#but I couldn't really break that up more than it is

[vmpireslut]

BRAT TAMER! 𝜗𝜚

sum𝜗𝜚 toji despises working. he'd rather be off gambling, losing himself in the thrill and chaos of the games. but then he meets you, his new client's spoiled daughter. it's okay, though... he's a brat tamer.

wc𝜗𝜚 6.6k [oopsie]

warnings𝜗𝜚 SEMI PROOF-READ, older!pervtoji, masterbation, fingering, female + male oral, cum eating, squirting, creaming, choking, spitting, explicit language, toji is kind of mean, reader is annoying, age-gap [reader is 19 toji is 35] just a whole lot of nasty shit, enjoy hornies!

Toji Zenin really hated working. The same boring tasks, the long hours, the wear and tear on his body, and the relentless sun made every day feel like a drag. But there was one thing that made it all a bit more bearable: his client. More specifically, his client’s daughter. Sure, it was a bit taboo to have thoughts about a girl so much younger, but he couldn’t help himself.

Those shorts of yours were always way too tight, hugging your curves like they were made for you. And those shirts? Toji was pretty sure you didn’t even own a bra, especially with how your nipples would poke through the fabric whenever he caught a glimpse of you.

You had no shame, showing off that gorgeous body and cute face at every opportunity. It was like you wanted to be noticed in those revealing outfits, strutting around in swimsuits that left little to the imagination. He’d even seen your pussy lips once as you’d bent down near the pool, he remembers because he’d spent the entirety of his lunch break fisting his raging boner in a hot portable toilet.

Not exactly his finest hour.

You were undeniably a brat, completely indulged by your widowed father who was eager to fulfill every whim of his precious daughter. With wealth, a stunning home, a devoted dad, and your charming looks, it was no surprise that you carried the air of entitlement. Toji, however, found a certain appeal in your spoiled nature; he preferred you as a brat rather than a timid wallflower. From his perspective, brats were easier to tame. Most days, he found himself lost in fantasies of you. Daydreaming about your pretty little cunt warped about his cock.

It frustrated him how deeply you had woven yourself into his life. He couldn’t even get into it with his casual fling anymore unless he pictured you, and man, did that feel amazing.

"Dad!"

Speak of the Devil. The sound of your voice filled the air just as the front gate slammed behind you. Fresh from your weekly shopping spree with friends, you made your entrance. Toji felt a surge of frustration as the sharp click of your heels echoed on the cement. He turned away from his work space, his gaze fixed on you as you sauntered over, your hips swaying and oversized sunglasses perched on your nose.

He couldn't help but observe as you approached your father, a look of irritation etched on your face. Perhaps you had finally hit your credit card limit. With a sulky pout and arms crossed beneath your perky breasts, you pushed them up, and his thoughts spiraled.

Toji wanted nothing more than to rip the tank top off your body, pull your nipples between his fingers and twist them until you were crying.

"My card was declined!"

Toji struggled to suppress a laugh, biting down on the inside of his cheek. What a foolish little brat. Your father shot you a disapproving glance, and you let out an exasperated huff, stomping your foot like the spoiled child you were.

"I was at the mall trying to buy a cute dress, and the card didn't go through! So, I called the bank and they said it was declined!"

Your father sighed, and Toji could have sworn he saw the old man roll his eyes. He must have been fed up with having to coddle an adult woman.

"Listen, sweetheart. I already mentioned that I won't be giving you another allowance until next week. Perhaps it's time you learned how to manage your money, or maybe I should restrict your card usage. Clearly, this isn't working out." You gasped in response, and Toji couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback.

Maybe your dad wasn't as soft as he seemed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for him, having to handle a spoiled daughter like you.

“That's so unfair!" You cried, turning away from your dad, arms flailing and he swore he saw you kick a rock like a toddler having a tantrum. "I hate this fucking place! It's so hot and the bugs are everywhere. I can't stand it! Shopping is the only thing that keeps me sane." You yelled.

He noticed your dad wince, and Toji could already picture the headache brewing in the man's mind. "Mind your language," he said calmly, but you just scoffed.

"Or what?"

Toji could predict how this would unfold. Your dad would let out a resigned sigh and give in, while you'd strut away with a triumphant grin.

"Go to your room; you're done for the day. Sit there and think about your behavior. You're clearly too worked up," he said, and you stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" you yelled, and he shook his head.

"I mean it. You're too agitated, and I don't want you to say or do something you'll regret later. Please, just go to your room," he insisted, and Toji had to suppress a laugh. It was clear you were at a loss for how to respond. You stomped your feet again and huffed in frustration.

"Fine."

As you marched toward your room, the sound of your heels echoed sharply, culminating in a loud slam of the door. Your father exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose while muttering softly to himself. "Kids..." he murmured, glancing at Toji with a sympathetic expression.

"I apologize for that. She's dealing with a lot at the moment." Toji responded with a reassuring shake of his head. "It's all good," he said, prompting a smile from your father.

“Thank you Toji. You’re a great guy, and you’ve done an amazing job with building the shed so far.”

“Thanks, sir,” he responded. Your dad turned his gaze toward your bedroom window, and Toji’s eyes followed suit. You were anxiously pacing, phone pressed to your ear, a scowl etched on your face. Your father frowned, and Toji cleared his throat, feeling the tension in the air.

Toji had never really had a conversation with you, and the only time he did, you had unleashed a torrent of curses at him. It was his first day on the job, and you had come down wearing nothing but a silk pink robe, clearly annoyed at being stirred from your sleep so early in the morning.

He stood there, taking in the sight of you descending the steps, the silk draping around your figure. He could see the gentle curves of your body, the outline of your bare breasts, the shape of your hips, and the smoothness of your legs.

"Do you realize how ridiculously early it is? It's seven, you dick!" You shot, glaring at Toji with a fiery intensity. He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your attitude. It was obvious you were still in the process of waking up, not fully aware of who was standing there.

"Miss, I recommend you mind your language," he replied, and he could have sworn he noticed a shiver run through you. Your lovely lips parted slightly, a soft gasp escaping, and Toji had to fight the urge to grin. So, you enjoyed being spoken to like that. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking down at you with a playful smirk.

He didn’t spare you a second glance, not even flinching when the front door slammed shut behind you. From that moment on, you shot him daggers every time he crossed your path, throwing out sarcastic remarks whenever your father was out of earshot. Your behavior only escalated, and Toji was certain your dad was on the verge of exploding. But Toji believed he could change you; he was confident he could take that defiant attitude and transform it. He was certain of it. He would fuck that ego right out of you and mold it into a perfect little slut, ready and willing to please him.

"I still have a few tasks to finish up around the house. Thanks again, Toji," your father remarked, and Toji simply nodded.

"Absolutely."

The two shared a smile and the older man went back inside, leaving Toji to his thoughts. His mind wandered to all the possibilities and ways he could take you apart. He could see it now, his large hand holding yours down, forcing you to stay still as he pounded into your tight cunt. His other hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight as he made you cum, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. He'd pull out and force his cock down your throat, forcing you to choke on him. He'd fill you with his seed, spilling everything down your throat, watching as you swallowed his hot cum, a blissful look on your face.

God, the thoughts were intoxicating.

He would break you, mold you, bend you, and make you his own personal toy. You were going to be his.

He would make sure of it.

Your father had kept his promise; he had cut off your credit card and confined you to the house. It felt like a never-ending limbo. Most of your days were spent buried in a cheesy romance novel by the pool or dozing off. For the past few weeks, your dad had been working late, leaving you to dine solo and binge-watch reruns of old TV shows. It was downright dismal.

He even spent his evenings holed up in his office, tackling whatever tasks awaited him. The atmosphere was heavy with loneliness. You could sense his disappointment in your behavior, but who could really blame you? This house was a snooze fest. While your friends were off enjoying their summer adventures, you were stuck here.

They couldn’t even swing by to visit because of their packed schedules. Still, they called regularly, sharing tales of their escapades and new crushes. You appreciated their efforts to keep you in the loop, but those conversations only filled the emptiness for so long.

Today, you decided to lounge by the pool, soaking up the sun on a comfy chair. You donned your favorite bikini, a stylish white and gold set, the straps loosely tied, barely holding everything in place. The high-waisted bottoms accentuated your curves perfectly. Beside you, a refreshing glass of lemonade and a colorful mix of fruits—cherries, pineapples, and more—sat waiting. Your book lay on your stomach, eager for your attention once more.

The pool was stunning, and it had always been one of your favorite places to escape to. The water sparkled like crystal, the waterfall cascaded beautifully, and the palm trees swayed gently above. It was the sole reason you tolerated living in such a sweltering climate. However, there was one major drawback: the man who is building the shed. Toji, you learned was his name.

You couldn't stand him. He was insufferably rude and full of himself. His looks only made matters worse. You despised how incredibly handsome he was. You had never encountered a man so striking before. The definition of his arms, the chiseled jawline, and the width of his shoulders were infuriating.

His dark eyes, sun-kissed skin, and flowing dark hair only added to your irritation. It was maddening how flawless he appeared. Just the thought of him made your blood boil. He was so self-satisfied and arrogant, and the way he acted like he was superior to you drove you up the wall.

“Whatcha reading?”

You startled at the sound of his voice, glancing over to find Toji casually leaning against the patio door, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. His white button-up shirt was rolled up, showcasing his well-defined arms. A warm flush crept across your cheeks. Why the fuck was he so handsome?

"What do you want?" you shot back, setting your book aside.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything," he said, striding over to the chair beside you and pulling it closer. "Your dad mentioned he’d be working late and I thought I could order dinner for you," he added, a hint of mischief in his tone, causing your brows to knit together in confusion.

"Why the hell would you order dinner for me? I can do it myself.”

"Because I'm a nice guy, and it would suck for a pretty girl like you to have to fend for herself." He responded, a sly smile on his lips and you couldn't help the small shiver that went down your spine. You shook the thoughts from your head and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, right. You just want to get in my pants. Don't try to act like a good guy, I know exactly who you are. My dad's a great guy, he'd never hire a creep like you."

"Is that what you think?"

You didn't answer, a scowl forming on your face.

"Well, if I'm a creep, then what does that make you?"

"What?"

"Come on, don't act dumb. I know you get off on teasing me."

"You're a fucking pervert.”

"Maybe."

His grin was wolfish, and he looked predatory, leaning forward and staring you down. "Tell me, have you been a good girl lately? Or have you been naughty?"

"I-"

"You've been very bratty lately. I know your dad's getting sick of it."

You swallowed thickly, a blush coating your cheeks. How could he read you so well?

"But, don't worry. I can fix you."

"Fix me? What are you talking about?"

"You're spoiled. And I'll change that."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you want it. I can tell."

He leaned back, his arm resting on the back of the chair.

"And, if you're good, I'll reward you."

"Reward me?"

He grinned and nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear.

"Yes. If you're a good girl, I'll fuck you like the slut you are."

He pulled back, the grin never leaving his face.

"Think about it, princess."

He winked, standing up and turning away, a chuckle leaving him.

You were speechless, your heart racing, and a blush coloring your cheeks. The heat pooled between your legs and you shifted. What the fuck was wrong with him? Did he really think you would let him fuck you?

Who were you kidding, you were already soaked.

"Dick..." You muttered, shaking your head.

That night, you couldn't get him out of your head. The way his words had sent shivers down your spine, the way his gaze had been filled with lust. It was so...wrong, but it was a wrong you wanted. You didn't care, and the idea of getting caught only added to the thrill. You'd already spent an hour in the shower, the warm water and the detachable shower head bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. You could still hear his voice, the raspy tone, the way his words dripped with sex and lust. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he had you right where he wanted. You could hear his chuckle echoing in your head, his grin filling your mind.

It was sad, really.

How could a man you didn't even like have this effect on you?

It was ridiculous.

You couldn't believe you were letting him get into your mind.

He was a fucking creep.

A handsome, sexy, confident creep.

A sudden knock at the door jolted you from your reverie, causing you to startle and sit up abruptly. You quickly snatched a towel, wrapping its comforting softness around you before swinging the door open. There he stood, the man who had been lingering in your thoughts.

" What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I brought the pizza. I told you I was getting dinner." He replied, a grin on his lips and you scoffed.

"Why did you bring it up here?"

"I was trying to be nice, and besides. I didn't know when your dad was going to be home."

He stepped forward, forcing his way into the room, and setting the box down on the bed.

"You're such a dick." You muttered, crossing your arms.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"What's wrong with me bringing food to the boss' daughter?"

"Nothing. But, that's not why you're here."

"And, what do you think I'm here for?"

"Don't play dumb, you already told me."

"Oh, is that right?" He chuckled. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?"

You were taken aback by his sudden question, your eyes widening.

"Whaa—No, I don't."

"Then, why are you so wet?"

“I just got out of the shower wise guy. Get out.”

He grinned and stepped closer, and you took a step back.

"Y’know, the walls are thin. So, it's easy to hear the moans and gasps of a girl when she touches herself. But, hey. What would I know? I'm just a construction guy."

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he really heard you masturbate?

"S-shut up. I don't know what you're talking about.” You felt your heart race and the towel slip down slightly. You moved to fix it, and he stepped forward, his hand moving towards your neck.

"Let me take care of that for you."

He gripped the towel, his lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. There was a fierce hunger in him, as he explored your mouth with fervor. His tongue danced inside, teasing the roof of your mouth. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to your breasts, fingers pinching your nipple with a playful intensity earning a whine from you. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down to your neck, planting soft kisses that turned into gentle bites on your sensitive skin. As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across his face as he gazed down at you.

"Get on the bed."

"Wha-what?"

"Get on the bed."

You were surprised by his commanding tone, and you could feel your cunt aching. You walked towards the bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and you fell back. You looked up at him, and he smiled.

"Take off the towel."

You did as he said, pulling the towel away and revealing your naked body. He licked his lips, a hungry expression in his eyes.

"Touch yourself."

Your hands moved to your breasts, cupping the mounds and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You let out a soft gasp, your head falling back. you began to rub your sensitive clit. You were already wet, the thought of being watched had made you dripping. The pleasure that shot through you made your knees weak and your eyes fluttered closed.

You heard his voice again, this time closer to your ear and you shuddered.

"Good girl."

“Oh god..."

"Spread your legs wider."

You whimpered, moving your legs farther apart and you sank a finger inside of you. Your body quivered as you slowly began pumping your hand and the warmth began to build in your belly.

"Yes...that's it."

You cried out softly as you slipped another finger inside of you, pumping them faster and faster. Your body tingled. Toji watched, his cock aching for release in his pants. You looked so slutty spread out for him like this, slickness leaking down your ass. He wanted to shove his dick into your hot, tight pussy, but he restrained himself. You were his to command.

"Faster. Fuck yourself faster."

"Nghh...I-I..."

"Come for me, kitten."

You moaned, your walls clenching around your fingers. You were already sore from your previous orgasms, but you felt another one quickly coming. You moved your hips, trying to get more friction.

"That's right. Ride your hand like a little whore. Cum for me. Now."

"A-Ahh!"

Your hips bucked against your hand and you came, squirting over your fingers and onto the floor. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you sank down into the matress.

Toji growled lowly, the sight of your glistening pussy and the smell of your sex made him feel dizzy. He pulled his hard cock out of his pants and stroked it quickly, his thumb rubbing over his fat tip. You felt him climb onto the bed and his hand gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your mouth."

You obeyed, gasping as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your tongue. He pumped his hand, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. Your jaw ached as he fucked your mouth.

"Take my cock...nghh."

Toji groaned, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up. You could feel him twitching on your tongue. You moaned around him, sending a wave of pleasure through him. His hand squeezed the back of your neck tighter.

"Suck harder ughh."

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he forced his entire length down your throat, the tip of his cock touching the back of your tongue. Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to breathe.

"Mmghhh."

You tried to relax your throat, sucking on his cock the best you could. Your hands clenched the sheets.

"That's a good girl."

He grunted, his cock pulsating.

"M-Mmm You take me so well, kitten.”

You were drooling, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. It was disgusting. He pulled back and you took a deep inhale.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

"N-no."

"No, what?"

"No, sir."

"Then get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He growled and thrust his hips.

"Good, baby."

He groaned, hands finding themselves in your hair.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come soon. You ready for me, baby? Gonna swallow every drop?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, good girl."

His thrusts became faster and more erratic, his breathing shallow.

"Ahh. Fuck, yeah. G’na come."

He hated how fast he was nearing his end, but the way you gobbled him down and squeezed his balls in time with your tongue had him spiraling. Your every movement was calculated, each flick of your tongue and squeeze of your hand driving him closer to the edge. He could feel the tension building within him, a mix of pleasure and desperation that left him breathless. The intensity of your touch, combined with your unwavering eye contact, made it impossible for him to hold back any longer.

“Ughhhh fuckkkkk!” He threw his head back and came, shooting thick ropes of his hot seed down your throat. You swallowed, moaning and milking him for everything he had. You felt him shiver, his muscles tensing as he came down. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and wild.

He grabbed you by the arm, yanking you up to your feet and crushing his mouth to yours. You could feel the heat from his body and you melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck. He was heavy and hot, pressing you into the mattress. He kissed his way down your chest and stomach, his fingers brushing the wet folds of your pussy.

"Toji!”

"Mm, you're still so wet."

"F-for youuuu."

"You like being touched like this?"

"Uh huh."

He slipped a finger inside of you, his thumb brushing your clit. You whined, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently. You writhed underneath him, his name a constant prayer. He added another finger, stretching you, finding that special gummy spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly.

A desperate whine leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls away, tucking his cock back into his pants. You look up at him, pouting.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You didn't fuck me."

"That wasn't the plan, princess."

"I hate you. Pervert.”

He chuckles, patting your thigh.

"No, you don't."

He gets up and walks out of the room, leaving you panting and unsatisfied.

"Fucking dick.”

Toji had you completely under his spell. His piercing gaze and self-assured presence made it impossible for you to look away. Each time you attempted to shift your focus elsewhere, your mind would inevitably circle back to him. The way he moved, the way he spoke—everything about him was magnetic, pulling you in deeper.

He was aware of the effect he had on you. A glimmer of satisfaction danced in his eyes whenever he caught you watching him. It was as if he relished the control he held, knowing you were utterly entranced by his aura. Despite your attempts to fight it, a rush of excitement coursed through you every time he was close.

It became a familiar pattern where Toji would bend you over, his fingers exploring you until you either squirted or cried out his name in ecstasy. Yet, he never crossed that final line, leaving you both frustrated and yearning. Your father noticed your newfound cheerfulness, but you brushed it off with a casual shrug. Eventually, he returned your credit card and lifted your grounding, but your thoughts remained consumed by Toji.

“Oh yeah honey, I invited Toji over for dinner.”

You froze, and looked up from the raw chicken.

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to thank him for helping us out, he’s done a great job. Don’t ya think?”

"Why can't we just send him a gift basket or something?"

"Because that would be rude. Besides, he's a nice guy. He deserves to be treated like a guest."

You sighed and tightened your grip on the meat tenderizer. The truth was, you hadn’t spoken to Toji in days; he seemed to be keeping his distance. The thought of being in the same space with him was daunting, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with your father around, right? You shook off the thought and concentrated on your cooking, but the anxiety swirling in your chest was hard to ignore.

When Toji finally entered the dining room, you were a bundle of nerves. A mix of excitement and dread washed over you as he stepped inside. His mere presence seemed to dominate the room, and you struggled to keep your eyes from lingering on him.

"Hey, thanks for inviting me."

"Of course, Toji. It's the least we could do."

You kept your head down and focused on your food the entire night, ignoring the urge to look at him.

"You okay, pumpkin? You're very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine."

"She's probably just tired." Toji said.

Your eyes grew wide as you locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his stare pierce through you, sending your heart into a frenzy. The urge to reach out and slap him was strong, but you knew better than to provoke your father’s suspicion. So, you bit your tongue and focused on your meal instead.

Once dinner was over, your father retreated to his study, Toji having promised to clean up, leaving you two in an awkward silence. The tension in the room was palpable, with both of you at a loss for words. You felt an overwhelming desire to shout at him, to accuse him of being a creep and to have used you. To demand he leave, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, you remained there, simmering with frustration.

At last, he shattered the stillness.

"So, how are you liking the new semester?"

"Fine."

"Any problems?"

"No."

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I know you're mad at me."

"Mad? I'm fucking furious. What the fuck is your deal, Toji? You get me hooked then you go ghost?”

"Hooked?"

"You know what I mean."

He chuckled, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "It was just a bit of fun. Didn't mean anything by it."

"Bullshit. I'm not stupid. Why are you playing with me?"

He locks his hands under his chin. "I'm not playing with you."

You glared. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. You want me."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You're a kid. It would be inappropriate."

"I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you are. Look, it's nothing personal. I just don't date girls like you."

"Girls like me?"

"Rich kids with their own personal army."

"I'm not-"

"Save it. I know who your dad is. I'm not interested in getting mixed up in his business, it was a mistake doing those things with you."

You swallowed thickly, his words like a slap.

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Because I was invited."

"You're such a dick."

You were angry, but you couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing as you. What it would be like to have him pin you down and fuck you. The thought made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I bet if I told your father what we'd been doing, he'd have a very different opinion of you."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. Just a reminder. Don't forget who's in charge here."

"Fuck you."

"I don't fuck little girls."

You could feel your anger rising, and you were tempted to throw something at him. But you knew he was right. He was in control, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"So, what now? Are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?"

"If that's what you want."

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, then I guess we're at an impasse."

"I hate you."

"Don't be dramatic. You barely know me."

"I know enough. You're a jerk and a bully."

"And you're a spoiled brat who needs to learn some respect."

You scoffed at him, clenching your fists.

"Don't push me, princess."

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things." He quipped.

His eyes were dark and full of promise, and you could feel yourself growing wet.

"I bet."

"You wanna find out?"

“What I want is to slap that grin off your stupid face."

"Slap me. Do it."

"No."

"Why not? Too scared?"

"No."

"Then do it." He urges.

"Stop it."

"What? You're the one who's always pushing my buttons. Come on, princess. Show me what you got."

You stand and lift your hand, striking him sharply across the face, the crack resonating throughout the room. A sharp intake of breath escaped you, and your eyes widened in shock. His cheek flushed crimson, clearly marked by the outline of your hand. He smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're an asshole."

"Yeah, and you're a spoiled bitch who likes to get fucked with my fingers."

You could feel your face flush, and you turned away from him.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

"Fine. Go fuck yourself." You sigh.

"Nah, I think I'll have you do it."

He chuckled, his voice deep and low.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You snapped.

"No. Not with you. Never."

"Really? Not even a little?"

"Not even a little." You rolled your eyes.

"Come on, princess. You can't lie to me. I can see it in your eyes. I can practically smell the desire on you."

"Shut up."

"Why? Because I'm right?"

"No, because you're annoying."

"So, you're not interested? Not even a little?"

"Fuck you, bipolar ass."

"Ooh, feisty. I like it."

"I hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart."

He was the one with the upper hand, and there was nothing you could do about it. He stands up from the table, face inches from yours. “Ya think if fucked you on this table lil ol’ daddy would hear?” You felt your pulse quicken, and a wave of arousal wash over you. "What? No snarky comeback?"

"You're a fucking pig."

"I might be, but at least I'm honest about it. Unlike you."

He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours. "Tell me, princess. Do you like the idea of being fucked on your family's expensive table?" You could feel his erection pressing against your hip, and you could barely contain the moan that threatened to escape.

"Tell me. Is this turning you on? The idea of being used like a cheap whore, your father just down the hall."

"Fuck you." You shakily breathe out. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to bend you over and fuck your tight little pussy. Make you scream my name while your daddy is sipping his scotch, completely oblivious."

"Enough Toji.”

