacking.   he opened the car door, reached an arm underneath you, and picked you up, holding you against his front as he lowered you both into the backseat.  

you immediately buried your face into his neck, letting your lips leave your mark on him like he had more permanently, less physically done to you.  he groaned, tilted his hips up into you, gripped your hips and led you in a rhythm across his lap, the friction making you devastatingly impatient.

“‘m ready for you,” you mumbled into his neck, taking one of his hands from your hip and guiding it down so that he could feel you.

he moved your clothes aside, ran his thick fingers through your folds, making you gasp.  “so wet, darling,” he rasped, “what made you so needy, hm?”

he wrapped his other hand gently around your throat, squeezed only slightly, pulled you back to look at him, the gaze between you liquid metal. 

you whimpered, which made him increase the pressure around your neck, just a bit.  “i know you want to be good for me,” he rasped.  “so, tell me.”

“you did,” you breathed out.  “seeing you.”

“yeah?  pretty baby likes it when i fight, hm?”  he let go of your neck, tugged his own clothes aside to free his cock, groaned when you spit into your hands and immediately began to stroke him.

“not just the fight,” you said, “just you, arber.  fuck, you make me like this.”  he let out a sound like a growl, grew impossibly hard and thick at your words, at your hands.

“you make me crazy, darling,” he bit out as he reached an arm under you again to lift you up.  “have been since i first saw you.  ready?”

you answered him by sinking down onto him entirely, the stretch euphoric, both of your noises even more so.  you tilted your head back, mouth falling slack.

“hm, feel so perfect,” he rasped, pushed two fingers into your open mouth, groaned when you bit down on them gently.  “good girl, so perfect for me.”

you scrunched your eyes shut and focused on his fingers in your mouth as he began to thrust up into you, making that stretch feel even deeper, like he was becoming a part of you.  “so big,” you whined, the words distorted by his hand.  “don’t know if i can, arber.”

he didn’t stop, if anything thrust harder.  “you can, pretty baby,” he cooed.  “you’re gonna make me feel so good, yeah?”

and you couldn’t help but nod, overwhelmed with the desire to do just that, to be the person to do that.  you began to fuck back into him, brought your hips back to meet him thrust for thrust.

you whined as you clenched around him, wrapped a hand around his wrist and guided his hand from your mouth down to your clit.  he immediately began to tease you, adding to the sensation.

“hm, arber, you fuck me so good,” you said roughly, snaking a hand into his hair and raking your nails down his neck.  “fuck, so good.”

he gave a thrust that was slow, deliberate, making you feel him in your teeth.  “yeah, darling?  better than how you imagined?”

you nodded before you knew what you were confessing to, couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his smirk told you that you had been found out.  you just lowered your mouth to his shoulder and bit into it to muffle your moans.  he hissed.

“‘s okay,” he said, his thrusts speeding up, his motions on your clit drawing you closer.  “you’re better than i imagined, too.”

you clenched around him at his words, felt yourself flush, grow so dangerously close.  

he moaned into your hair.  “fuck, darling, look so fucking pretty like this.”  he took his other hand from your hip to your stomach, placing pressure there so you felt him even deeper.  you winced, just there, your rhythm on top of him faltering.  “be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”

you collapsed into his chest as you reached an angelic high, gushing around him and pushing him to his own orgasm, his moan a desperate rasp as he stilled inside of you.  his breathing was hard and hot as you caught your own breath, fisting his shirt in one of your hands as the other rested around his neck.  

he brought one arm around your back, held you to him as the other grasped the back of your neck and snaked into your hair.  the windows of the car had fogged up like a rainy day, and both of your faces were rosy with exertion and satisfaction.

you hummed as he rubbed circled into your lower neck with his thumb.  

“like my number on you,” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence that could have been a decade.

“me too,” you agreed, a small smile playing across your mouth.  “like you on me.”

“yeah?” he asked, a lazy grin on his swollen lips.  “me too.”

and you let out a sigh, so content.  and he kissed the top of your head.  and both of you would have been happy to stay here forever, watching the fog drip from the windows like thinning honey.

fin.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

The funniest thing about the Trine series is that it’s slightly implied that Blue Jone is always just wearing the little dress robe and little to nothing else. Because I can just see one of the housekeepers coming up to us or Anselm saying “I get that you find him attractive like that, but can you please tell him to put some fucking pants on?”

I AM ABSOLUTELY WHEEZING!

Anselm Vogelweide x Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •  Masterlist•  ao3• want to be tagged? | request info •

•Trine Masterlist•

Summary: Anselm is told an honest truth.

Warnings: references to sexual activities, swearing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 700

It was no secret that Mary was Anselm’s favourite employee. She had been working for him for nearly 18 years and was one of the very few people whose opinion he held in high regard no matter the subject. 

So when she approached him in the billard’s room (which had been sans billiards for some years, yet still kept the name), he had been more than happy to drop what he was doing to speak with her. 

“Mr Vogelweide,” she started with an intake of breath.

“Oh, my dear Mary,” He puts his hands on her shoulders,” this simply must be something serious, because not only have you called me by my family name, but that distressed sigh right after,” he smiles and shakes his head. “Are you handing in your notice?” He pauses a little sadly, “Because I wish you no ill will if you are.” “No, Anselm,” Mary stresses his name and puts a hand over his. “This is about Mr Jones.”

Anselm’s expression falls immediately, a stern look clouding over his eyes. “What has he done? Has he been rude to you? I’ll-”

“No, no, no,” She holds her hands up quickly, “Nothing of the sort, he’s been very polite, very much the gentleman with all my staff.” 

Anselm nods, calming a little.

“This issue is more of a… personal nature. You see… some of my staff,” Anselm opens his mouth to interrupt and Mary gives him a look, “No, I will not tell you who, I’m not having you have a tantrum for no reason.” 

He closes his mouth and smiles broadly. 

She nods when she’s satisfied. “Mr Jones does have a… predisposition for a certain type of attire.”

“A certain type of attire?” Anselm grins.

“Or lack thereof,” Mary smiles back, “Just those silk robes I know you and Mrs Vogelweide gift him with.”

