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lovebugism · 10 months

Note

vacation, cocktails, stevie in the tiniest shorts… I mean 😮‍💨

thanks for your request lovey!! — the one where steve takes you to the beach, but him in his bathing suit is the real view (established relationship, smut 18+, 2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Steve jokes as he passes you a cocktail. It’s a red, yellow, and blue colored drink with an orange slice wedged into the top of it. It’s about as tropical as a beachside bar can get.

The rainbow colors match his color-blocked swim trunks, though the fabric is far more muted in hue. They make his tanned skin look that much more golden. You can’t figure out which shade is most his color, though, no matter how hard you ogle.

Steve spent a better part of the day smiling with delight every time he caught you staring. He’d been a bit scared to wear the shorts, in truth. They were far too long to be considered a speedo but revealed more of his thighs than normal trunks did. Then he saw how much you loved them and never wanted to take them off.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you take the blended drink from him. “It’s just… It’s staring me right in the face, babe.”

“Shut up,” Steve huffs out a laugh, descending on the lounge seat next to yours.

You’ve been on vacation for four days now, playing house in his parents’ beachside condo. He wears the bliss of holiday all over him, tanned skin glittering beneath a golden hour sun. He’s almost constantly shirtless because it’s so damn hot out — which has done nothing but give you ample time to leer at his toned torso, dusted with marred scars beneath sprinkles of chestnut hair.

But it’s his thighs that get you. Those goddamn perfect thighs you want to take a bite out of and ride all at once.

No one should look so good in such a tiny pair of shorts. You think it should be a crime, really. And the worst part about all of it is Steve has virtually no idea what he’s doing to you.

He just sits there next to you and laughs at your ogling — like there's anything remotely funny about the heart palpitations he’s giving you just from looking so damn good.

“I’m so glad I got you those shorts,” you confess, mostly to yourself, before sipping at the bendy straw in your cup. The fruity slush cools your warm skin almost instantly.

“Yeah,” Steve hums with a lopsided smile. His rosy lips match the sunburn on his cheekbones. “They fit like a glove, don’t they?”

You know he’s saying that just to tease you, but you nod anyway. “Yes, they do,” you singsong quietly, chewing at the end of your straw and getting lost in your leering.

It makes Steve chuckle to himself. “Alright, babe. Keep it in your pants.”

“I’d love to get into your pants, actually.”

“You’re in rare form today, aren’t you?” Steve wonders through his laughter.

Being beachside looked good on you — being away from Hawkins looked good on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you relax in a while. Like, really relax. No monsters to hunt, no children to run after, no parents to impress. It’s just you and him and an orange sun.

And also a bar that serves alcohol that tastes like juice that you’re currently downing like it’s nothing.

“I’m tipsy and in love,” you shrug. “Sue me.”

Steve smacks his lips against his teeth. “Nah. I’m tipsy and in love, too, so… I guess I can’t really blame you…”

His admission of love makes you smile. You’ve surely heard it a million times now, but your chest sparkles like it’s the very first.

You grow suddenly soft. “Thanks for bringing me here, Stevie…”

His sheepish grin matches your own. “Thanks for coming with me, baby.”

He reaches a hand out towards you — which you take without thinking twice.

His long fingers are warm as they engulf your own. Your arms sway in the inches of space separating the two of you, knuckles gently brushing the white sand beneath you. And even though you’re touching him, you can’t help but crave more.

“You’re so far away,” you observe with a slight pout furrowing your brows.

Steve scoffs a gentle laugh. “I’m literally holding your hand.”

“Yeah, but like…” You trail off as you try to find the words to say — how to say them without sounding pathetic. Your nose scrunches softly with your admission. “I need you…”

“Need me?” he wonders with pinched brows.

He’s concerned at first, because he’s always concerned at first.

He’s been on the defense since 1984. It’s practically in his nature, at this point. It takes him a second to realize you don’t actually need help — that you’re not in Hawkins anymore, and there’s no reason to look over his shoulder.

His honey eyes go wide in realization a moment later. His pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh. Like, need me, need me?”

You hum with a distant, tipsy smile.

“Need you, need you, need you,” you repeat thrice for effect.

Despite his similar desire that blooms like a flower in his chest, he urges, “Finish your drink first, ‘kay?”

Your pout returns. “Why?”

“‘Cause it was expensive as shit, and I don’t want it going to waste,” he explains with a chuckle.

You nod in return. “Yes, sir…”

Your mouth curls around the straw again. A smile quirks your lips as you watch the boy next to you squirm in his seat — your words having a rather obvious effect on him.

You swallow down the strawberry slush, now turning into a sour lemon, and blink away a brain freeze.

“You okay over there, Stevie?” you tease.

He nods with jutted-out lips. “Mm-hmm. Yep. Perfect.”

—————

One Tropical Rainbow Paradise cocktail later, and Steve’s leading you to his cabana.

It’s more private than a normal one. Far more lavish, too. It’s like a tiny studio apartment — made of three walls and a thick curtain in place of a door. There’s a television hung below the ceiling, a small bed pushed up against the wood, and a clawfoot tub idling on the other side.

You figure you’ll have ample time to ride Steve in the bath later.

Your mouth waters for a taste of him now.

It’s why you fall to your knees no more than a second after you’ve latched the curtain shut.

Steve’s eyes go wide as he watches you. He nearly stumbles backward onto the mattress behind him because the very sight of you makes his legs buckle.

“Whoa, babe— Let me put a pillow under you first—”

“I don’t care about that,” you dismiss with the shake of your head. Your fingers curl around the hem of his trunks as you blink up at him. “Just take your clothes off.”

He nods, rapid and visibly enthusiastic.

You don’t pull his shorts all the way down, just enough to free his half-hard cock. You slip the band beneath his heavy balls and wrap his dick in your hand, wetting your palm with your tongue first to ease the friction.

You work him slowly with your wrist and lick the pearly bead of precum from his flushed tip like it’s muscle memory to you. The rough pad of your tongue flicking over the most sensitive part of him drives him wild. A groan rumbles in his chest, muffled through his clenched jaw and teeth.

“Fuck— These trunks are really doing it for you, huh?” he teases after his fleeting senses return to him.

You blink up at him, only halfway amused. “Be careful, Stevie. I don't know if you noticed, but I have your dick in my hand.”

A crooked grin pulls at his pink lips. “Yeah… Go ahead and put your mouth on it, sweetheart,” he instructs lowly. “Maybe I’ll let you ride it after— shit.”

Your lips wrap fully around his reddening tip.

His breath catches in his throat when you lick over him like a lollipop. Your tongue dips over his drooling slit. The salty tang of him makes you moan under your breath.

Your lips abandon his cock soon after. You keep jerking him with your fist while you bring your mouth to his balls. You know he likes that best. He’s more sensitive there than most men are and spurned on by the sight of it even more so.

The sounds of your suckling and the vision of you nuzzling against his length has his orgasm creeping up his spine.

Your mouth widens as your tongue trails up the thick vein at the underside of his cock, leading all the way to his flushed, bulbous tip.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Steve sighs, right before a whine spills from his throat. His palms are wide and warm as they settle over your temples, his fingers crawling into your hair.

He doesn’t guide you at all — you know what he likes better than he does, really. He doesn’t pull you closer to him, either. He just holds you. He uses you like an anchor when his impending orgasm threatens to pull his head underwater.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he repeats, this time in a more firm groan. His cock jerks faintly in your mouth while he babbles. “Gonna make me come like this… So good for me, baby. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me. Just a little bit more…”

You know what he needs. He blinks, and suddenly his cock is stuffed down your throat. Both of you are barely breathing by then, equally spurned on by his rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Oh, shit, babe— fuck,” he whines, voice breaking when you swallow around him. He tilts his head to the ceiling and talks himself through his orgasm with gritted teeth. “Yeah. Gag on it— let me feel you, baby… Fuck, yes... 'S gonna make me come so hard. You’re gonna swallow it for me, yeah? Take everything I give you?”

With his cock stuffing your throat, you show him better than you can tell him.

His cock spits several warm loads within your waiting throat. You swallow it all down without complaint — not because it tastes good exactly, but because you love having a mouthful of him.

His golden thighs tremble under your hands as your nails rake gently over his skin.

A blissful sigh trembles in his flushed chest when you pull back from him. Even though your jaw aches and your throat is sore, you find it in you to smile as you drag your finger over the dribbles of cum at the corner of your mouth.

Steve swears he almost comes again when you lick the remnants of his pearly load off the pad of your thumb.

“What do ya say?” you find it in you to tease despite your current predicament. You’re still kneeling in front of him, blinking up at him with heavy watering eyes, saliva glistening on your chin. “Did I earn my seat, Stevie?”

Swallowing through a tight throat, he nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Definitely, yeah. Fuck.”

The bed creaks under his weight when he lies in the center of it. Now fully naked, his tanned skin contrasts heavily with the all-white sheets beneath him. His honey hair is wild as he leans against the fluffy pillows.

He beckons you to him with a wave of his hands.

“C’mere,” he tells you, pink tongue darting out to wet his swollen lips a second later.

You untie your bikini in record time. You rise on the mattress and swing your knee over his hip. Your glistening pussy rests just over his stomach, pretty enough to taste.

“Uh-uh,” Steve hums with the shake of his head, waving his hands again. “Come here.”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

“Closer,” he commands.

Still a bit confused, you shift further up his waist — only a few inches, though, because you’re not entirely sure what he’s asking of you.

You don’t fully understand until his wide hands curl around the backs of your thighs. He urges you up his torso himself, forcing you to grip the headboard before you topple over completely.

He shifts lower on the mattress until your knees are over his shoulders. His strong arms wrap around your thighs to pull you over his face, all but suffocating himself with your pussy.

His scruffy jaw scratches softly at your inner thighs — a stark contrast with the way his soft mouth suckles at your weeping cunt.

You’re practically gushing over his face the second his lips wrap around your clit.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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superluver · 11 months

Text

Dingy Camera G.S.

6.2k words | cw: Angst, Gore, Character death, MAJOR JJK MANGA SPOILERS, S2 Spoilers, (No)happy ending/ slight comfort, Follows the Events of Gojo's Past arc+un-canon events at ending for the plot, MAJOR mental health warning, FEM READER

THIS STORY DOES NOT CONTAIN PEDOPHILIA

Gojo is very pushy

Description: Gojo was in love with you—his Highschool teacher and the strongest sorcerer of your time— who had known him since he was young. You don't see him in that light, but he is stubborn, even as a highschool student. You are watching your students grow up, becoming stronger with each passing second. And after the failed Star-Plasma Vessel trip, you set out on a man-hunt for your father, who is harboring a new woman's body as his own...

☆*:.｡. Starting here .｡.:*☆

It's dark in the apartment, well.. condo— he is a rich man after all— yet, he can see it all.

He remembers his way around the place, has for many years. He doesn’t even need his six eyes to know where he stands.

He just knows.

When he bought the condo, he purchased the furniture along with it, to keep that memory alive. It was all he had left. Sometimes he wonders if she were alive, how strange it would be, if the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo clan’s prized possessions all sat at a dinner table, chatting about their days in peace.

He finds himself standing at the table, near the door, with a photograph. A much older woman, patting his and Suguru’s head aggressively, her chin laying on Shoko’s. Her grin was broad, a cigarette peeking out from the corner of her mouth. He and Suguru had an annoyed expression, hence the blurry photo. It was them trying to pull her off them as she was pressing their heads down so she would appear taller.

She was tall already, but two boys that were in the midst of their puberty, skyrocketing like a bean sprout, was a bit degrading to her very large ego. Her upper arm, hardly visible to the camera’s view, has a cloth— the exact same Satoru uses to cover her arm— wrapped around it with a cute little bunny knot that pokes from the side.

He closes his eyes, pulling the cloth from his eyes, breathing out.

“Hey, Sensei! Spar with me!” Satoru shouts, he’s a first year, not knowing anyone but you, the woman who watched him grow up. “Hah?” You chuckle, shaking your head with a smoking cigarette peeking from the corner.

You're sitting at your desk in your chair, it has wheels, which you occasionally spin in circles when no one is watching. Though, since your class is in session, you lay your feet on the wooden desk, which is dented from the amount of time you’ve slammed your heels on it. With your free hand— the other occupied with a newspaper— you shoo him off, continuing, “No way, you’re too weak. And,” you fwip your newspaper, “I’m busy, as you can see.”

He gapes, extremely offended. “I’m the strongest there is!” He shouts, his thumb pointing at his chest, which he puffs out.

“Alright, strongest.” You tease, watching his face grow red as you bare what you like to call, a shit eating grin.

“Let’s see, how strong are you?”

Your head turns to your other first year students, Suguru and Shoko.

Suguru sits with his head in hit palm, clearly dazed and exhausted, and Shoko has her head up in the air, leaning back in her seat with a straw in her mouth. Her arms dangling at her side.

The nearing summer heat is killing all of you, but it's impacting your classes too. The windows are open to let the breeze in, but if you close it, the classroom will turn into an oven. You have a fan running in the background, but only at you.

You know what they say, beggars can’t be choosers.

“If— if I win, we get the fan.”