"What's the matter, princess? Don't want your daddy to know what a dirty little slut you are? How you’re fucking a grimy old man.”

"I'm not a slut."

"Could've fooled me. With the way you're always begging for my cock."

"I am not!"

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. We both know the truth."

You could feel your face burning, and you were desperate to put some distance between the two of you. But his body was like a brick wall, and you couldn't move.

"Get off of me."

"Why? Afraid you might enjoy it?"

"You’re…disgusting"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? If I bent you over and fucked you right here, right now. Made you scream so loud your daddy would come running. Wouldn't that be fun?"

You were furious, but the truth was, his words were turning you on. You couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, or the way your nipples were straining against your shirt.

"What's wrong, princess? Cat got your tongue?"

"Fuck. You."

"Mm, that's more like it."

His hand snaked up your shirt, his fingers grazing your nipples. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

"That's right, baby. Let me hear you."

"Stop it."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"No."

"Liar."

He squeezed your left bud, and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "You like that, don't you? You like being manhandled by a real man. Not some preppy rich boy."

"Please."

"Please, what? Stop? Or keep going?"

"Keep…going."

"That's what I thought."

His hand dipped lower. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you wore this skirt for him. For easy access, of course. The way it hugged your curves, the way it rode up just enough to tease him, it was all too perfect. He couldn't help but think you knew exactly what you were doing. His hands slid up your thighs, feeling the soft fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath. As he lifted the skirt higher, his breath hitched, and he couldn't wait to ruin you. His fingers brushing against the growing wet spot on your pink laced panties.

"Such a dirty little slut. Look at you, already soaking wet and I've barely touched you."

"Fuck."

"Mmm, you want that, don't you? You want me to fuck you. Right here. Right now. In your daddy's house. Where he could walk in any minute and catch us."

"Please."

"Beg me."

"Please, fuck me."

"Good girl."

He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you mewled in pleasure.

“So loud, no respect."

You gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself as he continued to assault your senses. His fingers were relentless, teasing and stroking, and soon, you were a writhing mess.

”Open your mouth.” he commands, a mischievous glint in his eyes. your mind is foggy, and you find yourself following his directions, opening your mouth slightly. You winch as his fingers dig into your cheeks, a glob of spit trickling from his mouth into yours. You can taste the acidity and bitterness as it slides down your throat. Your mind screams to pull away, but your body ignores it. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin, his fingers leaving your face to grip your hair tightly.

The first slap sends your head flying, a dull ache beginning in the right side of your skull. He holds you in place and slaps you again, this time your teeth cut into your lip and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. His eyes narrow, the grip on your hair tightening.

“Gonna fix you.”

"Please. Please."

"What? What do you want, princess?"

"I want… I want you."

"You want me to fuck you? To make you come?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Say it."

"Please, fuck me."

He pushed your panties aside, his fingers delving into your slick heat. You sobbed, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body. He smirked, watching your expression as he slowly finger-fucked you.

"God, you're so fucking wet."

"Please. Please, don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He added another finger, stretching you further. You grunted out, the sensation almost too much to bear. Toji presses the sloppiest kisses on your neck as he finger fucks you, pad of his thumb still working your sticky clit. You know it’s risky to be doing this, your father could come out at any moment. But, when Toji’s slender fingers prod into your mushy pussy, all rationality leaves your mind. All you can think about is his fingers pumping in and out of you.

Your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel your orgasm building slowly but surely. Your toes curl, and your body begins to shake. You dig your nails into his shoulders, trying desperately to ground yourself. He continues his assault on your pussy, his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Ah she’s gushin’ all over me.” He laughs, watching your body spasm.

“Toji…please."

"Please what, princess?"

"I need...I need..."

"What? Tell me."

"I need to come."

"Not yet."

"Please. Please, I'm begging you."

"Oh, I love it when you beg. But not yet."

He withdraws his fingers, and you whimper at the loss. He smirks and sucks his digits, licking the juices from them. You can't help but stare at him, transfixed by his movements.

"God, you taste good. I could eat this pussy all day."

"Please."

"Patience, princess."

He turns you around and bends you over the table, your ass in the air. You can feel his erection pressing against your leg, and you know he wants this as much as you do. He pulls down up your skirt and frees his cock. It's big and thick, and you can't help but lick your lips. He strokes himself a few times, coating his cock with your juices as he slaps it on your pussy.

He rubs the head of his cock against your wet slit, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You can't believe how turned on you are, how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

He has to clamp a hand over your mouth when he begins sheltering his beefy length into your cunt. Your scream is muffled by his hand, and he slowly pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but clench around him. He grunts, his grip on your hips tightening with his free hand.

"God, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight."

You can't help but push back against him, wanting him deeper. despite the searing pain between your legs. He continues his assault on your pussy, thrusting in and out of you. Your moans are muffled by his hand, eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so good, “Shittt—ughm, can’t have you getting us caught.”

Toji whispers into your ear, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

He removes his hand from your mouth and wraps it around your throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"God, you're so fucking hot."

You can't form words, the pleasure taking over.

He squeezes so hard you think you might pass out, but then his hand is gone, and he's pounding into you at a frenzied pace. "Fucking hell." He groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

You try to stifle your moans, but it's no use. He's relentless, driving into you again and again, his cock hitting all the right spots. You feel like heaven around him, walls constricting around his aching cock. He can't believe how lucky he is to have a little cockslut like you.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, the table scraping against the floor. The sound of skin slapping now deafening, and the smell of sex permeates the air.

He reaches around and rubs your clit, tears streaming down your face.

"That's right, princess. Take it."

Your entire body is shaking, the pressure building until it's unbearable. He removes his hand from your throat and slaps your ass, the sharp pain pushing you closer towards the edge. You cry out. “ Q-Quie—“ he’s cutting you off as he slams his cock deep into you, the force of his thrust causing the table to squeak and shudder. “Shut up. Talk t-to much.” He mutters, shoving two of his fingers into your mouth.

The taste of yourself on his fingers sends you spiraling into oblivion. Your pussy clenches around him, and he groans.

"Oh fuck."

He pounds into you, his own release imminent.

"Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum."

He grips your hips tightly now with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Toji. Toji. Oh, fuck. Fuck." You cry out, stars exploding behind your eyes as your orgasm tears through you.

He groans and buries his cock deep inside of you, then he’s retracting. Thick white cream built at the base of his shaft, coating his cock in slickness. His eyes roll back at the sight of the pearlescent liquid smeared along his length. A thick layer coats his hand as he slides his fist along his member, his fingers moving easily from the wetness.

His balls draw up as his pleasure increases, his ass clenching with his need for release. Once again, you’ve got him cumming in under ten minutes. He hates it, but damn you feel so good.

"Fuckin’ killin me, can’t last with you.” He groans as he shoots his load on your ass.

You lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck. You're perfect, princess."

You can't help but moan as he spreads your pussy from behind, his tongue lapping up the mixture of your juices.

"Tastes so good. I can't get enough."

You can't speak, the sensation too much for your spent body.

He continues his assault on your pussy until you're a whimpering mess, begging him to stop. He finally relents, standing up and tucking himself back into his pants.

"I think we made quite the mess, princess."

He smirks, the sight of you bent over the table, his cum dripping down your thighs a beautiful sight to behold.

“You alright sweetheart?” You hear your father call, confused by the commotion.

“I’m fine! Just stuffed.”

Toji snickers, placing a kiss on your cheek whilst pulling your skirt down. You can't help but smile, knowing that this isn't the last time you'll have him inside of you. You'll make sure of it.

[fungateshortcakes]

Munch Munch

OMG I FORGOT I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FORGIVE ME

Just a lil old man Logan drabble bc UGHHH he can crush my head with those juicy arms AHHH

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Logan never understood why you looked at him the way you did.

He was old. He was tired. His body was breaking down from the inside, poisoned by the very thing that once made him invincible. His hands shook more than they used to and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you saw. You saw everything.

And yet there you were, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, giving him that look again. Like he was something worth staring at. Logan wasn’t used to being wanted. Not like this.

He could feel your gaze tracing over his arms as he sat in his white wifebeater at the kitchen table. This was by far not the first time he caught you staring at him like that. He noticed it every time. The way you would watch the flex of his biceps beneath his shirt, the way his forearms tensed whenever he clenched his fists. He wasn’t blind. And if he had any doubts, well, the way you were looking at him right now? Like you wanted to sink your teeth into him? Yeah. That cleared things up really fast.

"You’re staring again" he muttered, though he didn’t cover up, just took another sip of his drink. "Mhm" you hummed completely unapologetic in how you were goggling his arms. You pushed yourself away from the doorframe and stepped in closer, fingers reaching out to lightly drag over his arm, just enough to make his skin prickle.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the beer can in his hand down on the table "You got a problem?"

"Yeah, actually" you said, tilting your head. "These arms? They’re just sitting there. Not being held. Not being bitten. Wasted potential, really."

Logan choked on a laugh, a rare sound from him "Bitten? What do you-?" before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in and without hesitation you pressed your teeth lightly against his bicep. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make him feel it. A playful little bite that was gone as fast as it came.

Logan went completely still. The only sound was the sharp breath he sucked in through his teeth. You pulled back again and watched his reaction, your lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Huh, that shut you up really quick."

Logan finally blinked, looking up at you like he wasn’t quite sure what the hell just happened. He opened his mouth but closed it before any words came out, rubbing a hand over his beard and sighing deeply.

"You just bit me" he said, like he was still trying to process it.

You grinned "Yeah. You act like you can just sit here with these babies out and expect me not to."

Logan huffed, shaking his head at your words, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He almost a smiled. Almost. But you counted it as a win nonetheless "You’re goddamn ridiculous" he muttered.

"Maybe" you mused with a pout, poking at his arm again. "Now flex for me, old man. Let me see the goods." you demanded, already munching on your bottom lip in anticipation. You just couldn't help it. You knew he was starting to feel his age, to look it, too. But damn, his arms were still plumb 'n thick. Just how you liked them.

Logan let out a low groan and for a second you thought he would just ignore you, but to your absolute delight, he sat up a little more straight, rolled his shoulders back and flexed- just a little, as if to tease. Just enough to make the veins in his forearms pop, to make the muscles in his biceps shift under his skin.

And goddamn, you swore you felt lightheaded...and how your panties were getting wet. You bit your lip at the sight "Shit" you breathed, your eyes fighting from rolling back because good god "You are so hot."

Logan narrowed his eyes at your praise, grumbling something under his breath, but you caught the way his ears burned just a little bit pink. He could act all gruff and broody, but you knew the truth now.

You were disappointed as he lowered his arm again. You stepped closer, placing your hands on his arms, fingers tracing the muscle slowly, deliberately. A shudder ran up his spine at your touch. He tried to play it down, but he couldn't hide the obvious goosebumps explodig over his scarred skin "Do it again, baby. " you murmured, smoothing over his shoulder and arms.

Logan arched a brow "Again?"

"Again" you stated firmly, it sounded like a command to him. And maybe he would follow it. He rolled his eyes, but you were able to catch the slightest smile on his lips that seemed a little proud, flattered even. It was balm for the soul, your words. You actually wanted to see him, worship something he thought no one cared for anymore. But here you were.

Acting as if he was annoyed by your persistance, he lifted his arm and flexed, this time for real. The muscle in his biceps tensed, thick and solid beneath your hands that wandered over the firm muscle. His forearms flexed, veins running up his skin like a goddamn work of art. The old scars, the roughness, the strength, it was all so perfect. Your forearm next to his biceps looked so small, it made your mouth water.

And you couldn’t help it. You made a sound. A tiny, helpless whimper that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

Logan froze and his arm lowered slightly "Did you just-?"

"Shut up" you giggled, pressing your face against his shoulder to hide the absolute mess he was making of you "Nah, sweetheart" he said, his voice downright smug and a grin spreading across his face while he stood up, towering over you, wrapping his strong arms around your neck, making you groan as pure, firm muscle surrounded your flushed face "What was that sound?" he teased, his voice low and raspy against your ear

You whined annoyed against his broad chest, wanting him to drop it "Logan"

But he wasn't letting up "You whimpered" he stated matter of factly, clearly enjoying himself "Over my arms."

Your hands slid up his sides, squeezing him. You looked up through your eyelashes, a suggestive grin on your lips "Well, you could just shut me up with these big, strong arms of yours" you purred, leaning up to kiss him. And Logan could already picture the way your teeth would sink into his flesh as he held you in a headlock while pounding his cock into you from behind, leaving deep bite marks on his arms that wouldn’t start to fade until the next morning. He grinned back down at you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

"Let's give you a reason to bite, bub"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Fuck me he is so hot the best he ever looked and I will DIE on that hill. One chance, ONE FUCKING CHANCE!!!! I am not rlly the girly to randomly bite my partner but istg I would munch and nibble and gnaw on his arms FOREVER they are so big and manly and mhmm and yummy and BARK BARK

I have two more old man Logan drafts I completely forgot about- should I post them too?

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny 4

AN: Sorry it took so long! I've decided to forget about the schedule I once had and I will be updating this when I feel the motivation to write for it! I love my Bunny and want to keep writing for her. I was originally gonna write George's DSQ but decided to hold off so look out for the next few days to see the next part to Paddock Bunny!!!

TW: ROUGH sex, slapping, spanking, multiple orgasms, protected sex, UNPROTECTED sex, oral, creampie, face fucking, MDNI 18+

WC: 3.1k

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Y/N POV

The Mclaren garage after Oscar's first win is very different from when Lando won his first Grand Prix. Everyone is trying to be excited for the young Australian driver but there's an undertone in the room that is making it more awkward than anything.

I make my way to Oscar's driver room knowing he would be alone since his engineer had just walked back towards my dad to do their debrief.

"Come in," I hear Oscar call out when I knock gently on the door. When he sees that it's me he instantly breaks out into a wide smile.

"I'm so fucking proud of you," I say while making me way to where he is sitting on the couch before climbing into his lap and into my arms.

"I think you are the first person from the team to say that," Oscar mumbles into my chest where he had buried his face.

"Not even Tom?" I say while pulling his face up to look up at me. He just kinds of shrugs the question off.

"Probably but it's been a bit of a blur if I'm being honest," Oscar tells me making me smile. When he sees me smiling he starts to smile too letting his eyes shine in excitement for the first time since I've walked into the room.

"I think that was the most awkward podium I've ever been on," Oscar whispers making me pout. It was awkward just watching it happen so I couldn't imagine being up there.

"You deserved better," I tell him softly while my fingers lightly trace over his cheek bones making him look up with a soft smile.

"If a weird ass podium gets you in my lap at the end of the day, I'll suffer every race," Oscar tells me with a smirk while dropping his hands from my waist down to my ass where he gives it a little squeeze before pulling me in closer and bringing his lips to mine.

"Lily, called and said you looked beautiful in the garage," Oscar tells me softly making me smile.

"Tell her thank you," I whisper before leaning down and pulling him in for another kiss. Feeling Oscar's tongue tangling with mine I can't help the small moan slipping from my lips.

"Will you be spending your night with me?" Oscar asks me softly making me smile and nod my head.

"Only if you'll have me over?" I reply back.

"Of course I want you over. I sure my mom will want me to call her when I get to the hotel so," Oscar kind of trails off not really being able to find the right words to what he's saying.

"I'll hide in the bathroom while she calls," I say with a small smile making a sign of relief excape Oscar's lips.

"I also have parents I don't want knowing about this," I say with a laugh making Oscar realize he's not alone in wanting to keep this all under wraps.

When we finally get back to Oscar's hotel room he makes himself comfortable on the bed and gives his mom a ring while I hide in the bathroom.

I spent my time texting Lando letting him rant about how he felt about the race but as soon as I hear the bathroom door open I put my phone down and look up to find Oscar making his way into the bathroom.

I'm sitting on the bathroom counter which is perfect for Oscar to quickly slots himself between my spread thighs while pulling me closer into him.

"Good chat?" I ask softly making Oscar nod before pulling me even closer to him before pulling me in for a soft kiss. He quickly deepens the kiss pulling me into his arms and walking the both of us towards the bedroom where he quickly plops me down on the bed before pulling off the flimsy dress I was wearing leaving me in my matching bra and panties.

"Look so pretty," Oscar says while pulling at the string of my thong before letting it snap back against my skin making me whimper.

Oscar quickly pulls his phone out and snaps a few pictures making my cheeks heat slightly but trusting him enough that they would be for 'his' eyes only.

Once Oscar gets a few more pictures he tosses his phone somewhere out of sight before he's pulling off his shirt letting me see his toned chest.

I quickly wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull his body down on top of mine letting my nails trail his back while his mouth starts exploring my jaw and neck.

"So pretty," Oscar mumbles into my skin making me giggle at the way his breath tickled my skin. When his mouth finds my sweet spot I let out a small whine when I feel his teeth sink into my skin leaving a small hickey behind.

I can feel Oscar leaving a small trail of hickeys down my neck and towards my bra covered tits where he quickly unclips the back of my bra and discarding it somewhere across the room before he attaches his mouth to my hardened nipple.

"Osc," I moan softly when I feel his tongue start twirling around the sensitive bud. I feel Oscar softly tugging on the barbell through my nipple making me whimper at the stimulation.

"Sound so pretty," Oscar mumbles before trailing his mouth to my other nipple and giving it the same treatment as the previous one. Once both of my nipples are standing at attention from Oscar's mouth he pulls my panties down my legs and tosses them somewhere along with the rest of my discarded clothes.

When I feel Oscar's mouth near my core I can't help but try and pull him closer to where I need him the most which only has him pulling back and sending a harsh slap to my inner thigh.

"Ow! Oscar," I cry out in a loud whine making Oscar look up at me with a smirk before leaning down and kissing my lips softly.

"Patience," Oscar whispers before leaning back down near my core but instead of bringing his mouth to where I need him he starts trailing soft kisses all along my inner thighs and even leaving a few small hickeys behind before I finally feel his tongue softly start exploring my folds making me whimper.

The more Oscar's tongue explores my soaked folds the tighter my grip on his hair gets making me pull his hair trying to bring him closer to where I need him the most.

"Fuck," Oscar groans when I pull his hair hard enough making me whimper at the vibrations his voice sent straight to my core.

"More please," I beg wiggling my hips trying to bring Oscar's mouth to my throbbing clit.

"Ah! Yes," I whine when I finally feel Oscar's tongue lightly graze over my clit before moving his mouth back to my inner thigh making me whimper at the loss of contact.

"Oscar! Stop teasing," I cry out only making him pull back and slap my inner thigh once again.

"Let me enjoy watching you fall apart for me," Oscar whispers with a smirk before leaning down and spitting directly onto my clit and using a few fingers to roughly rub it into my clit giving me the stimulation I had been chasing but being far too rough to give me true pleasure.

"Osc, please," I whine again. This time Oscar leans down slightly placing a soft kiss on my sensitive clit before pulling it into his mouth making me sign in relief from the stimulation which quickly turns into a soft scream when his teeth sink into my clit.

"Oscar!" I cry when I feel him biting down onto my clit and tugging is before releasing.

"I said patience," Oscar teasing in a sing song voice before flicking my nipple piercing making me jump at the stimulation.

When Oscar finally climbs off the bed I see him pulling the rest of his clothes off, making me bite my lip softly when I see his already hard length.

Oscar climbs back into bed and quickly rolls a condom on making me bite my lip making me realize he's finally gonna give me the stimulation I was looking for.

When I feel the tip of Oscar's fat cock nudging at my clit I can't help the moan that falls from my lips.

"Beg for it," Oscar's smug voice rings out breaking me out of my lust induced haze to find him looking down at me with a smirk.

"Please," my voice weakly rings out in the room while I bring my hand down to his cock trying to get him to push his cock in.

"Greedy little thing," Oscar says with a smirk while pulling his hips back so I'm no longer touching his cock.

"Oscar God damn in, I need you to fuck me," I finally snap at the Aussie making him look down at me with a raised brow.

"Please," I add weakly.

Oscar wastes no time slamming his hips into mine filling me up with his cock and thrusting not giving me any time to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," I cry out when Oscar start thrusting directly into my G-spot.

I feel Oscar's arms wrap around my legs and pull them over his shoulders before leaning down and fucking me at a new angle.

"You take my cock so well," Oscar grunts out before placing a soft kiss on my lips while I moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, too much," I cry out when I can already feel an orgasm starting to build.

"Too. Much?" Oscar says while slowing down his thrusts but making sure to thrust into me roughly with each word.

"You were just crying for this? No?" Oscar teases before picking up his thrusts again and fucking into my soaked pussy even harder.

"I'm gonna cum," I cry out when Oscar continues to fuck me not letting his pace slow down in the slightest.

"I don't care, I'm not done fucking you," Oscar roughly tells me, making sure I know this is about his pleasure.

When I fall over the edge for the first time I can't help but squirt all over Oscar and I but it does nothing to slow him down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cry in a chant as he continues to fuck me harder not giving me any time to come down from my high only throwing me instantly into another orgasm.

"Oscar!" I cry out through my second orgasm of the night. Instead of Oscar acknowledging me he quickly pulls out of my overly abused pussy and quickly flipping me over so I'm on all fours before pushing back into the gummy walls of my pussy.

"Fuck!" I cry when Oscar starts fucking me just as rough in a new angle hitting me in all different spots.

"So good," Oscar grunts letting the grip he has on my hips tighten before he takes one hand and slaps my ass as hard as he can,

"Fuck," I cry out when the pain of his spank finally registers through all the pleasure.

"Fuck, you're gonna cum again," Oscar points out when he can feel me clenching around him.

When Oscar starts slapping my ass and fucking into my pussy I fall over the edge again making me cry out.

"I can't!" I cry when I can feel Oscar starting to fuck me harder through my third orgasm.

When I can feel the overstimulation start to take course I can't help the tears that start to stream down my face.

"Give me one more," Oscar grunts out while taking my hair into his fist and pulling me up so my back is flush with his chest while he continues to fuck into my overworked pussy.

"Oscar," I cry out as the tears continues to stream down my face while his thrusts don't slow down into he slightest.

"Come on, one more," Oscar teases trying to coax me through my finale orgasm.

When Oscar pulls my hair even tighter exposing my neck even more he sinks his teeth into my shoulder while freeing his hand from my hair and bringing it to my throat giving it a squeeze.

"Fuck," I gasp through my cries while falling over the edge while Oscar continues to softly choke me. I can feel the waves of my orgasm only intensify as Oscar slowly chokes me harder with each passing second.

"Good girl," Oscar grunts while quickly pulling his cock from my pussy and pulling me by my hair to get on my knees where Oscar quickly pulls the condom off and shoves his dick into my mouth.

"Fuck," Oscar grunts as he slowly starts fucking my face allowing me to adjust to his size before he starts to pick up the pace making me gag around his length.

"Take me so good," Oscar grunts when his hips start to falter in pace slightly letting me know he was getting close to finishing.

"Fuck," Oscar grunts out before shoving his cock deep into my throat and starting to cum filling my mouth with his cum before pulling out and jerking the rest of his load all over my face.

I quickly swallow the cum he left in my mouth before opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue to allow Oscar to finish painting my face while trying to catch some of the load with my tongue.

"Fuck, such a good whore," Oscar grunts while one final rope lands on my tongue.

Oscar takes roughly 10 seconds to gather himself before he's pulling me off my knees and into his arms where he takes us into his hotel bathroom and placing me back on the counter.

"Did so good for me," Oscar says while taking a clean rag and getting it wet with warm water while slowly starting to wipe his excess cum off my face.

I allow Oscar to continue to softly wipe my face in silence before I finally lean down and pull him in for a soft kiss.

"Was that a good way to celebrate?" I ask softly with a small smile playing on my lips when I pull away from the kiss.

"The best way," Oscar tells me softly before pulling me back in for another kiss.