“Oh, I shall have to tell my love that she is in your poor graces as well, calling her Mrs Vogelweide.” Anselm puts a hand on his forehead dramatically and Mary tuts. 

“This is a formal conversation, so I am speaking formally, you know as well as I that I prefer her over you.” 

Anselm beams happily and nods. 

“Now, if we side step your silliness. The point of the matter is Mr Jones wearing those robes, that are, to put it politely, extremely short with nothing else underneath.” 

He nods, waiting for her to continue. 

“I know you both find him very attractive-”

“Do you not, Mary?” 

“You are not too old for a time out, Anselm.” 

“That sounds divine, my dear.” 

Mary tuts, scolding him softly. “I need to prep the staff to expect a practically naked man around the estate.” 

Anselm nods. “You want me to get him to cover up?” 

“I want you to let the staff know if he’ll be in a constant state of undress. Remember the phase you went through, oh 15 years ago? The orgeies almost every night and day, such a mess. But, we knew what was planned, and no one minded or cared, because they knew what to expect. And staff that didn’t feel comfortable, well, there weren’t any because why would they work here if they were? But if they had been, they would have been put on other duties.” 

Anselm nods again, “Concent.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Hmm, I do apologise for this foresight.”

“It’s not a problem.” 

“I will make sure the serving staff all get a bonus this month for the trouble.” 

Mary smiles, “That’s very kind of you.” 

“But tell me…” Anselm pauses, “Why didn’t you approach my wife first? I know you wouldn’t have had to deal with my teasing for that conversation.”

“Oh,” she chuckles, “Well, you see I did.”

Anselm quirks his eyebrow in interest.

“She asked me to ask you while she watches from outside the door,” Mary points to the slightly ajar door behind him. “She wanted to see if your answer was to her satisfaction.” 

“And if it isn’t?” 

You let the door open a little dramatically, smiling when your husband turns to look at you. “Punishment, of course, darling.” 

“Oh,” Anselm runs his hand over his beard, his eyes bright. “How delightful.” 

Thank you for reading!

[cryptid-killjoy]

Seven knew Piper was one of the special ones. No matter how many paramours Pierre went through he could tell Piper was different to him, just like he and Zero were different to him. Seven never was about calling anyone the one or putting people in some ranked order. What he knew was what he saw. Piper meant something to Pierre. He and Zero were his best bros for a reason and that was that, just like Brigette had a way of being special to them all too when she was alive. There were just some people that stood out.

Zero was feeling that kind of special right then. When Pierre said he'd be sandwiched soon it was all he could to do hold back from howling as he gave a little yes jump in his stride as they walked. Memories filled his mind of lazy days in bed, the smell of weed in the air mixed with Seven and Pierre's cologne totally spent. The tv would be on and nobody would be paying attention it all hands on him petting him in the afters. The two best friends he ever a guy could ever want. He stood there with a dreamy face for quite a while after that. Those were the days.

Piper laughed out right. "Okay. Yes. I missed the mane." She even reached up to run her hands through both sides. She couldn't quit smiling either.

Clotho, the blonde had a way of being pulled in the most by the beautiful compliment. They were nothing less than the Sanderson Sisters by comparison. There was no black flame candle needed, but they were the sort to do what needed to be done when their age was showing. It was probably noted over the years of knowing Seven that they might look more washed out at times, even grey, and then show up rather revived and youthful again the next time. But it was Clotho who held youth dearest to her heart.

"I'm feeling rather ravishing, thank you. You always were a favorite friend of Seven's to me." Oh yes, she'd return the compliment in the most self-indulgent way. "You were a boy that always noticed, but how could you not?" Oh yeah, she was feeling good tonight. "We'll all be glad to have you back, my boy."

Piper, who did not know the Fate sisters until recently could only marvel at the interaction and think it made sense now why Seven was the way he was surrounded by such personalities. She never once imagined people might look at her and dissect Kuzco and Clopin and think all her mysteries were unlocked.

Everything was explained to Pierre and despite it appearing as if it might have rattled him that Seven was going first, everyone held strong.

This was it.

The moments ticked and the moments tocked after Piper and Seven disappeared into the magic of the string.

Zero continued to shift involuntarily in his nervousness. So, Pierre would keep feeling the change of a full body to the wisp of cold holding onto him. No matter the form Zero didn't let go. Pierre was his grounding stone. It was anxiousness, but it was also excitement. The longer it took the antsier he got and it was harder to hold still. Zero's energy was amped to a wattage he could barely contain making his hips shake. All the things he kept inside that were pent up as he held onto Pierre's side just burst out of his mouth in one big roll like periods were never invented for sentences much less breaths.

"I'm-sorry I never visited you on the other side even though I could I really wanted to sometimes I just couldn't do it again I just couldn't do it not again I've done it before searching and searching for a lost friend and I guess they didn't want to be found because I never found them and I couldn't feel that way again I just couldn't I couldn't feel like I wasn't wanted again I was scared I was just fucking scared not of the other side just of that feeling I feel it so much and I just really want to be sandwiched okay?"

His way of saying he used to feel wanted when Pierre and Seven were alive. Being a loyal as a dog best friend is hard when he's been the dog people left in the woods like they were going for a walk together but ran not realizing he was being ghosted, pun intended.

Then right when he got his final words out and as he was searching Pierre's face for a reaction and finally taking a big breath Seven and Piper reappeared.

Zero's eyes turned first. A smile started to grow. He turned completely tangible.

Seven stood there with that oh so Seven smile.

"Oh that was fun, mates."

He kept moving his hands and his fingers trying to feel the difference than before. Zero ran for him. Everyone was hugging him. His mothers were in the way. It left Zero bouncing on the outside until Seven pulled him.

Piper shook her head at all of it.

"We don't have time for this. Come on Pierre. Your turn. Welcome homes later. We're on a clock." Then she put out her hand.

Seven heard that and went, "Go, go, go!"

Seven's mothers were quick to get on their duty pulling a cut and very dead looking string along with a live string as the crunch for time set in. Piper would grab his hand. The same procedures would run with the twist of the hourglass.

Then the next thing Pierre would know he'd see himself and Piper before them through the view of a cracked door.

In a bath.

Intimate.

Music was coming from another source outside of that room. Violins.