Suguru and Shoko’s ears perk up, their attention on their classmate.

You shrug, placing the newspaper down. “Alright,” your fingers take the cigarette from your lips with one last puff, blowing the air away with the side of your mouth.

“Here's the deal—” you put it out on the already ashened ashtray. “If you guys win, I’ll buy all three of you fans” you tell them, holding three fingers up, then pointing to your own. “And you can even have mine.”

Then, you smile, it's a scary one that sends shivers down Satoru’s back. “But if I win, not only will the three of you work your asses off outside, you’ll be fully clothed in your uniforms, no unbuttoning, no fans, no water—”

“But Sensei, we’ll die without water!” Shoko whines, still chewing on the straw.

“No you won’t, I'll make sure you three won't. So might as well hydrate before. From dawn till dusk, we’ll train like you’ve never trained before, for the entire week, starting as soon as he loses."

That last sentence froze the room, and you continued with your closed eyes smile, waving Satoru off. “I’ll let the three of you discuss it amongst yourselves.”

He gulps, nodding before trudging back with a slouch to his friends. You observe them whisper, then watch as Satoru gets him in the head before all three of them nod.

He seems more confident, striding back. His hands slam on your desk, his glasses gleam, and that grin you taught him, “I’ll do it!”

You mirror that grin standing up, towering over the growing student, “Atta boy,”

He finds himself in the outdoor gym, right beside the track.

You, even as a teacher, never wore the Jujutsu Uniform, maybe the bottoms at times, but your top was always a tank top. In the bleachers, most of the staff. Your Colleague Mei Mei, old student Utahime, Yaga, everyone was there, to witness the worst defeat that the first years could ever experience.

“Satoru?” You call out sweetly, a newly lit cigarette sitting in the corner of your mouth. You turn, smiling to the camera that Mei Mei points at the two of you, quickly holding up a peace sign.

“Yes?”

“You have anymore conditions you wanna add before I beat you?”

He looks around, almost contemplating whether he should tell you before pointing at himself.

“Go on a date with me?”

“START!”

You laugh, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it.

“In your dreams.”

Satoru is quick, activating his infinity like it’s nothing, then going in for a quick blow. “Cursed Technique Lapse—”

You yawn.

His hand is angled to you, “Blue.”

The ground beneath you is pulled, most things around are pulling into him. All but you, standing still on the ground before being thrown back at you.

It's loud, the rubble falling onto you causing gasps from the Bleachers from students. It's a cloud of smoke, and when it clears, you’re no where to be found.

Hell, even Gojo grows worried. Blood pools from underneath the rubble, and he wants to step forward, make sure you're alright, but he remembers your words.

'Satoru, if anything happens, don’t come near me. If you think the battle is over, it’s just beginning.'

He sighs, awaiting something, anything, but still, nothing. He finds himself putting down his infinity, and Suguru slaps his hand into his face, sighing. He never listens to anything anyone has to say to him.

He finally takes a step, but this is when you finally make your appearance.

“Hey, Satoru.” You groan, pushing off a large slab that sits atop of you.

“You really— wow that was heavy —you need to start listening to the things we adults tell you.” You sigh, bringing a hand in front of yourself, clenching your fist with only your pointer finger out, pointing it at him.

“Cursed Technique,” Your blood behind to fly in front of you, turning into objects similar to needles.

You smile at him, not saying anything else, and he tries again, only to find you were tricking him.

The needles fly, hitting his pressure points.

His eyes fly open, before he falls, paralyzed.

Your binding vow allows you to access a higher amount of your cursed energy for every attack given. Blood Manipulation, a technique handed to you from your Clan, Kamo, allows you to manipulate your own blood at will. You decided to create a binding bow with yourself, allowing you to create a higher input of Cursed energy, to 120% into your attacks. Every attack given to you, that causes you to lose blood, would cause an even greater attack to be inflicted on the person because of this. It's confusing to explain, but you made sure to demonstrate it to your first years.

Satoru just doesn't listen.

Mei Mei is still taking photos of the ordeal with your camera, sure to share them with Yuki, your former classmate.

Satoru stares up at you, who is looking down at him with a smile, your hair falling with gravity, the sun behind your head, illuminating your strands.

“I am the strongest for a reason.” You grin at him, kneeling down and placing a palm on his chest, taking back your blood, which sits in a ball in your hand.

You turn to the bleachers, whistling to your other students who are in the midst of running away.

“Cmere.”

They sigh, walking off.

“I’ve got an errand to run, so you’re going to stay with Yaga—”

“WHAT!” Yaga shouts in the distance, but you ignore him completely, continuing, “and his students. Kapeesh?” You point at them.

They all nod, and you help Satoru up, patting his shoulder.

“Yaga, make sure their uniforms are completely buttoned up, no water, nothing. Just make 'em run. I don't want to see a jog, no walk, just run.”

He nods slowly, watching you send him a thumbs up before patting Shoko’s head.

You scurry off, and are gone for quite some time. So long in fact, that it's already dusk. The trio is sweaty, out of breath panting, and overall exhausted. They walk back to the classroom, the hallways are hot and expect the room to be an oven, yet when they enter, it’s chilly.

On their desks, each their own fan, and you, with your arms crossed, asleep.

No matter how annoying their teacher was, she was always the best.

Was.

By the time they became second years, you were always in and out, or just on the phone. Yaga was now their teacher, but you are still their favorite. Days when you were there, they would sit in your classroom after ditching Yaga’s, sitting with Kento and Yu.

“You three better run off back to your class.” You tell them, smoking with your reading glasses sitting at the bridge of your nose. You has a piece of chalk in your hand as you wrote on the chalkboard, equations that now seem like a piece of cake to them.

They grew too fast over the summer, the boys towering over you. Shoko was still a short girl, who was now smoking. You wonder where she picked that up from.

“Nah! We’ll stay here.” Satoru told her, sitting in your seat and swirling around.

Defeated, you sigh, “Suit yourself.”

He stares at you as you write; really taking in your state. Eyebags that were darker than usual, chapped lips, more empty cigarettes boxes, and don't forget to mention the frequent phone calls.

And, as ironic as it sounds, your phone rings. From the title, he can see a name, read as Yuki.

You click your tongue, placing the hall down and running your hand through your hair. As you pass by, you place a hand on his head, ruffling it while flipping open your phone.

“Yea, Yuki?” Then, you walk out.

Your voice is muffled, slowly fading out the more you walk down the hallway. The last thing he could make out was the word ‘Dad’.

The five students sit in awkward silence before Satoru finally breaks the ice.

“What’s up with her?”

The question was for everyone in general, but mainly towards the first years, who got to see her more than he did, which did get him jealous.

“A mission! Supposedly she’s hunting someone down.” Yu speaks up, and Satoru quickly asks.

“Who?”

“A man named K—”

“We don’t know.” Kento speaks up, and it's obvious he’s lying considering the fact that Yu was about to say the man's name.

He didn't press any longer, only narrowing his eyes. Then, humming, leaning back in her seat. It smelt just like her.

He closed his eyes, the plan running through his mind. He nods, thinking how genius he is.

Later, he finds himself in your apartment, sitting at your dining table.

You would jump if you didn’t feel his cursed energy waving from the parking lot.

“Well, here we have a rogue student.” You joke, slipping your shoes off at the door.

“Your shoes off?”

He looks down at his feet, then back up, nodding. “I remember some things.”

You grin, “I know, I didn't make you completely useless.”

It's silent, his eyes wander to the stove. The time was 3:42am, he had been waiting for her for a long time.

“What were you doing?” He asks, staring as she begins boiling water. “Hm? Mission. Tea?” You ask, trying to lighten his mood and overall pressing.

He shakes his head, and you stare at him. His clothes are changed, hair damp, almost completely dry. “Who are you hunting—”

The handle of your tea cup breaks off, the base falling to the ground. It shatters, you stare down at it blankly.

“Satoru.” You say his name coldly, the kettle begins to whistle loud.

“My affairs have nothing to do with you.”

The distance between the two of you is great, like a ripple in time, about immeasurable.

“B-but! I can help you—!”

“Satoru!” You shout, glaring at him, your eyes glowing, face darkens. You calm when you see his expression, almost hurt, and scared. His eyebrows contorted, his lips parted. “Satoru.” You whisper now, walking to him with your arm open. You embrace him, his head to your stomach. Fingers play in his white hair.

“I don’t want you getting hurt. The last thing I want of you is for you to get hurt. This is my own burden,” you take his face in your hands, smiling, “You understand? Taking the future away from children is unforgivable.”

He sighs heavily, wondering when you would stop seeing him as a child, and in a new light as a man.

“I’m not a kid.” He grumbles, his arms wrap around your torso willingly.

“Then a baby,” you joke with a coo, shaking him left and right softly.

“Mei is taking Iori on a mission, I’ll be accompanying them. So, we’ll be gone for no longer than a day.” You inform, stroking his head.

He nods, his eyes growing heavy.

“If you're tired, go to bed.”

“No.”

You shake your head, a light chuckle escaping past your lips. So stubborn. “Suit yourself.”

You go back around to the kitchen, turning off the kettle. “I’ll go shower, your tea is ready.” You tell him, walking over and holding his cup by the rim, placing it on the coaster in front of him. His eyes stare at the cup, almost cautiously. He nods, taking the cup from the table.

By the time you're done, you find the boy asleep upright on the chair, his head down and eyes closed, small snores escaping his lips.

You find yourself scurrying to your table by the door, rummaging through the drawer to pull out an old camera, snapping pictures of him. You laugh, placing the camera on the table he’s at, kneeling in front of him to stare.

You don't remember him growing up this fast, it kind of hurts.

Your hand goes up to his face, squeezing his nose to stop him from breathing. His eyes open wide, and you laugh at his panicked face.

“To bed with you.” You whisper, and he tiredly nods, taking your hand as you lead him to the guest bedroom, but he stops when you try to pull him into the room.

“Satoru,”

He looks down with a pout, his shaggy hair covering his eyes.

“I want to sleep with you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your head with a sigh before leading him to your room. Allowing him to open your sheets and sprawl into your bed. You tuck him back in, patting his stomach as you lay down.

“Just like when you were a child. Always asking your parents to sleep over, and of course I let them. You were so cute!” You exclaim, positioning yourself to your side. He stares up into the ceiling, and you watch him. Your head on your hand.

“Stop staring into Narnia, sleep—”

“You won’t die, will you?”

His voice is soft, and he won't look at you. He doesn’t want to see how you're staring at him. Your eyes wide, lips puffed, clearly taken aback.

“Ah, what makes you say that?” You whisper, your tone dropping.

“You don’t sleep, your never home—”

“You’ve been in my house?”

He pouts, “Technically, it’s not a house.”

You laugh at his response. “Satoru, I’m a human.”

“But the strongest.”

“You’ve seen me bleed. I don’t plan on dying right now, but everyone dies, some sooner than others.”

Now, he finally turns to you and your smiling face. He doesn’t cry, not that you’re surprised. He's never cried.

You hear him breathe out a hum, closing his eyes. A smile graces your lips, and you brush his stray hairs from his twitching nose, which tickles him.

“Good night,” you whisper, before getting up and sitting at the chair beside your bed, and wrapping a blanket around yourself.

After a few days of no sleep, it finally hits you like bricks, a shame you have to wake up at seven, but you’ll be sure to thank those two hours of sleep that grace your schedule.

—

The yawn that passes your lips is atrocious. It's the 13th one that you’ve done, and Iori is growing irritated. “Sensei—”

“(Y/N) to you champ,” You correct her, and she bites back her tongue.

“(Y/N)-san.. did you sleep by any chance?” She asks, smiling with tight lips. You, on the other hand, raise an eyebrow, your head leaning on Mei Mei's shoulder, who’s clicking through her red flip phone.

“My personal life is none of your concern.” You tell her.

You swear, the younger these new sorcerers are, the more disrespectful they get.

It’s raining, the roads are wet and slippery. Silence fills the vehicle, aside from the frequent wipes of the window shields and Mei tapping through her phone. You don’t even remember dozing off, just appearing in front of a screwed up house.

Iori turns around, staring at her old teacher and new colleague. She respects her, but can’t stand her. She is the reason Gojo is the way he is.

“You have to keep watch out here in case anything happens.”

With your pinky finger deep in your ear, you're clearly disinterested. “Yeah yeah..” waving them off, Mei mei gives you one final look, her features resembled that of a feline, elegant and cool, she smiles, striding off with her umbrella behind the young sorcerer.

“Two hours!” You shout at their disappearing figures.

That's the reason you were there, to determine whether this was a time warping curse. It’s quite possible the flow of time is distorted in there.

So you sat, and waited. And waited, and waited, until two hours did pass.

With a sigh, you take out your flip phone, dialing Yaga and explaining to him the situation.

“The flow of time is different here, yeah. Utahime is with Mei. … After two days, come assist if Utahime can’t get it.”

You close your device, trudging into the building. Your eyes close, the smell of blood reeks, but you continue to follow the familiar cursed energy, followed by a high pitched scream.

“With a scream like that, you could be a scream queen.” You laugh, throwing your head back.