When Oscar pulls away from the kiss he turns his attention to the shower where he turns it on letting it warm up.

When the steam has finally filled the bathroom from the hot shower Oscar pulls me back into his arms and brings the both of us into the shower where I instantly relax into his arms letting the hot water relax my sore muscles.

"Was I too rough?" Oscar asks softly making me lift my head from his shoulder and look him in the eye.

"No, and you better not tell anyone but I think you just fucked me better than anyone else ever has," I admit with a smile tugging on my lips.

"That's bragging rights! I don't think I can keep that a secret," Oscar teases but I can still tell he's worried.

"I mean it Oscar! It was perfect, and there's a safe word if it really was too much," I tell him with softly running my fingers through his wet hair.

I can see him relaxing into my touch which makes me smile.

"Sorry if I left any visible marks," Oscar says sheepishly when he notices a few of the hickeys he's left behind.

"For a maiden win, there's no rules," I saw with a smile and a shrug. It takes Oscar roughly 10 seconds to realize no rules means he could fuck me with no protection.

"Fuck, you would let me?" Oscar asks looking me directly in the eye.

"I'm clean, and up to date on my birth control. I think it's safe to assume you're also clean," I say softly getting nervous at the idea I was pitching.

"Hey, if you don't want to we don't have to. Don't feel pressured," Oscar says when he starts to pick up on my energy shift.

"No, I do! I guess I just didn't know how you would feel," I admit softly making Oscar smile down at me.

"I would love to fill that pussy of yours up with my cum," Oscar says with a smirk making me smile and pull him down for a kiss.

I was expecting Oscar to become rough once again but this time he slowly pulls one of my legs ups to wrap around his waist while I feel him softly teasing my still soaked folds with his hard cock.

I whimper into the kiss when I feel him start to push into my still sore pussy.

"Can you go one more?" Oscar asks softly making me whimper and nod my head.

"Words," Oscar tells me sternly making me look him in the eye and verbally confirm that I wanted him to fuck me.

"Fuck," Oscar groans when he continues to push the rest of his length deep into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.

"Oscar!" I moan out as he starts to slowly thrust his cock in and out of my sensitive pussy.

"Take me so well," Oscar groans as he slowly starts to speed up his thrusts making sure to hit my G-spot with each thrust.

"Feels so good," I gasp throwing my head back exposing my neck enough for Oscar to drop his mouth and start leaving small scattered kisses all alone my neck.

"I'm not gonna last," Oscar gasps speeding up his hips even more clearly chasing the same release I was chasing.

"I'm close," I whine while bringing my hand between our bodies and lightly teasing my clit while Oscar continues to fuck into me bringing both of us closer to cumming.

"Cum for me," Oscar groans softly making me fall over the edge and pulling him with me.

"Oh shit!" Oscar grunts while still pumping his hips into my pussy. During the waves of my orgasm I can feel Oscar's cum being pumped into my pussy making me whimper.

"So good," I whine out starting to come down from my high once again.

"Did so good," Oscar mumbles while softly pulling out and letting my leg rest of the ground so I can now stand on my own.

"So good for me," Oscar continues to mumble while starting to clean me up.

It was clear that no matter how rough or gentle Oscar fucked he would always spend the next several minutes praising and cleaning up. I couldn't help but blush under his praise and when we were finally cleaned up and helped me dress into one of his shirts before getting the both of us comfortable in his bed.

[bananayuyu]

just friends (1)

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 10.4k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, blurred lines around consent, non-negotiated stuff, face slapping, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation

a/n: should I write more for them? I'm kinda invested now, and I have thoughts. lmk <33

read it on ao3

Soft, hazy light floated in through the window, the slowly falling snow coating the sky and buildings outside. Downtown the streets were empty, only a handful of cars driving their way through the grey streets, not a face or head to be found anywhere in the cold, dry air.

In the short few moments of waking you were completely disoriented, used to the bright hot sun waking you sharply in the early afternoon, your morning. The gentle light reminded you of night, of those long summer days when you tucked into bed just as the sun was rising. It was a comforting light, but one that made you sleepy, and the air was colder than it should have been in the desert, this late January day.

You closed your eyes, pushing back under the covers, shifting over to San's side of the bed and wiggling your way under his arm. A groan followed; he hated being bothered when he was trying to get his all important rest, and you knew that, but the air was too damn cold in his room, and you couldn't stand it.

"Baby," he whispered, moving his head to kiss you on the cheek, before gently trying to extract your limbs from his body. You whined; the loss of contact made you shiver, and your naked body felt exposed even under his thick comforter, your feet so cold you were sure you could barely feel them. "Don't do that," he sighed, but you whined again, wrapping yourself around him a second time. "Baby, seriously-" he was cut off by you climbing over him, legs straddling his hips as you rested your head next to his on his pillow.

"It's cold," you sniffled, making it almost sound like you were crying, and fuck did that do things to him, things he couldn't explain. Already he could feel his cock twitch; your naked body wrapped around his, plush thighs pushing down on the sides of his hips and abdomen, your hot breath on his ear. It couldn't have been more than a few hours ago since you were in this exact position, screaming and crying his name as you came undone, and he couldn't stop replaying it, especially as you wiggled around on top of him, your thigh crazing his cock more than once and only adding to his arousal.

"Baby, I need sleep," he chided, trying to do what he knew he should, trying to be responsible. But he could never be responsible when it came to you; that was the problem. You drove him insane, had him wrapped around you so tightly, it would take the strength of a thousand men to pull him free.

"But I'm cold," you whined, snuggling more. You were still barely awake; last night had been a particularly crazy shift at the bar, and after pulling apart five fighting girls and dancing an extra two numbers to cover for your sick coworker, your body was grasping for every bit of rest it could find.

"You're pissing me off," he grunted below you, hands holding your hips firmly in place so you'd stop moving, stop making his body react in ways he so badly wished he could control.

"Ow," you dramatically whined, pretending those hands gripping into you felt anything but delicious and tantalizing. Heat was shooting through you now, his low, angry voice in your ear, and without even noticing your mind had already slipped into it's lustful, edgy space, one that it always seemed to drift to when he was around.

"So fucking dramatic," he sighed, still holding your hips hard, trying desperately to stop you. But your body had a mind of its own, and even if you'd wanted to stop it you wouldn't have been able. Your hips ground down onto his, as much as they could with him limiting you, and you felt the hard length of his cock under your right thigh, shifting yourself slightly to rub it up and down the length of your slit.

Immediately you both groan, the feeling electric. The room was still so dim, both of you still so sleepy, but your bodies woke themselves up; there was nothing either of you could do to stop it.

"Stop it," San growled in your ear, but you couldn't. It felt too fucking good when the tip of his now rock hard length hit your clit. His hands shifted up to your waist, trying what he could to limit you there. But it only freed up your hips more, and immediately you pushed them down even harder, nearly accidentally slipping him inside you.

"I said, stop," he spat, grabbing your hips again and lifting them off him slightly, making your movements awkward. You kept grinding, trying to find some friction somewhere, whining at the lack of it.

"Baby," he said again, trying to get your attention. "Are you not fucking listening??"

"Mmghfm," you mumbled beside him, pushing yourself up by your arms a bit to try to get leverage for your hips. You wanted to push them down again, hump the length of his cock till you couldn't move. But San had other plans, his anger boiling up so quickly he had little time to think. As your face rose above his he took his right hand from your hip, reaching up and slapping you hard, all breath leaving your lungs in shock. Grabbing your neck with the same hand, he moved you face to face with him, staring deep into your eyes and squeezing down ever so slightly.

"I said stop, did you not fucking hear me?!" he spat, an almost crazed expression on his face. You gulped; you'd never seen him quite like this, and he'd never done that before, that being physically striking you. You wondered for a moment in the haze of your head if it was okay, what was happening; but all the same you felt your pussy clench hard, the ghost of an orgasm washing over your core even if nothing was touching you down there.

"Are you trying to fucking piss me off?!" he continued, your blank expression giving him nothing. It was so unclear to him sometimes what the hell you wanted; him, not him, nothing at all, everything? He could only give you so much, and he knew deep down it was never enough for you. But sometimes you stared at him so blank, like now, as if you didn't have a care in the world. As if none of it mattered, not him, not life, nothing. His grip on your neck wouldn't cease; he couldn't find it in himself to let up, because last night he'd specifically asked to be left alone, desperately needing the rest that you'd been so selfishly stealing from him all month.

"Sannie, please-" you tried to grab at his hand on your neck, but it only made him squeeze harder, your head feeling light in an instant. "San, san-" you were pleading now, tears actually brimming in your eye, genuine panicked tears that did nothing to make him feel bad for you. They only shot right down to his cock, already hard and leaking, and he lost his head completely, giving in entirely to the feelings inside.

He flipped you over in an instant; the comforter was nearly thrown off the bed, still draped over only half of your joined bodies, the cold making goose bumps rise on your arms, your nipples peaked sharply. His hand was still on your throat, and now he held you down onto his pillow, lining himself up as fast as he could and slamming into you hard, making you call out in shock and pain and pleasure.

He'd had it with you, with always doing what you wanted, always waiting around for when you wanted it. He was taking what he wanted now; using you just for his own pleasure, in a way he knew he'd completely regret later, a way that was unfair, disrespectful, unkind. He knew it, even then as he slammed into you stroke after stroke, the lewd noises of skin slapping filling his room, but he couldn't stop himself. He felt too good, too powerful. He felt like he was taking something that was his to take, that he'd been holding back from for an eternity. He was surprised he'd managed to wait this long.

And how was he supposed to hate himself for doing this when the look on your face screamed pure bliss? You were so wet, your cunt flushed and ready for him, and even though your moans sounded twinged with fear, he knew you were fucking loving this. He was hitting your cervix repeatedly, and your legs were shaking uncontrollably as you came, the feeling barely reaching your head with the lack of oxygen. You body had never felt better; writhing and struggling against him was getting you nowhere, of course, but you'd always seemed to fall easily into fighting with him. You'd never done it in this way, so physically, but it felt right all the same.

You came two times in quick succession; as he flipped you over he saw a wet patch on his sheets, a dark chuckle exiting his mouth. He shoved your face down into his pillow, pulling your ass up towards him. The bun you'd put your hair in last night hung slightly to the side, messed up by your night of sleep, smalls strands escaping and hanging messily around your neck and cheeks. He grabbed onto it, fingers lacing through your hair as he slammed back into you again, your moans even more desperate and pathetic as you tried to make sense of it all.

It only took a few hard strokes for you to come again, the angle so deep you felt like you were being ripped open from inside. Trembling and spasming around him, San felt fucking amazing, dropping your head to place both hands on your hips and fucking you harder than he ever had, his head thrown back in disbelief and pleasure.

He came hard, the feeling shuddering through him, the muscles of his stomach clenching hard. There were tears and snot covering your face, now cum dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out, letting your body slump hard against the bed. He quickly pulled the covers over you both, collapsing beside you, your bodies sticky with sweat and already shivering. But despite the frigid air, the sex had taken it out of you; you both fell into a deep slumber within minutes.

When you woke again, it was to San's hand running through your hair.

"Hey, it's 4:30," he whispered, but there was urgency to his tone, because he knew just how bad this was.

It took you a moment to wake up, yawning and stretching in the warmth of his bed, stickiness still clinging to your skin. "What do you mean, 4:30?" you asked, the light in the room even dimmer than it was the last time you woke.

"4:30pm," he sighed, holding his phone screen to you.

"Fuck, fuck," you muttered, jumping up, nearly sprinting to his bathroom to relieve your screaming bladder. You were supposed to be to work in fifteen minutes, which you knew was not going to happen; still, you were determined not to be too late. You could text your boss any number of excuses, and were sure she'd forgive you. You were one of her more reliable employees, and she'd let this shit slide with you before. But you'd tried not to make a habit of it, even if sometimes you got caught up in the things in life that really made your heart happy. Your art, your friends, the boy you were fucking. Your work was chaotic; never the same day to day, and the rest of your life had to follow suit. It was just a part of this work, this life you'd chosen for yourself. You wouldn't give it up for anything.

With a quick swipe of a damp towel you washed your crotch, wiping free as much of the remnants of your frenzied fuck earlier as you could. You didn't have time to think of it now, frantically pulling out your hair tie and brushing your hair with your fingers, splashing water in your face to freshen up. You'd have to slap on some makeup at work today, which should be fine if everyone else showed up for their shifts on time. There was always some performer or server running in late, always someone in the dressing room begging to borrow makeup or bobby pins or hair spray. You tried not to let that be you, but shit happened. For some god forsaken reason you'd slept in so late, and it pissed you off even if you tried to not care.

Busting out of the bathroom you ran over to your bag, flipping through to check that you still had your makeup, wallet, keys. You grabbed for the clothes you had set out for yourself yesterday, slipping on the loose sweats and one of San's hoodies, not even bothering with a bra or underwear. You hoped the clothes would stop your shivering, but the room was shockingly cold still, and seemed only to be getting colder.

"Do you have any long socks I can borrow?" you asked San, picking up your head and finally actually looking at him, his face a confusing mixture of concerned and distant. He reached into his dresser and tossed you some, black and thick and definitely too big. But you'd need them today for your short walk, if the temperature inside was any indication. You snatched your phone off his bedside table now, pulling up the chat with your boss, shooting off a quick and uninspired text. I'm running a few minutes late today, I needed some extra rest after last night.

No problem, I'm sure everyone's running late cause of the snow. See you soon, she responded.

"Snow..?" you asked to the room, almost forgetting where you were.

"Yeah," San sighed, staring past you out the window, his 10th floor apartment giving a stunning view of the frigid city outside.

"Fuck," you muttered, shaking your head. You were planning on walking the only five blocks to the bar, like you always did. It never saved any time to get an uber or take the subway.

"Do you have to go?" he asked.

"Um, of course," you replied, looking in his direction with furrowed brows.

"The weather is awful, can't you just stay home for a night? Do they really need you...?" he drifted off, running a hand through his hair and sighing hard.

It was he, now, who must have wanted to piss you off.

"Just cause I don't work a 9 to 5, 100k salaried job, doesn't mean I'm not important at work," you snapped, moving to your bag again to put your phone inside, zipping the top closed.

"I didn't say-"

"I know, but I know what you're thinking. But the thing is, on days with shitty weather more people come into the bars and clubs and shit. So I'm very much needed tonight. Especially with Tina still sick. I have to go," you bit out, a deep sigh of your own escaping you.

"You're gonna freeze out there," he mumbled, eyes tracing the shape of you.

"I'll be fine," you sighed, shaking your head, but you feared it yourself. It was only five blocks, but you had no coat with you, no gloves or hat or scarf. And your trusty sneakers might not fare so well in this weather; you'd never tried wearing them in snow, because it hadn't snowed on a day you worked in years.

"I-" San started, hands resting on his hips. You noticed now, finally, as you set your packed bag by the door to his living room, that he was still naked.

"You're gonna freeze in here if you don't put on some clothes," you said, looking at him confused.

"Y/n, we need to talk," he sighed, turning around to face you head on, his beautiful body lit in shadows by the faint light of the room.

"That sounds serious," you joked, looking down to your bag again. "But I gotta go, I'm sorry." You grabbed it, slipping it over your shoulder, turning towards his bedroom door to open it.

"No, please, baby, I need say this now," he replied, walking behind you to hold the door closed, caging you in with his body.

"San, what?" you huffed, frustration bubbling in your throat.

"Was what just happened, you know, okay?" He stumbled over his words slightly, hot breath coming out of his mouth and fanning past your ear.

"Yes? What- why are you asking me that?" you replied, turning around to face him with a bewildered look.

"I just, I fucking slapped you and chocked you and- we've never talked about it, I-"

"It was fine," you muttered, turning yourself around again to exit.

"No, don't give me that," he responded, hand back on the door to keep you from leaving.

"Stop, let me go," you spat, trying to push against him.

"Y/n," he growled, his own frustration clear in his tone.

"I'm gonna be late," you replied, still not looking at him.

"It was fine?? Fine?? That's what you're fucking saying to me?!" he nearly yelled, smacking his hand against the door harder than he intended. You jumped, a visceral reaction; you bumped right into the hard wall of his body, nearly causing him to fall.

"Will you stop acting like a fucking man?!" you yelled back, stepping away from him and the door, catching your balance against the wall a few feet away.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he sighed, shaking his head, looking at you with upturned eyebrows.

"Get a hold of yourself," you said, softer, looking him up and down. "And put on some damn clothes, it's freezing."

You stayed put as he did, pulling on an outfit almost exactly matching yours, sweats and a hoodie. The air was tense between you now, not that it hadn't been almost the entire time you'd known him. But you'd never seen him lose control of his composure quite like this. You weren't scared, because with him you couldn't be; you were pretty sure you'd never be truly mad at him, even if he treated you in ways that made him deserve it. But he really never did, that's why you trusted him; you didn't know it on the surface, nor even three of four layers down, but buried deep within the depths of yourself there was a part of you that had marked him as safe, as good.

If you'd ever take the time to sit down and talk to that part, maybe you'd understand yourself better, the changes in you the past year. But instead you continued to throw yourself into your creative work, as you always did, cause it always worked for you before.

"How are you not shivering in here?" you finally asked, biting at a hangnail on your middle finger. Your whole interaction with him had left you a shaking mess, and you felt like you couldn't move from your spot, eyes glued to him and his every movement.

"I don't run cold, like you," he responded, moving to his closet without looking at you. Out of it he pulled a large navy blue jacket you'd never seen; a true winter coat, you realized. It was long enough to probably reach down to your ankles if you wore it, puffy and thick, clearly very warm. He then reached into a shelf in the closet, pulling down a pair of gloves and a black beanie, turning around to walk back to you.

"Come here, let me put these on you," he said, throwing the jacket and gloves on his bed, pulling the beanie over your messy hair.

"I can do it," you grumbled quietly, reaching for he gloves, but he grabbed the jacket, holding it out for you to slip into. Then he squatted all the way to the floor in front of you, zipping up the coat from the bottom, careful at the top not to snag any of your hair in the zipper.

"Thanks," you said. It was flat, and so was your expression, but he knew he was doing the right thing. There was no way you would let him walk you to work; he'd tried convincing you of that many times, only causing argument after argument.

"Are you coming back here tonight?" he asked, standing back and crossing his arms, as you picked up your bag again and moved towards his door.

"No, I'm going and staying at Tina's, we've got so much editing to do," you responded, finally opening the door and stepping into his living room; he followed you quickly, catching up to you.

"Isn't she sick?" he asked.

"Yeah, but we've got to get our current manuscript turned in by Tuesday morning. We have no choice," you answered, walking towards his front door.

"Wait, just give me a minute," he said as you reach for the door knob, hand outstretched in his comically big gloves.

"San-"

"I hate when you don't answer me straight," he says, interrupting you.

"Huh?" you ask, giving him a look of genuine confusion.

"Are you mad at me because of what I did? How rough I was?"

"Do I look mad?" you responded, head turning to the side.

"I hate when you do that," he sighs, shaking his head.

"Do what?" you snap, frustration boiling up again.

"Avoid my questions, give me vague answers," he says, hands on hips.

"I'm running late for work, god, I'm in a fucking rush! Why the fuck is that hard to understand?!" you scream, hand back on his doorknob in an instant.

"That's not why you're avoiding my questions, and you fucking know it," he replies, walking over to his kitchen. Out of his pantry he grabs chocolate coconut granola bar, your favorite flavor, stalking back to you as you open the door.

"Take this," he says, holding it out to you as you face him, your body halfway into the hall.

"They have food where I work, you know," you drawl, a scowl on your face.

"Not food that you like," he sighs, putting the bar in your pocket himself.

As he stands back up in front of you his face is hard, eyes unreadable and shiny, his hair sticking up lopsided. His hoodie is dwarfing his wide frame, his sweats hanging loose on the lower half of his legs. He looks uncertain, maybe almost scared, nothing like the sharp, glasses-wearing, utterly confident man who'd walked into your bar a year ago, his suit fitted and smooth and his smile easy.

"What if this isn't enough for me?" he said, his hands coming to rest in his pockets.

"Sannie..." trailed off, the urgency of needing to leave still tugging at you.

"I hate when it's like this," he says, sighing.

"Me too," you squeak, tears threatening to come. Your period must be due to arrive any minute, if you're crying that fucking easily. He walks forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead and hugging you tight, before turning you around and beckoning you forward, the rest of your day ahead of you.

"Hey girl, you good?" Sasha asked as you passed by the dressing room, nearly running to put your bag in your locker.

"Yeah, one sec!" you called to her, clumsily undoing your lock, shoving your bag inside. You ripped off your giant puffy coat, hanging it on the hook, desperately flinging off the rest of your clothes and grabbing your dressing gown. Then you unzipped your bag, grabbing your makeup, and rushed back to the dressing room out of breath.

"Did anyone call out?" you asked as soon as your reentered, sitting down next to your favorite coworker, her wig and eye makeup already set.

"No, everyone else is already here, surprisingly," she drawled, leaning closer to the mirror to start her lip liner. "Why are you late, miss thing?"

"I slept till like 4:30, accidentally," you replied, hastily zipping open your makeup bag and grabbing what you'd need for the night. You were covering Tina's number first, a circus inspired routine to Britney Spear's song, and your costume would do most of the work for you. All you needed was lashes, some bright lipstick, and powder, so that the floodlights didn't wash you out completely.

"That's not like you," Sasha said, switching to the other side of her lips, her hand working quickly and methodically to create the perfect line.

"Yeah, I don't know," you replied, with a deep sigh. You couldn't find your lash glue anywhere, and it was stressing you out more than it should have, seeing as there were probably hundreds of tubes of it in the very room in which you sat.

"You okay?" she asked, clicking open her lipstick and screwing it up.

"Just stressed, I hate being late," you said, finally finding the glue at the bottom corner of your bag.

"Julie moved Tina's number, so you're not on until after Jax," she replied, turning her head in every direction to check her finished face.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, your normal tone slipping into flatness again, as you shakily put glue onto the lashes you'd use for tonight.

"Girl, seriously, you good?" Sasha asked, turning to face you entirely.

"I think so," you replied, never able to keep things from her.

"Is it that man you're seeing?" she asked, making you roll your eyes and audibly scoff, sighing deeply.

"How fucking typical of me," you responded, shaking your head.

"What did he do?" she asked you, chin coming to rest on her hand.

"Nothing, just, he's the reason I'm late, that I overslept," you said, and suddenly the memory of everything that had happened just hours before wouldn't leave you. It especially wouldn't leave your body, the memory of your limbs and muscles of your core replaying it for you, as if that was something you needed right now.

"Well, well, well, I hope the sex is good still, at least," Sasha replied, with a brief chuckle. "It's still that same guy, right, the businessman?"

"He's in tech, Sash," you said, leaning forward yourself to place your lashes carefully.

"Oh, boo, they all look the same. Coming in here in those ridiculous suits. I always wonder how much they cost, probably more than my entire wardrobe," she laughed, shaking her head.

"I know, it's ridiculous," you sighed, but just then a bit of guilt ran through you as you thought of San's apartment, and of the trip you took to wine country in the fall, of all the fancy outings and luxuries you've been able to experience on his dime.

"He isn't hurting you or anything, is he honey? I know you said you fight a lot, but it hasn't turned physical, right?" she asked now, and immediately you could tell she read something was off in your last response. She really had a way of doing that, not just with you but with everyone, and it could feel really damn exposing.

"No, no, nothing like that. Things were just weird earlier," you sighed, not wanting to elaborate. "We bicker a lot but like, in a fun way. Earlier it was, I don't know, just fucking weird. I don't know why it's stressing me out, we're just friends."