The Piper that was still holding his hand pulled down fast to hide. "Shh." She clued him in quick to be quiet as they stayed hunkered down behind the crack of a closet door. They were in some sort of castle interior. A roaring fire was crackling. She whispered quite soft, "We don't want to be seen." Still, she couldn't help but smile. "Guess we're attracted to one another in every universe."

Turning an hourglass was never an exact science in comparison to a clock. She was close. She'd been here so many times to practice. She knew there was a little time to pass before their big moment. Time to tell Pierre the plan.

"We have to wait for just the right moment. We're going to live body snatch and leave your dead body in this time just seconds before the moment of your death here, so it doesn't disrupt much of the timeline. We steal it while it's still alive. They were about to be dead here anyway. Your job is to possess it when I say. It will leave your tangible earth walking Halloween body here. Then you come home with your own body. For now, we wait."

It was the same instructions she gave to Seven. He'd stolen another body from another timeline and left his tangible Halloween body in its stead. When the night ended there and it decayed faster than normal or disappeared it might seem a mystery to those left behind, but the people themselves were going to be dead anyway. If she pulled a person from their death and switched them out the Fates already knew they were able to step into a new universe and continue to thrive. These were magics that skirted darker ethics Piper had been learning from the Fates in secrecy because secrecy was part of the vow she took to be able to learn them. It was very Geppeto and Willem when it came to respect of their darker arts.

She'd look back at the pair in the water and smirk. Then she'd look at her deceased friend beside her. "Self porn. Who knew you could watch it live?"

“Real sex, real sex, real sex,” Pierre started up a little chant, pumping his hand up in the air like he was some sort of ringmaster in a circus. That’s one of the things that he missed the most, and he wasn’t ashamed to say it.

“Man, I miss that girl,” He said, knowing that he had fucked it up with her forever that day that the Laveaus had stormed upon his house. That’s what it had felt like. An assault. A complete siege, with his mother and sister saying that they were leaving, packing their things, and his father just being an asshole and nodding, letting it happen. Though he did regret how it went down, he didn’t regret being the only one that was fighting for his family to stay together. Big lot of good that did. There was no family anymore.

He’d caught sight of her for a moment at the ball, but hadn’t dared approach, not that he had the time. Piper had been the one to claim all of it, and then gave him strict orders to meet her by the tree, which he was following, though perhaps a little more leisurely than she might have liked.

He moved up behind Zero, and put his hands on his hips, dancing his fingers over the jutting hipbones. He always was a skinny little guy. The picture-perfect definition of a twink. “Of course, pup. You’re going to be sandwiched in no time,” He promised.

He only let go of his boys when Piper took over his attention again. She had a way of doing that, of drawing all eyes to her. Like the rest of the world could be entirely blocked out, he was scoped right in. He wrapped his arms around her, thin waist and all, as she seemed to groom him, making him chuckle. “You missed the mane, didn’t you?” He teased lightly, holding her closer, nuzzling his nose against her cheek and kissing it.

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” He said, eagerly, his dark eyes looking into her bright violet. The most beautiful eyes that he had ever seen, he would attest to that. No other ones had ever compared to the shocking color, made all the more bright and beautiful in contrast with her skin tone, and the naturally dark lashes that she had.

He looked over her shoulder at Seven who was getting all of the hugs from his mothers, and he chuckled, pulling back a little from Piper but he kept his arm around her, like he was scared of disappearing again. Which he was. Another year of waiting for this kind of communication, for this kind of chance? It would feel like an eon down there.

“Ahh, you know,” He laughed, keeping it casual with Seven’s moms. “The humidity isn’t great for the hair but I can’t say I ever got bored. Good to see you three ladies, looking as beautiful and youthful as ever.”

The moms huddled and Pierre looked back down towards Piper. “So you really figured out a way to bring us back? You’re … incredible,” He said, breathing heavily. Of course it was Piper. And he was confident enough in himself to believe that he was her first choice to do this with. But it still blew his mind that all of this was happening, and so fast.

He listened to the instructions and he felt a little nervous too that Seven was going to be going first. What if something went wrong? What if they couldn’t do it, and Pierre would have to return to Hell alone because Seven was put into some sort of limbo? He had to breathe again and he nodded towards his friend, his Hell-mate. “You got this, dude. And of course, Piper and Pierre, we can do anything.”

He nodded towards Piper though, understanding. Wait your turn. He wasn’t generally good at that but he could wait in this circumstance. “I’ll be good and patient, don’t worry,” He said, putting on his most charming grin.

He was reluctant to let Piper go too, though it was to help Seven. He’d keep a hand on her, squeezing hers, and then lightly touching her fingertips with his own until she was too far away to do so. Was he braver than before like the women were hinting? In some ways, perhaps. Time would tell. He may still do a Scooby-Doo jump into whoever was closest if there was ever a jumpscare, or seeing one of the fates with their hair in rollers and a green facemask. But he was going through with this, which was much scarier.

“I’ll be here,” He said, again. When Zero came to take Piper’s place, he put his arm around Zero’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. He kept it stiff, for when Zero went into his ghostly form, letting it hang on the air, until he became a little more corporeal again.

Pierre wasn’t changing his mind. No - he was watching intently, with wide eyes, one arm still out and the other going through his hair, like a comforting habit, pushing it up and out of his face.

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Scars- Matt, Kelly, Jay

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions thoughts of self harm, self harm scars, use of guns

Summary: After a rough call, you spiral back into the past. Your boys won’t let you stay there for long.

Authors note: A user asked me for this one a bit ago. It was a tough one for me to write, but I hope it helps someone. {You know who you are and I hope this is what you were looking for❤️}

If you or a loved one has a mental health crisis, PLEASE reach out. Resources can be found online, depending on country, but your friends and family want to help you too.

YOU ARE LOVED AND YOU ARE WANTED. ❤️

>>>>>

You’ve known Jay for most of your life. You ran to each other for comfort when it all became too much with your families. Neither of you had great dads, which pushed you both to find solace in one another. You kept a secret from him all those years in hopes of avoiding the anger and pity that would come to his eyes. You wanted to protect him from yourself in some ways, and you still do.