“Kamo-san!” Utahime exclaims, almost in relief.

“Yoohoo!” You greet, waving your hand at her, the other lost in your pocket.

“Have you figured it out yet?” You ask, your head tilting.

She stares at you, almost annoyed.

“Not yet.”

“You best hurry,” you start, fishing a cigarette from your pocket. It’s not boxed, your pocket is just full of cigarettes. The other pocket held the lighter. Your hand cups it, lighting the cigarette. A cloud of smoke hits her in the face, and you laugh at her, pointing as she waving her hand away.

“Sorry about that, but anyways,” your pointer finger is pointing in the air, moving in circles. “Time is running differently in here.”

“I had the feeling,” Mei says, standing besides you.

“Go on Utahime, figure it out.” You shoo her, sitting on the ground of the hallway. It's dirty, dust and bugs crawling throughout the space, but you’ve dealt with worse.

In a daze, you hear Utahime and Mei’s muffled voice, a couple thuds, then the ground, which you were sitting on, crumbling apart.

The three of you in a free fall, though the only one panicking seems to me Utahime.

You're falling in circles, hair flying everywhere, cigarette still in your mouth, you take off the bandage from your finger, opening the scab and drip blood. You bring the heat of your blood to almost boiling, turning it into vapor so you can stay above in the air.

Utahime is screaming bloody murder still, and no doubt in your mind that she could be the next scream queen.

You find yourself next to Shoko, listening to Satoru tease Utahime. “You cryin?"

“No! I’m not, respect your Seniors!” She shouts, crushed by the rubble.

You ruffle Shoko’s hair before coming behind Satoru, closing your fist you knock the back of his skull.

“Ow!” He whines, holding it in pain.

“Be respectful, kid.” You scold, blowing the smoke from your cigarette away from him. Your hand grabs ahold of the large rubble that crushes Utahime, allowing her to crawl out.

“If I was crying? Would you console me?” Mei asked, Gojo responding seriously, but also playfully.

“No way! You wouldn't cry, you're strong Mei!�� He tells her, and you sigh.

Utahime, still on the ground, shoots up. The rubble pieces on her back fell, and you stared blankly at him.

“GOJO!”

Behind her, a large curse pokes up, startling Utahime, and even you a little. Utahime jumps on you, who is still holding the rubble piece up. You drop it, eyes wide as you stare at it.

“Yikes.” You whisper, when another curse eats it.

“Hey, Satoru. It’s not nice to pick on the weak!” You hear a familiar voice.

Suguru, under the influence of Satoru.

“How long do you plan on holding on for?” You ask teasingly, feeling the girl shake.

She stares into your eyes before jumping off, her face red as a tomato, teeth clenched while her finger waves at you accusingly.

“I-I- I DIDN’T MEAN THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE.. uh.. My dog! Yea, my dog!”

You raise an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was a bit, comforting..” you tell her, teasing her by showing her your embarrassed face, gaze to your side, flickering around before looking back into her eyes. Your arms hold yourself, and you laugh right as her mouth pops open.

She quickly leaves when she notices Shoko. Hugging the girl tightly,

“Sensei!” Shoko calls out, and you notice something.

It’s as bright as day. The sun shining down on all of you, the clouds on the blue sky.

You gaze up blankly, slightly in a daze.

“What is missing?” You whisper to yourself, your fingers rubbing on your chin.

Then, amongst their conversation, you hear one of them talk about a veil, presumably discussing an outfit, and you internally hear glass shatter.

The three students kneel in front of Yaga.

“Who was in charge of the veil?” He asks, and the two point to the one in the middle.

Satoru.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, groaning.

Again, your phone rings. Satoru stares at you, almost accusingly, but you pay him no mind.

“Yuki,” you start, walking out the room. Satoru looks in a daze watching you leave, and Yaga following suit, punches the boys on the head before he leaves.

“Hey, we can see the hearts in your eyes.” Suguru teases, hitting his shoulder.

“Really!? You can?!” He asks, genuinely curious.

The two stop and stare at him, and Satoru feels stupid.

“I’m obviously kidding.”

“..”

“You can’t send them on that!” You shout at Yaga, so loudly that just they can hear you as clear as day.

The school rumbles under your wrath, a fee students in the classrooms fearful. But the trio in the gym stand uncaring.

“Please, Yaga.”

Yaga looks down at you, sighing before patting your head. “It’s not my decision, kid.”

You right the corners of your eyes, chewing on your bottom lip.

“I know.” You whisper, walking away from him.

When your kids were going on a life threatening mission, you were being sent off by the higher ups, finding your father.

Kenjaku.

It would be hard, considering he changes his body every few years.

You don't understand why Riko Amanai was being in the care of two second years. You’ve already been in contact with her for a couple months, filling her in on things no one else wanted to do.

You could easily take care of this, but higher-ups said Kenjaku was first.

So you bit down your tongue, swallowed the ball forming in your throat, and walked away from the school campus.

I remember Dad, he had that scar over his forehead.

You flipped open your phone, receiving a message from Yuki, which read, Sendai City, and an attached image of a woman, bobbed hair, and that same scar through her forehead holding a toddler.

You hold your breath.

A brother.

Even though the two of you, biologically speaking, had different parents, you couldn't help but notice similarities the two of you had. Same gleam in your eyes, same cheeky smile.

You found yourself chuckling a bit at the photo, and at the boy.

“Okay,” you whisper, your phone back into your pocket with a nod. Hand clenched. “Sendai,” you tell yourself, marching off.

…

You should have come earlier. The Jujutsu Tech, was a nightmare. Blood everywhere, a destroyed entrance, and a failed mission.

They sent you to get rid of Kenjaku, but when you heard of what had happened, you rushed back home.

Your mind running a million times a minute. Toji killed Riko, he hurt your students.

All you could think about were your boys.

“Satoru?! Suguru?!” You shout, running towards the dorm rooms. Just as your about to knock on Satoru’s door, Suguru is beside you. “He’s not in there.”

You almost gasp at his appearance, so different from what your used to. His hair is out, his eyes purple and bloodshot from crying, he’s not in his uniform.

White baggy shirt and some sweatpants you gave him as a first year that had finally come to fit him.

You give him a broken smile.

“C’mere,” you whisper, opening your arms to him. You pat his back, rubbing it in circles, but he doesn’t cry.

He trembles, but he doesn't cry.

“It was my fault, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have left—”

“I’m too weak.” He cuts you off, his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t keep up with him anymore.” He tells you, and your heart almost breaks.

You give him a reassuring squeeze, sighing. “Suguru, in this world, nobody is truly equal.” It's the honest truth, you think. Something you wish someone had told you in your younger days. “I just hope, in this life, you can all find happiness.”

You hold his face in your hands, smiling up at him.

“My kids are growing up so big, so fast. So I'll do this one last time.” You tell him, that last part confusing him, but you notice his eyes gloss over.

One last time.

You make your way to Shoko after taking Suguru back to his bed, who is in the second year classroom, alone.

You lean at the doorway, and she doesn’t notice you. A cigarette sticking from the corner of her mouth as she flips through her medical books. A bag of opened chips sit on the three desks she put together. The room is dim, but familiar.

“There’s my favorite girl,” you greet, finally walking up to her.

She too, seems more tired than usual.

You pat her head, ruffling her hair a bit.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” She asks with a smile, watching you stare at the three desks, letters carved into them. You chuckle, responding without looking.

“I’m here to say goodbye.”

She blinks, then laughing. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you're.. going to die..” realization hits her.

You only smile back, hand on her cheek as you stroke her with your thumb.

“Lay off on the cigarettes,” you begin, and she takes her head out of your grasp, shaking her head profusely.

“No..”

“Make sure to make your bed in the morning, brush your teeth, wash your face,”

“Stop.” She says, chewing on the cigarette.

“Oh and make sure those morons take care of themselves as well.

“Sensei!”

You stare at her, and she looks in your eyes.

You find your eyes watering. This has never happened before. You don’t recall a single memory of you crying. But, here you are. In front of one of your old students, crying.

“Ah, this is so strange.” You mutter, wiping your eyes, and Shoko stares at you, her own face growing red, eyes filled with emotion.

“Take care, Sensei.” She tells you, hugging you hard.”

You snort, squeezing her back. “You too, I love you all very much.”

You leave her back to her studying. Your first years, took it easier. They’re too gullible, to innocent, you can’t tell them.

You wave them goodbye, and lastly was Satoru.

But he wasn’t there.

He was, somewhere.

Not where she needed him.

She laughed at herself, shaking her head as she made her way back to Sendai.

Her last phone call was made to Yuki, “Hey,” you start. And she’s silent. You hear sniffles from her end of the phone, and you can’t help but tease her. “If you start crying now I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“I love you.” You tell her, and she’s crying on the line, unable to say anything. You end the call, the last one to make, Satoru. Of course, he doesn’t answer, so you talk for the voicemail.

“Satoru, my boy. My pride and joy, you weren’t at school so I couldn’t talk to you face to face. And I have a lot that I want to say, but I'm running on limited time.”

You swallow, walking down the street, and hand in your pocket, other holding your flip phone to your ear.

“Don’t blame yourself, number one. I don’t wanna hear, I should have been there, or blah blah blah. Only I’m allowed to do that. Anyways, I'm sure at this point, you’re stronger than me. Way stronger than me. But, not the strongest. I’m the strongest. Does that make sense? I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I just wanted to tell you, it’s been a pleasure knowing you, and I'm sorry I won’t be able to see you become the man you’ve dreamt of being. I love you, Satoru, and take care of yourself and the other—”

Your time with the caller is over, your voicemail has been sent.

“Ah damn.” You mutter, standing in front of a warehouse.

Cursed energy if radiating from the center, so you bring your fingers up. Your pink and ring fingers interlock, your middle fingers curl, fitting side by side, and your pointer fingers are straight up, the tips touching each other, your thumbs too.

“Domain expansion: Bloody Mirror.”

Satoru hears glass breaking while on his way back to the school, his hands are in his pockets, and he’s care free, thinking about bothering his Sensei—

Screams is all he hears. Sobs, and Yaga, his head down and shaking, holding what seemed to me a bloodied armband.

Heh, funny. It looks like the same one that (Y/N) used.

Utahime stands in front of Yaga, head in her hands and shaking her head. This was just a dream, she kept telling herself, but her sobs wouldn’t stop.

“Satoru.” A voice called out, it was Yaga. Even from far away, his voice was just so clear.

His steps grew heavier, like weights were on his ankles. His posture even began slouching, with his heart racing.

“Hey Yaga! Say, where’s (Y/N)- Sensei? She’s always out and about—”

“She’s dead.”

“And she never comes home..” he says, whispering the words home. He doesn’t even realize his eyes go wide, of that the only sound he can hear is his beating heart. It scared him. Really badly, it scared him. His feet carried him to Shoko’s ‘Lab’, though it was really a morgue.

He didn’t expect to find Suguru, who was usually holed away in his room since the incident, sitting on the chair looking down. His hands clenched, he didn’t want to get up.

Shoko’s eyes were red, puffy, tired.

A cloth over the body, and his feet took him to it.

He saw someone, with the same hair color as you under there, and it had felt like he had died again.

He began peeling the cloth away, but that’s when Shoko stopped him, right below your eyes, that's where she stopped him.

What he didn’t get to see, what only Shoko saw, was the largest, hole in a person’s face she had ever scene in her small, but broad highschool years as a healer.

Not only was your mouth missing, but your arm was completely ripped off, and if she had to describe how it had been torn, it would have looked like string cheese, as though someone had torn it off in such a way, as to torture you.

Another hole through your chest, your intestines no longer existed and your spinal cord severed, but, through and through, they were told you still won.

Only dropping down when a sorcerer came, giving them a smile before plopping down.

“Let me see her.” Satoru tells her, but his grip is weak, his hands tremble.

“Let me heal her first—”

“Let me see her first! I want to see.. I want to see how she won.” He says, his voice going from a loud shout to a soft whisper.

Shoko lets go, turning away because she doesn’t want to have to bear the sight of the scene once more.

Satoru drops it, wanting to scream but nothing will come out, wanting to cry, but his eyes are just so dry.

He wants to say something, but his voice is gone.

He’s gone.

He stares down blankly at the corpse, The Strongest is dead.

The next one will take over, the cycle never ending.

He doesn't even realize that his breathing grows labored, his eyes, for the first time in his life, are unable to see.

His six eyes, the jewels of his clan, prevent him from seeing.

He can’t feel anything, he can’t move, but he finds himself in the middle of your apartment. Pictures of him and you and Shoko and Suguru, and Yaga—

Everybody.

With that dingy camera, you snapped hundreds of photos. He knew where you would hide the camera, so when he skimmed through it, he found himself falling apart. Pictured from days he doesn't even remember, his childhood all in this stupid old camera.

So stupid.

But he can’t contain himself. He can’t control his heart, the way his forehead hits the wood floors as he begs God, He who blessed the young Gojo, for her back. He would give anything for her back. His heart was with her, it would never come back.