"Friendships can be the messiest of all relationships, don't you think?" Sasha responded, and you looked over to her, only one lash on. She was just a few years older than you, but sometimes you felt like she was your fairy godmother, or a beautiful genie who'd escaped into the world. She was too wise for you; in comparison to her you were a little larvae, still barely developed at all. "You tell me if anything really bad happens, okay hon? I can't have anyone mistreating you," she said, standing from her stool and wrapping her dress around herself, tying the tassels on the side.

"You know I would, I couldn't keep it from you if I tried," you said, leaning towards the mirror to do your other lash.

"Okay, good. I'll have to leave you soon, I think," she replied, sighing and leaning down to place an air kiss by your cheek.

"Okay, break a leg," you responded, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Sasha, Bibi is almost done!" comes a call from down the hall, and soon Ilya, the stage manager, was sticking his head through the open door, beckoning her.

"Yes, darling, I'm coming," she said, sauntering out of the room, leaving you alone in the tiny room, with nothing but your reflection for company.

Tina's number went well, just as it had last night; it was more dance focused than any of your recent acts, but you enjoyed the opportunity to move your body more. It had been dance, first, that attracted you to the stage, and though you'd found so many other avenues to express yourself creatively over the years, you missed it. You wrote so much now; songs for others, for yourself, and of course the musical you and Tina had been slaving over for six months, desperately hoping that this could be the thing to finally break you into the world of show business.

The walk to Tina's apartment was easy, too, just as your walk earlier had been. The streets were cold and the snow was still falling, but the breeze was blowing everything sideways, and if you stuck to the right side of the buildings you barely felt it at all. It was now almost one in the morning, the downtown streets still empty, but the restaurants and bars were bustling with activity. You stalked up to Tina's building, a huge, grey, nondescript mass of concrete, and buzzed your way up. Her key sat on your chain right next to yours; a bright green sticker stuck to it so you could tell them apart.

When you entered she was laying flat on the couch, her laptop perched in front of her face, the only light in the room.

"Hey," she mumbled when she saw you, your makeup still on, hair in a rough bun again, San's jacket dwarfing you entirely.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you asked, taking the two steps it took to reach her. The place was tiny, and she shared it with her girlfriend Maya, who had the beginnings of what might be a hoarding habit. There wasn't an inch of free space, save for some of the floor. Even that had stacks of books on it, boxes of half finished art projects, and more plants than one could count.

"Fucking terrible," she muttered, and you went to turn on the one lamp by their tiny kitchen so you could get a good look at her.

"Oh gosh, you look miserable," you said as you sat down next to her, her cheeks flushed so red, her eyes glossy with past tears.

"I keep throwing up," she said, staring over at the glass of water on the coffee table beside her. "I can barely keep down water."

"You said you just had a little cold," you scolded, placing your hand on her forehead, her skin fiery under your palm.

"I didn't want y'all to worry," she said, voice small.

"Is Maya sick too?" you asked.

"Yeah, but not quite as bad as me. She hasn't puked yet," Tina replied.

"You definitely have a fever, it feels bad," you said, taking your hand to feel her neck and chest too. "You should go to urgent care if you can't keep anything down."

"You know I'm not gonna fucking do that unless I'm literally dying," she replied, eyeing you.

"I know it's expensive, but it's your health, Titi," you said.

"I'm not going," she said, her words final.

"Have you been taking Tylenol? Or Ibuprofen? Drinking fluids, eating well, resting?" you asked.

"I'm trying. We ran outta Tylenol earlier today."

"I'll go get you some more," you sighed, opening your phone. "The Walgreens at the corner just closed, shit. It says they open at 6am tomorrow, I'll go get you some as soon as I wake up."

"Thank you honey," she responded, tears welling in her eyes.

"You gonna be okay?" you asked, looking down at her.

"Yeah, yeah, I just need to get some sleep. Maya was sleeping so soundly, I didn't wanna wake her. That's why I came out here. I'll go though, I need the rest," she replied, closing her laptop and placing on the coffee table, sitting herself up. Her face scrunched up in pain, her right hand rubbing at her left shoulder, and you knew she was feeling the aches of a fever.

"I'm worried about you, has it been this bad since Thursday?" you asked as she stood, shakily.

"I'm fine, it's only been the last two days. Don't waste your energy worrying, it'll be okay," she said, crossing the room towards her bedroom. "Goodnight," she said as she turned her head to you, before carefully opening the door knob to avoid any creaking.

"Feel better," you said, and she nodded at you, disappearing into the other room.

"Hey, you okay?" your twin answered, dozens of voices muffled and choppy coming through in the background.

"Yeah, sorry, I know you're at work, do you have like two minutes?" you responded, sighing in the darkness of Tina's living room. It was now almost two a.m., but you were pretty sure Micah was working nights this weekend, and you'd be able to catch her. Thankfully, you were right.

"I'm supposed to go take a break soon anyway, so yeah, lemme get out of here," she responded, the sounds of the hospital echoing and changing as she began walking down the hall to the break room.

"Okay," you said, waiting for the noice to die down. Then, once it did, "It's my friend Tina, she's really sick and I just don't know how serious it is. She said she hasn't been able to keep any food down all day, and she's been sick since Thursday."

"She got the flu?" your sister asked through the phone.

"I don't know, it's something. She had a bad fever when I got home, she just went to bed. She looked so bad though, and was hobbling around like an old lady. She was in so much pain."

"How bad's her fever?" she asked you.

"I don't know, we didn't test it," you sighed, knowing what was coming.

"Y/n...."

"I know, sorry, it was dumb for me to even call. I just wasn't sure what to do, it freaked me out..."

The line hung quiet for a moment, but you could hear her breathing, and it sounded almost labored.

"Does she have a thermometer?" she asked, and you stumbled up to the bathroom, combing through their drawers as quietly as you could.

"It doesn't look like it," you sighed, turning off the light as you exited.

"Well go get one tomorrow, and take her temp, and if it's ever 103 or above, take her to urgent care. Or if she can't keep down food again for another day. Try to get fluids in her, if you can. Water, broth, gatorade, tea, whatever she'll take. Of course do Tylenol, or Ibuprofen, or both if she needs it. If her fever isn't too bad, she should be okay, she just needs to rest," she said, the string of sentences coming out fast in a single breath.

"Okay, thank you," you answered her, sighing again. "Don't let me keep you, I know you're busy," you added, not wanting to add any more irritation to her day if you already had. You sometimes found it hard to know what exactly it was about you that irked her, but you always knew there was something. Even if she never said it, even if she always said she loved you, you felt the deep simmer of some other feeling coming from her, ever since you left home. Maybe it was the fact that you called so infrequently now, having done so since you moved for college. When you did call it was almost always something like this. But you couldn't help it; she was the only person you felt sure would always answer you, no matter what was going on between you two. Because that's how she was, that's how she'd always been. She was way more dependable than you, and everyone in your life had shoved that down your throat since you could remember.

"It's okay, tonight's not too crazy thankfully," she responded, her tone neutral. "I've been meaning to call you cause there's something I want to discuss, but I don't think we have the time right now. And I'm assuming you want to get to bed soon," she finished.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I should," you replied.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Well, Monday probably, I gotta catch up on sleep," she said.

"Yeah that's fine, I'll probably just be at home writing," you answered her, sucking in a breath.

"Okay, call me again if your friend gets worse. Or honestly, just take her to urgent care if it seems that bad. Don't chance it with health stuff," she replied, sounding more like your mother than someone your exact same age.

"Okay, I will. Thank you. Love you," you signed off.

"Love you too," she said, and you pulled your phone from your ear, ending the call.

You fell asleep fast and deep on Tina and Maya's couch; you were so used to it by now, over here at least once or twice every week, and the low hum of the refrigerator just feet from you had become a comforting source of consistent noice, drowning out the occasional chaos that accompanied this part of town. You resolved to get medicine for your friends tomorrow, try to make them some food, and then head home to work on the manuscript yourself. Tina was obviously in no place to help you, and if you holed up in your room and really focused, you should be able to finish the editing, no problem. Though you felt uneasy, you fell asleep fast, wrapped up in all three blankets you found draped over the back of the couch.

Early in the morning you were woken by the bang of a door; Tina was running out of her room, stumbling to the bathroom, doubled over the toilet and retching up every little bit of water she'd managed to get down the previous night. The room was so dark; their apartment only had one small window in the kitchen, and they liked to cover it in a little curtain to black out the room at night. Your head ached from the sounds, your body wracked with exhaustion. You grabbed your phone from the table beside you to check the time, squinting painfully at your screen, reading 6:59. It had been a long, long time since you'd been up at this hour, and every time it happened now your body screamed at you. You had your routine down perfectly; asleep by four or five in the morning, awake by noon or one in the afternoon. Last night you'd had little to do, without Tina to keep you awake, so you'd fallen asleep a bit earlier than usual. But still, that had only been a few hours ago. And you were someone who needed eight or nine hours a night, it was non negotiable.

Another painful wretch came from the bathroom; you tried to sit yourself up, your limbs feeling like lead. "Tina, is that you?" you called out, and got a groan in response, and then another empty, painful sounding sound.

"You okay?" you asked, stumbling over in her direction, almost no light to help guide your way.

"I don't know," she murmured, her voice thin and weak, her entire upper body draped over the seat of the toilet.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you said, rubbing her back with your hand, kneeling down next to her.

"You shouldn't be here, I'm gonna get you sick," she squeaked, another heave making her body jerk.

"Don't think about that Titi, I'm here to help you. You're both sick, that fucking sucks," you said, hand still moving over the thin material of her shirt.

Just then you heard a door creak open again, followed by soft footsteps and a deep yawn.

"What's going on?" Maya asked as she entered the bathroom too, the three of you now taking up nearly all of the available space.

"She's still puking," you said, looking up at her, her curly hair flying in every direction, illuminated by their tiny night light.

"Fuck, babe, maybe you should go to the hospital," she said, a hand rubbing over her cheek.

"I don't wanna," Tina squeaked again, breathing slow and steady next to you, her grip on the toilet still severe.

"Tina," Maya said, but she knew as well as you there was no convincing her.

"I'm feeling a little better, I think the wave of nausea has passed," she said beside you, her voice sounding a little stronger.

"How are you doing?" you asked Maya, turning to face her more.

"I actually feel okay, just tired. I haven't gotten this puking at all, for some reason," she said, yawning again. "But I'm fucking wrecked, I feel like I could sleep another eight hours," she said, moving around you to reach down to her girlfriend.

"You should, y'all need rest," you said, giving them space. "I'll go get you guys some more meds and stuff, you both try to get more sleep."

"You don't have to, I know you must be exhausted," she responded, her kind eyes coming up to meet yours.

"Yeah, but I'm not sick like y'all. I'll be fine," you said, stepping out of the bathroom as Tina finally stood, Maya helping her walk to the sink.

"I need to brush my teeth," Tina mumbled, making a disgusted face as the taste of her own mouth, quickly pulling out her toothbrush. In another few moments you helped them both to their room, again feeling over your friend's forehead to see how she was faring. It felt better, a bit, but still warm. But you were so exhausted, your mind still nowhere to be found, and it was hard to feel anything. You left their room, closing the door carefully, and made your way back to the couch. You opened the tiny window in the kitchen; the light was soft, just like yesterday, bits of snow still falling through the sky. Their apartment was on the third floor, and closer to the ground you could see the snow collecting in the gutters, on the dead patches of grass, on the tops of the awnings lining the street.

You tried to pull on your shoes, zip up your coat, get yourself ready to face the air. But with the weather and your lack of sleep you just couldn't muster the courage, even as you knew your close friend was suffering so badly, and wouldn't accept any help unless you all but shoved it down her throat. The idea sprung in your mind, and you pushed it away at first; no way should you ask him for such a big favor, even if you could be pretty sure he was awake. Even if he was the only person you knew in this city who was guaranteed to be awake right now. You'd left his apartment in such a strange place only fifteen hours ago, and since then ignored the one text he'd sent. Please be careful, it's probably icy out there.

You hadn't meant to ignore him, but you were always off your phone during work. He knew that. And when you'd arrived here last night, things had been hectic. Tina was sick, and you were exhausted. Surely he'd understand? Of course he would. He always did. And as you shivered in your sweats and hoodie, in his hoodie, you thought, fuck it.

The call rang and rang, and when he didn't answer you quickly ended it, smacking your phone onto the stack of books beside you. Something like anger lanced through you, followed by hot, sickly shame, bubbling up from the pit of your stomach and making you feel nauseous. You didn't know why you'd expected him to answer, and now you knew you'd have to be a fucking big girl and go get the damn medicine yourself. You felt ridiculous for having called him; even more so for feeling angry at him not picking up. He didn't owe you anything, especially after last night, and besides, you always went days without seeing him or talking to him, anyway. Tears of frustration threatened to come, and you made a mental note to pick up some pads at the store too. You'd definitely be needing those soon.

But as you stood you saw your phone lighting up again; he was calling back, only a minute later, and you snatched it up to your ear after hitting answer.

"Hey," you said, voice groggy and whiny coming through the phone.

"You okay?" he asked, his own voice low and grumbly.

"Yeah, sorry, I don't want to bug you, but Tina is like really sick and she's run out of all her Tylenol and stuff, and I know the Walgreens that's just down the corner at 4th should have it, I just don't know if I can make it down there right now. I'm fucking dead." The words spilled out of you, a deluge of exhaustion and worry and desperation.

"You want me to go get some for you?" he asked, sighing in clear annoyance, even if he was trying to cover it up.

"Maybe," you answered, an almost whine, pushing the palm of your hand into your right eye socket, trying to alleviate some of the pain you felt there.

"What else do you need?" he asked, and you heard the beep of his tea kettle through the phone.

"Uh, a thermometer, if they have it, and something for her stomach too maybe, cause she keeps throwing up. And she needs fluids, so like gatorade, or something, whatever they have," you answer, trying desperately to remember every little thing your sister had told you last night.

"Okay, I can be there in probably like twenty minutes, that okay?" he asked.

"Okay," you sighed through he phone, a tiny bit of relief hitting your system.

"No thank you?" he asked, chuckling, but it stabbed right through your heart.

"San-" you started, taking a deep breath. You weren't going to let something so little trip you over the edge into arguing. "Yes, sorry, thank you. I really appreciate it. I'm just really worried about Ti, but she won't go to urgent care you know, cause she doesn't have insurance, and I'm just so out of it, and it's snowing-"

"Baby, I know. I'll be there soon," he said, cutting you off.

"Sorry," you said, taking in a breath to keep yourself from rambling again.

"See you soon," he said, before ending the call, your phone still stuck to your ear when he did.

When he arrived it was with more than you had requested. A huge bottle of Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Aleve and Motrin were in the bag, along with anti-nausea meds, gatorade, vitamin water, saltines, two different kinds of thermometers, and some plain applesauce. You sat in a stunned silence looking at it all, still barely awake on the couch. After letting him in you'd collapsed back on it, nearly passing out as he rubbed soft circles on the small of your back. You didn't know how much time passed; but then Maya had woken, opening the door, and the two of you shot apart quickly, like two opposing ends of a magnet.

She was eternally grateful for the care package he'd brought, and assured you that she was feeling much better, and could take care of Tina just fine. She beckoned you to leave; she too was worried you had already caught something from them, and told you to go home and rest, get some more sleep, and again thanked you for coming over. As you and San left she was brewing some coffee, and the familiar smell of your friends' apartment was back to normal, making it easier for you to leave.

As you walked the hall to the elevator you noticed his gaze; taking in the dirty carpet, and the bullet hole in the side of the mirror. Yes, you'd had to tell him, someone did shoot their gun into the side of the elevator on New Year's. He tried to keep his face neutral, but you could see the shock and worry and confusion written all over it, just in the tiny twitches of his eyebrows and crinkles by his eyes. Again, it almost made you feel sick; you'd seen the look he'd given your friend's living room when he'd first walked in, staring from wall to wall as if he couldn't believe how small it was. Their whole place was probably the size of his bedroom alone; he was rich, how rich you didn't know, but he had a giant apartment and nice clothes, friends with big houses and not a care in the world about money.

That was not you, nor your friends. You weren't broke by any means, and certainly knew many people who had it worse. But you all skated by with just slightly more than you needed, trying to save the little extra that you did have. You never knew if you were a novelty to San, because of it; maybe he'd never really known a girl like you, who didn't have all that he had, who got by with just enough and the support of her community, not a huge paycheck or rich parents to fall back on. And maybe if you were honest with yourself, he was the novelty, to you. You'd never known anyone like him, growing up in a town so small it had only one high school. Maybe you were using him for the awe of it all, the chance to see how the other half lived, see into this life everyone seemingly dreamed about. It certainly wasn't what you wanted, but you couldn't deny there were pros. It just made something in you feel so strange, that he obviously felt uncomfortable in that apartment building you'd just exited, the building you felt more at home in than almost anywhere else.

"Woah, hey," he said, as you tripped hard over a crack in the sidewalk, running into him and nearly pitching forward right onto your face. He grabbed you, helping you stand up, and stopped in his tracks, turning towards you.

"Sorry, I'm so fucking exhausted. I need sleep," you said, bags under your eyes proving your point, the gentle snow still falling around you.

"Come to mine, it's closer," he said, and your eyes blinked at him, wide and unsure. His place was technically closer, you thought, from the exact intersection you stood at. Closer by one block. Was this an excuse, a way of trying to get more time with you? You couldn't be sure, staring up at his chin, stubble peaking through.

"Really?" you asked, eyes big and pleading. When he nodded, you continued. "Will you carry me?"

"On my back I will," he said, sighing and shaking his head, almost regretting what he'd just said.

As he walked the blocks to his building the air was surprisingly cold, the two of you clinging to each other for any amount of warmth you could find. You were silent; your breaths were visible in the air, the snow fall less but the temperature more severe it seemed, today. Your head bobbed against his shoulder, arms wrapped round him tightly, and with your legs you could feel the strength of his lungs, expanding his ribcage in and out, in and out, the strength of his body never ceasing to amaze you.

"Will you put me to sleep, when we get home?" you said in his ear, and it might have sounded perfectly innocent to anyone passing by. But San knew what you meant by that, a chuckle escaping him.

"Sure, dear," he responded, and you chuckled too, high-pitched, his grip on your legs tightening. He was supposed to be mad at you, or at least, pressing you to talk to him again about what had happened. He rationalized that it wasn't the right time; you truly did need more sleep, and maybe once you woke rested this afternoon, he could start that conversation. Maybe he'd even have that other conversation with you, the one he knew should have happened a full ten months ago. But as he thought about those serious exchanges he couldn't get the image of what he was about to do to you out of his mind, and even in the frigid air he felt a tightening in his pants, hoping his arousal wasn't too fucking obvious to anyone walking by.

You didn't even notice the freudian slip you'd had, and neither really had he, for it happened so often between you two nowadays. Home. When we get home. That place was a home to you, just like Tina's and Maya's, just like your own little room. San had taken notice when it first started happening, the little mentions making his heart flutter and jump, his gaze soften as he looked at you. You'd never balked afterwards, never gave any indication that you hadn't meant to say things you said.

Home. We. I'd love to. Don't stop. I need you. I want you. Please, Sannie, please.

In his mind, it was all falling into place; he'd played the long game, dated the girl who said we're just friends, and made it a year. She loved him, she obviously did, but she wasn't one who would say something like that so easily. And he was okay with that; he could wait, this last year had proved it. You were slipping now, though; your hard exterior was melting away, the distance you kept between you two shrinking and shrinking more. The bickering had only increased with that, but what couple didn't fight? He was obsessed, he had known that just a month in with you, and there was nothing in the world that could get him to leave, even when his friends and brother mocked him for sticking with you without a label. You're being played, bro. He'd heard it a million times. But they'd never known what it was to be buried inside you, what your skin smelled like, the sounds you made when you trembled and whined. They didn't know how magical you were on that stage, how the room lit up in wonder, how every pair of eyes turned to you and couldn't turn away. They'd never heard you talk about Rocky Horror, or your favorite manga, or all of the productions you'd been in since the age of five; they'd never watched you dance, heard you sing, read the beautiful poetry you'd whip up in minutes. They didn't understand how motivated you were, how brilliant, how utterly perfect for him.

And you had little idea about any of this, too; you were just twenty-three, just a girl in a big city, just someone too passionate about art to do anything else with your time. You didn't see it for yourself, that big successful future. But you kept trying. It didn't even feel like trying; it was just what you wanted, to perform for a crowd of people for work, to spend your free time wrestling your creative energy into stories and songs you actually liked. There wasn't any space for a partner, in all that. You'd told him that. But you'd also started spending the night after your hookups, started calling him for help sometimes. You went on a weekend trip, together. Just friends. It was getting harder to defend it anymore; but the thing was, none of your other friends pressed you. It was your business, your messy, immature business. They trusted you, with just about everything, because they could. You were a good friend, always there to help, always there to listen and soothe, to distract them when they needed it. None of them worried for a second that your thing with San was spinning recklessly out of control.

You were silent the rest of the way to San's place, taking in your surroundings through hooded eyes, your body slack against his. His building had an actual lobby, and he nodded to the man behind the counter, the man who recognized you without a second glance. Couches, tan with maroon pillows, surrounded a large low table, and behind it sat a coffee bar, a large bookshelf stocked with books and games, and the door to the gym. The elevator was sleek an unstained, not a scratch in sight; certainly no bullet holes. The carpet on his floor was short, black, and perfectly maintained, soft enough you could probably comfortably sleep on it. It was such a change, just five blocks south and three blocks west, this strange city you called home a mixture of literally everything.

It didn't take long when you got home for him to undress you; it was comfortable now that he'd run the heater for a bit, and though there was still a slight chill in the air, you didn't notice it with his hands all over you. His lips found yours, kissing you sweetly, gently, waiting for your body to open up to him. A swipe of his tongue made you moan, jaw falling slack, and he moved in to kiss you deeply, still gentle in his approach. He worked down to your neck, chest, and then nipples, sucking them softly, humming at the feeling. Your moans and whines were pathetic with sleepiness, your arms barely even skating through his hair or holding onto his shoulders. Stood in the comfortable air of his room you nearly fell back, San's arms coming around your back to help you down gently, laying you flat on his navy-blue comforter.

You spread your legs for him immediately; his kisses started at your knee, coming closer and closer to your aching core, his hands wrapped around your perfect thighs. This tongue found your slit, the taste sweet and intoxicating as always, and he swiped it up slowly, carefully brushing over your sensitive button and making you jerk and moan. Your thighs came up beside his head as he started working you, licking slow half circles over your clit, your back arching off his bed. You didn't understand; this had never felt good with anyone else, but when San went down on you your whole body gave in, and you had the quietest, sweetest orgasms, ones that always sent you into a perfect slumber. He continued his careful motion; it was just the thing that felt good to you, licking slightly over the hood of your sensitive spot, the stimulation not too much, but not too little either.

It took quite a few minutes, but soon he'd worked you up enough that your thighs started shaking, opening up now to push your center into his face, relishing the friction. Now he could slide his fingers in, put two inside your soaked cunt and curl them up and back, the two points of stimulation just what you needed. You started trembling almost immediately; it wasn't much longer till he felt the walls of your pussy clenching down on him, watched your stomach clench and release in ecstasy. You didn't come hard, certainly not as hard as you did last night. But it was long, your body riding out every bit of it, his fingers and tongue working you with perfect consistency. You shook and shook in front of him, moans weak and needy, your eyes closed and body already succumbing to sleep. He slowed his movements as you did, helping you ride out the last of it, then pulling himself out and off of you when you made that sound that meant enough.

You curled up on your side immediately, San scooping you up to place you more comfortably, tugging back his blanket. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow, before he tucked the comforter up to your chin and placed a kiss on your temple. You wouldn't remember any of this when you woke in a few hours, but you'd be damn thankful for the rest, your next few hours of sleep guaranteed to be deep.