It has been a rough day. You and Jay had taken fire on a call, nearly missing both of you. You had covered the daughter when she ran out from behind the car to run to somewhere she felt less exposed, but you weren’t quick enough to keep her completely out of harms way. She got shot in the shoulder and screamed as Jay held down the father until help arrived. Jay’s mind was on you as he put all of his weight into the girl’s father while returning fire to cover you both as you dragged the screaming teen behind a house not far from where she went down.

Once the team landed with some additional patrol officers, Jay let go of the father to grab the med kit you made sure to keep stocked in the back of his truck. He could hear the father screaming at you, even over the gun fire, before he made it over. He noticed how you shakily pulled the girl’s shirt apart to expose the wound on her shoulder, flinching ever time the father screamed louder in your ear, but he had no time to comfort you or lay into the father as the gunfire ceased and Kevin came to hold the dad back while you and Jay tended to the girl. Jay had all his focus on holding her down as he spoke into his radio, asking for an ambo while you did your best to slow the bleed.

The rest of the day was a blur. You rode back to the precinct in silence, pretending to be asleep when Jay looked over at you to start the conversation. You dodged everyone and left as soon as Voight gave the order to go home for the night. You had driven separately that morning, and Jay had to stop at the store to get supplies for dinner, so Jay let it be for now. He knew you’d probably respond better in your own home with all three of them with you anyways.

When Jay walked through the door, arms filled with groceries, he was surprised that the house was mostly quiet. He could hear the tv on in the living room, playing a baseball game, which meant that Kelly and Matt were most likely on the couch. You, however, don’t really enjoy baseball and they never really watch it around you, immediately after work, so that you all can relax together. Curious as to where you could be, given that you left before him and should have gotten home 30 minutes ago, Jay hurriedly dropped the bags in the kitchen before making his way into the living room.

“Hey guys.” Jay smiled, gong to kiss Matt and Kelly gently. He was right. You weren’t in here. “Where’s Y/n?” He asked, trying to be nonchalant even though he felt like something was wrong.

Matt pointed over his shoulder toward the master bedroom. “She said she wanted a shower, but needed to be alone. We figured we could catch a bit of the game while we waited on you.” Matt explained, sipping the beer that was in his hand.

Jay nodded as Kelly spoke. “She didn’t seem ready to talk.”

Jay shrugged. “Yeah. She’s been like this since a call we had midday. I figured she would feel more comfortable with all of us.” Jay explained, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t like this. He had this nagging feeling that something was wrong, just like when you were kids and you met him at your secret spot on bad nights. The lightbulb clicked as Jay heard the master bathroom door open. “Oh. She’s got PTSD.” Jay mumbled, mostly to himself, but he knew the other two heard when they straightened up and put their beers down.

“She what?” They both said, immediately leaning forward to stand.

Jay placed his hand out, signaling them to stay where they were. “Hang on. Just…” Jay took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought through what he was taught in therapy about PTSD. “Let me go talk to her a second and check on her.” He said, quietly, immediately turning to head into the master bathroom. Jay heard the other boys sigh, but they thankfully stayed put as Jay made his way into the bedroom. He quietly knocked on the door to let you know he was there before slowly going to sit on the bed. You still had the towel wrapped tightly around you as you leaned your forehead against the closet door. “Hey baby.” Jay whispered, not moving from his spot on the bed.

You barely lifted your head as sobs shook your shoulders. You heard him and you knew he was there, but you were scared. Scared of yourself, scared of your feelings, scared that they would see you differently. “P-please Jay. I- just d-don’t.” You whispered, swiping at your cheeks to get rid of the tears.

Jay sighed. “Baby girl. Talk to me.” Jay began to beg. “Tell me how to help you.” Jay said. He allowed his eyes to roam your body as you kept pulling the towel lower over your thighs. He spotted angry, red skin and immediately stood. “Baby. What happened to your thigh?” Jay asked, watching as you tensed.

“N-nothing. M fine.” You mumbled, turning and walking into the closet. You have been living with the boys for 5 months now. You have yet to share your scars. When you changed clothes, it wasn’t noticeable. Normally, you had to look close at your skin because of their placement. You’ve always insisted that it was dark when you made love, so they still have yet to see anything.

Jay shook his head as it all clicked into place. “Baby.” He whispered, slowly approaching you.

You knew he figured it out. Jay wasn’t dumb. “I I didn’t! I just..” your breathing picked up as you stepped back from Jay as he came closer.

Jay made sure to soften his face, making every emotion go to the back of his mind to leave only care and love. “I’m not mad. I promise. Just let me see, hmm?” Jay said, standing a few feet away from you.

You nodded, face to the ceiling as Jay knelt down to peak under the towel. With how red your skin was from where you obviously scratched at your scars, they popped through. He never would have noticed given the placement. He could tell you had thought this through. Carefully, Jay leaned forward to kiss your thigh before standing up.

“Get dressed and meet us in the living room. Okay?” Jay said, leaning in to hand you one of Kelly’s shirts before walking out of the room. Making his way into the living room, he was met with the anxious faces of his other two lovers.

“Is she okay?” Matt asked, drawing Kelly’s attention to Jay.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck. “Debatable. She’s getting dressed.” Jay answered. “There is something we need to talk about.” Jay said, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. “I need you both to let me lead this conversation. I don’t want her to shut down.” Jay explained. They barely had time to nod before you shyly rounded the door.

You spot them all in the living room and fought the urge to run, but Jay’s soft eyes beaconed you forward. You took the seat at the far end of the couch and curled into yourself, hiding the irritation on your thigh from the other two. “Can you?” You whispered, the question directed at Jay.

He nodded, turning to your other two lovers. “Like I mentioned earlier, I believe Y/n has PTSD. We can talk reasons why and all that when she’s ready. However, today triggered something and I just found out about her having some self harm scars.” Jay said, hands clasped between his legs.

Both Matt and Kelly’s heads snapped up to look at Jay before turning their attention toward you as you muffled a sob behind your legs.

“She didn’t.” Jay added, one hand on each boy. “However, I believe she wanted to. She scratched the scars pretty bad.” Jay muttered, looking down to avoid putting more eyes on you.