The more he clicked through them the more he would ache. Looking at the photos with a trembling hand, he comes across one where the four of them are smushed in the back seat of a car. All of them sleeping, with someone else, presumably the driver that you threatened begged to take a photo for you. You were winking, finger to your lips like you were shushing.

Shoko was on top of your lap, Suguru and Satoru on either side, leaning on your shoulders.

He chuckled, and the more we went, the more silly photos he came across. He found himself wiping his tears away, replacing them with his laughter.

Shoved away in his pocket was your armband, which he now used as his blindfold, and in the other.

A dingy old camera to take photos, and make memories with his students.

But, sometimes, he’ll go back to the original camera, that hides away in the same drawer, looking at the past and reliving those memories.

He wonders how Megumi feels every time he looks at the numerous photos of you that are scattered in the house. The carvings of Gojo’s height, made by you as he grew. The two strongest, living in one house, at the same time. So, he looks Megumi, possibly as a projection of himself, but he has Tsumiki. He also finds it funny, when Itadori is with him, baring the same smoke you once had.

Wanting to laugh, it seems that the Strongest are always taking in the enemy's kid. It’s like a bong between them all.

From one strongest to another.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo angst #gojou satoru x reader #teen gojo x reader #teacher reader #gojo saturo #Gojo #gojo in love #Reader is older #geto x reader #gojo x you

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plasticfangtastic · 2 months

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A Garden Without Impurity

A Homelander x GN Reader fic one-shot

A/N: Should be working on my other fics but i needed to get this out me system, inspired by a conversation I had in this site and watching the apothecary diaries, not an expert on chinese harem systems but i based this sort of on the Qin Dynasty system bcuz it was like the simpliest, like those emperors got around a lot… this is more drabble than fic-fic but i hope y’all enjoy.

Tags: light smut, 3-some, bilander, dark topics, not proofread I die here, non-canon complaint/canon-divergent, takes place in who knows, traditional polygamy, no dialogue here btw, Homelander being himself, light gore.

Word Count: 5K

Synopsis: You’re a member of Homelander harem, this is but a documentation of that.

Homelander was always a lonely man perpetually hunting after love, for anybody who could give him attention, who would want him. He clung easily to lovers, too young at first to notice how easily he could be tricked into becoming nothing but a trophy fuck, too inmature to notice how his behaviour frightened them in the long run, and the more and more he was hurt the worse he became, all he’d learned was how to hide his anguish– turning him dangerously bitter.

Lovers came easy but just as easily they left– either scared straight by an army of lawyers, handsomely compensated or increasingly more often in pine boxes… crisis management meetings became so commonplace they began to be run on emails.

He was a man desperate for love– so much love to give but nobody could ever give him an ounce of what he needed, an ounce of what he gave, he was hungry for intimate devotion and adoration, the public could only give him bites sizes but it was fading and quick, and his mind steadily warping from this unfulfilled primal need.

Lovers couldn’t handle how pushy he became, how possessive and controlling he could become, how he wished to monopolize everything– so it was a problem, his sickly nature only wisthand by those contractually obligated to tolerate him, Maeve who had been so perfect until the downstairs neighbors logged less and less noise complaints as their passion cool and soured and Madelyn whose allure came in how untouchable she was, how forbidden she was, how much of a special occasion she had to be, and well rumors circulated involving Mr. Edgar but nobody ever dared to discuss it much.

Porn seem to alleviate some issues but the poor team in-charge of monitoring his online usage had filed formal complaint about having to be subjected to so much ‘stepmom porn’ and increasingly bizarre fetishes, whether he watched them to get off or not was unknown but once he switched the porn to browsing r/watchpeopledie– a meeting had to be made and this time it was in person.

It was hard to pin-point the exact moment a suit suggested this solution– it was merely a joke but no matter how thick these walls were it would never be missed by Homelander, who indulge them.

And the project began to take place, with the end goal to provide him with company, and a controlled environment for Vought overseeing… a facility where the damage would be limited to seven floors and 30 large and luxurious condos.

Legally this building was just one of the many owned by Vought– like many other megacorps it was no surprise Vought dab in real estate, owning a couple buildings around the city to provide employee accommodation much like their Silicon Valley competition. After selecting the small building that once simply served as their own service apartments to accommodate shareholders, the project began to take place.

Homelander found it amusing, interested as to what things were going… surprised about how much he was looking forward to this, much to his chagrin– Homelander was very much a man and at the thought of being supplied with sex on tap he was quite happy to play along giving it a fair-go for a few weeks then forget about it after the novelty faded.

The first iteration was an utter failure, simply nothing but a duped “Playboy” Mansion, women who were paid to seduce him and become available whenever he desired– they were boring, they weren’t there for him, they were there for the paycheck and presents, for the free rent and the possibility of becoming his favorite perhaps.

It was dull.

Painfully dull, nothing different from what he was doing, only it was kept behind closely guarded doors and managed by the company that micromanaged everything else in his life.

Dull Lovers who barely pretended to care, who rolled their eyes when he wanted to talk about his interest, who looked at their phones during the good scenes of his favorite films, who signed when he wished to be held, who gave no enthusiastic response at anything but Versace and Jimmy Choo’s.

He felt the ever growing emptiness spread further like a cancerous mass.

As he sat alone sinking on his couch flipping channels in the dark and his eyes finally grew heavy for the night– his fingers stopped in some show about a man trying to balance having four wives, the scenario intrigued him… a man married to several women who seemed enamored with him despite all the drama in the background… These women on his screen weren’t like the ones provided… they weren’t his… They didn’t love him nor wanted to devote themselves to him, they were just high paid prostitutes– even the women at the Playboy Mansion he had met seemed to have a better relationship to the old creep than his own had to him– he wasn’t special or interesting to them.

It was transactional and the affection unconvincing, unlike this man’s wives who seemed to care about him, who didn’t look forward to meeting other men or keep in touch with old John’s and sold their feet pics online to just any guy.

Vought or the public would never allow him to have a dozen wives, he wasn’t even a Mormon, officially he was an Evangelical just in name not in practice so he couldn’t simply adopt the church's views nor was he interested in even more rigid rules… I mean he did enjoy a cup of coffee every once in a blue moon and he certainly had a spicy tongue.

It took a lot of trial and error and plenty of lawyers too.

But a single joke turned into this…

You had been there for quite a long time, you seen plenty of pretty faces come and go, most left because they disliked the system in place– had they simply bothered to glance the wikipedia article on Chinese harem practices before signing the dotted line their grievances would have been lessened… altho calling yourself a polygamist might not even been an applicable label– after all his rules made it difficult to do so.

You had simply been a low-level intern when Homelander first laid eyes on you all those years ago.

He watched you for a long time and you watched him with the same intensity, he was a pretty thing, he had a quirky laugh that veer into cackle territory, his hands were as soft as the rest of him and above all you could tell pretty early on that there was a hunger inside him unmatched by anything else.

No lover before had ever made you feel so wanted, he made you feel as if he was born for you, no lover ever devoured you with a single look… it was desperate.

When have you ever felt this desire before? You asked yourself the more intense this became.

You never experience the titillation and the fear that his hunger inspired in you, the way he touched and explored every inch of your skin inside that broom closet made you fear for your life, as if he would feast on you and gnaw at your bones like a dog with a fresh treat, that one spicy rendezvous after office hours quickly became a regular occurrence and he never had enough.

Neither did you.

His gentleness hid praise worthy self-control, he molded his performance after what made you feel best but you would soon learn it was performance– you were puddy in his hands as he trapped you with this pleasure.

To be yearned for was different, he wanted all your free time to be for him, to ignore all the pretty faces and nameless ass that crossed your sight and devote yourself to him, he was honest about wanting you, about wanting you to love him just as much as he could love you.

Made worse by the fact that you had no qualms with the worst of his personality your fights and arguments as unhealthy as anybody else but always over petty things, never about the nights he soaked the carpet with some miscreant chunky remains, after all you had to be a bit loopy and unhinge to look at him as if he was the only source of light in the cave that was your life.

It was a long courtship before he told you about ‘The Gardens’. At first you simply thought it was another luxury building stuck in Manhattan but behind the doorman and reception clerk was a building only inhabited by lovers.

It wasn’t easy to digest– but floor to ceiling windows, private drivers and Hermes boxes demonstrate to your ego that you might have a price… The 6 figure allowance certainly made your stomach drop as you accepted new found facts about yourself… this was not counting any extra presents– after all your job would be to stay pretty and interesting for him.

You certainly had your suspicions but you had been quite enamored with the Supe, unable to look away from those cornflower blues and the sad expression painting his face as he began to suspect your rejection, the palpable anguish he was trying so hard to contain. Accepting simply to do a few excessive sessions of retail therapy on his dime to recover from the shock, coming in thinking he will grow bored of you soon enough and you could commence the healing process afterwards.

But you never left ‘The Gardens’, the people who ran the building would refer to you as the Noble Consort with the Empress or Imperial Noble Consort reserved for whoever Homelander was dating for the papers (altho you would have given the title of Stillwell for the longest time), to your disbelief you found enjoyment in this arrangement, your were free to pursue whatever you wanted for money was now not a problem– all those hobbies you had abandoned, halted and wished to explore were now back on the table, a new career change or education now a possibility, even pursuing a lifelong passion or dream was available, as long as you kept pretty and keep his favor.

There were other rules of course… Nobody besides Homelander could be in your life. Sex-work was out of the question once somebody took residency in one of the handful of luxury condos. Not involving oneself romantically with any of the other concubines or anybody was also a major rule. He demanded a vow of secrecy as well obviously– telling anybody about the arrangement specially online or the media, and you would have a head on your front door… you would have prefered a finger, a tooth or a kidney like the others on your floor but he left the brainless severed head on yours.

You were certain that Vought kept a dystopian level of watch over your digital footprint while you no longer worked with Vought and did your thing… you heard the rumor of a shadow department whose whole job was to watch this place– it wasn’t really out of the realm of possibility after all Homelander was worth billions to them… and if not Homelander was there watching somehow.

Which is how you end up with having to call somebody to pick up and puzzle the old concubine back together.

He was The Emperor and thus you had to act like a noble, anybody caught breaking his rules would be in more than a little trouble– Homelander was quite cruel once a lover lost his fancy.

But not as cruel as the other residents when they sensed somebody trying to plant the seeds of discourse, threats to the system were ever present whenever he brought a new concubine, those who survived the longer kept the peace.

A mixture of jealousy and self-preservation feed the cruelty… after all these years you liked your comfortable life and so did the others– those with more expensive taste to your own, those whose families were partially supported by Homelander (if he was aware or not was not yours or his problem) those who loved him and didn’t wish to part, and those who needed his support to make sure even if he grew bored with them they had a back-up to their back-up, none who would risk losing it all just because some new lover wanted him all for himself– they had no grace about it and would soon realize that tribalistic nature of humans… unless somebody whispered sweetly in John’s ear and prevented the carnage.

Unsure as to why anybody would want to monopolize him as if this entire building wasn’t a red flag about how pointless that was, you discussed with the others.

He was more than an armful, he was too much even for you who obsessed so easily with him, who demanded his attention and affection but ultimately unable to match just how much he needed in return, you stopped disliking this new life because Homelander would never be satiated, because he would wear you down to a stub, because he would scare you away if you didn’t find a way to get breathing room, more for his sake than your own. You loved him, you wanted to hold tight but if he kept going you would let go of his hand mid-flight and the thought of hating him or falling out of love with him filled you with dread.

You needed him on a cellular level, you joked in the past as you talked to a neighbor, who understood you as he laughed.

It stung for a long time to live this way– You just made it look easy.

But you made it, and it earned you some perks.

You checked your agenda to make sure that time had come around, you weren’t called the Noble Consort for nothing– he would reserve you even outside your birthday week.

8.3 million people in this city and he could make sure you felt like the only one in this town.

Perpetually charming you thought as he landed inthe balcony with your favorite chocolate and flowers.

If Homelander had to explain why he kept you the longest it was how you talked to him earnestly, you treated him as if he was not just a celeb but a husband, how happy you always were too see him, how you always clung to his shoulders even before his boots touched the ground and how quickly you always dragged him inside worried he would get sick from the cold winds, even if he went weeks without seeing you in person you never let him see it, it was as if no matter how long it had pass you couldn’t care less, only the now you experienced together mattered.

He wondered if this was how sailors felt when they came back home after a lengthy tour, if it was warm like this.

No matter how long this had been going on for– your love was genuine, he even thought of you as a weekend masochist for putting up with his whims, but you took him as he was and that was something special… something worth keeping… worth protecting.

He could snuggle in your chest all he wanted, he knew your fingers would scratch his scalp without command, he would find your warmth either gifted by your words or your core.

A perfect spouse to him, he would whisper to himself when you slept or when he missed you, in this intimacy he knew he would stay with you, the only one who understood what this place was all about, who was this emperor’s favorite.

Now when it came to sex–the life of his concubine wasn’t sexless… you doubted the man actually lived in his actual penthouse all the way up in Vought Tower, he might use it to change suits or pick up his mail, for he would share somebody else’s bed every night, if he didn’t you would find out at the lobby, perks of knowing everybody in the building was that rumors traveled quickly and plans of actions would be organized in elevators… so your bed was not infrequent and during your weeks he would always sleep there.