And as San stood he couldn't think for a second about those serious, responsible conversations. They left his mind completely as he walked to his bathroom, turning on his shower. They were no where to be found as he wrapped a hand around his aching length, and finally gave himself some relief, some pleasure. All he could think about was the taste of you, the feeling of your thighs crushing his head, the huge ego boost he got every time he made you come like that. You'd let it slip several months ago that no one had ever come closer to doing what he'd done a hundred times; he felt like a fucking god now, each time your sweet tangy cunt was in his mouth, making him forget everything. He rubbed himself fast; he came hard, pent up and needy, frustration making his nervous system taught and sensitive. Cum coated the side of his hand and part of the wall in front of him, and he shuddered at just how intense it was; it was then that it all came crashing down, the conversations, the feelings, the way you'd talked to him last night. He finished washing his hair, his body; stepping out of the shower he felt shaky, satisfied, and totally unable to think straight.

He had to do it, he had to. Even if you'd try everything you could to reject the conversation. How could you not see how perfect he was, too?

[ateezscupid]

can you write smth with sub mingi and a curvy reader, and like he picks her up and she tenses and gets all awkward and insecure and he basically just reassures her?💕

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST mingi w/ body worship ♡

"I'm home-!" Mingi yelled, dropping his bag by the door. You came scurrying around the corner, holding your arms out with a cheeky smile.

"Min!" you squeal, throwing your arms around his neck. He laughs, returning the embrace before setting you down gently. "I missed youuu!"

"Aw, really? How much?" he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and giving a playful squeeze. You pretend to think hard, your eyes squinting as if the answer is just out of reach.

"Well, let's see… a lot!" You giggle, feeling the warmth of his smile against your cheek.You pull away and tilt your head, pulling at his hoodie. "But you smell like garage."

"You love it." he chuckled, out of nowhere deciding to lift you up. You yelped, a bit -- surprised. He's never tried to lift you before, and the thought of him doing so always lingered in your mind but you never actually asked him to. You kind of assumed he wouldn't be able to because of your weight. But here you are, off the floor, your legs dangling as he swings you around in a circle.

"What-?" he noticed the hesitant look on your face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No! It's just.." You gulp, trying to find the right words without sounding too overwhelmed. "It's just that… I didn't think you could lift me." A blush creeps up your cheeks as you admit your doubt.

Mingi's smile widens, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You're not that heavy," he says, spinning you around one more time before carefully setting you down.

"You don't have to lie. I know I'm heavy, I just -- you never tried to do it before and I didn't know what to do!"

"Well I thought you just didn't like being picked up," Mingi said, his eyes searching yours for a hint of truth. You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"Maybe I just didn't know how to ask," you confessed, playing with the strings of his hoodie. "But I've always wanted you to."

"And now I did and you're happy so I'm definitely going to do it again." He said, grinning. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tickled your sides, making you squirm and giggle.

"You're adorable," Mingi says, his grin never faltering as he watches you try to regain your composure. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the living room, his grip firm but gentle. You follow willingly, feeling lighter than you have in a while. The TV is on in the background, playing a show you both enjoy, but he quickly mutes it with the remote.

"I mean, I don't get why you're insecure. You're really fucking hot," Mingi says, his voice sincere as he sits you down on the couch. He plops down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh.

You roll your eyes, but the blush doesn't leave your cheeks. "Thanks, but you know it's not just about that," you murmur, looking down at your lap.

"I know but have you seen yourself? You're gorgeous," Mingi insists, gently lifting your chin with his finger so that your eyes meet his. His thumb brushes away a stray hair that's fallen across your forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender. "I mean, not to sound like a pervert, but I've had to stop myself from staring at you sometimes."

"Really-?" You whisper, your voice quivering slightly with disbelief. "So, what do you do when we have sex? Close your eyes?"

"Obviously not. But you see how I like you sitting on my face," Mingi teases, his voice dropping to a murmur. You slap his chest playfully, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at his words. The tension in the room shifts, the air thickening with something unspoken.

"What! Your thighs are so fucking soft. Imagine having them around your head," he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. You laugh nervously, trying to break the tension that's starting to build between you.

"You're a freak." You giggle, trying to push him away, but his hand remains firm on your thigh. "But a charming one."

"And you loveeee it. I'd do whatever you ask. If you want me to pick you up, carry you, whatever the case may be - just ask. Please. I'd do it in a heartbeat." He leans closer, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. You can feel your heart racing, and your palms start to sweat.

"I'm-- okay, I just changed my underwear. Give me a break," you retort, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays your excitement. Mingi laughs, his eyes never leaving yours, his hand still resting on your thigh.

"You're gonna have to change them again!" he jumps up, pulling you up and lifting you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. You shriek with laughter as he starts to walk down the hallway, your body bouncing slightly with each step he takes.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Okay I'm here and I am ready for the finale of this wonderful series!

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes. “Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.

Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?” You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?” “For me to let you go,” he says. 

OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.

But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.  You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.  “You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?” “She. She’s a she.” “Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?” Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.

I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[emsdevs]

I’m a sucker for Angst, so a heaviest of heavy Angst will always do it for me, like I need my insides to feel like it’s being stabbed and overwhelmed with all sort of emotions. Bonus point if it’s long. Hope this isn’t too much to ask for maybe I’m getting too carried away loll Could you do it with Justin Herbert please?

No Strings?

a/n: nonnie you sent this at the perfect time! I've had justin on my schedule for a while, but couldn't figure out what to write for him, so this worked out perfectly! this does not have a happy ending but i might be open to a part two if enough people want it. enjoyyyy :)

masterlist | NFL Masterlists | Justin Herbert Masterlist

You swore you could handle casual. When you started whatever you had going on with Justin, you swore you were the kind of person who could have a casual relationship, but now you aren’t so sure. When Justin asked you out four months ago, you never would’ve expected to be where you are now. It had all been going so well. The dates had been everything you could’ve asked for and more, and Justin was the perfect gentleman. It all began to go downhill after your third date. You had invited Justin into your apartment when he dropped you off, your intentions clear, and he had followed you inside. You two had been sitting on the couch when things began to get serious, the kiss you were sharing heating up.

Justin pulled away, looking slightly guilty. “I feel like I need to be honest with you about something before this goes any further.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” you were a little confused, but you let him speak.

“Look, because of the job I have, I really can’t do anything serious right now. I know I’ve probably led you on a little bit, but I swear I’ve never had any intentions to hurt you,” he stared at you, looking nervous.

“That’s okay!” you speak up too quickly for your liking. “We don’t have to stop unless that’s what you want. I can do casual.” Surely, you could. It couldn’t be that different from a normal relationship.

“You sure? I don’t wanna overstep if casual isn’t something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah, of course. No strings attached. Just having fun.”

As Justin leaned back in, you were thinking that this could definitely work. Justin was great, and this would keep him in your life without overstepping any boundaries. You could do casual.

~~

Turns out, you can’t do casual. You’ve been trying to stay normal, but you realized two days ago that you were falling for Justin, hard. You’d been keeping it to yourself, not wanting to scare him away, but it’s getting more and more difficult. He’s just so sweet, and the things he tends to do for you simply cannot be casual.

Is it casual when he plays with the ends of your hair before you get out of bed in the morning? Is it casual for him, even though he keeps all your favorite snacks at his place for when you have movie nights? If it’s casual, why does he keep a drawer free so you have space to keep a few clothes at his place? If it’s casual, why does he know you better than you know yourself? Why has he gotten you your favorite flowers every two weeks since you went on that first date with him? Why does he know “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” is the perfect movie to cheer you up after a long day? If it’s casual for him, why is he acting like he’s in love with you?

Eventually, it had gotten to a point where you couldn’t stand lying to him or yourself anymore. After four months of no strings, you had to talk to him. You finally got the chance one night when he invited you over for a movie night. Before the movie got started, you decided it was time to break the news.

“Justin… I actually think we need to talk,” you wiped your hands on your pants, feeling them already starting to sweat from the nerves.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I just really need to say this, and I know you probably won’t like it, but I need you to listen until I finish,” you pause, waiting for him to nod. “Okay, so, I just feel like we’ve definitely crossed some lines in this arrangement, ya know? Like we both have a drawer at each other’s places. We’re spending the night together, and sometimes, we hang out without even having sex. I just… this isn’t what we originally agreed to,” you were avoiding saying what you were truly feeling.

“So we’ll step back some? I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like something to be worried abou-”

“I caught feelings for you, Justin,” he just stares at you, shocked, “I know we said no feelings, but we’ve just gotten a little too close. We don’t have to stop or anything. I’m a big girl. I can handle-”

“No. No, we should stop,” he cuts you off, and it’s your turn to stare.

“Seriously?”

“We said no strings. I told you I can’t do relationships because of my job. If you have feelings for me, this needs to stop now before it can get worse.”

“Right,” you stood robotically, grabbing your things and walking out of Justin’s house with tears in your eyes. The worst part? He didn’t even try to stop you. Somehow, with one sentence, you ruined something that could’ve been so good for you, that had been so good for you.

~~

Now, it had been three months since that night, and you hadn’t spoken to Justin since. You’ve been going through the motions, just doing a fairly normal routine to make it through your day. You wake up, get dressed, go home, shower, cry while you eat your sorrows away, sleep, and then do it all again the next day. Nothing has felt right since your breakup with Justin, if that’s what you would even call. How can you break up with someone you were never really dating. 

You’ve found your confidence to be much lower recently, too. You couldn’t count the amount of time you’ve wondered where you went wrong. Why did you have to tell him? Why would he not even try? Why didn’t he follow you? Today, you found the answer.

You had decided that a day out would do you some good, so since you had the day off, you got dressed and walked around the city. You were about to go into one of your favorite coffee shops, one that you had brought Justin to many times. As you neared the door, you caught a glimpse of something that shattered your heart in a second. There sat Justin across from some girl you’ve never seen, looking too close to just be friends. You watched as she stood, kissing his cheek before she wandered off to the bathroom. A bright smile made its way onto Justin’s face, a smile you had never managed to bring out of him. With your heart broken all over again, you made your way to a close friend’s place. It was closer than yours, and you knew you didn’t want to be alone right now.

He had told you he couldn’t be in a relationship, but what he really meant was that he couldn’t be in a relationship with you. The questions began to set in again. Were you not pretty enough? Not popular enough? Did he need someone in the same tax bracket as him? Did he really just not like you? Did he think you weren’t good enough for him? Was he lying the entire time, every time he told you how special you were to him

Even with all the questions you had, you knew two things for sure. You were done with Justin Herbert, and you definitely could not do casual.

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[rose-in-blue]

"Any Time, Mon Cher"

Alastor x reader

Warnings/tags: fluff, Alastor being smarmy, reader being awkward, an aggressive amount of commas and parenthesis, deer kink(?), slightly suggestive, Alastor isn't repulsed by touch at least not from (Y/N), cursing, thoughts in italics, the hotel has a kitchen?

A/n: this is my first time posting fanfic, so please go easy on me, guys! let me know if I made any errors in the comments <3

1176 words

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“I seriously can’t believe you, Alastor!” you shouted, for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

“I really don’t see the problem here, dear,” he said, slightly more passive aggressive than normal.

You two had been fighting for the last 10 minutes or so, standing in the small kitchen of the Hazbin Hotel. While your fight had started with a simple argument over a slight misunderstanding, soon the gates broke and the flood began— every single thing that Alastor had done that ticked you off just rushed out in a wave that you couldn't seem to stop.

“Argh, you’re just… the… the worst!!” you screamed into his face, lacking better words. 

Alastors eyes narrowed, shit-eating-grin strained slightly, ears flicking back for a brief moment. You barely caught the change in his eyes or smile, but your eyes darted up at the movement from his fluffy, red and black ears.

You’d never admit it, but ever since you’d arrived at the hotel, you’d had a bit of an obsession over the Radio Demon. He was aggravating and full of himself and bitchy and narcissistic, but something about him always seemed to make your heart beat a little faster. Especially his more… deer-like features.

Antlers, ears, (speculated) tail— you were fascinated by it all. All you wanted to do was run your hand up the back of his ears, tangling in his hair, while you lay, gasping, helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy…

You blinked, realizing that you’d been staring for a few moments too long. Alastor noticed, of course. Smiling wider, he decided to have some fun with it.

“Really, darling? In what ways am I…” he flicked his ears backwards, then forwards again, “the worst?”

You blushed, eyes never breaking from his ears. “Uh, well, I… for starters…” you trailed off.

“...Yes, dear? I’m listening.” His left ear flicked to the side.

“Oh, well, you know…” you desperately tried to gain control of the conversation, looking into his eyes again. “You’re incredibly full of yourself.”

“Oh, really, (Y/N)? And you’re so humble?” He grinned impossibly wider, ears flicking in every which way.

“Well, ya know, I…” Get a hold of yourself, (Y/N), you thought, eyes trying to focus on anything else but the demon in front of you. “I’m not an asshole about it.” Fuck, why did you say that?!

Alastor threw his head back and laughed, his ears finally stopping. You pouted, hating to be the butt of whatever sadistic joke you were to him. “Really? Is that what you think of me?” he asked, still laughing.

“I… I mean, I…” What did you mean? Sure, Alastor could be shitty at times, but he seemed to have a soft spot for you… at least, that’s what you thought. You didn’t really know anymore.

He bent at the waist, face drawing closer to yours, and it seemed as if he read your mind. “What did you mean, sweetheart? I’m listening.” His ears shifted back (purposefully, of course– he just loved to see you squirm). That was the final breaking point for you.

“Oh, fuck you, Alastor!” you turned your head away, suddenly very aware that your back was now firmly pressed against the kitchen counter.

“You’re welcome to try, dear.”

HE DID NOT JUST—

You blushed, and your eyes flashed to his instantly, because there was no way in hell that he just said that.

The smirk that played across his face told you that he had indeed just said that.

“I…I…I-I,” you stammered, not quite able to process it. His smirk grew, especially after his ears twitched to the front again and your eyes followed every movement and his eyes followed yours.

Changing the subject (thank Satan), his smile shifted to a kinder one, eyes looking up to where his ears stood, then back at you. "Would you like to touch them, darling?"

You were silent for a moment, taken aback. "What-- I'm sorry?"

You heard him, of course, and he knew that, so he continued. "As long as our little argument is over, that is." He reached down and took your hand, eyes never breaking away from yours. "As much as I love our friendly banter, it hurts me so much to see you so angry at me."

You didn't know what so say for once, so you just let him bring your hand to to the side of his temple, almost touching his hair.

"...I..." Honestly, you were surprised you got that much out.

Still smiling, his eyes stared into your soul. "Use your words, dear."

Well, there was no going back now. You threw all your embarrassment out the window and nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, Alastor, I do."

Alastor smiled (you could swear there was kindness behind it), bowed his head, and pressed your hand to the base of his ear.

You almost gasped. The hair (hair? fur? hair-fur?) was soft, softer than you'd imagined. Your fingers gently danced up and down his ear, and then moved over to caress his antlers.

Meanwhile, hidden from you, Alastor's face was a mess of emotions. Every bone in his body screamed at his to leave, to vanish, to get away from the danger that physical contact might bring. His eyes flashed into radio dials, then back again. However, within only a few seconds, he relaxed into your touch, letting out a soft exhale.

You were enthralled with his ears and antlers, so much so that you brought your other hand up to the back of his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Alastor stepped forward slightly, swallowed his pride, and trailed his hands up the sides of your thighs to your waist, while your fingers kept toying with his hair.

Alastor, head still lowered, shifted enough to where he could look up at you. Finally, finally you were able to stop looking at the top of his head (satiated for now), and stared deep into his crimson eyes. (Were his pupils more dilated than normal?)

Slowly, he stood up straight, eyes still fixated on you. Your hands fell from his ears to his hair, and then to his chest. You seemed even more aware of the counter behind you, especially as Alastor took another small step toward you, almost pressing into you, hands tightening on your waist.

"Thank you," you whispered, almost inaudibly, head reaching up slightly.

"Any time, mon cher," he whispered back, as his head lowered.

At that moment, Charlie burst into the kitchen. Immediately, you spun around to face the sink, while Alastor shadow-traveled a few yards away to the fridge. "Alright, you two! I hope you're ready for some group exercises!" she bubbled.

You cleared your throat, blushing (grateful that she didn't see the almost-kiss). "Of course, we'll be out in a minute!" you assured the princess.

"No, no, right now! Let's goooo!" she dragged you out of the kitchen.

Before you passed the now open doorway, you caught Alastor's eye.

He smiled at you.

You grinned.

"Any time, dear," he whispered once more as you disappeared. "Any time."

[delight-angelsbliss]

could I get a Metal x Mobian reader 🥺 it can be any setting or story something romantic

All I wanted was you By paramore

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

Warnings: wasn't proofread and my grammar is trash this can also be read as any gender

Precis: metal sonic and reader sharing a hammock

Notes: Hey!! I'm so glad u went to me for this request and I had major fun making this and deciding what to do<33 I'm thinking of making angst hcs for metal sonic since I've gotten an idea!! We all know metal sonic tries so hard to be an organism anything other than a robot but what if he were using a relationship to act like one? He never really loved you and just used you to feel more animal like instead of smooth and cold metal. Does anyone else just get really tired when warm or hot? It's such a weird thing I have lmao

Metal sonic is a very weird case, a robot, but weirdly humane at the same time? It's like he tries so hard to be an organism while fully knowing he never will be anything other than a robot made to be a clone of sonic the hedgehog

Made by Dr Robotnik Eggman, he stayed so loyal it hurt to watch, watching as metal sonic destroys his non existent body and feelings each day to stay loyal to his creator

After you started working for Dr Eggman you got to meet metal

Your fascination with his behavior and the way he tried to act like a real human animal was evident with everyone

So to satiate that fascination, you got assigned to more missions with metal, but on special mission you were left extremely exhausted, metal sonic not so much due to his metal bones not being able to get tired

You two walked and walked, your shoes crunching the leaves and grass with each step as you two continue walking back

You felt like passing out from exhaustion, your body felt weary and limp, your bones sore and hurting

Feet hurting, shoes almost broken and your body limp from exhaustion, the robot next to you seemed to not be in the same predicament. Metal sonic couldn't get tired, he's a robot after all, but that didn't stop your fascination maybe infatuation for him. As you two walk around in the scolding heat, you spot a palm tree, the tree had enough shade and leaves to cool you down for a bit, but what really interested you was the hammock

Grabbing the robots metal hand, you take him with you to the palm tree, the metal on his hand having become hotter from the time outdoor in the burning sun

You let yourself fall back on the hammock, finally getting a break after a tough day, you prop up your feet against the strings of the hammock, fully stretching your body beforr making space for the robot

"Don't you also wanna rest in the shade? Your body could easily get hot in the sun" You ask, curiosity evident in your tone. It may seem silly, a robot resting, but it's cute and seems nice in your head. Metal sonic slowly walks over, not having a mouth to speak with really had its downsides, as he sits down his weights shifts the hammock a bit to his side

Getting used to the material of the hammock against his iron skin, he slowly lays down next to you

As time goes by, your eyes start feeling heavier, the leaves rustling in the wind lulling you to sleep, the heat didn't do much to help you keep your eyes awake. It's probably fine to go to sleep for a bit?

The robot picks up on your snores, looking to his side he finds you asleep, facing him with your head on his shoulder. Was it really ok for him to let you sleep? He decides against waking you, you've been working hard and deserve a break, he'll treat you to that break

Metal looks back up at the sky, the clouds slowly turning pink as the sun sets down, the sky had a strong orange hue and it was gonna be night when you go back on your way

It's best to sleep here

[siri-ike]

"Hello. I need someone at Wayne Manor. Someone just died... I think." Bruce had locked himself in the nearest room. Thankfully, one of the wireless phones was in there. "I don't know who it was, but he looked like he could be about 15 or 16, and he had white hair. He just, melted, into some kind of goo." He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't. The thoughts circling around in his head just wouldn't leave him alone. Why was Alfred so calm? Why didn't he want to call the police? Was the detective here yesterday because of this? Did Alfred kill that boy? No! Alfred would never do something like that! There has to be a better explanation. "Can you send Lieutenant Gordon, please?" Jim can find the answer. He can trust Jim. "Hello?" Isn't there supposed to be someone on the other end? Telling him to be calm in a situation where it's impossible to be calm?

"Danny. We can explain everything."

Bruce throws the phone across the room. It's, it's the detective from yesterday. He must be behind this. Everyone knows the cops in Gotham are dirty.

"Master, Bruce. Listen, it's not what it looks like." He's probably forcing Alfred to help him, too. That's why he was so weird at dinner.

Windows locked. He must have planned for this. Was all of this premeditated? Was he supposed to see that? Bruce tried to find anything heavy enough to break the window, but of course, this room was practically a padded cell.

He had to settle for wrapping his jacket around his fist. The glass was more decorative than sturdy, so it wasn't that hard to break. But it was loud. He had to kick it a couple of times to make the hole big enough. Then he stopped. What was he thinking? They're just going to get more aggressive now. And it's not like he can just leave. Where would he go? His hand really hurts.

He was alerted to the door by scratching and light clinking noises. They're picking the lock. He sneaks over to the bathroom, careful not to leave a blood trail.

The door bursts open, footsteps rush into the room, and someone jumps out the window. It was all one sound, but Bruce knew exactly what happened. He let's out a silent, sigh of relief. He waits a moment to make sure he can't hear any movement. He looks through the key hole in the bathroom door before cautiously opening it. The room is empty. The emergency phone should work. He can get there in 7 minutes flat. He'd timed himself dozens of times.

The door to the hallway was left open. Best not to touch it in case he comes back before Bruce gets discovered. The second he crept past the door, he felt a pair of eyes on him.

Alfred grabbed his left sleeve, but Bruce simply ripped it off and bolted away as fast as he could. He made it out of the family wing and through the guest room wing but got cut of half way through the collection corridor.

Desperately, Bruce tried to slow him down, but the detective seemed to be perfectly capable of running on the walls and ceiling, too. What kind of freak did he get involved with? He had almost made it to the medieval weapons room when Grayson picked him up like he weighed nothing more than an angry sack of flour. Screaming, kicking, biting. Nothing worked. He was too strong. He sprayed something in Bruce's face, and, it was, it was like everything, got fuzzy, and a little warm, hehe, all his muscles felt so soft, and bones, little squishy, hehe hehehe, squishy bones.

Dick let Danny lay in his arms, giggling for a while. Long enough to catch his breath. Was the real Bruce so slippery at this age? Long enough for Alfred to get here.

Dick picked Danny up. As gentle as he could with all that twitching. He didn't wanna use that spray on a child, but he couldn't knock him out either. What if he forgets again?

Back at the batcave Dick had to keep holding Danny because he wouldn't let go of his arm. It's totally not because he just likes the snuggle. Nope. Nightwing is being very professional. He hasn't even mentally designed a new Robin costume.

At long last, Zatanna Zeta-ed in. The JLD had been off world for ages, dealing with some dimension crap.

"Hey, girl," She elegantly stepped out of the glowing portal.

"Hey, girl," He replied. "Want the breif or are you cought up?"

"Bat-Clone, recently stabilized, altzimers? Question mark? Thinks he's Bruce in the late 80s." She gave Dick a look. "You two were made for each other." She teased.

"Ha-ha," He mocked. "He's out of it now, but he won't be able to lie or run."

"And he's on your lap because - You're just such close friends? I figured he would have accused you of murder or something by now."

"Murder?" His voice got higher. "Nooo - he didn't specify." Nightwing sounded like he was drowning on dry land. "I mean, sure, he requested a homicide detective. But that's just because Jim is the only cop he trusts." A chill runs through Dicks whole body. Danny had turned his head so now Dicks chest was covered in drool.