Kelly breathed deeply as Matt moved toward you. “Baby girl. Come here.” Matt whispered, pulling you into his lap. You let out a wail as your face turned into his neck. “Shhhh. It’s okay. We aren’t mad. It’s okay.” Matt shushed, kissing the top of your head as Jay took the space you were just sitting in and Kelly moved closer.

Kelly carefully examined your thigh, not daring to touch the irritated skin without your permission. The skin was red and blotchy. Dark red dots danced under the skin from how irritated it was. Kelly didn’t know how to respond, so he gently laid a hand on your back and looked to Jay.

Kelly and Jay were silent for a few moments as Matt shushed you. They didn’t want to overwhelm you, but they knew they’d have to calm you down soon. You were on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Sweetheart. We aren’t mad. We promise.” Matt said, kissing the top of your head. “Shhh. Breathe. Breathe baby.” Matt whispered, pulling back slightly to look at your face. He didn’t like what he saw. It broke his heart in two. So, he turned to Kelly and allowed the other man to see your red cheeks and slightly blue lips.

Kelly nodded and took over, carefully helping Matt turn you to face him. “Hey you. Look at me.” Kelly whispered, hands lightly cupping your cheeks. “Look at my eyes. Breathe.” Kelly said, taking a deep breath for you to follow.

You shook your head. “I-I can’t.” You gasped, hands coming up to clutch Kelly’s wrist as Jay stood and sat on the coffee table once again.

“Yes you can. Here. Hold my hand.” Jay said, leaning over and holding his hand out to you. He used to do this for you as kids. When you took it, he gently smiled and lightly squeezed. “There we go. That’s my girl.” Jay whispered. “Now, Matt is going to help you lean forward, okay? He’s going to support your back while Kelly holds the back of your neck down a bit. We just need your head between your knees. Can we do that?” Jay asked, walking through what he needed from everyone so that you wouldn’t be caught off guard.

You nodded your head and the boys went to work. Jay placed his free hand on your chest so that you wouldn’t feel like you were falling off of Matt’s lap. The only good part about you during panic attacks is that you prefer to be touched. You need the contact to help bring you back down to earth. You stayed like that a while. Matt’s hand rubbing up and down your spine, Kelly’s hand gently holding the back of your neck while he lightly drew circles with his thumb, and Jay holding your hand and pressing his other to your chest. Once you slowed down enough, Jay nodded at the other two and helped Matt pull you back up and into Matt’s chest. You were exhausted. Basically dead weight in his arms.

“I thought about it.” You whispered after a few minutes, startling everyone out of their own thoughts.

Jay nodded, expecting this. “Is that why you were so upset?” Jay asked, wanting to know what to watch out for if this ever came up again.

You nodded, lightly rubbing over your still irritated scars. Kelly stopped you with a gentle hand. He removed your hand before leaning down to kiss your scars.

“Listen. I can’t pretend to know what you went through.” Kelly started, glancing at Jay to make sure he wasn’t going to make this worse, but he saw no sign that he was going in the wrong direction. “But we have you now. Those scars are battle wounds. Maybe not like the ones that everyone thinks about, but the ones that show how hard you fought through life to get to us.” Kelly said, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“As long as you have us, you won’t get any more scars like that.” Matt said, leaning forward to kiss the side of your head. “We love you with them. That’s a given. Just know that you don’t have to do that anymore.” Matt added. Rubbing your back.

“You just have to tell us.” Jay said. “I know it’s hard. It can feel scary, but we love you. We don’t want you to think you can’t tell us anything. We won’t judge you.” Jay said, looking for your eyes. Once you locked into him, he smiled. “We love you, scars and all. We want to hear everything. Know everything. Cry with you. Laugh with you. We want it all, but you have to open up and tell us, yeah?” Jay asked, nudging you gently.

“Yeah.” You whispered, playing with Jay’s fingers as you kept a grip on his hand. “The dad. He was yelling and it reminded me of y/d/n.” You said, lip quivering. “It was like I was there all over again and I couldn’t get the memories to go away. It started eating me alive all over again.” You said, looking down and shaking your head as tears streamed down your face.

They all sighed, feeling your pain.

“We know about bad dads baby girl.” Kelly said, pulling your face up to look in your eyes. “We can’t pretend we know what happened with yours, but we can say that we will never let that happen again. You are safe with us.” Kelly reminded, smiling gently.

“We love you and respect the hell out of you.” Matt said, eyes watering. “Just let us in. Let us protect you. Even if it’s from yourself sometimes.” Matt said, smiling and leaning in to kiss the side of your head when you nodded.

“Okay sweet girl.” Jay whispered, standing up. “I need to go make dinner because you need to eat.” Jay said, leaning down to capture your lips with his. “Why don’t you relax here with our boys and rest for a bit, yeah?” Jay said, standing back up to his full height and looking for approval from you. When you nodded, Jay smiled and turned to go back to the kitchen. He knew you would be okay. You had all three of your boys.

>>>>>

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

@mrspeacem1nusone

@wh0reforsmutstuff

@geekgirl1996

@emilyprentisswife

[nethhiri]

Chapter 60: 2 Eyes, 2 Furious

Sorry this took so long, everyone! I've been incredibly busy at work and have a lot of presentations coming up, so it may be slow for a while. Thank you so much for sticking around and being patient <3

Warnings: Sexual violence, torture, gore, body horror

The second you got your full vision back, you knew exactly what you wanted to do. It was exactly what you promised to do. Warthin was waiting for you with bated breath in the brig and you didn't want to keep him waiting much longer. You wouldn't want him to forget how much he should fear you. Kid was reluctant to release you, finally fully absolved of his asshole crimes. You could tell he really wanted you all to himself after being shut out of your company for a while. You had missed him, too, as much as he angered you. While you enjoyed being alone in the dungeon, free to do whatever fucked up thing your heart desired without judgement, it did get lonely. And you did want some recognition for your excellent torturing skills. 

"Captain?"

"Yes, doll?"

"Would you like to come downstairs with me?" 

"I thought ya'd never ask." Kid grinned and set you down on the deck. "Meet ya in five minutes."