You keep a spare pair of his boots and gloves that didn’t came with the apartment, which said a lot about how infrequently did he slept at his legal address and your longevity in this palace– what did came was a toothbrush, comb, some of his skincare products and extra-creamy milk restocked frequently more so these days.

These private weeks were both sugary and bitter, date nights and cuddling lazily on the couch as he spoke of his day and listened to yours, you spoke a lot catching up with lost time while he washed your back and you washed his hair, knowing he would leave soon enough and return to some girl back in the tower or go downstairs.

And as your week ended he would treat you to something adventurous.

You kissed him in the upper courtyard by the warm dim lights surrounded by whistling shrubs, the night was starting to grow cold, draping his cape around you for your comfort, he moaned as your lips suckled on his neck savoring the feel of your tongue as you drew lines on chin, slowly melting on your sweltering heat, your hand taking his thigh with a firm squeeze teasing him as they came close to his member, kissing until lips bruised and blood inked his tongue, you kissed until his jaw started to numb and his cock leaked with anticipation, being uphere where somebody might see always excited him, he had already baptized every bench in this courtyard but it didn’t lose his splendor just yet.

His hips buckle as your hand finally gave him much needed affection, hearing your muscles push as hard as they could against him, mewling as you chuckled with delight at his reactions, his eyes so hazy.

Trembling as your hand left him, you pulled at his belt watching him blush as he remembered that the one thing you lacked was super strength, you leaned back as he swiftly began to lower his tights, throwing his belt to the ground so the cold steel wouldn’t make you shudder.

His cock was hard, crying rivers into the cold wind until your lips kissed it better.

He made no attempt to conceal his moaning, growling as your teeth grazed the sensitive head, he was unapologetically loud, this was the one place where he forgo all his acting lessons, nor did you want him to be quiet it made you excited to hear him moan, he just sounded so needy– cute too… and tonite he was obscenely loud, animalistic even, grunting and growling as your drooled unto your chin and made his thigh slippery, as you took his cock down to the base, licking down his taint, he lifted his legs adjusting his position to follow your tongue, whining and panting as you pleasured him, aggressively pumping at his cock as you suck gently on his balls.

You look up from half-lid eyes drowning on your own pleasure, he came with ease coating your throat with his thick salty cum but just as quickly as he came he would come back up and just as hard as a minute ago– you made it into a game to see how many times you could make him cum before he begged you to let him do it inside you for that was the only way to kill his battery. Pumping his shaft with short and quick pump focusing on the mid-length as to deprive his crying tip taking sadistic delight in knowing that he wanted you to touch the tip immediately but being too far gone to asks for it clearly as he mumbled incoherently behind his breathy wanton, his hips following the rhythm of your hands and tongue.

A shaky smile crossed his lips as the consort took pity on him, you chuckled knowing you won an unspoken bet with your downstairs neighbor, pulling their hair out of the way as their head went up and down and lips grazed your fingers.

You climbed up letting your fellow concubine enjoy themselves in this debauchery.

Biting on his ears as you whispered what you wished to do with him, calling him by his name with a sweetness that tingled something scary inside him.

Homelander laughed weakly against you, his hand pulling on the other’s hair gently, he spouts his orders, throwing the cushions unto the ground you both give each other giddy looks as the man pulls you down with him with the last bit of composure he had before burying his face with your crotch, one hand kept your hips in place and the other held his other concubine hand, gasping against you as the other took him, you saw red– it was not a competition but you did not want him to only focus on the warm enveloping his cock.

All that filled the air were your choir of moans above his muffled coos and whines as you fucked his mouth, his tongue doing his best to keep up, eyes rolling back as you took fistfuls of his hair pulling harshly distracting him so much that he had begun to run of breath, as he ate everything and swallowed desperately, trying to concentrate on the feeling developing his tongue and lips and the sweet musky scent drowing him, fading with a twsited smile as you fucked him earnestly and harshly, he loved it when he was made into a bitch, he would never say it outloud of course– like many things in this building it went unspoken, but you could tell that all the old residents shared a certain quality to them.

Men and women who provided something everybody was afraid of giving to him before.

You’d seen him cling to men and women who wished to mark him, who told him that he was as much their property as they were his.

That proved their love was not superficial… It was genuine.

Or genuine enough for him.

He moaned and bucked his hips pathetically, yearning to reach the furthest parts of you, filling you, to feel his own cum foaming within you as he fucked you.

Moving you quickly, glad that this time he had thought ahead with these cushions for your knees would be bleeding and burning otherwise– it was all hazy at this point, all you knew was his name, the cold wind hardening your nipples, and the sound of his hips slapping into you as he whimpered with a mixture of desperation and pleasure, he finger fucked your companion, hands fucking his lover just as fast and hard to have the concubine running out of breath begging Homelander to not dare stop, making a mess of themselves on his fingers, coating them as their hole squelched and sucked him right back in, as the man grew pleased with the sight, your hands interlocked squeezing hard as they rode their orgasm to a happy end.

You caught a ruby glimpse reflecting in a metal bench nearby, you gulped knowing you had to think quickly.

Turning your face and arching your back as you begged him to hold you.

Coming loudly letting your knees and elbows give up, letting him push you down with his weight, always surprised how heavy those silly golden eagles are, you couldn’t believe his shoulders weren’t stiff 24/7, with a satisfied chuckle he waits for you both to snuggle with him.

The other urges him to take it into their apartment for it was getting cold and they sure didn’t want to catch a cold.

He half-begrudgingly agreed, wishing deep down to go a few more rounds outside but as he felt your goosebumps he took you both inside urgently.

Your hands never touched after that, Homelander ever so vigilant of both your movements, all you could do was hope the concubine would learn just how stringent and absurd John could be, fearful that anybody would dare hold affections to anybody but him.

You kissed his neck, nuzzling against him as he watched the sleeping concubine coldly, arguing with himself if they had meant to break the rules.

Whispering his name as he squeezed your stomach, soothing his unspoken anxiety he let go of those thoughts.

He returned your affections, easing into him as you fed off his warmth.

You whispered quietly, enjoying each other, easing his worries.

This was a peculiar life but in these quiet moments it was like any other.

In these moments it all felt perfectly normal, the world might never get it entirely and you yourself struggled with it at times but when you woke up to his kisses on your chest as he found a way to turn into the little spoon while the other sneaked to the toilet, you certainly didn’t want to change things.

Not one bit.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #homelander fanfiction #personal #my fic tag #homelander x you #tempted to write a little series on these but if anybody wants to write about concubines feel free #on my behalf #might come back and re-edit this

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misshoneyimhome · 7 months

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Okay I need a lil bit of holiday angst followed by fluff, I’m thinking he’s on the phone with Alex and they’re prepping for the Nylander clan to arrive in Toronto for Christmas! Now you’ve met the family and adore them but you’ve never spent a holiday together and you’re excited as you think this is a huge step in your relationship! So you arrive back home from gift shopping and he’s on the phone and you’re about to pop in to say hello but you overhear him saying how he feels a little apprehensive and doesn’t know how he feels about you joining in on their holiday, big ouch you feel as though you’re rushing into the family and feel badly about planning this whole business, now if you stayed to listen longer you’d know it’s because he knows how much you live your family and he feels bad for keeping you from them for the first time at Christmas and he’s anxious because he wants to make it a perfect first Christmas together as it won’t be the last…but boy has some explaining to do when he finds you crying in your shared bedroom amongst his family’s presents😭

Oh yes! Nothing says Christmas more than a little holiday misunderstanding 😅 bb, I hope this comes somewhere close to your idea, and that you’ll enjoy a little bit of soft!Willy as he tries to comfort his girlfriend ❤️

Words count: 2.3+

・✶ ｡ﾟ

My Only Wish

"Okay, I think that's the final one," you quietly murmured to yourself while checking your list twice. And then with a contented grin, you set off for home after a successful Christmas shopping spree.

Meanwhile you’d been out hunting for gifts, your boyfriend William Nylander was busy getting things ready for his family's visit.

This Christmas marked your first year celebrating it together, and although it felt like a significant step in your relationship, it just felt right. You and William had been dating for almost two years, and an official couple for almost just as long, so spending the holidays together seemed like a natural decision.

Initially, you were a bit unsure about skipping your usual family Christmas, but with work commitments looming with important meetings on the 22nd and William's home hockey match on the 23rd it made more practical sense to stay put in Toronto. Besides, William had extended an invitation to almost his entire family to join in the celebrations.

Or perhaps, it could have been his sisters' insistence to have everyone together that pushed the plan forward. Nonetheless, they were all set to arrive on the 22nd, catch the Leafs playing against the Blue Jackets on the 23rd, and then Alex would fly in from Pittsburgh, giving you all ample time from the 24th to the 27th to enjoy the Nylander family's company. And this year, you were to be a part of it all.

You were absolutely thrilled. Christmas was your favourite time of the year, and there was nothing you wanted more than to spend those days with your beloved boyfriend. You'd found him the perfect present, or maybe even presents, and you'd also sorted gifts for all his family members.

Despite William's insistence that you shouldn't spend all your time and money on gifts for his family, you couldn't help yourself nor contain your excitement. You were simply too eager and joyous about the upcoming celebrations.

You adored his family, and it seemed they felt the same way about you.

William surprised you by introducing you to them rather swiftly, which was unexpected as he wasn't usually the type to share his personal life so soon. But he was simply immensely proud to have you as his girlfriend, and he just hadn’t been able to resist mentioning you to them. So soon after, he pulled you into a family video call for a virtual introduction. Then, during the following off-season, you spent almost two months in Sweden with all his family and friends.

Returning to the condo, you struggled to unlock the front door while juggling numerous bags and holding your phone in your mouth, but eventually managed to push it open.

"Hey babe," you greeted softly upon entering, but there was no response from William.

Thinking he might be in the bathroom, you carefully set the bags down before removing your coat and shoes. But just as you were about to call out once more, William's voice echoed from the living room.

"I don't know, Alex," you heard William's voice sounding rather intense, almost irritated, you thought. "I mean, I love y/n, but I’m just not so sure about her spending Christmas here with us."

The sudden mention of your name caused you to freeze in place.

Moreover, you were baffled by his words. Why would he suddenly express uncertainty to his brother about you staying for Christmas? You'd discussed it several times, and each time, William had appeared genuinely thrilled about the idea. It was even his own suggestion when you’d mentioned the stress of travelling during the holidays.

His words cut deep, leaving a painful sting in your heart.

"I know, it's just... she's been putting in so much effort, and she seems genuinely excited about the whole thing..." William's voice resonated through the condo. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you merely found yourself unable to move. William was talking to Alex about you, and it didn't sound like a positive conversation.

"No, she's out Christmas shopping right now... I just don't know how to say anything..." William's tone was gentle yet slightly husky, and his voice began to quiver as he talked about you spending the holiday with him.

Listening to one side of the conversation, you felt your heart shatter. Naturally, you couldn't hear Alex's response.

True, you had put in a tremendous amount of effort. You wanted your home to radiate the holiday spirit, maybe going a bit overboard with decorations, perhaps choosing a rather large Christmas tree, and even deciding to prepare every variety of Christmas dishes, blending traditional Swedish courses with Canadian ones.

However, you had believed this was what you both wanted. Although William wasn't adept at planning such gatherings, you interpreted his expressions as pure excitement, reflecting the joy you felt in organising the entire event.

But clearly, you were mistaken.

Perhaps it had overwhelmed him. Maybe this step in your relationship was too significant, and now he was having second thoughts.

"I just feel bad... maybe we shouldn't have agreed to do this..."

Slow tears traced down your cheeks as a whirlwind of thoughts raced through your mind, leading you to regret this entire situation. Your breaths became uneven, your chest felt burdened, and pain pierced through your body, gripping your heart with a deep ache.

This couldn't be happening, you thought.

Closing your eyes, you allowed the tears to flow freely, and gently grasping all the bags again, you quietly attempted to make your way to the bedroom, seeking solace and tranquillity. Peeking into the room, you spotted William, his head bowed, facing the large window of the condo, and seeing it as an opportunity, you tried to sneak past him and into the bedroom.

And as soon as you entered, your body collapsed at the foot of the bed, throwing the bags with you. Nestling your knees against your chest, your back leaned against the bed frame, and you released your sobs.

You felt hurt. Hurt that William didn't share the same enthusiasm about spending the holiday together and hurt that he felt unable to tell you how he truly felt.

"I just feel guilty about keeping her away from her own family, Alex," William confessed to his brother, expressing his concerns about the upcoming days.

"Come on, Willy, if y/n didn't want to spend Christmas with all of us, she wouldn't have gone to such lengths to plan it," Alex chuckled lightly over the phone, prompting a gentle sigh from William.

"I guess you're right. She's seemed so excited about it, which makes me happy. I just hope she won't be disappointed. It's her first Christmas with us, and... God, I just hope she'll like it."

Thinking about having you there during this time of year brought a sense of joy to William. You meant everything to him, and experiencing these emotions with you excited him more than anything else.