Zatanna reached her hand into her hat and pulled out a notebook and pen. "Let's start, then." She smiled smuggly at Dick, then crouched down just enough to be eye level with Danny. She put a hand on the boys' sholder. "Can you tell me your name?"

Bruce slowly turned his head, looking like he might fall over if he tried to move faster. There was a woman's voice speaking to him. She was blurry, and his eyes didn't wanna open all the way, but he could tell she had long black hair and was either wearing a black bodice with white sleeves or just a bodice. The room they were in was dimly lit, so that wasn't helping. "Auh?"

"Can you tell me your name?" She repeated patiently.

"... Bruce... Wayne... 12... April... 1988?"

Zatanna looked confused at Dick returned a shrug.

"What happened to you?" She addressed Bruce again.

"I - I, saw, a boy in the hallway. He melted," Bruce gestured to the green sludge, no longer glowing all over his shirt and pants. "Alfred was, going to clean it. Like, he knew someone was going to melt there." Bruce was too busy tripping balls to notice the concerned looks around him. "I called the police, but, detective, was on the phone. I tricked him, to jump, out the window."

Zatanna glanced at Nightwing, who looked proud more than anything.

"I was gonna run to the panic room. There's, phone there, but detective chased me." Bruce held tighter onto Dicks arm.

Zatanna looked between the two and closed her book. "Bruce? Who's lap are you sitting on?"

Nightwing braced for impact.

"My dad." He said fondly.

Zatanna took a deep breath. "Is your dad alive?"

"No." Bruce smiled.

A slew of emotions came and went from Zatannas face before landing on the next question. "Are you alive?"

"No." He looked so pleased.

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

[sasahuaa]

Vil Schoenheit as an omega

Riddle - Leona - Azul - Kalim - Idia - Malleus

hello! i finally recovered from my sickness!! and finally finished this, changed subspace to omeganspace bc i didn’t think the previous word had the meaning that i wanted, i wrote a very soft!vil, but i hope you enjoy it!

gn!reader; sfw; warnings: none

Vil is a very desired omega, from men to women, young to old, alphas, betas and omegas utter his name with countless praises. Though he is popular and has many types of people offering their suits to him, he hardly gives them a second thought.

He is too busy with work! He justifies with the partial truth. Vil is somewhat flattered by the confessions, but subtly scrunches his nose when he feels their intentions aren't heartfelt and merely wanting him for his appearance or fame - which, in his opinion, is very common, he is alright if people think of him nicely, but he can count on his fingers who really know him.

It's also a matter of his standards; an mate with great virtue, objective driven, earnest and passionate is hard to find. But he won't ever settle for less, Vil may not have personally seen amazing relationships, yet he understands what people are capable of doing for their loved ones.

His papa works very hard and is still doting towards him, during his breaks, sometimes he reads words of support his fans write for him and he admires the thoughtful gifts he receives during fan meetings.

It's not romantic love, but still is some type of love, if only he could meet his knight in shining armor to show him what passion is like…

Courting

Vil felt he developed a kind of kinship with everyone involved in SDC, not only because everyone was focused on the same objective, but also as a senior and housewarden, he charged himself to guide the entire group to the standards he expected of them. Vil knows potential when he sees one, so he has good intentions when he pushes their limits, though many misinterpret his determination to contempt.

This kinship towards you shook from time to time, he respected how you managed the rest of the boys and your words of support were great incentives to them, you were also generous and elegant, his eyes couldn't help but linger on your form as you helped around the house and during practices, the omega admitted to himself that you were a hard worker and admirable for that.

You sure had many qualities that he approved of, but what truly moved his heart was how heroic you could be, of course he heard of you dealing with overblots before, but you coming to rescue him alongside Rook and Epel was the cherry on top for him.

Vil is not one for romance, he does not open himself up easily, much less give opportunities to others, and yet he became quite infatuated with you. He made an exception out of you, and while he never chased for a relationship before, Vil was committed to be with you.

You miss all the shots you don't take, and he lived by this motto his whole life.

This dorm leader is not ashamed to be the one to pursue, though he would also enjoy being equally pursued. It's a matter of equilibrium for him, as such, he tries to nudge for both. Vil is open about his interest, but he hopes that you would be the one to seal the deal.

And what other better way to have your attention than to use his main prize? Vil knows he is an undisputable beauty, and is not ashamed to flaunt that. He begins to wear your favorite colors, his lips are more glossy, his hair up so he can show off his neck, and when he is in the mood to be a bit more daring, he wears dresses, skirts or mini shorts and puts his long legs to use.

“What do you think?” the omega asked, twirling around himself, the dress fluttering and revealing more of his skin “I made a haul recently, if you come to my room, I can model all of my new clothes just for you”

Clothes don't have gender, he thought so since forever, if it's pretty on him then it's more than fair that he will use it. Bonus points if he can make you gawk while embellishing himself.

He loves to see you flustered, might even be his favorite hobby.

Vil also gives you a lot of things, he says he is not spoiling you, that it's because you did something that made you deserve it, though his standards for this in particular are very low. You eating healthy is already an excuse for him to give you something, be it soaps, clothes, trinkets, homemade smoothies, and mostly items from sponsorships that he does not see a use for himself. Between the gifts, there's a lot of diy stuff, but in this case he likes to do it with you. The omega would invite you to come over and make subtle matches of necklaces and bracelets.

And dates! At first he doesn't call it dates, but his intentions are obvious at what he calls “one on one meetings in which we get to know each other more intimately”. Pomefiore is decorated from top to bottom when he decides it's a good day for a date, candle light dinners and fancy food are perfectly prepared for the night, picnic dates always have the most variety of food and the gardens are trimmed to magnificence. Maybe all of this is corny, and yet he wants to enjoy all the kinds of cliches possible.

Vil knows that people like to talk about their hobbies or preferred topics, and he has dealt countless times with alphas in the past that didn't know how to shut up. Although the dorm leader really hates when people talk over him, he finds it adorable when you get excited over a thing you are passionate about, you could be talking about the cycle of life of beetles and he would stop anything he is doing to listen.

Even when it's a subject he is connoisseur of, Vil's answers keep being “Oh yeah? Tell me more”, it's not like he will pretend he doesn't know about the topic, if you have any questions he will answer, but he won't ever interrupt and will encourage you to talk to him. It very much warms his heart when you are being zealous and intense around him.

All of that just to make you fall in love with him.

He wants so bad to hear you preaching for his name.

And he hopes that one day you will talk about him as ardently as your most dearly passions.

Growling

Self-control is a sacred behavior that everyone should learn, that's what Vil believes and expects from his dorm mates. Growling, in Vil's point of view, is an animalistic form of expression, impolite even when justifiable, and as someone who prizes his own dignity he learned from a very young age to suppress his growls. Nowadays, he barely feels the need to do so, and doubts he ever will when he is in the right state of mind.

Vil scolds his underclassmen if he hears them growling, Epel could tell, as he is a frequent victim of his stern gaze. Pomefiore learned quickly to avoid Vil if they need to put out their frustrations, though very unsuccessfully most of the time, as hardly ever anything escapes the loyal hunter by Vil's side.

If he is not in his right state of mind… it's rare for things like this to happen, but if he is close to his heat and he is not using suppressants to control his hormones, you would be able to hear an almost inaudible growl when Vil reads a proposal to act in another villain role, or when Neige gets more attention than him in an add or post. It's a self-deprecation most of the times, that he deserves better, that he can be better, he will seek to be under your care when this happens, but after he turns back to normal he sees it as another obstacle he needs to surpass.

Purring

Vil is not as against purring as he is about growling, although both are expressions of intense emotion, he sees more use in purring than growling. It’s just that he doesn’t see the reason in growling and expressing his anger, disappointment and upset in a verbal and yet uncommunicative way, it’s stressing to both him and whoever hears it in his opinion. But purring is different, it brings healthy benefits for himself, his alpha and, if he ever has one, future pups.

He also knows that some celebrities use their purr as a form of attracting fans, but he is not comfortable sharing it for the world, seven knows what weirdos would be doing with this kind of audio. Vil does have exceptions though, sometimes, when little pups get lost in events he is part of, he will purr away their frustrations until their guardians find them, but he makes sure that there are no cameras or audio recorders close by.

When he is with you, if you are being especially nice he will reward you with purrs, a good job deserves a exquisite prize after all. But honestly, his concept of “being nice” for him is really simple, taking care of yourself? Purr. Going out of your way to please him? Purr. Finishing your assignments so you have more time for him? Epel got jumpscared by the loud sound.

Nesting

Vil maintains a very neat nest, he changes the blankets, sheets and pillowcases each three days, he color codes and also separates by texture. Anytime he uses his nest he tidies it before he leaves, just like his appearance, not a single rumple is supposed to be seen in his safe haven.

As for the people he permits to go in it, not a single person besides himself and his mate are even allowed to see his nest. It's a very intimate endeavor for him, he can understand that some omegas are more catering towards pups and such, like Kalim and his communal nest, but he simply can't fathom the thought of also doing so.

It's not like anyone else was worthy enough anyway.

Months go by into your relationship before he invites you to his nest, he wants to make sure you are the right person before he does. Though he much prefers doing his daily skincare routine on his vanity, he also adores to make you sit on his nest, pull you to him until your back hits his chest and apply creams to your face, sometimes just sweep the brush on your face without any product, a gentle and slow movement in caress while he kisses softly the top of your head.

In all, he doesn't spend too much time in his nest, he chooses to do so when he feels particularly vulnerable or wants a deeply romantic time.

Marking

Vil likes to take one step at a time, because of that, it would take a while for him to properly mark you. He sees it as a matter of protection and privacy, it's not a secret that fans can be quite overprotective over their idols, and he fears that you would be an easy target, being someone from another world and, therefore, vulnerable.

At first, he would make essential oils, lotions and perfumes of his scent and gift to you, it's a disguisable form of marking and can be deferred as simply your choice of favorite smell and barely conclude that it's related to him, as these kinds of aromas have a superficial fragrance. It's enough for Vil though, at least in that moment of your relationship, enough for his omega purr in possession and chant that you are his, his, his!

Eventually Vil gets greedy, and lipstick marks blossom onto your skin. It's unseen in the start, hidden under your sleeves or collar, subsequently becoming more visible, until a visible kiss mark is placed on your cheek.

When he feels his public is ready or that he can't wait for the next step of your relationship, Vil would be more than honoured to receive and give a bite mark.

Omeganspace

He is not one to indulge very often, and this includes his omega instincts. It feels good when it happens, of course, but he gets quite uncomfortable later on, to be so vulnerable and out of control, he feels the possibility of falling out of perfection anytime he enters his omeganspace.

It would take a lot of trust in you for him to permit himself to strip off his senses. But when he does, he is quite talkative. Naturally, Vil likes to show off, and in situations like this he is no different, stretching out his body and whining for attention.

And if he is demanding being his normal self, he is hundreds times worse in this state, you won't get away from his line of vision, and he won't permit you to stray your gaze, cupping your face and snarling in warning if he sees your eyes tremble.

But, as always, even if his mind is filled with cotton, he promises to make it worth your while, you just need to cherish him, treat him as the queen he is, and Vil will deliver the greatest rewards for his knight.

☽ ☼ ☾

“Thank you for coming today, prefect.” Vil opened the door for you, his slender fingers circled around your wrist, subtly pressing his fingertips on your scent gland, he pulls you into his dorm “Your help is greatly appreciated.”

“It's no problem, what do you ne-” you swallow your words, and Vil feels chills coming up his spine.

You look at him, truly look at him, his skin ignites everywhere your gaze lands upon. For a brief moment, he feels too exposed, thinking that the miniskirt he chose for the day was way too short, but an undeniable thrill began to blossom in his stomach. This is what he wanted all along, for your attention to belong for him alone.

“You look stunning” you settled to look into his eyes, and Vil's heart filled with indescribable warmth, he returned a soft smile.

“As always. You don't look bad yourself” yet, your eyes remained averted from his body, and despite the frustration he felt into the very pit of his soul, he rested easily knowing that your focus was still on him.

The longer he spent with you, nudging the corners of your mind to learn more about you, he came to an understanding that you were afraid of crossing his boundaries and making him uncomfortable. Adorable that you believe it would be disrespectful to admire him, even, but it’s quite bothersome when he dressed with intent.

It's no matter, soon you would come around your behaviour, and it would be impossible for you to notice anything else but him, Vil was sure of that.

Vil pointed to a pile of cushions, rushing you to sit on it. He rounded the room, stopping at his desk and taking many lipsticks with him, then he walked to your side, comfying himself on another pillow.

“I am testing new formulas for my make-up, though I am still uncertain which one is the best,” he started, uncapping the first lipstick “can you help me decide?”

“Mn” but as soon as you went to take one of the lipsticks, he swatted your hand away.

“Transfer proof,” Vil played with the cap between his fingers, coloring his lips with deep red “is the characteristic I am looking for.”

“I don't understand how I can help with that.”

“Stay still,” the omega got closer to you, his scent containing a hint of excitement “you will be the perfect test subject” and then, his lips touched yours.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

Can you please give us your full match breakdown if you have the time? I love reading your thoughts and it helps me learn so much about the game.

hi anon - thanks! okay, here are my general thoughts below the cut:

tl;dr it's not a castrophic loss but if you look at the trend of league matches, we saw it coming. february is the one month we have to get our shit together before the champions knockout matches start! so there's more to learn from a loss than a win at this stage! this is do or die time for pere 🙏

so we have to note that it's the first home loss ever at estadi johan cruyff and it was against levante, a team that i've discussed a lot on my blog as being an example of a good team that has fallen from grace. it's women's team budget was cut and the team sold off all its top players, and levante is now facing potential relegation in the league.

this is a levante who fired its previous coach (who is facing serious allegations against him) and so you could say that levante has that "new coach bounce" feeling about them. they had a gameplan (low block and attack on counter) and they executed it well.

with that background, it was obvious that pere would be playing the "b" team, meaning mostly squad players. now when we talk about rotation in the team and that includes using bench players for matches against these lower ranked teams. they need to get minutes and game time and these are the "safer" matches to play. because at the end of the day, thankfully there's really no major consequence to the loss here but we know more about what areas the squad need to work on.

having said that, pere got his tactics wrong with this line-up. it felt like they hadn't played together and weren't on the same page with each other. now even when you play your "b" team, they should at least be able to anticipate each's others runs and be unified in the plan to break down a low block. that didn't happen here tonight and that's on pere with a lack of training against this type of defense from the opposition.

as evidence of that, there were too many moments when passes were mishit because of lack of anticipation of player runs or a player was on a run and then had to double back because the player with the ball was a step behind and they had to catch up. the reason we practise rondos and these small sided drills it to minimise this. but i saw way too much sloppiness today.

we need to be more disciplined. you saw errant passes or shots on goals when our players were getting frustrated, either due to a lack of calls by the referee or after time wasting by levante. you can't let opposition tactics get under your skin like that.

can pere please rest aitana for once? you can't start aitana and play her for 90+ minutes match after match and expect her to be effective as a leader for this "b" team. the same goes to caro who has just come back from injury. having said that, they had some great crosses, but we couldn't finish them...

by that same token, you can't throw on alexia and ewa and expect them to clean up your mess if the tactics are messed up from the start.

this is the most extreme example of what we have been battling with all season. there were so many matches with a weak first half and where we didn't score until the second half or get our flow going until the second half. it was too little, too late tonight.

we need to be more clinical on finishing. salma missed chances, aitana missed chances, esmee missed chances, kika missed chances, alexia missed chances. caro missed chances. it wasn't flowing for anyone. this has likewise been an issue since the beginning of the season. 47 shots and only 1 goal to show for it is unacceptable!

and to drill down on scoring, we need to be better on set pieces like corners and free kicks. we had 18 corners, 18! you can't have that many opportunities and not capitalise on them!

i can't put this loss on ellie but this is why we need more reps for her because we need to build up her confidence so that she's in total command of the defense and we don't have incidents like the second goal. by that token, not a great defensive performance. we can't ball watch and we need a better understanding as a unit. engen was okay in the first half and had a few mistakes in the second. but patri is injured and it doesn't help engen to say she's washed and be overly critical. just like everyone else, there are areas where she can improve too!

anyway, like cata says, with this team to the death, so let's watch the game tape back and make damn hell sure that we are learning from this! 🙏

[wolfypup65676]

Had to come back to this because I just couldn't stop thinking about this idea... -- Peter shivered, pulling his ratty hoodie tighter around him. He took a quick glimpse at his phone's map and looked up at the awfully tall gate.

Gotham Cemetary

He shoved his phone in his pocket and rubbed his hands together, trying to heat them up a bit. He was starting to regret coming out here, it was dark and cold, and Peter was dead broke and couldn't thermoregulate properly--

But he had to see him. Peter had to see Uncle Ben for himself, had to see his grave. Even if he wasn't Benjamin Parker anymore, even if he was a whole lot younger than Peter had ever known him, even if Jason Todd wasn't really his uncle, Peter had never been able to deny himself of his biggest regret, had never been able to wash his hands clean of the man who raised him for a whopping 10 years.

Peter had to see it, had to see him, because he had nothing else.

He grabs onto the gate, shuddering at the coldness of the iron bars, and he climbs. Carefully, he climbed down the other side.

The cemetery was full of graves and spindly trees, leaves gone in preparation of the upcoming harsh winter. Peter's teeth chattered, winter, right, he forgot about that.

Why did he have to come here during winter? Why could've he have dropped in during, oh, he doesn't know, spring?!

Focus, Peter. He takes a deep breath. We're here to see Uncle Ben, and nothing else. Worry about how to survive later.

The graves and trees surrounding him were imposing, staring at him, as if knowing he wasn't meant to be here. Peter hunched in on himself more, guilt gnawing at his heart.

You don't belong here, they seemed to say, why are you here?

His walk came to a stop as he finally spotted what, or rather, who, he was looking for.

Here lies Jason Todd

Peter crouched in front of the grave, hand hovering over the words. His face crumbled and he could feel the weight of everything crashing into him like a bullet train.

"Hey, Uncle Ben." He said, voice cracking. "How have you been?"

He could almost imagine it, could see Benjamin Parker staring at him with worry in his eyes, mouth forming soundless words.

"Peter?" He would say, hovering over Peter like if he moved too suddenly, he would break. "Why are you at my grave, kid? What's wrong?"

"I know you don't know me, but I'm your nephew."

Uncle Ben would take him into his arms and offer to talk, or to read one of the classics sitting on the bookshelf if he didn't feel like talking.

Peter wondered if Jason Todd would hug him the same way. Would he look at Peter with the same, overwhelming love in his eyes?

"I'm Peter Parker, it's nice to meet you, this you." Peter settles in the dirt. "I guess I should call you Uncle Jason, shouldn't I?"

Or maybe, this Jason would look at him like he's a monster. Eyes wrack full of disappointment to the person that Peter's become.

"I really hope you like me, but it's okay if you don't." Peter stares at his hands, "I just... I didn't know where else to go."

The grave remains silent. But if Peter focuses hard enough, he could pretend Uncle Ben was there, tugging him into his side, reassuring him that he could come visit him whenever he wanted.

"I'm homeless, dead broke, I have no idea where I am or anything about this place, and did I mention I'm like, five?" Peter laughs at his own misery "You'd think life would give me a break! Stupid Parker Luck."

Peter got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, because leaving meant leaving Uncle Ben and the little bubble of comfort he always provided. Leaving meant going back into Gotham, cold, alone, and starving.

He knows he should leave. He knows it's a horrible idea to stay here, where anyone could find him out in the open. He'd be exposing himself to the elements and he should really be finding a place to stay. But he couldn't help but feel like a little kid again, crawling into Uncle Ben and Aunt May's bed as he sobbed about his parent's death, afraid to be left alone.

"Hey... Uncle Jason?" He murmurs, "Do you think I could stay with you? Just for tonight? It doesn't have to be long! I'll leave before the sun rises, I promise."

It's a horrible idea, he keeps telling himself. Yet he can't stop himself from curling up next to Uncle Ben's, Uncle Jason's grave.

"Just... let me sleep for a little while." He says, vision starting to blur and darken.

"Go to sleep, Peter." He could imagine Uncle Ben saying, "I'll keep you safe from the monsters, promise."

And Peter goes to sleep.

DC/Marvel Peter Parker in Gotham AU where Dick Grayson is Peter's bio dad, and Jason is Uncle Ben.

Peter finds himself in another world where Ben exists only for him to be dead here too. Peter is lost, alone in a world he knows nothing about and has no one to talk to. Even if he starts making friends he can't tell them the truth about being from another universe. And yeah his bio parents exist here, but what is he supposed to tell them? He would just sound crazy, better to avoid them.

But he needs to talk to someone, so Jason's grave becomes a place where he can vent and reminisce.

[bomber-grl]

Call Me Penelope cause You’re My Odysseus

Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader (No specific Godly Parent

Word Count:4411

-

Leo… Leo.

Your thoughts wandered again as you patrolled the deck, the cool sea air nipping at your face. You’d told Percy to take a break—he’d been on edge lately, and you weren’t exactly complaining. Honestly, the more space you had between yourself and Leo Valdez, the better. Your face heated up every time he came anywhere near you.

You found yourself staring at the churning waves, hypnotized by the relentless cycle of them crashing over each other. Lost in thought, you didn’t even notice the steps behind you until—

"Hey!"

You jumped, spinning around in surprise. Of course, standing there, looking ridiculously charming despite the late hour, was none other than Leo Valdez, master of bad timing and probably worse pick-up lines.

Leo’s face mirrored your shock for a moment, but then, just like that, he slid into his usual smirk. The one that was half nervous, half confident—basically, classic Leo. He scratched the back of his head. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, voice a little higher than usual. "Didn’t think I’d find anyone else stupid enough to be up this late."

You couldn't help but laugh. "What are you doing up? I wasn’t aware they let you off the ship’s leash."

Leo blinked, the surprise lingering. "Oh, you know. Just fixing some stuff down in the engine room. Festus was acting all weird, and I had to check on the ship's defenses because apparently, nothing is stopping this whole quest from blowing the Argo ll up every five minutes. But, you know, minor stuff." He gave you a one-shoulder shrug that was probably meant to be cool, but just made him look like he’d forgotten how to stand.

You shook your head, grinning. “Still can’t believe you made the ship. Seriously, that’s pretty impressive.”

Leo blinked at you. Once. Twice. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but then he just closed it again, visibly thrown by your sincerity. You could practically see his brain buffering. He shuffled a little, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way he did when he was flustered. Finally, he stammered out, "I mean, I didn’t do it alone but Uh, thanks. That's... really nice of you to say."

And yeah, maybe you kind of like throwing him off balance. There was something oddly satisfying about making the charming, ever-flirty Leo Valdez pause for just a moment.

The thing about Leo? He was a flirt. A big flirt. He could try to charm anyone with a few slick words and a wink, but you learned pretty quickly that Leo’s confidence was just a shiny coat of paint over a ton of... well, feelings—and maybe some issues with his self-esteem.

You’d figured that out one day when you found yourself near him, as he was busily patching up something that had gotten busted in the last battle (because, naturally, everything on the Argo II was always getting busted). Of course, he spotted you and immediately called you over. Because why wouldn’t he?

And that’s how it went: You’d talk for a bit. But then Leo would try to flirt. Sometimes it was an awful pick-up line—so awful it actually made you laugh. And sometimes, he’d lean on something like he was trying to be extra suave and... miss. Then fall. Always a good time.

And on the rare occasions where he didn’t totally embarrass himself? He’d wait for your reaction, face half hopeful, half insecure.

Most of the time, you’d play it cool and pretend to be bashful—making him think he’d won. Other times, though, you’d flirt back. It started as a joke, really. He was always burning up, so one time you decided to play along, and the result? Well, he caught fire. Literally. You weren’t exaggerating. He was on fire, and you had to grab a fire extinguisher before the whole deck turned into an inferno.