You continued to the brig without him, wide smile creeping across your face. It was going to feel so good to watch those fucks squirm with both of your eyes. You kicked open the door to the brig, sauntering in with wicked thoughts brimming from your mind. You paced back and forth waiting for Kid, grabbing a cat o' nine tails off the wall. You may as well warm up while you waited. Warthin was still on his hands and knees in the position you had left him in. His back was a canvas begging to be painted red. Some days, you thought about trying to erase the memories of your captivity. If you did that, however, you wouldn't have the fuel to dole out the retribution these people deserved. 

"None of you noticed my new eye. I'm offended." You slapped the handle of the nine tails in the palm of your hand. "Today, I thought we could start with some light whipping, then move on to couple's therapy, then finish up with group brutality. Any thoughts, questions, concerns? No? Good."

For the better part of a  half-hour, you introduced the cat o' nine tails to Warthin's back, admiring the criss-crossed welts and lacerations that bloomed across his skin. Where the fuck is he? Kid was sure taking his time. Maybe he had gotten called away to take care of something. They had been talking about some abandoned island they'd heard about recently. It was probably something about that. Warthin's whimpering and sobbing brought overcame your thoughts. With one last, hard, lash, you left him to leak tears and blood onto the floor. The precious few marines you had left were very nearly broken. Their faces were fully drenched in dread and dripping with misery. Only the tiniest glimmer remained in their eyes, and you would make sure it was snuffed out.  

You put your full body into their flogging. The sharp points on each end of the whips were invisible as they whipped through the air and the fleshy, wet impact was satisfying to your ears, though you wish you could hear more of it through their complaining. By the time you were out of breath, Kid still wasn't there and you felt like that was enough of a warm up. It was fine to switch your schedule around. You paced the wall of prisoners, sticking your fingers into their wounds while you thought about how you were going to do this. Warthin was in perfection position already. As promised, everything they did to you was going to be done to them.

"I hope you've all decided to cooperate." You bent down and jerked Warthin's head back by his hair, hissing in his face. "Aren't you excited? What's wrong?"

"P-please. Don't do this. Kill me fifty, no, one thousand more times but d-don't do this."

"I'm confused. You seemed to love it a few weeks ago." When he didn't reply, you continued, "Oh! I get it! You don't like being on the receiving end. Hold on. Let me check to something." You addressed the marines strung up on the wall, pointing at them as you spoke. "Remember when I said you needed to choose to fuck him or get fucked? Did anyone choose to get fucked? No?" You turned attention back to Warthin. "Yeah... unfortunately it seems like that's too fucking bad." You slapped him on the cheek and grinned. "I don't enjoy doing this, so you know. But I will enjoy your suffering." 

The marine that seemed to have something against Warthin would be first. You took him from the wall and shackled him behind Warthin, with room to move. The one that won your little race went in front. The last remaining marine had a very special job. You had pruning shears for him to use later. They were a little rusty, probably not sharp, and had dried blood in the crevices. Warthin could dish it out but he couldn't take it. Suddenly, his manhood left his body and turned him into a sniveling bitch. So he would be taken like a bitch and you would have his manhood permanently removed. 

"I want him in tears." You gestured for them to begin.

When you said you didn't enjoy doing this, it was the truth. It made you feel like a hypocrite in some respects. You were true to your word, however, and stuck to your "eye for an eye" ideology. Warthin deserved to feel everything that you had gone through. Maybe he would feel even a sliver of remorse for everything he had done if he knew how much pain it caused firsthand. Judging from his screams, he was learning. Soon, even his screams were muffled and occasional gagging replaced them. 

It took them a minute to get started. Something about raping their superior had them shy. Funny, it didn't seem to stop them when it was you. A little persuasion helped them get into the mood, that and you manipulating them with your devil fruit. They would probably last a few hours, again thanks to your devil fruit. While they weren't grateful in the beginning for that, they were after you told them the first one to finish would win a unique prize. They knew by now that your promises were never good. Honestly, you got bored pretty quickly since you weren't the one directly inflicting pain. 

"Tell me where to find Von Kossa and I'll make it stop," you addressed Warthin.

He didn't have an answer for you.

"Every time you refuse to answer, I'll make his dick bigger and your asshole smaller. So tell me what I want to know."

Warthin was struggling to stay conscious, or more likely, trying to retreat into the recesses of his mind. Something you were quite familiar with, thanks to him. 

"Where is he?"

He was still present, but gave no answer. 

You followed through with your threat, causing the marine fucking his ass to wince and a despair-filled wail to come from Warthin. "Tell me," you commanded him. 

This went on a few more times before he crumbled. He started to say something, but there was a cock in the way, so you paused the mouth fucker and allowed Warthin to speak.

"I d-don't know where..." He paused to retch. "...he is." He saw the displeasure cross your face. "BUT! Hang on!" He weakly held his hand out in the universal gesture to stop. "Your ship. I can t-tell you where it is." 

"Go on."

"Gomori Island."

"Okay." You clapped your hands. "Continue."

"BUT I TOLD YOU SOMETHING."

"And? That's not what I asked for, is it?" 

"B-but it's your ship!"

There was still a part of you that longed for your ship deep down. "This is my ship." Not literally of course, but this was your home now. "Anyway, continue."

"NO! N-." He was cut off by the resumed throat fucking.

That pissed you off. Your arms were folded and the more you thought about it, the harder your hands clenched into fists. Warthin thought he could buy you. He thought he was still in control of what was happening here. You walked closer to him and healed his back, leaving only fresh, unmarred skin. Other torturers probably wouldn't have the balls to put a blade in the hand of a prisoner. But you weren't like other torturers, nor were you ignorant enough to let a prisoner get the upper hand. You gave a small knife to the butt-fucking marine and pushed the face-fucking one away. The, you kicked Warthin in the head as hard as you could. You really wanted to bludgeon him to death at the moment. You settled for one solid kick.

"You must think I'm stupid," You sneered. "I always get what I want and you don't get to compromise with me. So tell me where Von Kossa is or keep your worthless mouth shut." 

A bright red and purple bruise bloomed on the side of his face and one of his eyes had blood leaking into the whites. The bones of his cheek and eye socket were collapsed, deforming his face. 