He knew how much you cherished this holiday. And he had to admit that all the joy and romance of Christmas had a profound effect on him too, despite being a 27-year-old boy who sometimes felt immature and challenged with admitting to his own deep feelings. Yet, deep emotions coursed through him, seeing your eyes sparkle with excitement when you spoke about spending Christmas together and how much you adored his family.

Your unwavering commitment to him and to making the holiday special touched him deeply. And it only had him believe that you were indeed meant for him.

"Willy, chill out, she's going to love it! Besides, she's already spent enough time with all of us, so she won't get scared away," Alex's chuckles echoed in William's ear, prompting laughter from William as well.

"True that," he replied before their conversation gradually faded, and they eventually hung up.

William released a gentle sigh, feeling relieved after his chat with his brother, as it had helped ease his earlier concerns about your decision to stay back in Toronto with him and his family.

But then looking at the time, he found it odd that you hadn't returned yet. You'd been out for hours, and while he understood that shopping could take time, he also knew you had had a plan, so it shouldn't have taken so long.

Attempting to call you only led to voicemail, which started to raise some concern, as he then began pacing around the condo. He should have heard you come in, but as he noticed your shoes and coat by the front door, he slowly realised that perhaps he hadn't heard you due to his phone call.

Contemplating where you might have gone, William made his way to your bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Babe, are you in there?"

Startled by William's voice, your heart sank deeper, and you find yourself struggling to speak.

"Yes... um, but please, don't come in here," you managed to say, trying to hide the tremble in your voice.

"Why? What are you doing?"

Your mind felt foggy from crying, and you hurriedly made up an excuse, not wanting William to see you in this state.

"I, um... I'm wrapping your present," you forced out, attempting to conceal the cracks in your voice.

But sensing that something wasn't right, William felt a twitch of concern. It wasn't like you to come home without saying anything to him, even if he was on the phone. Normally, you'd give him a silent kiss before heading off if he was in a call.

But as you’d simply slipped away into the bedroom, he knew something was off.

"Come on, baby, what's wrong?" he asked, his tone tinged with worry.

You attempted to deflect again, trying to get him to leave, but William wasn't easily convinced.

"Nothing's wrong, Willy... I'm just—"

"You're not wrapping my present; you did that just last week," he stated firmly before pushing the door open.

William's heart shattered into pieces as his eyes fell upon you. You were sitting on the floor, surrounded by the day's haul of presents, your eyes red and puffy, clearly showing signs of crying.

"Shit, babe, what's wrong?" William hurriedly sat down next to you, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Has something happened? Are you okay?"

The sight of you crying almost shook William. He hated seeing you like this, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had caused it.

"It's nothing..." you almost whispered, avoiding his gaze as you felt too vulnerable to face him.

"No, it's not nothing... you're crying, and I want to know why."

Your entire body trembled as you struggled to articulate how you felt. You had overheard his conversation and knew he didn't want you to stay for Christmas. But finding the words felt incredibly challenging.

"Hey," William spoke softly, his finger gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "Talk to me..."

It was as if your mouth wanted to slowly form the words your mind had been processing, yet your voice hesitated.

"I..." you softly began, more tears streaming down your cheeks. "I know, Willy... I know you don't want me here for Christmas." Your voice was low and quivering.

"What?" William was taken aback. "What makes you think that?"

"I heard what you said to Alex... that you weren't sure about having me here for the holiday... and that you felt bad because I've gone overboard, and now you didn't know how to tell me that you didn't want to spend Christmas together..." You repeated softly, recalling the conversation between the brothers.

"y/n, that's not... that's not what I meant," William sighed deeply.

"It's okay, Willy, I get it," you continued gently, trying to muster a soft smile. "Maybe it is too big a step in our relationship, and that's alright... I just wish you'd told me sooner, so I wouldn't have gone through all of this and made you feel bad about it."

By now you had surrendered to the tears, letting them flow freely.

"Baby! I want to spend Christmas with you," William spoke more assertively, now understanding the root of the misunderstanding. It pained him to think that you believed he didn't want this, especially when he was overly excited about having you there. In fact, he had been considering it since last Christmas, but he was unsure if you'd be okay with it until you had both discussed it.

Letting out a deep sigh, he felt the need to explain.

"You only heard part of our conversation, y/n/n. I said those things because I feel like I'm keeping you from your family. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you around and spend these days with you and my family."

Your eyes darted from side to side, searching his for any hint of insincerity but found none.

"Really?" you simply asked.

A wave of relief washed over you as he clarified the true essence of the conversation. Moreover, you felt a pang of guilt for drawing to conclusion based on just a part of the entire discussion.

William couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

"Of course, babe, my only wish this year is to be with you, and I just want you to be happy about it as well," William said, taking your hand and gently intertwining his fingers with yours. "I just feel guilty that you won't be spending the days at home."

"I am happy about it, Willy. I don't want to be anywhere else but here, with you and your family. Please believe that," you reassured your boyfriend. "You've got nothing to feel guilty about."

"Good," he flashed a gentle smile and planted a kiss on your forehead. "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you softly spoke, leaning into his touch, before the two of you shared a tender kiss.

#my asks #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl hockey imagine #wn88 imagine

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realtyhubph-blog · 5 months

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Foreclosed 4 BR House in Herencia San Fernando

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mariewaltonrealtor · 2 years

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For Lease - Knox-Henderson Area of Dallas

For Lease – Knox-Henderson Area of Dallas

4225 MckKinney, #14 [ 2 bedroom, 2 1/2 baths with 2 car tandam garage Call Marie at 972-816-5197 or your agent for showings.

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rrahuntersblog · 7 days

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do you ever think just for a little bit, that you might be wrong?

having so many angry people come and tell you that you're wrong, doesn't that make you doubt yourself?

if you were a little bit more humble and a little less entitled, you would consider that you are human too, therefore you're just as prone to making mistakes as anyone else.

maybe you should research better your sources, some of the people you've been talking to have said before that they just like to rile people up, they've admited to making up stuff just for fun.

you also have a dignosed sociopath among your sources, which means they cannot understand emotions.

there's also a troll in disguise, who brags about making people like you believe anything, and then laughs their ass of when you people start making theories based on their bs.

seriously, is it that crazy to believe that Jensen really loves the woman he married?

Hello anon.

You asked a lot here, and I first want to thank you for actually being respectful and polite about it. I don't think I'm being attacked for sharing speculation so much as these particular fans took offense that I'm pointing out that Jensen is, well, an imperfect human. And they didn't have to read my posts--that's just it. Why does it matter if a lone, small-time blogger, is saying something opposite of what they think and feel? I'm not hunting them down, am I? No. I stick to my little corner here.

Okay. Now that's out of the way... let's address what you said.

do you ever think just for a little bit, that you might be wrong?

All the time. It's called being an imperfect human. Not just about Jensen, about everything. Hell, in one screenplay I've been writing on and off (based in the late 1800s) I actually consult my historian daughter-in-law. I'm not joking either.

having so many angry people come and tell you that you're wrong, doesn't that make you doubt yourself?

A dozen--and this is me being generous because their identity is protected through the anonymous feature--of people being pissed at me is not "many" and no... it wouldn't.

Now, if they had concrete proof of anything that I said was wrong, I would actually retract what I said. When it was already pointed out to me that I got an Austin property and the Colorado condo incorrect, I apologized right in the open! When I get a piece of fact wrong, I do apologize. Even if it killed me.

So far, I haven't really seen anything concrete that says I'm wrong. And no, sadly, "Jensen said so!" is not enough. Not when a lot of what he's said is contradictory or an outright lie. (Example: Prequelgate.)

if you were a little bit more humble and a little less entitled, you would consider that you are human too, therefore you're just as prone to making mistakes as anyone else.

Please point out where I arrogantly stated that I knew better than anyone. That I alone knew better than anyone. Please. I beg you. And "entitled" is a strong word, but I'll roll with it. Because... I am entitled to share my opinion on just about anything. Just as you and others are entitled to feel pissed off about it. (Though you are not entitled to the protection of anonymous responses.)

The vast majority of what I've shared and written has been agreed upon by other Jensen Ackles fans and even non-fans! You think I came to some observations on my own?? Or that I didn't wrestle with it for months?

maybe you should research better your sources, some of the people you've been talking to have said before that they just like to rile people up, they've admited to making up stuff just for fun.

You mean like... oh... AustinAmy? Or Abi? Jensen Ackles fans who lied? Them?

And, um. Who do you think I've been getting information from? @walker-girl? @its-sassyboots? Or @hologramcowboy? Or @neecy83? Or @jarpadswalker? Or @supernaturalconvert? (My sincerest apologies to those I tagged. Ahem.)

In actuality? None of them.

Most of what I've mentioned, brought up, were through my own two eyes and ears. I read articles. I watched con panels. I observed pictures that I found through public media. Some, sure, were screenshots that were preserved, thankfully, when Danneel went on a deletion spree to hide her hideous behavior, but most... public. Social media. I didn't 'talk' to anyone.

I did it myself. Why do you think it takes a while for new posts? Because I vet them as much as possible!

And who is making stuff up? Please. I'd love to know.

you also have a dignosed sociopath among your sources, which means they cannot understand emotions.

Er. Who? Because again... I'm not getting anything from just one person. I vet as much as possible or ask for videos. For proof.

there's also a troll in disguise, who brags about making people like you believe anything, and then laughs their ass of when you people start making theories based on their bs.

Again: You mean like AustinAmy and/or Abi? Or Cynifer? Or Dot? Because those so-called members of the Ackles Army are the ones spreading lies.

No one I've spoken to. Because again--I ask for proof. Why do you think I asked about the videos that were sent to me? So I could see for myself.

And I'm still waiting for anyone to point out whatever I wrote is wrong... and back it up.

(Opinions, however, will always be opinions. I guess I do need to state in plain English that some of what I've stated is speculation and I have every right to write my speculations.)

seriously, is it that crazy to believe that Jensen really loves the woman he married?

Yes.

Because he himself stated that his marriage works better when they're apart. That he himself said that when Danneel was on the set of Supernatural, he couldn't be himself. That he himself said that more than once when he came home, she'd hand him the keys and take off herself.

Because a lot of his stories read very generic. There's nothing specific. Just "Danneel likes French food and French music." Okay? When a con or two ago, it was Italian food. Or he'd go sit outside and watch the kids run around. Where's the heart? Where's the specific thing that would stand out in a memory--like maybe while he was moving furniture upon Danneel's direction, he snagged his pants against something and she had to free him while laughing her ass off?

Not to mention, in a lot of photos, there's no genuine affection. It reads like a business arrangement more than a love story. Their kisses in public? And no, I'm not saying they need to be tongue deep to show a kiss. I'm saying their kisses read like cold fish, with his lips so closed and desperately pulling away all the time.

Even Danneel has more open affection and warmth with a family friend than she does her own husband!

So... yes. It is hard to believe.

I've not seen any genuine love or warmth from Danneel--not in anything she's said to do, or done to him. And Jensen... same for him, from him, about her.

Look, anon, I get it.

As hard as it sounds, I am passionate about Jensen. I've been a big fan since his time on Days of Our Lives. I've seen him grow and then stagnate as an actor. I've seen him go from this open, slightly shy and reserved young man to... to this. I could show you, nearly, a timeline of seeing him being bright and full of energy to someone who looks like he's dying inside. This isn't an attack, I promise you.

It's an observation. No, it's not a projection (as I've been accused). It's someone who grew up in an abusive household (like Jensen with his father; his own words) and learned how to read people in order to survive. As a result, I could tell when someone was devastated even before they were ready to talk about it. I was the person people turned to for a shoulder because they knew I'd listen and actually care.

It's how I made my own family.

It's how I came into having a daughter.

I'm not sharing this to toot my horn, anon.

Because isn't it possible... that maybe I'm the one who is right? And it's shattering a vision of an actor who should be seen as an imperfect human being as opposed to the perfect man with the perfect marriage and the perfect career?

#anti danneel #anti elta #jensen supportive #jensen concern #I wrote an essay

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purpleyellow · 15 days

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house hunting

nct dream 8th member - bee

masterlist

“the dorm days are over”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me💛 Requests are open for Bee and Hayun!

Living in the dorms was such a constant part of Bee’s life. It didn’t matter if they had back-to-back comebacks, solo activities, or even if the unit was on break, they always had a home to return to. Especially as someone who needed her own space, Bee had the room she had turned into her own little safe space over time, and she was not ready to say goodbye.

When the boys suddenly began discussing moving out into their own homes, she wasn’t the most thrilled about it, simply because she couldn’t imagine herself going through the decision-making process of visiting and picking an apartment for herself, and on top of that, having to go through all the moving work and trying to make another place feel like her own.

“I just think we live in a good apartment, and there isn’t much reason to try and change that” She calmly discussed one morning, while Jaemin cooked breakfast for the both of them.

“Well, technically this apartment isn’t ours, and if the owner wants to kick us out anytime, he’s fully capable of doing so. It’s the most reasonable thing to do. Individually, each of us can already afford to buy a condo, which in the future can become an investment, not to say it would be much more comfortable to live in a place you picked yourself. Not everyone who is our age can do that, I think it would be a waste of an opportunity to not go for it”

“I don’t think I would be comfortable living by myself. In fact, I would probably be a hazard to my own life” Holding onto the one thing he said that she disagreed with, Bee tried to make a point, though she knew Jaemin was probably right about the whole thing.