“Leo,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You know, if you keep setting yourself on fire every time I talk to you, I’m going to start charging for these rescue missions.”

He flashed you that crooked grin of his, his cheeks turning a shade of red you hadn’t known a person could turn. "I'm pretty sure I'd pay anything to get you to keep talking to me."

And there it was again, that flirtation. But beneath it? Was there something else? Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet? You didn’t know. But damn, Leo had a way of making you want to find out.

-

After one of the many, many exhausting days aboard the Argo II, you had one singular goal in mind: get to your cabin, collapse into your bed, and pray that nothing—nothing—would interrupt your much-needed sleep. It was a rare occasion when you could actually get some peace, and you were determined to make the most of it.

But of course, life had other plans.

As you walked down the hall, a distant murmur of voices caught your attention. You froze. Was this the part where you ignored it and moved on? Definitely. Were you actually going to do that? Absolutely not.

You crept closer, your footsteps barely audible. You could’ve sworn you were moving like a ninja—or at least what you imagined a ninja would look like if they had absolutely no stealth whatsoever. Anyway, it was too late to back out now.

You stopped at a corner, inching closer to the source of the voices. Your heart was pounding in your chest—not from the adrenaline, but from the fact that you had, once again, found yourself doing something questionable for the sake of curiosity.

You strained your ears and waited. And then—there it was. The voices of Leo and Jason, clearly in the middle of some deep conversation. You caught snippets of their exchange.

“...what about you and [your name]?” Jason’s voice floated through the air.

You froze, your eyes widening. You hadn’t been expecting that. At all.

Your heart did a little leap as you leaned in closer. “What about me and Leo?” you thought, trying to make sense of it.

Leo’s voice answered—there was a momentary pause before his usual confidence took over. “I like them. Like, actually like them,” he said, his tone laced with that trademark Leo half-cocky, half-nervous vibe.

You blinked. Your brain might’ve stopped working for a solid second. Did Leo just say—?

Before you could fully process the implications of what you’d overheard, you heard their conversation fade into something less distinct, a murmur of words lost in the distance. You were left standing there, a bit dazed, your face heating up. Your heart, too, was doing that thing where it sped up in an uncomfortable, almost violent way. The idea of you and Leo?

No. No way.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a fake, overly dramatic clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around faster than you had ever moved in your life, nearly bumping into the person who had caught you mid-espionage.

And of course, it was none other than Piper.

Piper. Cool, composed, and way too clever for her own good. The girl who always seemed to be two steps ahead of you. And judging by the smirk she was giving you right now, she had definitely been aware of your little eavesdropping escapade.

She just shook her head, looking at you with that amused grin you’d come to recognize. “Really? Eavesdropping now? That’s a new one for you.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out. Instead, you just gave her a sheepish look and shrugged, pretending like you were totally innocent in all of this.

Piper’s smirk softened into a smile. “Come on,” she said, tilting her head as she beckoned you to follow. “Let’s go. Before you get caught.”

You followed her down the hall, your mind still spinning. Leo? Actually liking you? You couldn’t even. This was... a lot to process. And now that you were trying to piece it together, your thoughts were as tangled as the ropes on the ship after a storm.

But Piper—bless her—seemed to sense your mental chaos. She didn’t bring it up again, instead chatting with you casually, like nothing had happened. She was way too good at pretending she hadn’t just caught you doing something totally questionable.

Still, as you walked behind her, you couldn’t help but glance back toward the hallway, where Leo and Jason’s conversation was probably still happening. You could almost feel your face flush again just thinking about it.

Piper glanced at you from the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. “You okay back there?” she asked, clearly amused by your dazed expression.

You nodded. “Yeah, totally fine. Nothing weird going on here. Nope. Not at all.”

She laughed softly, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say.”

And as you followed her down the hall, you couldn't help but wonder just how much Leo Valdez was going to mess with your head in the days to come. And just how much Piper knew about all of it.

-

The battle unfolded in the blink of an eye. One moment, you, Piper, and Leo were aboard the Argo II, navigating the skies with the hum of the engines beneath your feet. The next, a blast of icy power ripped through the air, and Khione and her goons attacked, freezing everything in their wake. Piper’s charmspeak wasn’t enough to prevent Leo from being thrown violently into the sky, his form disappearing into the distance with an eerie speed.

It was as if time had frozen, leaving you suspended in disbelief. It all happened so fast—too fast. It wasn’t until Piper’s desperate scream rang through the air, her voice cracked with fear, that the weight of what had just occurred hit you. “Leo!” she cried, reaching out as if she could pull him back through the chaos. But Leo was already gone.

The days following his disappearance felt like an endless blur. The crew did their best to carry on, but without Leo’s infectious energy, the Argo II felt eerily quiet. A hollow ache gnawed at you—frustration, fear, and confusion all bubbling together. You couldn’t help but wonder where Leo was, if he was even alive. Had he been lost to the winds of fate?

A week later, there was a commotion—shouted voices, the clattering of metal, the unmistakable sound of Festus’ familiar mechanical whirring. It was Leo. He had returned.

Leo, with his wild grin and grease-streaked face, stood beside Festus, both of them already hard at work in the engine room as if nothing had happened. You watched, your heart in your throat, torn between relief and a growing sense of frustration. You wanted to run to him, to yell at him, to ask him a hundred questions, but there was something in his demeanor that made you hesitate. The old Leo was back, but this version felt... distant.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed him until now. Sure, you had a little crush on him, but that wasn’t all of it. Leo had been your first real friend in what felt like centuries, the first person you’d connected with on a level that went beyond the surface. The way he could make you laugh even when everything seemed hopeless—that was something you never thought you’d find again.

But lately, Leo had been avoiding you. He’d slip away whenever you came near, his eyes darting to the floor or the nearest exit. It stung. And today? You had had enough of it.

You found him underdeck, his back turned as he tinkered with the ship’s machinery. Without a second thought, you shoved him hard against the wall. The impact rattled the room, and Leo's surprised gasp was the only sound that followed.

His eyes widened in shock, his usual cocky grin replaced by an expression of flustered bewilderment. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to process what just happened. But you were done waiting.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you demanded, your voice unexpectedly cracking on the last word. It took everything in you not to shrink back from the vulnerability that slipped through, but you stood your ground, staring him down.

Leo blinked, clearly startled. The tough guy facade faltered for a moment, and you could almost see the invisible weight on his shoulders. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard from the others, but I ended up on Ogygia when I got blasted out of here.”

Ogygia. The name echoed in your mind. The island of Calypso, the witch who had nursed Percy back to health years ago when you and Annabeth and apparently the rest of camp thought him to be dead. You’d heard the stories, but hearing Leo mention it made the hairs on your neck stand up. A sense of suspicion crept in.

“Yeah, and what about it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart was racing.

Leo’s eyes narrowed, clearly frustrated that you weren’t already “in the know.” He threw his hands up in exasperation, though his tone was far less confident than usual. “Well... I met Calypso.” He spoke slowly, almost as if testing the waters, waiting for your reaction.

Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh-huh…” You crossed your arms, a half-amused, half-worried look on your face, but you could tell Leo was about to say more.

He exhaled sharply, dragging the words out like they were heavier than lead. “And I may have promised to come back and rescue her... on the River Styx.”

You froze. For a moment, time itself seemed to stop. “You what?!”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them, and your anger flared in a way you hadn't expected. Your heart pounded in your chest, the frustration that had been building for days erupting in an instant. “How could you be so stupid, Leo?!" you snapped, desperate for him to understand the gravity of what he’d just said. "You can't be serious!”

Leo seemed startled by the harsh words, but he braced himself, like he’d been expecting them all along. “She needed my help! She’s been stuck on that island for centuries!” His voice was a little defensive, but there was an underlying note of... concern? You exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. It was clear Leo just felt a sort of kinship with her, the way he always did with anyone who needed saving.

Despite your growing coolness, Leo still felt the need to add, “I don’t... like her, though.”

Your gaze snapped back to him, and for a moment, it was like nothing had changed between the two of you. You found yourself struggling to hide a grin. “And why are you telling me this?” You tried, but amusement was creeping into your voice.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, his usual nervous gesture. “Well, I just didn’t want you to think I—y’know—had some... thing for her.”

Of course. Only Leo would accidentally dig a hole for himself in the middle of a serious conversation.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “And why would I think that?”

He blinked, his blush spreading to his ears. If you hadn’t been in the middle of this conversation, you were pretty sure his face would’ve caught fire.

You grinned, shaking your head as you reached out to sling your arm around his shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go eat. I’m starving, and you’ve got enough ‘I’m a walking disaster’ moments for one day.”

Leo groaned, but the way his eyes twinkled told you he was secretly relieved. Just another day in the life of Leo Valdez.

-

You met Reyna. She, Nico, and Coach Hedge had taken the task of getting the Athena Parthenos to Camp Jupiter a while ago. They were all heroes in their own right, but the last thing you wanted to do was sit around and wait. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of uncertainty and battles, you made it back to Camp Half-Blood. But of course, peace would never last.

Not here. Not with the war that was brewing on the horizon.

In fact, peace didn't even stand a chance. It didn't last more than a few moments after you stepped foot back on the camp’s familiar soil. The battle found you again, just like it always did. You were carried from one fight to the next, running on adrenaline and the relentless desire to protect your friends. Monsters fell before you, and the injured campers you helped were a reminder of what was at stake. But even as you fought, you couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was coming.

Then, you heard it.

A loud bang, a crackle in the sky that sets your teeth on edge. You looked up instinctively, already knowing in the pit of your stomach what was going on. Gaea was being fought, her chaos spilling out over the world. Some of your closest friends were out there, battling the earth goddess herself.

But this—this was different.

The air felt colder, the ground seemed to tremble underfoot. Something had shifted. Your stomach twisted into a knot. Something was wrong, deeper than any battle or monster or war you’d fought before.

And before you could even make sense of it, your attention was yanked away. A shout pierced the chaos—someone calling for help, a camper in trouble.

You didn’t hesitate.

There would be no backing down now. You couldn’t give up, not when you’ve already made it this far.

-

Your gut had been right. The battle raged on, but the worst news hit you like a tidal wave. Leo was gone.

It wasn’t just the usual chaos of battle. This was different. Leo. The guy who could fix anything, who joked through every crisis, who had always been one step ahead of the rest of you. But now? Now he was gone. And the words hit you like a punch to the stomach.

You should’ve known. You should’ve realized that something was off. Leo had been acting strangely lately, slipping into moods you’d never seen him in before. Those long silences. The way he kept pushing people away like he was trying to make himself disappear before the inevitable. And now it all made sense in a way that felt like ice down your spine.

Was this it? Was this what he’d been planning all along?

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe it at first. Leo—a martyr? The thought felt wrong in every possible way. Leo wasn’t the kind to give up, to throw himself away for a cause, no matter how noble. He always had a plan. He always had a way out. But now, as the reality settled in, you couldn’t help but wonder. Was this his plan all along? To go out in a blaze of glory? To save everyone at the cost of himself?

It was impossible to reconcile the Leo you knew with the Leo who might have done this, who might’ve sacrificed himself for the greater good.

But as the news spread and the camp was left to mourn, a heavy, bitter ache formed in your chest. You thought of all the times he’d smiled and cracked jokes, of all the times you’d fought side-by-side, laughing and shouting together. And now... Now there was nothing.

It felt like the world was missing a spark. A spark you knew as Leo.

You pushed the grief aside for the moment—it wasn't time to break down. Not yet. But the thought lingered, gnawing at you. Was this really his choice? And if it was... would you ever be able to forgive him for leaving you behind?

-

Two months had passed.

Each day bled into the next like a long, gray smear, and the world had become nothing but the aching void of Leo Valdez’s absence. The loss was a cold weight in the pit of your stomach, a stone that no amount of time could make lighter. Time, it seemed, only deepened the wound.

Camp Half-Blood had continued, as it always did. The camp was used to death. Demigods were used to death and grief, everyone had to learn to carry their burdens or they’d drown. They had learned to march on, even after losing their closest friends. But you? You couldn’t do it. Not this time.

Leo had been different. He had been your Leo, your spark of light in a world that had so often seemed too dark. And now he was gone. And nothing could fill the hole he left behind.

Amidst your grief you had heard of Apollo's appearance at camp. From what you could gather, he had been punished for Octavian's actions and made human. Even more funnily enough, he was a servant to some hot-headed girl.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about Apollo’s strange fate or his odd little master. The only thing that consumed you was Leo. The only thing that mattered was that Leo was gone, and you were left behind in the ruins of it.

Days turned to weeks, and then weeks into two long, endless months. You stayed in your cabin mostly, not wanting to face the world outside. You couldn't bring yourself to do anything but wallow in the grief. The other campers had tried to help, of course. Some had dropped by to check in on you. A few even brought food, but you couldn’t eat. You didn’t want to eat.

And then one morning, when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, you finally decided—today, you would leave the cabin.

You stood up slowly, the ache in your chest never leaving. You had gone days without food, but something in you told you it was time to stop. Time to start existing again, at least for a while.

You stepped outside, the crisp air hitting your skin. The camp seemed as alive as ever, filled with the sounds of training, laughter, and chatter. But to you, it all felt distant. The faces of your friends, Percy, Annabeth, Chiron, they all seemed to move through a fog. They had all moved on, in their own ways. But you couldn’t.

And you didn’t care about the camp’s new gossip, either. It wasn’t important. It wasn’t Leo.

But then, as you made your way towards the mess hall, you overheard a conversation, sharp and full of whispers. “Leo’s back. He’s really back.”

Your heart skipped. Your breath caught. Leo?

You hurried towards the Big House, ignoring the pull of your doubt. When you arrived, there was a crowd of campers, gathered in a long line stretching out in front of the door. And, in the center of it all, there he was.

Leo.

You blinked, and for a moment, it felt like your heart might stop. Was this real? Was this... really happening?

He looked the same, but different. His usual cocky grin was there, though he seemed a little subdued, almost unsure. His hair was a mess as always, and his shirt had the usual grease stains from his latest invention. But there was something new about him—something that made your chest tighten.

The line shifted a bit, and it was like everything fell away. The campers were giving you space, stepping aside. You moved forward, not even thinking, just needing to be close to him, needing to see him, to know that this wasn’t a dream.

"Leo?" you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, he looked stunned, like he couldn't believe his own eyes. Then, in a move that was so typically Leo, he shot up from the bench where he had been sitting, his arms wide open.

“[Your name]” he exclaimed, and before you could even think to react, he wrapped you in a hug. “You won’t believe what’s happened, but—”

You slapped him.

It wasn’t a gentle tap, either. It was a full-on smack, the kind you only give to the person who hurt you most.

Some campers nearby snickered. But you didn’t care. You had to do it. You had to make him feel how angry and hurt you had been all this time. How he had left, without a word, without a goodbye.

Leo froze, his expression turning to one of surprise, then to embarrassment. “Ow! What the—” He rubbed his cheek, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, I deserved it”

You stepped back, your breath shaky, but now that you’d slapped him, something else took over. Something that drowned out all the hurt, the anger, the loss. You threw your arms around him again, pulling him close, holding him tighter this time.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again, Leo,” you said, your voice breaking. “Do you hear me? I thought... I thought I lost you. You can’t just... just disappear.”

Leo chuckled softly, his voice low and full of warmth, despite the seriousness in your words. “I mean... I didn’t mean to disappear. You know how I am—always making things explode and running off to save the day.” He pulled back slightly, looking at you with that trademark mischievous grin. “But I’m here now. So... does this mean we’re together now? Like... officially?”

You stared at him, blinking in disbelief at his question. For a moment, you almost wanted to laugh—except all the emotions bubbling inside of you weren’t exactly funny.

"Yes," you said, pulling him in and kissing him fiercely, because you couldn’t hold back anymore. Because you needed him. Because you needed him to know you still loved him, even after everything. Even after all the pain.

When you pulled away, Leo was grinning, his usual cocky smile back in full force, despite the tears you both had been holding back. "So... does that mean you're not going to slap me again?"

You could’ve slapped him again. You really could’ve. But instead, you just smiled, shaking your head, and murmured, “No. But I’m never letting you go again.”

And this time, you meant it.

[familytgirltoy]

You had to move out when your sister started HRT. The guilt ate at you; after all, you'd been through it all before, you love her, you wanted to support her. But the way she looked at you was too dangerous. So innocent. So helpless. Always coming to you with every little question, always excited to show off every little change, always so desperately and shamelessly looking up to her beloved big sis for approval.

It made you want to fuck her changing body until she never forgot who she belonged to. Every time she smiled up at you you wanted to shove your thick girl cock between those soft and pretty lips, and every time she turned away it took every ounce of your restraint to not rape her in your childhood home.

So, you moved out. Took a job across the country before you could do something you could never take back. She had another three years of college left so you knew she couldn't follow you, and you kept every message between you as short as you could. Which would be a lot easier if she would just stop sending pictures of herself dressed like... that. You could swear every outfit was two sizes too small, flaunting her newly soft skin and ever growing curves.

Every day became an endless cycle of resisting her and giving in to her. You worked almost constantly just to keep your mind off her, and came home exhausted to shamefully beat your dick to yet another set of new pictures from your little sis. Bit by bit she dropped any facade of modesty. Too-tight clothes gave way to lingerie and bare skin, playful innuendo became shameless, sultry begging for you. And still you persevered. You are not a girl of half-measures; if you claimed your sister she would be yours and yours alone, her entire life and future subsumed into your incestuous, inexhaustible desire. You love her. Could you really take everything from her like that?

Days blended together in a haze of lust and work until you lost track, weeks, then months, then years slipping by, until a single knock on your door breaks the cycle.

And there she is. More beautiful than every fantasy you've had about her, even exhausted as she is from her graduation and the long drive to see you. Her expression is the same desire for approval that you so vividly remember, and in her hands she holds a collar with more promise than any wedding ring. Your mouth is dry as you slowly reach out to take it from her.

"Are you sure?" you whisper.

"I love you," she replies.

"You'll be mine."

"I always was."

Your hands are steady as you cinch the collar round her neck, and with your soft fingers on her throat pull her close to kiss the lips you've always dreamed about. You wish you could say that your new love was gentle and sweet, but that kiss was the last moment of tenderness your little sister would get for months. You'll make her pay for every single moment you held back. You drive her to her knees there in front of your door and grip her hair with hand while the other lifts your tenting skirt. She barely has a moment to gasp at the size of her big sisters cock before you force it past her soft lips, fucking her throat until it chokes her to the brink of consciousness without a care for what the neighbors might see.

The only thing that stops you is the moment you feel you're about to cum; you pull out, a string of spit and precum linking your incestuous cock to your sweet little sisters mouth, and drag her by her collar ring to your bed. You toss her onto the soft covers before getting a rope from your closet, tying her up to make sure she can't escape as you consumate your marriage here. You smear lube across your throbbing cock, pumping it to the sight of your cute little sister's gasping, shivering body, watching as she spreads her legs for you to reveal her own little throbbing girl dick and her tight, virgin hole. You've spilled gallons of cum to your sister in this bed, but tonight, as your cock pushes into your new toy and wife for the first time, as she moans louder with every inch you press inside her, you know every single drop of your load will be used for what it was always meant for; breeding your little sister. A dim voice at the back of your mind tries to tell you that's not possible, but all you hear is an excuse to fill her cute little body up as many times as it takes to knock her up.

You fuck her into the soft mattress, banging the headboard against the wall each time you slam into her until her sweet voice screams with pleasure, her cute little cock spilling her load across her soft body as you growl with animalistic lust and flood her deep inside with your cum. You never stop, fucking your load into her even as your fingers grip bruises onto her hip, pounding into her to shape her body to yours.

By the time morning comes you're finally exhausted enough to slow down, to wipe the mix of sweat and cum from her now unconscious body until she looks absolutely perfect. You set up a little camera, hold her close, and kiss her gently as it takes this picture of your wedding night.

You'll never let her go again.

[bippot]

Damsel

Story Summary -> Vigilante notices a girl and her not-so-nice boyfriend arguing, and just as the hero is about to reprimand the bad boyfriend, she does something unexpected. When she finds him a week later, they come to learn that they mesh together quite well. Will that chemistry remain when she knows who's under the visor?

Tags -> Unhealthy Relationships, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Secret Identity, Idiots in Love, First Meetings, Coffee Date

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

It was rare that the damsels Vigilante saved stuck around for much of a conversation. He'd kill the guy harassing them, the criminal's blood would splat on their pretty faces, and they'd run away in terror from the very sight of him. He'd get the occasional quiet, "Thank you," or the very loud, "Why the fuck did you kill him? You fucking weirdo!" but nothing more than that. Yeah, it sucked. He was used to it, though.

Maybe it was the suit. Adrian thought he had an approachable face, and his mask was hiding that. It wasn't as if he could risk taking his mask off - that would be so stupid - because anyone other than the 11th Street Kids knowing his identity was out of the question.

Then he came across a couple having an argument one night. That wasn't out of the blue: couples have arguments every day. Yet, they don't always happen at 12pm in the dingy alleyway between a shitty bar and a tattoo shop that had awful reviews - apparently, their infection rate was almost 80%. How they were still in business, he'd never know - and although the alley tended to be a hive of delinquency, there didn't seem to be any dealings going down. This wasn't a good place to hang out. Vigilante patrolled in this area for a reason.

The girlfriend was far too beautiful to be in this part of town. She was dressed up nice, far too nice, and had pretty nails and make-up as if she'd tried really hard to look her best for this date. The man, on the other hand, looked as if he was still wearing his work clothes. Even from where he was hiding behind the dumpster, Adrian couldn't help but notice how defeated she seemed. If she'd been livelier, maybe he would've enjoyed watching the whole thing go down. He could've treated it like he was watching one of those trashy reality shows, but, y'know, it was actual reality.

The girl was tired. So tired that she didn't care enough to raise her voice. She wasn't hysterical. There were no tears. No passion. Just a sad smile and an even sorrier, "I can't do this any more."

"Do what, babe?" The boyfriend replied, taking a drag of his cigarette, only to blow the smoke directly in her face. She let out a long-suffering sigh, waved it away, and stepped out of his breathing range.

"It's our anniversary, Charlie."

He scoffed, "I know that. Why the fuck do you think I brought you here?"

"I didn't expect to go to a perfect, like, fancy spot, but we could've gone to a restaurant, or maybe somewhere where your shoes don't stick to the floor because of how gross it is," the girl said, rubbing circles into her temples with her fingers in order to ease the headache that was forming. 

Adrian had only been in a few short-term relationships during his life. They never lasted long enough to reach an anniversary. But he knew that this bar was a poor choice of venue. It was cheap, seedy, filled with lowlifes, and, well, it smelt. Really bad. Boy, if Adrian was in the guy's position and had the chance to celebrate with a beautiful girl, he would've taken her to the new pizza place that opened a few doors down from Fennel Fields. It wasn't fancy, but there were candles and comfy booths and lots of flowers, and the food tasted fantastic. Every time he passed it, Adrian thought, 'That would be a nice spot to go on a date,' and that thought was immediately followed by the deprecating, 'Like, I could get a date.'

"I like this bar," Charlie defended himself. He flicked his cigarette to the ground. "Stomp it out for me, Y/N?"

Y/N looked down at her nice new shoes. She'd bought them specifically for tonight, and yeah, they were expensive and probably a bit impractical, but she wanted to make an effort. She agreed reluctantly and squished the butt underneath her shoe, but that was it. Y/N had never been a person who cared too much about appearances, whether about herself or those around her, and she knew that her shoe could be cleaned. In this moment, in the here and now, Y/N felt as if it mattered more than anything.

"Can we go home?" she urged, her voice so small and fragile that Charlie barely heard her at first. 