"You're going to write me an apology, and since you're otherwise occupied, Lieutenant Buttfuck over here is going to write it down for you. Start telling him what to write." You motioned to the knife and Warthin's back. "You, write. And don't stop fucking him."

Between the kick in the head and his asshole ripping, Warthin could barely focus on thinking of an apology. Several times he had to restart because his buddy's handwriting wasn't legible. It ends up taking quite a long time. At least this was less boring than before, and maybe now you would have something worth mailing to the marines. Something like this might force Von Kossa out since it was essentially a written confession implicating him. Would it be like kicking a bee's nest to taunt the marines this way? Probably, but the idea brought a smile to your face. If they didn't already know you were alive, they would. 

While they were busy doing that, you didn't want the other two to miss out on any fun. That wouldn't be fair. You wished Kid would show his face. It was tiring having to torture four people simultaneously by yourself. You really were an artist, a director. A director of the most gruesome play on a private stage. The other two, you decided, would be sewn together in a sort of ouroboros sixty-nining situation, constantly choking and gagging but unable to pull away. They rolled around on the floor, desperate to find a position that offered any relief. You had to stomp them or kick them away a few times when they almost interrupted your other venture. When your written apology was finished, you kicked your prisoner away from Warthin, dick popping out of Warthin's ass with a wet popping sound. With a wave of your hand you incapacitated him with the exception of his arm and his cock. 

"Cut your cock off. You don't need it anymore."

He hesitated, eyes wide. 

"Cut it off or I'll make it explode. No. I'll make it implode. That's right. Implode." You didn't actually know what that entailed. Something like the penis involuting back inside his body or folding in on itself you imagined.

He started sawing the thing off immediately, which was taking much longer than expected since all the letter carving dulled the blade. You were impressed that he held in his screams even a little bit. Not long after, he was spitting and screaming and wailing, cursing your name. While your wards were busy, you started meticulously skinning Warthin's back. If you could dry and tan the skin properly, it would look sick. You couldn't very well send it fresh or the rot would mess the words up. 

Engrossed in your detailed work, you almost didn't see the door open. Kid stood in the doorway, taking in your activities. His expression ranged from shock to bewilderment to acceptance, all in swift succession.

"Where the fuck have ya been?"

"I was about to say the same thing!"

"Was waitin for ya in my cabin."

"I said- oh you thought downstairs meant-" You rolled your eyes. "You were waiting this whole time? It's been hours."

Kid scoffed. "I only waited like twenty minutes."

"So what were you doing the rest of the time?"

"Jerking off? Duh."

"It's been hours."

"I was edging in case ya showed up."

"There's something wrong with you."

Kid looked pointedly at what you were doing.

"What? This is my craft." 

"Jerking off is my craft." Kid noticed the two guys still struggling on the floor. "Nice."

This perked you up. "Do you like it?"

"Ya know I like when ya do fucked up shit." Kid's eyes drifted among your victims. "Damn, did ya leave anything for me?"

You freed the two marines who were attached mouth-to-dick with your fruit, separating them. They were in mostly good shape. "I thought we could try something new." 

"Oh fuck yeah! Like pegging?" 

"New torture. Torture." 

"So is that a firm no?"

You stared incredulously at him. "Do you think you could focus?"

"Whatever, doll." Kid huffed, coming over to pat your head. "What does yer little heart desire?"

You were finishing up removing the skin from Warthin's back. "Remember a while back, when I suggested that you could probably control blood?"

"Aye, that was right before we-"

"Yes. Right before that." You cut him off, not really wanting to share any of those details with the ears of prisoners. 

Kid's wide grin flashed. "I've been curious about that myself."

After you hung Warthin's skin up to dry, Kid and yourself put the prisoners back on the wall. You grabbed the dismembered... member, and shoved it into its owners mouth, not with your bare hand, of course. Then you gagged him, hoping he would slowly choke to death. You didn't forget to take the knife away from him either. Kid was exceedingly rough when he put Warthin back into the wall shackles, making sure his raw back was touching the rough wall as much as possible, and stretching his joints to their limits. Actually, you were certain his shoulders were dislocated. They were all screaming, yet you could mostly tune it out since you were so used to it. 

Starting simple, you put a small cut in one of the marines. The blood trickled out slowly. Kid tried to focus on feeling the blood, like how he could feel metal objects. It was a much fainter sense than he was accustomed to, yet he was certain he could feel it. Kid put all his effort into redirecting the drip horizontally, defying gravity. It paused for half a second, possibly moving almost indiscernibly to the right. Seeing this, Kid gained confidence that this was something he could do. If he could learn it, and control it, it would prove to be a very dangerous power. And he could keep his dick hard longer. This new thought motivated him. He wasn't even going to think about trying it until he was sure he wouldn't blow his cock off, even though he had some incredibly detailed plans for a mechanical replacement penis with a bunch of awesome attachments, including but not limited to, a flamethrower and nail clippers. If it ever came to that.

Whenever Kid got frustrated with his lack of progress, there were very stress-relieving meat punching bags ready to take his anger out on. All you did was heal them enough so that they would live, not live really, but so they would die differently later. You noticed that he would hit Warthin much harder than the rest of them. It was touching that he still harbored rage for him on your behalf. It must have been an hour before Kid managed to move a finger. After he moved the trickling blood stream, he graduated to trying to move blood still inside the person. He was stuck on moving the fingers ever so slightly. He couldn't do more than that.

"This shit is too fucking hard!" 

"Are you a quitter?"

"NO!" Kid growled. "What's the fuckin point? Yer power can do this!"

"What if I'm not around and you need to use it?"

"When are ya not gonna be around?!"

"I don't know! It's a hypothetical!"

"YER NOT LEAVIN MY SIGHT! Ya keep getting lost!"

"Technically, I was stolen."

"DON'T FUCKIN REMIND ME!" Kid turned his attention to Warthin, barely restraining himself from ripping him apart.

"I'm not planning on going anywhere." You put his attention back on his task. Maybe later you would let him have a turn with Warthin. It might be fun to watch Kid and Killer take their anger out on him.

Kid struggled for a while longer, getting more irritated with every passing second. You figured it might be like this. You could always take a break and try again some other time. No one can master a technique in a day. You suggested taking a break but he shot you down, now too stubborn to give up. Kid was predictable. As such, you thought of something that may help. 