“Well, you don’t have to be by yourself. I don’t think all of us will move out to be alone, Renjun was thinking about sharing a place if anyone was up for it, you could go with him” The boy shrugged, unfazed by her arguing.

“So you’re telling me your plan is to just leave me out here alone and move out without bringing me along. You know I’m going to starve, don’t you?” Crossing her arms, Bee tilted her head as she noticed the small grin on his face.

“Maybe it’s time for you to do an online cooking course or something. The future I imagine only involves me, a bunch of cats, and a big ass couch”

Sighing, Bee rolled her eyes and dropped the subject with him, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it as the day went on. When she dropped by the studio during one of her breaks, the girl couldn’t help but complain to the 127 members around.

“It’s all your fault for dropping the dorm life and going into your own houses, now the boys think we need to do the same just because we have money” Jungwoo and Taeil frowned, turning their attention to her, while Mark only laughed and squeezed her sides.

“Well, I didn’t go to my place just because I could afford it, you know. It was more of an investment rather than just blowing money for the sake of it” Taeil chuckled at her rolling her eyes while he explained himself.

“Even if it’s just to flex, it’s a lot more comfortable living by your rules, it even makes our group moments more enjoyable since we’re not together all the time” Jungwoo shrugged and got up as the producer signalized for him to go into the booth

“And let’s be honest, the company doesn’t spend as much as we can on giving us a nice rental. You should come to check out the gym area in the condo I’m living in. Also, sharing a place with fewer people is a lot nicer than five dudes at once, sorry guys”

“Don’t be, our dorm was a mess, I don’t miss it either” Taeil and Mark laughed reminiscing, while Bee readjusted herself on the couch the three were seated on. Hugging one leg, she groaned and rested her head on top of her knee.

“I don’t want to go out house hunting, having to face all my finances and the options, and deal with all that moving adult stuff”

“Just move in with me then” Mark casually stated, making a chill travel up Bee’s spine as she froze up. Chocking on air, Taeil quickly got up and headed for the door, mumbling “I think someone’s calling me outside”

“What?” The boy giggled, confused at everyone’s sudden change of mood.

“I can’t just move in with you” Bee whispered, and thankfully to her, the producer ignored their conversation and kept going with Jungwoo’s recording.

“Why not? It would be so convenient, you wouldn’t have to choose a place, everything’s pretty much already figured out with electronics and utensils and all that adult crap, plus you’re used to being there already”

Rendered speechless, Bee thought for a minute before gasping “What about the fans?”

“What about them?” Mark smiled affectionately before turning serious and counting on his fingers, “Well, first, they don’t need to know we’ll be living together. Second, what’s so different between you sharing dorms with the boys, to sharing an apartment with me”

“You know very well the difference” The girl spoke the obvious, making him shrug.

“So, if that classified information happened to leak, we can just say we each have our separate rooms” Deciding to let go of his tensed-up girlfriend, Mark gave her a side hug and a kiss on the side of the head “Just think about it, okay? There’s no pressure to say yes, though I think it would be a nice option for you, and I would be happy if you agreed to. But also, I’m the happiest when you are, so take your time deciding”

Despite Mark giving her as much time as she needed, everyone else seemed to be moving at a lot faster pace. In just a few days, Bee was touring apartments with Renjun and Jisung, both of whom were open to being roommates for the time being.

“This one is actually really nice” Renjun commented while going through the kitchen. The real estate agent that came with them was just by the door getting a phone call, or at least pretending to, while letting the three idols talk about their last stop for the day.

“I think so too, the bedrooms and the living room are all pretty large” Jisung nodded, looking into the hallway “The only downside to it, it’s that there are only three rooms, but I’m willing to put that aside for the quality of the apartment”

“We wouldn’t be able to have guests, though. The boys would be fine since we’re used to sharing rooms and stuff. Although I don’t know about Renjun, if my parents came over from overseas I’d like to welcome them into my house”

“That’s what I was thinking too” Renjun sighed, leaning against the kitchen sink, “Having somewhere my family could stay and visit freely would be ideal”

“Still, this place is amazing” Bee looked around again, and the boys agreed with dreamy “Yes” “It really is”

“I think we should reflect, and just consider if we should go for it,” Renjun thought out loud just as the real estate agent stepped back into the conversation.

“About that, if you would like to keep this place, I suggest you decide as soon as possible. I know it’s not ideal, but there are more people interested, and the most I can guarantee you it’s until tomorrow night”

Feeling like their little bubbles had just cracked, the three thanked him and assured him they would keep in touch until the deadline.

Going down the elevator, Bee thought through about how everything could be slowly turning into place without her noticing it, and it seemed to her that there was one way of satisfying everyone’s wishes, which made it look easier to take the next step in her relationship with Mark.

“I kind of wish we hadn’t visited this one because it would make that one with four bedrooms from earlier a lot nicer looking” Jisung sighed as they crowded inside a taxi.

“Well, if we decide to not keep this one, we’ll have more time to look for another apartment that we like better” Renjun looked out of the window contemplating their options.

“Would you guys still go for this last one if I decided to step out?” Bee questioned from the middle, looking from side to side to watch their reactions.

Jisung frowned at her confused, while Renjun scoffed, “Yunhee, weren’t you the one begging us not to be left alone? Don’t panic yet, we can find a place that’ll fit all of us”

“I know we can, I’m just considering my options as you said. So like, if I were to take on another offer, it would solve the missing bedroom problem. Would you guys still want to keep this last apartment?”

“Is this a trick question?” Jisung asked exasperated.

“I’m being serious Jisungie, I was already considering this other thing before today, and know that there’s a place that would be great for you two, I’m almost certain you should take it without me”

“What the hell other offer is that? Can you just be open to us” Renjun groaned annoyed, and the girl shrugged, trying to sound casual to check for their reactions. “Mark asked if I wanted to move in with him”

Gasping, Jisung stared at her with judging eyes, “And you spent an entire day house-hunting with us after your boyfriend invited you to share an apartment with him?”

“He told me I could think about it” Bee mumbled at his outburst, though she was more worried about Renjun’s silence than the youngest’s annoyance. “Oppa, so what are you thinking?”

“That solves everything, doesn’t it?” Renjun smiled optimistically. “I’m kind of not ready to live with one less person, but still, everything would work out”

“It would. When we get home, I’ll confirm with Mark that everything is okay with him, and you guys can call the agent tomorrow morning”

“No need to worry, I’m calling him right now” Jisung beamed from her side just as his phone picked up the call “Mark Hyung, great news for me, not so great for you. Bee agrees to move in with you”

Just as the girl gets ready to punch Jisung’s arm, she listens to Mark’s excited “Really? Holy shit” and that makes her certain she made the right call.

#Bee #nct dream 8th member #nct female member #nct dream female member #nct dream oc #nct dream additional member #nct oc #nct au #nct female addition #nct female oc

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obsolescent · 10 months

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Times Like These

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x GN!Reader

Author’s Note: A short oneshot for today! I got this idea while at the beach the other week. Leon gets to have a peaceful, relaxing time on vacation. Also trying out a new format, took some nice photos there. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: None, fluff, domestic bliss, gender neutral language for reader, Leon is trans but just his chest scars are mentioned.

September, in your opinion, is the best time to visit the beach. Not too hot and not too many visitors either, which is ideal for your boyfriend, Leon. He gets antsy around crowds of people, but due to his line of work, it’s understandable.

You two prepared the car for the trip down to the gulf, bags and suitcases stacked in the back of Leon’s Jeep Wrangler. It takes around five hours to drive to your destination, a relatively comfortable, easy, and short road trip, the silence filled with Leon’s divorced dad rock music.

Arriving at the condo midday, you two settle in for the week-long stay, before making your way down the short boardwalk to the beach. Once you’ve finished setting up your canopy and chairs, you make a beeline for the shore, shell bag in hand.

Leon follows you, sitting further back to avoid the brunt of the waves. You sit on your knees, finding out quickly that it’s the optimum way to remain upright while the waves wash against you while digging for shells.

Securing the net’s string around your wrist, you begin to dig into the sand, searching. Brushing against something, you wrap your hand around it, pulling up a lightning whelk shell, fully intact! “Aha! Look, honey!” You exclaimed, showing off your successful find.

“Oh, wow! Fully intact, too. Good job sweetheart,” Leon says, smiling at you. You grin back, going back to digging. As you move further in, the waves begin their assault against you, periodically a whap against your back while you hunt. Not paying it any mind, you continue, whereas Leon has taken notice.

“Baby, the waves are hitting you pretty hard, do you want to move up some? Get away from them?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. “No, I’m okay! They aren’t bothering me!” You reply back, slightly distracted by your current activity.

“Well, why don’t we swim some? Your bag looks pretty full.” He was right. Glancing down, you hadn’t realized how many you had already found. You nod, cinching your shell bag closed, you bring it back to your spot on the beach. After dropping it off, you head back to the shoreline, Leon having gotten up already and wading into the water.

Following him out, you swim out where the water is up to your chest, beginning to float. You let the waves rock your body, a lulling rhythm as you lean back, closing your eyes and letting yourself float on the surface.

You feel something brush against your back, startling you. Letting out a shout, your body jolting and beginning to move away, before arms encircle your waist. “Jus’ me, baby,” Leon whispers in your ear, having swam up underneath you, now cradling your body against his.

“Almost gave me a heart attack,” You mutter, relaxing against his hold. He chuckles, “Gotta keep you on your feet, don’t I?” He responds. You let out a giggle, squeezing his forearm that keeps you against him. You two float there, staring up at the azure sky. The sounds of seagulls flying overhead and the lapping of the waves creating a peaceful ambiance.

Leon sighs, closing his eyes and letting the burdens and stress float away with the current. “This is so nice,” You whisper, laying your head against his shoulder. “Yeah, it is. Even nicer with you here with me, baby.” He kisses the top of your head, smelling of saltwater and faintly of sunscreen.

You hum, nodding your head. Glad to have this time with him. It’s not often he’s allowed some time away from work, especially not for a week. But he was promised the entirety of his vacation wouldn’t be disturbed, allowing him alone time with you.

You two stay there, treading water, for what seems like hours. You begin to grow tired, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to fall asleep in the water, regardless if Leon is holding you up. You decide to swim back to shore, wanting to also take a closer look at all the shells you found.

“I’m going to head back, okay?” You detach yourself from him, heading for the shore. “Don’t get tide get you!” You call out. “Don’t worry, if the current sweeps me out to sea, just collect the life insurance.” Him and his dry ass humor. “Leon!” You yell, snapping your head back towards him. He just laughs, amused at your reaction.

Reaching land, you sit down on the towel laid out, dumping out the contents of your bag, assorting them from biggest to the smallest. Not long after, Leon joins you, body glistening from the ocean water, his chest scars faint against his skin. He begins toweling off his hair as he sits down on one of the beach chairs. As he works on drying his body, he begins watching you work, a content smile spreading across his features.

Your hands make quick work of organizing the shells, moving fast as concentration furrows your brow. Leon then notices the color washing over your features, turning to look at the sun bathing the beach in a variety of colors that leave him awestruck.

You glance up at Leon, taking notice of him staring off into the eventide, seemingly lost in thoughts. His body relaxed, face serene. You get up and make your way over to him, holding your hand out. “Let’s take a walk along the shore,” You say, catching his attention. He grins up at you, grabbing your hand and pulling himself up.

You walked alongside him, hand in hand. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the sky in hues of gold and orange. Something like this, so domestic, seemed far out of reach for Leon. He allows himself to fantasize, hopeful that one day times like these won’t last just a week at a time, but every day for the rest of his life, with you by his side.

#o fics #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #trans leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon s kennedy x gn!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy blurb #leon kennedy oneshot

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madarasgirl · 1 year

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A Night for Hunting Ch.4- Who Raised You?

Been busy this last week, but here it is! Hope you enjoy our latest adventures with our detested yandere stalker.

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, yandere, touch-starved vampire, awkwardness, I gave up trying to make the conversation better Words: 3072 On AO3

"You are working yourself too hard. I can feel your hunger and exhaustion."

You saw the naughty shadows dance, the reflection barely matching how your body was moving. It was undulating and stretching under the faint light of the streetlamps, which was certainly not what your shadow should have been doing. The vampire emerged from the ground, oozing upwards to recreate his body and walk beside you. The gravel crunched as he matched your stride easily.

"You don’t think it's because I have to entertain the likes of you every few nights? Unlike you, I have stuff to do, a livelihood to look after. A job to work, an apartment to care for, meals to cook —responsibilities, you know." You yawned.

The two of you made for an awkward pair strolling the somber night boulevards, his imposing stature was as flamboyant as your appearance was unassuming —his crimson duster in stark contrast to your quiet black uniform. You walked together in silence, though you kept your distance and attention on him. His hands were at his side, his stance relaxed. Your sideways gaze flickered up briefly to ensure there weren’t extra extremities planning on stealing touches from you.