"I thought you wanted to fucking enjoy yourself, honey," Charlie responded, his expression hardening. "Do you think I wanted to do this tonight? My buddies said they were going to the range tonight, but I'm here. With you."

"Okay, Charlie." She wiped a hand down her face, smudging her eyeliner a bit. "Next time your buddies ask you to go to the range, you should go with them."

"Cool, thanks," Charlie grinned wolfishly, flashing a row of perfectly straight teeth. He didn't understand why she was being so chill about this whole thing, but he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. 

Her hands rubbed up and down her bare biceps in order to warm herself up a bit. "Yeah, it's not as if you'll have a girlfriend to hold you back from doing whatever you want from now on," she announced confidently. She was determined, despite her fear, because she knew that her life would be so much worse without Charlie in it. 

Life as a single woman would be filled with freedom. No more arguments or screaming matches. No more being disappointed when Charlie chose his friends, his job, the Knicks game, and everything over her.

"Babe, knock it off," Charlie warned her.

It was at this part that Adrian knew what kind of guy Charlie was because just as Y/N was about to put some distance between them, he swiped his hand out and clamped his hand around her wrist, yanking her harshly towards him. "Ow. Let go, Charlie." She tried struggling free, but he held her tighter, keeping her firmly in place.

In an instant, Vigilante was revealing himself to step in. There was no way this situation could get any worse, right? If Vigilante stepped in now, the boyfriend would run away, and she'd be free of him from this moment on. "The lady wants to leave," Vigilante interrupted in a way so cheesy that the couple stopped in place instantly and stared at him. 

The arrival of this new person didn't cause Charlie to loosen his grip; quite the contrary. Y/N let out a pained whimper, and she was sure she'd have a red splotch on her skin when this was all over. "I think you might be hurting her, dude," Vigilante pointed out, taking a step closer to the pair, making Charlie tense up in anticipation of a fight. "You gonna let go, or do I have to make you let go?"

Charlie glared at the masked hero. "Fuck off," he growled. "She's my girl, 'dude.' I can do whatever I want with her."

Before Vigilante could say anything else, a punch happened. Y/N reared back and used her free hand to pummelled her boyfriend - ex-boyfriend now - right on his nose. He recoiled with a howl of pain, then cradled his reddened nose, looking ready to attack again.

"What the hell was that for?!"

Adrian was in love. He'd always been a sucker for a woman who was prepared to literally fight for herself. It was badass! She was a badass! She was so incredibly brave, fighting for herself instead of giving in.

With a grunt, Charlie lunged for Y/N, but Vigilante wedged himself between them before he got the chance. "Woah, woah, dude, cool your shit!" He pushed the guy away and stood protectively in front of Y/N. Vigilante, ever so gently, pulled her behind him like he was her personal bodyguard.

"It's probably best if you leave now, bud," Vigilante said, glancing down at Charlie, "Cause if you lay a hand on her again, I will force you to eat your own fingers."

That seemed to scare Charlie off a bit, since he took a step back. He glared at Vigilante for a second, thinking over how many bones the maniac would break if he tried one more time to grab his girlfriend and pull her away, before he realised that was a terrible idea. He scowled and muttered something under his breath, then turned to Y/N with a sneer. "We are going to talk about this tomorrow, Y/N."

"I will drop your stuff off on your doorstep tomorrow, but that's it."

"But-"

Vigilante unclipped his gun from his belt and waved it at Charlie. "I'm gonna shoot you in the ass in 3...2...."

Without hesitation, Charlie bolted down the street. Once he rounded the corner, Vigilante giggled, "The safety is on, fuckin' idiot!" to himself and placed the gun back on his belt.

Y/N didn't move from where she was standing. She stayed frozen in her spot until, all of a sudden, her throat released a joyous cheer; her eyes were bright and shiny, and she jumped up and down. She couldn't contain her excitement.

"Thank you!"

"Me? You're the one who sucker-punched him! You were just like, POW!" He mimicked her punch, and even though she couldn't see his face, she could tell that he had a wide grin. "Ooh, that had to hurt!"

She laughed, feeling so, so giddy, and she wrapped her arms around his torso to give him a big hug, causing him to stumble slightly, but he caught his balance. He didn't know what to do. What do you do when a random pretty girl throws herself at you? In Adrian's case, just stand there awkwardly as she hugs you. It wasn't exactly an experience he was well versed in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you like that," she apologised, her cheeks burning. She pulled away from him and stepped backward. 

"No, no, it's okay," he insisted, trying to sound as confident as possible. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh... are you, y'know, good? Like, that was super cool and all, but does your fist hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, rubbing the knuckles of her right hand, which were beginning to swell. "It was kind of cool of me, wasn't it?"

"It was epic, Y/N!" He cheered. "Just super hot!"

Y/N laughed again, though this time it was far more flustered. She tried her hardest not to react in any way to his comment, but there was a prominent blush on her cheeks, which told a different story. And it only got worse when he continued to compliment her. 

"I mean, this dress is, like, perfect on you, and then you took a swing at him and..." He made a horny groan. "I gotta stop before I pop a boner."

He was expecting repulsion or disgust, but instead Y/N cackled. She had a great laugh. It was warm and bubbly, and she didn't seem to shy away from how lively it was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that last part out loud," Adrian murmured as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw him grab you and..." 

He glanced down at her wrist to find that a red mark was already forming, so Adrian gently reached for her hand and brushed his gloved thumb across the sensitive skin there. "This is going to bruise. You got any Arnica at home?" he asked, concern colouring his tone.

"Probably, yeah. I bet there's a tube somewhere in my apartment."

"It sucks. Everyone knows you don't bruise pretty girls." He tipped his head just a little bit as if he was thinking. "Unless they ask and you have spoken about boundaries and consent and degrees of impact play beforehand."

Honestly, Y/N didn't know how to respond. He'd said it so casually, almost as if he hadn't complimented her, then proceeded to talk about safe, rough sex like he was talking about the weather. He continued to stroke his thumb across the veins in the middle of her wrist, and while she appreciated the gesture, she also didn't think it was fair to Charlie to indulge in this other man literally five minutes after their argument.

"I should... I should go," Y/N muttered quietly after a moment. Vigilante nodded, reluctantly letting go of her. "Thank you, again. Thank you for cheering me up. I needed it."

"Anytime."

He smiled softly, his gaze dropping to the ground momentarily before meeting hers once again. He gave her a nod and watched as Y/N started walking away, trying her best to ignore the overwhelming desire to get to know the funny guy in the hot superhero suit. Just before she was out of sight, she turned back around to give him a little wave, which he returned without hesitation. He waved his arm from side to side rather than his hand like a child. It made her laugh once again, and that was entirely his objective.

"She was so hot, oh my god," Adrian mumbled to himself. "Focus on patrol, dude. Gotta get my mind off that fuckin' babe."

To shake away the thoughts, he literally shook his whole body. He twisted and turned and swung his arms around as if he was performing a weird dance routine. After a few moments, he stopped moving and just stood still to see if it had worked.

He bet Y/N would've found his little jiggle funny.

"Shit."

Nope. The thought of her was still firmly planted in his mind. She was stuck there, and a part of him never wanted her to leave. It certainly didn't help that he came across her in the exact same alley a week later. She wasn't in date attire this time, just a nice t-shirt and skirt, but still was a knockout.

Clearly, two drunk guys also thought so too, as she was politely trying to decline their advances despite their persistent attempts to convince her to go on a date. They both seemed oblivious to her disinterest in their proposition and kept pressing her further, making her increasingly uncomfortable. "Come on, baby, let me show you a good time!" The first one cooed, reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinched away and attempted to move out of his reach. "Aw, c'mon, why you gotta be such a prude?!"

As Y/N went to reply, she noticed a familiar red visor walking up behind the two men. Vigilante was the reason why she was here. She'd intended to thank him for giving her the confidence to officially break up with her douchebag boyfriend and offer to buy him the most expensive cocktail that the bar sold. But as they often do, a man - or in this case, two men - had to go and try to ruin a woman's night.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"There we go, sweetheart, there's that smile you were missing," the other of the pair purred.

"Look behind you," she whispered with glee.

The two of them whipped their heads around, only to immediately lose all semblance of coherent thought when they caught sight of Vigilante. Their eyes bugged out, and they began stumbling backward, trying desperately to get away from the hero. 

"Heeeeeey, Vigilante, we were just talkin' to our girl and-"

"Oh, you were just talking?"

"Uh, yep."

Vigilante narrowed his eyes. The two guys looked scared shitless now and even though the red visor obscured his dark expression, his gaze, plus his posture and body language, gave him a dangerous aura. He slowly walked closer to them, and they scrambled to try to run away. The playfulness of his usual demeanour returned for a moment to ask Y/N, "Want me to beat them up?"

"Honestly, yeah. They're dicks."

"Fuckin' sick."

In an instant, Vigilante took the lid off the nearest bin and chucked it at the legs of the fleeing men, sending them sprawling onto the concrete floor with a cry of pain. Vigilante didn't waste a second before stalking towards them and focusing on the one who'd creepily stroked Y/N's face - who he called Creep #1 in his head - and kicking him in the stomach so the guy let out a whimper.

Creep #2 attempted to crawl away, but he didn't get very far. Vigilante grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him off the ground. The man stared up at him with fear in his eyes and started spouting gibberish, begging for forgiveness. Vigilante ignored him and lifted him right off the ground before slamming him against the wall. "Personally, I think you should apologise to the pretty lady. What do you think, Y/N? Do you want an apology?"

"I'd love an apology."

"You heard the lady," Vigilante urged, "Apologise."

Pathetically, the guy babbled out a few words, none of them understandable, before finally settling on the fact that he was sorry. With that being said, he started sobbing like an infant, begging for mercy and for someone else to save him. The sound of his pleas did nothing to deter Vigilante, however, and he simply dragged Creep #1 beside his buddy and held a gun to his head. "Your turn," Adrian hissed menacingly, pointing the barrel into Creep #1's temple.

Thanks to their previous meeting, Y/N knew that he hadn't clicked the safety off and knew that he was just threatening them like he'd done to her ex-boyfriend. She could indulge in the power of having Vigilante as a guard dog without having to worry that he was actually going to blow their brains out. Well, he could. With one little click, he could make this situation very messy. 

Maybe it would be best if she cut this short in order to prevent that from happening.

"If you promise to leave women who you don't know alone, I'll let you run away now," Y/N offered, and they were nodding frantically. 

They didn't need to be told twice and rushed to mumble out apologies before running away and disappearing down the opposite end of the alley.

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

"I was looking for you."

This was unheard of. Nobody ever sought him out. Usually, it was the other way around.

"You were looking for me? Like, really?"

"Really."

He swung his arms back and forth like a child who couldn't sit still as the excitement bubbled up inside him. The possibility that she'd had one thought - even one that was fleeting and negative - about him was huge news. Their time together, no matter how short it had been, had left an imprint on her brain.

"I just wanted to, um, buy you a beer or cocktail or a smoothie or a coffee. Whatever you want, actually."

"What about a hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, I'll get you a hot chocolate. I don't know if there's a coffee shop open at this time, but we can look."

So, the search began. She began to walk out of the alley in search of a cafe, and he hurried after her, trying not to make a fool of himself by tripping over his own because he couldn't stop staring at her ass. Did he stumble after every other step? Yes, yes he did. Adrian caught up with her eventually. She'd been talking to him about something, probably guesstimating how far they'd have to walk, and thanks to the mask, she had no idea that his brain was switching between 'wow, she has a great ass' and 'stop being a fucking pervert.'.

Soon, a glowing Starbucks logo could be seen in the glowing distance, and, luckily, it was in the safer part of town that she'd parked in. Y/N guided him towards her vehicle.

"Why are you buying me hot chocolate?"

Y/N nonchalantly shrugged and kept her eyes on the street ahead of her. "To say thanks for saving me from an awful relationship... and just then, I guess, so double thanks."

"Oh." He was so relieved that she couldn't see the dopey expression on his face or the pink across his cheeks and nose. "Double you're welcome, then."

The pair decided that it would be best if they used the drive-through. The wanted serial murderer Vigilante couldn't walk into a Starbucks without someone calling the cops on him. That wouldn't have gone down well at all. Besides, it was nice for them to continue their alone time.

While Y/N ordered and interacted with the bored teen at the drive-through window, Vigilante ducked down into the footwell in the hopes he couldn't be seen. "Who's that guy?" The college kid at the window asked as they pointed towards the lump of Kevlar in the passenger's seat. 

Furrowing her brows as if she was confused by the question, Y/N smirked, "What guy?" and drove away before any further investigation could be conducted, leaving the poor kid to wonder whether he was seeing things.

They parked up in a nearby lot and just sat there, talking, both taking sips of their hot chocolates as they spoke. It was a bit weird to watch an adult man push a straw up his superhero mask in order to consume a whipped cream-topped drink, but Y/N had to admit that he was quite cute while doing so. And even when their drinks had completely depleted, they continued talking. Adrian had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be on patrol, but as much as he tried, he was unable to focus properly on anything else when Y/N was sitting next to him with that beautiful smile of hers.

"How does your mask work?" Y/N enquired, and there was a hint of something in her voice that Adrian couldn't quite place in the moment, but he would come to understand in a minute or two.

"It's a pull-on."

"Yeah?" She leaned across the gearstick, her fingers drifting from the centre of his chest up to the hemline of his mask. She hesitated a moment before her forefinger delved underneath the fabric. "Is it a full-on/full-off kind of thing? Or can you, y'know, roll it up to here?"

With her other hand, she poked at the area between the top of his lip and nose.

"It can roll," Adrian said in almost a whisper. His heart was beating hard and fast. 

Why wasn't he doing anything? She was one tug away from revealing his identity, and he just sat there, completely frozen. He watched as she lifted the bottom of his mask and rolled it up enough to reveal his mouth, which was parted slightly in surprise. Did he have any idea what she was doing and why he was letting her do this? No, not a clue. Did he just accept whatever it was she'd planned, assuming that would respect his boundaries despite the fact that they didn't really know each other?

Luckily, what she wanted to do was exactly the same as what he wanted to do.

"Vigilante?"

"Hmmm...?"

He'd often been told that he was dumb, but right here in this moment, he was so glad that there was nothing in his brain. He couldn't form a coherent sentence, so he didn't even try. He willingly let her tilt his chin and didn't even try to hide the way his breath hitched because of that.

"I don't have a boyfriend anymore. I'm completely single and want to thank you for saving me. So...?"

"Oh!"

Now, he understood. His lips were on hers immediately, and he kissed her with everything he had in him. His hands moved to cup her cheeks, fingers ghosting along the contour of her face until they met her hair and tangled themselves in her strands, holding her to him like a lifeline.

"You taste like hot chocolate," he mumbled against her mouth as he pulled away, causing her smile to stretch wider than she thought possible.

"So do you."

She smiled coyly, her voice barely above a murmur, before she leaned back in again. They kissed again. And again. Each time growing more heated than the last.

"C'mere," he whined as he moved his arm around her hips, gently tugging her across the console and onto his lap. She brought her legs up on either side of him, allowing herself to press against his chest and her hands gripping onto the fabric of his suit.

With every passing second and each smack of their lips, the desire that was beginning to build up in Adrian grew stronger. His suit was great for battle, but thanks to his mask and gloves, his touch sensitivity was severely lacking, so he broke apart for as long as it took to bite his gloves off. As soon as they were removed, he couldn't stop the way his palms had drifted from where they started just above her knee up to her thigh, the edge of her skirt brushing against his bare hand, and up and up and up until he had a handful of her ass.

"Fuck," Adrian muttered as he felt her panties under his thumb. He couldn't think of a better word to describe the sensation. It was overwhelming. Exhilarating. And so, so sexy. 

It was 'Fuck.' 

"Fuck," she echoed. The word was breathless, a little husky, and filled with longing and need. She had to pull away. Her breath was heavy, her chest rising and falling in excitement as they looked at each other with lustful eyes. "Do you wanna, - I can't believe I'm going to ask this like we're horny teenagers - wanna get in the backseat?"

Vigilante stared at her for what seemed to be forever as he processed what she'd said. A smirk found its way onto his lips, making his dimples appear. "You mean, like, fuckin'? Right?" he felt the need to confirm, just to make sure. 

He'd read situations like this wrong before, and he didn't want to fuck this up. She nodded and laughed a short, breathy laugh, and suddenly, he was laughing too.

"Awesome, I'd be honoured to fuck you."

Though her car wasn't the biggest, she was climbing past the gap between the front seats. For a few brief seconds, her ass was directly beside his head, and, yeah, Adrian wasn't going to pass up a chance to spank her. "Hey!" She exclaimed, though there wasn't a hint of anger in her tone or annoyance on her features. 

Instead, Y/N sat in the backseat and beckoned Vigilante to follow her with a seductive finger curl. Obviously, he complied and was crawling his way into the back of the vehicle for some debauchery. The car got all steamed up from all their heavy breathing and general sweatiness combined. It wasn't the most comfortable they'd ever been, to say the least, but they were still incredibly satisfied when all was said and done.

Y/N flopped her forehead onto Vig's shoulder pad as she caught her breath, her heart rate slowly coming back down to normal after their physical activity.

"I really liked fucking you," he said bluntly, "Like, seriously, that was amazing. Fuckin' fantastic."

"I really liked being fucked by you."

She did an extremely unattractive snort, but that didn't deter him from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Their faces were inches apart, and he could see all of her freckles and each little detail of her facial features. He wanted to memorise every single one of them, no matter how fleeting these moments might turn out to be.

Vigilante placed a soft, gentle kiss on the side of her head and put a hand behind her neck to massage it gently, making her sigh blissfully and relax more into his embrace. "We should go soon. I think this parking lot closes at 12," he commented. Y/N looked up at the visor still covering his gaze, her eyes going all doe-ish, and hummed in agreement. 

Yeah, she wanted to stay in this moment for as long as she was allowed to, but she'd definitely be fined, and her car would be stuck in the lot until the morning. 

"I have an apartment," she added.

"Oh, cool. So do I."

"Let me rephrase that. I have an apartment with a big, comfy bed that I wouldn't mind - " Y/N paused to brush her thumb along his bottom lip. " - sharing with you."

"...Wha? Are you being for real? Am I dreaming?" 

This was going so well that there was a high probability that it was a fantasy. Maybe if Adrian closed his eyes hard enough, he'd wake up to find himself lying in bed at home with a wet patch on the sheets. But they proceeded to repeat the debauchery as soon as they stepped within the threshold of her apartment, and then they repeated it again and again. And again the next day. And the day after that too. And quickly, a routine began.

Every night, Vigilante would: 1) carry out his patrol, 2) make his way to her apartment, and 3) then tug the bottom half of his mask up as he knocked on her front door. He would be bringing her into a snog the second she was revealed to him.

They didn't always fuck - though it was more often than not - but often found themselves chatting away instead, laughing or telling stories, and sometimes even just kissing. It was as if they were a couple, except for the fact she had no idea who he was.

But she would. Life has a way of making things happen, no matter how unexpected or unwanted the thing may have been. Was it Y/N's choice to go to Fennel Fields for a family dinner? No, that was her father's fault. He'd heard that the mozzarella sticks were pretty tasty, and that was enough to sway her ol' pa.

Throughout the dinner, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She had no idea whether it was malicious voyeurism or maybe she just had something in her teeth. Either way, she could feel eyes burning a hole through her skull. She glanced around for a clue of what was going on or who it might be, but there was no sign of anything amiss.

"You okay, honey?" Y/N's mother whispered, noticing how distracted she had been. It wasn't that unusual for Y/N to zone out during family dinners, especially when her brother's stories got super boring, which they often did. 

"Hmmm...? Yes, yeah, I'm okay." Her eyes scanned the restaurant once more. Still nothing. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

On her way to the ladies, Y/N noticed a certain busboy with serial killer specs that seemed somewhat familiar to her. A customer asked him a question, and he tilted his head to the side and looked upwards as if he was searching his brain for what to say. Weird. Vigilante did that too. 

It had been hard to notice at first. The visor hid most of his facial mannerisms, but she always had a particular fondness for his eyes. Honestly, it may have been a coincidence. People are allowed to share mannerisms. A lot of people talk with their hands, but that simple commonality doesn't mean the individuals are alike in any way. 

So, she let it slide and went to the bathroom just as she said she would.

It was unfortunate for Adrian that the layout of the restaurant meant that to get to the kitchen, you'd have to pass by the entrance to the bathrooms. He'd been attempting to avoid Y/N as soon as he saw her arrive. That became impossible to do as the pair bumped into each other when he walked directly in front of the bathroom door as she was exiting it.

If he didn't have super quick reflexes, they both would have been wiped out. He managed to regain his footing and grabbed hold of her elbows to steady her and stopped Y/N from tumbling backward. His eyes widened as soon as he realised who was before him, and he quickly let go of her arms as soon as he registered who she was.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry. Did I-"

Same mannerisms, same voice, and now that he was up close, she could see that the bottom half of his face was similar to. She hovered her palm over the top portion of his face, and yeah, things made sense now. This random busboy was Vigilante. There was no way she could've mistaken him. 

She cooed, "Hey, baby."

Every single particle of Adrian's being wanted to soften, but he kept his mouth in a frown. Sure, the corners of his lips kept twitching upwards, but he was trying.

"D-do, do I k-know you?" He stammered, though he was very unconvincing. 

The cat was out of the bag, and there wasn't any way it could be stuffed back in. Not when she titled his name badge so she could read what it said.

"I'll see you later, Adrian. Leave this uniform on for me. There's no need to dress up, okay?"

With those words, she gave him a peck on the cheek and returned to her family dinner without giving him the chance to protest. Adrian stared after her for what felt like hours before his manager yelled at him to get back to work.

Working after that was hard. His mind was elsewhere. It was running through all the scenarios that could go wrong because of this interaction. All of them ended terribly. And all of them ensured that his work performance had plummeted dramatically. So dramatically, in fact, that his boss thought he'd come down with some fast-acting disease and sent him home early.

Adrian was at Y/N's apartment half an hour before she got home. He'd debated with himself about picking her lock multiple times but ultimately decided against it since he was dressed as himself and one of her neighbours had greeted him as they passed.

"Fancy seeing you here, Vig." She whispered his name teasingly and smiled at him as she opened the door for him.

"Uh... hi," he murmured, unsure of what else he should say. He cleared his throat and tried for a nonchalant, "...Can I come in?"

"You usually just walk in these days," she responded, closing the door behind him and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Well... um..." He scratched the back of his head nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I wanted to see you. And, uh, for you to... see me. I totally understand if you're not into it now that the mystery is gone, but-"

He was cut off as Y/N pulled him closer by his collar, placing her hands on either side of his face and pressing her lips against his own. Adrian's eyes closed as he reciprocated the kiss, slowly leaning his body closer and closer towards hers.

"I imagined what you looked like so many times."

"I'm sorry. You probably were expecting -"

Once again, he was interrupted by Y/N snogging the hell out of him. "You're better than what I expected, so pretty," she breathed between kisses. Adrian ran his fingers through her hair and held her firmly against him. Their tongues entwined together, sending sparks of electricity throughout their bodies.

It took 0.0000002 seconds for him to come to a decision on how to proceed. His shirt was whipped off and thrown somewhere else before his lips pressed against hers and pinned her to the nearest wall.

"Promise to keep my secret?"

"What secret?"

"...The Vigilante thing."

"Yeah, I know. I was doing the... forget it. I promise not to tell anyone about your alter ego, Vee."

Y/N giggled when she felt Adrian's nose gently bump hers. Gently, she took his hand and led him towards her bedroom. She'd done that so many times before, yet this was the first instance where she got to witness the lovesick look on his face.

From here on out, she would continue to see that look since it had never left his face when she was around. And if he happened to have his visor on, she knew what was hidden underneath and how dopey of a smile he'd have.

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