"Hey."

"WHAT?!"

"If you can move his arm, I'll peg you."

Kid blinked and turned back to the marine. Without warning, the marine's arm popped off his body and flew around the room like an untied balloon, spraying blood over both of you. 

His amber eyes glanced at the stump of the marines arm and the lifeless limb on the floor. "HA! LET'S GO!" He ran and grabbed you around the middle, barreling toward the door.

"Wait! Wait." He set you down. "I almost forgot." You found the long gloves that were kept for messy situations and donned them. Then, you grabbed the pruning shears and held them over a flame until they glowed molten orange. This was meant to be done by the leftover marine since you didn't really want to touch Warthin's dick at all. It still made your skin crawl to think about. The pleasure of chopping his dick off and shoving it up his ass should really be yours and no one else's, however, so you made the sacrifice.

You imagined it would be one clean chop. To his dismay, it took several chops to get the thing off, quite a lot really. It just kept getting jammed between the blades, folding over them, instead of being cut, like when you cut plastic ties with dull scissors. The entire point of heating it was to cauterize the vessels so it didn't make him bleed out. That didn't really pan out since it cooled down over the period of cutting. You feigned an apologetic expression as you mangled it further. It looked like you stuffed firecrackers in one end of it by the time you had actually severed it completely, or maybe like a small dog had gnawed on it for a while. It mattered little what it looked like because you held it in your fist and punched it straight up his asshole, reaching as far as you could go and jamming it there. The disgust hit later. In the moment, it felt good to hurt him. You wanted to rip him apart from the inside. You wanted to shove both your arms up his ass and tear him in two. And you could probably do it. But it was almost time for dinner and you didn't want to spoil your appetite. 

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

[bigshotautos]

What do you think Jevil's personality was like before his corruption by the Shadow Crystal? What do you think brought him and Spamton together, and what do you think ultimately caused their breakup? I apologize if you've already discussed this!!

HI i'm going to ramble a lot under the cut. have fun !

i have a really old post here about pre-corruption jevil, basically i still stand by everything said here except i'd like to add that he was probably also really kind of obnoxious. but in terms of timeline, he comes in contact with the "mysterious stranger" and has his revelation of the world he exists in, but doesn't fully go off the deep end until he snaps at card castle and has to be imprisoned, and while he's imprisoned his worldview twists round and round until it's an ironclad knot of repressed emotions instead of the freeing madness he wishes it was.

as for his relationship with spamton i've kind of been sliiiightly dodgy on it because i'd want to make a long comic of the big shot days consisting of their meeting, peak relationship, then downfall, i'm just concerned about chapter 3 destroying my take on the way the deltarune dark worlds work and the way "mike" / gaster tie into the plot. but the very condensed version is that jevil was already an established actor in the pre-canon secret bosses' interests, and big shot spamton was considered something of a liability to be kept in line, so jevil was sent to essentially keep him in line without spamton actually realizing that was his purpose for being there and without jevil really being given instruction on what to do besides pop in for days on end. spamton thought he was getting a free lackey over the phone but he actually got a barely hinged murderclown who he could not get rid of and actively wanted him As Scared as Possible.

eventually through spending time together they start to realize that they have a lot more in common than they could ever have initially thought, but they both have way too many Issues to see past themselves and truly see each other. the feelings were real, but neither trusted the other fully. when the things put in motion by the shadow crystal bearers break to the surface, their relationship doesn't survive it and they retreat back into themselves, worse than when they first started out, and this is when Jevil gets imprisoned and not much longer after Spamton has his dramatic fall from fame and fortune.

i'm just hesitant to make something big out of it when we're still missing a lot of variables, like the actual goal of gaster with the superbosses / the nature of the shadow crystals / seam's deal in general / several missing characters. i'd want to do this pairing a lot of justice LOL. it's probably the most impact a pairing has ever had on me and it still occupies a lot of my thoughts.

here's a little pre-corruption jevil doodle!

[wizardnuke]

bf says ive been going thru it and doing really well at that. bursts into tears.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I'm so burnt out and stressed about a variety of things lately, but a funny / sweet coincidence recently happened that I wanted to share:

Last week, I had a university student reach out to me (via my work email) asking for resources / advice on their research paper because I've written a lot of articles about the thing they're writing about. (I just got back to them today and they were real sweet, I'm excited to see how their paper turns out)

A week or two ago, I had someone reach out to me on RA asking for some specific clip info / date info because they were doing a research paper about Pac, and today I saw that they published their paper and put a special thanks to RA in the notes :')

I just think it's very sweet and a funny coincidence that my work (professional and fandom work) is getting cited in research papers. It made me smile a lot, I genuinely love that.

[kurthorton-moving]

I dont think i have ever mentioned nick on this blog bc hes an oc that has. Nothing to do with kurt or in common w him but looking at him next to kurt actually is so interesting to me because they're both around the same age coming from abusive homes and trying to just do what they have to to survive and theres so many interesting parallels between them

[grandwretch]

if winds of winter comes out and Sansa and Jon's friendship was a TV show hallucination idk what I'll do. set myself on fire? drown in a lake?

[orcelito]

I guess I should start looking into apartments for next year. I don't know where I'm going to be working after I graduate yet, but I'll have a car by then, so it shouldn't matter too much. And I'm hesitant to move when I don't know where I'm going to end up... but I will be honest, I cannot live in this place for another year. They've increased the rent by a literal 50% since I started living here 3 years ago, the air conditioning doesn't work, I have to do laundry by *coin operation*, and worst of all there is no patio or balcony to speak of. I need outdoor seating!!! For my mental health!!!! Adding in the fact that it's far too cramped with all the furniture I got from my dad...

Yeah. Even if I only live there for a year, I Got to move.

Gonna be working on sorting through all the shit in my apartment, especially the boxes from my dad. Once I get a car, I wanna make it my personal project in the next year to cut down on the shit that I own. Go through my old clothes and donate anything that I Never wear and Never would. The goal being that by the time I do move, I want there to not be a fucking boatload of shit to move. There's still all this furniture but like. Eh. Ya kno. Still wanna make it better than it could be.