It was too peaceful. The same upside down patio chairs and industrial-sized garbage bins parked backwards to allow for pickup as on the other side of town. This area was much the same, yet so different, from your old neighbourhood. It was just another quiet suburb, but generally more desolate even during regular hours. There was ample greenery though, which you appreciated.

You glanced around the street to the darkened corners and crevices, carefully inspecting the usual favoured hiding spots for potential unnatural shadows harboring eyes. There weren’t any, although that smirk of his was ever-present. Annoyance flared in the pit of your belly.

It suddenly hit you. ”Is your name ‘Dracula’ spelled backwards? Haha such a funny coincidence, unless it’s not. Who names themselves ‘Alucard’? It's so sad, what a wannabe,” you snickered to yourself.

"Indeed. Isn't it quite amusing?" ‘Alucard’ tilted his head to gaze at the half-moon, his face mostly obscured beneath the sunglasses and hat. The sky was overcast, the modest light of the celestial body unable to penetrate the haze with the city’s light pollution also contributing to the concealment of the stars. This night held its own intrigue, but wasn’t quite as exquisite as the last, Alucard decided.

You arrived at your building and unconsciously held the lobby doors open for him. He didn't say anything to acknowledge your action, lest you become aware and try to ‘rescind the offer.’ You gently shut the door to your condo and toed off your shoes.

After settling your belongings, you ran fresh water in the kettle to boil. You thought the conversation about your overwork was over when he spoke up again. "Come to the Shangri-la at 1900 each night. We will have supper unless I have other…arrangements.”

You scoffed at him. “What are you talking about? You'll do that every single night? That's quite a commitment I'm sure you won't be able to keep."

Piercing golden orange irises locked onto your scowling face, before the slit-like pupils contracted and he sighed, "Go there whenever you do not wish to cook, with or without me."

You gave him the flattest look you could muster. “Do you really think I can afford eating at the Shangri-la everyday?”

The vampire returned your expression before it turned back into a grin. What was he smirking at this time?

Your irritation spiked as realization dawned. “I don't want such an arrangement with you, or a sugar daddy. It’s way too good to be true and I don’t trust you. What makes you assume I even want to be with you? No thanks.”

“No other motives, Sweet. Only ensuring you eat well.”

Once upon a time not long ago, this vampire chased you through abandoned streets like a serial killer of women, but now he was acting the gentleman? You didn’t know what to make of him except for how he made you uncomfortable and you wanted him gone, especially with the recent news about the disappearances of several people in the city. Your heavy mistrust of this freaky creature resurfaced with force. Making sure you ate well? Was he trying to fatten you up before he ate you?

The vampire's deep chortle filled the room, which you hated to find was a pleasant sound. "I don't eat humans, little one, though I'm certain you would be delicious." His eyes wrinkled with mirth and you felt yourself on the defensive again.

“As if you should be treating some woman to the Shangri-la every night. You realize it’s a luxury restaurant in a 5-star hotel? An unemployed thing like you can’t afford it either.” You couldn’t believe you had to explain how preposterous his proposal was to him. After filling the teapot with piping hot water, you turned back to your guest intending to tell him he was being stupid, when you froze.

He cocked a brow at you, an insane expression spreading over his face. Goodness, he looked like a psychopath. You were right to be wary of him. “I am employed, little human,” he cackled.

"Harassing me every few nights isn’t considered employment, vampire. And stop calling me 'little human.' It's demeaning." You could feel the pulsing behind your left eyelid, a headache beginning to emerge within your temples from the endless back and forth.

"My visits to you are a separate matter. I enjoy catching you —it truly gives me great satisfaction.” The beast turned to shadow, into a seeping dark mass that trickled to your feet and clutched your ankles, then began crawling up your body before you could escape. Frightening memories of the last time he held you down as a shadow replayed themselves, but you were unable to budge at all to try kicking him off. Anxiety gripped you by the throat, yet he was weightless this time, and materialized just his head directly in front of you, shiny teeth flashing and towering stature proudly hovering over your head. He had you cornered and you glared back defiantly.

“Are you not little and human?" He purred through a ghastly smirk at your shocked face, then abruptly became solid again, silently phasing through the counter and dining room furniture to sit at the couch.

You gasped for some much-needed air as he left, feeling your heart's rapid gallop in your ribcage.

Jerk. Was he reading your mind right now? You weren't sure. But you repeated yourself to be certain he heard.

"Jerk," you muttered under your breath as you scampered to the bedroom to change. Raspy chuckling sounded from the living room.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you stomped around, feeling only indignance and frustration from the incessant harassment. He was only messing around to make a fool out of you for his own entertainment, you reminded yourself. Ripping the black shirt off your head, you whipped it at the bed. What a twisted monster. Repeating the same manner of motions with your pants and underwear, you found your sour mood unimproved at all from throwing around your belongings. You cursed when you rammed a shin into the corner of the bed frame. That leg was going to bruise.

Hissing in pain, your gaze landed on the framed photos in the corner of the room, immortalized moments of cherished simpler times. You went to the photos sitting on the drawer and leaned over it with your hands braced against the top. There was a layer of dust gathering on the surface of the drawers. Two of your fingers smeared the dust off in a line. It’s been awhile since you had the luxury of time to take care of affairs within your home. You sighed. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you forced yourself to take deep breaths.

You may not be able to escape him, but one day, if the vampire didn’t maim or kill you first, he will get bored of you and eventually leave you alone. It was only a matter of time. Until then, you will have to bear the burden of his presence.

Forcing numb calmness over your mind, you took one final breath and stood with a straight spine, to present yourself with more poise than you felt. You dabbed away the wet residue at your eyes and smacked your cheeks lightly, then eased open the door to reenter the battle. --------------------

“So you can play with the lights, possess telepathy and control minds, have a lot of eyes, and you can turn immaterial and shapeshift. You have all these fancy abilities, perfect for scaring young women. Are you proud of yourself? Any other superpowers I should be aware of?”

Your unwanted guest’s duster was draped over the couch, revealing a dapper suit beneath, all brought together by the pretty red cravat at his neck. His expression was serene, not frightening as it was earlier. The fleeting thought of how easy he was on the eyes crossed the mind yet again, before your eyes narrowed at his comfort level and the way he made himself at home when he was in fact unwelcome.

"My other superpower is that I'm rich."

Wha-? Your exhausted brain faltered. "Y-you didn't. You are not Batman."

He looked at you curiously, then EXPLODED into hundreds of furry bats. The absurdity of your situation didn't escape you, but even you had to laugh as you gawked. He made a movie reference, but you set yourself up for that.

Staring at the horde for several seconds, you felt your scorching anger dampen, then evaporate. It just wasn’t the same when he wasn’t in the shape of a man, directing his mocking eyes and smirks your way.

You held out your hand to offer a landing spot for the bats. Alucard eagerly took up the offer. It was the first time you ever reached out to touch him, even if he was merely a collection of small winged critters at the moment. A larger bat landed on your palm and clung to your fingers. You stared at the colony fluttering around your home, some now docked on various light fixtures, kicking up dust and making the lighting in the room blink erratically from the wings periodically blocking the light. You turned your attention back to the animal in your hand.

It was black and furry, regarding you with translucent scarlet eyes and chirping in greeting. The animal lover in you ignited and your heart melted. You cooed at the bat, almost in disbelief that this was real, and alternated between stroking its back and belly. The animal keened, awkwardly climbing your hand to roll over and present its stomach while fluttering its wings and rubbing its back into your hand. Oversized saucer ears swiveled from side-to-side to catch the sounds of you babbling to him. The collection of his bat eyes around the room were focused on you as they soaked up your affection.

Alucard wanted more. Several more bats flew over to land on your arms and fingers, all vying for your attention. You giggled at the swarm surrounding you, with too many wings, feet and little cheeks and fingers to pet, you didn’t know where to go first. It was a surprise discovery that the wings weren’t leathery, but covered in a thin, silky soft skin. You forgot yourself and ran your fingers through another’s luscious velvet fur and pressed your nose to its face.

Squeaks echoed around the room and the flapping swarm merged to reform into a humanoid figure. The vampire approached with a peculiar expression, his face near yours, forcing you back into reality and to inch away from the proximity. The vampire's eyes were bright vermilion as he took another step forward to maintain the closeness between you.

"Do that again."

"Do what again?" Suddenly, you were jumpy now that it was Alucard again.

"That sound, the laugh."

You gave him an incredulous chuckle, ”You’re kidding, right?”

"Not like that. Like before, just now when you were holding me." It sounded like the chime of bells to him.

Holding him? Who speaks like that to someone they barely know?! "You can't just force someone to give you a heartfelt laugh! Sheesh, have you never been socialized before? You are you right now, not a cute bat!"

The vampire huffed and insisted with a low rumble emanating from his chest, "It was music. Do it again."

"I-I just told you! My goodness, who raised you?"

At that question, he gave you a funny look, almost like he was sad and pained, but it was gone just as quickly and he straightened out and collected himself. "I am far-removed from my days as a human." He observed your arms held out flat to your chest in defence and withdrew.

This thing was human? But of course he was. He must have been a human turned into a vampire, if the legends were true. Thinking back on the timeless beauty you found in his eyes when you first met, combined with the strange mannerisms, you figured this must have been long ago.

You didn’t want to know more about him or his past.

You had leftovers for dinner. Just a simple meal of baked chicken drumsticks and roasted eggplants with buckwheat, all made in bulk several days ago with lots and lots of garlic. Despite the seasoning, you didn't offer him anything, but only because you didn’t want to waste your precious food on him or allow him to feel welcome.

During the entire meal he stared at you eating. It was unnerving. He watched too carefully, his eyes capturing every detail. When your tongue poked out to lick at escaped sauces, you caught his pupils darting over to trace your actions. When you looked at him for a moment too long, his eyes would catch yours and almost drown you with their strange light. He seemed absolutely fascinated by everything you did. You shivered under the intense scrutiny and averted your gaze back down at your food. --------------------

You hoped he would leave after dinner, but the mannerless vampire was still here. You couldn’t sleep with him around. Knowing that requesting for him to leave would be meaningless, you chose to watch a chick-flick in the hopes it would be off-putting. It wasn’t one you enjoyed either.

Seating yourselves with him on the opposite (his favourite) couch, you kept the distance between you. Your lids already felt heavy. 97 minutes wasn’t long for a movie, but in your state, you wondered how you would last the stretch too.

“You are exhausted,” he noted, crossing his legs to examine you properly. The darkness hid nothing from him. He could see you perfectly.

The air conditioner turned back on with a hum as the movie began. Sirens screamed past your building outside, but you didn’t acknowledge any of this. Your head hung low, chin almost touching your chest as the softness of the couch embraced you. You were drooping, nodding off, the darkness of night a welcome reprieve for once. You came back to awareness with a start.

You made a sound and mumbled, “I am watching.”

"You are watching a movie with your eyes closed?" His voice was quiet, not taunting.

"It's a neat ability I have." You shifted your weight to the other side and stared at the screen blankly.

"It's hard to stay awake after all that happened during the day,” you trailed off. So peaceful.

"You do not need to justify your human needs."

At the low melodic timbre, you turned bleary eyes towards the source to make out only two irises, iridescent pools of liquid gold in the poor lighting.

"Time to sleep, little one."

It was such an odd feeling, like you were floating through haze-shrouded skies. You tried to shake off the sensation, but were too weak. Your lids got heavy and you passed out on a full belly, slumped against a large pillow with your head at a funny angle. In your dreamlike state, it seemed there was to be a strange truce with this nightwalker tonight.

Alucard stared at your limp form, at the smooth expanse of throat that was bared to him. His eyes honed in on the tiny flickering pulse on the side. It was in the air. Your monthly was due soon, and you were fertile at this moment. His fangs descended. Your neck will be sore later if you slept like that the entire night. He licked his lips and silently slipped up to you. He faded into the soft fabric of the couch and reappeared seated next to you with his shoulder propping up your unconscious body as he emerged from the couch.

There was almost no external light in the room, only what was granted by the TV screen. The hour was late, or early, depending on what kind of being you were. The blaring of sirens screamed past outside once more before all was silent, save for the occasional noises of nocturnal animals breaking the tranquility.

Alucard allowed the movie to continue playing to completion with you slumped on his shoulder. Two women on screen shrieked at each other for petty perceived offences, but Alucard paid the movie no mind. He watched you sleep, listened to the slow thump of your heartbeat, felt the puffs of your even breaths. He knew you'd be warm, but the prolonged contact with your body heat was more akin to a furnace thawing out his dead body. He caught your scent again, the enticing female pheromones much more preferred now that they were directly on him. For once you weren’t scared or anxious. He was comfortable. Your relaxed expression calmed him and his eyes closed.

Now that you no longer ran from him when he came to you at night, the first vampire honestly missed the thrill of the chase. When the pungent scent of your terror diffused through the air as you realized he was present, it shot straight to his loins. When you screamed and fled, his body was mandated to follow. He missed the exhilaration and adrenaline rush from catching you, addictive drugs which made him almost feel alive again, but this…he shifted to prevent your head from falling off his shoulder…this was good too.

~To be Continued~

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